At the apartment, Kaidu glanced over his shoulder and scowled at them. “Find your own place.”

“We’re still broke,” Ikara reminded him.

“Once we beat another floor, we’ll find somewhere else to stay, I promise,” Rowan said.

Kaidu snorted. He unlocked the door and vanished inside.

Rowan caught it before it closed and held it open for Ikara. She gave him a nod and ducked inside.

On the far side, Kaidu was nowhere to be seen. After a moment, he reappeared out of his room and lobbed a bag at Ikara, then Rowan. “There.” He slammed the door shut.

“Uh, you think he’s angry?” Ikara whispered.

“Maybe a little,” Rowan mumbled back. He peeked inside his bag.

A sharpening steel, rust remover, and some oil awaited him. Ikara giggled and pulled a coil of piano wire out of hers, then hurried into her room with it. The door slammed behind her, but the sheen of wire-on-wire told Rowan what was happening inside.

“Thank you, Kaidu,” he called to the closed door.

A grunt was his only reply.

He sat down in the main room and drew out the tools. Quietly, he began to clean, then sharpen his spade. I’ll start here. If it turns out sharpening it voids it as a hand spade, I should be able to afford a new one, and if it turns out I can sharpen it, this is my favorite tool aside from the rake, so it isn’t a waste.

Slowly, the spade cleaned up and began to sharpen under his ministrations. Rowan paused and swiped at the air a few times. Still feels fine. I guess sharpening doesn’t kick my tools out of counting for Gardener.

Daylight faded and night set in. Rowan sat up and stretched, a hand to his back, and stared out at the dark sky. His stomach grumbled. Ugh, I’m hungry.

“Kaidu, Ikara, want eggs again?”

Nearly at the same time, someone knocked on Kaidu’s door.

Kaidu rushed out of his room, retrieved a bag of food from the deliveryman, and vanished back into his room.

“…Guess that’s a no. Ikara?”

“It’s either that or protein bars,” she said, brandishing a handful from her deep pockets.

Rowan pulled a face. “I dunno about you, but I’ve had enough of those for today.”

“Same. Eggs it is, then.” Rowan sighed. “We should go grocery shopping. We can’t keep eating eggs for dinner every night.”

“It’s only fair. Kaidu’s letting us stay at his place, so we ought to do something for him,” Ikara said.

“We?” Rowan prompted.

Ikara grinned mischievously. “By ‘we,’ I of course mean, ‘you.’ Unless you know a shop that takes GSEZ dollars?”

“You and those damn GSEZ dollars. There’s gotta be somewhere you can exchange them for credits around here.”

Ikara shrugged and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Not a lot of people outside the GSEZ want to deal with physical money. You can lose it, and stuff.”

Rowan opened the fridge and grabbed the eggs. “Shopping tomorrow. Tonight… eggs.”

Ikara sighed. “How I look forward to tomorrow.”

He pulled out the skillet and started cracking eggs. “I’ll scramble them today. They’ll be… kind of different?”

Ikara groaned.

“Your piano wire, how did that go?” Rowan asked casually, searching the kitchen for a whisk.

“Not bad, not bad. It’s not as flexible as the strings, and the skills don’t like it. Not all of them work. Spool, for one, since it doesn’t really loop tight enough to fit on a spool. Stitch, too. But it’s a good special-case weapon.”

“How much thread do you have in those pockets of yours, anyways?”

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and grinned, then pulled out handfuls of spools in all different colors. “Lots. I can generate new spools too, but it costs MP and takes an hour or two, so it’s usually more cost-effective to buy them. But if I have MP left at the end of the day, I’ll spin off a spool or two.”

“Can you make fabric?” Rowan asked, curious.

“Nah. Not yet, anyways. Might be further up the Fabrication tree.” She glanced at him, then shifted, sticking her hips out. “I, uh. I was thinking I could make you and Kaidu armor.”

“Armor would be awesome.”

“Well, it’d be leather. And, uh, classes have passive armor affinities. For you…” She looked him up and down. Her eyes glowed a faint green.

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about a cute gardening apron?” Ikara grinned.

Rowan frowned, then shook his head. “Any armor is better than none. I’d appreciate it, Ikara.”

She pouted. “That’s no fun, I wanted to hear you squeal a little. Anyways, I could make you gardening gloves, too, so you’d be doing okay for armor. I’m sure there’s better armor you could have, but I can’t make it yet.”

“What about Kaidu? I get aprons and gloves for Gardeners, but what do Hairdressers get?”

“Smocks,” Ikara giggled.

“Smocks?” Rowan boggled, imagining Kaidu in the smocks he’d worn in art class in kindergarten. His father’s old shirts, baggy and paint-stained, sleeves falling over his hands. After a second, he shook his head. A hairstylist’s smock. Black, plasticky, lots of pockets… but how on earth could someone turn that into armor? Leather gloves and a leather apron, sure, but…

“And Stylish Clothes, fortunately, for our ever-so-popular Hairdresser.”

“Hottest Hairdresser Ever.”

Ikara looked at him. “Huh?”

“Er… never mind.” Rowan waved his hand.

“Anyways, I’ll find some white leather and make a replica of that coat he loves so much, the next time I have a minute or two. But, uh… someone’s gonna have to buy me some leather.” She turned and looked at Kaidu’s shut door.

“Penniless leeches,” Kaidu grumbled from the other side.

“Thanks Kaidu, we love you,” Ikara called back.