Fashion

After they found appropriately-sized garments and Shigure went to pay, Stella told him, "I bought you a gift."

"What," he said.

"Irina said it was."

To which he did not respond. "You're so dry, hubby," Irina noted. "I bet she's the one that has to start it every time."

Start what? Conversation? "Sometimes," Stella replied, "I estimate it's half-half."

"O-oh..."

Shigure not-to-subtly curled his arm around her shoulders to get her to move, but Stella didn't budge. She asked, "Irina, could you help me choose outfits?"

"Me?" Irina blinked. "Uhhh... I could, but... I feel like we dress very differently."

"I don't understand."

"As in, you wear dresses and cute shirts and stuff, and I'm not what you'd call 'girly'. I dunno. Even hubby could probably help more."

"I wouldn't," Shigure replied. "Shockingly, I'm even less girly than you."

Oh, dear. He was in a bad mood again. Irina smiled for some reason. "Fine, fine. In that case, it's really dead at this time of the day so Asaba's out, but I'll call him. He's the one who knows about fashion."

While Irina made the call, Shigure herded Stella outside. They sat on a Picasso-esque bench next to metallic trees that bore origami birds instead of fruit, right outside the underwear shop. "I don't know if those two running this place is just good luck for once, or it's this dome having like no people," he said, "But this time, we have to stay on their good graces."

"Yeah, so stop being mean."

"What. How was I mean?"

"You didn't even look at my gift." Stella gave him The Stare. She probably failed, while...

...yeah, there it was. "We're not actually married," he said.

"We could be."

"We could, but would you really want someone like me as a husband?"

"Yes," Stella said.

Just like that, The Stare dissolved. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. At first, anyway. Then he said, "No."

"Why not?"

"Irina looks like she's, um. Like she's fighting with whatshisname," Shigure said. "I wonder what's going on."

This was true; Irina had gone from sitting on the counter to pacing around her shop, almost knocking a mannequin down in the process. "That's worrisome," Stella opined.

"But it's true that whatshisname defended you once you left. If those two support you along with the couple next door, that's, uh... six people left? To convince? Though I'm still wondering why you'd open the cafe in your own house instead of renting a building somewhere."

Stella was too busy turning spy mode on to respond, but come to think of it, that was a good point.

"...asked... can't..."

She adjusted her left ear.

"I'll be there soon," Asaba said, at the other end of the line, "But I still owe them some favors, y'kno. It'll be quick."

"When will you stop getting involved with them, Asaba?" Irina grumbled. "It's always 'it'll be quick', and then next thing I know, you're getting shipped across the Solar System again."

"That was ONCE. Besides, it's nothing that serious. Just some tourist couple that stole their shrooms or whatever. I'll find them, nicely ask them to give the shrooms back, and then my bros can trip balls all they want. It's not like in the mainland. The branch here is a joke."

"You're a joke."

Asaba laughed. "Gimme ten."

"Ten? To find a random couple in a town of five thousand?"

"They'll be easy to find, believe me. The guy is really tall and the girl got the cat surgery and..." He trailed off.

Irina was staring at them.

So was Shigure—at Stella. "What are you doing?" He asked.

The connection cut off immediately, since Stella's ears flattened. "Shigure... about what happened earlier... my mafia theory was right after all..."

"I mean, yeah, it was a cheap ass laundering scheme hotel. Why? What's happening?"

"They're after us. And Irina is involved."

Shigure smiled, but he didn't look that happy. "Of course they are. Of course. Next up: getting struck by lightning."

With her phone still in hand, Irina jogged over to them. "Follow me," she said. "I'll explain everything in a bit."

Shigure nudged his head at Stella, as if to ask 'do we?' She nudged back. Somehow, he understood this. "Sure," he replied, "Why not?"

Oh, no. The Shigure bomb had been activated. He stood up, taking Stella's bag. "Quickly," Irina urged.

"Quickly, wife, dearest."

Having said that, Shigure was, not seemed, more annoyed than scared. Abnormal reaction, but he was silly. Perhaps fear had left him back at the cab. Stella needed, not wanted, a hairband, so it wasn't as though her priorities were in order, either.

Then again, what did these mushroom mafia men know about danger? They lived in a snow globe. Maybe Shigure thought the same. Irina guided them to an unsubtly secretive room on the shopping center's second floor, hidden behind a traditional painting that looked jarringly out of place. The inside of the room almost resembled an egg cabin. Irina shut the door behind her once Shigure sat, calm as a rabid dog. 

"Give them back," Irina said.

Come to think of it, Stella hadn't told Shigure why, exactly, they were being followed. It'd be hard to explain without revealing her spy mode. She had two bombs to defuse now. "Give what back?" Shigure asked. "Why are we here?"

"You guys know what I'm talking about. Are you out of your minds?"

"I really don't. Do you, Stella?"

Yes. "No."

Irina ran a hand down her face. "Just give them back. Please."

"You heard her, Stella. Give back the gift."

"Not that, the—plants. Are you guys undercover agents or something?"

'No," said Stella. "Wrong taxonomic kingdom."

Irina pointed at her so suddenly Stella's self-defense processors activated. "Ha! So you know what I'm talking about. Listen, listen. It's nothing that bad. It's not even technically illegal. The government doesn't care as long as nobody gets hurt."

Shigure snorted. "There's no signal in this room. She must really think we're undercover agents." How could he...? Oh, right, the device monitoring him must've lost connection. "Stella atomized the shrooms. Sorry. Also, there's an AI monitoring everything I do, so I'd tell whoever is following us to stop if I were you. It can't hear me, but it picks on 'key events', like getting chased by kids pretending to be gangsters."

Stella would've swatted him with her tail, but this actually made Irina smile. "Heh, that's a good way to put it. But anyway. I REALLY doubt you guys used all of them at once."

"We didn't. Like I said, Stella atomized the shrooms."

"Vaporized," Stella corrected.

"Whatever."

Irina squinted at them. "Like the drone? And you didn't affect anything else in the room?"

"Hmph. I have excellent accuracy."

"Where would we even hide them?" Shigure asked. "Besides, Stella can't consume anything, and the AI would flag me the instant it saw me picking any drug stronger than caffeine."

"...so... so you guys just... deleted them from existence?"

"Vaporized," Shigure corrected, at the exact same time as Stella. This would've been nice of him, except he did it to make fun of her, as evidenced by the S-M-I-R-K. That was around the time Stella recognized her misdiagnosis: he didn't need to be defused, just karate-chopped. He might've taken the situation seriously at first, but not anymore, for whichever reason. 

Irina didnt deem too enthused by this. "Well, then. Let's suppose I believe this. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"The truth," Stella said. 

"Yeah, and then what? Even kids pretending to be gangsters can be dangerous." 

Stella karate-chopped Shigure before he said anything. As usual, she'd have to be the voice of reason. "The correct course of action would be to report involved to authorities. However, the authorities here need urgent psychiatric attention. I will first attempt to defuse the situation. How can I talk to your friends?"

"Ew. Don't call them that. But, uh... according to what Asaba said, they might already be outside."

"Understood." A quick infrared scan proved this to be true. Stella stood up. "Shigure, do not interfere."

"I'll be fine."

"I know you will. I'm worried about the gangsters."

"Me too," Irina said. "Are you guys sure you're not undercover agents..."

She moved away from the door as Stella headed to it, though. Outside, on a Braque-esque bench, sat Asaba, alone. He was thinner than Isla, not shorter, with gelled, spiky hair, and either a fungal infection or a yellow streak of hair near his forehead. "Yo," he said. "Irina asked if—"

"Confess to your crimes or I vaporize your friends."

"—I could help you out with your 'fits. Nah, let's leave that for later."

"They're outside," Stella said.

Asaba blinked. "Huh? Already?"

"I will employ peaceful mediation tactics."

"Give them peach pie," Shigure, who'd trailed behind her, suggested. "I'm sure that'll work."

"Understood. Asabob, gather your friends."

Silence.

Shigure's stifled laughter.

Silence.

Shigure's non-stifled laughter.

And then Asabob shrugged. "Make pie, not war."