Flandre swung her arms, noting as she did that the vest and blouse seemed a bit snug around the shoulders. Her imagination? Maybe, but...

Stepping into her shoes—they, at least, seemed to fit normally—she went out into the corridor. Sakuya happened to be passing by, carrying a broom and dustpan, and Flandre called out to her.

"Oh, Sakuya—do you have a second? Can you please help me with something?"

Sakuya paused, smiling. "Certainly, young mistress. What do you need?"

"I'm not sure," Flandre admitted. "For the last few nights I've been noticing something a little off, and I think I just put my finger on what it is." Tugging illustratively at the hem of her vest, she went on, "It's... like none of my clothes fit right." She fidgeted a little. "Everything feels a little too tight, or a little too short, or both. Did you do anything differently when you last washed my things?"

"No, nothing out of the ordinary." Sakuya gave her a judicious look, then took her hand and said, "Come with me..."

She led Flandre back up the hall to her own bedroom, where, setting aside the broom, she went to her sewing table and got her measuring tape. This she plied with a tailor's diligence and a thoughtful frown, quietly directing Flandre to turn this way or that, raise her arms, and otherwise accommodate the measuring process.

Then, her work completed, she returned to her sewing table, consulted a notebook that lay next to the pincushion, then turned a smile to Flandre and said,

"Congratulations, young mistress. You've grown."

Flandre stared at her. "But... that's impossible. I'm a vampire, I can't grow. I'll always be the age I was when Sis turned me."

"That's what I thought, too," said Sakuya, nodding. "That's what's supposed to happen, or rather not happen." Indicating the notebook on her sewing table, she went on, "But according to my notes from the last time I made clothing for you, you're nearly three centimeters taller than you were in 1867, and your other measurements are all slightly increased as well."