The Vault sat in the basement of Building A, all concrete and fluorescent lighting and the faint smell of new fabric mixed with sizing chemicals. Aurora walked in like she owned the place, Addison trailing behind while examining every surface with those violet eyes that missed nothing.

"Campus store first," Aurora announced, heading toward the uniform section like a woman on a mission. "Best place to get proper measurements done. Then we’ll hit the boutiques if we need to."

"This is the cheapest option?" I asked, following her past racks of standard-issue blazers and dress shirts.

Aurora stopped and turned around, green eyes flashing with amusement. "The campus tailor works miracles for free if you’re buying full sets. Plus they keep your measurements on file for future orders." She gestured at the pristine uniforms hanging in perfect rows. "Way better than guessing sizes at mainland shops."

Made sense. I just hadn’t expected Aurora to think practically about my budget.

Addison was already pulling things off racks, holding up shirts and pants with the critical eye of someone who knew fabric quality. She tossed a blazer at me. "Try that."

I caught it. "Don’t I need to get measured first?"

"I know sizes," she said flatly. "Been shopping with Aurora for two years. You’re a forty-two jacket, thirty-four waist, sixteen and a half collar. Try it."

I pulled the blazer on over my t-shirt. The shoulders fit perfectly. The length hit exactly where it should. The fabric had actual structure instead of hanging like a sad curtain.

"How the fuck did you just eyeball that?"

Addison smiled around her lollipop. "Talent."

Aurora appeared with an armful of dress shirts. Yellow, white, light blue. "These first. Then pants. Then casual clothes if we have time."

A sales associate materialized from behind a counter. Older woman, maybe forty, with Emerald trim on her vest. Her eyes went professional-polite when she saw Aurora, then sharpened with recognition.

"Miss Fitzgerald. Always a pleasure."

"Camila." Aurora set the shirts on the counter. "My friend needs a complete wardrobe refresh. Started the semester at two forty, now he’s down to two ten and still dropping. Old clothes don’t fit."

Camila’s assessing gaze swept over me. Not sexual. Clinical. Like a doctor examining a patient. "The weight came off fast. You’re swimming in those shorts."

"Accelerated metabolism."

"Mm." She pulled out a measuring tape from her vest pocket. "Let’s get accurate numbers so nothing’s guesswork. Arms up."

She worked efficiently, wrapping the tape around my chest, my waist, measuring arm length and inseam. The whole process took maybe three minutes, Camila calling out numbers to some invisible system that logged everything automatically.

"Forty-two jacket, thirty-three waist, thirty-four inseam," she confirmed, exactly matching Addison’s earlier guess. "Collar sixteen and a half, sleeve thirty-five. You’re proportioned well for ready-to-wear. Makes this easier."

Aurora had already collected pants from another rack. "Five pairs. Black, charcoal, navy, khaki, and these." She held up dark jeans that looked expensive. "For weekends."

Addison brought over shirts. A lot of shirts. Dress shirts for class, casual button-ups for campus, t-shirts that actually fit properly instead of clinging like sausage casings. She kept pulling things, her movements quick and decisive.

"Try these on," Aurora ordered, pushing me toward the fitting rooms at the back.

The dressing room was small and smelled like new fabric and faint cologne from previous customers. I pulled off my gym clothes and started with the pants. The black ones fit perfectly. Actually perfectly, sitting at my hips without a belt, the length hitting my shoes exactly right.

I tried a dress shirt next. White with subtle texture. The shoulders filled the fabric, the chest had enough room to move, and the waist didn’t billow out like a sail. When I buttoned it, nothing strained. Nothing pulled. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

I looked in the mirror.

The person staring back could have passed for someone who’d been training for years. Someone who belonged at an elite hunter academy. Someone who wasn’t a total fucking fraud wearing another man’s face.

"Let me see," Aurora called from outside.

I opened the door. Both girls stood there waiting. Aurora’s face lit up immediately.

"Yes. That’s the one."

Addison circled me, examining the fit from every angle. Her lollipop had switched to grape now. Purple to match her highlights. "Shoulders good. Waist clean. Ass looks great in those pants."

I turned around instinctively. "My what?"

"Your ass." She gestured with the lollipop. "The pants show it off without being obvious. That’s quality tailoring."

"I wasn’t aware my ass needed showing off."

"Everything needs showing off when it’s worth looking at." She met my eyes directly. Didn’t blink. "And yours is worth looking at."

My face heated. Aurora laughed so hard she had to lean against the wall.

"Addy, you’re killing him."

"Just stating facts." Addison took another lap around me. "The shirt works too. Shows his build without being tight. Professional but not boring." She nodded once. "Good foundation. We can work with this."

Aurora was already texting Camila. "We’re taking everything. Plus gym clothes. Plus casual wear. Plus accessories."

"Accessories?"

"Belts, ties, the works." She looked up from her phone. "You can’t just buy clothes and pair them with your ratty gym bag and your sad sneakers."

"My sneakers are fine."

"Your sneakers are held together with hope and duct tape." She pocketed her phone. "Trust us. We know what we’re doing."

Addison was already pulling more items. A black leather jacket that looked like it cost more than my monthly stipend. Button-ups in colors I didn’t know existed. Sweaters that felt softer than anything I’d ever owned.

"Try the jacket," she ordered.

I pulled it on. Smooth leather, perfectly broken in, with just enough structure to look good without being stiff. The sleeves hit my wrists exactly right. The shoulders sat flat.

I looked in the mirror again. The jacket transformed the entire outfit from "decent" to "actually pulled together."

"Damn," I said quietly.

"Right?" Aurora appeared beside me in the mirror, her orange hair contrasting beautifully against the black leather. "That’s what we’re going for. Confident. Capable. Like you kill Silver bosses for fun."

"I’ve killed one Silver boss."

"So far." Her hand slid down my arm. "But you’ll kill more. And when you do, you’ll look good doing it."

Addison returned with shoes. Black leather sneakers that were somehow both casual and dressy. Combat boots with actual support instead of decoration. Even dress shoes that didn’t look like they’d cripple me.

"Size eleven?" she asked.

"How did you—"

"You’re six-one now, right? Most guys your height are eleven or eleven and a half." She set the boxes down. "Try the leather sneakers first."

They fit perfectly. Of course they did. Because apparently Addison had supernatural sizing abilities along with her goth aesthetic.

I changed back into my gym clothes after trying on half a dozen different combinations. Everything worked. Everything fit. The pile of clothes on the counter outside had grown to ridiculous proportions.

Aurora was scanning each item into her phone, building a digital receipt that climbed higher with every addition. Four thousand became five. Then six. Then seven.

"Aurora," I said, my voice low. "This is too much."

"It’s exactly enough." She didn’t look up from her phone. "You need to look the part if you’re going to date me off campus. Can’t have my boyfriend showing up in clothes two sizes too big."