Shortly after departing Imuchakk, the crew began to take note of Ja'far's various..habits. Or, rather, it was the same habit.. But it was applied to his daily routine religiously.
They noticed Ja'far was very fast. He ate quickly (without chewing), bathed for a split instant, and rather than sleep he subjected himself to frequent and inconsistent 'power naps'. None of these things were beneficial for a growing boy, at his age no less, moreover if those problematic habits had become situated into normalcy. Sinbad was determined to correct him.
Rurumu must not have been paying any particular attention to Ja'far's personal habits as it did not directly affect his external behavior nor did he feed these habits in class. Though he certainly picked up on things quickly, that obviously wasn't going to warrant any criticism from the kind woman. Sinbad, whom shared a cabin with a portion of the boys and was around Ja'far far more frequently, took notice.
"Ja'far." The day had just begun and Ja'far was seated at one of the tables in the provided 'mess hall'. At this point in time Rurumu was mostly focused on basic academics and had relented to squeeze in dining etiquette later on in their training, thus the only reason they were able to eat peacefully at this moment. Sinbad sat next to him and set his plate of food down before him.
"Shut up." he commanded habitually, then corrected himself as he must have recalled Rurumu's warnings. Though, perhaps mouthing off to the 'Lord' himself on down-time was an exception? Then again, practice made perfect and-
"You're already halfway done and I bet you've barely set your plate!" chided Sinbad, pulling him out of it evident daydream. "If you don't chew your food before you swallow, you'll never gr-"
"Don't say it!" he warned, squeezing his utensils with the expression of someone who was regretfully very aware of this fact which had been repeated over and over and over...
"But that's no good. If someone catches you eating like that, they'll lump us in as savages. You're in no rush so there's no reason to swallow your plate whole!"
"What kind of accusation is that?" he argued, "Chewing allows the poison to set in!"
"That accusation makes even less sense than mine! Who'd poison meat buns this early in the morning!"
Ja'far, stubborn as ever, returned to eating like an animal and finished up in time to gather his mess and bring it to the wash bin, dumping it in with the rest of the dirty dishes for the unlucky cabin boys to take care of later. Sinbad was unable to catch up in part to the fact that he ate at a snails pace. Or, rather, like a human being.
Later on, Sinbad caught Ja'far before a bath (something they'd been informed would be best to make a habit of regularly and whenever possible). There were buckets and barrels of soap and water scattered neatly about the allotted wash room. It was just about deserted at this time of the day because Rurumu's lessons overlapped with the typical cleansing period for the rest of the crew.
He threw the door open without warning, "I'm coming in!"
The boy was standing beside a barrel of water with a bucket heaved over his head, overturned. Water had hit his body right when Sinbad opened the door; the lower half of his body was being conserved by the barrel. His whole body shook with the surprise of wind upon having the door swung open. "I'm almost finished so you won't have to wait longer, please disappear until then!"
Sinbad was almost moved by his attempt at a polite request, "Eh, that's not fair at all. Hey, are you really almost done? You look dry!" he invited himself inside without thinking, causing Ja'far to stumble and tip backwards until he fell ungracefully, consequently knocking a bucket of suds over. This, in turn, caused Sinbad to trip and stumble and slip halfway across the room, kicking Ja'far along the way. It was an accident but it didn't stop Ja'far from seething.
"Stupid bastard! That hurt! Get out! You ruined everything!"
"Ah.. That really hurt.." Sinbad whined to himself. He was fully clothed, unfortunately. That slip would have made for a rather convenient bath. If only he were as quickly driven as Ja'far. "Hey, don't you have any sympathy? I said that hurt."
"You deserve it!" Ja'far chucked a bar of soap at his head and conked him. "Get out when other people are bathing! You'll get in the way!"
"If that's the case then you'll never grow into a man who's able to bathe at leisure, even when the baths are occupied by other people!"
"That's fine by me!"
"It's no good. It won't work for someone living adventurously and to believe otherwise will result in a smelly life..!"
"Bath-time is one of the most vulnerable times of day and should be taken seriously, bastard!"
Sinbad let out a defeated sigh and stood up, shaking off his drenched clothing, though it didn't really help. "If that's the case then I'll leave you and see you before bed, but take care to actually clean yourself or the stench of blood will never come off as long as you live!"
He left the room and the door slammed behind him as the wind picked up. Ja'far was left staring at his back and then the door throughout his departure, somewhat taken aback by the accusation.
Perhaps he'd been harsh.
Sinbad lay in the widespread make-shift bed, Vittel, Hinahoho and Mader scattered closely throughout the room under a shared blanket, open spaces available for Sin and Ja'far. Only Ja'far hadn't shown up yet and it'd been at least ten minutes since his..'intervention'.
He'd only meant to say it casually but the way it'd come out implied that he may or may not have believed that Ja'far was capable of washing the blood off his hands indefinitely. And that was far from what he'd meant, but he couldn't very well hunt Ja'far down and explain that. He'd only have to place his trust in Ja'fars ability to discern when his lord was and wasn't being serious.
That being said, he was very worried in this aspect. Another minute of brooding passed when the door finally opened and Ja'far stepped in. Silently, he settled himself in the empty space available between Sinbad and Hinahoho.
Sinbad noticed drenched hair and fresh clothes. But this was not the end of his battle.
Ja'far turned over and before he could give into sleep, Sinbad tapped him. "Hey. Ja'far."
"What? Die." Whether or not that was a habit or his graceful poise showing through remained a mystery.
"You took your time bathing right? That's a good thing, you smell like..!"
Come to think of it, he couldn't smell anything at all, but he supposed it was a result of being fresh? Did freshness smell like nothing? Either way.
"So I bathed. What the he-" he stopped himself, "..." Rurumu's lessons sunk in. Foul language was a no-go at certain times. And then he reprimanded himself because he shouldn't have to follow such idiotic rules at this time of night when nobody was present. Aside from the dumb lord.
"So I'm proud! You weren't attacked right? Let me feel your hair!"
"Fuck off!" Ja'far hissed defensively but kept his voice low in case he woke the others, swatting Sinbad's hand away. Despite the attitude he was suppressing flattery. He'd made someone proud and it hadn't had anything to do with taking another's life.
Sin persisted, "But that's not all, you have to stop being so...unreasonable! Nobody needs to move that quickly in the presence of their own home, especially where no one will attack you!"
"Shut up." he argued tiredly, but the conqueror continued.
"Home is a safe haven, you know? So you don't have to rush and in turn, nobody can hurt you in a place like this..! Not when your family is around."
"Shut up." his voice was getting lower as he sunk further into comfort. He wouldn't have worn himself out so quickly, any other day, but he'd been given quite a bit to think about in a short amount of time- on two completely opposite sides of the spectrum no less.
On one hand, he was an assassin and reminded himself of that because it was engraved in him. On the other hand, the start of a new life led to anxiousness, and excitement, and realization that he carried old habits that would need to be broken if he were to shed himself of Sham Lash entirely. There was no point in keeping alive the customs of a place that threw him away like trash.
Sinbad must have been speaking because there was noise somewhere in the room but he wasn't listening. Only catching key parts, most of which was just reassurance that he was safe here and that things were not a battlefield on deck.
Perhaps the notion of a sanctuary was more comforting than he'd initially thought. He dozed off, eventually, and dreamed of slowing himself down. Not by much; but at least long enough to gather the fresh, clean scent that he'd come to envy. The same scent that the people around him wore.
It was just a start but he wound up sleeping around 7-hours that day. He woke up on occasion, but it couldn't be helped. Some habits were especially difficult to break.