A/N: Today, we get some shopping, with help from some rather strange people. They have no character really-but the guy that helped Naoto is up to interpretation.

Kanji got out of the house as early as he could, anything to ditch the midday mobs. It was raining lightly, the sky still gray and foggy, so Kanji wore the only jacket he had—a worn black leather one he got back when he was trying to be tough. Thankfully, it wasn't too cold.

Now that begs the question, where should Kanji go? The bookstore, he'd already tried, and the Uniqlo was a definite no. Junes did have a massive amount of stores, so surely he'd see something.

Having spent time with Naoto those past few days, he vaguely knew what he wanted to get her, though it wasn't at the top of his mind. Having spoken with his mother yesterday, he had a clear path to take. His late father had given her something he only knew about, and she found humiliating. For his mother, it was tacky snow globes, for Naoto, it was many things: Shounen/Shoujo Ai, stuff to help her climb trees—a guidebook, maybe—and that's all he could think of instantly.

He arrived at Junes at exactly seven in the morning. He browsed around, wary of the tents in his way. Soon, Kanji reached the source of his first possibility: A novelty store. There had to be something Yaoi related in here, just judging by the figurine of a feminine guy—the pink haired one in Naoto's room—in the window display.

"Good mornin'," A short man in a thick brown overcoat and blue and grey beanie, sprigs of red hair sticking out from the sides. He held out his gloved palm to Kanji, who politely shook it.

"Sir, I praise you for coming out today," the man said, sitting back down near the register by the front door. "What with the weather and all, I swear, by the time that rain blows over, will be spending the holidays frozen over and drowned!"

"Rain," Kanji muttered. The man seemed too endearing about the possibility of a flood.

The man nodded, holding up a newspaper. "See, it's supposed to rain all week, and it's gonna get icy, I just know it!"

Kanji went to the window and picked up the pink haired figurine, as the man kept on blabbering about the weather. Its oversized violet eyes gave the impression that the ting was staring into your soul like some demon doll from a horror film. Yet, something about them was actually kind of cute, to Kanji anyway. Almost like the brightly colored buttons he sewed onto plushies. He could somewhat see what Naoto would like about the figurine; it was eerie and bizarre but adorable in its own way. It reminded him of Naoto herself.

"You gonna buy that?" the man asked.

Kanji shook his head. "She already has it."

"Is she your girl?"

He blushed a bit, setting the figurine to the side.

"No, it's nothin' like that, mister."

"Wait, lemme guess, she's your sister; your cousin, maybe?"

"We're just friends. And it's gonna take a lot for me to ever see her again."

The man leaned across the counter, patted Kanji's shoulder lightly.

"Is this going to be an apology gift?"

"Sorta, but it's more complicated than that." Kanji felt he shouldn't tell him anymore. He'd already had a talk like this yesterday. "Can you help me out?"

"No problem, mister, uh,"

"Kanji: Kanji Tatsumi." He tried to sound formal, though it fell flat in a store of this caliber.

"Kanji, nice name there! Anyways, what is it you're lookin' for; another figurine, perchance?"

"She's got plenty, mister. I was thinkin' I'd get 'er somethin' she'd like that only I know of."

"Like," The man listened, patiently.

"She's into the followin'," Kanji tapped his palm with his index finger as he listed off items. "Yaoi and or Yuri, tree-climbin', anythin' mystery related—she's a detective who's been into that for a long time—and basically just somethin' to show 'er I care."

"Yeesh, hefty load you got there, Kanji." Then his eyes gleamed as if a light bulb just flashed in his head. "I know! Why doncha just combine everything into one! That'll save you a lot of time."

"Okay…but how do I do that?"

His eyes shifted from one area to the next. The figurine counted as something Yaoi related, and he did see a bunch of banzai trees over in the corner. But what about everything else he needed; there was a lack of mystery and heart? The hearts on the wall didn't really seem like something he'd buy, and Naoto most certainly wouldn't wear any of the jewelry in the back. And even working with the stuff he had, Kanji couldn't imagine the figurine nestled firmly in the leaves of the tree.

"I dunno."

Kanji was growing aggravated. "Well, thanks for the help, seeya." He turned and fled the store.

The rest of the day he had no luck. The electronics warehouse had a bunch of DVDS in the mystery section, but they were well over the amount he'd spend for himself. The athletics department had nothing tree climbing related. There was nothing garden related, which Kanji could live with; Naoto didn't look like the gardening type. Worst of all, he still had no clue how he could combine anything at all.

After eating lunch at the food court, he left before the crowds started to form; making the time he had to get up in the morning pointless. Still a shred of hope left, Kanji strolled through town, looking at the various other stores. It wasn't until he got home that he finally had an idea. And he owed it all to a tiny green pin cushion and a long sewing needle.

A few miles over, Naoto was having similar problems. She'd left in the afternoon, having overslept. Today's shopping would probably keep her out until midnight, so maybe it'd have been better to go earlier.

First of all, the designs got on her nerves. Nothing seemed comfortable, no matter what she tried. The first dress she threw on was a red low v-neck with white lace at the bottom. She'd picked it up because she felt it fit the seasonal look. But looking in the dressing room mirror, she felt the hem was too short, revealing too much thigh, and she still wasn't that comfortable having exposed cleavage in public. Many of the other dresses were the same; some were too long, and caused her to nearly trip over her ankles; some were to thin and gave her shivers; some were too thick, making her sweat; but most of all; it highlighted her figure a little more than desired.

Then there were the prices. When she left, Naoto didn't think she was going to need a hefty amount of money, thinking she'd just be walking through the park to cool down. All she had in her wallet was 3,897 yen, which was half the price of the dresses on display. It didn't just have to do with the store she was in, because the others weren't any different. She'd probably have to sell her clothes, legs, arms, and maybe her hair just to afford the cheapest one out.

She was just about to give up, about to hang a purple floor length cocktail dress back on the racks, when she walked into someone. The dress was sprawled out between their feet.

"I am so sorry, sir! If I'd just paid attention this probably wouldn't have…"

"No need." He said slowly.

He was a tall lanky man, most likely in his early twenties. His face was hidden by the hood of his jacket, except for a few strands of blue hair and his thin delicate lips.

"It seems something's been bugging you. Don't ask how I know, it was your voice. You must be in a hurry, you're talking so fast."

Naoto swallowed the lump in her throat. "Well, not exactly. I just learned one of my friends loves me more than I thought he did—actually, I already knew. I just wasn't very prepared."

"And you want to dress nicely for him, but you're not used to the stuff girls your age are into."

She stared down at the ground. "Yeah, this shouldn't be all about me, but," She tapped the top of one of her breasts, which were covered up with the medical tape. "I've only had them out once, covered."

"Why shop here?"

Naoto shrugged. "It's trendy, nice, and…"

"Expensive. You shouldn't waste your money on stuff you're not sure about, Naoto."

At that, she rolled her eyes towards the man. "And how exactly do you…" she began to say.

"Just get something subtle. Something that says 'I'm a woman and I'm not afraid to show it." He traced Naoto's cheekbones with his long pencil-like finger. "Makeup perhaps; lots of women wear it."

"I guess so," Naoto sighed. She'd never liked the feel of makeup. "But after Christmas I'm throwing it away."

"Suit yourself. Now, get to it. Your Grampa's waiting."

"And how do you know about my—hell, how do you know so much about me to begin with?" Her heart beat faster. He helped her, alright, but maybe it was a trap; a trap to help lure her into his prey.

"I just do." And he left the store.

The experience left Naoto quiet all night. She spoke to no one, no matter where she went. And by the time Naoto got back to the motel, all she could write in her journal was this:

Naoto's Journal: 12/21/2012:

Never trust people, even if they help you out.