Isha sat cross-legged, her insect robot—sleek, polished, and very much victorious—perched triumphantly on her knee. Jinx huffed and cursed a little to herself as Isha had just won the deal.

The tiny little one sat patiently and excitedly as Jinx crouched by the tub, wearing a pair of old, oil-streaked gloves she’d repurposed for the job. Isha sat in the tub, her knees drawn up, hair damp and untamed, a towel draped around her neck. The sharp, chemical tang of hair dye filled the air, and a row of improvised tools—paintbrushes, wrenches, and even a screwdriver—lay beside the tub.

Jinx squirted a glob of electric-blue dye onto her hand and combed it through Isha’s hair, parting sections with surprising care. Her usual manic energy was tempered, her movements steady and precise.

“Bathtub salon it is. ” Jinx said as she worked, “But if your hair turns green or something, don’t come crying to me!” She grinned, her eyes glinting. “

Isha watched her reflection in the faucet, her lips pressed into a determined line. She tapped the tub lightly, getting Jinx’s attention, then gestured at the long, thick braid hanging over Jinx’s shoulder.

“Braids, huh?” Jinx asked, arching an eyebrow. “You wanna go full copycat?” Jinx burst into laughter. “Alright, you’re the boss. Braids it is!”