A quick note: a little bit into the work, I use the neopronoun xe/xir for one character. The pronouns function the same as she/her, he/him, respectively. You can check out this article for a further explanation!
Photo by Osman Rana on Unsplash.
Now, the story.
The world tilts as Seoul removes the knife from their thigh. The muscles knit themselves, albeit slightly slower than usual, back together. Gradually, the world rights itself. Seoul’s breath echoes in their head as they take inventory of their surroundings:
It was a dingy alleyway with two large dustbins next to square steel doors. They can smell every neglected poison this planet calls food, but it was not past use – by their standards.
No human heartbeat, just the scurrying sounds of rats along the walls. The wheels against the wet road remind Seoul of the ocean slapping the shore.
Seoul’s head clears enough to remember it’s raining.
No stars in this sky. No wonder these beings believe themselves to be alone. When one can’t see the stars, one feels much more important.
Their stomach turns in on itself. Part disgust, part painful hunger.
Seoul remembers the humans, whittling away on the street with eyes that stared into one’s soul and called it into question. Interestingly, the ‘superior’ wealthier beings in their elaborate cloths bowed their heads and quickened their steps.
Remembering the walk, Seoul remembers the knife, remembers the dirty fingernails that rifled through their pockets.
No humans are to be harmed. Human police are ineffective, but their media is a bloodhound: one confirmation of beyond and they will flock, the chief’s voice reiterates at the back of Seoul’s head.
It was Seoul’s third night on Earth. The third night they’ll find a damp corner as a refuge. The briefing before they were ejected was, well, brief: All these humans survive solely on the value they put on colourful paper with themselves imprinted on. Lucky for Seoul, the miserable excuse for life who had kindly gifted them with the dirty knife that presently lay on the ground had stolen all the money Seoul carried on their person.
Four rats emerge to see the thing encroaching on their domain. Seoul, accustomed to this ritual, bares their teeth and lets their growl fill the alley. The rats scurry back to their poison.
The scavenging creatures remind them of Liol; xe was a scavenger as well, reaping rewards after all the work was done. Hopefully, xe stole away to one of the better planets out there; Earth probably never entered xir mind because it had little value. As deplorable as Earth was, at least they were alone.
So, that was Seoul.
Alone.
Panic starts crawling up their chest, but Seoul inhales deeply and looks to the sky. But they cannot ground themselves with no stars. With no proof that this mission is worth something. Breaths heave themselves out of their chest and all of Seoul’s training is useless.
Panic in battle kills faster than a shot.
So alone on a planet that didn’t even seem to care about its own inhabitants.
The chief had looked all of the sacrifices in the eye: Magda is no longer your home. The planet you find is.
Usually, Seoul resisted feelings of hopelessness; all it did was fasten an irremovable shroud of melancholy onto one’s shoulders.
But, at that thought, a sob escapes, right in the dirty corner that’s home for the night.
Their body rattles, the strength of the past few days draining out of the now-closed wound. Their hands pull at the little hair on their scalp, wanting the pain to draw them out of this moment, but the stench of decay and wet ground keeps them there. Their wiry brown fingers curl into fists that dig into their lap– before desperation made them pull strands out.
Little had Seoul known, the brown skin would also work against them.
Too many things work against Seoul on this sick planet.
“Everything good?”
Panic in battle kills faster than a shot.
Seoul chokes the hopelessness and stores it for another day because they will forget not hurting humans if it means they see tomorrow.
Seoul opened their eyes.
A human.
It still confuses Seoul how humans categorise each other, but Seoul assesses the person and decides it’s a man.
“Are you okay, man?” The human approaches Seoul slowly, as if afraid of Seoul. No, as if not frighten Seoul, like they were a skittish animal.
“I am not a man.” Without Seoul’s permission, their voice cracks.
“Oh,” the human’s face falls, his eyes becoming larger, “are you – sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed… Do I call you she?”
“No.”
The human was about to say something likely equally stupid. Seoul sighs, “Seoul. My name. I think it’s S-E-O-U-L in your tongue.”
“Seoul like Korea? Anyway, nice to meet you. Eh, I’m Daniel.”
Seoul scans the human’s outreached hand. Satisfied it’s empty, they ask, “You are a man?”
He drops his hand. “Yeah.”
“And what do I look like?”
“I thought you were a guy, I guess.”
“What made you think that?”
“Just– short hair, built like a guy who works out, didn’t see any boobs.”
“That’s how you all categorise each other?” Seoul’s laughter bounces off the walls. “Of course.”
Seoul considers the human, Daniel. A small human – or smaller than Seoul at least – who seems cleaner than Seoul, but smells like too many things to name.
“Do you have a private residence?”
He nods.
“May I stay there?”
“My boyfriend might not be cool with that. I can get you to a shelter and they can help you out.”
Seoul stood up, wound healed. They wipe their hands on their thighs, getting most of the blood off their hands. This makes Daniel’s eyes even larger. He takes a step back.
The humans corral one another. It makes them easier to eradicate. Some are trustworthy, according to official reports we’ve obtained, but many hide different vices. Avoid them if possible.
“I will not go to a shelter. I’ll find my way around.”
Seoul walks past Daniel, looking out into the street, cars creeping by.
(Seoul was yet to see a vehicle that moved at real speed on Earth.)
“Do you want some cash? For some… clean clothes.”
“Yes. I suppose that would be appropriate and ease your soul when you walk away. I’ll have whatever you can spare.”
Daniel’s face hardens, “Hey, I’m doing the best I can.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Daniel places three pink notes into their hand, “Should get you clothes from the Pep around the corner and something to eat around here.”
“Understood.” With a curt nod, Seoul turns around and walks away from that alley. Their leg is sensitive, but Daniel’s eyes are still on them. They can limp around the next corner.
“No, wait,” Daniel’s footsteps rush after them, “there’s karma for this type of shit.” He bows his head and sighs, as if resigning himself to punishment, “my place is around the corner. You can sleep there for tonight.”
The thought of four walls and a roof cracks Seoul’s composure.
“And your boyfriend? Does he share your residence?”
“I’ll talk to him when we get there.”
“Perfect. Which way?”
There is nothing remarkable about their walk. Daniel chews on his bottom lip the entire time and steals glances at them. Seoul considers asking him what he finds noteworthy about them, but considering the insecurity of their arrangement, they hold their tongue.
Seoul tries to appreciate the city, but the quiet, consistent ache in their leg makes them only resent it.
“I can explain. It’s just for one night.”
Ameer looks at Seoul in the doorway, bloodied right leg and blank face with eyes that note everything, “We don’t need this.”
“But they do.”
Ameer looks at Daniel for a full minute, then at Seoul. Fascinating the range of facial expression humans can do.
Ameer is not small. He is Seoul’s height. Seoul is not scared, but tired from the thought of conflict.
Smile. Give gratitude. Make them feel important. It’s easier to take things from them.
“It would only be for the night. I would… appreciate it.” Seoul does their best imitation of a smile.
Ameer raises his eyebrows and looks to Daniel, “I will kill you if we get murdered.” He steps out of the doorway.
“You’re full of shit.”
“Find me a knife.”
Ameer and Seoul are simply not capable of a civil conversation.
If you asked Seoul, they would tell you it was because Ameer was far more impractical and unreasonable than Daniel.
If you asked Ameer, as aforementioned, Seoul was full of shit and probably on drugs.
“How else can I prove it to you? The only difference between you and me is time. I get stabbed, I heal in a minute. You have to think, it takes 10 years for something somewhat intelligent to form!”
Satisfyingly, Ameer walks out of the kitchen with his hands in the air, “Daniel, you’re sorting them out. Honestly, if they want to stab themselves, I’m not a part of it. I left crazy behind.”
“You’re calling me a liar? You assured Daniel it would be of no consequence to you if I stayed the night, yet here you are, antagonising me at every opportunity.” Seoul rifles through drawers and cabinets. “Your species says it is benevolent and courageous, yet it turns a blind eye at suffering on its street corners. Your peer stabbed me,” in a moment of poetry, Seoul finds a knife menacing enough to prove their point, “and left me to bleed out, hungry and alone.”
Fear, real fear that tastes like iron, radiates off Daniel, who puts himself between Seoul and Ameer. “Seoul, please put the knife down. Hurting anyone won’t solve anything.”
Seoul laughs at the man’s protectiveness, “This isn’t for you. Well, it’s not to hurt you.”
Who knew humans were so self-centred: How could this species believe they are the only ‘intelligent’ life in the universe?
Seoul faces the two men and thrusts the knife into the same leg where the stranger stabbed them; they feel terror flood the room with too late objections. With a gasp, they pull it out and drop the stained knife onto the counter. They shift all their weight onto the unharmed leg.
“Now, watch,” Seoul says through gritted teeth as they tear the pant leg and hold it open.
Despite himself, Ameer moves closer and kneels. Daniel has a hand on his shoulder. As the wound knits itself closed, the two men gape in complete confusion. Well, Daniel was completely shaken, whilst Ameer seemed to be impressed in his own confusion.
Sweat pooling on their forehead from an effort to remain upright, Seoul smirks, “Believe me?”
Ameer looks up, respectful in his loss, “For tonight.”
Seoul resists closing their eyes when they taste Daniel’s chicken. They don't want to admit the taste reminds them of kalkun stew back home– back on Magda. Seoul was allowed to tell them it existed, but the detail felt too intimate.
“This is adequate.”
Daniel smiles– he saw how Seoul’s shoulders dropped after their first spoon, “Thank you.”
The clean clothes are soft against Seoul’s skin, though the briefs fit awkwardly.
“The clothes are adequate, too.”
Ameer, not quite there yet, rolls his eyes, “You’re welcome.”
After placing their dish in the kitchen, Seoul points to the room with a large bed. “Is this where I shall sleep?”
Ameer and Daniel look at each other. Daniel speaks up first, “You’re sleeping on the couch…”
The couch looks like its journey to this planet was more taxing than Seoul’s, “No.”
Daniel breathes in and drags a hand across his face. “I can move onto the couch, and you two can share.”
Where Ameer’s refusal is juvenile (“Absolutely not!”), Seoul’s compromise is pragmatic (“No, we can all fit.”) – they would believe. The most contact they have had has been a human sticking a knife into their leg. They’re not quite prepared to be alone again.
In the silence that follows, synchronised, Daniel and Ameer look at Seoul. Then look at each other. Ameer looks at Seoul and huffs with a shake of his head. Daniel looks around the room and his eyes reflect a lot more light than they did a second ago.
“I’m going to change out of these clothes,” there is a hitch in his voice, “and then we can keep talking.”
Ameer and Seoul watch him walk into the room and close the door.
After a few moments, Daniel shouts, “Ameer! I can’t get this– fucking– binder– off!”
Ameer runs into the bedroom, but, rushed and unaccustomed to company, leaves the door ajar. He stands behind Daniel and unhooks the garment wrapped around Daniel’s chest. When the clasps are free, Ameer places soft – Seoul imagines – kisses along Daniel’s shoulders, which drop slightly.
Daniel’s voice is thin, “Maybe it was a bad idea to bring them here.”
Seoul curls their hands into fists, trying to ignite indignation, but that melancholy douses everything.
“No, baby,” the softness in Ameer’s voice catches Seoul off guard. “They’re not bad. We’re just clashing heads. How about they take the bed, and you,” another kiss on the shoulder, “and me,” again, “can snuggle up on the couch like the good ol’ days. Okay?”
Daniel nods and Ameer takes that as his exit.
When he walks out into the living space, it’s undeniable that Seoul was listening. And for the first time that night, Seoul believes his anger is justified. Seoul could have seen them during intercourse and felt it to be a lesser invasion of privacy.
The two people– beings– regard each other in silence; any other confrontation would risk toppling Daniel.
Swallowing past the lump that had formed in their throat, Seoul gives a curt nod, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Ameer says nothing, but a slight smile of approval comes on his face.
That night, as Seoul stares up at the ceiling, they consider everything that has happened since they arrived on this planet. Frustratingly, they realise that humans are not the singular simple beings they seem from afar. On the ground, they hurt you and take everything you have just to make their own lives better. But, they also let you into their homes, despite all that danger because
Seoul falls asleep without an answer. Perhaps there isn’t one. Perhaps it just is.
Daniel can’t fall asleep, wondering if he’ll wake up in the morning and find everything he owns gone with Seoul. Maybe this would all go wrong, maybe Ameer and Seoul get into it again.
Maybe Seoul never finds a place to live and has to go back onto the street, and then Daniel and Ameer have to live with that.
Ameer breathes softly next to Daniel, fast asleep, his mouth slightly open. He has a talent for reading people. Daniel, well-meaning, could have brought someone who would murder them in their sleep and steal their shit, but he brought Seoul, who believes stealing is beneath them, like most things.
Maybe this would all go wrong, but maybe Daniel and Ameer could help someone out.
Against common sense, Ameer trusted his better judgement and let himself relax and let Seoul be tomorrow’s worry.
After Ameer places a plate of eggs, bread and sausage in front of Seoul, he takes his own seat.
“Daniel’s in the shower. Doesn’t like to eat before washing. But, we spoke this morning.”
Seoul can’t understand why they need this information, so they just nod.
“Seoul.”
They look up.
“Where are you going after this? I mean, do you have anyone you can call? A place you know you can sleep tonight. Did… your people make arrangements?”
“Yes, they did. They told us one thing: ‘Survive because no one is going to save you.’ I’m prepared to take care of myself.”
Ameer has the sort of pitiful face Seoul imagines putting their fist through, “Perhaps your people are wrong.”
Seoul sighs, “Are we really going to argue which of us is smarter? It’s a very fruitless battle for you, and beneath me.”
“I’m offering you a place to crash, asshole. Until you figure things out. Just until then.”
Seoul puts down their knife and fork.
“You could sleep on the couch. We can find a way for you to get an I.D. then a job. Cape Town isn’t too bad.”
Ameer looks so nonchalant, as if he’s not giving Seoul a lifeline. But there’s still a question in his eyes: Are you going to grab it?
Seoul picks up their knife and fork. The eggs are foul, but not inedible. The meat is disgusting but not repulsive. The bread has no viable nutrients.
Daniel comes out of the small bathroom, a towel around and under his arms. He smiles at the sight of Seoul and Ameer, “Look at you two being civil. Fucking relief.”
Seoul nods, “It is. It would be extremely awkward if we couldn’t get along, considering I’ll be here for an indeterminate amount of time.”
Daniel laughs, and his face is so bright Seoul looks down to their plate, “Fucking relief.” He walks into the bedroom and closes the door. Ameer swallows a smile at Seoul’s blush. The two sit in silence until their plates are empty.
When Ameer picks up Seoul’s plate, his smug voice is right next to their ear, “Guess your people were wrong, huh?”