Chapter 2: Mortal Intrusion

As I approached my apartment complex, I looked up at the sky. Dawn had just arrived, painting the world above me in pinks, purples, and muted blues. This was the time when society began to wake up, cars rushing down the streets on their way to work; mopeds and bicyclists chimed as they sped down the roads. The noises of the suburbs came through loud and clear as I walked up the steps.

Passing by my neighbors’ doors, I put my hand on the cold steel of my front door. Opening it, immediately the comforting smell of home greeted me, though maybe that was just the detergent I bought for cheap.

At first glance, the apartment seemed like it always did. An empty kitchen, due to my not needing to eat mortal fare, as well as near-total silence; although, I could hear the washing machine running, which I found a bit odd. I didn’t remember turning it on.

After kicking off my shoes and locking the door, I marched my way straight to the one room separate from the living space. A neatly made bed greeted me, another slightly odd sight that I dismissed a moment later. I often did strange things when I was hungry.

I flopped into bed, not even bothering to take off my clothes. I didn’t need to rest as much as a mortal might, but after a full night of hunting, even I needed some relaxation.

As I lay there, face down against the pillow and relaxed enough to already be on the edge of sleep, I heard footsteps. Normally such a thing would be one of my neighbors next door or above, so I put it out of my mind soon enough. The edges of sleep again came for me, my consciousness drifting.

Someone knocked on my door, startling me enough to raise my head from the pillow. My first reaction was fight: someone must have invaded my home. But I dismissed it quickly; sinful mortals (all of them) would avoid this place as a matter of course. Other immortals wouldn’t bother to knock, instead just simply attacking or meeting somewhere more neutral to talk, dependent on their nature.

No, this was something else. With a huff, thoroughly annoyed at the interruption to my rest, I forced myself out of bed and walked to the bedroom door. I might attack whoever this was just to dissuade any such future behaviors.

As the door slid open, I didn’t see anyone at first, looking at head height as I was. But I quickly scanned downward, a familiar short young woman with strawberry blonde hair smiling up at me.

“Hi!” she greeted cheerfully, a load of rumpled clothes between her arms. “Welcome home! I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and started the laundry while you were out. Looks like the bed sheets desperately needed to be washed, too, so I took care of that already.” She continued to beam up at me.

“What.”

“Oh, sorry,” she grimaced, truly apologetic, “did I talk too fast again? Sometimes people have trouble understanding me, so I’ve been trying to work on slowing down a bit.”

I closed the door to my bedroom again. This must be a dream. Clearly, after I’d flopped into bed earlier, I’d already managed to drift off.

Immediately, more knocking assaulted my eardrums. “Um, hello?” said the woman on the other side. She was in my house. I didn’t even know her name, and she was in my house.

“Just...” I trailed off, not sure what to do or say. Eventually, I landed on choosing to open the door again. A sigh made its way out of my lungs. “How are you here?” Was she some kind of angel left over after the war? That’d explain her nigh sinless nature. But no, there’d been no survivors. I’d checked. That left one question: how on earth did she remember our encounter yesterday?

“Well, I took the directions you gave me last night. If you’re wondering how I got in without the key, don’t worry! The landlord let me in.”

That wasn’t at all what I wanted to know. “No,” I shook my head. Trying to ask what I really wanted would just confuse the poor mortal. I decided to switch gears. “Do you do every random person’s laundry after just meeting them?”

“Of course not!”

“Then, why are you here specifically? Something interesting catch your attention?”

“I, uh...” she frowned, glancing at the floor. “I thought we’d decided to be friends?” she asked more than said, looking back up at me with hopeful eyes.

With another sigh, I rubbed at my face. I honestly didn’t know how to react. I didn’t care at all if she wanted to do my chores for me. No, the bigger problem was that she was a mortal. My own annoyances aside, staying around me would put her in danger by default.

“Is that a no?” she asked despondently, like a kicked puppy.

“It’s not a yes,” I replied, exasperated.

“But it’s also not a no?” she prodded again.

This silly mortal just wouldn’t take a hint, would she? But I hesitated to straight up kick her out. Based on the memories I’d sifted through of her yesterday, the poor thing had never had a true friend. She’d been taken advantage of all her life; honestly, it was a miracle something tragic hadn’t happened to her with how outlandishly trusting she was. However, I guess her utter lack of monetary funds due to destructive empathy could be considered tragic in its own way. If I didn’t do something to help the woman, she’d end up dead or worse.

Accepting my fate at least for the moment, I decided to introduce myself. “You can call me Asmo. You?”

“Oh! That’s easy, I’m Zophie!”

“Sophie?” I clarified.

“No, Zophie, with a z,” she insisted.

“That’s an odd name.”

Zophie playfully clapped my shoulder and let out a laugh. “Well, not as strange as Asmo!” she declared happily, attempting to banter but coming across as slightly awkward.

I just frowned at her. She... didn’t know how to do this, did she? Of course she didn’t, I already knew that.

“So anyway, I noticed that your fridge is completely empty; I mean, it was even unplugged!”

Yeah, that’d save me on the electrical bill since I wouldn’t use it anyway.

“I went ahead and plugged it back in for you. I thought it was broken at first, but luckily not. Since it’s working well, I thought I’d go to the grocery store next.” She hesitated, an anxious grimace turning her face. “But, I, uh... well I don’t have any money right now.” She kept standing there, just waiting for me to say something.

I let out yet another sigh. “When’s the last time you ate something?” She did look particularly scrawny, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to a lack of calories or a strict workout regimen.

She started innocently counting on her fingers. “Three days I guess?”

By the covenant. This girl was worried about getting me food when she had been starving half to death? “You know what, here’s my wallet.” I reluctantly passed it over. Even I couldn’t overlook this tragedy, for what it was worth. “Go to the grocery store, pick up some food.”

“Great!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “What do you want me to make you for lunch?”

“Whatever’s your favorite will do fine. Go find something you like; knock yourself out.”

“Are you sure? It’s your fridge, you know?”

Worry more about yourself first! “Yeah, it’s fine.” I ushered her out from the bedroom doorway, walking her to the exit. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Okay!” she put her shoes on and walked out the door.

Was letting her go off on her own like that really a good idea? She wouldn’t spend my money donating to some homeless guy, right? I mean, she had to know not to spend other people’s money without their permission at least, right?