There is, not uncommonly, a message. From Kazuo. As often enough.
The content is not necessarily as often enough.
<TXT> Would you happen to have experimented with any glow-in-the-dark paints?
It takes a moment for a reply. A few moments really, for someone who is notorious for being glued to her phone and a texting queen.
<TXT> Er. Yes. Better on canvas than paper, terrible on skin.
<TXT> I will not inquire whether the skin experiment was intentional. Any idea how any of them might do on plastic?
<TXT> Plastic is harder, mostly because plastic sucks to paint on. If it's hard shiny plastic, you need to sand it first. Flexible plastic will crack fairly quickly, but it's possible. Do you need me to paint something?
<TXT> You would admittedly do better at it than I, but in this instance I suspect it would be better to make absolutely certain there is no possibility of leakage.
<TXT> That begs a lot of questions about what, exactly, is leaking. I will admit that all glow in the dark paint is infinitely more glowy with a little zap of magic to help.
<TXT> You are welcome to come and see for yourself why. Not, in this instance, Kyouko. Both of you can keep secrets, but she might not be able to keep from snickering.
<TXT> She's at work, and I'm at my Mom's in my studio. Are you at home? I'm willing to be done for the now to bring you glow in the dark paint.
<TXT> I am. Back in my room.
... that he is inviting her back to his part of the apartment rather than meeting her at the door is perhaps the only part of the conversation weirder than why does Kunzite want glow in the dark paint.
<TXT> Be there soon.
Soon is a bit of generous term, as it does involve a bit of clean up, both of her workspace and herself, and an obligatory quick chat stop with Mom on the way out.
Soon may be as generous as she likes. It gives Kazuo time to work. This is, after all, a project that's worth all the effort he can put into it.
And, well. Glow-in-the-dark paint.