How did a yokai even smell? A question few would bother to ask or figure out, fewer still spending the time to think about it. Akari was of demonic heritage, a lineage relating to the Baku, the dream eaters from a folklore most had forgotten since long. To humans, she'd smell like every other person would, a particular feminine scent with, perhaps, a slightly biting undertone that would only hit seconds later - much like many mistook her for an angel. Once. That she smelled differently to those with a finer nose would be an understatement of the century. The finer nose would pick up the fleeting scent of a flirty passion easily attributed to those 'dream demonettes' today's youngsters were familiar with, which would eventually turn into an almost sulfuric tint of danger that betrayed her demonic heritage. On another layer there would be the warmer scent of mouldy earth and nature that told them about a life before Kumogakure, the hints of a no-nonsense personality which would leave little to the imagination. Mixed within that earthen scent, a vague tinge of impending fear, of living nightmares seething under the surface, would hardly be caught by the nose itself but certainly be registered by the sub-conscious. The dream eaters, though supposedly alleviating their summoners from horrible dreams, equally shared them and had their very essence express them.
The boy would come to discover all of this as he stepped closer in a rather inconspicuous way, seemingly taking a look at the clothes Akari herself was overlooking. Taking a whiff of her scent like a dog trying to recognise someone else. And he would have succeeded at remaining unnoticed were it not for two factors: Akari was a shinobi herself, retaining a sense of alertness the untrained Human would not bother to uphold. And she had survived in the wilderness for years, beast and man observed in their more feral state. Though she couldn't state exactly what the boy was trying to do, she certainly picked up on the abnormal behaviour and so the dream-eater's black eyes would look into the glass to catch his distorted reflection of green and brown toned clothes.
Playing on the perception that he was looking at a window filled with mannequins wearing girl clothing, a wry smile would play on her lips before she'd casually start to talk to him. "Trying to figure out how your girlfriend would look in those clothes?", she'd ask him with a raspy voice, eyes fixated on him through the weak reflection in the shop's window until he realised she was talking to him. Then, once she had caught his attention, she'd turn around with her head slightly down to hide her black eyes from first sights. Fully turned around, she'd lift her head and look straight at him with black eyes.