Who Can I Be Now?

There was another drone. Stella didn't shoot it—yet.

By the time Shigure emerged from the guest room, Mr. Murasaki and Isla were almost done with their snacks. They, plus Stella, sat on the booths before the divider. They'd moved there after Isla had attempted to spill his beverage on Stella's bed (she had stopped this act of terrorism in time). 

"Good morning!" Isla greeted. "I brought snacks. Stella tried to k-keep your coffee... warm by... wrapping it in fabric, but..." It took a moment for him to compose himself. "I'm not sure if it worked."

Shigure seemed more annoyed than surprised by the company. He must've hard them before. "Good morning. Thank you." He judgmentally stared at the stacked, crunched furniture, then pushed a table to the side with his foot, after which he made his way to the rest of the group.

Should Stella apologize or say hi? That about summed up their interactions. "I lent the piece of fabric used to keep your beverage warm," she said, as a comfortable middle.

For some reason, this seemed to stump him. "Lent? What do you... oh, for fuck's sake." That's what he said when he found his coffee cup, wrapped in Stella's borrowed fabric. Isla, who had been doing breathing exercises, broke into laughter. Mr. Murasaki, too, though he tried to cover it up with a cough.

"A-at least... at least the... bra..." Isla trailed off, wheezing.

Shigure peeled Stella's underwear off his coffee. "Is it still warm?" She asked, as he handed the fabric back to her. Strangely, despite his peers' reactions, he remained serene. Isla had told Stella it was a good idea back when she'd first proposed this, but this clearly had been an act of sabotage. Or had it? "Something wrong?"

"No," Shigure replied. "Absolutely nothing wrong."

"I used the top part."

"Cool."

This caused Isla to lose it again. "H-her first." Mr. Murasaki cleared his throat. "Her first plan involved thermonuclear weaponry." Breathing exercises. He was calm, though. "She really insisted on keeping it warm until you awoke."

"Should I put this back on?" Stella asked.

"Yes." That was Shigure. Still serene—his face. His voice sounded anything but. "Not here."

As Stella headed to her room to put the top half of her underwear back on, she turned off her audio settings. She'd messed up, didn't know why, and to inquire on the subject would lead nowhere. Again: this summed up their interactions. Other pieces of fabric were too big to wrap around the coffee cup. The insta-healercooler at the kitchen hadn't been 'configured' yet, whatever that meant. However, her ex-owner had once mentioned that nothing was more miserable than lukewarm coffee. Had this whole endeavor been doomed from the start?

When Stella walked out, dressed to impress, with her ears turned back on, she saw the drone again, so she vaporized it. It'd been floating outside her house for long enough, and the door had been left open anyway; she wouldn't burn a hole through it.

Mr. Murasaki said, "Oh, my."

"There was a drone," Stella told him.

"Uh, yeah, no." That was Isla. "Don't do that again."

"Understood." She would do it again.

The coffee had been left untouched upon the divider. Shigure didn't sit, didn't drink, didn't laugh, just stood there with his hands in his pockets. "What's the plan?" He asked. "Are you moving to Saturn?"

...of course he'd heard that. Stella would've replied, but her processors stopped responding. The silence stung, then thrashed. After it'd lingered for long enough, Mr. Murasaki took it out of its misery. "She's still undecided."

"Ah." Shigure looked away.

"You gotta help me convince—" Isla stopped then Mr. Murasaki placed a hand on his upper arm. It was gentle, but firm. "—her to... but... oh, come on."

"The decision has to be her own," Mr. Murasaki told him.

"Then give her some time!"

"I am."

He was. Isla took a sip from his coffee. In another world (literally), it'd be a sunny, yellow morning. "Right. Whatever. Stella, what do you want to do while you decide? There's like twenty pounds of pie dough in the fridge. Just saying."

Stella had forgotten to vaporize those. Due to the sheer amount of obstacles, instead of heading to the kitchen the civilized way, she jumped on top of the divider, only to hit Shigure's drink with her tail and spill it on herself. "Yow!" She squeaked, though it was comforting to know that her scheme had worked after all.

Mr. Murasaki and Shigure scrambled to help, while Isla said, "Wow!" and then, "Did you guys see?" and then, "Did you guys see the ARC? It made an arc! Holy shit! It like. SPLATTERED. Oh, sorry, Stella, it's just so cool to see how gravity varies between settlements. I think the Moon has the lowest one out of all of them. That's why they have training and stuff so your body gets used to the change in case you're moving to a different planet. You know, like how spaceships have... whatsthename... Shakespeare... oh, did you guys know Uranus satellites are named after Shakespeare characters?"

Shigure picked her up. He'd taken the conventional route to the kitchen, but even if he hadn't, he had no tail to hit Isla's coffee with. While Mr. Murasaki pushed a night table out of the way, Shigure took Stella to the bathroom.

"I heard that you can name comets after yourself, but if I discovered a comet I'd just call it Sparky, 'cuz of my dog that got struck by lightning. I loved Sparky. He died like thirty years after that happened, but the nickname stuck 'cuz his hair got spiky and people said that when they touched him they got static shocks. So I guess 'Shocky' would've been a better nickname. His original name was Lazarus Four." 

"I'll get you clothes," Shigure told her. "Rinse that off before you... short circuit, I don't know."

Silly. Stella did. Come to think of it, neither she nor Shigure had showered. He'd dozed off with the frivolous suit still on. Perhaps she should've turbo washed it while she slept. Her ex-owner liked movies a lot, and a non-zero amount of them involved someone passing out while the other person nursed them back to health, and usually the person passing out was naked at some point for reasons Stella could never understand. But in this case it'd make sense.

While Stella showered, back at the living room, Shigure asked Isla, "Why are you against her moving to Saturn?"

To which Isla replied, "Why aren't YOU? Also, I'm not against it. I just wanna make sure it's her decision and not democratic pressure."

"Do you perhaps mean bureaucratic?" Asked Mr. Murasaki.

"Same thing. Fuyukawa, why don't you have some snacks? I asked for a traditional Japanese breakfast at Donkey Donuts, but they said they didn't have that."

"Wonder why," Shigure replied.

"No, like—I know it sounds ridiculous, but it shouldn't be? When I've gone to other domes, they usually adapt their menus. By the way, have a donut." Stella would've used her infrared sensor to check if he'd taken one or not, but that could be invasive. Besides, knowing Shigure, he probably wouldn't. "Really? Are you sure?" Quite sure. "All right then. I'll say, at least this case is easier than Lucy's. Remember Lucy?"

"I do," replied Mr. Murasaki.

"Crazy stuff. Oh, yeah, Fuyukawa, Lucy was the last veteran they found. She was convinced we were all enemies and constantly tried to nuke us."

"Sounds fun," said Shigure. "...wait. What. How did you even handle that?"

"Eh, it was tough. There aren't a lot of therapists specialized in pre-war androids, so we had to fly her around a bunch of times. She thought it was all a simulation or something, and the thing is that, like Stella, literally everyone else in her squad died, so there were no familiar faces to help."

"No, I mean..." Shigure trailed off. "Never mind. We don't know if Stella's ex-boss is dead yet."

"Or if he's even real. There was no 'Robert' in her platoon."

"What if it was a codename?"

"Not to interrupt, gentlemen," interrupted Mr. Murasaki, "But Stella is still waiting for her clothes."

It could've been a codename. That made sense, right? For it to be a codename. But then why be so secretive about it? Isla could be wrong. According to Shigure, 'they' were still 'researching'. Research could be wrong sometimes. Had everyone else really died? Well, of course. A lot of time had passed. That's why they had died. Why was she chasing ghosts?

Shigure knocked on the bathroom door. "Got you clothes," he said. "We really need to get you a couple more outfits... though if you're moving, it's probably not worth it. Once you open the door, don't... yes. Exactly."

Stella cracked it open, just enough for her arm to fit through. She got the clothes. "Do you want me to go?" She asked.

"Well, it doesn't... no."

It should've gone this way: him telling her to decide on her own, her asking again, him evading the question multiple times, her giving up after repeated failed attempts at basic communication. "Me neither," Stella replied.

"Then?" Shigure asked. "What do you want to do?"

"Coffee shop."

"You're still planning on opening it, huh."

"You don't sound surprised," she noted.

"I'm not." There was a pause. "You should get dressed."

She did. It was pretty uncomfortable to do so inside such a cramped, damp bathroom. The clothes clung to her as she tried pulling them up, not to mention the bun had fallen apart... "Do you think Mr. Murasaki will agree?"

Shigure was, of course, still by the door. "Quite sure."

He was mimicking her now. How pleasant. (Was she mimicking him too by using s*rcasm?) "Can you h—"

"By the w—oh, sorry."

"My bad. Go on."

"You first," he said.

"No."

"Uh. I'll tell you later."

"Then I'll tell you later, too."

This easy and THIS hard. That was communication in a nutshell. As Stella emerged, Shigure said, "For now, I'd say we should try to..." Then he looked at her. "...get you clothes."