The dry pain in her nose yanked her out of sleep abruptly.
Andy opened her eyes with a groan, bringing both hands to her face as her body tried to remember where it was and why the world was upside down.
She sat up clumsily, only to realize she had fallen out of bed. Her entire body felt heavy, as if it had been replaced by a sack of wet sand. She didn't feel rested at all; more like she'd slept with her back under a truck and her head buried in fresh cement.
Her legs protested as she stood and stumbled toward the kitchen. Her back was so hunched that, with a simple push, anyone could have sent her back to the floor without effort. Still, she moved forward, sliding more than walking, until she reached the fridge and took a big swig of the first juice she found.
Mid-sip, an idea crossed her mind like a slow, lazy flash.
¿When… did I buy a new one?
The doubt faded as quickly as it came. She had no energy to investigate it or get alarmed about anything. She just let the cool liquid slide down her throat.
—¡Good morning!
Jarek's cheerful shout bounced around the entire kitchen like a bucket of ice water. Andy choked immediately, spitting out the juice as she coughed uncontrollably. She stared at that floating head, eyes wide open before her brain reacted.
—It really wasn't a nightmare…— she murmured, more to herself than to him.
Jarek tilted his head with a proud smile.
—Exactly. You woke up and I'm still here. Radiant, useful, and extremely charming.
Andy glared at him with a tired look that, frankly, would have sent any human to the corner of regret. Jarek, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it.
—You look like shit.
—¡And whose fault is that!
She yelled, throwing the half-empty carton at him. Jarek caught it in the air with an elegant gesture.
—Your coordination improves when you're furious. We should make you angry more often — he said, waving the carton victoriously.
Andy just growled.
—Could you stay quiet for, I don't know… ¿My whole life?
She spoke with such sincerity and exhaustion that, for an instant—just one—Jarek almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
—I made you breakfast
he announced with satisfaction. Before Andy could demand explanations or run in the opposite direction, a chair slid behind her knees. Jarek guided her gently, let her drop onto the seat, and—without asking permission—pushed both toward the dining table. She was ready to protest when a warm, deep aroma hit her full force. Grilled meat. Juicy. Perfectly seasoned. Her stomach growled so loudly that, if she had any shame, she would've apologized. Andy blinked, dazed by the smell.
The aroma intoxicated her completely. Her stomach—reluctantly accustomed to living off frozen food and instant soups—roared with the ferocity of an ancient beast freshly awakened.
Her eyes darted from the food to the chef.
Because, of course, ¿Why would a giant slime need to learn how to cook?
Bah. Priorities.
—¿Where did you get the meat? — The last coherent thought in her mind took control, and with saliva dripping from the corner of her lip, she managed to speak. — Don't tell me you stole it…
Actually, she didn't even care if he'd broken that ridiculous promise of "I won't go out without your permission." She never believed him. Besides, the crime was already committed; future scandal wouldn't change that.
But if he went out…
Well, he could've at least brought more meat.
—It was in some boxes in front of one of the downstairs doors, — he explained, raising a shiny finger. — Finders keepers losers weepers
Andy opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. She had so many things to say that her brain decided to crash and leave her silent.
—Besides —Jarek continued — you need to eat something decent. I need you in optimal condition. It'd be problematic if you broke down from lack of stamina.
She wanted to argue.
She really wanted to.
But the meat was calling her with the seductive voice of an ancient god. Jarek, of course, noticed.
—Go on — he said, with that unbearable mix of tenderness and mischief that made Andy want to hit him and hug him at the same time. — Eat. Your stomach's making more noise than you.
She growled something like "don't boss me around," but she was already grabbing the fork.
And at the first bite… oh.
A bit disappointing, to be honest. Still, her shoulders relaxed, her eyes watered, and a sound escaped her throat. A sound no adult human would ever admit to making. Not even her downstairs neighbor's yelling stopped her from continuing to eat.
Andy, still chewing, looked up and noticed Jarek watching her with such intense attention it was impossible to ignore. The discomfort crawled up her spine. With guilt and a slight gratitude, she cut half the meat and offered it with an almost childlike shyness.
—¿What are you doing? — he asked.
—I thought you might be hungry — she huffed. — And because… ugh, I don't know… because it feels crappy not to offer when you're the one who made it.
Jarek blinked slowly.
—Yeah, well… we share a stomach — Jarek tried to sound casual, but his voice trembled slightly. — Everything you eat, you share with me. You don't need to…
And there he stopped. His body, always vibrant, always moving as if it didn't understand the concept of staying still, suddenly froze. A memory crossed his mind: entire nights devouring whatever he could find among the Garm, swallowing scraps, remains, anything minimally nutritious. Completely alone. At least as alone as an old man in a cabin with only an iguana for company.
Sharing, offering, splitting a plate, receiving a gesture of kindness.
He might've been exaggerating, but it was a concept he'd let rust in some corner of his mind. Three measly months in the wild didn't seem like much, but they'd been enough. Enough to shrink his entire world to hunger, survival, silence, and infernal boredom.
—No…— he said softly, surprisingly gentle. — Anyway, I appreciate the gesture, but you don't need to do it.
The sound cracked just a bit, a minimal vibration, almost imperceptible—but it was there. A torn thread amid a tangle of irony and bravado.
Andy noticed it.
"Weird."
That was all she thought.
She shrugged, accepted the moment as it was, and kept eating as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. Jarek just didn't know how to put it into words. A gesture as simple as offering food had brushed a part of his chest.
And he stayed quiet, unnaturally still, trying to understand why that nonsense—a half portion of meat, a domestic and warm act—had moved him so much. Andy finished cleaning the plate. When she looked up, Jarek was still there, watching her with that awkward silence. Then, very slowly, he extended a kind of dark filament and used it to lift the empty plate.
—¿More?
—¿Do you have more?
—No.
—…Then don't ask, idiot.
He smiled. Before Andy could stand, Jarek was already dragging the chair with her on it toward the living room, ready for the next disaster of the day.
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Hours later, Andy found herself hiding in one of the corners of the building next to Paper's café. She pressed her back against the wall, breathing deeply. From her hiding spot, she watched her friend through the windows fogged by freshly brewed coffee and the morning crowd.
Paper was working, moving between tables with that charming efficiency and a smile Andy could never mimic without looking like she was asking for help. No one would believe she'd been devoured just hours ago. Andy sighed, letting her head fall against the wall. And yet, she didn't go in. Because she knew that, the moment she did, Paper would notice the indelible mark of morning chaos courtesy of Jarek on her face.
She'd start asking questions.
«"Are you okay?"»
No. I was invaded by two dangerous entities with excessive morning enthusiasm.
«"Why are you shaking?"»
Because one of them made me a breakfast that tasted almost like heaven, and then pushed me around the house in my chair like a haunted shopping cart.
Yeah. Hard to explain without ending up committed or under investigation.
—¿Aren't you going to say hi?
Jarek asked, whispering in her brain. Andy's body bristled. It still made her extremely uncomfortable to hear a foreign voice inside her head—it always felt like an invasion, a door left open where there shouldn't be one.
—Not a good time.
Without looking back, she turned and walked away. At least for now, she preferred to keep contact with her friends to a minimum.
—Ajá..
he replied, not particularly eager to press further.
Paper was trustworthy. Even if she found out, it wouldn't be the end of the world. In the worst case, it'd just take erasing a few memories and done. That was probably why Andy didn't want her to get close. She'd seen him leave several people unconscious. Maybe she didn't know exactly what he did to them or how, but she knew he could do it without hesitation and wouldn't risk letting Paper get involved.
"How cruel," he finally thought,"but fair."
...
….
..
"¡Wait a minute, but I've done it before and nothing happened to her!, ¿Why is she so scared?"
The silence stretched between them as they walked, broken only by the distant echo of the city and the scrape of their steps against the ground.
—¿So, what do you want to do today?
Andy took a second to respond. She looked ahead, then at the ground, and finally at the dim sky between buildings.
—I was planning to go home, get depressed and die. But I'm open to suggestions.
—How dramatic.
The world tilted slightly as Jarek took control again and steered her along the sidewalk, leading her toward a board embedded in a building wall. Andy's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't the first time. And yet, it never stopped feeling wrong.
—¡Stop doing that!
she shouted, her voice cracking more than she wanted to admit. She stopped dead only when he allowed it. Andy stood rigid, clenching her fists, trying to reclaim something as basic as the certainty of being in charge.
—Uh… sorry. Force of habit.
That was what enraged her most. The casualness with which he spoke only fueled her anger.
—I'm not a toy — she murmured. — You can't turn me on whenever you feel like it.
There was a brief pause. Long enough for Andy to think that, maybe, this time he'd say something coherent.
—Whatever, look at that.
Ignoring her, Jarek directed her attention to the wall. This time he didn't force her to move. He just nudged her to notice. Andy clenched her jaw but followed the cue. The board was covered in overlapping announcements and dog-eared corners. There were supermarket ads promising "unrepeatable" discounts that had been there for months, poorly printed maps with hand-marked routes, outdated political propaganda, and small personal notes pinned with rusty tacks: wanted, for rent, lost.
Among them stood out the recent notices, printed on cleaner paper, with official stamps and still-fresh ink. Summarized news in big headlines, meant to be read on the go: street closures, health warnings, dubious rewards, and the occasional notice that smelled like trouble from afar.
Andy crossed her arms.
—¿This was so important you ignored that you almost gave me a heart attack?
—Yes. I mean, no — he corrected. — But this smells interesting.
Her attention fixed on one of the center announcements, secured with four new nails—too new for that grimy board. The paper was thick, almost elegant. Bluish tones, curved lines mimicking rising steam, and in the background, the blurred silhouette of a moon reflected on still water.
KHAL-MEREN HOT SPRINGS
Limited Reopening.
Andy narrowed her eyes and read over his shoulder.
—¿Hot springs? — she murmured. — ¿That's what you found 'interesting'?
—They're not just hot springs —Jarek replied, with a barely hidden satisfaction. — Look at the fine print.
Andy sighed, leaned in a little closer, and read:
Deep Immersion Treatments. Certified Regenerative Effects. Isolated Environment. Privacy Guaranteed. Recommended for Severe Physical and Mental Exhaustion.
The paper had handwritten notes on the bottom edge: irregular hours, vague warnings about "restricted areas," and an almost hidden note saying
"Not recommended for unstable species."
Jarek smiled.
—That sounds… expensive. — She swallowed.
—It sounds like hot steam — he countered. — Besides, your body's wrecked. Stress, crappy sleep, and muscles tense as wire. A hot bath won't kill you.
Andy's body reacted before her pride. The idea of hot water enveloping her, muscles loosening, no longer feeling the constant weight on her shoulders was dangerously tempting.
—Curious that you're worried about my well-being now after kidnapping my legs. We're not going.
—Oh, come on — Jarek replied, almost offended. — It wasn't kidnapping, and I'm not done yet.
He pointed to the bottom of the announcement.
Reopening Offer. Free Entry for Local Residents This Week.
¡That's even more suspicious! — she said, now surer of rejecting it. — That's exactly how stories start where people disappear.
'That's the point'
Jarek thought to himself before pulling Andy's phone from her pocket.
—I don't want to scare you, but your brother's coming tonight. You know, to INVESTIGATE some things, just protocol.
Andy froze.
—…¿What?
Jarek flipped open the phone with insulting ease and showed her the screen. An unread message, short and ominous.
"Stopping by tonight. Just to check. Don't move."
She pressed her lips together, trembling between panic and rage.
—I hate you. — Andy pointed at the announcement. — If I disappear…
—I promise I'll disappear with you — Jarek replied, delighted. — Full team.
That didn't reassure her at all.
----------------------------------------
The water temperature was perfect.
Andy sank slowly up to her shoulders, letting out the air in a sigh that bordered on indecent.
—Oh no… —she murmured. — This is a trap.
The steam fogged her vision, enveloping her in a thick mist that erased the world beyond the polished rocks and the constant murmur of the water. The weight of her body seemed to dissolve until no trace remained.
—¿See? — Jarek commented, with barely hidden satisfaction. — Nothing relaxes better than a good hot bath.
Andy didn't respond. She just sank a little deeper, closed her eyes, and let the water do whatever it needed to do. The facility was designed to invite the body to surrender. The main pool extended in wide submerged steps, meant for entering gradually, letting the heat take hold without rush. The water, clear despite the steam, flowed in slow currents, loaded with minerals that left a velvety sensation on the skin.
—I'm still mad at you — she warned, without opening her eyes — but I admit this is good.
The heat did the rest. When she finally emerged from the bath, skin flushed and muscles loose, she was greeted by an abrupt change of scenery.
A long, low table occupied the center of the adjacent area, covered in small plates, bowls, and trays full of snacks in strange shapes and colors: golden doughs filled with sweet steam, shiny strips that looked like candied fruit but smelled of salty spices, translucent gels that wobbled just from looking at them. Everything was arranged with an almost ceremonial order. Waiters and other staff moved around with silent, efficient steps, replacing empty plates, adjusting containers, serving steaming drinks without disturbing anyone.
Andy stood still for a second, still wrapped in the residual calm of the hot water, observing the table. Just outside, in the common courtyard, stretched a garden that seemed designed to slow anyone's pulse who looked at it. Smooth stone paths wound between low flowerbeds, bordered by soft mosses and broad-leaved plants that caught the escaping steam from the baths. The air was thick with a faint scent of damp earth and night-blooming flowers, the kind that only open when the world lowers its voice.
Small ponds reflected the warm light of low lanterns, their surfaces barely rippled by the slow circling of pale fish. Among the rocks, carefully pruned bushes revealed delicate white and purple flowers whose petals glowed under the evening light.
Nothing was random, but nothing felt rigid.
The perfect scene to smooth life's rough edges…
If not for the shouting and shoving happening right in front of where she planned to sit.
—¡Stop following me! — shouted a man, struggling to free himself from the grip on his arm.
—¡I'm not following you, I'm walking with you! — she replied, with such sincere conviction it was unsettling.
She was tall, a height that forced the human body to recalibrate instinctive distance—not imposing by strength, but by presence. Her figure was stylized, almost ethereal, designed to move with natural elegance in wide spaces. Her hair fell in a silky cascade, too perfect to look careless, too alive to look artificial.
Each strand caught the lantern light with a soft glow, sliding over her large, pointed ears. Her pupils, dilated even under the warm garden lighting, seemed to absorb everything. Her irises, far from simple, showed complex patterns—delicate fractals repeating and branching inward.
Her expression wasn't anger or threat. On the contrary. There was a dangerous mix of genuine confusion and affection on her face.
She held the man's arm with both hands—not violently, but with the clumsiness of someone who doesn't understand why the other is trying to escape something that, to her, was clearly good.
Æthari.
The thought hit Andy with the sharpness of a cold blow. She blinked, surprised. They weren't usually allowed access to cities with human populations, at least not without strict surveillance, protocols, official eyes following their every step.
Seeing one there, loose, clinging to a stranger in a public place… A bad feeling tightened her stomach.
—I just want to be with you — she added, lowering her voice a bit.
Beside her, Jarek whistled. — Tall ones, just how Mom likes them — he joked as primordial envy burned like a thousand hells in his nonexistent heart. — ¿A 2-meter clingy elf? Damn, I need one of those.
A comment so simple and stupid it completely wrinkled Andy's face. No idea what an elf was, and she preferred not to know.
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PRE-MULTISPECIES REGULATION RECORDS ÆTHARI - HUMANDOCUMENTED CASE No. AETH-HU 511-YKClassification: Under Supervision – Humorous for Everyone Except the Victim.
Status: Active – Administrative Intervention Pending for 9 Months
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CASE NAME:
"No, Seriously, Someone Do Something"
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INFORMANT:
Yuki S. (Human, 17 years old) Third-cycle basic student, acceptable academic average, clean medical history, allergic to cilantro and ethereal injustice.
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SUBJECT OF COMPLAINT:
Seylën Qyvra, Juvenile VARÜN Æthari aged 120 years (approximately 16 human years), student at the same mixed interspecies institute, Interspecies Ethics I class.
For the past 4 months, Seylën has openly and publicly declared that Yuki is her "Selenvë of bright blood and perfect renal light." Since then, a series of disturbing events have been recorded for the affected party.
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STATEMENTS FROM THE AFFECTED:
"¡This isn't funny anymore! She gets to my house before I do, my mom likes her, my Druz'ya doesn't care, and my friends think she's 'cute' because she levitates. ¡SHE LEVITATES!, ¿And me?, ¿How am I supposed to escape someone who floats?"
"¡She's even taller than my parents! ¿Are you sure she's my age?"
"Yesterday she sang in front of the cafeteria: 'Let me drink your light forever, Yuki of my time.' THAT RHYMES IN HER NATIVE LANGUAGE, NOT MINE!"
"Last time she left me a heart-shaped fruit with my initials made of blue fire. ¡WITH FIRE!, ¡¿And that's not harassment?! But oh no, sure, because she's Æthari it's romantic, ¿Right? If I did it with a knife and a watermelon, I'd get arrested, ¿Right? Cosmic double standard, that's what it is."
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REGISTERED INCIDENTS:
Day 42: Volunteered in biology class to "genetically examine the reproductive perfection of her selenvë." The teacher thought it was a poetic metaphor. It wasn't.
Day 53: Tried to build a floating nest of ethereal petals in front of Yuki's house. A neighbor thought it was conceptual art.
Day 75: Invited Yuki to her "Trial Union Rite." He rejected the invitation. Seylën responded with a poem invoking the "Garden of Reincarnations." No one understood what it meant. The atmosphere grew tense.
Day 91: Yuki found his toothbrush inside an Æthari crystal reliquary. No one knew how she got it. Security recommended "locking windows properly."
Day 102: Seylën organized what she called her "Trine Light Union Ceremony," an event supposedly inspired by ancestral Æthari traditions, though it was later discovered that several parts of the ceremony were taken from illustrated romance novels and unverified forums.
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INTERVENTION:
When Yuki formally filed a complaint with his school's Interspecies Coordinator, the response was:
"Well, Yuki, it's just a phase. Æthari are pretty intense at that age. ¡Take it as a compliment! Besides, Seylën is an excellent student"
Yuki cried for 23 minutes that day.
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SOCIAL MEDIA:
@XxPlasmaWife:
"¡Marry her, you coward! I'd give my liver for an Æthari to notice me."
@KatsuUniverse:
"Wait a second… her? I could've sworn she was a guy at the beginning of the year."
@Coordinadora_Mixta:
"We remind everyone that relationships must be based on consent. Though if there's an astral connection, everything becomes subjective."
@SeylënSelenvëFan:
"She loves him so much it's adorable! That useless human is so lucky."
@Cheepy_love2:
"She took his underwear as a sacred relic. She wrote him a song titled 'Give Me Your Womb'! HE'S A 15-YEAR-OLD BOY!"
@ArmonistÆthari3:
"Love knows no ages. The Bond does not discriminate."
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ANNEX
Partial internet access ban is being considered for all Æthari who have not passed psychological and emotional exams.