Pale Blue Dot - volume 4 - The eyes 4.2
Imported from SF2 with no description.
“I guess that's it, then.” I placed the dust collector back in its spot, tied off the last bag of trash, and tossed it into the wall's waste disposal chute.
The room hadn't really changed much, considering neither of us were the type to keep many things. Sharing a room for six years—that probably counts as some sort of achievement, doesn't it?
“My flight’s in two hours,” he said as he walked back to me after seeing off the moving company staff. “So, I guess this is it.”
I thought I'd feel something more dramatic, or maybe a little sad, but I was actually quite calm. A lot had happened in those six years, and I'd gone through so many unexpected changes and experiences. Rather than some vague notion of “maturity,” I think the real reason was the promise of seeing each other again.
I extended my right hand, intending to make it a formal farewell. Unexpectedly, he pulled me into a hug, patting me on the back. I didn't want him to think it was too weird, but because it was so sudden, I froze up, not knowing how to react.
That damn musky scent was still as strong as ever.
“Take care,” he said as he stepped back, picking up his remaining luggage to leave.
“Hey,” I called out to him from behind, making a decision on the spot. “Wait.”
He turned around, tilting his head in a way that made him look puzzled. Ha, maybe he'd lived with me for too long—he was starting to act like a wolf. Or maybe he learned the body language on purpose to communicate with me? I'd never really thought about it before.
“This might be a strange request…” I tried to suppress the awkwardness rising inside me, as well as the blood rushing to my ears. “But…” I took a small, deep breath, not wanting to drag it out any longer. “I want to see what you look like.”
His response was a hearty laugh. He put down his luggage and shrugged at me.
I took another deep breath, steadying my slightly trembling hands as I removed my goggles, lifting my head to find a rough angle where I could meet his gaze. I expanded my awareness, letting my senses extend outward. The vibrations of the surrounding objects began to reveal themselves, sketching out the shape of the world.
To me, the world is made up of pure vibrations and waveforms, but only living things have a special kind of oscillation. Because these waves always pulse around the individual, I call them “aura.” The aura is different from the host’s own vibrations, though I'm not entirely sure why—maybe the former is the breath of life, and the latter is proof of existence?
I’ve never figured out the answer, but I suppose I could ponder that later—whenever I get the time to contemplate unsolvable mysteries.
His form gradually took shape in my sight, composed of the complex waveforms emanating from the red deer. That aura, pulsing steadily, was as friendly and humorous as the host himself.
“Wow, your eyes are red! I've never seen that color before,” he said with a laugh, his surprise and joy spreading outward in irregular, enclosed waves. “It reminds me of the red sands of Ares,” he added in a somewhat detached tone, taking a step closer, though I didn't move. He gently cupped the side of my face, leaning his head toward mine.
The strong scent of musk surrounded me.