"... Uhm, are you sure... but with all those...?"

Mathias shrugged. He still was not finished with the scars. At the very least, not to his satisfaction. They may not be immediately visible, but there was still scar-tissue in some of the lower regions of the epidermis that he only briefly went over.

If nothing else, he was thorough on jobs he decided to take. Moreso if they impacted himself, but those bordered on perfectionism; whereas others were typically given above-average attention. He tried to compensate for his mother's tendencies so her reputation doesn't suffer since she often cared more about interesting tidbits of information than her job, despite her genuine skill.

Lisanna bit her lip and asked. "What should I do?"

He grabbed some paper from his notebook, wrote 'lay down', and she asked again.

"Is.. is that it?" She nervously played with the long hair she unbraided, but left in a pony-tail.

'For face and arms, yes.'

"And... uh, others?"

'You'd need to take off your clothes.'

"S-so, just for face and arms, I'm fine like this, right?!"

She half-shouted. Mathias quirked his head and nodded. The reaction was a bit much, all things considered, he thought.

They already had their dinner, a rather basic affair where most of the time was spent just playing with the stasis stones. They decided that it was now fair-game for the rest of the classes to know since it would be impossible for them to leave campus and come back in time - and Wendi bought all the stones on clearance. As far as she knew, it was the only art store that sold them in the city.

There were other art stores, but none as well-known as the one she went to. And those did not have much in bulk, being more specialized in nature.

Lisanna, at that moment, brought up the topic of his abilities so he just offered to do it today. It was easier because he already started this afternoon so there would be enough time to remove some of the extraneous aspects of the healers' magic that promoted additional scarring (as a by-product of the need for rapid wound closure).

"Wa-wait, y-your arm is still broken, isn't it? May-maybe you should r-rest?"

'It has been mended. It's sore, but it's simpler to mend bones than fix deep cuts or bruises - and burns.'

The bone in the afflicted area was temporarily weakened as a result of the foreign mana adhering to the break, but after a few days, there would be no issue. His cast was reduced to a watery sleeve, even.

"That... is that so... but-"

Lisanna wanted to back out, but Mathias was getting tired.

'You can even rest on the fur... just this once - never again.'

There was still lingering guilt when he thought about her palm, her arm, and naga's last attempt to her face. So he was being extremely generous - even if there were caveats in the message.

Lisanna glared at him suspiciously. "You're lying."

He shook his head.

"... Then what are you planning?"

'Nothing. I feel bad.' He wrote, directing a finger to her wrist and face.

"... And that's all? There are no ulterior motives?"

'If you think you'll ever lay on my fur again, you're sorely mistaken.'

That soothed her suspicions when he reacted with his own. Of course, his were self-induced, but she thought the feelings he had for the fur outweighed the feelings he had for any other person on this campus. Herself included. Which made the assertion a little more bearable.

"... If you touch me in weird places - I'm inches from the fur."

'Which is why I offered it as a hostage.'

Lisanna groaned. She thought him to be acting nice, but he was just thinking pragmatically. It stifled her anxiety and she gruffed, "fine. Do what you want."

She made a great effort in showing her deliberate steps towards his bed and trying to yank off the fur. She gasped. He tied it to a bed-post.

His pained eyes were clear to see as he saw the trapped fur, unable to join him as a defence against sun or slights; he just planned on ensuring that it would not be taken from him, even if its multi-functionality was reduced as a blanket to a bed-sheet.

"... You know what'll happen if you do anything weird, right?"

He nodded, rubbing his watery eyes.

Lisanna groaned but laid face-down onto his pillow.

'There's no smell?' She thought, smelling only fabric. 'I figured that it would be different than mine.'

The first day, the pillow was thoroughly laundered so she did not care much about it. Furthermore, hers smelled bad then, so she stole his bed. However, at this point, especially since he was awakened hastily this morning, he wouldn't be inclined to wash his things every-day.

She was mistaken. He did. Everyday. And especially thoroughly this morning since his bed was wet when he awoke.

Because the fur was on it.

She was simultaneously calmed and unnerved by the neutral pillow and sheets. However, she did have to admit that the fur was especially soft today. She wanted it.

'I'm starting.' He passed a note which included, 'don't get any ideas about the fur.'

"Yes, yes. Do it whenever."

There was a soft growl behind her and she relaxed. She was still wearing her clothes and he was clearly warning her about the fur again. She accepted the stream of water on her cheek and arm as Mathias sat at the edge of the bed.

'... This... this isn't that wasteful, is it? I... wouldn't mind this... every now and again... it's just to recharge... money well-spent...' Lisanna thought before hastily adding, "ah, before I forget, the money's on my desk."

The warm, gentle sensation slowed and the note was passed in front of her. 'Don't want it.'

"Huh? Really?" She lifted her shoulder and turned her head towards him. "Like nothing?"

He nodded.

"... Then... can I be selfish and ask for more?"

He grumbled growlingly at what he saw as a malicious threat; and what she saw as an innocent question. In the future, any-and-all knowledge of his capabilities in the realm of parlour magic was to be top-secret.

He did not pass a note refusing her, fearing reprisal on his beloved fur. She took it as a placid acceptance and enjoyed the feeling; it seemed like what one would feel is they were floating in the clouds, comforted by a supernatural warmth in each cell of her body as if bathed in the sunlight. On occasion, a cold breeze would run across her skin, but ultimately it was a nice reprieve.

She wiggled a little at the colder sensations and her shirt rode up. Since there was a warm fur underneath, she did not care in the slightest even as stiff grunts appeared.

'Is she testing me?' Mathias growled inwardly, seeing the exposed back, shoulders, and thighs. 'She's definitely doing this on purpose... ugh, if I don't do this... my fur...!'

He begrudgingly got to work on the scars on her back. He had finally finished the troublesome ones on her face and arm, including even her palm. However, with more work given to him, he began to hate the side of him that demanded he do it well.

'It's too troublesome,' his mother would always say. He now understood why.

A smaller one was fine, like the one on her face. However, dealing with the one on her arm and palm to satisfaction was tiresome. And now he saw another back he was forced to work with.

'... Maybe,' he thought.

He tried to simplify the procedure. His mother did it all the time for fatigue, illness, and the like; and even he was well-versed in just converting the spell-formations governing the water to deal with fatigue. He tried to convert it to reduce external scar-tissue.

It was gradually receding over an hour, but he had to consistently rehydrate the skin more directly. And then the cells would become sapped. He ended up creating three different streams of water to wash over her lower back, rotating it around a vertebra consciously until he could do it without thought. Then the internal regions were focused on.

"... Oh... a little more, please."

'... I'll never do this again... it isn't worth it.'

The clothes rode up to expose a little more.

Fearing he'd just have to keep going if he was too slow, he swiftly stream-lined the practise further. He added a fourth stream that clung thinly, with several small, shifting gaps for the rest of the water to wash over, to seep in and take care of the internal segments of scar tissue.

It had a strange side-effect of making incredibly glossy, smooth skin, but that was of no consequence to him. It was outside the scope of the intended goal.

Both arms, head, neck, the majority of her legs, and all but the upper third of her back were clear - she seemed half-asleep.

And then she turned over.

'Really?!'

Normally, the issue with scar removal was exacerbated by the fact that there was a need to by-pass one's inherent differences from foreign intrusion, via mana, and the natural scaling differences in areas of skin. For most healers and parlour mages, being water mages, fire mages had the most problematic defences to contend with - delaying his work even further. However, when it came to cuts, he got extremely proficient in controlling the gradients that the healing streams covered, washing away scar tissue and rejuvenating it by promoting the growth of new, undamaged skin cells.

Burns were still a lot more difficult. However, Lisanna's burns came from his ice and lava - two forces that were already dealt with. For someone who was not a fire-mage, it would be more difficult, insofar as they caused more direct damage, but simple cuts were, well, simple now.

"...!"

She was definitely sleeping now.

He growled. Knowing he could speak, but not wanting to push it. She did not answer his call.

'... You're not taking my fur.'

He picked her up and set her on her own bed, tidied his, and immediately fell asleep.

He was exhausted, he was finished, and he refused to embolden her to threaten his fur anymore by offering her any more concessions.