Ink Stained

63: kyoto, day six (1)*

京都市、6日目 

"I am going to die."

"No, you're not," Shiori rolled her eyes at Kouta's theatrics. "You're being dramatic."

Kouta lifted his forearms up on the metal rod of the clothes rack through she was perusing. He laid his forehead down on his arm and sighed deeply, as if the weight of the skies had settled on his shoulders

"I don't think you understand. I can feel my soul leaving my body." He raised his head to look at her with puppy-dog eyes and pouted. Nodding at Shin he continued, "Even Shin can tell. Shin, Shin-kun, look at me honestly and tell her if you think I'm going to die."

Shin gave him a frigid look from the corner of his eye before turning back to idly inspecting the pair of sunglasses perched on the plastic nose of the mannequin he stood beside. "He's going to die. Slowly and painfully."

Shiori narrowed her eyes at Shin. "You're only saying that because you're his best friend, and you're obligated to agree with whatever he says as such." She retorted primly.

"I never agree with what you say." Pai pointed out, for no other reason than to annoy Shiori.

"Yes, that's true," Shiori retorted huffily, shooting her a disgruntled look. "And that's because you're a mean friend."

"That is because you rarely make a good point." She instantly corrected.

She mindlessly flicked aside the skirt hanging on the side of the racks Kouta stood on. Shin was directly opposite her, standing beside Shiori, with his hands tucked into the coat pockets of his knee-length trench coat as his eyes idly wandered over the aisles of clothes around them. His hair was messy, ruffled on his head as visible testament to the fact that Kouta had literally dragged him out of bed to come along on their shopping trip. Despite that, he looked rugged, and not at all that hard on the eyes.

Pai and Shiori were searching for a yukata to wear to the festival that evening – and the next day – and shopping for gifts to take back home, as well as other clothes Shiori insisted they absolutely had to get. Today was the first day of the festival, which would kick off that evening at six o'clock with fireworks. They were in Kyoto's large shopping district, and Shiori wanted to have the perfect yukata and purse to go with it for the festival.

Even though Pai was wary of being around Shiori when she went on a shopping frenzy, she didn't mind the outing so much. She didn't have a yukata even back home – the last one she'd had was before she disappeared when she was fifteen, and Shiori and Kouta told her that everything in her old home had been sold since everyone seemed to have entirely forgotten that the Momozono's ever existed in that house.

'They' were Kouta (dragged along because Shiori forced him to, citing his hefty wallet even though that was such a blatant excuse to turn this outing into a sort-of date), Pai (begged by Shiori to come because she also needed to get a yukata, considering Pai didn't own one), and Shin (Pai wasn't entirely sure why he'd been forced to tag along).

She had asked him why he was coming along, since he didn't strike her as the type to spend his free time yukata hunting and shopping for clothes and gifts. He said that he was just a glorified security guard with them because Kouta forced him to out of fear of boredom while the girls shopped. So far, he'd only bought one thing at the accessories store they'd stopped at one hour ago. She hadn't seen what it was, and her stomach turned uncomfortably whenever she tried to guess at who he might have bought something at a very obviously lady's accessories store for.

Who was he buying it for? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

That was a lie. She wanted to know.