What's left (残り物)

17. Where 2?

The anesthetic wears off as my body consumes the drowsiness in my body. "Boris, wanna help me up?" He walks over to me and hands out his hand. I grab it and lift myself up. Immediately my body feels like stretching out and I do so. The passing out was probably the best rest I've had in a few days. "So where do we go from here? You've rescued me and I'm all patched up." I ask Boris the question with a bit of hidden hope that he wants to stick around with me. "I was hoping I could stay with you. I was hoping you would still trust me even after I told you about the things with my brain." His honesty is at least something that I can feel a sense of relief with. "Hmm, I think we could stay together then. I don't see any reason why not." His tail wags and his face brightens up. His infectious smile covers his face and his eye locks with mine. "Oh you should see my apartment!" Boris exclaims excitedly. "It's very quiet and It's my own slice of life." He grabs my furred hand and begins to drag me out the door. I stumble with every step as he drags me almost running out the door with my hand in his. His hand is strangely soft and squishy. My feet finally find themselves in a run with Boris as he pushes out of the door. The light of the outside shines down and I wince with my eye. He has an angst pulling my hand to his home. We run down the paved streets and he doesn't even look back at me as I chase after him. This....feels strange. Not a good strange, but a bad strange. A feeling I don't know why makes me feel bad. My joyous smile turns to a confused expression of why running like this makes me feel so...off. I ignore this bad feeling and continue my running. Boris looks back and holds for a second. "Gray what's wrong?" He asks. I try to find the words "I feel like crap all of a sudden." He keeps his side gaze on me. "Well maybe we should get you a cup of tea then!" He's sweet. He seems like he is bent on trying to get me to check out his apartment. Of course I want to check out his home if he is this enthusiastic. He has a shimmer in his eye begging for me to come with. I answer as it is a truth "I like tea and I am pretty thirsty." This makes him very happy and he muffles a little "Yes." under his breath. He rushes to the wall of a tall building. I look up it's grey face. It's made of concrete and a lot of cinder blocks. It's face that faces to me has a fire escape stairwell. Boris begins to step up the stairs with a rushing pace almost running up the stairs. I follow behind him at a slower pace. He runs up another floor. I have to follow behind. He runs up yet another floor and I already feel a little exhaustion just going up these stairs. I look around at this height at the city below and its beautiful. It's quiet and a few birds fly by. Boris stops at a door with his waggling tail and happy expression. The number is a bit faded but it reads 1-13-9. He slides open the door and I proceed through. Looking around the room looks somewhat small but nonetheless simple and nice. A beanbag chair and a mattress covers the floor. I look around a bit more and see a marble kitchen counter with a naked light bulb. The roof is a solid white finish but overall the entire room seems somewhat bare. There is a window above the beanbag chair that emits the outsides sunlight with the familiar dust dancing through its rays. There's also a nice screen in the wall with a slick black surface. I haven't watched any sort of television for years now. I try and think back about how long its been exactly but it all seems to blend into one long experience that doesn't disdain itself from bits of time. Let's see there were those months where we had large stocks of MREs. There were those times when I was in the biosculpter pod's stasis state. Wait how long was I even in those states. I think a bit more with a feeling anxiously taking over my body. The time, oh shit, the time. I kept thinking about it. Boris makes a dash for his bean bag chair and he lies deep into it as he stares at the black screen of the television. "watcha want to watch?" I was a bit too distraught to answer. "What year is it?" He looks at me inquisitively "I've never heard that show before. I don't think I have any recordings for that." My hands become a bit shaky as I don't even realize them shuddering.

 "Boris." 

"Yes?"

"What year is it."

"2248. Why what's wrong?"

"Boris...I...I've been in and out of this world for 26 years."

"What?"

"I... I've been inside the freeform pods in and out when needed because I had to wait for military aid when it came."

"Damn you're fucking old aren't you?"

"I... It's been 26 years."

"Yeah Gray, life pushed on from the old world. It might not have been as AMAZING as the old world but, it's certainly something I suppose. I do wonder what the old world was like a lot though."

I go to sit with Boris in his bean bag chair still shaken by the sudden realization. I can't help but rest my head in his lap with wide glaring eyes giving a thousand mile stare. Boris looks down at me and chuckles as he begins to stroke the golden brown fur on my unmoving frozen face. 

"So what do you want to watch?"