Chapter Thirty-Two

I didn’t mind Celia falling asleep that way, it was even kind of cute. Thankfully, it was my love of anime shows that helped me through this dire moment. ‘Thanks to that endless adulation for little sisters and young girls… except for the pervert stuff, I know exactly what to do in this situation.’ I thought, and just relaxed to keep watching stuff until the sun started to come up.

Can I just say again how awesome it is for me to be a NEET? No job to go to… for the moment at least, meant I had absolutely no need to move. Yes, eventually human biology would compel me to move, to use the bathroom, but ‘I’ had no problem shifting and could just change over to something that didn’t have those requirements.

I raised an eyebrow and looked down at Celia, ‘Given how much she’s had to eat or drink, it’s amazing she hasn’t had to yet but… that won’t last. Poor thing, she is not going to enjoy that one little bit.’ I thought and pinched my nose.

Being human was fun, but they did have their gross parts.

“I should probably mention that to her…” I muttered, the only bathrooms she’d know about involved incredible misunderstandings between the protagonist and the love interest and she’d have no idea what people were actually doing sitting in there. “She’ll probably think it’s just some weird cultural thing for isolation and meditation or something… which is kind of right but… also not. Great. You’re talking to yourself again, Kayobi.” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Talking about what?” Celia mumbled, the light was streaming through the window and had risen enough to hit her eyelids. She brought a hand up to her face and let out a yawn from her sleepy little mouth. Her lips smacked together and only after a moment of confusion passed over her face when her eyes fluttered open, did she awaken completely.

Her eyes popped open and she stared at Kayobi’s sleeve where it was wet.

“Is that-”

“Did I-”

Celia started to ask two sentences and finished neither, her finger came up and went into her mouth to touch her tongue as if to confirm the worst possible thing.

“Mouth fluid?!” She exclaimed.

“They call it ‘drool’ when it comes out like that, actually.” I explained, “Basically you were ‘drooling on me’ while you slept.” I was actually more amused than grossed out. Maybe because being in a human form, I saw her more childlike, and humans tend to put up with a lot from children.

Celia, of course, was horrified. She sat straight up and vigorously wiped her mouth with the top of her arm and then began rubbing the other side of her arm against the wet spot on mine. “I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean to do that!” She exclaimed and stared up at me, wide eyed and uncertain of what else to say or do but apologize and try to clean up the mess.

“Meh,” I shrugged, “It happens. If I cared that much I’d have woken you up or something. Besides, I’d be a pretty bad senpai if I made a fuss over you not knowing things about a form you have no experience with… speaking of…”

“What’s a senpai?” She asked.

“A word here, it’s basically a ‘senior’ someone who is in a position to offer guidance and instruction. An older student, older sibling, more experienced coworker.” I explained that to her, and she seemed to grasp it, I was actually worried she wouldn’t. Swappers don’t really take much in the way of advice, or give it, either.

“Speaking of.” I said and grabbed my phone, I swapped over to a video service and searched for videos on toilet training. “I want you to go into the bathroom, the room with the shower, and sit on the toilet there, that weird furniture that all those comic misunderstandings happen in.”

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“The meditation chair?” She asked.

“That’s a new word for it, but yes. That. And I want you to watch every video on here until everything… works itself out. It’s a lot of fun to be human, but it does have its downsides.” I handed her the phone and as she got up I said, “I’ll just watch t.v. really loud to give you privacy.”

She left somewhat reluctantly, with a backwards glance my way until I gave an encouraging nod, and then I turned on a very short show. A boy with a weird toilet fixation and a really good bicycle who was constantly getting into shenanigans with women.

It seemed appropriate, under the circumstances. As shows went, it was half decent, kind of funny, definitely had its moments, not nearly as gross as it could have been.

“I have to do what?!” Celia was shouting. I pitied her. “I hate this!” She shouted.

“Well, you’re stuck, so it can’t be helped! Just clean up real good and we’ll try some new ways to get you unstuck!” I shouted as the credits started to roll.

I don’t know how to describe the sound she made, some mix of anger, frustration, annoyance, and distress? Is there a word for that noise? If there is, I don’t know what it might be.

There was the sound of flushing, a dull roar that probably had her face turning bright red. Then the sound repeated. And repeated again.

I was just about to give in to impulse, stand up, and go see if something was wrong. But then the noise didn’t repeat itself.

She came out a few minutes later, “Can we never speak of this?” She asked and sat on the couch beside me.

“The only ones who do are either perverts or doctors.” I said, and then paused the show as the credits finished.

“We tried various flavors, by extension, we’ve tried various smells… we need to get creative. Maybe if we exhausted you? You know, various energy levels, maybe if you got tired your body would revert on its own?” I suggested.

I had my doubts about that. But we had to try everything.

“How do we do that?” She asked.

“Easy.” I said and got up, went to the window, and pointed outside. I could already hear the noise outside. “Rugby.” I pointed out the window.

“Rugby?” She asked.

“A popular sport on this world, here, there’s an anime that explains the basics.” I switched over to a comedy about a child soldier and mech pilot acting as a bodyguard to a special pretty girl with secret technology knowledge. Strangely enough, their romantic subtext worked very well, and included a comedic episode focused entirely on his attempt to reform a failing rugby team into something respectable… with hilarious results.

Celia sat and watched as the rules were explained in short form, and while she did, she was looking up the rules on my phone. “Is this sport really for people…” She looked down at herself, “my size?”

“There are junior players, and they happen to be outside right now. And it looks to me like they’re short by two.” I said after doing a quick count. This area didn’t have much money, so it was unsurprising that they didn’t really have a proper field. They’d marked their lines with duct tape on the grass and a few old orange traffic cones marked the goal positions.

“What if I embarrass myself?” Celia asked and bit her lower lip, “I’ve never done it before.”

“Me neither, and… I’ll tell you what, if you embarrass yourself, I’ll embarrass myself worse just so nobody notices you anymore. It’s not like I’ll have to take the same form twice, so nobody will know it’s ‘me’.” I said, and then I shrank myself down, changed my hair from orange to blue, and from a girl to a young boy. I was slightly taller than her, and a little more muscular.

“Besides, remember, you’re still a painter. You have all the right instincts, and you should still have access to your magic, just use some to enhance yourself a little to give yourself an edge. Nothing dramatic, but enough so that you don’t look bad in anybody’s eyes.” I suggested.

Her eyes brightened with a hint of relief, painters are very precise, we’re naturally fit and our physical instincts are good. Even when we’re limited by the forms we take, we’re still worth something. I was confident she’d be fine, even if Celia herself wasn’t.

“Oh… Okay.” Celia replied and got to her feet.

With that, it was time to go. “Just remember I’m a… distant cousin, just passing through and you were spending time with me, call me ‘Akira’ while we’re out there.”

Cover stories were easy enough to manage for us no matter what. “Can do… cousin.” She smiled, it was a sweet smile, nervous, anxious, fragile, and her hand shook a little when she reached for the handle of the door.

But she was going, and that was a step forward no matter what the outcome. I wondered, ‘Will she ever really see that I’m actually her friend, and not just trying to get something over on her?’ I had hopes at least, I doubt she’d have gone out like this if she didn’t at least have some trust in me.

And trust, even when it was fragile, was a step forward too.