“Unsurprisingly, biological humans find themselves at ease when making tails. The nerves and bone structure are already there, after all.”

-Yume Tokizawa, 2247, Shapeshifting Instruction Manual

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“W-what… what has happened?” Makoto uttered in total bewilderment.

“Well, dear Makoto.” I scratched my chin with the hand that had a blade for a thumb. “It would appear that the seamstress fainted upon seeing blood.”

“Really?” She frowned.

“I mean, do you have any other theories? I am all ears.” Now, if I had control over my shapeshifting this would have been the perfect moment to make my ears bigger. Alas, the comedic timing was not on my side. “I am going to raid the shop to see if she has bandages, you… put her on the ground? She’s lying her weight on her arms and that can’t be good.”

“R-roger that.” Makoto did as instructed even if uncertainty was written all over her expression.

By law, the store was required to have a medkit, however basic it was. If this was more serious, I could have just rushed out of the store and the vigilance system would have instantly detected the blood and sent medical attention in no more than a minute. I took a swig out of my flask and my body finally began healing, actually recognizing the wound now. I did my best to keep focus so the nail didn’t revert back to its original state.

The kit ended up being a barebones first aid one, which was more than enough. I just wanted the bandages to clean the blood that had spilled rather than to contain the hemorrhage.

“Shouldn’t I be able to recover the blood, though? I’m but a flesh slime, I should be able to pick up a chunk and reassemble myself.” I wiped the drops that had fallen on my tracksuit with the bandages and licked the blood from the wound. “Hmm, iron-y.”

I kept the blood in my mouth for a moment, but the proprioception didn’t kick in.

“Has it been disconnected from my body for too long?” It hadn’t even been a minute, so I doubted it. “Hmm…”

I bit the walls of my mouth with enough strength to make them bleed and led the drops of blood there.

“Ah, there it is!” As the walls of my mouth closed, I felt the lost droplets reconnect to the bigger self that was the hivemind of my pluricellular body. “Maybe because it was blood that my body couldn’t recognize it… I should ask Gloria about it.”

I wiggled my thumb-dagger. The contours of flesh and nail were bright pink but otherwise healthy. No sight of blood any longer. Every last drop was either on the bandages or back inside me.

“How’s it going, Makoto?” I returned to the back store.

“What do mean how’s it going? Lorem, she just fainted!” The raven-haired girl looked at me with incredibility. “This isn’t a story she’s not going to wake up instantly!”

“Actually,” I knelt down and uncorked my flask, putting it before Gloria’s nostrils. “These types of fainting tend to be more like lapsus rather than deep sleep.”

Gloria’s body spasmed a few seconds later.

“I think this classifies as torture and medical neglect,” Makoto said behind me.

“I can understand medical neglect, but where’s the torture coming from?” I turned my head at her.

“I dunno, just feels like it.”

“You can’t call war crimes on a hunch!” I protested.

“I definitely can.” Makoto harrumphed. “And it’s not a war crime if there’s no war.”

I was going to make a joke about ‘love and war’ but fortunately for everyone’s ears, Gloria coughed and woke up from her… 4-minute nap. Huh, she was out longer than I thought.

“Ugh…” The seamstress grabbed her head with two hands and used the other two to raise her upper body from the ground. “W-what happened?”

“You fainted,” I explained.

“I… oh, right.” She scrubbed her eyes. “Mea culpa, I guess.”

“Isn’t it weird for a tailor to faint at blood, haven’t you pinched your fingers at least once?” Makoto prodded.

“What age do you think we leave in, ojou-chan?” Gloria groaned and stood from the ground, not without dusting her dress. Not that there was any dust on the floor.

“Up to my knowledge, artisanal dress will always be artisanal.” The student remarked.

“Okay, you got me there.” The seamstress scrubbed her hair with a hand. “Truth is, my fingers are reinforced, and because they are the only part that may get hurt, I think I haven’t bled for… decades?”

Plural, at least twenty years. I took notice of her slip. This means she’s at least 45, though Jill hinted at her being way older. It was weird seeing a woman who honestly looked younger than Makoto being at the bare minimum twice as old, even if I had interacted with humans before. Not many decided to look this young, most decided to orbit around 25 and 30 in appearance. This included every category of humans, even synthetics and virtualized. Though the latter was mostly a Parallel thing.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I wish I could say the same.” Makoto sighed, and then I noticed the woman’s words may have carried a double meaning of sorts.

“Don’t worry, you won’t in a few days,” Gloria whispered to Makoto with a warm smile. “Thing is,” she swept the air before her, “I don’t do well with blood. Organs too, but those are waaaay more uncommon. But anyhow, this is enough practice for today.”

“Done already?” I frowned. “We’ve not even been twenty minutes at it.”

“Your body must be strained from the shapeshifting, even if you aren’t aware of it.” For the first time ever, I felt true seriousness pouring out of Gloria’s words. “You may be able to shapeshift muscles, but they aren’t the same as trained ones. The same thing applies to shapeshifting as a whole. Your body isn’t just trained to it, yet.”

“And how long until I’m ready?”

“Who knows?” The seamstress double-shrugged even if she only had one set of shoulders. How?? “There are a lot of factors at play. Your knowledge of the human body, your practice, your motivation, your talent with shapeshifting, your tier of evolution. In the end, all lies on you. I give it at least a week before you have enough practice for meaningful shapeshifting. And I’m being generous, most people spend a few years before doing… things to their body.”

That was the sight of a woman who had seen the true horrors of the cosmos.

Humanity’s obsession with body sculpting.

“I don’t intend to do ‘things’ to my body.” I clarified. “I’m more than happy with how I am currently.”

“Everyone says that, Lorem. Everyone.” Gloria’s eyes had never looked that dull and devoid of life before. “Just don’t toy with blood, nerves, or genitalia without my supervision.”

“I understand the two latter, but the first?”

“Changing the concentration of the blood can have really nasty side effects, death being one of them. Though someone would notice your death instantly and revive you. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck to die.”

“Have you ever died, Gloria?” Makoto interrupted.

“Me? Dios santo, no!” She chuckled. “But you see from time to time a biological or a synthetic killing themselves trying to limit test their immortality. In a way, those people are like the white cells of our body as humanity. We can reanimate people out of very little just because there are morons so stupid that even breathing without spontaneously combusting is complicated to them.”

I couldn’t deny that. I was edging that line very closely. Not that I would ever try anything that could kill myself, not even remotely close. But an arm or two was a price I was willing to play for shenanigans. And that was before I evolved. Now they literally grew out of me!

“You have the look of one of those, Lorem.” Gloria deadpanned at me.

“I won’t manipulate my blood, nor my nerves, nor my… genitalia.” A blush escaped out of me.

“Okay, I trust you!” The seamstress replied with a warm smile and a childish giggle.

“Alrighty…” These 180s of character are going to be the death of me. “If we are done here, then we’ll take our leave.”

“Leave? Lorem, you silly! Haven’t you forgotten about the other part of our deal?” Her smile no longer was that of the fairy grandmother, but the wicked witch.

“Like, right now?” I asked anxiously, pointing at Makoto with my eyes.

“Yup!” Gloria bobbed her head up and down in a cutesy succession of nods. “Come on, undress yourself!”

If my eyes opened like plates, Makoto’s busted out of her skull. “Ehm…” The student mumbled incoherently as her face became a tomato. “Lorem… what deal did you make?”

“Makoto, she’s being purposely misleading.” I pointed at the seamstress who smiled from side to side. “See? She’s just messing with you.”

Gloria covered her lips with two hands, leaving another two to sway in negation.

“Right…” Makoto didn’t sound convinced. “And you haven’t brought me to some sort of paramour roleplay, right?”

“What does that even mean?” I lead my hands to my head in utter confusion. “What the hell is a paramour roleplay?”

“Okay, you are innocent.” She sighed. “So what are you two actually going to do?”

“Oh, you know~” Gloria led her hands to her cheeks and neck. “Gakusei-kun and I are gonna…”

“I am her model,” I admitted in defeat, not letting the Japan-intoxicated woman continue uttering a single word.

“Like a mannequin?” Makoto asked.

“Like a mannequin.” I clarified.

“I mean, it’s weird, but I expected more weirdness, ya’ know?” Makoto sounded… disappointed?

“Why are you disappointed about it?” I decided to confront her, my voice coming out a pitch higher than planned.

“I mean, four hands create a lot of new opportunities…” She blushed again, though the blush was fundamentally different from the previous one.

“Aaaand you are out!” I rushed to Makoto and pushed her out of the back store. “Thanks for coming and talking, but you should take a breather, don’t you think?” I slammed the door closed, or that was my mental image as it was a sliding one. I did block it from the panel though.

“Come on, Lorem, don’t leave me out!” Makoto banged on the door and begged. “I’ll promise I’ll behave! I don’t want to be alone! I’ll be quiet! Please, please, please!”

I heard Gloria walk behind me. “You know, maybe she should stay.”

“Oh, so now I am the bad one?” I grunted.

“Considering you are the only male, yes! You are, indeed, the bad one!” If she hadn’t used that childlike tone and giggle, I might have scoffed at her. For lack of worse actions.

I scratched my brows, a useless gesture as my body didn’t itch any longer since my evolution – at least not in the normal sense – and opened the door. Makoto lingered on the other side with a pinkened fist and hints of water in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” The student's whispers were barely audible as she looked downward.

Fuck, I am the bad one. “Don’t be.” I approached Makoto and locked her in an embrace, caressing the top of her head. Even if I was the evolved one, her hair was softer than mine. “Shh…” I soothed her and she reciprocated with her own arms, tightening around my waist. Her strength didn’t feel like that of a student.

I had forgotten that in lieu of Mérida, I was the one who was supposed to protect Makoto. I shouldn’t be hurting her, no matter how much she didn’t want that protection. Makoto was ours and we were hers.

“Hmm…” Gloria circled around us, barely squeezing through the doorframe thanks to her arms, even if she was smaller than us. “You know girl, why don’t you model for me?”

“Huh?” Makoto didn’t undo the embrace but unlatched her head from my pectorals and looked at the seamstress. “Like instead of Lorem?”

“No, no.” She negated by swaying all her fours arms. “Both of you. At the same time. I’ve never made a matching outfit, or rather, a dual outfit. You know, those that merge into one another that shine only when they are together?”

Makoto nodded shyly. “I accept.”

“Perfetto!” Gloria happily clasped her hands. What was that? Italian? This woman kept changing languages and it was starting to get difficult to follow. “Now undress!”

Ah. It would seem that her offering hid an agenda and was a double-edged sword. Makoto turned into a replica of Proxima Centauri as the weight of her acknowledgment dawned on her. My favorite part was the yelp that followed.