(Ophelia)
***
It was coincidental that I acknowledged our dilapidated states that day. We were in the town with the fewest people throughout our travels, but that meant we didn't go as unnoticed as before. We were sure to draw attention—whether out of concern or pity—from the townspeople if we stayed on the main street.
Consequently, we took a thinner road running parallel to it, and the skeletal backstreet was connected to the largest avenue by a few cartilage-like alleys filled only with rodents and trash. That way, we could watch the passing of metal vehicles to Centauri and keep our sense of direction intact.
To help with our current situation, Koharu offered to look for food and supplies. She insisted that I stay behind because of my wounds, which I argued didn't affect my ability to walk by then. However, she was so adamant I took a break that she said she would lovingly grab a piece of rope from a dumpster and make a leash for me around a tree or flagpole if I didn't comply.
That was about the only time I made a vulgar joke she didn't have a retort for, and she stomped off in annoyance, leaving me to take a break upon an extravagant planter at an otherwise unremarkable intersection.
*Payback's a bitch for once.*
We agreed it was a passable landmark to locate me with its towering marble and colorful flora. The plants somehow managed to be more sprightly in their appearance than those in the surrounding fields but lacked that same magic by not being as expansive.
They surrounded a statue of a man covered in overgrown vines so that his details were obscured. What little of him I could see appeared to be a face with youthful features that made him seem as if he was around my age or a little younger. He had strong cheekbones and a sharp nose, but his eyes and lips were completely enveloped in leaves.
I figured he was a town hero or something. That was the only reason statues were erected, right? I stood up for a moment to look for a panel, not knowing anything more interesting to do while waiting for Koharu.
*Why do you take forever to do things, Koko?*
There was a plaque placed on another side of the statue, embedded between two bowls of lilies.
To remove the gunk plastered on it, I pulled one of the hand towels we found earlier from my pocket, dragging it along the front of the rock to make it readable. Streaks of black and silver became visible between grayish-brown sheets of dust and dirt.
Soon, the small, official indentions of letters appeared in white:
*KING DAEMON AUGUSTE*
*DO NOT CLEAN THE STATUE OR KILL THE VINES.*
I retracted my hand. Another one of those glassy eyes hung from a nearby building, furrowing its invasive little brow.
*Crap. I shouldn't have done that. But why can't it be cleaned? Was I seen?*
Quickly, I dropped the monochrome washrag (which was now the same tint as the dust) on the ground and moved away, hearing a faint snapping noise in the secluded intersection. I retreated to a bench across from the planter and picked up a piece of newspaper that flew in the air and was then halfway inside the drainage system.
*Nothing illegal here. Just move along.*
As I pretended to read through its wordy pages, I processed a few of the articles and images I skimmed over out of sheer boredom.
The headline was something vague about a trivia competition hosted by a princess named Roslynn. With the black and white ink, the photo was so bright that it was hard to discern her seemingly sweet features from each other, though a mention of "lavender" in the caption caught my eye.
As I glanced to my sides from behind my shield, many signs had that same likeness and name on them.
Hurried footsteps soon tapped against the concrete, crunching small pebbles together. I looked over the edge of the periodical and gave Koharu a large smile with an airy laugh.
She moved towards me with an even bigger grin, the skin around her eyes crumpling like folded butterfly wings. The way she dashed made me scared she would fall when she reached the curb, so I stood to meet her. I folded the newspaper and placed it in my pocket alongside a blue towel.
"Lia!" she shouted at first with that smile, but she then huffed, followed by the clacking of what sounded like rocks in her pocket. (Why she would have collected those, I had no idea.)
Her grin became toothless and halved. "Why'd you get up from the statue? I asked you not to."
I rolled my eyes. "All I did was walk across the road. I think a pretty statue deserves to be appreciated instead of sat on, don't you?"
*Bullshit!*
She sighed and glanced upwards, trying to feign annoyance under her happy demeanor.
"Fine, fine. But you weren't even looking at it! You were staring at those posters with the princess on them!"
I tried to respond, but she gave up on the questions.
"Okay, whatever. Look what I found!"
I hadn't even bothered to peer at her fists before she drew attention to them and raised them upwards.
*Hm? Clothes?*
I was surprised but somewhat suspicious.
"That's great!" I cheered, face alight with joy as I clasped my hands together. "But where did you get them from?"
*And don't remind me of my failed seamstress days.*
Behind the garments, she nodded her head. "I found them behind some store… Mary's or something?" She clicked her tongue. "I don't know. I can't believe they were going to throw these away, though."
While she talked, she examined the clothes, grabbing the sleeves of the shirts to spread out the scrunched fabric. It was immediately obvious why they were being scrapped.
"They're ripped."
The stitches seemed to come apart, weak threads struggling to hold everything together.
She nodded. "I can see that."
Then, she shrugged. "Well, they're ours now, I guess. Nobody else wants torn clothing."
Funny that came from her, Miss Prim and Proper. Maybe she was humbled by our trip. (I was, too.)
She handed me a pair of pants and a shirt. They came in strange styles I never saw before, and they were hardly ornate. The fabric of the pants was dark blue and rough—slim and form-fitting with numerous slits down the front. The shirt was similar with its black and red stripes and long sleeves. Its constituent textiles were sliced near the stomach, and it appeared fuzzy as if it was made of cheap fur.
I couldn't fathom how they'd protect someone from the elements well, so it seemed perfectly reasonable for them to be discarded in their wrecked state.
"Sorry," she said as I inspected the garments. "I couldn't find any underwear in the pile."
*I understand your concern, but…*
I snorted. "No big deal. I wasn't expecting much. But… where are we gonna change?"
That turned into our next issue, and we sought a cubicle for privacy. Nobody besides a pervert would have enjoyed seeing two naked women in the middle of town.
We found a concealed area behind a market with concrete walls and stripped our pajamas, hyperaware of a rusty metal door. At that point, we didn't really care about seeing each other semi-nude, and we were soon sheathed in new clothing.
The fit was a little awkward, but it worked for me—as did it for her. The odd fabrics were clean and soft against my skin as they grazed it, making me appreciative of them even more. Though, the slits became nuisances as they invited the gentle gusts in.
Koharu seemed amused. "What are you smiling about?"
"It's cute these match," I told her, flicking the fuzzy bits between the pads of my fingers when I finally noticed.
*I can't decide if this is going to make me sweat a river or freeze like a lake.*
As she toyed with her yellow and purple version of the shirt, she was haughty again.
"I was waiting for you to pick up on that."