KamiJirou-Dreaming

Details and Margins

Denki stood on the sidewalk of a most famous street, the Champs-Élysées. To be quite frank, he felt quite put off by the bright lights and the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. But he needed to get something done for the dance on Sunday, and he wasn't backing down.

His eyes seemed glued to the storefront directly in front of him. He was dressed in a semi casual fashion as to not embarrass himself with pajama bottoms and a flannel shirt. It turned out that when he checked his bag for casual wear, all his t-shirts and sweaters were taken by a certain beloved thief in the opposite end of the dorms. That meant his choice of wardrobe was somewhat limited, but it didn't stop his insatiable lust for high-quality dress.

Smart-looking walking shoes with it's fine laces neatly tied at the neck covered the majority of his ankle socks. To some, it might even seem that he wasn't wearing socks. Beige pants accented with a brown belt tucked in his woolen sweater and white dress shirt. The white of the button up was crisply folded into his chest, one button left to expose his collarbone, his gold watch hidden under the dark blue sleeves of his jacket. Just to top it off, Denki had gone for a small pair of earrings , which glinted in the streetlight.

And yet, despite his excellent taste in style, Denki stood in the light of the window. A trio of suits, each in a different style. The sport jacket looked sleek and quite dashing, while the double-breasted seemed to imbue a sense of seriousness and eloquent confidence. And further still, the center suit was a flamboyant red, it's golden accents glittering in the light. It caught the eye, from the expensive fabric to the red tie folded crisply on the white dress shirt. The suit screamed arrogance and a sense of show. It most definitely caught the eye, but none more so than the letters that were written on the window.

"The Kingsman"

A brand in London which Denki had been advised to research by Mr. Ironwood, Denki did appreciate the particular taste in style that came with espionage. To make the deal ever more sweeter, Denki was given a discount for his first suit. As a man who was frugal with his monetary gains, Denki really had no use of suits and usually spent that same money on the clothes which he was wearing now.

The last suit he had was the one he had worn to his parents funeral and then to the ceremony celebrating the disaster they had died in. Not really thoughts and memories he brought up willingly.

Denki sighed. This was an European-only brand and the shipping cost should he order in Japan was horrendous. And besides, he needed a suit. Finally stepping from his spot, he moved to the door.

The interior was just about as lavish as the exterior suggested, the soft lamplight glowing warmly against the polished wood and colorful silks. The mahogany tables and counters were polished to the nth degree, almost so that Denki could see his reflection in the wood. The floor was expertly cleaned, and in a show of respect, Denki dusted off his shoes on the carpet before stepping in.

Around him were attires of unimaginable cost, each differing from the simple confidence of the black suit to the flamboyant and almost arrogant aura of the red sports blazer. Accessories lined the shelf to his far right, golden watches and silver belt buckles shined and glittering in the low light. There were even some glasses sitting in the spotlight of a shelf, each displayed on its own stand In front of him was the counter, and to its right was an open hallway. His left was dedicated to the different dress shirts, fashionable sweaters, slacks, and pants.

Behind the counter was an old man, dressed smartly as his eyes seemed to pierce through Denki's soul, almost analyzing his personality in preparation for the suit he was to bestow on his newest customer. Denki's long legs crossed the shop within a matter of seconds, eyes still wandering the depths of the shop, a smile of amazement displayed on full.