"Just sixty?" Hyuk-jae gaped, open-mouthed, at his friend. That was easily half his rent! Easily. "That's — that's a lot of money, Nagisa!" But it seemed the fluffy-haired young man wouldn't hear his objections. He refused to move from the spot in the store and instead made it a point to tell Hyuk-jae exactly what he needed to buy.

Bewildered. That was the best word to describe Hyuk-jae as Nagisa rattled off a long list of things he needed. He wasn't sure he really knew what a cravat was, let alone why he'd need one. "I am not wearing a hair ribbon," he objected, very firmly. "I don't need coattails." A suit, sure. That was reasonable. A blazer? Fine. That made sense, too. Maybe. As long as it was plain. But a vest? Extra everything? It was not only unreasonable, but it just…

Nagisa was already moving about the store, picking up brightly colored shirts and silky ties and who knew what else, nattering on about how this one would look perfect with his skin tone and that one would match his eyes and it was really, really overwhelming. Swallowing, Hyuk-jae watched his friend pick up a fifth shirt and his mouth went dry.

"Stop," he said softly, catching Nagisa's arm. "Stop. I can't — I'm really uncomfortable with this." It was embarrassing, somehow. He felt so out of place. The salesman was eyeing him with an odd sort of pitying look, and he was acutely aware of how low-class he was. Couldn't they go some place simpler? What was wrong with buying a white shirt, or a plain black suit? Was wanting to buy a good waxed-cotton jacket to protect against rain really such a bad idea? Hyuk-jae tugged his earrings, glancing at the door.

"I can look nice," Hyuk-jae tried to explain, "in things that cost less. Can't I? And —"

But Nagisa was going full-steam now, lip quivering as he valiantly explained why he thought Hyuk-jae needed to buy these clothes from this store right now. The shorter young man even went so far as to say he could spend more money on other clothes later, which was, in Hyuk-jae's opinion, ludicrous. Why would he want to spend more when he could just buy suitable things to start out with?

Sighing, he yielded at least a little. It was the only way to appease Nagisa, he was sure, and he couldn't have him get more upset in the middle of a store. "I'll at least try things on, okay? How about that?" But, as he eyed the patterned shirts in Nagisa's arms, the former newspaper boy set his jaw. "But not hair ribbons. And not this." He picked up the sleeve of a floral shirt.

"If you want us to be complimentary, why shouldn't I wear plain things?" Sweeping his hand up and down in a gesture to Nagisa's entire personage, Hyuk-jae raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be more complimentary if I set off what you wear, instead of matching it?" He picked up a pale grey shirt. "I said I'd try things on. Let's do that." At least it would get them off the sales floor for a moment.

Hyuk-jae picked up a pair of navy trousers and a white shirt as he walked toward the back, ignoring Nagisa's protests about them being plain. In the back, he grasped the fluffy-haired young man's wrist just as Nagisa turned to 'go find more things'. "Oh no you don't," he said. "You're coming in here with me. I'm not going to parade out there to show you." Under no circumstances was he walking out of a fitting room in a floral shirt.

Not even if Nagisa cried. No way.

Stuffing them both into a fitting room, Hyuk-jae pulled the door shut and clicked the lock. Quickly, he shinned his shirt off over his head without unbuttoning it, and reached for the pale grey. Catching sight of the mirror, he grimaced a little at a fading-green handprint shaped bruise on his hip. He stuffed an arm into the sleeve of the shirt, hoping to hide the rest of his bruises with clothes. He tended to always have a few marks on his pale skin, partly from being clumsy and partly from fits and partly, when he wasn't careful, from Mr. Gil's temper. Hyuk-jae quietly hooked buttons on the shirt, trying to ignore Nagisa's staring. He cuffed the sleeves to the elbow, rubbing his thumb across the smooth feel of fine fabric.

It was definitely the nicest thing he'd ever put on.

Nagisa was staring at him. Hyuk-jae began to regret putting them in the fitting room together, but he doubted that his new friend would've taken his word for what looked good and what didn't. The only other option was to repeatedly go out and back in, putting on and taking off. It was a pain, and he was still naggingly uncomfortable. "What?" he asked, voice a bit rougher intended. He ran a finger under the collar of the shirt.

"You look great."

Glancing in the mirror, Hyuk-jae shrugged. The pale grey was fine. He was already pale and it looked nice enough with his hair, he supposed. Unused to having the luxury of caring about an outfit, he found it difficult to muster an opinion. It was a shirt, right? Just a shirt. It was fine.

Too expensive, but fine.

"We'll have to try on trousers next, too, then when you've made your choices we'll stop by the tailor to make sure they fit a little better, okay?"

Sighing, the taller young man started to pull the shirt off without unbuttoning it. The look on Nagisa's face stopped him and he sheepishly pulled at the tiny buttons, carefully undoing it and taking it off. He forgot, in his concern to be careful with the clothing, to be worried about Nagisa seeing any part of him. The white oxford shirt went on next, sleeves cuffed to the elbow and top two buttons left undone, followed by the navy trousers. They fit closer than his old ones, which were running a bit worse for the wear despite his careful mending. He almost put them where Nagisa couldn't see them, embarrassed about how patched they were for a moment. The navy ones were soft and clean and hugged his thighs. Hyuk-jae raised a brow, looking in the mirror. "Is this what you want me to look like?" he asked, waving his hand down at his body.

The navy suited him. It was softer than black, but still plain. Hyuk-jae tossed his head a little, moving his hair out of his eyes. It had gotten a bit long since the last time he'd bothered to take scissors to it. He watched Nagisa's face for a reaction. Really, the young man felt that it mostly mattered what Nagisa thought about his appearance. Hyuk-jae would be happy to entertain in a plain shirt and trousers, with maybe a simple jacket. He didn't think anything of it, and didn't mind what he looked like as long as it wasn't full of ribbons and horribly uncomfortable. He had simple tastes when it came to clothing, preferring clean, utilitarian lines and solid colors to anything else.

"… Okay." Hyuk-jae quickly put his own shirt back on, jumping at the chance to be done with this. He chose the navy trousers and two shirts: one white, despite Nagisa's grumbling, and one blue. While Nagisa made him promise to wear color, he didn't specify which… so Hyuk-jae bought a light pearl-grey blazer. The total almost made him hyperventilate, and the clerk actually laughed for a moment before catching sight of his face.

As they left, Hyuk-jae hung onto the package as if it were made of gold itself. He could not believe how much he'd spent. It was unreasonable. Unfathomable. It was downright sinful! When he thought of his rent and food, the corners of his mouth turned down.

Nagisa, of course, was ecstatic. He chattered on about getting Hyuk-jae's hair 'done', whatever that entailed, and the former newsie flat out refused. His hair was fine! He actually kind of liked it how long it was then. He could just pull it back into a little ponytail, though it left some of the side-swept front out. What was wrong with that? It was fine!

They walked along the streets, catching bemused glances from people who probably assumed he was carrying Nagisa's purchases. As they passed by a shop window, though, Hyuk-jae stopped. He stared into the store, eyes on a beautiful, honey-colored guitar. It was breathtaking. He could see, in the back of the store, what looked like a workshop. Slender fingers pressed against the glass. He hadn't had regular access to a guitar in… two years. He stood there for a long moment, not saying anything. His arm dropped to his side, but after a few minutes he seemed to shake his head.

Without thinking to ask Nagisa to stop walking, Hyuk-jae stepped into the shop. Ramamurthy and Sons — he noted the sign. Setting his packages down, he took the guitar down from its display with tender hands. A chair nearby offered refuge and Hyuk-jae sat, testing the strings. Clear, perfect notes sounded in the shop. Someone came out from the back to ask if he needed assistance, but by that time he'd already started picking out a gentle, folksy melody. Hyuk-jae's mouth curved into a soft, satisfied smile.

He still knew how to play.

It was a love song. An extremely popular one, at that — Hyuk-jae looked up at Nagisa, smiling a little as the shorter man began to play. He hadn't known Nagisa was a musician! Once the piano accompaniment was well and truly underway, Hyuk-jae began to sing softly, ignoring the spectators. He kept his gaze down around his shoes, hair half-covering his face. Perhaps he didn't even see the people watching? Totally focused on the guitar and the music, Hyuk-jae pushed the melody into something a little more melancholy. Nagisa seemed experienced with jazz, because as the guitar changed the song, his piano went with it.

"I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places… that this heart of mine embraces all day and through…"

Hyuk-jae had an almost-rough voice; a vulnerable, intimate slur. The clerk smiled, leaving them to play — everyone enjoyed jazz these days, and their rendition of the love song was definitely more earthy and smoky than the usual radio version. It was no wonder they had spectators. The two hosts were practically putting on a jazz club in the shop!

"I'll find you in the morning sun, and when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you …"

The song came to an end, and Hyuk-jae stilled his fingers. "I didn't know you played," he said, looking over at Nagisa. He flushed, realizing how many people were standing around. "Em —" gingerly, he set the guitar aside. "I, um."
"Thanks," said the clerk. "You guys were great. I haven't quite heard that song like that?"
"Oh." Hyuk-jae waved a hand, standing up and taking his packages. "I'm just not a great singer, I have to do everything my way. It's not a big deal. I was just messing around." The opportunity to play had been too good to pass up. The guitar itself though was way out of his league — it was a beautiful and fine piece of craftsmanship. The now-host had not yet considered the possibility of playing music while hosting, or for money. The fact that people were watching him twisted his stomach.

"Your instruments are beautiful here," he added, and looked at Nagisa for help. Hyuk-jae wanted to walk out, but that wasn't quite appropriate. What else did they have to do that day? Go to the tailor? Wash his hair, or something?

Nagisa's ability to extricate them from situations was uncanny. Hyuk-jae let the younger man lead him out, smiling at the clerk. The crowd pressed them for their names, but Nagisa pushed him on before the guitar player could say anything. He wondered, idly, if they ought to have given out the name of the club. Couldn't they have strummed up some business?

Pun intended.

Before he had a chance to mention his hilarious thought, Nagisa pushed him along, heading down the sidewalk. Once they were a bit away from the group of people, he mentioned that Hyuk-jae had seemed happy while playing. The taller young man wasn't sure about it being beautiful, but Nagisa seemed prone to exaggeration and showmanship. He let it slide. If anything, the piano performance was really what had sold them. Nagisa was very talented! It must have been quite an experience, growing up with musical parents. Hyuk-jae assumed Nagisa's parents liked him, that he'd learned from his father... had he missed something, just now? Nagisa was asking him a question.

"Hmm?" Hyuk-jae turned orange eyes on Nagisa for a moment. "Oh. Yeah, it's been about two years." Stretching, he pulled his arms up over his head. Resting his left hand along the elbow of the opposite arm, he tugged a little. The bones in his shoulders clicked and Hyuk-jae let out a relieved sigh. Sometimes his shoulders ached, likely from carrying so many papers for so long. "We had a neighbor that taught me guitar and piano, when I was young. She was elderly. But since I left my parents I haven't had regular access to instruments." They were expensive, after all. He shrugged. "I've always loved music. I —" he laughed, blushing. "— I even used to write some. It was kind of the only thing I had to do, growing up." He wondered if his old neighbor was even still living. She had enjoyed his company, he liked to think.

His mother had done her duty by teaching him basic mathematics, writing, and reading, but she hadn't attempted to seriously educate her son. Hyuk-jae grew up spending his time playing music with the neighbor and reading whatever he could find, but not going to school. Taking his bags from Nagisa again, Hyuk-jae just shrugged. "It was fun to play again, anyway." He chewed his lower lip for a moment. Talking about music was so personal!

As they walked along, Hyuk-jae suddenly swerved a little to the right and stopped walking for a second, only to start back up after a minute pause. "Where are we going, again?" he asked, brushing hair out of his face. Perhaps Nagisa had told him where they were going and he'd missed it?

Oh, the tailor. Why did he need one again? Hyuk-jae had never been to a tailor. "But — I bought clothes that fit already, didn't I?" Wasn't this just spending money for the sake of it, now? He frowned, but follow Nagisa along the street.

Nagisa practically shoved him into a shop and he paused, staring. "Keosyha Tailoring" was a tiny place, and they were greeted by short, elderly man with thick glasses. "Ah — hello," he said, nervous. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, having no idea what to do. Were they leaving all his clothes there? How long would it take?

Nagisa and the old man chatted about something for a moment and Hyuk-jae blanked out, blinking again when he realized he was being spoken to. With a glance at the shorter young man, he moved over to the tailor. He reminded him of the doctor his parents had taken him to — short, elderly, white hair. It made him sharply uncomfortable and Hyuk-jae tried to quell the fluttering in his stomach. The man instructed him to hold his arms up for measuring and he did so, biting his lower lip.

The man seemed nice enough. It wasn't much help, however — Hyuk-jae flinched visibly every time he came close to him, and he was trembling as the old man measured his waist. Orange eyes darted around the room, looking for a clock. This would be over soon, right?

But no. He had to try on all the clothes and let the man touch him again, deciding what needed fixing. He ducked behind a curtain to change, straining his ears to try and catch the soft conversation Nagisa was having with the tailor. He couldn't really catch any of the words, though, just the timbre of their voices. Hyuk-jae stepped out first in the navy trousers and white shirt, brushing his hair off his face in a nervous, flitting gesture.

"I'm fine," said Hyuk-jae, quickly. Of course he was fine. It would be strange if he weren't fine. "I'm fine," he repeated. He was supposed to be fine. Nagisa obviously trusted these people, and he'd been right so far about almost everything. He took a steadying breath and nodded as Nagisa explained the point of a tailor. It still seemed unneccessary, but Hyuk-jae knew he needed the job. He'd do what he had to for it.

Chewing his lower lip as Nagisa tried to comfort him more, Hyuk-jae glanced at the couple, then back to the shorter young man. "Thank you," he said softly. Why was Nagisa so nice to him? It made no sense.

Stepping forward, he let the tailor touch him again, looking over the clothes. The slender young man had nothing to say and kept his eyes on the floor, following directions when given them. He changed outfits as requested, but said nothing to anyone — including Nagisa. It was a relief when they were allowed to leave, though they had to leave his purchases behind as well. They were promised the clothes would be ready the next evening, done in time for work. That evening, Hyuk-jae would just have to make do with his regular clothes, shabby as they were. As the two young men left the tailor, he visibly relaxed around the eyes, letting out a soft breath.

"I guess we'll go get my other shirt," he said. "I have a white one." It would be okay for one night. Glancing at Nagisa, Hyuk-jae indicated that he thought it would be best if he walked to pick it up from his apartment. Shaking his fluffy hair, his new friend disagreed.
"It's easier if I just come with you! I've got to look at it, anyway. We have to make sure it's presentable!" Nagisa grinned and Hyuk-jae shrugged.
"Suit yourself."

Leading the way, the taller man walked at a brisk pace, forcing Nagisa to near-trot along behind him. Dragon Flats wasn't a place to take a cab, especially not to Hyuk-jae's building. The neighborhoods changed as they got closer, buildings more run-down, obviously less affluent. Glancing behind him, Hyuk-jae walked just a little slower.
They reached a multi-story building in a state of disrepair and Hyuk-jae dug into his pocket, producing a single key. He let them in the door, stepping around a drunkard sleeping off his night in the corner.
"It's floor ten," he told Nagisa. "I hope you don't mind stairs."
The two of them climbed, not saying much. Hunching his shoulders, the former-newsie found it difficult to smile. How awkward! Reaching number 1013, he unlocked the door and stepped inside without ceremony.

A boy around Hyuk-jae's age looked up from his bowl of noodles. "Out all night?" He raised a brow and eyed Nagisa. "I hope you have your share this time."
Wordlessly, Hyuk-jae handed over a fist of yuans.
"You can't bring your work home with you," the boy said, jerking his head in Nagisa's direction.
The Firebender's reply was clipped, "I didn't." Stepping around him, Hyuk-jae headed for a closet. "Just a minute," he told Nagisa. Opening the door, he pulled a string, switching on a single lightbulb. The edges of a palette on the floor were visible, complete with shabby red blanket. The young man ducked inside while his roommate continued to stare coolly at Nagisa.

The slender, tall young man had had odd feelings about showing Nagisa where he lived before. He hadn't been able to put his finger quite on why, but as he caught sight of his face, Hyuk-jae realized. It was because Nagisa was shocked. Horrified.

He was mortified.

"You... you sleep here? In this? This is horrible!"

Hyuk-jae stared at Nagisa for a moment, mortified. It — it wasn't that bad! Not really! It was just a small room, that was all! It wasn't like the ceiling leaked or he lived on the street. The closet was warm, dry. It had its own door, so he had privacy. The rent was cheap. Hyuk-jae had never really thought it was a bad place to lay his head. It seemed that Nagisa disagreed, however.
"It's not that bad," he tried to say to his new friend, "really. I mean it's not the worst place I ever —"

Nagisa cut him off, demanding he gather his things. With his roommate looking on expectantly, Hyuk-jae swallowed. He didn't want to fight with Nagisa in front of someone else. He didn't want to refuse to stand by him either, not after what his roommate had said. That left one option: grab his things. Silently, jaw set, Hyuk-jae packed the few things he owned: comb, bar of soap, red blanket, white shirt. One detective novel, his journal. Everything packed up quickly and neatly. Heading out, Hyuk-jae's spine stiffened at his roommate's remark.

What was worse was that he knew the boy was right. He watched them leave with dispassionate eyes, but called out to Hyuk-jae as he stepped through the door. "When it doesn't work out," he said, "you can check back."
The Firebender glanced at his roommate, wavering in the doorway for a moment. "Thanks, Minho."
"Whatever."

Hyuk-jae waited until they got downstairs to whirl around, fixing bright, angry eyes on Nagisa. "How could you do that?" he hissed. "It wasn't that bad! It's one of the nicer places I've lived in the last two years! Where am I going to go, now? Your floor?" He scrubbed a slim hand across his face. The money he'd spent today was bad enough. The visit to the tailor, that was worse. But this? "I know I don't have a lot, but spirits, Nagisa! I have a little pride, as pathetic as that may seem to you!" He shoved the door open, stepping out into the street. As Nagisa followed him, Hyuk-jae took a ragged breath. Nagisa thought he was pathetic.

"I — I just —" Glaring daggers, Hyuk-jae stopped walking. "Ordering me to do things? I'm not your pet project! I've been doing my best!" His best was nothing, obviously. Nagisa pitied him, and that — that was the basis of all this, wasn't it? Pity. Hyuk-jae hugged his parcel of belongings to his chest. "I'm sorry it's not what you expected, or up to your standards." But what was he going to do now? He couldn't just... stay with Nagisa. Was that what the other host intended?