Work Text:
Of course, this would have to happen today.
After being dragged about by Ronove like a child's doll all morning under the Student Council President's orders, running out of mechanical pencil filling during her least favorite lecture and having no one in class willing to lend her any due to her usual ambient stench warding them all two tables berth from her, and today of all days being a blood moon where the Student Council President declared a one bean lunch when she hadn't had time for any breakfast that morning. All that would've made a crummy enough day for Nafra.
So then, of course, it would only be natural for the universe to deliver her a finishing roundhouse kick to the pride when, after unknowingly brushing too close to a wall under repair, the fabric of her cloak caught in a crevice. The edges of which were just sharp enough that the force of her walking forward tore a jagged rip clean through the middle of the thing. With the cloth so thoroughly ripped, the spell imbued into the cloak became too damaged to hold its form together. And Nafra found herself standing in the middle of a hallway, full-sized with a cloak whose hood wasn't even big enough to hide her face. The damage done in her smaller form leaving it trapped in the state it had torn in while she was forcefully ejected back to normal size.
As soon as she realized what had happened, Nafra gasped, and immediately ducked behind the nearest potted plant. Oh of course. Of course her size changing cloak would have this happen to it today of all days. Why not?! Not as if she wanted any semblance of a good day, thanks universe.
“Gyuuu...” Nafra muttered under her breath. Well this was just perfect. Now she was caught out in broad daylight where anyone could see her. And without having any foresight to mask her scent today, anyone who saw her would clearly know it could only be her. Which would mean people would know what she actually looked like. Which would mean...
Well it would really just mean people would see what she looked like without her cloak, but she really didn't want people to have that information handy regardless.
Nafra sighed to herself, and glanced about the hallway around the plant.
Okay, this was one of the less busy times of day. Maybe if she stuck to lesser used corridors she could sneak into the Student Council Room. They usually had a variety of things in there. And she had stashed a sewing kit in there for just such emergencies. (Although she was starting to regret not just keeping it on hand... Well, whatever, no crying over spilt milk now.)
Nafra took in a breath, steeling her resolve.
It wasn't far. She could do this. Just go fast, and try not to draw anyone's attention.
With that determination in mind, Nafra darted from her hiding place. Cloak scrunched up to the lower half of her face in the event that anyone happened to pass by and see her.
“ Gya! ” Only to immediately barrel facefirst into something the moment she rounded the nearest corner. Sending her toppling straight backwards onto her behind. Nafra grunted with soreness, rubbing her backside with one hand as the other continued to hold up her ripped cloak.
“Oh dear, so sorry about that. Are you alright?”
Nafra looked upwards. And upwards. And upwards. Until finally her gaze met the apex of the giant who she had run into. And she found herself gazing up at the face of one of the teachers. Balam, she recalled. She had heard a lot of rumors about him at the start of her school year. Though apparently he had recently gained quite an upturn in reputation from what she understood. She had met him and a few other teachers during the usual Student Council rounds, so she was familiar with his face. Or at least the half of it that wasn't hidden behind a mask.
The giant of a demon bent over slightly, offering a hand out.
“Here, let me help you up.” Still uncertain, Nafra looked away from him, but took hold of his hand. With his size and strength, hoisting her up was about as easy for him as picking up a pebble from the roadside. “There you are. Are you hurt anywhere? Didn't hit your head when you fell, did you?”
“Gyuh.” Nafra shook her head, now holding her tiny, ripped cloak up to her face with both hands again.
“Oh dear. That cloak...” Nafra tensed when she realized his gaze was focused on the article of clothing. “I didn't damage it when I ran into you, did I? It looks pretty badly torn.”
“Gya,” Nafra reassured him. No need to feel bad, since it was already ripped before she quite literally ran into him. She felt a bit bad about him thinking he was to blame for that one, considering she was the one who wasn't watching where she was going.
“Well, that's a relief,” the massive teacher sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. Shorter than the start of the year, but it had definitely grown out since he'd shaved it. “Even so, the damage looks pretty severe. Magic items like that normally need special repair.” Nafra cringed. She knew that, though she'd hoped that piecing it back together with her sewing kit would at least allow her to use it as a normal, if short, cloak until she could get it properly repaired.
Balam rubbed his hand along the side of his mask, clearly thinking. Then he perked up.
“Ah, you know! As it so happens, I just received some gargantula silk in for a lecture I was going to be doing soon. Their silk is very strong, and can be used in repairing magic items.” Nafra perked up, realizing where he was going with this. “If you'd like, we can go to my prep room and I can see if I can stitch that back up for you.”
“Gya...” Nafra murmured hesitantly. As tempting as the offer was, she didn't want to just go and use up a teacher's class materials for personal reasons. It hardly felt right. But Balam's eyes crinkled kindly, and he tilted his head reassuringly.
“Don't worry about it. This repair shouldn't take up very much. Besides, I'd be more than happy if it went towards helping a student who needs it. I can always submit an order for more. So... what do you say?”
Nafra pondered, shifting on her feet as she weighed her options. She didn't know the teacher very well, and she didn't want to take up a lot of his time. But then again, even if she went her own way she wouldn't be able to get it fully repaired until later, and if he had the potential to fix it... plus she wasn't exactly the most gifted seamstress in the world…
“Ghhhh... Gyo!” She finally declared decisively. Okay. May as well!
“Ah, very good,” Balam replied. He turned towards his prep room, motioning for her to follow. “Right this way, my prep room isn't very far from here.”
Nafra immediately followed right on his tail, trailing close behind him.
–
Nafra sipped delicately at the tea that Balam had insisted on making her before starting work on her cloak. Along with a few cookies on the table, which she gratefully snacked on. Happy for something to finally give substance to her stomach. The taste of the tea was also very soothing, easing her frayed nerves from the accident.
Across from her, Balam was hard at work on the garment. It amazed her that such a large man could do such delicate work so easily. But clearly he had some experience in such matters of repair. His hands worked quickly and nimbly, the slight sheen of the silk used for repair glinting softly in the room's lighting.
“Gye.” Another quick, self-conscious thanks for the tea, and for the aid in repair. Even though it wasn't his fault in the slightest.
“Not at all, I'm more than happy to help a student however I can,” Balam reassured her again. “It's clear that this cloak is very important to you, seeing as you were in so much distress when we collided. It wouldn't do for me to let you run off without at least offering help.” Nafra just nodded thankfully once again, and sipped at the warm drink after nibbling on another cookie. “If it's not too intrusive, may I ask why you wear such a cloak? Most don't normally wear this kind of garment on an everyday basis unless they prefer to shield their appearance. And, if you don't mind my saying so, you seem like a very nice young lady.”
Nafra blushed a bit, unused to such compliments. She fidgeted with her mug, averting her eyes from him.
“Gy... Gyiii...” It felt silly to say it aloud. There wasn't really much particular reason, aside from her own self consciousness about others seeing how she looked. It felt more... comfortable, when she walked around without people really seeing her , even when they could see her. However little that may have made sense to most.
“Well, I suppose I understand a bit, in my own way.” Nafra watched Balam touch his mask, almost subconsciously. “It's sometimes... easier to give an alternative focus to what's really there.”
“Gye,” Nafra murmured, then instantly clapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Ah yes, the rumors about what lay under Balam's mask. Some great injury that apparently severely damaged his face, hidden under a single sheet of metal. “Gy-gyi!” She said quickly, wanting to apologize in case she hurt his feelings.
“Don't worry, it's quite alright,” Balam reassured her. “I've lived with this for a very long time. I'm aware of peoples’ assumptions by now... In all honesty,” he shrugged, “I mostly wear this mask so as to not disturb others with how I look, rather than being ashamed by it. I know that it can be disturbing to others who aren't accustomed to me. So I'd rather put them at ease.” He paused in his needlework, which gave Nafra a moment of hesitation. “... Perhaps I do feel a bit more at ease myself, wearing this in front of others,” he admitted softly. “But really, I've made my peace with everything.” Nafra was surprised, seeing an expression on his face that gave her the impression he'd be smiling widely if she could see his mouth. “I've met someone recently who's given me a bit more courage than before, so I'd like to try and honor that encouragement as much as I can.”
Nafra pondered these words as she took a thoughtful sip of tea. Only to realize that she had just reached the dregs of her cup.
“And, we're done.” She perked up, when Balam finally snipped his thread. He held up the garment and, to her delight, it looked as though nothing had happened to it at all, the stitches were so miniscule and neat, and the cloak was back to its normal resting size. The shrunken fabric finally filling back out to how it would usually be when unworn and unactivated. “Well, only one way to find out if this repair has properly worked.” He handed the cloak to her, which she eagerly took and tied about her neck. With a pull of the hood over her head, her body instantly shrunk down to what she was accustomed to. Small and round as a stuffed animal.
“Gya!” She cried out happily, doing a small foot-to-foot hopping dance as she celebrated the garment's repair. “Gye-gye!” She said cheerfully towards Balam, thanking him for his help.
“Not a problem, I was more than happy to assist,” Balam reassured her. “If anything else happens like this, please don't hesitate to come by again. I'd be pleased to help again.”
Nafra nodded exuberantly. Once her small celebration had died down, and both feet were planted on the floor again, Nafra pulled the hood back off of her head and faced him.
“Gy-gya-gya,” she said with a small bow. A genuine thanks for his assistance, and for the tea. And everything else they'd spoken about.
“You're very welcome,” Balam returned warmly. “Get to your next class safely, now. Have a good day.”
Nafra exited the prep room, leaving Balam to clean up the small area, politely shutting the door behind herself.
So happy was she to have her cloak back in working order that she was halfway down the hall before she had realized she hadn't pulled the hood back over her head before she'd left. She hesitated, grabbing the hood to pull it up before anyone else saw her. But then she paused.
“ I've met someone recently who's given me a bit more courage than before, so I'd like to try and honor that encouragement as much as I can.”
Nafra held onto the hood a moment longer, that one sentence ringing in her head.
Then she dropped it, letting it fall back to her shoulders.
Smiling a small smile to herself, she held the cloak around herself a bit, but didn't activate the magic. Satisfied, for the moment, to walk on to her next class without it’s altering her appearance.