Tea. Of all the things in the world, tea was apparently Lena's comfort drink. And now, somehow, I had to be the one serving it.
He returned, smiling faintly, holding a steaming mug. My brain immediately started screaming: Do not mess this up. Do not spill. Do not inhale the hot steam like a maniac. Observe, empathize, survive.
I took the cup with shaking hands. Too shaking, apparently, because I nearly tipped it over. My new fingers were not designed for subtlety. They felt long and fragile, like expensive glassware. I had to grip the mug differently, using my thumb and three fingers, terrified of the weight. Where is the brute-force grip my old hands had? I wondered. I realized I was focusing so hard on my hands that I couldn't feel my feet. This body requires full attention just to stand still. The porcelain mug was warm, almost hot, and I felt the heat much more intensely than before. Lena, your sense of touch is set way too high! I wanted to yell. I carefully moved the mug toward my mouth like I was disarming a bomb.
"Careful!" he said, raising his hands like a referee in a boxing match.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered. Internally screaming. This is just the first five minutes and I'm already failing at being a human. This body is a death trap.
Seraphine's voice whispered faintly, calm and infuriatingly patient. Observe her habits. Mirror them subtly. Build trust. Connection is about empathy, not panic.
Right. Observation. I inhaled slowly, then exhaled. I sipped. Okay. Not burned yet. Not a total disaster. One small victory.
He watched, bemused. "You're nervous."
"Yes," I admitted, waving my hands like it explained everything. "Nervous is my default setting!"
He chuckled softly. "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."
That… actually helped. Lena's body reacted strangely—a flutter of calm I could feel, like I'd just thrown a tiny stone into a still pond and it made a ripple of trust.
Okay. Lesson one in action: subtle empathy works.
I continued speaking, carefully mirroring her gestures and speech patterns as Seraphine instructed. Okay, I saw her cross her legs like this. Is that a calm thing or a defensive thing? I tried to copy the move, but Lena's knees bumped together awkwardly, and I had to quickly uncross them. I settled for holding the mug with both hands, which felt safe and totally neutral. I watched his face to see if he noticed my weird, twitchy movements. He looked perfectly relaxed. I realized I had absolutely no frame of reference for how women communicate when they aren't yelling at me in video games. This was going to take a lot more practice.
"Busy week?" I asked cautiously.
"Yes. Meetings, deadlines… stuff," he replied.
I nodded slowly. Observe. Listen. Respond. "Sounds exhausting. You deserve a break."
He blinked. "Thanks. That's… thoughtful."
I nearly fainted. Thoughtful? I just gave a compliment that didn't sound like a robot malfunctioning.
SYSTEM REMINDER: Emotional influence successful. Minor trust gained.
"See?" Seraphine whispered in my mind. "You're capable. Patience. Observe first. Small gestures build connections faster than grand declarations."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Patience. Okay. I could do that. Right?
Then came the awkward part. Conversation stalled. I panicked internally. Small talk! Small talk! Safe! Neutral!
"Uh… tea hot?" I queried, frantically grasping at simple phrases.
He chuckled softly. "Perfect. Just enough caffeine to stay awake, not enough to jitter. How do you know so much about tea?"
I froze. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth?
SYSTEM REMINDER: Honesty preferred when appropriate. Exaggeration allowed sparingly.
"I… read labels?" I replied weakly.
He smiled faintly. That… that tiny smile actually lifted something heavy I didn't know Lena had been carrying. The room felt lighter.
SYSTEM REMINDER: Emotional influence increased. Connection strengthening.
I flopped onto the couch—careful not to overdo it. Everything in Lena's body felt alien. Even sitting down was a minor battle with physics.
Seraphine's voice purred in my mind. Observe the host's routines. Modify your actions. You are Lena. Only partly. Your empathy bridges the gap.
I groaned. "Connecting divides… great metaphor. My life is now a metaphor for anxiety."
He laughed softly again. The sound was like sunlight filtering through a rainy window. It made something inside me… tense and uncoiling.
The sensation was intense, comforting and completely frightening. Abort! my inner voice shrieked. That felt too much like a genuine human moment! We don't do genuine human moments! I instantly clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the feeling. I had to remind myself that this reaction was Lena's, not mine, and I needed to harness it, not flee from it. My fundamental training—steering clear of any intimacy—was fighting the mission. This was a battle between my lifelong loneliness and Heaven's strange requirement for affection.
Tea finished, small talk navigated without major disaster. I survived. Somehow.
SYSTEM REMINDER: First milestone complete. Observe before action. Connection beginning.
"Good job," Seraphine whispered. "Now, wait for the next emotional cue. Timing matters. Influence subtly. Avoid overreach."
"Right," I muttered, sinking back into Lena's couch. Okay, I didn't die. I didn't spill the tea. I didn't insult his mother. That counts as a massive win. I adjusted my posture slightly. I already knew Lena's back muscles weren't nearly strong enough to support my old man-slouch. I also realized I needed to use the bathroom, a sudden, urgent physical demand I hadn't prepared for. This body had so many fragile requirements!
And just as I relaxed slightly, my heart-rate monitor—well, my internal soul monitor, really—pinged a warning:
Emotional turbulence detected. New response required.
He, who had been quietly watching me, suddenly leaned forward, concern etched on his face.
"Lena, are you okay? You look like you just remembered something terrible."
SYSTEM ALERT: Interaction forthcoming. Modify tactics. Watch closely, empathize, guide.
I swallowed. My first mission had just begun. I already felt like a man juggling flaming swords while riding a unicycle… in someone else's body.
Perfect.
Welcome to life 2.0, me. Good luck surviving this one.