I love having a human body.  I stretched out on the couch, from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes, the muscles all stretched out like little rubber bands and my fox-fur colored hair tumbled down over the side, swaying in the air blown by the little desk fan I had plugged into the wall a few feet away.

Did I mention I love having a human body?  Yes, that’s right, I’m not human, I’m alien to Earth.  Not that they know it, as far as I can tell, other than crackpots on this planet, nobody believes aliens exist, and only idiots believe in magic.

I snapped my fingers and after a brief flash of light the dimension of my palm, one of the milkshakes in my fridge appeared in my right hand. I tried several times to stick the straw in my mouth and poked my lips repeatedly before I found where the face hole was.

I love this body.  But it is somewhat awkward to get used to it again after every transformation.

My alien body didn’t really ‘need’ a mouth, and while it was kind of anthro-ish, that was imperfectly so.  

But on the plus side of shape shifting into various forms of life, I got their senses.  The flavor of chocolate exploded on my tongue.  I love the endless variety of foods and drinks and just… flavors in general.

I used my other hand to point my remote at the television and started up the latest anime episode of my favorite series again.  Magic has its uses, I can summon things as long as I know where they are.  I can make things as long as I know how they’re made.  I can even make minor ‘tweaks’ to them.  Like, I can’t turn my remote into a gun, but I could say, make it change the channel on a different model of television.

I can use it to summon a shield to protect me from harm, but I can’t use it to see the future to know the harm is coming.  Some of my colleagues in the agency can, and I don’t envy them, they’re bored all the time.  No new episodes of anything, they’ve already seen it in their heads, no surprises, no spice to their lives.  It’s honestly depressing.

I rolled onto my side and set the milkshake on the floor and yawned. I'm on vacation from my job right now, with nothing better to do but watch anime, listen to music, eat, drink, and sleep.

Nobody knows that, of course.  How could they?  I’m certainly not going to tell them that the girl nextdoor isn’t just from out of town, she’s from out of this world.

What’s my job?  My ‘agency’ as I put it?  

I’m what we call a ‘painter’.  It doesn’t sound like much in Earth terms, but I work for the Terrablien Hunter Association.  Most just call it ‘The Agency’.  We’re who other planets call for when there’s a ‘big bad’ to be dealt with.  Some world leader gets too big for his britches, we paint the walls of his house with his innards and make sure his successor gets the message.  Somebody launches an invasion they shouldn’t?  We paint their ships with the innards of senior leaders, and when their subordinates don’t turn the ships around the next day?  We paint the walls of their quarters with their innards.

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You’re probably seeing a pattern here, why they call us ‘Painters’.  We’re artists, really, in a way.  Artists for galactic peace, as long as everybody minds their own business, we don’t bother them at all.

The pay is good, and if you’re gifted with magic like I am, then it’s super easy.  Every job you do earns a week’s vacation in my planet’s terms, but here’s the thing, here’s why I like Earth.

While I’m human, I experience time the way normal humans do, and compared to us, humans have the lifespan of mayflies.  So my saved up vacation time means I can take what amounts to ‘months’ off at a time and do whatever I want.

I yawned and smiled as I watched the love interest girl fume on the screen while the boy she liked was talking to another girl.  Humans make the best entertainment.  

There was a knock on my door.  “‘Ello?”  I asked.

“Hi, it’s Jin.  Do you have a minute?”  His voice was muffled through the door, but charming as ever.

Here’s the thing, because in human terms my vacations are so long, and I’m away for so ‘short’ between jobs, nothing more than a few days, all my neighbors here think I’m just a shut-in NEET with no future, goals, drive, or ambition.

Which means they don’t really think anything about bothering me for anything at any time of day or night.

“The door is open.”  I said a little louder and paused my show.

“Are you dressed?”  He asked.

I was dressed, for once.  In long pajama pants and a top, the first time I vacationed on Earth, I wasn’t aware of those conventions and… it got awkward.

I tugged a little at the silk cloth, ‘No wonder humans wear clothes, it feels so good on this ‘skin’ of theirs.’  I thought, but out loud I said, “If I said no, could I watch the rest of my show in peace?”

“Um… yeah, I guess.  I mean, I don’t want to bother you, I can come back later…”  He sounded embarrassed, but I was only teasing him and I quickly answered.

“Relax, you big idiot, I’m dressed, I’m dressed.  It’s not like you got me pregnant from one look.”  I laughed and sat up on my couch, I found this wonderful thing sitting outside, dumped by somebody, a little elbow grease and some magic, and it was like new… sort of.

But the rest of my apartment wasn’t.  A scattering of food wrappers lay between a small folding wooden table and the floor, along with a handful of empty cans and two liter bottles.

Oh well.  It wasn’t presentable, but what of it?

The door opened and there was the red faced young man, Jin Toriyama.  His black hair was cut short and he wore a food stained white shirt with the number nine on the front, and a pair of jean shorts with sneakers.  Under his right arm was a high school textbook.  In terms of proportion, he and I were about the same age, but since knowledge is done via direct implantation on my world, I already had decades worth of education under my belt and I’d had it for longer than his lifetime.  I got the feeling I knew what was coming.

“Hey, I was wondering, could you maybe… help me with some of my school work… I’m not that good at math, you know… if you do, I’ll clean your place for you…”

I grinned,  I was right.  “It’s a deal, I’ll order us something to eat, that way we don’t have to make anything, but first I want to finish this episode.”

“Alright.”  He grinned and headed to my kitchen table and sat down while I reclined and started the episode back up.  

“You can watch with me, if you want, it’s only got another ten minutes.”  I offered.

“Oh, alright then, thanks Kayobi.”  he said with that sweet smile on his face and sat beside me.  The exaggerated animated scene of the love interest holding a baseball bat and running in place toward her rival while breathing hard as her companion held her back and talked to her, made me laugh again.

“Want a sip?”  I asked and bent forward to pick up my milkshake, then held it out to him.

He accepted it and stared down at the straw without saying anything while I focused on my show.

It may seem strange, but there’s no vacation like a NEET vacation. I'm Kayobi Taida, and this is the story of my days off, and what made them the greatest days of a very long life.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.