'Where did you get this feather duster?' Fiammetta asks in annoyance as she takes out the scarlet duster. Patrizion lifts his head to answer as he wipes his armor: 'Oh, you mean Fifi? It was a gift from your friend Mostima, said I could look at it whenever I missed you.' 'And why exactly did you give it my childhood nickname...?' Seeing the woman's eyebrows scrunched together in fury, Patrizion hesitates a moment, then decides to spit out the truth: 'Everyone thought it looked just like you, so I called it that.' 'Which part of this is meant to be like me?!' She raises the duster and gives it a few flicks, grumping disapprovingly. 'It's the same color as your ear tufts, and when the plumes are sticking up, they look like how your hair would stand up after I combed it for you when you were little.' 'Just throw it away!' 'Now that won't do. It was a gift, so throwing it away would be rude.' The old man takes the duster away from her, sticking it back into the old helmet before nodding in satisfaction. 'Yes, I'd say it looks quite nice in there, otherwise this armor would be rather lonely at home.' 'Then stick some flowers in there, or hang your medals on it or something!' 'But I'm such a humble man, how could I just put my medals on display like that?' 'Then what'll it take for you to put it away?!' The woman tries to snatch the feather duster back, but her every attempt is easily thwarted by the old man. 'No, no, I shan't no matter what you say. It's Fifi who keeps me company when you're not home. When it's movie time, she sits there quietly, never muttering about hackneyed plots or wooden acting or stale popcorn.' After staring each other down for a good long while, she figures there is no reasoning with him. All she can do is pinch her brow. '...Fine. There's no talking you out of this. Forget it.' Upon hearing these words, the old man lets out the smile of a winner, but the smile soon stiffens as the woman changes tack. 'At first, I was going to take a whole month off to relax at home, maybe spend some time with you while I was at it.' She shakes her head and sighs as she continues: 'But since you have Fifi now, I guess I'll just have to go on a trip alone. Wouldn't want to disturb your leisure time, after all—' Before she even finishes, the old man quickly grabs the feather duster, walks forward a few steps to pull open the storage room door, then throws it in before slamming the door shut. 'Ah, it's just a feather duster, no need to keep it on display.' 'But it was so pretty when stuck in the helmet.' 'What was pretty about it? It looks like it was caught in an explosion.' 'Wasn't it nice and quiet?' 'Movie time should be all about eating popcorn while grumbling with your fellow watchers.' 'Wasn't it just like me?' *sigh* 'Don't mock an old man...' The old man tousles the woman's hair, smiling in exasperation. 'Fia, it's not that it's just like you, it was me thinking of you, that's all.'