"So, uh, mind telling me why did you cry back then?" I ask Asya while giving her a mug of tea. The girl in question took the steaming drink from my hands with a 'Thanks', hanging her head in a somewhat apologetic manner.
We were back at my house now, some 30 minutes after that… incident. We made our way back fine, although I took a few wrong turns, resulting in us almost getting lost. That's what you get for navigating through the parts of town you've rarely been at, I guess. Thankfully, I managed to figure out our position by spotting familiar buildings, avoiding embarrassing myself. But there were almost no people, like I wanted, so… mission accomplished.
After getting home I went to the kitchen to make some tea for Asya to calm down, while she stayed in the living room. She didn't make a sound while I was putting the kettle on, sitting on an armchair, emanating an almost physical gloomy atmosphere. Even after I went upstairs for a quick change of clothes she was still there, in the same position: she had her wings folded and pressed to her back, her long black hair was hiding her face and the tip of her snake tail was swaying anxiously.
Seeing this sight made my heart ache, because, to me, such feelings were familiar, painfully so. Being laughed at, ridiculed for the look that just so happens to be different from the standards, set by society, you go somewhere quiet, away from others, and think. Think about why this is happening, why this is happening to you and what can be done. These are not happy thoughts, I know that, and I also know that I don't want to see Asya go through this. I don't want her to think of herself as a freak, to hate herself for being different. And, as a host, it is my responsibility to help my homestays whenever they need. A good start would be to find the reason of her sudden outburst.
After giving the black haired girl her tea, I seated myself on an armchair next to hers, holding a mug of my own. As I took a sip, I watched Asya flick her tongue quickly, after which she raised her head with an interested face. She then put the mug to her lips, taking a few audible gulps, before turning to me and asking, "This tea tastes funny, different from this morning's and yesterday's. What is this?"
"Eh, just some herbal mix, mainly peppermint and motherwort," I answered, shrugging slightly. "Helps to calm down after stress – that's why I'm giving it to you."
"Oh, I see," she said with her lips curling into a small smile. "Thank you," she quietly added, drinking some more tea.
'Heh, 'thank you'. Haven't heard that one in a while, especially from a girl,' I thought, making a few gulps myself. As the beverage went down my throat, with temperature and menthol flavor came a relaxing feeling, which soothed my nerves. I like this stuff, especially after talking with a particularly dumb client.
"Anyway, the question still stands. Why… Why did you start crying back then?" I asked before my thoughts had a chance to go the wrong way. "I mean, I'm not pushing you to answer if you don't want to. But it will certainly help-"
"I don't know…"
"Huh?" Asya's quiet words caught me off-guard, making me look at her. She held her mug tightly with her black scaly hands, the claw on her left thumb scratching anxiously against it. Her stare was focused on the yellowish-green beverage, her saphire eyes barely blinking. Watching at her, I could clearly understand, that it was a hard thing for her to say, but, knowing me, I needed to ask her. I didn't want the trust we had - if there is any - to be ruined by a possible misunderstanding. I don't need any chances. So, with that in mind, I leaned a little bit closer to the aspid, who didn't react at all. "What do you mean by that?"
"...I don't know," she repeated, taking a sip. "I, uh, I just... You see, Alexandr Bulatovich, before me and mother entered the Exchange Program, we lived in the forest, far from the city. Back then, I didn't know much about human lifestyle - only the things my father and brother used to-"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Asya," I cut the girl off, prompting her to raise her head and give me a slightly surprised look. "But you have a brother?"
"Oh, uh, yes. A half-brother, from father's previous marriage," Asya clarified, to which I nodded, scratching my chin. Yeah, that made sense.
Well, I asked that out of curiosity, really. Just to clarify something for myself. Since Asya looks like a lamia subspecies, I was curious to know how could she have a brother, since lamias are all female and don't give birth to males.
…Or so they say. If that one article I read on the Internet is correct, male lamias do exist - the chance of one being born is just extremely low and all of them die at a very young age due to a bouquet of genetical disorders... Nature can be really cruel sometimes, let's just leave it at that.
Either way, it's always interesting to learn more about a girl you're going to live with for the next year, that's not what I am trying to do here. I still need to know the reason for Asya's breakdown. We can talk about her family later. When there's a proper moment.
"Let's return to the issue at hand, Asya," I said, waving my hand dismissingly. While I did that, the aspid hanged her head again. At least she didn't look as depressed as she did earlier, which was some progress, if you ask me.
"Well, as I was saying, my father and brother used to tell me and mother a lot about their daily lives; father told about his work, brother - about school and university. It was so interesting, to learn about the human world..." As she was speaking, I noticed a small smile appear on her face and her voice has become dreamy. Those were good memories for her, this much I could tell. And seeing her like that made me happy too. Watching her lips curl happily, her charming eyes, her lovely face with no trace of sadness. Actually, this is nice - simply watching at her as she tells her story.
...No, no, no, I shouldn't think about it. I must not let all this fluffy bullshit meddle with my reasoning. Only one day has passed – I don't know Asya well enough to justify the comforting feelings I'm having. 'Don't judge the book by it's cover,' as they say. And, even if she's really as good as she looks, the fact that she had become this comfortable with me so fast is... odd.
"...And, well, a month ago, when father had finally- A-Alexandr Bulatovich?" Asya was still telling her story, fidgeting with her black hair, but she had stopped as I rose from my seat, prompting her face's expression change from wistful to confused as she looked up at me.
"Well, I think I get the gist of it, Asya," I said, trying not to look at the girl, focusing my stare on the TV opposite of the armchairs. I just felt that if I look at her, I will lose the train of my thought. "You wanted to learn more about the world your father was telling about, but you didn't expect the people here to be so… hostile, right?" I voiced my conclusion.
"Uh, um... You are... correct," was the answer.
"Then I'm going to remind you - even though I said that I won't - that you shouldn't care what the others say. Just ignore it and, well, you already know the rest. Got that?"
"Yes, but... Is something wrong? Your face is red," the girl rose from her seat, moving closer to me, as I took a step back in reaction. With the loud clattering of the countless sets of tableware inside the cupboard I had hit breaking the silence, she extended her hand catiously. Until her black claws were mere centimeters away from my flushed face, I was only able to look around nervously before finally pushing the hand aside.
While I appreciated the intentions behind this action, I just couldn't accept them. Why? I don't know. Perhaps I was afraid to admit that something strange was happening with me. Maybe I couldn't allow myself to get too comfortable. I don't understand.
But I needed to leave. To retreat, before anything weird could happen.
And, after all, I've already done what I Intended. I learned about Asya's worries. So yeah, there was nothing left for me to do. For now.
"N-no, I'm okay, Asya, don't worry. Don't," I assured her, stepping away from both the cupboard and the girl. From the worried look in her eyes I realized that she didn't really buy it, but she didn't press the matter further.
"If you say so," Asya replied, nodding slightly. At that point I was about to leave, but seeing her cheeks go red made me stop. She then lowered her head, looking at me with her blue eyes and fidgeting. "Umm, and thank you," she then whispered, almost too quietly to hear.
"For what?" I asked, tilting my head.
"F-for... F-for talking with me... and for hu..." she spoke, only to gradually go completely quiet as her face got redder and redder with each word that left her mouth. When her cheeks turned deep crimson completly except for the black scales, she covered her face with both scaled hands before erupting in a fit of jumbled chatter, "Thanksforcomfortingme, couldyouwashthismugplease, illgotomyroomiamverysorry."
...
Aaaand she's gone. Slithered away, at the speed I never expected from a snake(-like person) of her size. Left me alone to stand in silence, as I hold both of our mugs. Her own she managed to slip in my hands with her tail in the few seconds she spent thanking me.
And it was me who wanted to run.
"Ha-ha-hau, fucking hell," I cursed after a short burst of uncontrolled cackling. "We are both idiots, aren't we?
"That was really cute, though. Can't deny that," I then said silently as I was washing all the dishes that have accumulated during the past day. A small, but an honestly happy smile crossed my face as I noted the doubled amount of plates lying in the sink.
"What I felt just now, though… I need to think about it..."
"Asya, I'll be out for a while, ok?" Alexandr Bulatovich asked from behind the door. After a few seconds with no answer from me, he added, "Well, I still need to buy the food 'cause we kinda didn't do it before, so I really need to leave. I can't really have you going around with an empty stomach, yeah?"
A muffled 'uhu' was the only thing that I could muster as a reply, as I layed face down on my bed, with my head buried into the pillows. What can I do? I still was too embarrassed to answer my host!
'My host…' I thought, as images of Alexandr Bulatovich started appearing in my mind. He has a build similar to that of my half-brother, maybe a bit higher. His brown hair is short and slightly messy and his posture's slightly hunched. I haven't seen a lot of humans yet, but, even when compared to all the people I've seen so far, I wouldn't call him special.
…Except, maybe, for his eyes. I can't say for sure, but there is something unnatural about them, about their cold, steely color. Seeing them for the first time yesterday, when he was looking over me, made me feel scared. It was as if he could see right through me, down to the deepest parts of me. Even now, after I've spent a night in the same house with him, it was still hard to meet his eyes without a chill going down my back. Maybe if he didn't have such a frown on his face most of the time...
But, even though he didn't look the friendliest, I think that Alexandr Bulatovich is a good person. I felt no ill will from him, and when we went for a walk this morning, he was genuinely pleased with my company. After all, when I could no longer stay calm from all the hostility I was receiving from other people, when I started crying, he came and hugged me. Of course, I didn't expect it and tried to break out of his embrace, but the way he gently held me, his warm arms wrapped around my back and his low, soothing voice… I've only felt this safe when my father used to hug me during the rare times he visited me and mother.
'…Just what is wrong with me?' I wondered as I rolled onto my back, but, due to forgetting to fold my wings, the left one twisted the wrong way, sending a jolt of pain through my back.
"OW!" I shouted, jumping into a sitting position. In that exact moment a crimson blur flew across the room, colliding loudly with a wall. With a gasp of horror I realized that that blur was my suitcase, with all of its contents now lying scattered on the floor and my tail. Toothbrush, collapsible cup, towel, hairbrush, Lego kit – everything has been scattered across the big room. Panicking, I got up from the bed and started hastily picking up the construction set pieces I could see and putting them back in their box, "Oh, please, don't tell me I've lost them! Please, please, please!"
"Hey, what's that noise?! Are you alright?! Do you need my help?!"
"Wha?!" I jumped, caught by surprise by my host's banging on the door, throwing the beams I had in my palm around. "Alexandr Bulatovich?! Didn't you leave?!"
"Uh, only a couple seconds have passed? That's barely enough to reach the stairs."
"O-oh, I s-see," I stuttered, lowering myself back and folding my wings I had spread reflexively. I thought that my host had already gone. But… that's weird how I lost track of time while thinking about him.
...Why do I act like this?
"...Anyway, Asya," Alexandr Bulatovich spoke in a tired voice after a second of silence. "You sound OK, but there's a med kit in the wardrobe, just in case. I'd put a paper there saying what's for what. There's also my number on it. Call me if something happens. Verstehen?"
"Um, uh, yes?" I replied, rising an eyebrow in confusion at the last word he said. Doesn't it mean "understand" or something? I remember hearing it from my brother occasionally, especially when he wanted me to remember something important.
Huh, actually, that's another thing which reminds me of Vitya. Not only looks, but their attitudes were also similar: they might sound grumpy, but are good people nonetheless. Although my brother leaves a more friendly impression, to be honest.
After responding to my host, I heard a 'Gut' come from behind the door, followed by the silent creaking of the floor. After I could no longer hear it, I've returned to collecting my belongings, making sure to look under my tail, since things tend to fall through the gaps between the coils. After a minute, all that was left was a toothbrush I had in hand, wondering if I should put it in the case or bring it to the bathroom. Deciding in favor of the former, I placed the thing in one of the inner pockets of my suitcase and then moved over to the bed.
Lying on it, there was the Lego Technic set I brought along. It was one of my favorites – an orange arctic truck – and I couldn't stop a wide, happy smile from appearing on my face as I looked over the big box. I just love this thing! It's huge, it's got all these moving parts and… and… It's just cool!
"Okay, let's assemble you!" I squealed, jumping onto the mattress and dumping the box's contents near myself.
After 30 minutes or so I was already done with the frame of the truck, along with the tracks. I could've done it faster, but I've messed up a few times, even having to completely disassemble the thing, which I had to do very carefully, because I didn't want to break any of the beams. Again.
But, other than that, I had a lot of fun doing it, although I did have a feeling that I was forgetting something. Something really important.
'Well, I'll remember later. I need to get something to drink first,' I thought dismissively, getting off the bed and stretching my tired arms and wings. Thankfully, the wings did not hurt, so there was no need to use the med kit. Except there was, now that I remembered.
"Oh, right. I need to write down my host's number. Now… where was it, again? Right, the wardrobe." I mumbled, moving over to the furniture in question. The wardrobe itself was huge, maybe a meter taller than me when I'm not specifically elevating myself, and almost as wide as my wingspan. It was made out of beige LDF panels (that's how they are called, right?) with black accents. Looks well-made and it must be quite expensive.
I searched through the empty insides, finding nothing that would look like a med kit. When I opened the leftmost shelf, though, I've found a big blue box with "Почта России" (A/N: Pochta Rossii/Russian post) written all over it. I pulled it out and opened the lid. Inside, there was a heap of tubes and smaller boxes, which, on closer look, proved to be various pills and salves. On top of it all there was a note with a list of those medicines, with their uses described inside the brackets. And, at the very bottom, there was my host's name with a number next to it.
Taking the paper, I closed the box and put it back on the shelf. Having closed the door, I moved back to my bed and took my phone. Flipping it open, I was about to press the asterisk button, but the sudden call have interrupted me. "Who could this be-Oh. Oh, no!" I muttered, the horror of realizing who was calling growing stronger.
How could I forget something so urgent, how?! I was supposed to phone my family right after I've arrived, but a day has already passed since then and now my father's calling me! I'll get chewed out by him, for sure…
The device has kept vibrating as I took a few moments to muster enough resolve to answer. After a deep breath, I pushed the answer button and steeled myself for the inevitable lecture… With one eye closed, I placed the phone near my ear, "H-Hello, d-dad."
"Thank God, you've finally answered. Do you realize how worried we were, my little snake?"
"Y-yes, dad. I'm sorry."
The voice on the other end belonged to father. I've expected him to be angry, but surprisingly, he sounded simply worried rather than anything else… W-well, of course he would be, but he's rather calm – that's what so unexpected to me.
"Anyway, why didn't you call yesterday, Asya?" my father asked, making me shudder since I had no appropriate answer for him. That's because I had no idea why I've forgotten.
"Um-m, I, uh… I don't know?" I managed to squeeze out after a few seconds of deep thought, moving down the stairs. "I guess I was- Wait, what's happening, dad?" When I was in the living room, I've heard some strange noises coming from my father's side, making me stop and look worriedly at the phone in my hand.
"-ait! Wait, Varya! Stay back! Don't grab my-ASYA! DO YOU HEAR ME?!" I heard my father fighting before a booming female voice came out of the phone and straight into my ear. That was my mother, and, unlike father, she sounded really angry.
Honestly, when I've seen that it was my father calling, I had hoped that I won't have to speak to my mother. I knew that she's the one to be worried the most about me, since she trusts no one outside our family. In fact, she was strongly opposed to the idea of me moving away for the cultural exchange, being too afraid that something could happen to me. Of course, I love my mother and I miss her just as much as she misses me, but I absolutely need this program if I to fulfill my dream.
Having recovered from the sudden shout, I replied, though my ears were still ringing, "Y-yes, mom, I hear you, don't wo-"
"Are you okay?! Those humans did nothing to you?! I swear, if they lay a finger on you, I will..!"
"Mom, don't worry! No one did anything to me! Please, calm down!" I pleaded, shouting over mothers words. But they seemed to not reach her, as the fierce speech was still going.
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart! Just wait – I'll come and personally…"
"Okay, that's about enough, honey."
"But, darling! What if…"
"Varya, as much as I understand what you're feeling right now, I'm 100% sure that you're just making a mountain out of a molehill. So give me my phone back and go to the living room."
"But-"
"Go."
"…Okay."
My mother was about to finish, but, thankfully, it seems that my father have intervened and reclaimed the phone. I don't know what could've happened were it not for his ability to stop mother, who can be rather… passionate, especially if the matter concerns my wellbeing. If he was any different, she would've already gone on a rampage trying to bring me back.
After a few moments of awkward silence I heard a dry chuckle from father, indicating that there was nothing to interrupt our talk. "Ha-ha, sorry, sweetheart. You know how much she loves you. She… she just was too excited, is all," he laughed, to which I replied in kind.
"Hah, yes, I know, dad."
"Anyway, how are you doing? Who is your host?" my father asked in his usual, kind tone. In response, I briefly described Alexandr Bulatovich and the events that had happened since my arrival to Bryansk.
…Except for the hug, because, for some reason, it was too embarrassing to even think about it.
While I did so, I got some water to drink in the kitchen and then moved to the hallway on the first floor, for no particular reason. I was in the middle of telling my opinion on my host while looking at the neighboring houses through the window, when I heard some clicking noises come from the vestibule. After a few seconds the door leading there swung open with a loud bang, revealing Alexandr Bulatovich, who had his right leg raised, with bags full of food in each of his hands as well as a backpack. And, for some reason, he appeared to be in high spirits, judging by the goofy expression on his face.
"Honey, I'm motherfucking home!" (A/N: he's yelling it in English) he shouted something in some strange language before lowering the bags on the floor. "Ha-ha, always wanted to say that. Now on to call Asya and… uh…" As he noticed me standing in the hallway, Alexandr Bulatovich's face had instantaneously changed from joyous to the one of realization. "That call… is important, right?" my host asked after a second.
"…Yes."
"I it related to me?"
"…Yes."
For a long moment the hallway was filled with silence. Alexandr Bulatovich's face gone pale, I was still shocked by his sudden appearance and my father, judging by the silence on his hand, was too. My host then, his expression still terrified, grabbed the bags and quickly made his way past me and into the living room, saying something about expecting me to be in the kitchen the moment I'm done. What's weird is that, despite obviously hurrying, he masterfully evaded tripping over my tail, not touching it even once.
"Was that… your host?" my father spoke, still quite flabbergasted.
"Yes, it was," I confirmed in the same manner.
"Is he always like that?"
"No, it's the first time I've seen him act like that."
Frankly, for a moment there I thought that there was something wrong with my host, as it was quite a big difference from how I've thought my host to be. What made him so happy that he would kick open the door?
"Well, this Alexandr of yours sounds like a nice guy, eh?" father asked mockingly after a snicker.
"What? He's not mine!" I fired back, embarrassed by the assumption. Weirdly, having my host being called actually mine was also embarrassing. "But yes, dad, he is a good person," I then in a low voice, not wanting Alexandr Bulatovich to hear.
"And? Do you think you'll like living with him? Just so you know, you'll both have to spend at least a year together. Are you sure you don't want to come back?"
"No, I don't want to. And, while I don't know him that well yet, I think I already like staying with him."
"Hmm, good, your words please me. Well then, be happy together!" father said with a hearty laughter.
"Dad, why do you always-! Oh, he hung up."
With my father's giggling got replaced with beeping of an ended call, I've closed my flip-phone, feeling a vein pop up on my forehead.
Jeez, why do all people I'm comfortable with like to tease me so much! Even Alexandr Bulatovich has done it already!
But, aside from that, I truly mean it when I say that I don't want to come back home. Even though I may still be scared by my host's demeanor, I still want to be his homestay.
With a smile on my face I turned around and moved to the kitchen, curious to know what I was called there for.
A/N: I AM ALIIIIIIVE!
Okay, to keep things short here: Factorio, Serious Sam 2&3, ShellShock Live, TIS-100, Mother Russia Bleeds, university exams and general laziness. Sorry for the long delay.
So, this chapter is also about characterisation - Asya's, primarily. We've learned a bit about how she lived before the Cultural Exchange, her family and what she thinks about the last chapter's events and her host. Let's break it down.
First is her life. She used to live in a forest with her mother with the human side of the family occasionally visititing them. Through those visits she have learned some things about the human lifestyle, but not a whole lot. Also, I think you've noticed that she loves Lego. And yes, I'm being serious here. I think it's safe to say that the majority of female characters will have at least one hobby not widely considered feminine. Well, at least I think that that's the case with Lego. Why I'm doing this? Because I want it to be so.
Second are our heroes' feelings about each other. While there's already something going on in their heads, I would not say that this is any "love". You see, I don't want it to go like "here's a man, here's a woman, they've only met each other but they already want to fuck". I think that I've made it obvious enough in the story, but I'll put it more bluntly here, just in case: Sasha is trying to keep whatever feelings he has from going any further, while Asya just trusts her host more. That's it, nothing more.
And one little extra thing. The families of our heroes will be relevant, to one extent or another, so no absent-for-no-reason parents here.
Umm, yeah, I think that's- oh, yeah. Is anyone here willing to help me a little with the story? You know, just standart beta-reader stuff: spellchecking, coming up with different ways to phrase bits of text (this part is important), suggesting ideas. Well, it's no secret that I'm a really slow writer, but your help could make things better!
...Maybe. Anyway, PM me if you're interested.
And that's about it, folks. As per usual, leave your reviews, suggestions, criticism and whatnot. Thanks for reading, this was ChillingComrade, who, ironically, is getting chilly. Although it's not that cold in Bryansk right now; -10 Celsius at most.
До встречи!
