Chapter 39: Ice Cream, Suits, and Silent Thank Yous

Kane’s mind raced through possibilities.

The tailoring shop served the city’s elite—including both Cyrus and Elias Thorne. The timing seemed far from coincidental.

"Elias was just outside," Kane murmured. "Right before this happened."

Cyrus’s jaw tightened. "Convenient."

"This isn’t the first strange occurrence in the neighborhood this week. The antique shop down the street had a break-in; nothing was stolen. Just ransacked." Takeo said, wiping at the dried blood on his father’s arm.

Kane shook his head, finding the timing suspicious but deciding to step back.

Rina and Ginsei were already investigating the pattern of break-ins—this was officially Bureau business now.

Mr. Hoshino approached them, his arm now fully healed thanks to Cyrus’s intervention. Despite the chaos surrounding them, he carried two garment bags with careful precision.

"I must apologize for the delay and the... unfortunate circumstances," he said with a deep bow.

"But I managed to complete your suits before this unpleasantness occurred."

He handed the suits to them with both hands, a gesture of respect.

"The light blue for Mr. Ashwood and the black for Mr. Drakhal, as requested."

Kane’s eyes widened as he accepted the garment. "You finished them already? We were only gone for—"

Takeo smiled proudly.

"My father has always been this way. When I was a child, I would watch him transform fabric into art in minutes while other tailors took days."

Mr. Hoshino gestured toward a changing area in the back of the shop that remained undisturbed by the chaos.

"Please, gentlemen. The fitting rooms are ready."

Kane entered into one booth while Cyrus took the adjacent one.

He slipped the light blue suit jacket over his shoulders and felt the difference immediately.

Unlike the expensive but off-the-rack suits Cyrus had purchased for him at the Quadron Mall, this one moved with him like a second skin. He buttoned it and turned to examine himself in the mirror.

"Wow," he whispered.

The tailoring was immaculate.

The jacket tapered perfectly at his waist, the shoulders sat exactly right, and the pants broke just so over his shoes.

Most impressively, Mr. Hoshino had somehow incorporated a subtle pleat in the back that accommodated his tail without creating an obvious bulge.

Kane turned sideways, admiring how the color brought out the gold in his eyes. The fabric felt substantial yet breathed like nothing he’d ever worn before.

He stepped out of the fitting room at the same moment Cyrus emerged from his.

Their eyes met, and Kane saw a flicker of genuine appreciation in Cyrus’s gaze.

"This is..." Kane ran his hands down the lapels. "I’ve never had anything that fits like this."

"Hoshino is an artist," Cyrus acknowledged, adjusting his own perfect cuffs. "His work makes even department store mannequins look distinguished."

Kane grinned, recognizing the backhanded compliment for what it was.

Cyrus approached the counter where Mr. Hoshino stood arranging receipts. He withdrew a sleek black card from his wallet.

"The suits are exceptional as always," Cyrus said, sliding the card across the polished wood. "I’ll add five thousand for the damages."

Mr. Hoshino’s eyes widened slightly. He pushed the card back with a gentle but firm hand.

"No, Mr. Drakhal. You saved my life. The debt is mine to repay, not yours to cover."

Cyrus’s expression hardened almost imperceptibly. "The damage occurred in my presence. I insist."

Kane watched the exchange with fascination. The dragon and the tailor locked in a battle of honor neither seemed willing to lose.

Mr. Hoshino bowed deeply. "Your protection was worth more than any sum. Please."

"Then consider it an advance payment for future work," Cyrus countered smoothly, pushing the card forward again.

"My assistant will need a complete wardrobe. At least five more suits of your choosing."

The tailor hesitated, then nodded once, accepting the compromise with grace.

"Very well. I will create pieces worthy of both your standards."

Kane’s mouth fell open slightly. Five more suits?

He caught Cyrus’s eye, but the dragon merely straightened his perfect cuffs, with his usual unreadable expression.

Takeo approached as they prepared to leave, his hands clasped together in a gesture of deep gratitude.

"Thank you both for what you did for my father," he said, bowing slightly. "If not for your intervention..." He trailed off, unwilling to voice the possible outcome.

Kane shook his head. "We just happened to be in the right place."

"Nevertheless," Takeo insisted, "you have our eternal gratitude." He glanced around at the disrupted shop, the scattered fabrics, and the overturned furniture.

"Please don’t worry about this mess. I’ll have everything back in order."

Cyrus nodded once, the barest acknowledgment.

"And," Takeo added with a warm smile, "next time you visit Sweet Frost, all the ice cream you want is on the house. I insist."

The mention of free ice cream piqued Kane’s interest. "That’s an offer I won’t forget."

As they stepped outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the street.

"We should probably head to meet Mochi now," he said, checking his phone.

"Yes, and I still have three meetings scheduled for this afternoon." Cyrus checked his watch, already calculating the time needed to meet Mochi and return to Veyr Corp.

Kane smoothed his hands over the light blue fabric of his new suit once more, unable to resist the satisfaction of its perfect fit.

"Hey," he said, catching Cyrus’s attention as they walked toward the car. "Thanks for this. The suit is incredible."

Cyrus nodded slightly, his eyes fixed ahead.

"And that was pretty decent of you back there," Kane continued.

"With the Hoshinos. You didn’t have to help heal him or offer to pay for damages."

"It was nothing."

"It wasn’t nothing to them," Kane persisted.

"I saw their faces. That family has probably served clients like you for generations, but I bet not many would have stepped in like that when things went sideways."

A hint of discomfort at the praise flickered across Cyrus’s face.

"The Hoshinos are honorable craftsmen," he said finally. "Their work deserves respect. As do they."

Kane smiled, recognizing the admission for what it was.

Beneath the cold exterior, Cyrus Drakhal actually cared about people. Some people, anyway.