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Night fell over Sayama lake as Shindou closed the door of the temporary residence built on its shore for the anisotropic being to use. It was out of convenience for all of them, although zaShunina understandably still preferred to spend his time inside Kado. And frankly, so did Shindou.
He stood on the pier holding an armful of books, waiting. The titanic cube loomed over him, standing solid and firm, yet constantly giving off the impression of movement. During the day, it cast a tall shadow stretching out far beyond the lake, but at night, its shimmering surface reflected into the water, in a million tiny fractals broken by the waves. Shindou watched as a thin bridge shot out of Kado’s side, stopping at his feet, allowing him to step on. He did not know if it was a sign of Kado recognizing him – the extent of its consciousness was still a mystery. But it was an idea he liked to entertain.
He felt the faint summer breeze on his face as the bridge glided smoothly towards the body of the cube. An opening appeared in the side, swallowing him. As soon as the fractal walls morphed shut behind him and he entered the crisp silence and the strange atmosphere, he felt like himself again. He did not hesitate when a rectangular portal appeared in front of him accompanied by the bizarre sounds of morphing Kado, settled exactly in between organic and metallic. He walked into the glassy surface, letting it engulf him. To Shindou, it didn’t feel any different from stepping into an elevator at this point. Although in truth, it was more like walking through a door.
He found himself at his destination instantly. The cavernous space zaShunina had modified for his convenience seemed to have expanded further since Shindou was last in here. Cubical platforms littered the ‘room’ at various altitudes, winding around, resembling a floating staircase, each of them carrying at least one book. Shindou also noted the seat zaShunina made for himself in the center had been transformed into a sofa-like structure. He figured the space would be dynamic, just like the entirety of Kado, constantly reshaping as zaShunina pleased. He craned his neck to locate the alien among the cuboid clutter of the room.
Then a turtle flew past his face.
Shindou jumped in surprise, sent slightly off balance. Thankfully he quickly realized the turtle was not flying by itself. Its shell was clutched in zaShunina’s detached hands, being transported par avion towards its new owner standing in the middle of the room.
‘Shindou.’ ZaShunina greeted him with a small incline of his head. ‘Welcome.’
‘Giving your turtle a ride?’ Shindou asked with a hint of amusement in his voice, as he walked towards him.
‘I designated a place for it,’ zaShunina informed him, setting the turtle onto one of the cubical platforms. ‘But it seems to prefer locomotion.’
Shindou smiled. That might have been an attempt at a humorous remark.
‘That’s why you added the ramp?’
‘Yes.’ ZaShunina patted the ridged turtle shell with one disembodied hand. Right on cue, the turtle scrambled forward and slid down the little incline attached to the dais. ‘Out of necessity. It kept falling off.’
Pushing aside the mental image of zaShunina, the anisotropic being from beyond the universe chasing a rolling turtle around his space ark, Shindou merely nodded, and set the small stack of books onto the platform serving as their table.
‘I should let it walk freely,’ zaShunina pondered, still preoccupied with his new companion who was now adventurously scuttling around the place. ‘It is in its nature after all.’
He turned his attention towards Shindou, sporting his usual hint of a smile. Shindou enjoyed seeing it every time. ZaShunina’s eagerness to embrace this world and learn about it seemed to slowly humanize him more and more. Just like Shindou felt more at ease within Kado with each passing day. The sense of anisotropic was stronger here, and Shindou quickly got used to the constant feel of it. He subconsciously realized it immediately after his processing, but now he knew for sure. Glimpsing the anisotropic and accepting it made him feel more whole than ever before.
There was a certain degree of guilt in it. Shindou was well aware of the fact that he felt more at home within the strange genius loci of Kado than he did in his own apartment. With his circadian clock completely abolished by zaShunina’s anisotropic device, hours could pass before Shindou realized he had spent them all locked in deep conversation with the alien. ZaShunina could be left to his own devices, reading his books for days, but he seemed to enjoy talking just as much, if not more, letting Shindou explain the more abstract concepts and subtle nuances of human nature he couldn’t find in books. Shindou gladly engaged with him every time, taking the opportunity to scout for more information about the Novo and zaShunina himself. It was never easy. Sometimes his answers were hard to understand, often he deliberately withheld them, reportedly until some further step in his overall human advancement plan would have been fulfilled.
‘Can you teach us how to make food out of nothing so we can end world hunger?’ Hanamori had asked once over their last airplane meal after all the other passengers had been released from Kado.
‘It is not from nothing. I draw from Novo,’ zaShunina had said matter of factly, squishing his share of bread as per usual. Shindou had always found his practice of producing meals for himself as well so they all could ‘dine’ together strangely endearing.
‘Sooo if we have Wams to draw from the anisotropic… can we use them to make food too?’
‘I think Hanamori is trying to ask whether the process of matter creation could be taught to humans,’ Shindou had said, coming to his kouhai’s rescue. Hanamori had not mastered the art of speaking with zaShunina, and probably never would.
‘Not at this point,’ zaShunina had said. ‘The process requires precision which humanity still lacks. More time is needed.’
‘Can a human travel into the anisotropic???’ Shinawa had screamed into his face first thing the two had met again after releasing the secret of the Wam to the public.
‘There is no precedent,’ zaShunina had said after a barely noticeable pause, and had not commented further.
‘Why did you come here!?’ Tsukai had hissed at his fox mask, her yukata in disarray, face twisted in a vain attempt to conceal her emotions like a proper negotiator always should have.
‘Shindou.’
ZaShunina’s gentle voice broke Shindou’s train of thought. He was right in front of him, standing close enough to touch, leaning in, a certain eagerness gracing his features.
‘This is why I chose you,’ he said, his red eyes boring into Shindou’s very soul. ‘The desire for constant movement is inherent to you. Humanity does not stand still, it is propelled forwards by its own curiosity. You are ready for advancement. You can learn, adapt, assimilate. The life here in your world proliferates freely as you fly through the continuum of your space and time, never ceasing to a halt, not for a second. There is beauty in your chaos.’
Shindou’s heart rate quickened, and he caught himself holding his breath. While by no means ‘passionate’, this was the most expressive speech zaShunina had given yet. The fact that he might have just caught a glimpse of something close to the alien’s feelings made Shindou suddenly more aware of his overwhelming presence.
‘The life in Novo is a little more static.’
The spell was suddenly broken, and zaShunina’s expression was back to neutral. But the brief moment had left an impression on Shindou. He suddenly thought of his mother, and her questions about zaShunina’s origin and circumstance. About his family.
‘ZaShunina, do you have parents? Or siblings? Children?’ Shindou asked, despite his rational mind telling him not to. He felt like he was nearing some unidentified boundary between them. But zaShunina said it himself. Curiosity was inherent in human nature, and there was nothing Shindou was more curious about than the being standing in front of him.
ZaShunina did not shy away from a response, keeping his impartial expression.
‘Not in the sense you do. Genetic bond is not a concept in Novo.’
‘Then how do you form bonds in Novo?’
‘There is no word for this concept in any of your languages,’ zaShunina said, turning around to grab the book he had been reading. Shindou noticed the origami bookmark he had given him, safely tucked inside.
‘I figured as much,’ he said conversationally, noting the title of the book. Encyclopedia of Human Behavior. ‘But I’m sure you can try to compare it to a concept known to humans.’
ZaShunina nodded, clutching the book in his disembodied hands.
‘Humans do not have equal relationships with everyone. There is a certain finite number of people a human can have a bond with, therefore they are compelled to choose favorites. Often, these are humans genetically linked to them.’
Shindou unwittingly thought of a school boy earnestly answering an exam question.
‘In Novo, there is no such limitation. The psychological vector akin to a bond is not as clear, specific, or personal as it is in your world. Unocle is a subset of this vector, but only fractionally.’
Shindou had more questions. But he also knew when to admit defeat.
‘You were right. It really is hard to comprehend.’
‘This does not mean I oppose your way, or take it as lesser,’ zaShunina added. ‘I know what it feels like to have a favorite now.’
Shindou was well aware who zaShunina meant. And he couldn’t stop the shameful feeling of self-satisfaction creeping up on him.
‘This signifies we share a bond,’ zaShunina determined.
‘I’m not opposed to that,’ Shindou said with a smile. He couldn’t believe how pleased he felt just hearing that simple sentence.
‘So how do you usually partake in it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What pertains to a bond?’ ZaShunina accompanied his question with a subtle tilt of his head, and again, Shindou delighted in the humanity of that gesture. ‘How does one uphold it?’
Shindou took a few moments to think. He genuinely enjoyed dissecting the most basic and ingrained concepts and explaining them to an alien. If he had to name the feeling, he would label it as fun. Conversations with zaShunina were engaging, thought provoking, and often simply fun. He tried to disassemble the concept of a relationship to the simplest building blocks.
‘By deliberately seeking the other’s company,’ he said. ‘Willingly, and repeatedly engaging with the other, communicating, and deriving mutual satisfaction from it.’
ZaShunina nodded. Shindou was not satisfied with that definition. It felt like there was more. He tried to imagine types of bonds, and find a common denominator. Friends. Lovers. Mother and a child. He thought back to his childhood, his mother again. The way she used to stroke his hair when tucking him in. The safety he found in her embrace. The memory stirred something primordial in him. Something very human. Right now it seemed like the best thing to offer.
‘In the more base sense – by sharing touch.’
‘Touch… for registering tactile stimuli,’ zaShunina said. There was the impression of a straight A student again.
‘The intent is different here.’ Shindou continued. ‘Touch is the simplest of senses, yet also the most personal. It’s the first sense a newborn human uses to find a mother’s breast to feed. A simple touch can make a person feel content and safe. Getting a permission to touch someone and enter their personal space indicates trust. Trust is the basis of a bond.’
‘Trust,’ zaShunina repeated. He looked down. His turtle had finished its lap around the place, and bumped into his sandaled foot. ZaShunina smiled his tiny smile and picked it up, setting it on its designated pedestal. It immediately slid down the ramp and took off again.
‘You shook my hand.’ ZaShunina turned back towards Shindou, still smiling.
‘I did.’ Shindou smiled back.
‘And Shinawa Kanata bit my fingers.’
‘I don’t think that counts.’
There was a moment of silence between them, filled only with the barely there ambient hum resonating within Kado. Shindou always more felt it than heard it, and it calmed him every time. ZaShunina was holding up one of his hands, looking at it intently. Then he spoke again.
‘I want to know what touch feels like.’
‘You don’t know?’ Shindou was taken by surprise. It made sense that an alien wouldn’t have the same set of sensory organs as him, but he always thought zaShunina chose his current form to be as faithful to the template as possible. ‘Isn’t the body you created for yourself human?’
‘Structurally. Not functionally.’ ZaShunina produced another book, and held it out for Shindou to see. Anatomy & Physiology. Shindou noticed he did this often, holding up the book he was citing from. As if he was showing Shindou the source of his knowledge so he wouldn’t think he was lying.
‘It is made of the same material as yours. Carbon. Protein. But my cells are metabolically inactive. I wanted to avoid possible limitations and complications to my current existence by choosing this form,’ he added almost apologetically, as if trying to justify to Shindou why he did not go for the full human experience. But it might have just been Shindou projecting his imagination on him again.
‘I understand,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘We’re certainly limited by some of our basic needs at times. But I suppose at least the need to sleep is dealt with so far.’
Shindou half expected zaShunina to pull out another gift from the anisotropic on that cue. A device that would allow humans to gain energy from something other than food might have potentially been less controversial than the Wam. But zaShunina just gave Shindou another one of his cryptic smiles, and took a few steps back.
‘Kado,’ he called out in a clam voice, holding out his hand. The small glowing cube appeared above his palm, spinning around dizzyingly.
Shindou had to shield his eyes when a sudden bright light flooded the space, engulfing zaShunina at its center. He squinted through it, and saw ribbons of something materialize seemingly from the ether, streaming into the sphere of light surrounding the alien, who stood there calm and unmoving, letting the whirlwind of particles envelop him. The sight made Shindou recall their first meeting, when he had witnessed the birth of zaShunina’s form.
The light dimmed just as suddenly as it had appeared. Shindou was left surrounded only by the golden glow of Kado’s interior, starting intently at zaShunina, trying to find a difference. But he looked exactly the same. The slender body, the hair devoid of pigment, gentle features, all was as usual. ZaShunina’s face held a serene expression, as the strands of his hair gently fell back into place. All of sudden his red eyes shot open, as if in shock, startling Shindou as well.
Then he took a deep breath.
Shindou was standing inside a multidimensional living cube, facing a being from beyond the boundary of his reality, yet to him, the strangest sight of all was zaShunina take gasping breaths like an ordinary person. He was used to the subtle hints of humanlike gestures the alien had adopted, but a sudden jump like this felt downright jarring. ZaShunina seemed to be at least perplexed as well. He took another deep breath, then coughed. He put his hand on his mouth, then chest, then he brought it in front of his face, staring at it with wide eyes. Shindou felt a sudden urge to run up to him and console him for some reason.
‘Are you alright?’ He asked instead, approaching carefully.
ZaShunina took a few more deep breaths before looking up at him, fascination written all over his face. Even his expressions seemed to suddenly take on a greater deal of human quality. Shindou suspected zaShunina had just given himself all the biological functionality of the human body. If that was the case, at that very moment, he was likely being flooded with sensory input from inside and outside of his upgraded form, having to deal with processing it all at once. Shindou couldn’t even begin to imagine how intense and confusing it must have felt. All the more when it was coupled with feeling the need to breathe and his own heartbeat for the first time.
ZaShunina walked a few steps towards his sofa-like seat and sat down. Shindou followed him, feeling genuinely concerned when he noted the slight unsteadiness to his stride. For some reason, seeing zaShunina like that felt too intimate, like he was intruding on something. He could not explain it to himself, but the sentiment was there. They sat together for several moments, until zaShunina’s posture straightened back up, and he turned his attention to Shindou again.
‘I suppose I should have done this earlier,’ he said.
‘How does it feel?’ Shindou inquired.
‘Alien.’
Shindou watched the now steady rise of zaShunina’s chest. It still did not feel appropriate.
‘I am not used to perception on the physical level,’ ZaShunina ran his fingers along the smooth fabric of his cloak. ‘I feel the clothing touching me.’
He continued to trace the ridges and creases of his undersuit, fiddling with the strings and tassles on his cloak. Then he put his palm onto the surface of one of Kado’s cubes. It pulsed with a gentle glow beneath his touch, as if in encouragement. He lingered there for a moment, then finally, he reached his hand out towards Shindou.
At any other time, Shindou would say something, preferably a witty remark. But at that moment, he knew saying nothing was the right answer. He reached out his own hand, meeting zaShunina’s in the middle. Their palms pressed together, and their eyes met.
It took Shindou’s breath away for a second. There was something sacred in the single moment it happened. He felt like this was the genuine first contact between a human and an alien being. He had no idea whether zaShunina felt the same connection, but there was a hint of awe in his eyes. His fingers slipped away from Shindou’s, circling his outstretched palm instead. He traced the veins and sinews on the back of his hand, before gently squeezing.
‘I feel pressure,’ he said quietly, the surprise still gracing his voice. ‘And your body temperature.’
Shindou also felt his own body temperature, suddenly rising quite uncomfortably. Taking advantage of zaShunina pulling his hand back to inspect it again, he quickly slipped his suit jacket off, and loosened his tie. The gesture must have caught zaShunina’s interest, possibly taking it as an invitation, because suddenly, there was a hand pressing into Shindou’s chest, right over his heart.
ZaShunina’s touch was cold. It made sense, his newly activated metabolism likely didn’t have the time to warm him up yet. But the more his palm lingered on Shindou’s body, the warmer it became. Shindou sat still, letting zaShunina’s curious hand go wherever it decided to. The slender fingers moved upwards, pressing every button of Shindou’s shirt along the way, until they came to a rest at Shindou’s neck. That made him freeze up. It wasn’t like he expected zaShunina to plunge his nails into his carotids, he had just always disliked people touching his throat. But this time, he allowed it. He realized zaShunina was feeling for his pulse.
Neither of them said anything. ZaShunina finally moved his hand from Shindou’s neck, upwards alongside his jaw. The coldness of his fingers coupled with the tickling sensation of his uncertain gingerly touches made Shindou shiver all over his body, and again, when the exploring hand slipped into his hair. ZaShunina seemed to like the new texture. He ran his hand through Shindou’s hair, messing it up, before smoothing it down again, pinching individual strands between his fingers, even grabbing an entire handful of it. The tingling Shindou felt on his scalp almost made him sigh contently, but he held out.
‘You are smiling.’ Apparently he did not hold out on everything.
‘I can’t help it,’ he said. ‘Being touched is a simple pleasure. It’s enjoyable to humans.’
‘I wish to experience it. Touch me too, Shindou. Please,’ zaShunina requested politely.
Mimicking Shindou’s prior action, he slipped his white cloak off his shoulders. Perhaps he took it as customary in such a situation. He looked up at Shindou expectantly, waiting. Shindou hesitated for a second. The underlying sexual connotation of their interaction suddenly became much clearer to him, and his eyes automatically flicked down the skintight suit-clad body in front of him. He forced the intrusive thought away, but he did feel the crack in his composure.
‘You can touch me, Shindou,’ zaShunina repeated. ‘But please, do not bite my fingers.’
‘Don’t worry, I don’t do that on the first date.’
What on earth did he just say?
‘Does that mean you will not?’ ZaShunina asked, tilting his head.
‘I will not,’ Shindou said, feeling only slightly embarrassed.
Without much further thinking, he reached out and put his hand on zaShunina’s cheek. There surely were other more appropriate places he could have picked for the first touch. But he decided to abandon reason, and embrace feeling.
ZaShunina stared into his eyes, while letting Shindou caress his face. It was perfectly smooth, not a single blemish on his pale white skin. Shindou’s thumb somehow naturally veered towards his lips and brushed against them. ZaShunina’s blinked in surprise, looking startled. Shindou realized the sudden flurry of stimuli from such a richly innervated area probably must have felt quite intense to him. He did not want this to be an unpleasant experience for him. His hand left zaShunina’s face, and he buried his fingers in his hair instead. It was fine and just as soft as it looked, slipping through his fingers smoothly. Shindou combed through it with his fingertips, gently massaging his scalp along the way. ZaShunina’s reaction was instantaneous. His eyes fluttered shut, and he instinctively leaned into the touch with a sigh. Shindou felt strangely charmed by the sight of that. There was something bizarrely adorable about the untouchable godlike Yaha Kui zaShunina relishing in being pet like a kitten.
Shindou was now fully engrossed in their act. He stroked zaShunina’s feathery hair with great enthusiasm, amused by the way the alien gradually leaned closer and closer towards him until they were mere centimeters apart. When Shindou’s hand slid down towards the nape of zaShunina’s neck, he noticed goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, and felt him shiver on reflex. The thin fabric of his undersuit apparently did very little to dull the sensation. Shindou continued caressing zaShunina’s back, the same way his mother had done to him when he was a child. He used to love that delightful soothing tickle of her hand. It has been a long time since anyone had touched him like that. He missed it. After years of hard work which made him the professional he was, sharing any kind of intimacy with anyone now felt so distant to him he could barely remember how it felt. It seemed zaShunina was not the only one getting benefit out of their strange little session of ‘simple pleasure’.
Lost in thought, Shindou didn’t even register when he put his other hand on zaShunina’s body. But somehow, he was now caressing the curve of zaShunina’s waist with the thumb of his right hand, while still stroking up and down his back with his left. The more surprising thing was – zaShunina was touching him as well. One of his hands was on Shindou’s bicep, and he was earnestly petting his arm, trying to reciprocate the best he could. He was watching Shindou with a serene smile and half lidded eyes, completely relaxed. It was incredible how different he looked from his usual self, while changing so little about himself. For a second Shindou wondered if he wasn’t way out of line doing this with him. If someone, anyone, walked in right now, there would definitely be some questions, maybe even accusations. If he crossed a line here, which he probably did, it was too late to step back. And he did not dislike it. He enjoyed seeing zaShunina like this. Tranquil, smiling, humanlike. He liked the way their arms were circled around each other, almost like a hug.
‘There is another form of greeting,’ he said, keeping his voice low, not wanting to disturb the peaceful mood between them. ‘A sign of greater trust than a simple handshake. I think it might be appropriate right now.’
‘Show me,’ zaShunina said in an equally soft tone.
Shindou was only human. And humans were selfish. When he pulled zaShunina into an embrace, he knew it was solely for his own sake. Feeling the press of his body against his felt like coming home again. He exhaled deeply, and felt zaShunina do the same. He put one hand on the back of his head, and squeezed him against his chest. ZaShunina mimicked all that perfectly, and hugged back. He was a fast learner. Shindou shut his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to feel too much, didn’t want to admit to himself how much he craved someone’s touch. Their experiment made him realize that, and he was surprised how very lonely it felt to let go. ZaShunina sat back again, eyes alight with something beautiful as his smile reached them.
‘I enjoy the way humans bond,’ he said appreciatively. ‘You were right. Being tactile with another is pleasant.’
Shindou quickly gained his composure back. It was a talent of his. ‘So will you keep your new sensory functions?’
‘For the time being, yes.’ ZaShunina said. ‘Will we do this again?’
‘We can if you wish,’ Shindou said carefully, and felt a dangerous kind of joy when zaShunina nodded again, giving him another one of his smiles. He was already looking forward to it.
‘Shindou…’
‘Yes?’
‘I want to touch the turtle now.’