Shadow Man

Rebecca showed up to Stella's house somewhere during candlelight hours, wearing not pastel, not frilly, not ribbony, but mostly black and leathery: skirt, boots, jacket, with a red bralette matching her lipstick as the only sources of color outside of her olive skin. Even her hair was jet black. Stella had been studying quite a lot about fashion these past few days. "Sorry to intrude," Rebecca said, "but Kou locked me out of the house. Again."

Abnormal, yet expected behavior. "I understand."

With that said, she let Rebecca in. Stella would've helped with the luggage, but Rebecca just kind of dragged it inside, and besides, she wasn't done redecorating yet. "I know... this is... sudden, but... yeah." Rebecca ended up kicking it to the side. She tossed herself (no other wording was as appropriate) upon the nearest couch, then stretched. "It's 'cuz I didn't tell him I was leaving. It was an emergency, he wouldn't wake up, and he blocked me everywhere after I left. You know, like husbands do."

Stella sat on the couch opposite to hers, which was now adorned with ribbons. "That sounds unfortunate, but least you're back. I was beginning to think the mushroom mafia abducted you."

"I'd hope not. Anyway, how's it been for you? Did you have the welcome party?"

"To some degree."

Rebecca took off her boots, then her jacket. She lay there, like a doll. "Let me guess... no one organized anything and then it went to waste. Ugh. Knew it. Classic. Can't exactly say no to a business trip, though."

"Business trip? Yours? Do you work with mushrooms?"

"No?"

"Just making sure." Why did Rebecca get to undress like this but not Stella? Could she do that, too, just to try? Isla was still around, so maybe not. "Make yourself at home. Isla purchased... ta... ta... Mexican food consisting of tortillas wrapping meat and vegetables."

Suddenly, Rebecca sprang up. "Tacos? Yum!"

"They're on the counter." Isla was at the guest room. He'd asked Stella if he could stay for three nights in a row now. He'd also told her not to tell Mr. Murasaki, who'd showed up every morning to check up on her, or Shigure, who'd been showing up almost an hour late to work.

Speaking of which—Isla walked out of the room in pajama pants with heart prints and no shirt. "Who's at the counter? What's—oh, my."

Rebecca froze mid-bite, ears perked. After a strange, long pause, she swallowed. "...hello... uhh... who...?"

"Isla Gray," Stella said. "That's Rebecca Fern. Rebecca Fern, this is Isla Gray. I told her she could eat those abominations. My house, my rules."

Isla fled back to his room.

"Girl, who's that? Where's your husband?"

Isla re-emerged, wearing a T-shirt (with heart prints), hair slicked back again. "Good evening, Rebecca Fern. Nice to meet you. Eat as much as you like."

Rebecca stared at him, then at Stella.

This time, Isla came armed with his holo-screen, so he went to lollygag at the living room. Stella hadn't finished redecorating yet, but it'd do. Most of the cushions had been ribbonized. She'd put back the bedroom furniture inside the bedroom. Her closet had her clothes now. She'd even bought matching pajamas with Isla, which she wore now.

"On second thought," said Rebecca, "I just remembered I have some last-minute errands to run."

To which Isla replied, "If you can do it today, you can do it tomorrow. That's my motto."

She laughed, but it came out airy. "Right. Um. I, uh. Don't want to intrude."

"You're not."

"You're not," Stella echoed, but Rebecca was already putting her boots back on. "I don't understand. You seemed quite eager to stay until five minutes ago or so. Was it something I did?"

"No, no. It's not... I mean... It's pretty common these days. Right? I'm just old-fashioned. Right? Please tell me he knows."

"Who?"

"Your husband?"

Isla raised his eyebrows. "Wait, does she know?"

"About what?" Stella held her head. "I don't understand. Please be more concise."

"About you and Fuyukawa not being a real thing."

If Stella had pie dough to hurl at Isla, she would've done so. "We are a real thing. Understand? We are husbands. He is my wife. The other way around." Now she had a headache. Leave it to Isla to say the truth when nobody asked for it. And what's more—now Rebecca looked even worse. Her eyes were so wide, her ears so flat to her head, that one would've thought she'd just been threatened. "We are husbands," Stella told her, "Shigure and I. Don't listen to him. He's just mean by accident sometimes."

Rebecca opened her mouth, then closed it, then slid on her jacket. "See you," she said, picking up her luggage. "Tomorrow, I hope."

"Stay," Stella pleaded.

It worked; Rebecca paused right before reaching for the door. Without looking at Stella, she asked, "Does he know?"

Stella and Isla exchanged glances. He shrugged, helpful as a taco. "I'm not sure," Stella replied.

Rebecca shook her head. "Then you really should tell him."

She left after that. It was late. Not that it mattered with how low crime rate was inside the snow globe. Isla asked, "What was she talking about?"

"I don't know."

"I thought she was talking about the newlywed roleplay? That I knew it's not real?"

"Perhaps," Stella said. "She didn't seem to take it well."

"No shit. She took it terribly. I wonder why?"

"Me too."

And they'd continue to wonder all night, until Isla fell asleep and Stella dreamed about dreaming.

***

Shigure showed an hour early and without knocking on the door. He used his wristband thing to open the door. Just like that. An hour early. As though it were his own house. Why today of all days?

Isla had fallen asleep on the couch after talking nonsense for hours, mostly about his two thousand exes (and counting) and Lazarus 1-3.

After Shigure saw and heard Isla snoring on the couch, he paused. If he'd had cat ears, they'd be pinned to his head.

"Good morning," Stella said. 

"...good... uh." Shigure kept staring at Isla.

Stella backflipped towards him. It didn't help. "There's breakfast for breakfast. I bought a machine. Would you like some breakfast for breakfast?"

But Shigure stayed glued in place.

"Shigure?"

"Y-yeah. Sure." He attempted to sit on one of the booths. Shigure was pale, but Stella detected no pathogen infection. "Or, I could just... leave? Until you both are... done?"

"That's fine. He's a very heavy sleeper."

"Is he..."

"He told me not to tell you," Stella said, "But he was the one who refused to move. When I tried carrying him to bed, he kicked my face. You reap what you sow. That's an idiom. Are you unwell, Shigure?"

Shigure shook his head. "I'm glad you both are. I didn't. Um."

"Please be more concise."

"I, uh. I hope you're... happy together."

Stella glanced at Isla. "I wouldn't say we're unhappy."

"Then... do we stop with the newlywed thing? Just tell your neighbors I cheated on you or something. Not like I'll ever see them again after this."

What Shigure didn't know was that Stella intended to hire him. Isla had agreed to it being a good idea, though, which was a red flag. "There's still hope," Stella told him and herself as she prepared breakfast. "Some of them are taking my offerings."

"Really? That's good..."

"The most recent survey said nine people are supporting us now. With Rebecca, it'd be ten. I'm leaving pies in front of their house every day."

"I heard the Kondas came to apologize," Shigure said. "As well as some girl with horns instead of cat ears, so that's... you, her, Rebecca, whatshisname, girl with the prosthetic arm, bodybuilder girl, the short guy with heterochromia, Mrs. Aoyama, the Kondas..." He lifted fingers as he counted, then showed Stella his open palms. He had a scar on his right hand, too, starting from the index finger and vanishing into the sleeve of his shirt. "Ten people. We only need to convince one more person."

Stella resisted the urge to poke at the scar. "Indeed." She really tried. Truly. "Can I touch your hand?"

Shigure immediately lowered them. "Why?"

"Curiosity. I will let you touch my hand in return."

He nudged his head at Isla, who was still snoring. Then Shigure shook his head.

"I don't understand."

She hated that smile. Not only did it fail to reach Shigure's eyes; it clashed with them. "So, today's schedule... I think we're set, right? The 'expert' advice I got was to sign you up to some kind of class or program, but I'm assuming you'll be busy all these days, with all those... pies. Why not look around for some other place to rent for the coffee shop? Just in case?"

"I want it to be here."

"That's nice and all, but there's still a chance it might not happen."

Shigure helped Stella prepare the breakfast breakfast. He set some aside for Isla, too. Rice. Soup. Fish. Bananas. Isla and Stella had researched about traditional Japanese food for hours before purchasing these. Shigure gave Isla all the bananas, though. Picky. 

"It'll happen," she said. "I really think so."

To which he replied, "Me too."

"Sarcasm?"

"Nope."

Later, once they'd wrapped Isla's meal so it would remain warm (with biodegradable plastic this time), as Shigure did the dishes, Stella asked, "Was it good?"

"Yeah. It was."

"I'm glad."

She also helped with the dishes. She had those now! And food! It almost looked like a real house.

Stella's tail swished so much it hit Shigure's leg by accident. "Ow," he said. Stella did it again. "Very nice."

"You seem unwell."

"Well, I'm getting whipped with metal covered in fur, or whatever the fuck that thing is."

"Rude."

"...ah." Shigure covered his face. "Right. I'm stupid. I'll give you two space."

"For?"

But he just patted her head on the way out. He'd never done that before.

People must've really hated Isla if they kept fleeing at the sight of him. Stella understood. As the deadline loomed nearer, there was only one task left to do: to convince one final neighbor to join her cause. Alternatively, she could stock up on sleeping gas, ambush the mushroom mafia, and hand them over to Hana and Takashi (who were apparently the only two cops in town), but that'd be a worst case scenario. 

After all, wasn't that what everyone expected her to do? Make war, not pie? Mess up? Kill? Be shipped off to Saturn's containment zone?

Later, when Isla woke up, ate the bananas, and tapped tapped tapped, Stella recited her progress report. "Dope," he said. "If you convince Tsukiko, then that would be it, right?"

...Tsukikobob the elevent and final candidate... and... the owner of books...

...but she had to remain strong. "Understood," Stella said. "I will proceed to persuade her."