Mother Dear, I've fulfilled your fondest wishes.
This machine I've made will keep your sewing really flowing,
In fact we'll keep the whole nation in stitches.
Aaa-Ahhh~

Ikkaku grumbled to himself as he stormed through the wide hallway of the mall, shoving past some giggling women. Goddamn Men's Warehouse. He was never going back there.

He knew that he was a meat-headed slob. He knew that and he'd made peace with it, and he didn't need to hear it from anyone else. The nerve of that fucking blonde to talk to him that way. Lousy smoking French guy and his crass way of speaking to anyone who wasn't as dressed up as him. He'd gained a sympathetic look from his green-haired companion, who was musclebound and understood his predicament fully from the irritated glint in his eye as he cussed the suit-clad Frenchman right back in Ikkaku's stead. Still, it was beneath Ikkaku's dignity to do business with them after that, and he'd stormed off.

Way to make Ikkaku feel like an uncultured swine. It was no good. There was a reason he hadn't gone to his high school prom or anything else like it. He didn't feel comfortable in dress clothes. He didn't see the point of them, anyways. They weren't good for fighting in, and they made him sweat. He hadn't had to go to any funerals lately, and anyone he had been to a funeral for wouldn't have minded that he'd come in casual clothes anyway.

However, there was an upcoming occasion that he could not deny he needed to look nice for, and as such, he was on a search for something that would pass as acceptable. It hadn't been a good way to start the day, to be jeered at for his complete ignorance of how to dress nicely. He'd like to kick that blonde guy in the head. Where did he get off smoking indoors anyway?

Ikkaku gave a long irritated sigh. He was a failure of a friend. He couldn't show up to a wedding looking awful; even he wasn't that heartless. But now what was he going to do? He was not going back to that place. He'd had enough of looking like a fool for one day, thank you very much.

Flopping down on a bench with a grunt, scowling hard enough that his face hurt, Ikkaku sulked for a few minutes, wondering how that green-haired guy had survived in that store working with someone like that blonde idiot. Admittedly, the cigarette-smoking blonde knew how to dress, but Ikkaku had no desire to get advice from the likes of him. God, that made him so mad.

What was he gonna' do now? What could he do? With a sigh, Ikkaku wondered about looking through Old Navy for pre-packaged dress shirts, but thought 'nah', because he didn't even know what his shirt size was anyway. Well, what were his options then? He couldn't return home as a failure. God, he couldn't look horrible at this wedding, or he'd never forget it. He was already feeling guilty and nothing had even happened yet. He couldn't be a best man and show up in a Black Sabbath T-shirt; Fuck, he was such a loser!

Dejected, Ikkaku got up and moped along. That blonde guy was right. He was a measly excuse for a man. What kind of degenerate couldn't even buy a suit and bear a little mockery? Sighing, Ikkaku passed by Deb's, realizing he'd come to the end of a corridor, with Younkers at the end.

Maybe he could acquire a life-threatening illness that would excuse him from attending the wedding? No, that was no good. Ikkaku wanted to go. He had been so happy to hear that his friends were finally getting hitched, and he really wanted to be there to see it. He wanted to go to a bachelor's party and make sure they got crazy, but not too crazy. He wanted to drink and see them stuff their faces with cake and slow dance. Marriage was a big deal. Even he couldn't deny that. He wanted to go, and he wanted to look nice. He couldn't let his kouhai down; Renji was counting on him to take care of everything.

Admitting defeat, he kicked the wall and turned, looping around to walk back the way he'd came along the opposite side of the hall. Absently looking up, he paused as he looked at a few models in the glass window wall at the front of the tiny shop. The dresses were floor length and incredibly expensive looking. What got him was the intricate detailing of the beads on the outside of the bodice. Was that a phoenix?

"What the fuck," he said breathlessly, leaning closer until his breath fogged up the glass. That must've taken ages to make. It was definitely a one of a kind piece. He took a step back, peering through the mannequins towards the back of the store, which was probably the smallest section in the entire mall. It was in the very corner of the last hallway and it only needed two light fixtures to keep it lit.

If Ikkaku wasn't mistaken, there were suits in there too. To his surprise, in the window, there was a ridiculously good deal on men's wear, written on a tiny piece of printer paper. This place must not get much business. Shrugging, he went inside, not seeing any employees. There was soft classical music playing, and the lights were slightly dimmed, which made the intricately placed beads and sequins of the dresses gleam. Altogether, it was considerably less intimidating than the Men's Warehouse, in which you were selling your arm or leg to rent a suit from a crass ill-tempered curly-eyebrowed weirdo who obviously wished that his customers were beautiful women.

The shop was definitely obscure, and probably didn't get many customers, men least of all due to the five to one ratio of the dresses and suits. Ikkaku was sure that this store hadn't been here the last time he'd come to the mall, but that had been ages ago anyway. He bought most of his things online or at the grocery store.

There were a few shelves on the left side of the room, all built into the wall, and in the center of that section was a round cushion that could obviously be stood upon. Ikkaku was surprised to see some pins sticking out of it. There were a few half-open boxes of sewing supplies that were strewn on the floor. Immediately, it was clear that everything in the shop was handmade.

On the right side of the room, there were a few boxes stacked, dresses hanging up, and a counter with a cash register. There was a corridor along the middle of the back wall of the room, which led to a changing room and a place for the employees to lurk. Ikkaku could see a shade set up back there for customers to change behind. There were probably three-paneled mirrors back there. Jumping when he heard a loud rhythmic clatter, he recognized that there was a sewing machine in the hallway too. He didn't know how he had missed them, but someone was sitting there working, just inside the doorway to the little hall so that they were still in view of the register, but not being overly obvious.

Frowning in concern, he leaned his head around, trying to see if there were any other employees lurking behind him. When he still didn't see anyone, he approached a shelf which housed a few jackets, hanging on a rod. The quality seemed perfect to Ikkaku, but he still knew nothing about sizes. This was going to be painful, but he'd have to ask for… dun, dun, dun… help.

Swallowing, he scuffed his foot on the floor and cast a glance to the employee who was working diligently at the sewing machine on a bright fuschia dress. They were so absorbed in what they were doing that they didn't even seem to notice that Ikkaku was there at all.

The man paused in his work and sniffed, adjusting the table lamp he had hovering over his work station. Curling his hair behind his ear, Ikkaku could see that he had needles in his teeth. Immediately, he was shocked by how clear his skin was and his hands proved that this was definitely a guy. They were smaller than Ikkaku's, but it was still clear that they weren't a woman's hands, no matter how well kept they were. Ikkaku immediately wanted to hold those hands and take a look at them - a weird impulse, but not one that he hadn't experienced before.

Fascinated by how focused and elaborate his skills were, Ikkaku watched for a few minutes, looking him up and down. He had on a white and grey striped shirt, and a flimsy powder-blue jacket on over that, with argyle details and pockets full of thread spools and scissors and the like. A gold watch glinted on his wrist, his leggings were a medium grey, and he wore simple black flats that rhythmically pressed on a mechanical pedal that made his sewing machine speed up.

He was kind of pretty.

Immediately, Ikkaku felt like this was a huge mistake, but he had to admit that all the work on display was absolutely amazing. He could give the guy the benefit of the doubt, right? Hopefully he wouldn't turn out as flamboyantly gay as that other guy…

"Hey, um…" He cleared his throat and announced his presence. To his surprise, the pretty employee didn't skip a beat or do more than look up. Ikkaku had been sure that he would've startled him, but he hadn't at all.

Getting flustered when that trained gaze fell upon him, Ikkaku felt pretty intimidated when he continued sewing without watching what he was doing. "Can I help you?" Ikkaku just gaped at him for a minute as his suspicions were confirmed. The moment the man spoke, it was immediately clear that yes, he was indeed gay. Ikkaku felt heat rising in his face. At least if he'd been straight, Ikkaku would've been able to tell himself that he had no chance, but no, he was gay, so Ikkaku could torture himself with the idea that he just might go for him. Fuck, but he was so damned pretty that Ikkaku didn't know what to say. Should he leave?

When he took too long to reply, the man paused in his work, his graceful hands bringing a stray thread up to his mouth so he could cut it between his teeth. With that, he turned in his chair, slender legs crossing as he put his hands in his lap and looked up to him expectantly. He didn't seem irritated that Ikkaku had interrupted his work, but all the same, he felt bad. Ikkaku looked down, eyes reflexively following the long line of those skinny legs, right down to his pretty feet.

Suddenly, Ikkaku felt like he'd been single long enough.

Forcing himself to remember what he'd meant to say, he grunted, "Um, I'm here to buy a suit." Able to flick his eyes up to him long enough to catch a glimpse of his name-tag, he bit his lip as Yumichika met his choppy uncertain gaze smoothly, which was really intimidating. His voice was mellow and dulcet, very calm and relaxing, although it didn't do much to slow Ikkaku's pulse. He was still fired up from being so mad earlier, and such a pretty face didn't help tame the heat.

"Wonderful," Yumichika replied, turning back to his work, and Ikkaku immediately felt the loss, even though he didn't know what to do with the attention when he had it. "Everything on the shelves is arranged by size," Yumichika continued dismissively, to Ikkaku's embarrassment. He couldn't stop watching his graceful hands as they worked. He looked agile enough to catch a grain of rice out of the air with a pair of chopsticks.

Besides that, his skin seemed like it was fucking glowing, and altogether, the calm serene attitude the guy had was striking Ikkaku dumb. It made him feel exceedingly stupid.

"I don't know my size," Ikkaku said flatly. Yumichika looked up to him then, seeming confused and a little exasperated. It was that same look on that blonde's face before he'd started berating him. Ikkaku gritted his teeth, preparing for war.

"You don't have a single suit of your own already?" Yumichika asked in disbelief, still keeping a semblance of politeness in his voice, which kept Ikkaku from turning on his heel and marching out while he still had his pride. He wasn't going to let this effeminate little wisp make fun of him too. It was one thing to have a more masculine gay guy pushing him around, but this was something else entirely.

Ikkaku shook his head, grunting.

"I see," Yumichika said, smiling and meeting his eyes again, switching his sewing machine off with a sharp click. He stood up, and Ikkaku moved back immediately when he got a little too close. He saw Yumichika cover his mouth as he realized his mistake, but he hid it quickly, bowing a little and clasping his hands in front of him.

"I apologize," Yumichika said, hair falling on either side of his face. Ikkaku realized that he was apologizing about making him fend for himself, not for getting too close, but he still felt the sentiment in his words, because Yumichika seemed to be making an effort to be very professional so as not to scare him away. Maybe Ikkaku's shyness had seemed like disgust. Just imagining Yumichika having to deal with people sneering at him when they picked up on his 'queer' attitude made Ikkaku's stomach turn. It had to be difficult to be polite to customers who obviously thought you were revolting.

The problem for Ikkaku was that he felt completely the opposite, and he wasn't exactly out of his 'mean-to-the-people-he-likes' stage.

Yumichika walked past him to the center of the room where that cushion was, rummaging in a few of his boxes and carrying them back to his work table. "Were you thinking of having something specially made?" he asked, standing nearer to Ikkaku than most would when they would speak together. Ikkaku took a step back, unnerved by the soft cool gaze; the unwavering eye contact seemed too personal, even though Ikkaku knew that it was polite to look someone in the face when you talked.

"Custom tailored?" Yumichika added, hands intertwined in front of him, one foot behind the other as he stared in rapt attention. Ikkaku didn't like being put on the spot like this, even though it was just the two of them here. With those eyes on him, he felt like he had an audience or something.

"Yeah, I saw your deal, so…" Ikkaku's nerves were still rather high strung, and he was still pissed from earlier, not eager to talk to another guy like this, but if he wasn't mistaken, under his professional façade, Yumichika seemed anxious too. He must not get many male customers, and the ones he did manage to snag must be terribly rude. Maybe Yumichika suspected that Ikkaku didn't find his lifestyle to be 'proper', which wasn't exactly true, given the kind of wedding Ikkaku was going to, but all the same, Yumichika's demeanor was unnerving.

The guy didn't blink when he listened, and it made Ikkaku incredibly nervous.

"Excellent," Yumichika said shortly with a smile. "I'm Yumichika, I'll be the one helping you." Yumichika held out his hand for a handshake, which took Ikkaku half a second to process, because not many people actually did that anymore. Still, he conceded, replying with his own name. Yumichika smiled at him, eyes flicking down for a moment. "Would you like to browse for a while, or are you quite sure that you'd like to purchase something custom-made?"

"I'm positive. I can't go home with nothing today," Ikkaku confirmed. Yumichika nodded in satisfaction.

"If you'll just stand in the light?" he asked, walking past him and holding an arm out to show where he wanted him to stand. Ikkaku nodded a moment too late and walked over there stiffly, standing rigid. He was sure that he was going to fuck something up, and looked to Yumichika uncertainly as he waited for him to approach. Yumichika just gave a sweet sigh, smiling again at him. "Perfect. If I could just take a look at you," he trailed off, and Ikkaku stood there, clenching his fists as Yumichika ducked around him with a critical eye.

He didn't get very close, frowning cutely as he walked around him in a circle, leaning back slightly to see him better. Yumichika's face didn't reveal what he thought of Ikkaku's appearance, but all the same, Ikkaku held rock-still, trying to arch his back. He felt himself sweating under his collar as Yumichika hummed to himself. He wasn't sure if he wanted this guy's opinion on clothing, even if he was the one who had made all the nice things in the store. If Ikkaku didn't know better, he might be the shop's owner, but still, he didn't know if he wanted clothing advice from someone who dressed like that. Not that Yumichika didn't look amazing in his own way, but that didn't mean that Ikkaku wanted to dress like him.

Yumichika tapped his own lips, coming back around to stand in front of him, his eyes still crawling over his chest and legs thoughtfully. Ikkaku grit his teeth as Yumichika mumbled, "You will have a lot of options…" With a swift inhale, Yumichika straightened up and met his eyes shamelessly, smiling. "Your body type is well-suited for a lot of different styles."

"I wouldn't know," Ikkaku said, shrugging.

"You'll need my eyes then," Yumichika commented, smiling softly. Ikkaku's gut clenched up. God, he couldn't take this anymore. Was this guy flirting with him? Probably not, but maybe that was what Ikkaku hoped was happening. Even if he wanted this guy to be impressed with him, somehow he felt a little sick. Ikkaku was one of those people who was so uncomfortable with taking compliments and kindness that he couldn't stand still. The personal attention was getting to him already. Lashing out, he raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

"I don't know… I don't wanna' end up looking like that," he gestured towards Yumichika's clothing, which wasn't all that bad in itself. Everything he had on was soft and gender-neutral, but still, when Ikkaku looked at him it caused hatred to build in his stomach. It wasn't fair for someone to make him feel so useless and stupid by looking so good with such a small effort. Maybe it was just the secret vendetta insecurity always held against confidence.

Yumichika's smile faded a little, and Ikkaku could see that he'd hurt his feelings. Hoping that Yumichika would snap something back at him, he was disappointed when Yumichika just closed his eyes and inhaled with a bitter smile, a nerve pinching in his forehead. Patiently, he opened his eyes again as if he were used to harassment. Making Ikkaku feel like the biggest jerk in the world, he looked down to his clothes, his taped-fingers, his disheveled hair, and the tools in his pockets. "This is of my doing," he said with a short forced laugh. "Look at my work, and not at what I wear, please," he said in a clipped tone, obviously feeling strained.

Feeling like a dick for being mean, Ikkaku scratched at the back of his neck. "Sorry, that was rude," he forced out, hoping that he hadn't made Yumichika feel bad about himself. Yumichika skated over it, ignoring him and going back to appraising his appearance, leaning around him a little, although he wasn't getting nearly as close as before. Ikkaku inwardly grumbled at himself because he could see that he'd made Yumichika think that he was dealing with a machismo-obsessed homophobe.

"Hm," Yumichika said lightly, not seeming upset anymore, going right back to his tentatively sweet attitude. "I see that you didn't come in anything."

"Huh?" Ikkaku grunted stupidly, still just reeling at how beautiful those eyes were and how cute he looked when he smiled. Wow… Purple, what a color. He had to say, that voice of his was soothing his irritation like warm honey, even though he felt so uncomfortable in his presence. Yumichika was just so pretty, and Ikkaku hoped to God that Yumichika couldn't tell that he thought that.

"What do you mean?" Ikkaku asked, because he was clearly wearing clothes, right?

Yumichika clarified that he'd come in a t-shirt and jeans. Ikkaku immediately understood why that blonde guy had been so unforgiving when he'd waltzed into his store, not knowing anything about what he was purchasing in the least. "You're not wearing anything I can work off of, like a dress shirt or pants."

Ikkaku just let out a low 'oh', scuffing his foot on the ground. Yumichika took in a breath and clapped his hands together as if he couldn't wait to get started. "You'll have to borrow some and try them on, if that's alright with you. This may take some time," he warned, uncertainty finally showing itself in his gaze. Ikkaku stammered a little, because Yumichika was so steady in looking him in the eye that it almost felt like a violation.

"I have a few hours to kill," he muttered hotly. Yumichika beamed, not skipping a beat as he moved through the small racks of clothes, continuously looking back to him as he talked so that he could compare sizes.

"Perfect," Yumichika said with a smile, and Ikkaku half-grinned back. "What kind of occasion is this piece for?"

"My friends are gettin' married," Ikkaku replied off-handedly, shrugging, trying to get used to the eye-contact. It wasn't so much that he didn't like the personal attention. It was just that he didn't like liking it, if that made sense.

"Ah, a wedding," Yumichika confirmed, sorting through some suit-jackets, making Ikkaku feel kind of stupid just standing there like a dork. "That's nice," he commented sweetly. "You'd like something traditional then?" he asked, looking back to him politely whenever he spoke. Ikkaku couldn't handle it. He knew that this guy was just trying to give him good customer service, but the kindness was still getting to him. Maybe Ikkaku was so pissed because he wasn't brave enough to flirt with him.

"I just don't wanna' look like a slob," he muttered, eyes flicking up to Yumichika's when he made a pitying noise.

"Hm, I see," Yumichika said, pausing and turning to him again, taking a look at him to envision what kind of things Ikkaku might like. "Something sharp and clean, then. I'm sure just about anything would look good on you. You're very athletic," Yumichika said flippantly as he dug through the closet. Ikkaku didn't say anything, nervously looking down. He felt like hitting the little twerp for that, but it was still a nice thing to hear.

'Don't fuckin' be nice to me.'

"Hm," Yumichika hummed melodically, swaying to the soft violin music playing as he looked back to Ikkaku again, eyes narrowing. "We may want to play it safe, though," he mumbled, turning back to the closet. "Do you have a favorite dress shirt or slacks that you'd like to use?"

"No," Ikkaku answered, feeling like a complete dingus. At least Yumichika wasn't making fun of him and his complete inadequacy as a man like that other guy had.

"So, you'll want a dress shirt, a jacket, and pants for your suit?... Maybe a vest?" he asked, not even batting an eye as Ikkaku admitted that he had no idea what he was doing. It was a nice change to have someone take him seriously for once, not thinking of him as a complete joke. Well, maybe Yumichika did think he was a joke, but he wasn't showing it at least, which Ikkaku was grateful for.

"Yeah, and a tie," he added. Yumichika nodded, pulling back from the closet with a few things folded over his arm. He lovingly stroked them once and then patted them, backing up from Ikkaku once more to take a look at him. Ikkaku still had a temper, but worse than that, he felt a little shy.

Yumichika didn't comment on that as he stood back and muttered something about a jacket with a V-shape to accent his ropy body type. Ikkaku looked up, and Yumichika smiled in his face. Holy shit. Ikkaku grabbed his chest when he got a heart palpitation. "Alright, we'll get started then," Yumichika said, ignoring his discomfort. "I'm just going to ask you to try on a few things, and… I will take your measurements," he said, pausing as he unfolded the garments from his arm, holding them out for Ikkaku to take. "We'll decide on all the details together."

He held them out, and when Ikkaku didn't take them, he said, "Here."

"Oh," Ikkaku took them, and held them cluelessly until Yumichika told him to size them against his body. Ikkaku held them up, pursing his lips questioningly. Yumichika patiently explained, taking a shirt from him and pressing it against his chest.

"Like this," he said, already lost in his own head as he held up something else against Ikkaku's torso in comparison. Ikkaku just stood there, rigid, blinking as Yumichika talked to himself, seeming at ease in Ikkaku's personal space. Ikkaku swallowed hard, getting a waft of perfume. "Hm, this may be a bit too small… Uh, here, I'll take that, and," Yumichika took the rejects back, and handed the ones he'd deemed acceptable to Ikkaku. When Ikkaku stood there for a moment longer, Yumichika smiled and asked, "Will you please put these on, and then I'll measure you."

"Okay," Ikkaku said uncertainly, taking a wary look at the dress clothes as he walked back to the changing room. Yumichika followed behind to his chagrine, showing him the wooden shade he could change behind. There was indeed a three-way mirror, and excellent lighting that would make for good quality photos.

Feeling ridiculous, Ikkaku set the stuff down and looked to Yumichika, who just added, "I'd just like to tell you that the things you put on won't look like the final product. I'm just using these as a base for your measurements, so don't worry if you don't like any of the things I picked out. We'll decide afterwards what the piece will look like, okay?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku answered, which was a bit of a relief, because he didn't exactly like everything Yumichika had grabbed. That made a little bit more sense; Yumichika had just been looking for something that would fit him. Yumichika gave him a smile and backed out into the hallway to give him some privacy.

Ikkaku stood there doubtfully for a minute or so, feeling exposed as he looked around. He'd expected a changing stall of some sort, but nope, he was basically out in the open. Peeking out into the small hallway, he could see Yumichika sitting down at his work table again, needles back in his mouth as he waited for Ikkaku to get a move on.

Well damn, he was in too deep to back out now. Ikkaku shrugged and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

Hello, welcome to our shop, which specializes in formal clothes for men. Hopefully, I can help you find something suitable.
I was paid to say that.