Welcome to Gaia! ::

A projection follows the knock immediately, politely informing the visitor that he will be there in a moment.

The politeness is a work of art in itself on his part as 'polite' does not describe how he's feeling at the moment at all. The last of the broken glass had been swept up, and the scrub brush and soapy water had cleaned away the bulk of the oil on his workroom floor, though the air within still stunk unbearably of fresh cedar.

Watching the spectacle safely from beneath the cupboard where Hitsu could not reach her to eject her from the room, Kan stared at Hitsuga as he cleaned up the mess she'd made only a moment earlier. She, however, was blameless. She had only been investigating the strange army of things that sat on The Pale One's table. It was not her fault that one in particular had wobbled off of the edge... stare

With the broken bottle of cedar oil more or less dealt with, and a final annoyed look in the direction of the cabinet, Hitsuga regained his feet, quickly rearranging himself and expression into something more presentable to greet his visitor.

By the time he reaches the storefront, one would not have guessed he was scowling a moment prior as he greets Tenkyuu with a warm smile and a bow.

How may this one serve Madame?

His expression, at first, falters into one of confused self-consciousness when she begins to laugh as he takes a quick mental inventory of himself. Was his face a mess? Were his clothes out of order, whatwhatwhat?? gonk

At her explanation, however, he realizes exactly what she finds amusing and his cheeks deepen in color. Oh, that...!

He answers her chuckle with one of his own, offering his thanks as he bows back to her. It was, admittedly, not a turn Hitsuga had been expecting for his life, but...

....but that is neither here nor there. he adds, shooing it away lightly in favor of the matter at hand.

What sort of perfume might Madame Tenkyuu be interested in?

His brows raise inquisitively, clearly having not been expecting this sort of answer.

Well, he...

He clears his throat, quickly recollecting his thoughts. No, he doesn't suppose that's an unreasonable request, he offers, folding his hands over one another.

Fragrances can be, after all, very personal things to others. One would want to make sure the person they are asking them of would handle their memories or visions with care, yes? 3nodding

Even as he says so, however, his mental wall lifts itself a bit. He can see the logic in it, yes, but that does nothing for making him feel uncomfortable to be put on the spot by a stranger as he wonders what sort of things she may wish to know of him...

The blush in his cheeks deepens. Though....privately, he doesn't suppose its achingly personal of a question. Not on the level its been asked, at least....

Hitsuga's wife....is someone who has been dear to him for as long as he can recall, he tells Tenkyuu. When they were children, she was the stronger of the pair of them, and went through life two steps ahead as a guide and protector. In those days, he loved her as he would love family.

It was a love he didn't think would mature beyond that, but...the years have proven this one to be wrong.

Hitsuga understands, of course....and he will do his best to accommodate Madame's queries.

Tenkyuu will forgive him, however, if he finds himself unable to answer certain questions, he hopes. sweatdrop Like her, he is somewhat of a closed person.

Though....

Noting a shelf that is slightly out-of-sorts from the light handling the bottles have received from visitors, he steps quickly across the room to tend to it, pale hands fluttering over the perfumes, straightening them, putting them back into meticulous order.

Though the subject of he and Baikou is not one he feels particularly guarded against after all that's happened, he supposes.

His expression of cordiality slips into one of worriment at first, and then into one of similar seriousness as he nods once.

Hitsuga assures Madame that he takes great care with his customers on the matter of commissioned perfumes. Most are founded on a dear memory or a vivid dream....some that are hard to talk about. And he does not take such trust placed in him lightly.

In fact...

Dark eyes wander to the propped door and then he steps around Tenkyuu to nudge the stone holding it open aside, letting it close gently to avoid any unwanted third parties wandering in, and then turns to regard her once more, head inclined a bit to wordlessly tell her that he is ready to listen when she is ready to speak.

...and Hitsuga's own thoughts privately turn to the sea.

The seaside where he had spent his childhood years. The bone-white strip of beach near his home that he and Baikou had walked countless times, looking for shells, and talking over their pressing eight-year-old matters with one another. The sigh of the salty air through an open window at night...

.....and how all of those memories and smells had sickened him to the point of moving further inland, into the mountains to be away from them. How all they reminded him of were sweet memories that had been soured by guilt and panic.

Dragging himself back to the present, he keeps those thoughts carefully hidden, and promises himself that, for the sake of the project and integrity of his work, he will give it an honest effort regardless.

This one is a child of Rinkoku, he tells Tenkyuu at last. So, he is quite familiar with the scents she's described. And he will, of course, do his best to capture the sea in one of his bottles for Madame Tenkyuu.