Old reliable

In her apartment Karaza took a perfume bottle out of her suitcase, sparing some in the sink full of water.

"If you're smaller I can take you where ever, it's no use if you stayed in my place collecting dust." She said to the bowl of lemon before submerging it in the infused water.

After drying it in a big towel the bowl of lemons became in the size of a keychain like her axe in its miniature form.

"Best artifact in the wild." She puts the perfume bottle back, taking another one and repeating similar steps with some clean water, only to submerge a new dress in it.

"Now it's damage proof for rough work or fights." She hanged the wet not miniature dress to dry. One can't fight well while fearing that your dress will get ruined can they?

'I'll be late for training, gotta go.'

In the other neighborhood Roxy woke up after catching up on sleep after the wild night, stretching like snoopy. Her roommate was up, carving some faux marble with a towel on his lap.

While being this early isn't unusual something looked different.

"Have you got some sleep roomie?" She asked, neither liked talking this early in the morning so the lack of a reply wasn't unexpected.

The recycle bin was filled with takeout boxes and wrapping wax paper.

'Wow, that's ten thousand moro of food..' She thought, watering the plants and looking at him making an egg cheese sandwich.

'Growth ♬.ᐟ spurt 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋  alerttt ♪♫♪ '

In the art academy cafeteria Ryu was looking at his curriculum and road map, running out of courses to take. He has two years left and one year to finish enough courses to get enough credits to graduate. While the last year is all about one big project.

'Yup... it's over.'

"Hey." Oliver sat on the seat next to him, careful where to place his casted leg.

"Cracked skin near the insigon is normal, just use the turmeric ointment, a lot." 

" Are you a mind reader?"

"Nope, your sister had the surgery month ago, skin crakes after a month." He opened a bag of quenchy enhanced chips. Oliver noticed the many food wrappers and paper plates in the bin.

"That's one late growth spurt dude, does your bones hurt?"

"Everything hurt." 

"..Wait, will my sis get a late growth too?"

" No. Back in my day they didn't have the best anesthesia, the one that was strong enough to knock you out long enough for the surgery had too many side effects." 

"Interesting story grandpa." He noted the how he's always in a cardigan, though today it was hanged on the chair.

"Isn't it kinda late to be looking at the road map my guy."

That earned him a mean side eye which didn't phase him. 

"Come here, let big bro help ya." He took a look at the papers only to be confused. He already took all theoretical courses, even ones his peers are currently taking, just needing to take two electives with the mandatory stone sculpting course.

"You're on the right track, just take two painting courses...Oh.." It wasn't foreign to him what paintings classes meant, since he's friends with Sami first. It wasn't foreign to most of the academy that their advisor Andre caused ten students to quit with his crushing pressure, bombarding them with painting assignments with close deadlines and following it with stinging criticism, only focusing on producing high class painters that worked for the nobles and the riches despite the interest of other students in other routes in art as an occupation. 

Sami himself, with all his talent was struggling.

"I mean it's just this year, can't you thug it out?"

"I can, but then my final year project would be a painting."

"He can't force his ways this much."

"Oh he can, Architecture major." 

That reminded him of Art Academy strongest rule: The words of a student's advisor was absolute. 

Though no other advisor abused that rule this outrageously. 

"Why this rule is held this highly anyway?" Oliver scoffed, slightly agitated.

" I could tell you but it's a three chapters of art and culture history worth of words." He handed him a two page summary instead. 

"Can't you take other electives? Fabric arts of something else?"

"He simply won't approve." 

"So what you gonna do now?" He looked at the notes and summaries, the Band-Aids on the fingers and the grayish stains the faux marble leaves on the skin.

" I think.. I'm gonna bake something." That wasn't avoidance or sarcasm, it was something genuine like hunger. 

As he packs his things he sees the elephant in the room, Oliver hoped he wouldn't ask.

"Damn, you have a chubby ankle now." Ryu looked at the casted leg. Oliver laughed, relived he didn't pry further. 

In a cabin filled with sculpting materials he attempted to work on his assignment, but each scrape he carved on the faux stone was either too sharp or not hallow, deviated too much or left. The frustration of the growing chasm between the image in his head and the output of his hands caused the piece of faux marble to melt in the water of the repurposing bucket.

 He looked at what was a work in progress sinking down in the water, losing the shape and mark that indicated it was made by him, reaching the bottom, settling to become a smooth slap of dough ready to be used again.

He locked eyes with his reflection a little too long.

He headed out with some faux stone to practice with it, only to meet his old mentor at the gates of the academy.

" Hey kid! I was gonna look for ya!" Mitsuki walked closer to ruffle his hair. 

He looked at her, shimmery eyeshadow that was almost gone, apron with many smudges and laugh lines that made one feels that everything is gonna be okay. 

"You gonna teach here again?"

"No, but Yamada would be happy if I did, he's teaching you stone sculpting now right?"

"Yeah, he handled my auction too."

"Heard great things about that, show me your catalog later." 

They talked as they walked, mundane details and all. She looked at his hand and the Band-Aids on it.

"You do your preventative exercises kid?" 

"I do, the faux marble is making me itchy though." He scratched over the Band-Aid.

"Don't scratch."

"Now I wanna do it more. Right you were looking for me, weren't you."

"Oh yeah, wanna be my temporary assistant again? Business bloomed last couple weeks."

Between Andre's headache and the headache in his stomach and bones the idea of roaming the city and the nearby towns with an earnest mentor once again, repairing stained glass windows and door seemed comforting, soothing even.

"Sure." 

'After all, whether I'm well or not nothing beats the satiation of working with my hands. My old reliable.'

He opened the door of the shabby apartment which didn't open fully. Unusual, the flat wasn't that shabby.

His eyes sparkled, a two kilograms block of butter and a small wheel of chees plus hundred eggs, give or take.

"Your big brother came. He also gave me this, I'm sorry but you're no longer my glorious fea of the south waterfall." She showed off the lush fishbone succulent.

"Whatever." He puts on the 'I'm hurt but won't show it' face while celebrating inside, mentally making a fist pump. 

There was also a fancy chocolate box with the goodies which he insisted on not opening but that made the curious plant open it.

It was a jumping clown box.

"See? you played yourself." He found the chocolates in a paper bag.

"Hmm, old school!" She grabbed the note with the clown, something about late blooming and losers.

"Boys are mean."

Turning in bed was worse than sleep depravation in his book which what was happening at the evening when he tried to catch up with sleep. He switched to blob then to human again but ultimately gave up and grabbed the faux marble to practice on.

The miniature sofa he carved didn't look too bad.

'I still don't know how to capture the creases of fabrics.'

He looked at the other side of the room, Roxy reading a book of the human brain.

"Right, what happened with the library buying your book?" He remembered.

"Nobody loves me anymore." She said flatly, deep into reading.

"When I feel better I'll nag you about doing almost everything except translating." He grabbed some more faux marble.

"No hear me out, I'm learning how the human brain process languages to make fabulous translation trust."

"You make fabulous translation by making crappy ones first."

"I already done that."

"Do it some more."

He dropped back in focus and so did she, no need to elongate the conversation. The perks of a good roommate.

But she recalled her talk in the down with the human, about the paper dagger.

"That knife react to your pursuit, only activate when you're serious about it. When you grabbed it translation was your pursuit right?"

"So you're saying I'm not serious enough about it?"

"I'm not the one acting like paper in your hands."

"I'm serious, really. I'll be translating and selling every paper on that dusty magazine rack till that old lady explode!"

"And how long that lady have to live?"

"What?"

"Maybe you're serious with it, but are you human serious about it? If you wanna piss her off you can't be taking couple decades to figure things out, she would be too dead by that time."

"Oh yeeah." Almost as she just remembered, humans don't get to chill and wonder around for decades.

"You know, just like didn't get good at your guaranteed knockout technique without commitment." She elaborated since she felt that the parasite didn't got the idea, but that took the conversation somewhere else.

"It's not a guaranteed knockout technique, I actually hit the weak point in a structure."

"Cool story." She walked away, annoyed by how she didn't care enough about her own goal.

"You don't wanna know more?! Come on it'll help ya when we fight again!"

At bedtime Roxanne looked at the sky.

'I don't like being in a rush but old reliable isn't reliable here. It is what it is.'

She went to sleep. Unlike someone else.