Chapter Text
The alien did not expect Earth to smell like sunscreen and burnt sugar. It was the first thing he recorded.
The wind came in slow, salted breaths. It carried laughter from the beach, high, uncontained, and overlapping the noise of the sloshing waves. Soul stood at the edge of the shoreline where land loosened into sea, watching humans occupy the heat without complaint. Different shades of skin glistened in the heat, water droplets clinging to their bodies. He watched as humans let the sun burn their shoulders pink, that always got a giggle out of Soul, humans were cute sometimes.
His suit had sealed itself into a more civilian mimicry the moment his vessel submerged beneath the horizon a few days before. A cotton tank top and light-washed denim jorts with pins of different anime on them — on his visits to earth, he'd discovered many different types of media which brought him much joy to decorate with. He'd even introduced a few of his best friends from Planet Nose Hair to his favourite Earth shows. But as his shoes filled with sand again, he still did not understand why anyone would choose to be here.
“Are you going to just stand there?” a voice called out.
Soul turned quickly. The human approaching him had honey skin and an expression halfway between suspicion and amusement. His brunette hair stuck slightly to his forehead from sweat. He carried two melting ice creams, both already losing structural integrity.
“You look like you’re attending a funeral,” the human added. “It’s thirty five degrees out here, aren't you gonna enjoy the heat?”
Soul processed the statement. The temperature he gave was accurate, although half a degree off, but the social cue was unclear. Was the human trying to be funny? Or maybe it was…he thought back to his textbooks from Human Socialisation 101. Ah, “small talk”.
“I am observing,” Soul replied blankly, kicking at the sand.
The human blinked once. “Right.”
A pause stretched between them as the ice cream tilted dangerously. “Take this,” the human said abruptly, pressing one into Soul’s hand. “Before it falls.”
The cold startled him. It seeped through his borrowed skin simulation faster than anticipated.
“I did not request—”
“It’s summer,” the human said, as if that answered anything. “You look like you're suffering out here. Plus, I'm a lifeguard so it's practically my job to help people enjoy the sun.”
The word triggered an immediate internal response. Beneath Soul’s collarbone, a thin seam of light flickered to life, only visible if you were searching for it. It was the edge of the Harmoniser Version P1.0, though Soul was lazy and usually just called it “The device”. The device had been implanted prior to his first descent to earth, woven into his nervous system like an organ. It translated, advised, monitored, and corrected his interactions on Earth to allow him to function better.
NEW WORD: “lifeguard”
Root components: life (biological continuity) + guard (defensive action).
Preliminary definition: designated protector of organic units within aqueous recreational zones.
Threat probability: Low. Uniform typically red. Elevated whistle usage.
The device’s tone was clinical, flattened into compressed pulses of translated alien syntax:
Advisory: Cooperation recommended. Subject displays territorial-authority markers. Resistance may initiate social friction.
Soul assessed the human again. Red shorts. A whistle resting against his chest. Skin sun-warmed to near overexposure. No visible weapons. It seemed to align with everything he'd learnt, so he decided to show off his knowledge.
“Your occupation is aquatic preservation,” Soul concluded aloud.
The human blinked. “My— what?”
“You guard life within this saltwater basin.”
A pause. Then a slow grin, the human was immediately intrigued. “That’s the most dramatic way anyone’s ever described it, but yeah. Sure.”
The device recalibrated.
Correction: Tone mismatch detected.
Human response indicates amusement, not affirmation of grandeur. Recommendation: reduce formality by 34%.
Soul inclined his head slightly. “You stop drowning.”
“Exactly,” the lifeguard said, satisfied that he finally understood Soul. “Now you're speaking my language.”
Soul was confused, he was speaking the standard language of the region, and he'd gotten around fine with this same dialect too. Strange, he'd have to double check later.
The device dimmed but did not disengage.
Observation: Subject heart rate elevated above resting baseline when maintaining eye contact. Environmental cause unlikely. Further data required.
The ice cream dripped down Soul’s fingers. He watched it with a mild alarm. The human laughed, soft, and reached forward to tilt Soul’s wrist. “You’re supposed to lick it. You’re kind of acting like it's your first day on earth, are you alright?”
Well, it was actually Soul’s 10th time he'd been to earth, but this was only the second time he decided to interact with humans, so he felt a slight offense at the boy's words. Soul hesitated only a fraction before complying. The sweetness was aggressive and artificial, his internal sensors flagging the spike in neural activity.
The human studied him openly. “You’re not from around here, are you?” That question required precision, and Soul focused to form a response which did not arouse suspicion.
“No, it is my first time here for my…research in the area!” Soul answered truthfully, he hated lying.
“Thought so. The human extended his free hand. “Kim Jongseob.”
The name settled into Soul’s auditory memory with unusual clarity. “I am from very far away. But that isn't of much importance. Oh, and my name is Soul!” he replied.
Jongseob grinned faintly. “That’s really cute. Well my shift ended around 5 minutes ago, maybe I could help you with your, what was it, a project? I have nothing better to do.”
Soul nodded, “That would be very useful! Thank you.”
They stood side by side after that. Not speaking much. The sea folded into itself again and again, tireless. Children shrieking when waves caught them by surprise, as if they couldn't see them from 10 metres away.
Jongseob jerked his chin down the shoreline. “C’mon. If you’re researching this place you can’t just stare at it like a lost puppy.”
Soul followed him, not thinking too much about the risks of following a stranger. As they walked, sand shifted unpredictably underfoot. It forced micro-adjustments in balance every few steps, causing discomfort in Soul as he stepped. Jongseob walked easily, accustomed to the sand, hands hooked into the waistband of his red shorts, scanning the beach out of habit even though his shift had technically ended.
“You’re really doing research?” Jongseob asked. “Like, school stuff?”
“Yes.”
“On what?”
“Seasonal human behavioural variance.”
Jongseob snorted. “You mean how people over here act differently when it’s hot?”
“That is an oversimplification of my study, but correct!” beamed Soul, glad he'd found someone to talk about his research with.
The device beneath his skin pulsed.
ALERT: “snorted”
Not respiratory distress.
Indicates brief amusement.
No medical intervention required.
Soul tapped his collarbone once, as if telling the Harmoniser to stop giving him unnecessary alerts in case someone noticed. It was a little patronizing to have a device in your body which constantly assumed you knew nothing about the world around you.
They passed clusters of towels and coolers. A radio somewhere played crappy pop music in the background Slowly, the sky had begun its slow descent toward gold.
“So,” Jongseob said, nudging Soul lightly with his elbow, “what have you figured out so far?”
“That humans willingly expose themselves to ultraviolet radiation for aesthetic alteration.”
Jongseob laughed again. “You mean tanning? It makes us look hotter, but yeah it's a bit stupid.”
“Yes.” Soul said dryly. He was in complete disagreement. How could increasing the chances of cancer make anybody more alluring? If Soul ever had a human partner, they would have to at least be intelligent enough to not do such foolish activities.
“Anything else?” Jongseob motioned for him to keep going, he enjoyed hearing him talk.
“You consume high concentrations of sugar and sodium in elevated temperatures.” Continued Soul, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“That’s just beach food.”
Soul tilted his head. “It appears inefficient.”
“It’s fun,” Jongseob corrected.
“Fun,” he repeated carefully.
“Yeah.” Jongseob looked at him sideways. “You don’t do fun where you’re from?”
The device stalled half a second before supplying:
CAUTION: High-risk inquiry. Recommend vague response to maintain cover integrity.
“We prioritise efficiency,” Soul said instead.
The boy groaned, “That sounds miserable. Remind me to never visit your country.”
Jongseob slowed near a stretch of emptier sand where the tide hadn’t yet reclaimed the ground. He dropped down without ceremony, cross-legged, patting the space beside him.
“Okay Soul, I’m going to teach you something important.”
Soul lowered himself with more precision, making sure none of his pins fell off as he leaned in, ready to receive his lesson.
Jongseob pulled a worn deck of cards from the pocket of his bag. The corners were bent, edges soft from use. He began shuffling. The motion was fluid, unconscious. Cards snapped together in a sound that made Soul’s sensors spike briefly at the sharpness.
OBJECT IDENTIFIED: Standard 52-card deck.
Probability of gambling context: 41%.
Monitor for financial loss.
“We’re not gambling,” Jongseob said absently, as if he’d heard it.
Soul stiffened slightly. “I did not vocalise that.”
“You don’t have to. You had a look of dread, and don't worry, I'm too broke to gamble anything these days.”
Jongseob dealt the cards between them.
“It’s called Speed, I actually made the game myself,” he said. “Essentially all you do is match numbers in order. Fastest wins. It's more complex than that but it's fine, you pick it up as you go!”
“Winning is the objective?” inquired Soul, calculating in his mind.
“Obviously…” sighed Jongseob. He wondered how clueless someone could truly be. Soul examined his hand. Symbols. Numbers. Two colours. Limited variables. This was manageable, quite easy compared to the complex data crunching Soul did on the daily back home.
“Three, two, one… go!” Within seconds, his cards were nearly gone. Jongseob stared, halfway between impressed and offended. “Are you serious?”
Soul placed his last card down with quiet finality. “Yes.”
Jongseob narrowed his eyes. “You’ve definitely played before.”
Soul waved his hands in defence, “I have not!”
“Then how the fuck did you do that?”
“Statistical sequencing,” Soul said kindly.
Jongseob fell back onto his hands, groaning up at the sky. “You’re impossible.”
ALERT: “impossible”
Literal: incapable of occurring.
Contextual probability (88%): teasing exaggeration.
Emotional tone: affectionate frustration.
Soul smiled. “Affectionate.” He felt the earlier spike in heart rate return, but he wasn’t participating in physical exertion. Confusing.
“I can perform worse,” Soul offered.
Jongseob lifted his head. “You’d lose on purpose?”
“If that would increase your enjoyment.”
Jongseob studied him for a long moment. “You don’t have to fake it,” he said quietly. “Just… don’t treat everything like, so seriously.”
Soul decided to adjust his approach. Jongseob reshuffled the deck and leaned closer this time, their knees almost touching.
“Okay,” he said. “Again. But try to feel it, not solve it. It will make it 10 times more fun.”
“Define feel it.” Soul wondered out loud. He knew what feeling was, that was one of the basics of Human Socialisation 101, but it didn't make much sense in this context.
Jongseob reached over, tapping two fingers lightly against Soul’s forehead. “Not up here,” he said. Then softer, “Here.” as he tapped his chest. He'd most likely meant to touch Soul’s heart, but his people did not have hearts, it was more like a blob of slime which stretched every so often to keep them functioning, which confused Soul even more.
Despite that, the contact sent a measurable surge through Soul’s system and occasionally his eyes rested on Jongseob instead of the cards. They played a few more games, Soul winning all of them. Although he had truly tried to lose, he simply couldn't suppress his superior problem solving.
“Again,” Jongseob said, already shuffling with renewed determination. “One more. No mercy.”
“No intentional inefficiency?” Soul clarified.
“None.”
They reset. Jongseob counted down faster this time. The cards snapped against the sand between them, movements less cautious now. Soul tracked patterns automatically. Color alternation, numerical sequencing, all second nature for him. But Jongseob’s rhythm had shifted. Less predictable. Slightly reckless. And while he could take that into account, he did not know Jongseob well enough to predict his next movement, perhaps he would—
Jongseob slammed his final card down. “Yes!” he shouted, jolting upright so suddenly the deck scattered. “Finally!”
He scrambled to his feet, arms thrown into the air in exaggerated victory. “You see that? I beat the human supercomputer!”
Soul blinked up at him. “I am not—”
Jongseob did a small, ridiculous dance in the sand, nearly tripping over his own heel. “Sorry, rematch denied. I remain undefeated.”
Jongseob bent down, grinning wide, cheeks flushed from more than the heat now. “Admit it. That felt 10 times more fun, and not just because I won.
Soul reviewed his internal logs.
Heart rate: elevated.
Cognitive load: reduced.
Outcome: loss.
Emotional disturbance: minimal.
“…It did,” he admitted - the data didn't lie.
“See?” Jongseob nudged his shoulder lightly. “You’re learning already.”
They gathered the cards together and resumed walking, leaving their uneven circle in the sand behind. The beach had thinned considerably; only a few silhouettes lingered near the water. Air had now cooled enough that goosebumps rose faintly along Jongseob’s arms.
“So,” Jongseob said after a stretch of quiet, “where are you staying?”
Soul stilled for a fraction of a second. “Define staying.”
“Like—” Jongseob gestured vaguely inland. “Hotel? Airbnb? Friend’s place? You said this is your first time here.”
“It is.”
“Then where are you sleeping?”
His device sent a stronger pulse, making him grab his neck and wince slightly. Luckily, Jongseob assumed it was just a mosquito and looked away.
Soul considered the truth: his pod embedded beneath dense forest canopy several kilometers inland, camouflage active, interior climate regulated, diagnostic systems humming through the night while he entered his rest cycles.
“I have accommodations,” Soul said carefully.
Jongseob squinted at him. “That’s not an answer.” Jongseob slowed his pace, turning to walk backward in front of him. “You’re not, like, camping illegally on the beach, are you?”
“No.”
“Sleeping in your car?”
“I do not possess a car.”
That, at least, was simple. Jongseob studied him longer than necessary. “You’re weirdly mysterious for someone who says everything so bluntly.”
“I reside near a wooded area,” he said finally. “It is temporary.”
“That sounds suspicious,” Jongseob replied, though his tone was light. “Are you safe?”
His device did a quick threat assessment:
Local environment: medium hostility.
Wildlife risk: high presence of foxes and bears creates reasonable risk.
Human interference probability: medium, university students could start fires.
Conclusion: unsafe.
“Not really, but I'll be fine.” Soul answered.
Jongseob seemed to accept that for now, though a faint crease remained between his brows. “If you need somewhere more… normal, I guess, I know people that could help. Or I could ask around the neighbourhood, people are nice around here.”
The offer hovered between them, unforced as Soul’s internal systems shifted subtly.
Subject extending resource access without transactional expectation.
Classification: care behavior.
Subject’s Confidence: 74% and decreasing, projected to reach a minimum of 25%.
“That would be useful,” Soul said, quieter than before.
Jongseob’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay. Come to mine, my mum won't care too much.” They reached the point where the sand met the paved path leading back toward the city lights. Streetlamps hummed one by one, bathing everything in muted amber.
Soul slowed. Jongseob noticed immediately. “What?”
“Your parental unit is aware of your invitation habits?” Soul asked.
Jongseob laughed under his breath. “It’s not like that. You’d just be crashing in the spare room. You look like you’ve never slept indoors before.”
“I have,” Soul said.
Technically true. The pod simulated interior habitation with precise atmospheric calibration. It simply did not include warm lighting, family photographs, or the faint sound of someone washing dishes in another room. Soul noticed how the paved path felt unfamiliar after the softness of sand. Jongseob shoved his hands into his pockets. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just—” He shrugged once. “It’s not that safe out there, you know? Especially at night.”
Soul could endure it. His physiology was adaptable. Surface injuries would regenerate. His pod’s perimeter shield would activate if breached. He should just decline the offer, just to keep everything as it should be.
“Soul?” Jongseob prompted gently. The way he said his name altered the internal calculations slightly.
“This arrangement would be temporary,” Soul said.
“Yeah. Obviously.” A quick smile. “Sadly, summer’s temporary Soul.”
Soul nodded once. “I will accept.”
Jongseob’s relief was immediate, “Okay. Good.”
They continued walking, closer now, shoulders nearly brushing under the streetlights. The air smelled less like salt. It was more like warm pavement, and distant cooking oil from the food stands still trying to scrape any remaining money from gullible tourists.
As the city lights grew brighter, he became acutely aware of his sealed vessel miles away beneath the trees. Its systems would note his absence from the perimeter tonight. It would not question it, for it did not possess curiosity. But, Soul still felt bad knowing it'd be alone.
Beside him, Jongseob kept talking: about his mum’s strictness about shoes indoors, about how the spare room still had old posters on the wall, about how he’d probably have to explain Soul’s “research” over dinner so she didn't think he was a madman or a murderer. They turned off the main road into a quieter neighborhood. The houses were close but not crowded, each with small front gardens and porch lights left on.
Jongseob slowed slightly. “It’s nothing special,” he said. “Just a normal house, so don't get too excited.”
Soul scanned the structure as they approached. Two-story dwelling. Warm interior lighting. Open window on the second floor. Auditory detection: faint television audio, ceramic dish contact, running water.
Jongseob slipped off his shoes at the door without hesitation. “You too.” Soul complied after a half-second delay, studying the ritual. Shoes aligned neatly against the wall. The secondary door opened before Jongseob could reach for the handle.
A woman stood there, drying her hands on a pale kitchen towel. She was not tall, but she carried herself with the same easy steadiness Jongseob had on the beach. Her hair, dark and slightly sun-faded at the ends, was pulled back loosely at the nape of her neck, wisps escaping around her temples. The porch light caught the warm undertone of her skin, the same honeyed shade as Jongseob’s, just softened by time. Her eyes moved from Jongseob to Soul in a single smooth sweep.
They were the same shape as Jongseob’s. Slightly hooded, sharp at the corners. Observant. Where Jongseob’s expressions tended to flicker quickly - from amusement, to curiosity and then teasing - hers were permanently calm. Still, the resemblance was unmistakable.
“You’re late,” she said.
“Shift ran over,” Jongseob replied easily. “This is Soul. He’s… doing research, he's from abroad. He has nowhere to stay so he's gonna stay here if that's cool.”
“Research,” she repeated.
Soul inclined his head. “Well it's a seasonal behavioural study.” He paused, remembering how Jongseob had laughed when he said that earlier, “I am studying how people in this area enjoy summer for my schoolwork.”
That seemed to satisfy her more. “Well. You both look exhausted. Come in, stay as long as you need Soul.”
Soul stepped across the threshold. The air inside was cooler but not mechanically regulated like his pod. It carried layered scents, soap, cooked rice, and vanilla fabric softener. The walls were lined with framed photographs. Jongseob at different ages. From only having 2 teeth to graduating high school with one small step.
Jongseob nudged him lightly. “You cool?”
“Yes.”
But his systems were processing more new information than usual, this being his first time in a human's home, making him feel slightly overwhelmed.
Dinner was simple. Rice, vegetables and fresh fish. Soul monitored his intake carefully, adjusting digestive filters in real time. Conversation moved around him at first, the mother and son spoke from opposite sides of the room about work schedules, neighborhood gossip, electricity bills. When his mum retired to bed, Jongseob pulled him in eventually, not wanting him to feel too alone.
“So what’s the weirdest thing you’ve noticed about summer so far? I know it's only day 1, but y'know.” he asked. Soul considered answering with more ultraviolet exposure statistics or how an analysis of beach materials, those seemed appropriate.
Instead, he said, “Humans tolerate discomfort for shared experience.”
Jongseob tilted his head. “Like what?”
“You remain outside despite the heat. You consume inefficient food. You compete in games with no material reward. As long as it can be done together, humans will gladly suffer.”
A faint smile. “You think that’s weird?”
“Very.”
Jongseob’s foot nudged his lightly under the table.
“It’s worth it,” he said.
After dinner, Jongseob showed him the spare room. It was small. A single bed. A desk cluttered with old notebooks. Posters half-peeled at the corners. Dust disturbed recently, likely cleaned in haste.
“It’s my older brother Theo’s old room, so it's a bit dirty, sorry.” Jongseob said. “Bathroom’s down the hall, tomorrow you can go grab your clothes.”
Soul laughed, he could change clothes automatically if he wished, having a suit which could morph to over 10,000 outfits, from maid dresses to swimsuits. But he nodded, not wanting to cause suspicion, more focused on how he was supposed to sleep in a human bed.
“You’ve never slept in this type of bed before, have you?” Jongseob asked, watching him stare at the bed dumbfounded.
“I have adapted to situations before!” Soul replied.
Jongseob leaned against the doorframe and sighed. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Just don’t disappear tomorrow morning, Okay?”
Soul met his gaze. “I will be present tomorrow!”
Jongseob pushed off the frame after a moment. “Goodnight, Soul.”
The door closed halfway, leaving a narrow line of hallway light across the floor. Soul sat carefully on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight in a way his pod never would. He lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling. In the next room, he could hear Jongseob moving, the drawer sliding shut, quiet footsteps, and the creak of another bed.
For the first time in years, Soul did not enter low-power rest immediately, lulled to sleep by the hazy gas of his sleeping pod. Instead, he replayed the sound of Jongseob cheering on the beach, gently soothing him till he fell fast asleep