Tristan quietly followed Mrs. Yukimura inside the same store where he had pieced his suit together with Hibiki's father a little over a week earlier. Unlike her husband she didn't outright demand to be helped – rather she seemed more than comfortable expecting a clerk to notice them. When the clerk noticed, she smiled at him and gave a polite but rather quick bow.

"Ah good morning! Are you here to pick up your order?" The man asked with a nod of his head back.

"Yes. The name is Yukimura." Although she spoke friendly and politely, Tristan picked up that she was very in control of the conversation, much like she had been with him. The way she carried herself, and let others talk to her, rather than demand or unnerve them into speaking betrayed a very patient and calculated confidence. In some ways it reminded him of the fire he saw in Hibiki, except better tempered and utilised.

"Give me just a moment." The clerk said, and he could tell he was slightly nervous just because she was so cool and well-mannered. The man stepped behind the counter and began looking underneath, presumably for the clothes.

"Don't worry, we will just look around for a moment." She responded calmly, simultaneously reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder and smile at him. He suddenly understood why the clerk was so anxious now that same confidence was directed at him. At least being in Hibiki's vicinity had prepared him enough to smile and nod graciously.

When she gestured further into the store he obliged and went ahead of her, even when he wasn't certain exactly where she wanted him to be. About three quarters of the way through he turned around to check out a neatly organised display full of handkerchiefs in nearly every colour and pattern. He saw that Mrs. Yukimura had left behind her PA and the bodyguard at the counter, so they had a moment of privacy.

"If there is anything you see that you like, just say so." She said with a smile and a gentle touch on his upper arm. He smiled back and nodded, even though he felt it would be disrespectful to ask for more than he had already gotten.

Somehow he caught her smile widening as she took up a cornflower blue handkerchief and examined it – the very same one his eye had fallen on for a moment at first glance.

"Sometimes it can be very difficult telling people what we want," she continued with a smile, as she carefully laid the handkerchief down atop the display. "Because it means we have to let others know what we like, and need, and that leaves us open for others to use against us."

"To be manipulated." He continued, figuring it was no use to be dishonest with her as she had already planned this conversation.

"It can be very alluring when someone is dependent on us to use their needs against them."

"Yeah..." A slight chuckle escaped him, as he realised who she was talking about. "It can be hard to trust when someone used every bit of leverage to keep you under control." He bit down on his lip, not wanting to sound angry but he felt that thus far she had understood him well enough.

"But if you don't trust, then you will never find the people that just want you to be yourself." She nodded, and he couldn't tell if she spoke from some experience or whether she just drew a natural conclusion from his words.

"There are very few people that want me to be myself. Some have plans, and some have stereotypes, some just beat me into a pulp when I speak up." He knew he was being too honest, and that was exactly what she wanted him to be: perhaps so she could be honest with him too, or maybe to see who he truly was so she could judge him.

"It can be difficult to be a parent." Her words innately enraged him, expecting some excuse to be made for his mother. Maybe he had misjudged her. "I have yelled at Hibiki when I shouldn't have, and I have told him things out of fear, and anger and sadness that I shouldn't have. But never, never, have I hurt him for being who he is, no matter how scared I was that it would hurt him eventually. Because I am his mother, even when he is mistaken, or rude, or does something I don't agree with. What your mother did, makes her not a mother at all – because if she loved you she would not have, no matter how she felt." There was a kind of anger in her voice too, yet somehow it soothed him, as if it told him he had the right to be.

But now he could be angry, he felt all that rage slip away from him. Instead he came to the very cruel realisation of what his life could have been like if only his mother had cared enough to be his mum. He bit down on his lip and nodded, staring down at the display case as thoughts of what could have been wracked over him.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. Not wanting to sully a life savings worth of handkerchiefs, he stood upright and tried to look at the ceiling whilst recollecting himself. A few tears ran down his cheeks, but he refused to let himself cry – that honesty was reserved for Hibiki only.

With a deep, shaky breath he looked down again, and nodded to say he was alright. A blue handkerchief hovered in front of his cheek, and then very gently patted away his tears. It was a gesture too close for comfort, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for the implication, but her smile was kind and understanding enough for him to trust she didn't mean to be untoward.

"Blue goes very well with your eyes." She said as she held the handkerchief against the other cheek too. Despite his discomfort and the residual sadness he still felt, he couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"They've been blue a bit too often." He responded as if it was a joke, but knowing well enough that it was just a brutal fact. She smiled as if to appreciate the attempt at humour, but her eyes betrayed sympathy more than anything. Carefully she folded up the now damp handkerchief, and handed it over to him with both hands and a bow. A deep, respectful bow.

"Thank you." He said as he took the handkerchief from her and smiled. It felt like more than an extent of goodwill, or even acceptance: the fact that she had this conversation already told him she had to some degree come to terms with his presence. Maybe this was her telling him that she cared. Not in any way that would ever replace his own mother, but enough that he could learn to trust her.

"Ah, Kaito did very well!" Mrs. Yukimura exclaimed happily as he stepped out of the fitting booth, a little while after he had calmed down. The suit had been perfectly shaped to him, and although he had never believed it would make much of a difference, seeing the result surprised him.

"My little sister always told me to get my clothes fitted, and I didn't believe her, but she was right." He explained with a smile as he checked himself in the mirror. The clothes didn't miraculously change his body, but they did manage to accentuate all the good parts. He appeared slimmer, whilst his shoulders and chest seemed broader than usual. The colours and style worked well, and without a doubt he could say he looked good – perhaps better than he ever had.

"You have a little sister?" Mrs. Yukimura said with a smile, as if delighted to hear that.

"Yes, well, two sisters actually. And a little brother. But I am closest to Anya, since the others are a lot younger than me."

"Hibiki never told us." She shook her head somewhat disappointed.

"Well, I don't see them very often," he explained. "My parents divorced, so they are all my half siblings, and Anya lives with my mother."

"Is she okay?" Mrs. Yukimura asked with immediate concern.

"I'd say so. Mum never hurt her. She only hated me." He smiled wryly, but in some ways he was relieved that Anya never got the brunt of their mother's flaws.

"How old is she?"

"She's turning fifteen soon, in April." He responded with a smile, as despite everything he was still very proud of her and enjoyed talking about her. "She loves fashion, she even makes her own clothes."

"Ah, so she dresses her big brother?" Mrs. Yukimura said with a slight chuckle, prompting him to smile too.

"She tries whenever she has the chance, but usually it stays with fitting them on. Besides, I want her to be happy first, so she shouldn't spend anything on me."

"You sound like a very good brother."

He smiled at the compliment, and nodded a bit more sheepishly.

"Well, I took care of her for most of her life. Since mum didn't do so very well. That's why we're very close, and I feel like I raised her, not as a parent but... more than other siblings." He knew he was getting off track a bit too much, but it was hard to mention Anya without also explaining just how much he cared for her in every sense of the word. Mrs. Yukimura appeared to understand however, nodding as he spoke – still he couldn't help but worry that talking about his siblings to her would dig up bad memories.

"It is sad that you had to, but it sounds like she turned into a wonderful young woman."

He smiled nearly boastfully, forgetting his concerns about being insensitive as he just couldn't help but feel proud.

"She is: she's very sweet and talented, and I know she will do well."

"If you tell us when her birthday is, we will send her a gift." Mrs. Yukimura nodded, before gesturing towards the fitting room. "But first things first."

With a grin he stepped back inside to undress, his mind drawn back to the idea of surprising Hibiki. Despite how giddy and excited he was for their dinner, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Not because he was afraid Hibiki wouldn't like it, but rather because he wanted everything to be perfect. So just to ease his worries, he carefully folded up his suit and made sure every part was neatly laid out on top – in particular the cufflinks.