[ Coming from the slums, Aerith isn't exactly in the business of exploiting her fellow workingwoman. Though Mima's face is completely new to her, her smile fresh and surprisingly youthful even beneath the unforgiving sway of the distant remnants of stage and lantern lights, she knows from that familiar pin placed perfectly on her that this is one of her fellow foxes. As someone newly appointed with a title within the faction, it seems like she should have some level of responsibility here. Even if she can't conjure it up, however, she knows what the pay check looked like. The early weeks of making her own way in Hell resembled nothing but instant noodles for meals, cheap blankets, and a bad futon, waking up only to rush to work in search of enough to get by. It would be easy to take the fifteen hundred yen for a few flowers, but it wouldn't be what she was raised to do, or true to her.

Her mother had taught her better. You help people by giving them odd jobs, and the means to survive, not by taking. Sector 5 may not have been the ideal place to live all the time, but it had at least prepared her for taking care of others. Mima is dripping with natural charisma, and she feels out of place not on the stage when she's got that smile and easy going nature, but there are better ways to use it than just preying upon her. So, Aerith makes a decision. ]

I'll cut you a deal.

[ She's not about to take you for all your worth, Aerith decides. She holds out the basket in her arms; hopefully Mima doesn't think that this is coming for free. ] I've got a lot to sell. So, how about this: I'll give you the basket. Sell what you can for what you think it's worth, and I'll find you at the end of the night. You can keep what you don't sell, and we'll split the earnings.

[ Nothing's free in Hell, but it's as free as Aerith can make it. ]

Sound fair?