Measure Twice

"...No."

It would be a cold day in a hell born of fire before he let a tailor take his measurements. If there was one thing he was most insecure about, it was his own body. The ears, the unnatural eye color. Even things humans struggled with, Inuyasha wasn't immune to. He'd never had the body of someone who would be considered a strong man.

Before, it had always been being scrawny. Something that wasn't obvious unless he took off both the suikan, and the kosode. Nowadays, it was the exact opposite. His clothes weren't baggy anymore, and he came from a culture that lived by 'the smaller the better'.

It was like he just couldn't win when it came to the looks department.

He wasn't even sure why he cared in the first place. Just that it would have been nice to hear someone liked the way he looked. Maybe it wouldn't feel like he inherently looked wrong. Half transformed.

"Ah... yeah. Somethin' like mine, but blue." A silent inhale. Just enough to make himself look a little smaller. "He likes blue, and his hair is this really nice shade of it, too. Makes me think of the ocean. You can measure me with your eyes."

"Okay," he agreed. Flipping open a nearby book, he quickly scrawled in a series of notes.

Color and style. A rough estimate of numbers.

All the while, his expression remained unchanged.

"Come back in four days. Your order will be done then." After a pause, the tailor then added - "Give Rouge your name on the way out."

That was something.

To not be immediately given a harsh 'no' was foreign enough, but to still be told to talk to someone about payment, after he'd explicitly stated he had no physical money, people were cut from a different cloth around here.

"...Same height as I am. Make it a little big, I don't think he'd want it tight or anything."

...

"...Y'know what? Same everything as me. So you don't gotta measure anything. Just make it like it's for me, and it'll fit him. Scratch the the make it a little big thing. Make it as tight as possible, he's a showoff."

More like an attempt to keep it from coming down to Ton's upper thighs, but that wasn't for Tay to know. Like hell he'd openly comment on any changes that had come of traveling with that man for as long as he has now.

"Anything else ya need? 'Cause I want this done by yesterday. Some people don't have the luxury of waiting."

He'd received a request, and he'd do everything he could to fulfill it fully.

"If that's the case. I can be more accurate, if I measure you," the tailor suggested.

He could eyeball it, sure. Still, it was more reliable to go with exact numbers, where possible.

"Do you want it styled like your clothing," he then asked - repeating his unanswered question.

though   terra   had   no   little   to   say   when   it   had   home   to   the   𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐒   of   her   own   home   world   or   the   𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋   𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒   waged   in   world   b   ,   being   able   to   travel   to   the   far-off   lands   and   different   realms   of   her   comrades   pique   her   curiosity   .     it   is   as   if   she   could   glimpse   the   lives   of   her   friends   ,   seeing   through   their   eyes   ,   if   only   briefly   .

the   esper’s   travels   this   time   had   taken   her   to   zidane’s   world   ,   and   her   actorly   companion   certainly   had   not   merely   spun   tales   .     gaia   is   lively   and   colourful   ,   and   she   takes   her   time   exploring   alexandria   and   other   towns   .     eventually   ,   her   feet   carry   her   to   a   shop   aboard   an   airship   ,   which   𝙖𝙡𝙡   𝙩𝙝𝙚   𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚   𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨   𝙝𝙚𝙧   .     (   it   reminds   her   of   the   blackjack   and   the   falcon   ,   after   all   .   )

the   fabrics   and   clothing   are   beautiful   ,   expertly   crafted   and   exquisite   from   collar   to   hem   to   sleeve   ,   though   to   one   as   . . .   simple   as   terra   ,   finding   a   favourite   proves   to   be   challenging   when   𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆   &   𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆   is   lovely   to   her   .

Eventually, though, someone else approached.

“Oh…those colors all look so nice with your hair,” spoke a tall, armored figure, the words coming out before he really thought about them.

He seemed to realize right after, however – shrinking in on himself, his shoulders rising timidly.

"I don't have time for history lessons, and I'm not askin' how to do it myself. Ain't got the hands for it. I don't care about any of that."

His arms had been in his suikan's sleeves, though now, his right arm shifted. With a moderate sounding knock, the hanyou's palm pressed something to the table. An elongated, golden rectangle, with its own special kind of energy radiating off of it. The design engraved around the characters written was a large tree blooming with sakura petals.

"厄除け お守り.

Use it to make a shirt or somethin', hell if I know. Just do it as fast as you can. Ain't got money, but I can do hard labor."

Golden eyes narrow, nose scrunching slightly.

"And if what you do doesn't work, I'm not workin' either. I'm not giving service as payment to someone who can't do what I'm fucking paying for."

Then, reaching out, he took it into his hand, calloused fingers ghosting over the metal.

Protection.

A ward against malicious energy.

A second passed, then he looked to the other - delayed, as if he’d pulled himself from some sort of deep thought.

“Talk to Rouge. The shopkeeper in the front. About payment,” he directed, ignoring the other’s doubts.

He wasn’t done there, though.

"You're the one who knows shit, how am I supposed to know what to ask? Y'think I'd have asked at all if I knew anything other than these clothes are magic?"

Not his usual reaction these days, but there was a lot of frustration going on right now. The hanyou was a lot more short tempered right now.

"If you're not gonna help me, fine. I'll take my business somewhere else. But your smartass remarks are pushin' it. This is really fucking important and I don't have a lot of time to be wasting."

“Are you asking about your clothes. Or another garment. New, or existing.”

Then, since the other didn’t seem to know where else to start-

"A lot.

A lotta what?

'Cause right now the only lot you're givin' off is a lotta stupidity."

Maybe he should have expected it. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. He wasn't exactly a talkative person, but even he could manage more than a two word response to such an important question.