♠︎ ♥︎ Ｂ Ｅ Ａ Ｔ ♦︎ ♣︎

♠︎ ♥︎ ♦︎ ♣︎

[skater-brain]

“He who stays an’ fights away lives today another fight!”

♠ RP blog for dumb skaterboy and former dead kid, Daisukenojo Bito ♥ Spoilers for The World Ends With You and NEO: The World Ends With You ♦ Selective; 20+ & single-character blogs only ♣ [index] | [about] | [rules]

[groovepawn]

Still screaming.

"YEAH! WHO NEEDS AN INSIDE VOICE?"

[skater-brain]

He's so proud of you, beautiful girl.

[groovepawn]

She inhales deeply, then exhales, screaming in his ear.

"HIII BEAT!" ♡

[skater-brain]

"Atta'girl. Now just remember to use yer voice like that all'a time!"

[groovepawn]

"Uhmmm... hi!"

[skater-brain]

"Would'ja speak up? I can barely hear ya down there."

[skater-brain]

✨︎ happy birthday twewy happy birthday nagi happy birthday me

[groovepawn]

“You know how they say idiots can’t get sick?” From her purse, she retrieves a tissue, dabbing his nosey. “You’re always sneezy and sniffly so I think you must be a genius.” | @skater-brain 🌻

[skater-brain]

Beat flailed desperately to pull his mask back up over his dewy red nose. He didn't need Shiki's help looking (and feeling) painfully uncool in this state.

"Quit it, yo! I ain't a genius," he insisted, like it was an insult. Maybe he had gotten a little better at realizing when he was being made fun of over the years, but he had yet to figure out how to fight back without self-owning. "An' I told'ju, I ain't sick! I'm jus'... allergic."

(Never mind that they were long past allergy season...)

[skater-brain]

✨︎ me update, made the mistake of rewatching the twewy anime so I'm having lots of thoughts about Bitos and crying for content that doesn't get everything wrong

✨︎ I'm fresh off my latest contract so I don't quite have the brain for writing yet, but I'm going to have a lot of free time for the foreseeable and might just get there if nobody stops me from barfing up stupid skaterboy takes

[skater-brain]

✨︎ I was busy on Thursday so Beat's birthday is on the weekend this year <3

[strawberista]

Hanekoma shook his head, hus whole body pulling back a bit as he tried to make sense of what Beat was saying. Something here wasn't coming off right. He didn't know what exactly hadn't translated properly to Beat, but something wasn't matching to how he remembered that conversation.

And he didn't want to give a bad apology. He didn't want to stand there and try to act like he didn't make a huge mess of things. But surely something here hadn't been properly understood or communicated.

"Wha-- Okay, Beat, I'm sorry but I have to clear something up here," he said, waving a hand over his head as if to dismiss the words Beat had just laid over him. "I wasn't gonna try to defend myself or anything, but something here isn't adding up, so I feel the need to explain. What I said to your mother, almost none of it was fueled by shit you told me. When I started the conversation, before I even knew she was your mother, I was under the impression that your folks were well intended but probably were disillusioned with some shit and didn't fully understand what was going on with you. I even agreed with some of the shit you told me. I figured if I ever met your folks I would probably be able to get along with em for the most part, maybe help 'em get back on track. But it was shit your mother said. To me. During that conversation. It was shit she said that made me go off on 'er like I did. All of that shit I said to her was a reaction to shit she told me during that conversation. Absolutely none of it was backed by what you told me. So you don't gotta feel guilty about that. That's not on your shoulders. Not only did she come into my shop insulting me outta the gate with no knowledge of who I was or my connection to you, for no other reason than the fact I'm a barista, but she also tried to pretend you didn't exist and then came back by telling me that you were nothing but a problem and I was an asshole for, ya know, actually learning who you are as a person. And that-- fucking pissed me off. It pissed me off that she wouldn't even consider any of the shit I had to say because she considered me less than fucking human just for being happy with my goddamn job. It pissed me off that she insinuated that I didn't know shit about what could help you just because she thinks I fucked my own life up so much. That's why I went off on her. It had nothing to do with what you said."

[skater-brain]

"It wasn't nuthin' I said? Then how come…?"

Beat short-circuited a bit, a nearly-audible record-scratch as Mr Hanekoma took the underlying assumption of the entire argument -- that Beat's complaining had convinced him he wasn't parented right -- and simply threw it out. Whatever momentum he had built up from the righteous outage of seeing his mother so distraught and the shame of taking responsibility for it, petered to nothing. The whole situation had to be re-approached from zero, which Beat did not have the analytical mind to do.

It was hard to sort out the details of what had gone wrong with Beat's culpability removed from the equation. But whether the idea had been seeded by Beat or not, "You still think I ain't treated right. Mum wouldn'a got that upset if nobody told her she hurt her kids!"

"'Course she said I'm a problem -- yo, I jus' toldju I try to be! Who cares if she goes 'round pretending her problem don't exist?" That meant that she didn't have any high expectations to brag about for her son, which was what Beat had been aiming for all along. "You dun' gotta defend my honour or whatever... let 'er focus on the good stuff.

"If she was bitchin' at you, go ahead 'n' go off. She'd deserve it." It was hard to imagine Junko Bito treating someone as less than human for the simple crime of serving coffee, but he had no problem believing that she wouldn't respect Mr Hanekoma as much as he did himself, and that was worth getting yelled at for. "But that ain't nuthin' to do with me! With me, I get what I ask for!"

[skater-brain]

“Happy birthday, Beat!” She throws her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, squishing her cheek to his over and over as she giggles. Merciful, she lets him go. “You’re another,” (ambiguous,) “year older, so know what that means, right?” She can barely hold still. “It’s time to take on a little more responsibility!” He’s on board, of course? Yeah?

From her purse, she retrieves a little doll. It looks a lot like him, wearing exactly the same tuque, wife-beater, and cargo pants combo from the first time they met. Instead of a skull emblem on his cap, it reads “Mini-Beat”. “Congratulations! You have a little /you/ now! He needs lots of love and greasy food. Take good care of him.” Another hug. “Happy birthday, Silly Boy!"

Beat caught Shiki in a hug, by now well-prepared to be enthusiastically tackled and presented with some wonderful, hand-personalized trinket whenever special occasions came around. What surprised him was the stated purpose of her buzzing celebratory mood when she let go.

"Responsibility?" Jeez, that sounded like his parents telling him he should learn to drive or work on his application to some prestigious school. Shiki wasn't getting any illusions that Beat could ever become a responsible adult, was she? She should know better. "Yo, I ain't..."

But she was quicker than his protestation, producing a wonderful, hand-made gift that he had to grab and play with immediately, his sudden doubt forgotten.

"It's me!" he crowed, joyfully wiggling the doll's arms and turning it all around to inspect the loving details. Everything Shiki could put together with her own two hands was already cool as hell, but the thought and effort sewn into Mini-Beat was a cut above, almost making him feel as soft as if he was the one made of cloth and stuffed with cotton. "I'll keep Mini-Me safe, no matter what!"

Beat gave Shiki a big smooch on the cheek in thanks when she went to hug him again. Though, despite his affectionate nickname, clearly Shiki was the silly one between them. "But--" When they let go of each other, he held up Mini-Beat to demonstrate the apparently-not-obvious differences between a doll and a human being. "I can't actually feed him, right...? Like, he ain't the real me, he'd jus' get dirty."

[skater-brain]

✨︎ another year, another flood of people wishing TWEWY happy birthday on the wrong day 😔

[groovepawn]

To Shiki, looking strong and capable was always part of what made Beat so handsome, be it in the shirt she made or otherwise. It didn’t matter that he was less bulky than he’d been when they’d met (the main reason she’d noticed his weight loss at all being concern for his health,) but he still looked and was much physically stronger than most boys their age Neku being no exception. Truthfully, she thought the outfit she’d chosen did a lot for his physique, but she of all people knew it best not to mention a person’s body unless directly asked. 

Ultimately, that wasn’t where her mind was at—because she was too focused on how giddy she currently felt still.

It’s like she’d forgotten all about her frustrations with his dullness and lack of ambition in their relationship, instead merely content to see him proudly modeling products she’d made. Shiki tilted her head curiously, not entirely sure what he’d meant by “looking like that”. “Like what?” she asked innocently. She didn’t know what there was to argue about when he looked so fashionable in his new clothes—because they were, make no mistake, his new clothes. There was no getting out of it now. 

Shiki almost didn't realize how happy she was until he made mention of it. She tilted her head down, her smile a touch more bashful now, especially as he complimented her. "Don't be silly," she said softly. While she wanted to look in the mirror at the two of them, she was almost too shy when standing next to someone she found so good-looking. After momentarily leaning into his embrace, she giggled shyly, stepping away, avoiding eye-contact completely now.

Taking in hand the dud items that didn’t work, she hung them on the return rack. “I’ll tell Miki to take the ones you're wearing out of inventory. I… want you to have them,” she certainly wasn’t about to make him pay, not after how happy his wearing them made her. 

It was times like this that she was reminded of why she loved making clothes so much.

[skater-brain]

Beat had been deliberately vague in saying that Shiki looked 'like that', because he didn't have the words to explain how much her joy radiated in her adoring gaze and pink cheeks and giddy smile -- like that, like she was so rightfully proud of handiwork and so in love with her model that no darkness would ever penetrate her bright glow ever again.

"Like you're cute as hell," he answered, less eloquently. "Smilin' like ya deserve to."

Like he'd finally done something right today, and he should roll with it as long as he could before he did something to ruin it.

"I thought'chu liked silly," he pointed out, wavering between self-aware teasing and honest confusion. The fondness with which she always used his Silly Boy moniker still gave him butterflies, but now with her insistence on faking being together, it felt likely that he had misjudged just how endeared she was by his 'silly' compliments. Not that it would stop him from generously handing them out. "You look amazing, yo. Always do, but... especially right now."

Shiki's reaction to seeing him having imbued him with confidence, Beat collected his abandoned clothes and bravely left the safety of the changing stall to follow behind her, his insecurity about his new outfit emphasizing his narrow silhouette and lean arms all but forgotten. He didn't really know what it meant to be 'taken out of inventory', given his lack of retail experience, but it was clear enough that Shiki had decided that he was going to walk out of the store without paying for what he was wearing.

"Whaa?" Sure, he could understand Shiki gifting him clothes from her label; he had collected more than enough hand-sewn scarves and hats and repaired garments over the years to know just how much she enjoyed making things for people. But... "Ain't I supposed to buyin' whatever makes you happy?" (Even if what made her happy was something for himself.) "Tha's what the boyfriend does. Even if you dun' want it to be a real date, I gotta get'chu something."

««

[strawberista]

Every single word felt like a knife straight to his heart. He could feel himself bleeding out, impaled on the denial of all of his faith and pride. To be told that everything he'd ever seen in Beat had been wrong. He knew that wasn't right. He knew it. So he didn't understand why Beat was denying it all so adamantly. Why he was so hellbent on proving Hanekoma wrong when before he'd been so happy to accept the praises given to him, even if he was huffy about it...

He couldn't have been reading it all wrong this whole time, right...?

A very easy way to figure that out would be to scan him, but he wasn't going to do that. Despite the fact that he really just felt like crying right now, he wasn't going to invade Beat's privacy without permission. He needed clear communication. He needed Beat to tell him the truth. To open up. Was this really the truth, or was he hiding something? He couldn't believe that Beat was lying, he knew that wasn't right. Beat had been vulnerable in front of him in ways that he couldn't deny no matter how much he tried to. He just didn't understand why Beat was so adamant to insist as much.

"Is that what you really believe?" Hanekoma said flatly, his eyes narrowing. "Is that really how you want me to see you? I'm sorry, Skater-brain, I can't do it. I can't look at you that way. I don't know why you wanna convince me so bad, but it's not gonna work. Listen. I'm not gonna approach your mom again. She stays away from here, I'll stay away from her. I won't talk to her, I won't say anything about her to anyone. I'm going to alter my behavior right now, for good, and I won't cause trouble for 'er ever again. You still scared, you... You don't have to come back here. I'm always going to welcome you. I'll always be happy to see you, but you don't have to be here if it makes you that uncomfortable. All I wanted was to take care'a you... And I overstepped. I understand that, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen again. If that's not enough... Then tell me how I can make you more comfortable. I can't take away all of the experience I have with you, but if there's something I can do to make you feel more comfortable about me being... here, in the same world as your mother, to make this any more bearable, more secure in the knowledge that this will never happen again, I will do anything in my power to meet your standards. So please. Talk to me."

He felt like falling out of his skin, like he wanted to curl himself away in the dark recesses of his soul and rot there like bad meat in the corner of a locker. He wanted to disappear, just for a little while. Hopefully this last bid for conciliation would give him some peace and lay all of this to rest.

[skater-brain]

Was what he was saying what Beat really believed? Yes. He was the one who was responsible for his clashes with his family. He was the one who wasn't good enough, and had ruined his relationship with his parents in trying to prove that he was never going to reach the bar they set for him. He was the one who had spent years being intentionally ungrateful for the opportunities and the privileged upbringing they had given him, to convince them that any effort they put into providing him with a stable future was wasted.

But was that how he wanted Mr Hanekoma to see him?

"'Course not, dumbass!" It warmed and chilled him both at once to hear Mr H so steadfastly refuse to see him as a problem. He wanted so badly to feel believed-in and worth helping, to be acknowledged and cheered on when he tried to grow instead of reminded that he could never measure up. But at the cost of accusing his mother of something so evil? Never. "But if you're gonna go thinkin' I ain't treated right, the hell kinda person I'd be if I didn't set ya straight?"

No matter how much of a problem he made himself out to be, Beat had the strongest sense of right and wrong of anyone. For better or worse, his conscience wouldn't let him leave Hanekoma with the impression that his parents had ever done anything to hurt him.

It was a small consolation when Mr Hanekoma promised to never cross swords with Mrs Bito again, but the damage was still done. Not to be repeated, maybe, but his mother was still wounded by the idea that her child would seed such lies against her, and Beat was still the undeserving object of pity. When he spoke again, the rage in his voice quieted somewhat, making the confusion underlying it more obvious -- the inability to reconcile the conflict (that he had caused) between his family and someone he looked up to so much.

"I want to be here." That had to clarified right away. Beat wouldn't be nearly as upset with this situation if Mr Hanekoma had been someone he was willing to let go of. "But the hell am I supposed to do, yo? I ain't lettin' you think you gotta take care of me, like my 'rents don't.

"You wanna make me comfortable? Then forget everythin' I ever said about 'em. I... I don't wanna hurt my family, man. I messed up 'n' gave you the wrong idea, so even if it makes you think I ain't worth lettin' around anymore... you gotta realize whatever you think goes on in my house ain't the truth. Don't blame Mum for me bein' a bad kid."

««

[strawberista]

His brows furrowed, knotting in the middle of his forehead as he silently accepted Beat's onslaught. What Beat was saying felt wrong. He didn't feel like he'd made anything up. He didn't feel like he'd said anything out of turn or untrue. He didn't feel like he'd lied to Junko or even made any radical statements about her. What had happened in their conversation to make him think that?

The hurt that Beat displayed at the idea Hanekoma might even consider him a victim, however... That legitimately ate at him. Was it really so bad for him to worry about Beat? The way he said it made it seem like being a victim was something to be ashamed of... Did he really feel that way?

He shook his head when Beat finally finished, his body sagging over the counter like this whole situation was a large block hoisted upon his shoulders, "Why would I think you're a problem, Beat? I know you. I know how hard you've worked to get where you are. I've watched you grow and I've been proud of you. I don't think you're a problem, and that's the main point of contention here. Your mother, by her own admission, does. I know it wasn't my place to step in with my insistence that I don't see you as a problem, though. I get that I should have stepped down and just said nothing. Sold my coffee and let her leave. I talk too damn much. I've always had that problem. I really am trying to get better about it..."

He avoided the whole victim question. That was a can of worms he didn't want to try to open with Beat right now. He somehow doubted that he could convince Beat that there was nothing wrong with being a victim. That abuse wasn't always an intention attack and that it didn't necessarily mean that his mother was actively trying to make his life worse. Junko really did seem to believe in everything she said, it was just that he didn't like what she believed. He felt it was harmful, really and truly.

He'd have to keep that to himself from now on. Maybe Beat really would stop coming to the cafe and he wouldn't be able to see him anymore, just like his other kids. Someone else he cared about and lost thanks to his own impulsivity.

One hand slipped down into his pocket to grasp desperately at the chunky red casino dice he always kept there, trying to find some semblance of comfort in this very difficult situation.

[skater-brain]

"Maybe ya don't know me!" Beat spat, immediately knowing it was a stupid thing to say but not being able to reconcile the opposing opinions about him any other way. Mr Hanekoma could scan him, for goodness's sake, but even if he couldn't literally read his mind if he chose to, he'd seen Beat when he was so low and seen him through enough turmoil that there really wasn't any question that he was one of the people in his life that knew him best.

But his parents knew him better. They had to. His mother had fifteen years of watching her son grow over what Hanekoma did, and watching him make himself as much of a problem as possible.

"I am a problem, 'cos I'm tryin' to be!"

The thing was, Beat treasured Hanekoma's opinion of him, deeply. He made it so easy to trust that he wasn't failure or a disappointment or an irredeemable fuck-up, and all he had ever wanted was his family to see him the same way. He didn't want to convince Mr Hanekoma that he was anything less than he believed. But for Hanekoma to tell his mother to her face that her approach to parenting -- what she dedicated her whole life to and pinned her whole identity on -- was flawed, that it was her fault she had a fragile relationship with her son, that she was subjecting her children to the very neglect she had always been desperate to protect them from... was wrong. The responsibility for Beat's malcontent didn't lie with her.

"All the crap I ever complained to you about 'bout my folks -- that was me bein' an ungrateful kid, on purpose!" It had always felt so good whenever Hanekoma sympathized with whatever grievances he brought or openly disagreed with his parents' actions, but-- "You weren't supposed to blame her! I only get what I'm askin' for!"

««

[groovepawn]

"Right," Shiki repeated his phrasing quietly, “pretty enough.” Enough—the keyword, implying there was a clear mark that needed to be met, and anyone with eyes would be able to realize Shiki did not and would never be able to cross that line. She felt a little resentful towards Beat for thinking that way and admitting it so eagerly, but at the same time, he wasn’t an outlier when it came to that mindset. Most men—most people, herself included, simply knew the fact to be true.

You were either pretty enough, or you weren’t.

She gave a nod towards Beat’s assumption. “Yeah, obviously she’d have to leave Gatto Nero… but if she had the chance to make her dreams come true, I’d want her to take it, no matter what.” Of course, it’d be a shame to lose such a wonderful employee, but Shiki honestly hoped that the time Miki spent at her company was merely a stepping stone in a long, successful career.

Beat went off, and Shiki had a feeling she knew which set he’d rather wear—the same top and bottom being her own first pick (but, hey, she decided to be nice and allow him the illusion of choice.) She’d long since memorized his measurements, and honestly she’d probably be able to eyeball it if need be. He called out to get her attention, seeming almost reluctant to show himself, and sensing his insecurity—she popped into the changing room with him.

Cut to Shiki, instantly fashioning a smile, a subtle blush blooming across her face.

If not only because he rarely wore this kind of thing, seeing someone she loved, wearing something she created with love, made her happier than just about anything else in the world.

“Handsome,” she giggled softly, the long sleeves of her cardigan flowing over her hands as she covered her flushing cheeks. “You look so handsome.” Standing next to him, she eagerly ushered Beat to look back in the mirror. “I know you’re not a huge fan of fitted things,” and it wasn’t that he looked bad in baggy clothing, “but I think it looks nice on you,” Shiki told him gently. It wasn’t often he wore clothes that showed of his leanness, so it felt truly special for the circumstances of a “date”.

Standing side-by-side as they gazed in the mirror, Shiki wrapped her arms around his midsection in an embrace much more genuine and personal this time, if only when shared between the two of them in the privacy of the dressing room.

“And,” Shiki added sweetly, “it makes me really happy that you’re wearing things I made.”

[skater-brain]

Beat still sensed nothing amiss in the discussion about Gatto Nero's sales associate, not suspecting that anything untoward could be taken from his hearty agreement with Shiki that her dreams were achievable. Rather, it made his chest warm to hear Shiki go on, insisting that Miki's dreams were far more important than her role in the store, and that she would be willing to make the sacrifice of a good employee for Miki's happiness. He never stopped feeling awe at Shiki's kindness and dedication to others, and he couldn't help but wish Rhyme was here listening, too. She was the one who needed to be inspired by Shiki more than him.

But for better or worse, Beat was the one who had all of Shiki's attention now, as she crammed herself into the stall of the fitting room with him. He hadn't really expected her to acquiesce to his request for more poorly-fitting clothes, but in his self-consciousness he also hadn't imagined that she would be so flustered as to ignore his ask completely in favour of blurting the first word on her mind.

Handsome. Her grin and rosy cheeks left no room to doubt that she was being honest, and even as she encouraged him to look back in the mirror, his eyes stayed on the joy in her reflection. His voice came out a shade quieter, betraying that all of his insides had suddenly gone soft. "... How'm I s'posed to argue when you're lookin' like that?"

To Beat, looking good was secondary to looking strong and capable and like he could protect what was important, and sadly no amount of praise was going to make him look enough like that for his own comfort -- but Shiki's reaction gave him such a swell of self-confidence that it successfully dwarfed that concern. He could live with just looking handsome instead of dependable for today, if it made her smile and hold onto him like that.

"Feels pretty damn good wearin' stuff you made, too, when you're that happy 'bout it." His face turned a bashful colour as he looked at the pair of them in the long mirror and secured her next to him in a one-armed hug. They looked good as a couple, both dressed out of their ordinary for a 'date', almost like they could belong together. "You're still the best-lookin' one in here, though."

««

[skater-brain]

“Beat!” Shiki comes rushing frantically to his side with some clickbait news article brought up on her phone. Abruptly, she holds the device up, not an inch from his face. “You have to see this, ‘cause I know you like Avril Lavigne,” (and therefore, she must be eliminated.) “It turns out she died years ago and was replaced with a look-a-like! Can you believe it?”

Beat immediately opened his mouth to protest that he didn't like Avril Lavigne that much -- it wasn't like he'd idolized her since he was ten years old or based his entire identity on the 2002 hit single Sk8er Boi or had recurring nightmares about being rejected for her hand in marriage because he couldn't tie a tie, or anything. But before he could defend himself, Shiki dropped the bombshell that was so much more pressing than pretending he didn't have a pathetic celebrity crush.

"Avril's dead?!" He snatched the phone out of her hands and held it even closer to his face. The evidence was... undeniable.

"I-I don't believe it..." He began to tremble. "She can't be! Avril'd never let a poser replace her!"

Suddenly, he grabbed Shiki by the shoulders. "We gotta save her! Yo, she's gotta be stuck in the UG, right?! She can still come back!"

[groovepawn]

Despite the incredibly informal “‘sup” that Shiki would’ve otherwise scolded him for using when addressing her work associate, Beat’s response that, yes, he was Shiki’s boyfriend, almost sounded as though it came naturally—like it were really true. She lowered her chin with a little shy smile as he put his arm around her, like he was even excited to show her off as his girlfriend.

Shiki nodded towards his assumption. “I have a few things in mind I want him to try on,” she explained, her eyes already scanning through the rows of hangers. “I’ll let you know if we need anything—thank you, Saionji,” she said, and with a simple “yes ma’am”, Miki left them to carry on.

Then, just like that, their relationship was once more delegated to falsehood when just between the two of them. Having gotten ahead of herself, Shiki gave an almost awkward pause, then stepping away, feeling a smidge disheartened as she began sifting through racks.

“She’s a nice girl,” she told Beat as they were alone. “She’s actually a little older than I am, so it feels weird being her boss,” or anyone’s boss for that matter, “but she’s really passionate, and good at her job.” Certainly better than Shiki ever could be as a retail associate. “She told me she wants to become a model, like her friend, but she doesn’t have the confidence…” Needless to say, Shiki herself could relate deeply. “I told her she should go for it.” From the corner of her eye, she tried to catch a glimpse of Beat’s expression, and while her next question was framed as rhetorical, she was curious how he’d react.

“She’s… really pretty, don’t you think?”

(Despite the off-handed comment, for better or worse, she was almost hoping he’d answer.)

In her arms, Shiki had collected two tops and two bottoms in his size: a Buckle Sleeve Shirt, a Zipper Shirt, a set of Frayed Cargo Pants, and a pair of Asymmetrical Jeans. Turning to Beat, she held them out to him. “You can pick which ones you like better, and go try them on.” She motioned to the fitting rooms nearby. “Then come out and show me, okay?”

[skater-brain]

It was a bit disappointing when Shiki let go of Beat as soon as Miki left them alone, underscoring that this was a ploy for the attention of other people and she saw no reason to hold him when no one else was watching. Beat felt the opposite; Shiki was extremely huggable, but it didn't feel fun to play it up while there were eyes on them if it was only while there were eyes on them. She was more to him than someone to be seen with, so being seen with her and nothing more just left him feeling sorry for himself.

Trusting Shiki to know what she was looking for, he just leaned on the rack with his hands in his pockets while she pored through hangers, listening to her chat. Despite the awkward, unsatisfied pit in his stomach that seemed to be settling in to stay for the duration of the fake date, his smile was warm and genuine and broadened as she went on. It was such a Shiki thing to always notice people's good points and give them the encouragement to do what made them happy; it must have made her a good boss.

"She respects you," Beat noted, clearly approving. After all, the easiest way into his good books was to treat his friends right. "It's cool you got a girl like that helpin' out, 'specially that she's older. She knows what's up."

He nodded at Shiki's question, glancing towards where the associate had wandered off to and back. "Hell yeah, she's pretty 'nuff for it." Modelling, that was. That was why Shiki was commenting on Miki's looks, right? "She should listen to ya. 'Cept, then you wouldn't have her in your store anymore, right...?"

That was a conundrum. Shiki deserved to be surrounded by people who admired her at work. But quickly his attention was returned to the task at hand, as he was shooed towards the fitting room with an armful of clothes. He'd been subjected to Shiki's measuring tape enough to be sure that she wouldn't have handed him something that was the wrong size, but if she still needed to vet how he wore her choices then so be it.

Despite being given multiple options, there was really only one combination he could wear. Skinny jeans with half a skirt sewn onto them were too close to cootie-territory for comfort, and the high-collared shirt would compete too much with his jewellery, so he stripped and changed into the Zipper Shirt and Cargo Pants. (It was much less exciting getting undressed alone in a changing stall than when Shiki had helped him into the clothes in his bedroom.) Naturally the pieces fit as they were supposed to -- which Beat realized was a problem when he caught a look at himself in the mirror.

He really had lost a lot of weight, and the perfectly-fitted shirt only made him feel smaller.

Frowning, he opened the door of the fitting room and called Shiki over, without stepping outside. Self-consciously, he tried to roll his sleeves down to hide the lack of bulk in his arms as much as possible. "... Got anything bigger than this?"

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