Chapter 15: Push

Shulk wedged his way through the halls leading to the Weapon Development Lab, carrying a large pile of scrap in his arms. It would be ideal for making a new weapon for Reyn. He wasn't sure yet whether he had enough non-scrap materials available, but he figured he might as well get started with what he did have while he had some time. The fact that it was quickly approaching dinnertime didn't deter him - he wanted to get started while his motivation was fresh.

...Hang on, what's that? Shulk sniffed the air. Someone's having pizza. I wonder if they have extra? Could use some. He decided to drop off the scrap in the lab before searching out the source of the smell.

Oddly enough, the smell only got stronger as he approached the lab. It was technically against the rules to bring food into the lab, so no one ever did, but at the same time no one ever took action when Shulk inevitably did to fuel his obsessive research. And it wasn't like many people other than Shulk used the lab during mealtimes anyways.

Weird. Who could this be? Shulk elbowed the handle and pushed open the door with his back, only turning around once he was all the way in.

He wasn't sure he was seeing correctly, so he blinked hard and tried again.

Melia had set up a table in the lab composed of a large sheet of metal propped up by several crates, flanked by a pair of foam-topped Krabble shells. An open pizza box sat in the middle of the table, containing a standard-looking small pepperoni pizza with a flare hovering over it. On opposite sides of the table sat a paper plate and a can of pop. Melia was sitting on one of the Krabble seats, one hand holding her staff so she could keep control of the flare, the other holding a book she was reading.

Shulk hastily dropped the scrap on his desk, spilling some onto the floor. "Melia? What are you doing here? What's...all this about?"

Melia calmly put the book down, dispelled the flare, and smiled at Shulk. "Not long ago, you took me out for dinner in my world. I decided to do the reverse for you." She hoped he wouldn't ask why, since she didn't really know herself. It just felt like something she wanted to do, and it was easier to just do it than to try and figure out what the reason could be.

"...uhhh...well, okay." Still undecided over whether he understood, Shulk nervously shuffled over to the empty seat and sat down. He didn't want to lose the drive on Reyn's new weapon, but whatever this was seemed a good bit more important.

After waiting long enough to confirm that Shulk wasn't making the first move, Melia reached out holding a napkin to tear a slice of pizza out of the box and place it on her plate, implying he should do the same.

Shulk didn't need much more invitation; it was no time at all before he'd also taken a slice and started eating.

Melia carefully watched Shulk for a bit before awkwardly picking up her pizza, a napkin in each hand, and attempting to bite it. It took a few tries before she got the tip to stop moving around enough to grab. The texture and taste were positively novel, but not enough so to prompt a reaction; she would have to reach a pepperoni to get the full experience.

Shulk chose not to poke fun at her difficulties, but instead went for the helpful angle. "You know, you probably wouldn't have it slipping around as much if you were using your bare hands."

"...perhaps." She thought about it, but was interrupted by her next bite not making a clean slice through the cheese, leaving a long string. It took several attempts to break it and collect the remnants. "This is enough of a challenge without adding yet another layer of novelty."

"Sure looks it." Shulk went to open his can of pop - a Doctor Zest - and took a swig.

Melia decided to do the same. Or at least she tried; she had trouble getting enough force under the tab to lift it. Eventually she recoiled with a dent in her finger.

"That's one way to gatekeep your consumer base," she muttered.

"Yeah it's tricky sometimes, here." Shulk cautiously reached over to take the can. He himself had to try three times before it finally popped open. "Wow that was a real tough one." He placed it back where it came from.

Melia had reached a pepperoni, and took a slightly larger bite. It was unwantedly spicy, but not enough so to ruin the pizza overall.

Shulk figured it was time. "So how is it?"

"It is...different." She paused to think more on it. "It feels like a cousin of lasagna, with its combination of meat, cheese, and sauce. But the bready crust adds a more-"

"That's all I need to know." Shulk chomped on his own slice. "You like it enough to elaborate on, that's good enough for me."

Melia next took the newly-opened can of pop and took a small sip. It was pleasantly similar to, yet distinctly different from, the Ko-Ko Kola from Alcamoth. Drinking from a metal container was decidedly odd - true, such was the case when they had meals on the Fallen Arm, but here in Colony 9 it was somehow a wholly different sensation.

"So who helped you put this table together?" It was a question that'd been sitting in Shulk's mind since he saw the scene.

"No one."

Shulk shook his head. "Reyn couldn't lift this sheet by himself, we had to help him get it in here in the first place. Who helped?"

"Well, in one sense of the word, it would be my ether staff instructor." Melia took her staff with her left hand and summoned an earth elemental, which she mentally directed to rest on the table. "You might be surprised how much weight an earth elemental can support with minimal effort on my part. With one at each corner aside from the one I myself was holding, it was quite easy to manipulate this ramshackle table into position."

"...huh. That's pretty cool." Shulk carefully reached forward to touch the mystical cubical frame. It felt like an unnaturally smooth rock. "I think I like how its aura feels more than the others. It's...like being safe, but also...makes you feel...successful. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Absolutely. Earth carries the most complex feeling of the six elementals, and you summarised its main points quite well."

Shulk tried to pick up the elemental, but he couldn't lift it off the table; either it was too heavy for his seated position, or it simply couldn't move by someone else's hand. He let it go and sat back. "How does it work? I mean, the whole staff-and-elementals thing. I'm guessing it can't be that simple, or some Homs would have stumbled across it by now."

Melia dispelled the earth construct and chuckled. "Shulk, that question spans multiple volumes. I could not hope to summarise it in one evening."

"...I guess that makes sense." Shulk made a mental note to find a book about ether staves somewhere; there had to be a High Entia bookshop in Colony 6, and a book would probably help his learning of the alphabet better than newspaper snippets.

Melia saw no way to continue the topic and so didn't. Instead, she found herself rather enjoying the pizza, despite the hoops she had to jump though to hold and bite it. Next time, she would put serious consideration into some topping other than the standard pepperoni.

Shulk asked a question he felt he had to at some point. "So...who is Lorithia?"

Melia acknowledged the question with a nod and frown. Dickson had survived the battle surrounding Junks, so it was prudent to assume that Lorithia had as well. She took a few moments to collect a response. "Lorithia Nekudiora heads the Ministry of Research. Their purpose is primarily to investigate and develop new technologies of all sorts; to work with the ministry is a top honour for scholars and scientists. Lorithia herself is primarily an expert in the field of vehicular resonance."

"Vehicular resonance...so, how to design the crystal alignments of ether engines?"

"Exactly. In fact, she was the primary designer of my personal craft, so in a sense it's thanks to her we are able to backtrack and ferry around the Bionis at will."

"Let's rub that in her face then," Shulk suggested. "That she's helped equip us to fight her."

"That...may not be useful," Melia answered. "Without the experience of successfully heading the project, she may not have been given so much freedom in designing the Havres. She likely sees it as a necessary step in her ambitions."

Shulk couldn't disagree. "What else do you know that could be useful against her?"

"Unfortunately, not much. I have always attempted to stay clear of her haughty demeanour and self-important attitude; she is without a doubt the most irritating of the ministers." She paused for a moment. "Truth be told, I have always felt that if there were to be a traitor in the upper levels of the ministry - as unlikely as such would be - it would be her. She always seemed to know too much, and it is common knowledge that she rose through the ranks faster than anyone in recent memory. With what we know now, I would not be surprised if the seer helped hasten her promotions."

"Yeah..." Shulk's eyes wandered around. "I'd believe it. Alvis has done a lot to get us to where we are. He probably started long ago."

"That would be quite long ago for a Homs." Melia focused to recall more specifics. "I don't know Alvis' exact age, but he can be no older than thirty-five, and he only became seer twenty years ago. It would have to have been his predecessor."

Shulk rubbed his chin, seemingly dubious. "...Maybe. I still think Alvis himself would've had a hand."

Melia couldn't stop a scoff from escaping her nose. "Shulk, I don't think you realise the timescales involved here. Most of Lorithia's promotions occurred before Alvis became an adolescent. Even if he were the seer at that time, he would have very little pull outside the relaying of visions."

"Well I don't think so." Shulk took another slice of pizza. "Alvis isn't just a Homs. He's...something else, something greater. I think he definitely could've done something back then...or even before that."

"And what makes you think so?"

"He keeps appearing in my dreams."

Melia was ready to deny whatever the reason turned out to be, but it caught her off guard. "...He does?"

"Yeah." Shulk bit more cheese. "Not often, but a few times now. Saying cryptic things as he does, things that I don't think I've heard him say elsewhere. And whenever he's there, it doesn't really feel like a dream, it feels a lot more real. I'm not sure what the deal is, but I think it's not just me dreaming him up. I think he's actually talking to me, somehow."

"I wonder if that's a consequence of you both having visions," Melia considered. "All seers gain their power through the Monado - perhaps it has linked you."

"...I dunno."

The topic fell, and for a moment silence also did.

"So I feel I must ask." Melia pointed at the recently-obtained mess of scrap. "What is this for?"

Shulk didn't have to look to know what was being asked about. "Oh. Uh, well I thought Reyn could use a new weapon. A way better one than what he has, made with all the new experience and materials we've built up recently. Dunno yet if I have what I need, but figured I'd get started so I could find out. Actually...I wonder if anyone else could use a new weapon too. Riki maybe, he loves getting new biters, and they don't have to be perfectly balanced or anything. Dunban's a bit picky, he'll come to me if he wants something. Sharla's probably fine with that new gun from Gadolt's parts." A thought occurred to him. "How hard is it to make an ether staff?"

Melia knew more about staff composition than construction, but it was enough for an answer. "It is as much an art as a science. A perfectly-crafted staff is useless if its composition, core, and practitioner do not align in spirit."

"They're mostly wood, right?" Shulk's eating slowed down as he started staring off into the distance. "Wood with their catalyst embedded inside. So it'd be mostly carving rather than construction."

"Wood is preferred over metal, yes. Metallic staffs tend to be inflexible and more defensive than offensive."

"Oh so that's why you never liked using the anti-Mechon staffs, because you didn't like how they felt."

"That is a lesser reason. The true reason is that staffs are..." Melia tried to find the right way to put it. "They have a notion of loyalty and honour. Using an unfamiliar staff recently found or manufactured will never give better results than one of strong personal and family history. Sometimes it's said they have a mind of their own, that they choose the user as much as the user chooses them."

Shulk nodded contemplatively, a large smudge of sauce on his face. "That staff's a royal treasure or something, right?"

"Indeed. The Imperial Staff is not primarily a weapon, but a ceremonial tool handed down through the ages for longer than history records. Every emperor that has ever lived has held it, though precious few have used it for more than a handful of rites."

"Pretty cool that something that isn't a weapon can still be used like one just as well. It's not like a...uh, the judge's short hammer thing, where it kind of looks like a weapon but really isn't one. Imagine how much stronger it'd be if you were supposed to fight with it."

Melia took a drink of her pop; she was starting to get used to the sensation of drinking from a can. "There are legends of a similar staff, the so-called Emperor Staff, carried as a weapon of war rather than a ceremonial tool. But if such legends are true, it has been lost for quite some time."

Shulk cleaned off his face and sucked the results off his finger. "What kind of stuff is that staff used for then? Anything you've been part of?"

"When the emperor chooses which of his heirs he wishes to succeed him, the first and most important step of the process is to accolade them with the Imperial Staff." She paused with intent to decide how to continue, but she drew a blank. The memory of her father lowering the staff upon her shoulders had surfaced, mere hours after returning from Makna Forest, and it was quite distracting. How much had he known at that point? He knew of his imminent death, but was he also aware that the Telethia event was to happen within her lifetime? Or even within the year? Did he know he was selecting the last empress?

"...Melia? You okay?" Shulk leaned forward a bit. "You look a bit misty."

Melia closed her eyes and violently shook her head, trying to squeeze or whirl the tears away. "I am fine. I was distracted by a thought."

Shulk didn't buy it and decided to not let it get away. "Why do you have to stop yourself from crying? It's just me in here, no one else is going to know."

"It...is improper," Melia began.

"Forget that," Shulk bluntly interjected. "People cry because it makes them feel better. You don't want to just stay miserable, do you?"

The urge to break down and let it happen was strong, but Melia continued to resist it. "My emotional detachment is my strength. It protects me from foolish decisions and keeps me focused in desperate times."

"Do you really think that?" Shulk was now staring at her quite solidly. "Because I'm pretty sure your emotions are your greatest strength. They make you take action when we're all too indecisive and drive your arts to new heights. I think if you stopped being so stoic in battle, we'd be unstoppable."

"Have you forgotten your desperation to keep me alive after I overstepped my role while we fought Jade Face?"

"Have you forgotten how your anger caught Mumkhar off guard at Valak Mountain?"

"You conflate anger with opportunism and normalise a poor strategy."

"It wouldn't be a poor strategy if the team worked around it. Yeah we're pretty good how we are right now, but maybe a super-powered ether attacker surrounded by defenders is something to at least try."

"I see no reason to squander our current party chemistry for an overcentralised strategy." It didn't feel good to argue with Shulk like this - especially with the urge to cry still hovering high - so Melia tried to stop countering and instead toned down the intensity.

It looked like Shulk was deciding whether to continue the debate. Melia remained on edge, tense with anxiety that he would keep going. She wanted to just drop the subject so the many emotions swirling around had a chance to die down, so she went to pick up her pizza.

"How many other wasted talents do you have?"

There was silence for a few seconds.

"YOU DARE TO CLAIM I AM WASTING MY TALENTS?!"

Shulk was bowled over backwards off his seat by a flash of light and sound as if a barrel of gunpowder had been set alight. An angry aura blazed across Melia's body as she suddenly stood in the air over her seat, much like her burst aura but redder in colour and sharper in texture, with the strongest glow over the area where Meyneth's chestplate once sat.

"I AM THE MOST ACCOMPLISHED ETHERMISTRESS THAT HAS BEEN SEEN IN EONS, WITH A COMMAND OF THE ARTS THAT DEFIES THE KNOWN LAWS OF PHYSICS TO A DEGREE UNRECORDED IN HISTORY! FOR THESE UNPRECEDENTED TALENTS TO BE PLACED ON ANYONE BUT ROYALTY WOULD BE THE TRUE WASTE! YOU AREN'T SPECIAL! YOU'RE A NOBODY WHO LUCKED INTO BEING IMPORTANT! EVERYTHING SPECIAL ABOUT YOU CAME OUT OF THE MONADO! I LEARNED EVERY ONE OF MY SKILLS AND POWERS THE HARD WAY, THROUGH INTENSE TRAINING AND SUFFERING! I...SUFFERED...suffered...so greatly to...to become..."

The energy quickly vanished. Melia fell to the floor as the aura faded, now suddenly crying into her folded arms.

"...to become a nobody...to have my talents save no one...talents wasted on...on an empty empire..." The rest of the words dissolved into blubbering across the floor.

Shulk didn't know what to do. He knew he should probably supply some form of emotional support, but he didn't really have any idea where to begin.

Well, he had one idea. He wasn't confident in it helping matters, but it was worth a try.

He cautiously walked over to Melia's side of the table, sat down beside her on the floor, and laid his arm across her shoulders.

Well...she's not complaining, struggling, or locking up. So at worst it didn't change anything.

Shulk sat and waited for the crying to stop. It took a few minutes, but it eventually began to subside, turning from blubbering to sniffling and finally into silence. He counted about a minute after that and removed his arm.

About ten seconds later, Melia slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes and face. "Shulk...I-"

"I don't care what you said," Shulk cut in. "I don't care whether you meant it or it's true or whatever. I care about how you got mad and took a stand, and used it to find something Meyneth left behind. That's the emotion I was looking for. It's not a weakness, it's a tool. We can't rely on it but we shouldn't ignore it either."

Melia closed her eyes and looked down to the floor. She didn't see it that way at all. She'd lost her composure and gone off on a damaging rant that Shulk would only be able to simply brush off if he'd ignored the whole thing. If this had been a battle, perhaps she would've done quite a bit of damage to the enemy, but unless it happened to be the finishing blow it would almost certainly be hard for her to stay alive afterward.

Shulk waited for another few seconds before standing up. "C'mon, let's finish dinner." He held out his hand.

"...Yes, of course." Melia accepted the help, taking Shulk's hand to stand up.

The two silently returned to their seats and resumed their half-finished slices of pizza.

Shulk didn't want the silence to last very long, so he quickly cast his mind around to find a positive topic of discussion. "So how much staff experience do you have?"

Melia did quick math. "Over twenty-three years." She appreciated the quick turnaround to stop dwelling on what had just happened.

"Oh wow. Is it that hard to learn, or did you just start early?"

"A little of both. My training began five years ahead of schedule, and I have needed every day of it."

Shulk's face scrunched up as he went through the opposite math. "So...you started at sixty-five, but were supposed to start at seventy? So that would be...uh...somewhere in the early-middle part of teenager-ness?"

"That...depends on how you define the term, I suppose. We see it as the middle of adolescence, but as a strict comparison to the Homs' "teenager", it would be early."

"Yeah. I don't really know how to compare that to me, I never did any official training, I just kind of started carrying a sword one day, and learned some arts that worked well with Reyn's. Don't even remember when really...it must have been early, since Reyn knew Hammer Beat when he was nine, and I-"

"Nine?" Melia couldn't stop herself from interrupting; it was too unbelievable. "Reyn had command of an aggressive gunlance art at the age of nine?"

Shulk nodded as if it was nothing. "Yep. Might have been ten, it was close to his birthday, don't completely remember but it was around there. He was using half an old polearm at the time, not a gunlance. He was real serious about it too, whenever he'd show it off he was real careful about doing everything right and not hurting anyone. Fiora got jealous that Reyn knew a battle art and started pestering Dunban to teach her one, while I went off to learn one by myself. A few months later we'd both managed to cobble together a shaky pair of sneak-from-behind attacks. You can imagine the kind of trouble we got into after that."

Melia couldn't really; she knew nothing about the youthful exploits of normal children aside from the bits and pieces she was told as past stories. It was still hard to believe any of the Homs could have successfully learned offensive battle arts before adolescence.

Shulk looked back into the pizza box, trying to decide whether he was hungry enough for another piece. He'd already had three slices, and Melia was finishing her second, so there was one remaining. After some consideration he decided to leave it, planning to reheat it for a snack later while working on Reyn's new weapon.

The plan was foiled as Melia reached out to take the last piece for herself. They were both somewhat surprised about it; Shulk that she liked it enough to do so, and Melia that she was hungry enough for it.

A new question occurred to Shulk. "So...why the gloves?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, why do you wear gloves all the time? Is it a preference, or some sort of rule?"

It was something Melia hadn't thought about for a long time. "Well, I suppose it began as a rule, and as I became used to it, it grew into a preference. I was too young to remember the reason why it was ordained, but my best guess is as protection against fingernails being damaged."

"You mean chewed?" Shulk half-looked down at his own fingernails, chewed to the nubs.

"...That is one possibility." She suspected it was the most likely reason, but didn't want to admit it. "Another would be protection against dirt and debris being stuck underneath, which is certainly the major reason why I continue to do so today."

"What about how long they are? Protecting against elbow scrapes too? Why not just have sleeves?"

Melia huffed. "If I had the ability to select proper clothing, I absolutely would. But for whatever seemingly-undisseminable-"

"Whoa whoa whoa." Shulk cautiously waved a hand; he didn't want a repeat of the outburst a few minutes ago. "Why can't you just go out and buy clothes? No one's going to stop you."

Melia's first instinct was that her father would never allow it, but of course this was no longer true. Her second reply was that, contrary to how bitter she had made herself seem about it, she didn't feel like her wardrobe was bad enough to warrant the effort. But this wasn't really true anymore either, since all her clothes were now inaccessible in a ruined city. "Inaccessible" was somewhat hyperbolic, as the idea of going back to get them had been rolling in her mind for a while now, but for the moment it was true.

So, she went with the third answer that came to mind. "I have always been tailored for. Buying clothes has simply never been something I've thought of doing."

Shulk tilted his head and nodded slightly. He seemed to be thinking of something.

Melia found the remaining third of her pizza slice getting cold, so she summoned a flare and held it close by for a time.

"Cheater."

She glanced at him. "Do you have a better idea for conveniently reheating food?"

"No I'm just being silly." Shulk dangled one last drop of pop out of his can. "And I don't mind pizza that's only warm, it's kind of a pain to eat when it's fresh hot. Not cold right out of the fridge though, I don't understand why Reyn thinks that's okay."

"Reyn certainly has...unique culinary preferences." With the pizza sufficiently reheated, Melia dispelled the flare and continued eating.

"Speaking of that, why'd you decide to just get pepperoni? Didn't like any of the other stuff they had on the list?"

"I decided that it would be best to try the most traditional style of pizza first. Perhaps next time, I will experiment with other toppings."

Shulk tried to figure out a nice way to say that he probably wouldn't enjoy a pizza with fruit on it, but couldn't come up with anything. At least if there was a next time, she was likely to ask him rather than surprise him, and he could say so then, so they could put the fruit on one half and-

"...sneeze coming." He turned away from the table for a few seconds before it arrived, and it left a mess over the back of his hand. "Ugk. Hang on." He hurried to another room, presumably to wash his hand(s).

Melia used the moment of silence to reflect on the evening as a whole. Aside from her uncharacteristic outburst, it had gone fairly well; certainly worth the effort of putting the table together and feeling through the pizza ordering process without help.

Shulk returned after about a minute, deciding to hover around the table instead of sitting back down. The moment Melia had finished her pizza and put down her empty can of pop, he moved in. "All right, let's go. Should still have at least an hour before the shops close."

Melia didn't have any idea where this came from. "Go? Where?"

Shulk took Melia's wrist and pulled her up and out of the lab. He was leaving the leftover mess of the meal behind, but he'd clean it up later. (Well, that's what he always told himself anyway.)

"Shulk, wh-" Melia dodged someone walking the other direction. "Where are you taking me?"

"Where are we going?" Shulk rephrased the question. "That's a surprise."

Generally speaking, Melia disliked surprises, but she supposed that whatever it was was at least in good faith by someone she trusted.

It took a bit of distance for the walk to settle from "one person pulling the other" to "two people walking hand-in-hand", with it transitioning slowly enough that neither really noticed. Not long after, the pair reached the colony's commercial district.

After a double-take or two, Shulk found the desired shop and ushered the two inside. "Okay, here we are."

It was a clothing shop. "Olivia's" was somewhat small, but primarily because most Homs preferred either cheaper stores or clothes they made themselves. It wasn't exactly high-class compared to Alcamoth, but it had a fair selection of both practical and fancy garments.

"Probably not what you're used to," Shulk went on, "but you should find something you like."

Melia's first impression was that mistakes were about to be made. Having always been tailored, she didn't know her size, and didn't particularly want to be touched by strangers trying to figure it out.

...well, I suppose the worst that can happen is buying something I'll never wear, which seems disappointing but not altogether bad.

She apprehensively started moving through the shop, with Shulk following. Nothing stood out from the crowd; her mind merged everything into an indistinct blotch of fabric, and she couldn't see the trees in the forest. There was too much choice for someone used to having zero choice.

Shulk let her wander for a few minutes before determining that she was clueless and needed guidance. What was she whining about again? It was because...I mentioned sleeves, yeah. So how about a sweater?

He waited for her to pass by a table of sweaters and took one, a purple women's medium with yellow and pink stripes on the cuffs similar to his own sweater. He then playfully tossed it over her head.

"Aaaaahh!" Melia was suddenly blind with a fuzzy weight on her sensitive wings. She scrambled around in confusion and panic for a moment before managing to pull the sweater off her head.

"Uh...sorry about that," Shulk said sheepishly. "Didn't think you'd react like that."

Melia didn't answer, but had opened up the sweater and was looking it over. It was strangely appealing, and it took a moment to figure out why: it was complete. Full-length, full-breadth, high collar, no exasperatingly-placed windows. Not counting her nightgown, it had been many years since she'd held a single piece of clothing with such complete coverage - it was a decree that "the child princess shall bare no skin", but the moment she became an adult, her wardrobe had been replaced with one that always seemed expressly designed to advertise her body. Many of the clothes in the shop were similarly "complete", but without having one picked out of the herd she hadn't realised it.

Of course, there was one reasonably major issue with it. "...How would one put this on?"

"Uh, well...um..." Shulk realised that pullovers probably didn't exist in High Entia clothing for obvious reasons, so Melia not only didn't know how to put them on, she might not even be able to. "You...uh..." It took some time to articulate the steps he'd been doing unconsciously for years. "You put your...uhm, your arms and head in at the same time, and...er...finish putting your arms in the sleeves next, and then pull the collar down around your head. Or maybe you can do your arms completely first and head after."

Melia carefully began the process, choosing the second option. It wasn't hard to sleeve her arms first, but once she put the torso over her head things got awkward; her headdress and left wing popped out fine, but her right wing jammed on the collar. It took a few unwantedly delicate movements in the dark to pull it free.

With the sweater where it belonged, a mix of foreign sensations surged forth, and she took a moment to let them sink in. The lack of exposed skin was an even greater relief than expected - it was like she was finally insulated from the world, and she didn't have to see the ether burns on her chest. The material was a fair bit heavier than she was used to, but for some reason she found it very comforting, to have a slight extra weight spread across her body. And the bulky folds did an excellent job of rendering her most disliked features almost invisible.

Shulk looked down at how the sweater mostly enveloped Melia's hands and skirt. "A size too big, huh. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, I did grab a medium."

"Nnn...nno, this...this is fine," Melia answered weakly, distracted. She held up a hand and watched the cuff slide down to the middle of her palm. Having always been tailored, it was a surreal feeling to wear something obviously too big for her, and the extra weight and folds were making it more of a desirable mismatch than an awkward one.

"Are you sure? It looks real big on you."

Melia searched for an excuse to not try a smaller item. "It...was challenging enough to don this size. A collar any narrower would be very difficult." It was true; trying to get her head through a smaller collar would likely be a very uncomfortable squeeze.

Shulk's head tilted. "Well...if you say so. Must mean you like this one then."

"It...I..." The right words weren't forthcoming; the set of new sensations was hard to overcome. "It's...different. So much more different than I could have expected. Yet...despite being so different, I find no issue with it, but rather...there is something about it that..."

"Sounds good enough to me," Shulk interrupted. "Want to look for some pants, or just this for now?"

Melia had not worn non-armoured pants in...she didn't even know if she ever had. "...yes, pants." She set off to find some, now slightly more excited than shell-shocked.

It was not difficult to find a pair of loose-fitting corduroy pants, coloured a plain dark blue. Melia put them on with surprising ease. They did not reach past her ankles in the same way the sweater did her wrists, but they had a similar bulky and floppy fit, obscuring her body's silhouette almost entirely.

Shulk nodded in generic approval. "Yeah, that's...it works. You...uh..." He tried to figure out how to say it in a way that couldn't be taken wrong. "It looks a lot more...erm...natural. If, if that makes sense."

It didn't make sense, but Melia didn't really care about Shulk's opinion. "I will most certainly be purchasing these. They are quite enjoyable to wear."

Removing the clothes was trickier than putting them on, but after a moment both the sweater and pants were folded back up and carried to the front of the store.

The cashier, a tall middle-aged man, looked down at Melia and her selections with curiosity. "Hi. Did you find everything okay?"

"Yes." Melia wondered whether the curious look was because of the oversized choices, or because she was a High Entia buying Homs clothes; no one in Colony 6 bought clothes from another race's shops, and there were few if any High Entia in Colony 9.

"That will be 176G, miss."

Melia paid quickly. It occurred to her that it might have been amusing to force Shulk to also buy something outside his comfort zone, such as a Reyn-like muscle shirt, but it was too late. Maybe another time.

"Here you are. Have a nice evening." The cashier handed her a filled bag.

"Thank you."

It was cooler outside than earlier; a new wind was coming through.

It looked like Shulk was thinking about something, and it came out after a few steps. "It's kind of weird to think about, a people with no pullovers or hoods."

"Actually, we do have hoods. They have separations donned around the wings that fasten up around them. They're certainly uncommon however, as many find them uncomfortable."

"...hm, okay." Shulk tried to visualise the description. "Man, having wings on your head just sounds like a pain."

Melia thought about it for a moment. "You are not wrong. Not many High Entia believe that flight is a worthwhile pursuit, and even fewer put in the continuous effort to keep themselves in such physical condition, so in the end our wings are rarely much more than an obstructive decoration. But a Nopon would never wish to lack a tail. As much as it is at times inconvenient, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shulk nodded, still apparently thinking hard. "I want to ask how they feel, but you probably can't describe it because to you that's just how it is."

"Indeed."

The two walked for a few more moments before it became obvious to Melia that Shulk couldn't drop whatever he was thinking about; he continued to stare into the distance with a somewhat closed face.

"What's wrong, Shulk?"

"Huh? What?"

"You look highly conflicted on some issue."

"Oh. ...well, yeah." He took a slow breath. "You looked cold in this breeze, so I wanted to dunk the new sweater on you, and say something like "you've bought it, this is what you use it for". But I couldn't figure out how to do it. Not "how" I guess, but...how to do it in a way that...you wouldn't whack me for it halfway through, because I saw how much you panicked when I just dropped it on your head earlier."

"...I see." Melia was now also conflicted. She wanted to give Shulk an explicit go-ahead to have his fun, but she also remembered the first incident and would rather not have a recurrence. Still, the fact that Shulk didn't just do it without warning showed that he recognised and remembered her discomfort, and cared about not repeating it.

I suppose it can't be any more upsetting than anything else that's happened this evening. "You may..."dunk" me."

"Huh?" Shulk didn't expect to hear this; he turned around too fast to avoid tripping over himself and almost completely lost his balance.

Melia stepped back from the whirling arms and started to fish the sweater out of the bag. "I give you permission to execute your tomfoolery."

"...oh." He looked down at the sweater now being held out. "Y-you sure?"

"To be honest, no, I am not sure. But I believe it is the correct thing to do." Melia had planned to stop there, but the thought continued. "If I do not allow you to act as you wish, how shall I ever know who you are?"

Shulk thought about it for a few seconds before replying. "Why would I do something that I know would upset you?"

Melia lost her train of thought. The plan had been to say something about not wanting to make him feel like he had to watch his step around her, but from the sound of it, he'd made that decision on his own and felt no regrets about it.

"...I don't know." She turned back towards the lab and started re-folding the sweater. "I am simply used to others not caring about upsetting me, I suppose."

She held the bag open and dropped the sweater into it.

...hm? She didn't feel it land in the bag. She had been looking where she was going, so maybe she missed and it fell on the ground. She stopped and turned around to look down for it.

The moment she finished turning around, Shulk dunked her. He'd snatched the sweater as she dropped it and now caught her in it like a butterfly net, quickly and smoothly enough that her head popped out without much discomfort at all.

"Aaaaahh!" Melia's instinct was to raise her arms in self-defence, but they were pinned in the sweater's torso and only bent halfway. The bag, still with pants inside, dropped at her feet.

Shulk smirked. "I had to regain the element of surprise."

Melia had trouble coming up with a retort; she was too conflicted about whether to be mad or amused. After a few seconds she gave up on either and drooped idle.

"Ah c'mon." Shulk picked up the bag and nudged Melia's shoulder. "Don't you like being warm?"

"It's not...it's..." She considered for a moment before deciding to state a true reason for her discomfort. "I am not used to being touched by others."

"Oh. Right." He took a step away. I guess dunking a sweater on her is a lot more...um, "in there" than just holding hands.

"That doesn-" No, don't say that. Shake head, look away, start walking again, pretend it never happened. And start trying to get arms out of this thing.

Shulk matched step and completed the sentence. "That doesn't mean you want me to stop?"

Melia twitched a bit. She couldn't just leave it unanswered, but both "yes" and "no" were wrong.

Shulk hopped ahead a bit so he could turn and face her better. "What'd you say just a bit ago, something about not knowing me if I can't do what I want?"

Why must you be so contradictory? He was right, of course, which made it all the more frustrating.

"I can't just be like that, though." Shulk fell back into walking beside her. "I'm excited to do things with someone that I never really knew I wanted to before. But you need more time to get used to the idea. So we have to split the difference, bug each other enough to get used to it, but not so much that it's a problem."

"...yes, you're right." Thinking about it, it was pretty much a continuation of what he'd done so far anyway, starting in Makna Forest so long ago - pushing into her personal space just enough to find out how they could best work together, and always apologising whenever he went too far. With that in mind, it seemed reasonable enough to conclude he would continue to respect her limits.

"So, do you need some help with your arms?"

Melia sighed; she'd had no success thus far getting them out of the sweater's torso, and was tired of the awkward walk she'd been doing in the meantime. "Yes."

"Okay. I'm going to lift up the waist, so you can get sleeved properly." Shulk placed the bag on the ground and turned to stand in front of her. "Ready?"

Melia took a moment to prepare for the strange feeling and nodded.

Shulk carefully took hold of the sweater's loose waist, wiggled it upwards until it was level with Melia's shoulders, and held it there.

It took a few seconds for Melia to get past the patent absurdity of the situation. Her boyfriend, which by itself was a mythical pair of words not too long ago, was holding a Homs garment in a convenient position for her to don properly mere minutes after having intentionally improperly slapped it on her for amusement. After wrapping her head around it, she quickly moved to stick her arms up into the sleeves.

Shulk let go almost immediately and stepped back, letting the sweater fall back into place.

He then decided to quickly change the subject as he resumed the pair's walk back to the lab. "So I heard you like books."

Melia took a moment to follow the change in topic. "You could say that. I have found much artful inspiration in novels lately, in fact."

"Could you remind me to lend you one tomorrow then? I'd do it tonight but...uh, I haven't found it yet, and I want to get that weapon for Reyn started."

"You haven't found it?" You don't keep all your books in the same place?

"Well, I thought I knew where it was, but then I remembered I moved it somewhere else when...maybe half a year ago because some new equipment came to the lab and we needed the room? So now I need to check a few places. Say, what are you reading right now?"

"The Armu, the Witch, and the Wardrobe."

Shulk's face creased. "...That sounds familiar."

"That would not be much surprise. It is heavily-rumoured to originally be a Homs work."

"Yeah...I think I've seen the movie." Shulk thrust out his chest and spoke in a deeper voice. "Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, witch. I was there when it was written."

Melia chuckled at the impression. "That sounds about right. So what book were you thinking of lending me?"

"It's called The Saga of Mata Nui. It...well, I guess I shouldn't say anything if you're looking for inspiration, or that might ruin it."

"Indeed."

The two approached the entrance to the lab.

Shulk handed Melia the bag with her new pants in it. "So...are we done here, or are you sticking around?"

"Er..." Melia didn't have any plan for when or how to end the night; all she'd had in mind was the pizza. "I...would like to return to the room and read. Speaking of it has renewed my interest."

"Makes sense. See you later." Shulk disappeared down the hall. Now, where is that book...

Well that was abrupt. And probably much better than any other potential ending, no awkward send-offs or anything.

Melia began to return to Dunban's house. The evening had turned out quite different then the simplistic dinner she'd envisioned, but aside from her unexpected outburst, nothing about it had been any worse than temporarily uncomfortable. Maybe one day, after Zanza had been defeated, this sort of thing could become commonplace. It certainly seemed like both of them had enjoyed it.