Room 308, Monday Morning!
Amazingly enough, after a weekend of zipping around like a super-deformed chibi sort of five-year-old who was also some variety of superhero -- after all, she and her sister had nearly thwarted that weird cat-lady, and had totally intimidated the, uh, cape-wearing duck -- Rikku's first thought was not "I am never showing my face again." Or even "okay, how did I learn to speak Squirrel, anyway?"
It was: "Oooooooooh. This time, I don't have a pile of shinies to return! Score."
Hey, sorting out that stuff was always a little embarrassing.
Rikku's second thought, however, was the decidedly more practical, "why is Reno sleeping on my floor?"
(FOR HE WHO IS NO LONGER A MEERKAT. AND TOTALLY OPEN, AS WELL.)
It was: "Oooooooooh. This time, I don't have a pile of shinies to return! Score."
Hey, sorting out that stuff was always a little embarrassing.
Rikku's second thought, however, was the decidedly more practical, "why is Reno sleeping on my floor?"
(FOR HE WHO IS NO LONGER A MEERKAT. AND TOTALLY OPEN, AS WELL.)