The Losers New Clothes

The tavern door wobbled shut behind Haruto as he stormed out and into the active streets. He had calmed himself before leaving the restroom, but his stinging wounds kept him feeling hot under the collar. He didn’t even know if he was angrier about nearly being eaten by a doll or the fact that there was no toilet paper.

“Haruto, wait up!” Aki called, skipping to catch him.

“What's wrong?” The System's voice chimed in smugly. "Did you give birth in there?"

Haruto whipped around, pointing at the System. "You know, I think I've been a pretty good sport, all things considered... But I can't even go to the restroom in this world without some monster doll trying to eat my face! So I'd appreciate it if you would lay off of me just a little bit!"

"I draw the line at dolls." The System said with a shudder. "Those things creep me out with their dead eyes."

Haruto exhaled hard through his nose and held Yggdrasil in front of his face. “Yggdrasil! I am yelling at the situation. I want you to know that I'm not mad at you. Can you heal me, please?”

The stick pulsed faintly, spilling warm light across his torn flesh. The scratches sealed and bruises faded, leaving only torn fabric and exhaustion behind. He held Yggdrasil to his chest, hugging it with both arms.

“...Thank you.” Haruto murmured. "You're the best stick in the world."

Yggdrasil began to bob up and down, nuzzling into the embrace. It's brown tinted into a slightly light pink. A small flower bloomed out from Haruto's wrist.

Aki giggled behind her hand. “You'll feel better once you're cleaned up. Come on, let’s head to the tailor. It's not far from here. We’ll get you fixed up.”

"Whatever..." Haruto sighed, looking down at his shredded shirt.

The tailor’s shop was a pocket of elegance among the stonework of Aldam’s streets. Lamps glowed warm against dark polished wood. Mannequins stood in neat rows, dressed in various fashions, ranging from normal to downright weird. Bolts of fabric in rich dyes lined the walls in deep blues, crimson, emerald, and ivory. The air smelled faintly of lavender and pressed linen.

A large muscular man with a curled mustache looked up from a sketchbook. He broke into a broad smile and stood from his seat behind the counter. He wore impressive finery in magenta crushed velvet.

“Hello, dear customers! You may call me Rodney.” He cried, clutching at his chest as if the sight of Haruto’s ruined outfit wounded him personally. "What tragedy has befallen this poor wardrobe?"

"Oh, you know... My existence... The usual..." Haruto said tiredly.

Rodney produced a measuring tape. He circled Haruto like a hawk, muttering, “Broad shoulders… good symmetry… terribly bad posture…”

Haruto stiffened as the man tugged his arms up and wrapped the tape around his chest. Aki sat on the side, watching. She kicked her feet, enjoying the sight. The System sat in her lap, making its jokes and snide remarks.

"We should get him something frilly." It laughed.

“If he wants. It really depends.” Rodney sang. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? What is your job? You could probably pull anything off, but I enjoy tailoring… ha, pun intended, the outfit to the person.”

Haruto groaned, eyes half-lidded. “Let's go with… Stick Hero.”

Rodney leaned closer, tape stretched across Haruto’s arm span. “Oh, that would make you this village’s fourth hero.”

"Is that a lot?" Haruto shifted awkwardly as the man scribbled notes with surprising speed.

"Hero jobs are born from an obsession with an object or action. There can only be one hero of a specific type at a time." The System snorted. “They have the same power as specific jobs with more skills attached.”

"Thank you; that's not what I asked..." Haruto said.

"Yes. Four is a lot." Rodney said, snapping his tape measure back into a roll. "Do you have any requests you would like added into the outfit? Color, material, etcetera?"

"Can you make them self-mending and tough?" Haruto joked. "I tend to get beaten up a lot."

Rodney smiled. "I have an idea that I think you will like. I'll use my personal magic, Inlay, in the making of your outfit."

"W-wait, how much is this going to cost?" Haruto said, stopping him.

"The service cost of a Level 8 Tailor, the cost of materials, and the cost of mana expenditure for my magic would come to around..." Rodney paused, rolling his eyes around in his head as he did the math. "Two coins."

Haruto blinked. “…Two coins? That’s it?”

Rodney smiled. “I must compete with others at the same level as me and higher. As my speed and quality go up, we must compete with lower prices. If you are worried it isn't a fair amount for me, let me assure you that it is still leagues above the pay of a lower-level Tailor.”

“Or he just wants to dress you up like a... DOLL.” The System snickered.

Haruto couldn't even glare anymore. He was running on fumes, just ready for the day to be over. He didn't even have a place to stay yet.

“With Inlay, I can embed qualities into the cloth itself.” Rodney’s voice dropped slightly, a creative glint in his eye. "I shall add self-mending and toughness to it."

“That sounds...” Haruto looked at Aki for permission. She nodded in agreement. "That sounds like a good deal."

Rodney turned with a dramatic swish. “I shall have this done in… ah, twenty minutes. Perfection takes no less.”

As he started toward the back, the System zipped into the air and up to Rodney’s ear. Haruto squinted suspiciously but couldn’t hear the words.

Rodney paused mid-step, listening. His brows lifted, and then he let out a throaty chuckle. “Mhm. I can do that… but it’ll add another coin.”

“Done,” the System whispered smugly.

“Very well. Twenty minutes.” Rodney swept into the back room, the curtains swaying closed behind him.

Behind the curtain, Rodney walked through rows of fabric and dolls. A muffled sob came from the far wall. Rodney’s voice followed, softer than before, coaxing and consoling.

“Shh, my dear, don’t cry so.” He said.

“But Rodney…” Delphine said with a crack. “…he…he soiled her. He soiled Brittany…”

"I know, but she was only supposed to watch him." He said, petting her head. "She shouldn't have approached him."

“Brittany’s… ruined… and it’s all his fault…”

"Again, it's kind of her fault." Rodney’s gentle tone lowered further, almost to a whisper. “Now, now. Leave it to me. We'll give his outfit an extra inlay… of your choice.”

Rodney Kerrington, Tailor of the CMS, smiled at his partner.