It'd been two days since she'd made it back to her ship. Maybe it wasn't right for her to take a break, but she thought she deserved it, after all she'd been through. Just enough to recover her strength anyway. For the past forty-eight hours, after a nice, long bath, all Hat Kid had done was curl up in bed, snuggle in front of the TV, and eat whatever pleasant, cool things she had in her fridge. Ice cream was a must, along with tall glasses of milk or juice. Cooking Cat even cut slices of a fruit called a 'watermelon' for her, which matched its name and was sweet to the taste.

The ship's ventilation and air conditioning units were working just fine, but she still dragged a fan out of storage. The extra air flow felt amazing after weeks in never-ending heat. Besides that, it was fun to make noises in and hear the wobbly, vibrating feedback. This was how the feline found her and she smirked at her as she walked into the main bridge, the young alien's red dress and poncho draped over her arms.

"It's going to take some of elbow grease," she explained, lifting up the outfit, "but, scrubbed good and with a few washes, I think we can get most of the strains out."

In the Firelands, damage to the fabric had been a near everyday occurrence. The battle had only made it worse. Stains from ashes and soot, as well as scorch marks, patterned over the bright colors. It hadn't been as obvious before—not that she'd given it much attention—but they were distinct in normal lighting. It was pretty and it seemed a shame to throw it out, so she'd asked for help fixing it.

"What about the burn holes?" Hat Kid asked.

Here, she twisted her mouth in an awkward frown, holding the outfit up. "Well, I didn't see anything like that on the poncho, but the bottom of the dress did get singed. I'm no seamstress, but we can probably get somebody to cut and hem it. We won't have to take too much off and you can probably even have something else added to the bottom if you want."

Dressed in her usual, purple tunic—freshly cleaned with the smell of detergent still lingering on it—her shoulders fell in disappointment. She liked the dress just as it was, but there wasn't much she could do. She guessed it wouldn't hurt if it was cut a little shorter. Maybe she could find someone to detail it with the same pattern that the poncho had along its hem…

Noting her dejection, Cooking Cat walked over to the girl as she folded the clothes over her arms once again. "It might not be the same, but that doesn't mean it's beyond saving," she reassured her, "I have a neighbor in Mafia Town who knows her way around a needle pretty well. You can come with me when I go back today to meet her. You can tell her what you want done."

Hat Kid gave her a soft smile and nodded. Although she still wanted to rest some more before running off to find more Time Pieces, stretching her legs a bit sounded like a good idea. Not to mention she wanted to see a blue sky. The young alien didn't have to go to any of the planet's strange, gravitational waypoints to get to her ship initially, but she did have to be within range of the vessel for her handheld teleportation system to function. She'd seen a clear sky then, but after so long of being deprived from the sight while in the Firelands, she was already starting to miss it again.

It took about half an hour for the two to get ready, but soon enough they travelled down to the seaside city. As soon as her eyes fell on the expanse of water, Hat Kid skipped over to a nearby stone railing and leaned her face toward the ocean breeze. It smelled of salt and the bolder scent of fish wafted from the nearby docks, but she'd forgotten how much she missed even this. It was strange how much more she could appreciate the little things about a place—even one like the gang-torn town—after being away.

As Cooking Cat led her through the winding streets the child heard the hiss of spray paint and caught sight of a familiar red hood from a nearby alley. She hesitated at first, but then told the feline to go on ahead without her and that she'd catch up before parting ways. Sure enough, as Hat Kid entered the alley, she spotted Mustache Girl drawing and writing the word 'resist' across the concrete walls.

The other young girl was so engrossed in her task that she didn't even notice her. With a light smirk, she tiptoed behind her rival, her hands behind her back, "I'm pretty sure that's graffiti, which is a crime in most places, you know."

Caught red-handed, the vigilante nearly dropped her spray paint in surprise. She spun on her heel, but gave Hat Kid an angry frown when she spotted her. Calming back down with a disgruntled huff, she folded her arms across her chest, "This is propaganda art," she contradicted, pouting, "The Mafia makes graffiti. Most of the walls around here are already ruined: I'm just trying to convince people to stand up to them."

Humming to herself in mock-thought, she stepped closed to Mustache Girl's work and gave her a smug grin, "Still looks like a bunch of smeared paint to me."

"What do you even want, Kid?"

"Just to say thank you." She didn't look at the other child and kept her eyes firmly locked on the paint in front of her, so she didn't notice the mild shock that registered on her face at her words. Honestly, she didn't want to give her that much, given her foul attitude, but it was in order. Mustache Girl had come through for her in the end after all, no matter their broken friendship. "You told Snatcher to look for me, right? I think that deserves a thank you, even if you were just returning a favor."

Now it was Mustache Girl's turn to look away, bitterly tightening the line of her mouth once again. It was hard to get a read on her, but she maintained her usual, outward hostility. "It's what a hero does, after all," she mumbled, "even for backstabbers like you… But I guess you're still not planning on sharing any of those Time Pieces, right?"

"Not even one."

"Figures…" her true sourness returned. She paused in thought, then asked, "What about the crazy fox woman, huh? I overheard the Snatcher say something about hunting them down. Did he get them? Is she gone?"

Now it was Hat Kid's turn to frown, hearing the eagerness in her rival's voice. Of course, Mustache Girl didn't know everything she did, but a part of her wondered if she'd even listen. The self-described rebel had her own views of right and wrong, and had a bad habit of labeling anyone who didn't match those morals in just two boxes of 'good' or 'bad.' It was clear that Kit had already fallen in the 'bad' category in her eyes.

In a small sense, maybe she was right, but Hat Kid knew better than that. Things weren't so simple.

"No, Snatcher didn't get her," she replied with a flat tone, "or the fire spirits. They went back home."

Something gave in her voice at that final word, enough for even Mustache Girl to notice. The latter shot her a stern glance, "Don't tell me you wanted them to get away! First you side with the Mafia, then you get all chummy with a bunch of ghosts, and now this?! You have a serious problem, protecting criminals…"

Hat Kid snapped her gaze at the other girl, then ripped the spray paint from her hand and gave it a wild shake. A few seconds later, the space in front of them clouded with a misty red as she began to create her own, small art piece. Nothing major or of any importance—just a smiley face—but something to get her point across nonetheless. When she was done, she tossed the can back lazily, as if she didn't even care.

"Maybe that makes me just as much a criminal then," she countered with a shrug, "just no more of one than you are."

Mustache Girl balked at her, then stomped her foot on the ground indignantly, "We're not the same! Y-you just made a mess! I'm trying to tell people to rise up!"

"Maybe I'm trying to tell people to remember to smile when things get bad," she said, "Did you think of that?"

Mustache Girl had to know she was only messing with her, but it gave her no room to contradict without outright calling her a liar, which would just go nowhere for either of them. So, the vigilante bit back her tongue.

For a moment, the two girls just stood side-by-side in silence. After their fallout, they'd never seen eye-to-eye. It was possible that they might never find that middle ground again. Right then, however, as uncomfortable as the quiet was, they were able to linger in each other's presence. Neither of them really wanted to fight, but stubbornness kept both of them from walking away in an apparent retreat.

Eventually, the vigilante grumbled something they were both thinking under her breath, "After this, I hope you know we go back to being enemies. I'm still going to find the rest of the Time Pieces before you do. I was able to do quite a bit of my own research when you were gone. Maybe it would've been better if you stayed with the fire spirits after all."

"Sounds like a challenge," Hat Kid's smirk returned, "But then again, I doubt you've caught up to me so far."

Someone shouted at them from the other end of the alley: A Mafia goon. Their cover blown, the rivals' reunion was curt short before they could fire any more quips at each other. Each shot the other a final glance, then ran off before the goon could call for more reinforcements—Mustache Girl scaling up a nearby ladder and Hat Kid racing back the way she came. It'd been a while, but she knew the streets well enough by then that she was confident she could evade the low-level thugs.

Soon enough, it would be back to business as usual for the both of them.