A/N: This one was a lot of fun. I've never written for any Lamia Scale characters before but it was fun following Toby's absurd logic.

"My sock is missing." Toby (Dragonshost)

Toby looked at his guildmaster. She had a sour look on her face. Granted she always looked that way, but still. He shifted in his spot. Why was he always in trouble? "I didn't do it!"

"Toby."

"Nuh-uh! Whatever it was that you're mad about it wasn't me! It was probably that bastard Yuka!"

"Toby!"

The man in question flopped on the ground. "It wasn't meeeeeeeeeee."

"Toby, shut it! I haven't even said why I called you here."

He looked up from his place on the ground, uncurling from the ball he'd formed in his tantrum. "Oh, uhhh." He sat up, cross-legged, all signs of his former crying gone. (Well, except for the thread of snot still dripping out of one nostril.) "Whatcha want then?"

Ooba sighed, her wrinkles creasing so much Toby could barely make out her mouth. "It almost pains me to say this," she admitted. "But it needs to be said. Toby...my sock is missing."

Nothing. No sign of recognition flashed across his face. The guildmaster began to wonder if he'd even heard her when suddenly he stood up, saluted, and left the room. With anyone else, she'd be baffled by the sudden behavior, but with Toby, she was just glad he didn't knock himself unconscious in saluting. Trying to predict that boy was like trying to run through a forest blindfolded–all you'd accomplish is smacking yourself silly.

Ooba wasn't even all that concerned with the sock–it was just a sock after all–but after the Grand Magic Games incident...let's just say she wanted to nip those kinds of problems in the bud early on if she could. There was no cure for idiocy, but one could always take preventative measures. No one bothered to point anything out to him last time and look where that got them.

She was about to leave the room to go find him when he suddenly reappeared in a flash. Startled, she almost fell over backward when he dumped a pile of laundry on top of her. "Wha–Toby! What is the meaning of this?!"

He pushed out his chest. "Well, madam, aren't you in luck! After that unfortunate incident with my own sock..." A single tear appeared in the corner of his eye. "I vowed never to have this happen again! So I began collecting all the lonely socks I found, promising each and every one of them that I'd find their pair...or die trying."

She peeled a bright orange sock off her face. "Toby...are you saying that you took all these socks?"

"Yep, I rescued all of 'em!"

"Where did you even find so many?"

"Here, there, anywhere really. There was one place where there were socks just everywhere."

"...You wouldn't happen to mean the guild laundry room, would you?"

Toby tilted his head. "Laundry-who-what-now?"

She groaned amidst the piles of laundry. Well, that was one unfortunate mystery solved. Lyon would be spitting mad that all of his theories were ultimately incorrect. That boy honestly thinks too hard on simple things.

"So, which one is yours? I have a lot so maybe it's more than one?" He was still on about that, oh this poor sweet, stupid child.

She hadn't the heart to tell him that he was, in fact, wearing it. On his head. Stretched out over his hair like a hat. She could no longer find the strength to break his dreams herself so she decided to do what guild masters do best; foist responsibilities onto the younger next-gen to solve.

"...Nevermind all that Toby. Let's see if we can pay Lyon a visit." She held up one of the socks, covered in cute little blue ice cubes. "I think some of these may actually belong to him."