(A/N: Chapter 4 and still no reviews...

Not sure why I'm even updating the story at this point, but hey, fingers crossed.)

—

"Chapter 26: Modern Clothing vs. Traditional Apparel: Changes in Robes Through the Ages," the book in front of me said. I had read chapter 26 at least a dozen different times, but there was one frustrating passage in it that was proving incredibly hard to translate into English notes. The particular book I was studying that day was the thinner of the two I'd brought with me, and also happened to be written entirely in Khura'inese. Now, having grown up in Khura'in, I'd already been taught the language for the purposes of ceremonies, although I was still far more fluent in English. The problem with the book was that it used quite a few Khura'inese-specific words that didn't really translate into any English words I knew of, and my notes were supposed to be readable to the general public of both Khura'in and the U.S. In fact, Nahyuta had specifically asked for them that way.

I love your noble aspirations, brother, but they're proving to be incredibly inconvenient for me right now. I sighed, reread the intro to the chapter for the twelfth time, tapped my pen on the book, and glanced at the clock. Thank goodness, it's almost noon. It was only my third day of watching over Pearl while she trained, and already noon had become my favorite time of day (except perhaps my lunch break).

Somewhat impatient and deciding it couldn't do any harm, I started to pack up early, grabbing my notebook and pen and also a coat off the back of my chair, since it had gotten slightly chilly and would probably only be colder outside. I didn't love wearing coats, but I still didn't have enough money for regular heating. I made a mental note to invest in a space heater soon.

Walking the usual route to the training spot, I was suddenly surprised to hear a quiet singing up ahead. I paused in my tracks and quickly pinned the voice down as Pearl's, who didn't seem to be aware that I was nearby. I listened with amusement as she sang to herself, sounding very happy to be doing so.

"I'm Mister White Christmas, I'm Mister Snow…" She placed down her candles as she went, apparently having decided to set up early. "I'm Mister Icicle, I'm Mister Ten Below!"

I debated to myself whether or not to alert the girl of my presence. I didn't wish to scare her, but I was also rather proud of myself for knowing the song, even if it was completely mainstream. I wasn't usually aware of popular stuff.

"Friends call me Snow Miser, whatever I touch…" the girl continued to sing. "Turns to snow in my clutch! I'm too much!"

"She's Mister White Christmas, she's Mister Snow…" I continued in a sing-song voice, coming out into the clearing. Pearl yelped and spun around, apparently embarrassed I'd caught her singing.

"M-Mr. Apollo! Sorry, I didn't know you were here yet!" she exclaimed.

"I didn't know you'd be here yet, either. You have a lovely voice," I laughed. "It's not quite snow weather, but it is rather cold out, huh? Fitting song choice."

"O-oh," she stammered, blushing a little, "Thank you. I-I don't like singing for other people, but I'm glad I sounded okay."

"I wouldn't have told you that you did if you didn't," I said with a shrug. "I assume you're ready to go?"

"M-hm," was the girl's only response, and she stepped into the river and took her place under the waterfall. I was still shocked that she wasn't affected at all by the cold water, especially on a day with wind chill.

Training was more or less the same as it had been previously, with the addition of the extra wind provoking occasional slight shivers. I was grateful for the routine, however; it meant that Pearl wasn't trying anything incredibly dangerous, which would have meant more work for me along with the obvious possibility of someone getting hurt.

"Oh, darn."

I jumped, startled at the sudden voice. Pearl had only just begun training, and she never talked during it.

"What is it?" I asked. "Is something wrong?"

"The wind blew the candles out," she sighed, walking over to a candle that was indeed unlit. I blinked.

"Oh. I hadn't even noticed. Um… how could you tell with your eyes closed?" I asked.

"I couldn't start a conversation with the spirit I was trying to contact. I could sense some sort of displeasure and a feeling of being disrespected, and then I figured out what had happened," she replied with a sigh. "This isn't the first time this has happened." She took the lighter back out from her basket and re-lit the candle, only for another wind gust to immediately kick up and blow it back out.

"Wow. I had no idea," I said, and then realized I should probably write down the newfound information. I scribbled on my notepad as Pearl kept fighting back and forth with the wind in her candle-lighting battle.

"It's no use," she sighed after a few minutes. "I guess talking to spirits is a no-go today."

"Does that mean you won't be able to train until the weather is better?" I asked, disappointed.

"Well, there are other forms of training—" Pearl started, but was cut off by a sudden wail from somewhere nearby. We exchanged worried glances and immediately rushed off to the sound of the noise, fearful that something terrible had happened.

Right on the outskirts of the village, we came face-to-face with a little boy I was unfamiliar with, who was sniffing and looking very upset.

"Are you okay?" Pearl asked the child anxiously. He couldn't have been much more than six years old.

"M-my kite got st-stuck in the tree," he sniffled, wiping his nose on his long coat sleeves. Tears had already welled up in his tiny eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Pearl said gently. "Can you show me what tree it got caught in? Maybe we can help you get it down."

I had to admit, I was impressed with her patience and immediate kindness. I was rather annoyed at the boy for making us worry that something horrible had transpired, but logically I knew that Pearl's reaction to the situation was better than mine. The boy probably hadn't meant to cause any trouble.

"Th-that one," the boy said, pointing to a tree right next to where I was standing. I glanced up and saw a streak of red through the gaps in the leaves, but there wasn't any visible string that was hanging within reachable distance.

"I-I don't wanna bother you," the boy said, wiping his eyes. "I can try an' climb it if you can't reach it…"

"I don't think that's a great idea. That doesn't look like a very sturdy climbing tree," I advised. "There aren't any branches at a lower distance that you could use to get to the higher ones."

"Maybe I can put him on my shoulders, then," Pearl offered, and stooped down so the boy could climb on her back. She wobbled over to the tree, looking so off balance I was almost afraid she was going to fall. I stayed close in case something happened.

"Try reaching for your kite now," she instructed, and the boy stretched his arms out as much as they would go, but to no avail. He was still a good distance away from the kite, and it was positioned so that he'd have to reach through a branch in order to snatch it. I wasn't even sure how the kite had gotten that badly tangled in the first place.

Poor kid's got about as much bad luck as I do, I thought sympathetically. I'd forgotten about being annoyed with the boy and now felt rather bad for him, especially since he seemed like he felt like an inconvenience, which hit a little too close to home for me.

"Mr. Apollo, you're taller than me," Pearl pointed out, helping the boy off her shoulders. "Maybe you can help him?"

"We still wouldn't be tall enough," I said with a frown. "And the way that branch is covering the kite, I don't think anyone standing on anyone's shoulders is going to be a great idea. Somebody would have to lean way over, and that'd only result in catastrophe." I sighed and stared at the trapped red object disdainfully. "It looks like we'll have to go get a ladder."

"Um, don't you mean a stepladder?" Pearl asked slightly nervously. I blinked.

"Yea… Same thing…" I said, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"W-well, actually, there's a difference…" she mumbled, averting her gaze from my eyes. The little boy looked on with an incredibly confused expression as my eyes grew wide and my voice suddenly took on an incredibly serious tone.

"No… Don't tell me… you're one of them?!" I whispered in shock.

"Y-yea, sort of," Pearl replied, fidgeting with a hanging strand of hair.

"You're on Team Stepladder?!" I cried. The boy now seemed completely lost, but my focus was elsewhere. "But— but— Ms. Fey is—!"

"On Team Ladder, I know," Pearl sighed, sounding like she was talking about a fallen soldier. "I used to not really see the point of the whole debate, but I guess I was always kind of on her side, at least until Mr. Wright explained to me the importance of… Hey, wait a second. Mr. Wright is the one who told me how important it was to call things by their proper names— YOU'RE opposing him?" she asked with a gasp. Now it was my turn to avert my gaze. My eyes fell to the floor dramatically.

"I… I still don't see the point," I sighed. "I just think it's unnecessary and wastes time to be so precise, when people will understand what you mean either way! And besides," I added defensively, "The term 'stepladder' does technically fall within the 'ladder' category, so it isn't wrong to call it that!"

"U-um, what are you two talking about?" the boy next to Pearl finally asked, although as he did so he stepped away slowly, as if he feared we might start throwing punches.

"… I'll explain it to you another time," the spirit medium sighed sadly after a pause. She looked up at me with a grave expression and clutched the fabric of her robe near her heart. "Mr. Apollo, I'm very sorry to hear that we differ on this issue. But I think we'd best put our differences aside until after we've helped this child with his tragedy."

I nodded and held out my badge in a mark of sincerity. "Understood. Come along," I said, motioning to the boy. "There are some candles in a nearby clearing that probably shouldn't be left unattended; I'd like to go pick them up. Afterwards, we'll go into the village and ask around to see if anyone has a ladder they'll let us borrow."

"Stepladder," I heard Pearl mumble, and it took every ounce of my strength not to pull rank on her. As we started heading back to the waterfall, I heard the little boy (who's name I still hadn't remembered to ask for) ask quietly under his breath,

"What just happened?"