"Thank you." An incline of his head, and he will hurry in the direction of the changerooms. Suddenly aware of all the eyes on him. Rokuro had known he was making a scene, but was confident in his righteous indignation.

Now that Tech is here, and Rokuro has talked through some of what he is feeling... perhaps he is a little embarrassed by the outburst, if only because his comrade hardly seemed bothered.

Five or so minutes later (listen, he doesn't just wake up like this) Rokuro re-emerges from the change rooms in said 'proper' attire, or his approximation of it. A shirt and pants tied onto his body with string and little else, touch of colour upon his eyes and lips, and the 'modern' variety of geta which are both taller and less comfortable than what he is used to, but have a strange allure in their added height.

"Is this acceptable? I have never attended a bar."