Masao stomped up the stairs, overwhelmingly aware of the girl behind him.

  "You can stay here, but don't bother me," he said, opening the door to let them into his apartment. He immediately went to the couch and colpsed onto it, burying his head in a pillow and letting out a long sigh. The girl closed the door behind her and stood in the entrance. She watched as he became completely ignorant of everything around him.

  Without his permission, she began exploring the pce. It was a small single-bedroom apartment, messy and reeking of cigarettes. Next to the door was a small kitchen with a window cutout in the wall, allowing the living room to be seen through it. Attached to the kitchen was a bathroom.

  She looked around the living room, which had a couch in the center facing a small TV on a stand. There was a rug under the couch, which was covered in stains. There were also a couple of dead potted pnts strewn around the room, with a small table and chair in the corner. She went to look out the rge sliding gss door that opened up to a small balcony.

  The thing that stood out the most was how dirty the pce was. There were cigarette butts everywhere, piled up on empty food bowls and pstic containers. The floor was dirty, and the odor was overwhelming—a smell so strong it made her sick.

  There was just one door she hadn't explored yet. A closed bedroom door in the living room. She stepped inside and turned on the light. It was clean and nearly empty apart from a single bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. Photos hung from the walls, crooked and dusty.

  The bed was made, and it smelled much nicer in the room than the rest of the house. A bedroom that was rarely used.

  She looked at the photos on the walls, and sadness filled her eyes. In each photo was a slightly younger version of the man who had saved her. His eyes were bright and filled with color, surrounded by cheerful companions. In many of the photos, he was accompanied by a blond-haired boy.

  She returned to the living room and knelt next to him, poking his cheek.

  "Mmmh...stop it," he groaned. She stared at his restful face.

  "What's your name?" she asked, apparently having forgotten his decration from earlier.

  "Masao..." he blinked his eyes open. With their faces close, her eyes were like a deep void pulling him in. "It's getting te. Why don't you go take a shower?" he offered.

  Her feet were dirty, and her clothes were still wet. He could imagine how uncomfortable that must be, plus she had been in that leaking shed all night. He reluctantly got up and went into the bedroom to get her some clean clothes. A pin white t-shirt and shorts.

  They would be big on her, but it was all he had. It had been forever since he'd done undry. The Laundromat in their part of town had gone out of business a long time ago, since the machines were destroyed by teenage gangs who thought it was funny to ruin valuable machines.

  He didn't go anywhere, so he usually wore the same outfit for multiple days in a row and then hung his dirty clothes on the balcony to get washed by the rain.

  He sat at the kitchen table listening to the sound of the water running.

  Even though the world was in chaos, water and electricity were still supplied to homes. COT had taken over all the power and water treatment pnts. As long as citizens sent in a small yearly payment, water and electricity would be supplied to their listed residence. This was only avaible for people living in homes that had working plumbing and electrical outlets.

  Masao reached for a half-empty box of cigarettes on the table and lit one with the lighter hanging around his neck. When he took a drag, all the tension that had built up in his body throughout the day faded away. At some point, COT would come back to search the area for the girl. How much longer did he have?

  He would have to keep her under close watch so nobody could find her. Just thinking of all the work he would have to put in to protect her made him feel exhausted. He slouched, resting his head on the table with the lit cigarette between his fingers.

  The water stopped running a few minutes ter, repced by the sound of the girl fumbling around inside the bathroom.

  She peeked her head out of the door.

  "Are you hungry?" she asked, walking over to him. His clothes hung on her small frame, making her look more boyish than she did in the bck skirt. Her hair was still wet. Water from her bangs dripped onto her nose. Masao wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he had a preference for girls wearing white. He thought they gave off an angelic vibe, something he quite enjoyed.

  He knew that whoever had put her in such a dark and revealing outfit was surely an enemy of his—whether it be Wataru or some other maniputive employee.

  "I'm a little hungry," he admitted at the sound of his stomach growling. He breathed out smoke, watching her look through his empty cupboards, decorated by nothing but cobwebs and a few cracked ptes.

  "You're not going to find anything in there. All my food is in the fridge," he said. She moved to the tall white box and opened it, disappointed at the small assortment of microwave meals.

  "Mm..." she whined, tapping her foot behind her.

  "What's wrong?" he raised an eyebrow.

  "This is all you have? ...how can I cook with this?"

  "Err- that's the point, you don't have to cook at all," he said.

  Taking out two meals and following the directions on the packaging, she started to hum a song.

  "Hey, when were you born?" he asked.

  "1944," she answered, moving to clean off the table where a mountain of trash was piled. He didn't bother to stop her. It's not like they could eat at the table when it was in such a state anyway.

  "1944...and how old are you? I mean...how old would you be if- you know what I mean," he asked. She tilted her head. Suddenly, he was struck with a cruel reality. Did she not know what really happened to her? He thought that she was aware she was frozen in time and sent over 200 years into the future, but did COT not tell her?

  "I'm 19," she smiled sweetly. His eyes fell dark. Watching her wipe off the table, the room fell silent. He was a 23-year-old man, now living with a 19-year-old girl who knew nothing about the world she was thrust into. Who in their right mind would ever think it was a good idea?

  More than anything, he worried he might end up hurting her. He had a plethora of bad habits, things that a girl like her shouldn't be subjected to, but he didn't want to ruin their meal by revealing the truth about her circumstances. Seeing a cute girl cry would ruin his appetite.

  She grabbed his meal from the microwave with a cheerful giggle, setting it down to cool and putting her's in next. She had chosen a simple chicken, rice, and potato meal. These were the standard everyday meals for shut-ins and members of the ze craze like himself.

  When their food was ready, she brought it over to him with a fork poking out the top. He stared at his food for a minute, feeling awkward despite the comfort the girl dispyed. It had been a long time since he shared a meal with someone.

  He hadn't done this in years...and it scared him.

  How long would it be until she found the true extent of his condition? He didn't want to get attached to someone who wouldn't stay with him, especially since keeping her in his home was illegal.

  "So...what's your name? You never told me," he asked, trying to fill the silence. He finally took a bite of soggy rice. It was grainy and wet, a taste he had grown accustomed to.

  "I don't know."

  "Come on, how do you not know your own name?" he scoffed.

  "My father never called me by a name," she said, voice lowering. "He would call me 'girl' or 'kid'."

  "Hmph...so what am I going to call you then? What about 'bothersome woman'?" he ughed. She shook her head violently, a frown forming on her lips. "I'm just kidding. Hmm..."

  This was a big deal to him. He was supposed to give a name to a human being, someone who would carry that name with them for the rest of their life. The only thing he could think of was the mysterious acronym painted on her metal coffin.

  Y.O.L.I

  What did it stand for? He couldn't think of any company or famous slogan that used those letters. He thought about it, and thought some more until he concluded that Y.O.L.I was a good enough name for her.

  "What do you think of Yoli? Do you like that name?" he asked.

  "Yoli?" she repeated it to herself like she was testing it out. "That's a lovely name," she smiled.

  "Phew...that's what I'll call you then."

  Now that their name issue was sorted, they continued to eat. When he finished, he left his trash on the table carelessly and retreated to the couch.

  "You didn't throw away your trash..."

  "Hmph, lecturing me already? You don't need to pick up after me, by the way, it would get thrown away eventually," he said, knowing full well that wasn't true.

  She sat on the couch armrest and looked around the room, still getting used to it.

  "Do you not wonder about your family? Do you know what happened to you?" he finally asked.

  "My family is fine, they are living in the countryside," she smiled with a confused smile.

  "COT lied to you. Yoli...do you know what year it is?" he asked.

  "Mm...1963," she replied, pressing her finger to her lip. His mouth fell open. Someone alive 221 years ago was sitting in front of him, talking to him, and eating alongside him. He knew that this was the case, but hearing it come out of her own mouth shocked him.

  "Ughhhh...you aren't going to like what I have to tell you..." he sighed. "It's not 1963 anymore, it's 2184."

  Her face was still, showing no signs that she even processed what he said. Was it too much for her?

  "You didn't notice? Clearly, the world doesn't look like it did then...your family died a long time ago," he said. "I'm sorry."

  Her lips fell open slightly, and her eyes caught a distant look.

  "Look, you were frozen for over two hundred years, that's how you're living right now," he said. He grabbed the TV remote and navigated to his saved recordings, pying back the recording he had taken of the first report on her. Wataru's familiar face fshed onto the screen, a news report Masao was well familiar with.

  Her eyes were glued to the screen, small frame unmoving as she watched her lifeless body lie in the coffin.

  "Everyone died? Except for...me?" she said softly.

  "That's right. This guy, Wataru, works for COT. He lied to you, told you that everything was okay and that your family was alive," he said patiently. "They wanted to study your innocence or something. Girls like you don't really exist anymore."

  "Lied to me?" She turned from the TV. "You lied to me, too."

  "..." he looked away, filled with guilt again. "Yeah, I guess I did," he admitted.

  She covered her gssy eyes with her hands, breathing in shortly. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't decide if he should comfort her or let her cry alone. He was terrible at comforting people, and usually, his attempts to soothe others only made things worse.

  "Umh...I know it's sad, but err- there's nothing we can do about it."

  She took her hands away from her face, revealing her tearstained cheeks. He id his head back against the armrest and reached a hand out to her. "Come here," he sighed reluctantly.

  She was hesitant at first, but eventually she climbed on top of him. She took his hand, holding it gently as she y her head down on his chest. He could feel her small body pressing against his, so close that he could smell her. She nuzzled against him, bringing her hand up to rest on his shoulder.

  "It's going to be okay. I..." he ran his fingers through her hair in a comforting motion. "I won't lie to you anymore, well, not about things like that."

  Her breathing was staggered, and her tears began to soak his shirt. Feeling her on top of him made him realize that he was the only person she had left. There was nobody on earth who had the heart to protect her, and nobody who wanted to. Their proximity made him nervous, but she didn't seem bothered by it. It came naturally to them.

  "I'm alone too, so we can be alone together," he said.

  "What?" She picked up her head to look at him, big eyes sparkling.

  "I'm a part of the ze craze. I spend every day alone," he ughed softly. She squinted at him.

  "What's that mean?"

  "Err- the 'ze craze' is kinda like a movement of people who uhh...well, it's people who stay inside all day and do nothing for whatever reason and get minimal contact with the outside world," he expined.

  "Why do you do that?" she questioned critically.

  "Uhh, it's not my fault. I was pretty much forced into this lifestyle."

  Yoli's expression softened, and she waited for him to eborate.

  "Three years ago, I was in a really bad motorcycle accident. My heart stopped working, and I was going to die. I got taken to COT's hospital, and they performed a massive surgery on me," he said. "They took out my heart and repced it with a metal one."

  "Whaaat? That's not possible..."

  "Hah, it totally is," he ughed, rubbing his eyes. He was feeling weary now from the weight she was putting on him. "Medical practices have advanced a lot since your time."

  "The heart they gave me doesn't work very well, though, so I'm kinda in a permanent state of tiredness. It's like- real hard to live with it."

  "Ah...you're hurting?" She brought her hand to his cheek. He winced from the contact, her soft skin against his. He felt out of pce, which was weird since he was inside his own home. She made him feel like a stranger to his own skin, unaware of just what he was capable of in the moment.

  "It hurts sometimes, but this is how I have to live to survive. Even going out with you today made me feel like I was dying," he smiled weakly. "They did this to me to test their new surgical transpnt technology, and to get revenge."

  She listened intently, taking everything he had to say with utmost importance. He loved it, having someone who would listen to whatever he said and actually care.

  "I was the leader of a gang, a well-known one. We stole from COT all the time, even killed their employees and broke their internet connection sometimes," he chuckled, thinking back to his rebellious days. "So they did this to put an end to my trouble-making, I guess."

  "You kill people?" Her eyes filled with fear. "And steal too?"

  "N-no, not anymore. They were bad guys, probably on their way out regardless."

  She frowned, and without saying a word, sat up and began to lift her shirt over her head.

  "H-hey! What are you doing!?" he shouted sharply. Heat rose in his chest as he watched her take off her shirt. She was wearing a simple bck bra. Small breasts.

  She pulled down lightly on the middle of it, showing him the space between them. There was a small white crystal impnted into her skin.

  "W-what the hell is that?" he stuttered.

  "Yamada put this into me when I was with him," she stated.

  He couldn't peel his eyes away from her body- after all, she was exactly his type.

  "Huuuh? He-" Masao frowned at the thought of a creepy guy like Wataru doing surgery on Yoli's naked body.

  "They told me that my body was too weak to function on its own..." Her eyes softened, and she wiped the tears from her face. "It gives me a shock every 12 hours, and I can also do it manually. I wouldn't be able to wake up without it."

  "...That makes sense, I guess," he said. She had been asleep for so long that her body had probably lost a lot of its abilities. "H-hey, wait!"

  She put her shirt back on, struggling to get it over her head. "That thing wakes you up? Does it help your blood flow or something?"

  "Yes," she nodded. His eyes widened. He grabbed her shoulders strongly, bringing her closer.

  "Could you shock me?"

  "H-huh? Shock you?" She fell into his arms, pressing her head against his shoulder.

  "Yeah, could you? If you do it while you're touching me, would it also affect me?"

  "We could try...would it help your heart?"

  "Yes! Yes, hopefully it will," he patted her head. "Okay, I'm waiting."

  She concentrated for a moment, then brought her hand up and reached down her shirt to press the crystal. Her leg quivered a bit, but she seemed mostly unaffected. Masao, on the other hand, had an intense reaction.

  He immediately jerked his head backwards, mouth falling open. The intensity of the shock was something he'd never felt before. He could feel it coursing through his body, entering his senses, and overriding every instinct. His heartbeat pounded in his ear, its pace quickening and then slowing to match a regur functioning heartbeat.

  It was something better than any high he'd ever felt before, better than smoking, better than getting off, better than any woman he could ever touch- because he finally felt alive.