Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hitsuga did not know what it was, exactly, that passed for perfume in this world but the scent had been so cloying and so pungent he could still taste it on the back of his tongue. All the shopkeeper had done was spray a small amount on the air to illustrate her point that as, she too, was a seller of perfumes, she could not advertise for a rival shop and it had been enough to make him gag.

....he hadn't, of course. He'd kept his reaction well-hidden until he'd been back outside to breathe deeply of the afternoon air. And, in spite of himself, found he was relieved to have his shop unassociated with such things. He had been aware of some perfumers who resorted to synthetic scents when the natural oils they desired were unobtainable due to location or time of year, but....creating a product entirely of synthetics? To the point that one could not tell what, at all, the perfume was meant to smell like?

He felt a change of clothes was in order....just in case the scent lingered elsewhere on his person than in his sinuses.

Padding down the hallway, he opens the bedroom door, starting a bit to see Baikou perched on the edge of the bed. It is taking him, perhaps, a bit longer than necessary to adjust to having a second person under his roof.

Hitsuga apologizes... sweatdrop If Baikou was about to lay down, he'll come back later...

No, he doesn't mind, he assures her.

Given that Baikou is calling it her own for the moment, he imagines she can arrange it to her liking. He has yet to acquire very many personal belongings to upset anyway....

The young man gives her a faint smile.

He is glad for her feeling better, though.

Even as Hitsuga projects the thought, he knows that he means it as more than a formality. Seeing her without the stiffness in her posture of an old woman, and without feeling the gnat swarm of her aches and pains clouding about her is refreshing to say the least.

That? That's...

....that's why he'd come in here in the first place sweatdrop

Gaians, apparently, have very odd ideas about perfume, he tells her. He is sure the shopkeep he spoke to today is a perfectly fine woman, but he's afraid that her wares are a bit....

Unable to think of a polite way to word it, he leaves it alone, moving to the dresser to tug open the drawer and retrieve his spare clothes.

He'll have to wash what he's wearing before it sets in, he supposes...

He hesitates, and then, maybe allowing for the fact no one is around to be offended by his response to her statement, lets himself meet her laughter with his own.

A bit like that, yes.

Straightening the outfit and folding it over the crook of his arm, carefully trying to keep it, likewise, from becoming infected with dead peach, he looks over his shoulder at her, face partially veiled by well-groomed dark bangs.

While he can think of the sort of reception the Empire might give this world's customs and people, he has trouble fathoming the Gaians' reaction, he admits, still smiling. Trying to imagine Master Boyan or Lady Melody having the same values and restrictions impressed upon them that the two of them grew up with is...well, its unimaginable.

It is as though someone's yanked the rug out from beneath his mind, sending his neatly-organized thoughts sprawling into a turmoil of disarray.

He...

Erm....

He blinks at her, trying to discern if she's being serious, even as red blooms his cheeks.

Is it really that big of a deal? Really? She isn't a leper, you've seen one another in all sorts of disarray over the years. The least of which, certainly, should be changing clothes...

But that was the problem. Since the incident six years ago, things were different now. Things had changed. In ways he wasn't sure he could explain.

She is still only Baikou at the end of the day. Just as you are still only Hitsuga.

And that....he finds he has a hard time arguing with as he allows himself to meet her eyes.

He---yes, he would just be changing the outer layers. He imagines anything further would be a bit much. Hesitating, he steps close enough to surrender the outfit to her.

However, he believes he can tie his own belt... sweatdrop

He doesn't suppose that it's anything he can't manage, he tells her as he carefully undoes the neatly-wrapped pink sash about his waist and sets it aside to shrug out of the faded red outer garment that still has the ghost of synthetics clinging to it.

It is a good sort of tired, to be working. And, he admits, he is a bit excited to see how things may be received by Gaia's people.

As for shopping...

His expression falters as he vents a sigh, allowing himself to sink onto the edge of the mattress to be at eye level with her.

They may need to wait a bit, he's afraid. His funds will be tight as things get started, so its fortunate that they had stocked the kitchen when they did.

But--But they will go, he promises quickly, hoping not to upset her. As soon as things ease up a bit, they will go.

He clears his throat, sitting up a bit straighter, feeling a pang of self-consciousness, and then nods. He is eating fine, he assures her. If he misses any meals it is not because he doesn't have access to them, but because he is too wrapped up in his own thoughts or work to remember to feed himself.

Those days have been happening less lately, though, if it makes Baikou feel better. Her staying with him has left him little room to lock himself away all day at his desk.

If--if she likes, he goes on, wriggling out of the crosshairs of the conversation. Once he's finished with the project he's tasked himself with for today, they can go walking...? Hitsuga cannot promise Baikou they will find anything other than noise, but....