The probability that Kaz Brekker would have to take off his shoes in any scenario during the next mission and let everyone see that his socks had a prominent hole at the toe was close to zero, but not exactly zero. Kaz could tolerate some discomfort in his shoe when he was walking and felt the hole with every step. He could absolutely not tolerate the slightest chance that his reputation could be chinked.
He stared down the hole in his sock darkly as if the mere threat in his gaze could bring it to mend itself. In Ketterdam, such a stare from Kaz Brekker did have the power to take care of problems, or at least have problems being taken care of.
It was ineffective against the sock.
Kaz took off his socks and threw them to the side. With a sigh, he gripped his cane lower and with its crow's head pulled open the middle drawer of his chest of drawers. The exclusively black and grey clothing inside was folded neatly into clearly arranged heaps, but the side reserved for socks was empty. A quick check proved that no socks had hid away in the heaps of shirts, spare coat and pants.
Frowning, Kaz rose from his bed and walked over to the chest of drawers. He kneeled with some difficulty and pulled open the lowest one, checking for socks (none), and pushed himself up to his feet again on his cane to go through the top drawer even though he knew it contained only writing material and spare gloves.
Where were his socks? Any pair?
Even turning his room upside down yielded no answers or clues. By then, Kaz's frown was so deep that it looked as if a mason had carefully chiselled it into Kaz's features forever. He stood in the middle of his room as if made of stone, hands on folded over his cane, thinking.
He was sure he remembered seeing socks the last time he had picked a fresh pair. He hadn't skipped laundry day either. Nobody entered Kaz's floor, not to mention his room, ruling out socks' thieves. Socks don't develop a consciousness and walk away on their own either. Logically, this would mean that somebody who did usually enter Kaz's room had taken his socks. Only that Kaz couldn't imagine Inej steal his socks without asking. What for?
Kaz looked down his legs at his bare feet and wiggled his toes. Whatever the case, he needed a pair of socks before he could set out. Where should he get one? Kaz couldn't leave the Slat unseen like Inej and get a new pair fresh from the market like this – someone was bound to see him and notice his bare feet, see point about chink in Dirtyhands' reputation -, which left Kaz with the second option: ask someone.
Who?
Kaz knew who.
The Slat, the levels below Kaz's room, was almost completely quiet - one of the rare times when the Crows had flown out or were sleeping soundly behind closed doors. Jesper probably was too, though not for long.
Kaz went down the stairs one level lower, stopped in front of Jesper's room and rapped his cane against the door. He placed this cane in familiar manner in front of himself and folded his gloved hands on top, waiting. The door swung open almost immediately.
Jesper, in a notable state of undress, visibly paused when he saw who stood at his door. Brekker often meant business, though he rarely came to Jesper's room in person to talk it. Momentary confusion flickered over Jesper's face, but he quickly caught himself - too late if this were a gamble.
"Kaz!" Jesper flashed a million kruge smile and casually leaned against the doorframe, angling himself so that he could run his hand over the top of his head. The nervous gesture undermined the brilliance of his charming smile like a layer of dirt undermined the brilliant shine of a gold coin. "Uhm … Pleasure or business?"
Instead of an answer, Kaz moved forward with the intention to step into the room, and respectfully, Jesper pressed flat against the doorframe not to accidentally touch the boss or brush shoulders. It was a silent understanding between them, an exchange that couldn't be weighed its worth in kruge: Jesper didn't touch without permission and Kaz could count on that.
Kaz walked over all the way to the window of Jesper's room and stopped in front of it wordlessly. He waited until he heard Jesper close the door, then he turned and cleared his throat before he spoke.
"I have no socks."
Such a sentence could be a simple statement if said without context. Coming from Kaz Brekker, it could also carry a hidden threat or the assignment of a mission, or worse.
Jesper looked down and saw that Kaz was indeed barefooted. He didn't know how to feel about this. Or about the situation in general. Was he still dreaming?
"To think … I would live to see the day," Jesper said unbelieving, unable to tear his eyes away from such a rare sight. He had never seen Kaz's feet before, or, come to think of it, much else of Kaz that wasn't always covered by clothing. Like his hands; Kaz's hands were always covered by gloves. Kaz Brekker never showed anything unless he was sure that you could pay. In fact, he never did anything unless he was sure that you would pay.
"Jesper."
"I don't even mean this in a weird way, boss, believe me, but I mean. This is a landmark moment for me. A change in my perception of the world as I have known -"
"Jesper."
"Yes?" At Kaz's tone, though not even delivered in a raised voice, Jesper's head shot up and his mouth snapped shut. But Kaz had closed his eyes and waited for a breath before he continued in an even, though dry voice.
"Can I have a pair of socks." Not a question.
"Ah. Sure." Jesper crossed the distance to his chest of drawers and pulled them open one after another, having to dig through the heaps of brightly coloured clothing within for socks with flying fingers. Jesper had an abundance of them, but as soon as he picked up a pair, he dropped them back into the drawer as unsuited for someone like Kaz Brekker like hot coals.
Kaz stood at Jesper's shoulder and watched him attentively without comment or movement. Jesper, who could feel the tips of his ears burn hotter the longer he took to find something suitable, was going through the lowest drawer already, but all of his socks were either colourful or had funny patterns - an opinion that Jesper didn't believe Kaz shared.
Not a single pair was characteristic Brekker black. It seemed like Jesper needed to do damage control somehow. Offer to run to the market, maybe.
"Which would go best with your wardrobe?" Jesper asked and picked out a pair of ocean-blue ones that weren't too bad. "Blue would suit -"
"Red." Kaz pointed his cane, and Jesper followed his line of sight to a pair of dark red socks half buried under a fancy blue shawl that brought out the colour of Jesper's eyes whenever he wore it. He didn't remember owning these socks. Or ever wearing them, as a fact.
Jesper picked them out and turned his head back to Kaz to see whether this pair really was the one Kaz was talking about. His eyebrows threatened to disappear in his hairline.
"The blood of my enemies," Kaz deadpanned.
"Ah." Reaching them over to Kaz, Jesper wondered whether he hadn't imagined the knocking at his door and was still dreaming all this soundly after all. "Right. How did I not immediately think of that."
He turned back to the chest of drawers and busied his hands without purpose, giving Kaz the privacy to sit down on the edge of Jesper's bed and pull on the socks. Jesper only turned back around when he heard the sound of the cane move towards the door, and as if by magic, his eyes were drawn to Kaz's feet, or rather - the streak of red that was prominently visible below the bottom hem of Kaz's trousers.
This could not go well.
Later, however, Jesper was not surprised to find that Kaz had dealt with that change professionally too. When he saw Kaz walk up to Pekka Rollin's office after his return from the mission, Jesper felt his breath catch at the slight but effective change in how Kaz presented himself. Kaz wore a red neck scarf to match his new red socks, just a tinge of red that disappeared below his coat, in the style like someone might wear a tie, something between what Ketterdam merchants might choose to wear.
Rollins noticed too even though he barely looked up from the kruge on his table.
"You used to wear all black, Brekker. Like on a damn funeral," Rollins remarked with a suspicious undertone that he never quite shook around Kaz but seemed to fuel Kaz somehow. "What's with the sudden colour on you?"
"A memento," Kaz said with a smile that sent shivers down everybody's spines but Jesper's, who was the only one who knew the truth but knew better than to react in any way.
"No Funerals," Kaz said.
"No Mourners," Jesper mumbled under his breath.