Chapter 9: Don't worry about it, okay?

"The woman, the myth, the legend!" Shirai waves a blood-soaked glove at us as we go inside. "You must be Mirka. Lena told me all about you. Don't do anything shitty to her again, or I'll have to demonstrate that I never took the Hippocratic oath." He twirls a scalpel around in his fingers, staring Mirka down with an infectious smile. As soon as she looks away, he goes back to working while humming.

Mirka grabs my hand for support. I know Shirai can be unsettling, but I've never seen him actually threaten someone. He's always been good at intimidating the less than polite people who use his clinic, but right now, I see him as my personal defender.

"Anyway," Shirai says, "I'm really happy to meet you. Give me five and I'll meet you in the break room. Oh, Lena, introduce her to Melo for me?"

Mirka dry swallows. "Who's Melo? A pet?"

Shirai shoots us an annoyed look that I can tell is more directed at me than at Mirka. "Melo's my girlfriend, actually. Ack, I can't think about her when working, it makes me lose focus. You two need to stop distracting me."

He playfully throws his thumb back, returning to his patient as I take Mirka down the hall.

She sighs in exasperation once we're out of earshot. "You know, the cops are looking for an underground doctor."

"Well, duh. I know you better than to make an identical mistake with my best friend, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm just saying, its kind of funny how quickly my life flipped around." I hold open the door to the break room, and Mirka looks around, eyes lingering on the glass tank for a moment.

"Maybe she's in the bathroom?"

Melo doesn't respond. I wink at her. "Nope, she's here." I stand next to the tall tank. "This is Shirai's girlfriend, Melo. She's a colony of algae."

Mirka bursts out laughing, until she sees how serious I'm being. "Wait. Really..?"

"Sorry, Melo. She's being rude." Still, Melo doesn't respond.

"Is Shirai just delusional? That's honestly really sad."

"No, Melo's actually sapient. Right, Melo?"

The algae remains inert, attached to the chunk of ice on the surface. Mirka looks at me in concern too. "Shirai isn't here, you don't have to play along..."

I understand what she's doing now. Melo is one of the funnier people I know. "Okay, okay, I deserve this for not explaining ahead of time. Seriously though, Melo. I want you to meet Mirka. Mirka, Melo is the one who convinced me to keep an open mind about you. Realistically? I probably would have rejected you if it weren't for the algae in this tank."

Mirka blinks a few times. "What?"

Melo finally replies, every strand independently flickering across its length in reds, yellows, and oranges.

To translate, she's laughing.

Mirka walks forward to the tank in confusion, glancing at me.

"Jesus, Mirka, she doesn't bite," I say, taking her hand and pulling her a bit closer.

Melo replies with an orange bust of light. Mirka again looks to me for a translation.

"Yellow flash means yes, orange flash means no, three yellow horizontal bars followed by two orange and a final yellow is Shirai. Oh, and the last name I used was green, orange, orange, green, yellow, red. That's kind of all I've put together."

Melo replies with my old name, followed by an orange burst, then another series of horizontal bars followed by a yellow burst.

"Sorry, can you say that slower?"

Melo repeats my name.

"Red, green, yellow, orange, green, yellow. Got it. That's kind of pretty, honestly."

A particularly bright yellow flash feeds my ego. I smirk at Mirka, who is barely following the conversation.

"How about Mirka?" I ask. Melo responds with red, red, green, red, yellow, red. Much less pretty, but I'm not going to tell her that.

Fortunately for Mirka, Shirai comes through the doorway, closing the door behind him and flopping into his usual seat. "Melo, you wouldn't believe the day I've had. That last guy was shot twice in the exact same spot. Literally, first one gets lodged in his femur, second one follows the exact same path, splinters the first one... ugh."

Mirka watches the two of them talk for a moment as I find a spot in the corner of the sectional, patting the space to my left. My lovely girlfriend sits down next to me, trying her damndest to pretend this is normal.

"As an MBR agent, I'm sure you've seen a lot of files on magical flora. Isn't Melo particularly beautiful, though?" Shirai asks, smiling at Mirka. I can detect a hint of judgement in his eyes. He's evaluating her response.

"To be honest, yeah. I'm kind of impressed she doesn't get her strands tangled together."

Shirai pauses for a moment. "What do you think, Melo?"

She replies with a solid yellow.

"Well, if Melo and Lena like you, then I guess I do to. Nice to have you here, Mirka." He's no longer defensive, and back to his usual self. "So I've heard Lena's version of events, but now I want to hear the insane story of how you two got together from you. Our favorite spheroid has a tendency to exaggerate."

"I do not! Don't listen to him. He's a liar."

Melo laughs again, to which Shirai happily pats her tank.

I hold Mirka's hand in mine. She starts telling the story, and she gets more comfortable as it goes on. Shirai keeps shooting me approving glances as she speaks. It's a huge relief. I don't know what I'd do if Shirai didn't like her.

Melo seems engaged, too, as if she isn't bothered at all by her being MBR. Maybe I'm being irrational about MBR as a whole. Not likely, but maybe...

I take out my journal as we talk, writing down a couple new observations as Shirai and Mirka grin at each other, talking about their respective additions to my journal.

#47 I care significantly about what Shirai thinks of me and people I'm close to. He's like an older brother.

#48 I joke about others, and enjoy jokes at my own expense in turn.

A tiny drop of water falls on top of the little composition book. I look up to see Shirai backing away with a syringe in hand. "Lena, Melo wanted to add her own signature to your journal, soooo I just took a little bit of water from her tank. Don't kill me, please?"

I look down at the tiny water stain, ever so slightly distorting the letter 'y' in 'enjoy' with radiating trails of running ink. "You could have just asked, you know. I'd have said yes."

"Sure, but where's the fun in that?"

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I finish setting up the group chat, nodding to myself.

You renamed the chat to 'Body Artists'

L: Okay, this is everyone who wanted in on this.

C: I have a weak stomach so I'm just gonna bring snacks.

A: Thanks to everyone! I really can't thank you all enough!

M: I have a weak stomach too lol

C: Excited to meet you, too. Apparently I can't punch you but Lena already did that so.

N/A: "Punched" is an understatement. Anyway, hi, Lena and Mirka know me. I'm the guy whose place we're going to use for this.

L: Everything looks good. I have most of the components individually made. I'll send our nameless benefactor's address.

I send over Shirai's address. Everything is set. Time to get Frankensteining.

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"Lava is what it's called when its still in space. After it breaks through the atmosphere, it's called magma."

"Please stop, Lena." Mirka looks at me in agony as we step into Shirai's surgery.

"Did you know that Meteor was the doctor, and his creation is Meteor's Meteorite?"

"What does that even mean?" She looks like she'd ready to quit before we even start.

"If I get all the dumb stuff in my mind out, I can focus on the less dumb stuff. Hey, Shirai! It's been what, twenty-four hours?"

He nods, waving us over to another room. I forgot he had a second operating theater, and it has been completely cleared away for us, other than having moved Melo's tank into the room. He doesn't talk until he closes the door. Amber and Casey are already here, chatting. They go silent as Mirka awkwardly waves.

"Okay, I'll lead introductions! I'm Shirai, I'm an unlicensed doctor. In the corner is my girlfriend Melo, she's here for morale."

Melo flashes three bars of color. Amber and Casey exchange a look, but Shirai doesn't feel the need to explain. "Melo, these are Amber and Casey. Amber's the one using the body we're making, Casey is... I don't actually know."

They snort. "I'm just here because my friends are, and I can probably avoid puking for a little bit."

Shirai gives a thumbs up. "Finally, we have the prodigal cop Mirka, who is not going to get me arrested because that's not an MBR agent's job. As a reminder, since she's not a cop anymore, there's no laws against assaulting her."

Casey leers at Mirka, while Amber is barely paying attention to him.

Mirka looks a little nervous, so I intervene. "I'm going to be spending a lot of time without a shell beyond Amber's, which isn't exactly functional at the moment, and Mirka makes me feel better when I'm exposed like that. Anyway, let's get this going!"

As skilled as I am with shaping organic matter, creating new bodies from scratch is a tall task. It requires exact and precise measurements in a three dimensional space that I can't physically manipulate beyond composing and decomposing. If I need to lift a flap of skin, for example, I have to decompose it entirely and recompose it after. It's far, far more efficient to get a rough approximation of the final body by literally stapling or sewing together tissues and working over the details after.

I retract into my core, sending out Amber's body as it is. By the time I'm back as Lena, there's a frantic series of murmurs.

"You couldn't have put underwear on it?!" Amber asks, panicked.

"For what?"

"If it's supposed to be my body, then you're basically showing everyone what I look like naked!"

"We are literally here to chop this thing up like we're butchering a pig. How is that less intimate? We're literally seeing what's beneath your skin."

"Aaaaand there's the sociopathy." Casey smirks at me, which I ignore.

I produce a couple towels from my void and cover it. "If it makes you feel better, I can get naked too."

Mirka's glare is lethal. Casey's is less so.

I start producing a few inert organs, laying them out on the ground. "Once we have everything secured in its proper place, I can run some tests and arrange it all. Sound good?"

There's a few disgruntled murmurs between Casey and Amber about the nudity thing, while Melo is in the corner laughing at us.

I'm going through a lot of hassle entirely selflessly, and no one seems very appreciative. I'd be annoyed, I think, if this wasn't how Casey and Amber were all the time. "You're all ridiculous. Okay, Amber, show me where you want the ulnar nerve rerouted..."

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Six hours in. The room is bloodbath. I'm nearly out of material. Casey's puked twice. Everything smells like iron and sulphur.

Not as bad as the first time I did this, though. So many hands made light work, thankfully.

"I'm going to take it from here for a while, since I need to solidify a few things. Give me... I dunno, a couple hours. Okay?"

I hear a groan from Casey, to which Amber flips them off.

"Mirka, I need a lot of focus for this. Try not to lose track of me." I wink, and retreat into my shell before slowly absorbing and decomposing Amber's new body. I should have just enough material to tweak everything. Once fully encoded and decomposed, I float up slightly, and feel a pair of hands gently surround me.

I have no idea what's wrong with me, but being enveloped by Mirka's gentle hands might be my new favorite feeling.

All around me, in a flash, I sense water raining down. Mirka is doing her best to shield me from it, but I know its just Shirai cleaning everyone off with the fire sprinkler before they track blood through his surgery. He's done it to me a dozen times.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Right, I need to focus. Back to the vertebrae. She didn't make this easy on me with the sheer number of modifications, but the design is logical, and shouldn't have half as many problems as a half-assed shell would.

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I can tell everyone is sitting, and Mirka is occasionally talking, laughing, and smiling. Mirka even held a piece of pizza to me at one point, which actually helped me with materials, and elicited an amused clapping from the others for our impromptu magic trick. Seeing all my friends getting along makes me feel even cozier as I finish layering skin over muscle and nerves. Finally, trial run one can start.

I push gently against Mirka's hands, and she lets go, excited about my drifting to the center of the room. With the usual gory display of flesh, I'm in the break room, and everyone is staring expectantly at me.

"So far, so good..." I say, taking a cautious step forward in Amber's shell. "Yeah, this- oh, I-" I feel blood start to leak from from my eyes as as I retract it again. Right, stronger heart muscles means I need to reinforce the veins in the eyes, too...

A quick fix, and I'm back out. "I'm going to wear this shell for a day, and see if anything goes wrong. If everything goes well, this should be good for Amber to mimic when I'm done. I'll see you all later."

Casey jolts up, instantly annoyed. "What the hell? You made us wait for two hours just so you could tell us to go home? Why?"

"It's simple. I wanted you all to get to know Mirka, and I'm a bastard. Goodbye, everyone!"

Before Casey can gather their thoughts enough to protest, I retreat back into my core. Soon, Mirka is holding me again, and I sense the world moving as she takes me back to the car.

She releases me next to the passenger seat, and before I can extend my shell again, she pulls away from the curbside parking. I'm slammed into the back window, as she hits the brakes and throws me forward into the dash. I take my raven form for the sake of being bound by gravity, and hear her apologize furiously while driving. I simply squawk and hold on to the car seat.

When we finally get to my apartment's parking lot, I shift back into Lena, Mirka immediately coming around the car and apologizing profusely. I hold up a hand, which seems to be uniquely effective at making her stop taking.

"Don't worry about it, okay?"

"You were thrown into the back window of my car!" she exclaims, looking me over for injury despite it not making any logical sense.

"Technically, the back window hit me. I didn't move. Also, I don't feel pain." I take her hand. "I have a lot of work to do tonight. Still hungry?"

A deep frown settles along her face. "That's all? You're not upset? I would be upset if you bonked me like that..."

"It was an accident, it was funny, and I wasn't hurt. Seriously, I'm not upset."

Now that I think about it, I don't think I get offended outside of betraying trust. I've never really minded rude people unless they get in my way, and I don't feel hurt when I'm called a monster or whatever. There's a slight distinction for when someone I care about is trying to hurt me, but that's more about intent than the actual words.

Mirka lets me lead her by the hand to my apartment, and once we're inside, I shift into Amber. "How do I look?"

"I'm not answering that. I sense a trap."

"Nahhh. I'm proud of this one, too. Lena isn't my first identity, you know, so don't feel weird about complimenting any shell I use." I flex my arms a bit as I start assembling an old shell of mine within the void, so routine I don't need much concentration.

"This is weird, talking to my girlfriend who looks and sounds like a different friend of mine..." She meanders to the kitchen, taking a few glass bottles I didn't buy from a cabinet and starting to make some kind of drink. "So what other identities did you have?"

Now's as good a time as any to explain about the first person I met. It's a grim story, though, and requires absolute clarity. "Okay, don't be mad..."

She scrunches her face like she took a massive chomp from a lemon. "What a great way to start the conversation."

"Yeah... Okay, so my first identity, if you can call it that, didn't have a name beyond 'the orb' or 'my pet'. I didn't even have a set shell then. Just locked away in a room for five years, given something to duplicate, and given just enough material to do so."

"...fucking hell." She slumps against the counter. "Starting to see why you're the way you are, if that was your childhood."

My expressions are unchanging. Right, I don't have the appendage link to translate my emotions in Amber's shell. "If I were human, that'd be a very unkind thing to say."

"You aren't human, though, and I'm trying to communicate with you in your own language. For example, I made you a drink." She displays a shot glass. "Use your Lena shell, though."

I swap to it on her request. I don't mind telling the story in the shell she's used to seeing. "Not big on alcohol, but why the hell not?" I take the shot glass, drinking it in one go so as not to be rude.

Huh.

There's no alcohol in here. I pour a straggling drop onto my tongue. This is actually nice. Pleasurable, even, not just the basic biological signals reacting to nutrients. I knew my shells had a sense of taste, but didn't think I could really enjoy it besides basics like minty or sweet. "What the hell, can I have more?"

She makes a full glass for me, as I watch in intrigue. A generous amount of vanilla extract, a ton of a minty cocktail syrup, some water, less raw sugar than I'd expect, and everything mixed together with a peppermint stick. A simple recipe, but a really complex flavor for me.

"That's it?" I take the glass, sipping it. It's fairly thick from all the syrup, like melted ice cream in consistency, but stickier.

"Yep. That's it. If I were to drink that, I'd probably puke on the spot, but I could lean into what you liked: mint. Added some vanilla to make it a bit different than usual, and sugar of course."

I nod as I savor another mouthful, swallowing it as my shell starts to salivate. "Yeah. This is incredible. It's like I've discovered a new hobby or something. I'm starting to understand why humans get weird about food."

She comes over to hug me, and reflexively I pull the drink away to keep her from taking it. Before I can apologize for the instinctive response, she laughs and hugs my shell. "Glad you like it, Lena."

I hug her back with one arm, the other focused on bringing the glass to my mouth. "I really do. Oh, right, other identities. I had my first personal shell called Justice I used to leave and kill the monster that kept me captive-"

She breaks away from the hug, folding her arms. "Woah, it was a monster that kept you locked away?"

"Yeah. Biologically human, but not a person as far as I'm concerned."

"...I'm not going to do anything stupid, but how many biological humans have you killed?"

"Uhh... four or five? Maybe six, but I think I missed that one's vitals."

I recognize the look in her eyes. I really, really wish I didn't. She replies after a long period of silence, and eventually the anguished fear fades from her eyes. I think I'm more relieved than she is. "I'll wait for the explanation. I learned my lesson."

"Thank you, glad we're on the same page about that. The thing that captured me was a magician who got wayyyy too much exposure to raw magic, and was brain-razed to hell. Weirdly, it never seemed to physically mutate, just went absolutely batshit. Had a small army of thralls, too, and he seemed to be constantly flipping between being angry I couldn't be enthralled, and treating me like an exotic pet. Very annoying. Took me like five years of slowly, methodically saving an ounce of metal here, a few grams of biological material there... eventually, I was able to to build mostly hollow shell based on the DNA of a loose hair I found. Managed to get a lucky stab into one of the thrall's necks while I was being given something to duplicate, decomposed his body, and took him place. Thralls are perfectly loyal, so I placed myself barely attached to the palm of the shell, to make it look like I was being carried. Got close, stab stab stab, dead brain-razed beast. The thralls didn't break free, though, and I wasn't going to let myself be killed by a bunch of half-emaciated mindless goons. Didn't learn until later I couldn't be killed by conventional means."

I take another long sip of the drink, examining Mirka's expression. She looks... a little disturbed, but more worried about me than about the former people I killed. Fair enough.

"I called that shell 'Justice' and wore it for years. So, any comments?" I ask with an amused smile. Truthfully, those were by far the worst years of my life, but no emotions last forever with me, even the worst ones. I'm hardly traumatized, though I have a healthy respect of enclosed spaces now. I also try not to let myself be kept in a room without some kind of escape plan, since the idea of being trapped again does scare me. Fortunately for me, I learned how to make nitroglycerin, so I always have that as an option now. I also have a healthy fear of being used, even by people who I consider to be my friends...

Actually, I think I am traumatized.

"No... I'm sorry you went through that." She looks like she's about to cry on my behalf.

I grab her shoulder with my free hand, finishing the rest of my drink before playfully shaking her. "If it makes you feel better, I got over it. Mostly. I disassociated through a lot of it."

"That doesn't make me feel better at all!"

"Sorry. So Justice was that first one, then I was some dead guy named Shawn for a few years when I was with Shirai. After that identity was outed, I went by Trevor. Lena is actually my first daily female shell."

There's a lingering horrified expression, but she lets me change the subject. "Wait, really? I assumed you would have always picked a girl. Am... am I using the right pronouns, even?"

"Yeah, for now, at least. Check again on my next shell. I admittedly really like this one, but who knows what my opinion will be in five years?"

"...huh. Okay. That could be fun for me too, actually."

That's also a relief. I probably could have guessed that she was pan or bi or whatever. She was interested in dating a floating black sphere, after all, so I doubt she has preferences on gender.

#49 I think I might be somewhat traumatized by my earliest experiences.

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Amber's shell isn't the same as mine. She had me make it less strong than my own to avoid the learning curve, it has an entirely functional digestive system, and there are a few small quirks like wanting specifically AB+ blood, being taller by two inches than she was before, and notably, I had to simulate the age of the shell being around 35 instead of my default of mid 20s. I have to test every system before handing it off, and spend the night doing so, occasionally taking breaks to watch Mirka sleep. It's not creepy if we're dating, right?

Sleep has always been a curiosity for me. Deep meditation can simulate it, to some extent, but I always remain aware and able to leave the meditation at will. Spending a third of a life without control is a scary thought, and one I don't particularly enjoy. Still, sleeping is so universally human I've always wanted to try it at least once.

Around four AM, I take the shell for a walk, enjoying the neighborhood at night as I start making a list of materials I need for more medication today. As always, its boron. That means a trip to the hardware store. I can only imagine what they must think of me there when I buy borax and boric acid in bulk. If I'm lucky, they'll think I'm a laundromat operator with a roach problem.

I enter Sleepless Days, which has rapidly become my favorite place to be at night. It's just Kemp and Nene here at the moment. I take a seat at the counter, smiling at Nene.

"The usual?" He winks at me.

Right, I'm in Amber's shell. I don't usually mimic a specific person like this, so this is a rare opportunity. I didn't plan for this, but I do need to test how it appears to others. It's very easy for shells to fall headfirst into the uncanny valley. "Yeah." I have no idea what "the usual" is, but I'm keen to find out.

He glances around, setting down a small brown baggie for me. "Seventy today."

I'm intrigued. I take seventy bucks out, and pay the man. Nene nods, sticking it in his back pocket. "You doing good, Am? How's your super secret project coming?"

"It's going good. You'll love it."

"I'll bet, though I happen to love everyone you pick. We on for later?"

Goddamn. This is some juicy gossip. Obviously, I'm not going to tell anyone, but when life gives you lemons... "I dunno yet."

"Entirely your decision, don't feel compelled."

"Uh-huh..." I take a look inside the bag. It's an absurd amount of weed. I'm admittedly relieved its not something harder. "Who do you want me to be next?"

He smiles radiantly. "You almost never let me pick. I'm torn between the new girl and that one guy from the show with the dragons we're watching. You know, the brother of the girl?"

Wow. That leaves me feeling either flattered or gross. Still, I should definitely stop now before it gets any more personal. "What's the phrase? No substitute for the genuine article?" I shift into Lena, savoring his mix of anger, confusion, and disgust.

He stands completely stunned for a moment. "You... fuck."

"Pass. I'm just test running Amber's new body."

He closes his eyes, counting backwards from ten before speaking again. "That is really fucked up, new girl. That wasn't a conversation meant for you."

I shift back to Amber. "Had to test if it was convincing, sue me. Can I have my money back? Smoking doesn't... actually, I should probably make sure this shell can get high if Amber's into that. Maybe I could even change the tolerance, with her permission, of course." I sniff the bag. "By the way, can you take the best weed in here and roll a joint for me? I'd like to add it to my library of objects I can produce."

He isn't amused. "You piss me off, new girl. Every time you do something shitty, you try and balance it out with something good. I'm not playing that game, you got that? Just don't be shitty! It's not hard." He takes some of the plant from the paper bag, and starts rolling a joint for me.

I tilt Amber's shell's head slightly, frowning. "You're really hurting my feelings, Nene..."

"That's so fucked up. Isn't there some kind of shapeshifter code to not be a manipulative bastard with it?" He hands me the joint, which I start decomposing.

"If there was, I didn't get the memo. Neither did you, considering how creepy it is that you want Amber to look like me. And for the record, it actually is hard for me to not be shitty. I don't have that little voice that tells me what is or isn't immoral. Still, I'm sorry."

"That's not much comfort. Just don't do that shit again. I can't spend every day second guessing who's actually you in disguise."

I shrug. "Whatever you say, arch-enemy."

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Yep, the shell reacts to marijuana like normal. No surprise there. Now all I have to do is deliver it to Amber after work. I quickly switch to my Lena shell so I can clear the intoxicants from Amber's body, and once complete, I return to being Amber.

As I walk through the doors of the soup kitchen and into the back, I see Kapil already hard at work at seven AM. He does a double take when seeing me. "I'm sorry, but we don't open for breakfast until eight. Were the doors unlocked, miss?"

I jingle my keys, before setting down a half dozen insulin cartridges I made ahead of time.

"Are you Lena's friend?" He leans in to observe me, trying to piece it together.

"I'm Lena herself, just borrowing someone else for the day. Long story. By the way, my girlfriend will be here later today. She doesn't know what I do for work yet."

"...borrowing someone else?"

I roll my eyes. "Trust me, its fine. I'm kind of like a shapeshifter. Anyway, when Mirka gets here, be sure to lie your ass off about how good of an employee I am."

"So much for trust."

He laughs. I don't.

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It's only 9 AM when Mirka hesitantly opens the door to the kitchen, almost closing it before remembering I'm in Amber clad at the moment. She comes over and shares a hug with me, before introducing herself to Kapil, and looking around.

"So why a soup kitchen? You can't cook." Mirka looks around the kitchen, and at me leaning casually against a wall.

"Oh, I can cook. Just not food. Wink wink."

Mirka turns to Kapil, who points to a small pile of prescriptions on the table next to me. Mirka takes a look through them. I've expanded even further, now making individual prescriptions here and there. At this point, it actually is a full time job. I'm spending maybe eight or nine hours a day at least partly paying attention to making all these medications and gathering the required components.

I admit, the novelty is wearing off, and its becoming work again. I may give up on it soon, or at least dial back the scale... Then again, I do like it here. No point in rocking a stable boat.

Mirka looks through the unlabelled medication next to me. "...these aren't narcotics. These are just prescriptions. Why are you making actual medicine?"

"Because poor people still need their meds, obviously."

Mirka turns her head to Kapil, who shrugs in response. She turns back to me. "Isn't that boring?"

"Yeah, I guess. When I get bored, I usually annoy Kapil or take a walk. It's not like I need to be here, after all, I simply like the depressing ambiance and the smell of deprivation." She's clearly trying to get at something else through these questions.

"How much do you charge people for these?" She holds a pill bottle to the light, looking at the blue tablets within.

Kapil answers for me. "They're free."

With care, Mirka sets down the pill bottle and finally makes her point directly. "Lena, you do a lot of kind things for someone who claims to be completely self-centered."

"I'm doing it because I look like I'm being kind and generous. Which, in turn, makes me a better person in the eyes of others. Making all this medication and giving it away free of charge is actually entirely self-interested. I want to be around interesting people, and people like me me more if I'm kind. It's not complicated."

Mirka huffs out a single 'heh'. "You never told me about it until now, though. If this were a scheme to make me like you more, why wouldn't you talk about it?"

Strangely enough, her questioning makes me feel a bit of pride in what I'm doing. I still don't particularly care about the people who use the medicine I'm making, but Mirka thinks I'm being selfless. I suppose she's right, to some extent. What do I say to her, though, to temper her expectations?

"I dunno," is the best I could come up with.

Mirka's ensuing smirk is a little too smug for someone with her arm in a sling.

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Walking into Sleepless Days in Amber's new body while the real Amber watches me is a joy. I considering recording the reaction on video, but it might be funnier to watch this firsthand without the backup of a camera. I watch her body ever so slightly distort, gaining a bit of height, slightly less pallid skin, and looking slightly older, but otherwise she looks the same as always. She's immediately thanking me over and over, bouncing on her toes, looking over every little detail I added. It's a very rewarding sight, seeing how grateful she is to me, and how much she likes it.

I feel like an artist who finally found someone who appreciates their work on the same level as them. It's a uniquely lovely feeling. If I had to guess, this would be close to what actual accomplishment feels like.

More importantly, it means I'm done with the project. Now that I have Mirka, I want to have as much free time as I can to spend with her. I even have the first official date with Mirka tonight at my apartment, so I cut Amber's overexcited praise short to return to my car. We're watching a movie tonight that she was excited to show me, and unbeknownst to her, I lied and said I hadn't seen the movie before. A truly diabolical scheme.

I think Mirka is affecting my mental state. I take out my journal as I sit in the driver's seat. Page after page of notes about myself, and I was saving the 50th entry for something truly impactful. I have to write small, really exercising my fine motor control, but I don't want to summarize something this important.

#50 I believe I've fallen in love before the first date. She makes me consistently happy in a way I'm not used to experiencing. Usually, I get enjoyment through putting myself into exciting situations. With her, though, there's a quiet comfort that I would kill for. I don't have to worry about tempering my every word, or overanalyzing the things I say. I can simply be, and no matter what shell I'm using, I know she sees what's beneath the surface.