Early Afternoon, Shibuya Mall

Even though it wasn't the weekend, the mall was buzzing like a wasp's nest shaken during summer break.

Girls in matching sailor uniforms, guys trailing behind with soda cans, couples giggling hand-in-hand — the energy was full of sugary youth. Apparently, this mall was the hub for students from half the city. Now that I was in the middle of it, I had no trouble believing it.

Well, I was one of the rare males caught in the gravitational field of women's fashion.Or, more specifically — a certain woman's fashion.

"Come on, Sousuke-kun! This way!"

Tomoko-san tugged my arm gently, her fingers laced with casual familiarity, almost like a real wife pulling her husband to their next domestic adventure.

She didn't wait for an answer, gliding into the women's fashion section with her black heels clicking like a seductive metronome.

The moment we passed the first boutique, she stopped. Eyes glimmering like she'd stepped into a secret garden of silk, frills, and temptation.

"Just browsing a little," she said, already flicking through hangers like a veteran hunter. Within seconds, she'd snatched up two dresses, one sweater, and something pink and suspiciously lacy.

"I'll go try these on, wait here, okay?"

"Y-Yeah." I gave a wry smile. "Don't keep me waiting too long, Tomoko."

With her off to the changing room, I wandered near the displays, pretending to care about knitted scarves and blouses.

That's when a smiling store clerk appeared like a side character entering from Stage Left.

"Can I help you, sir?" she chirped. "Are you picking something out for your girlfriend?"

"Oh, no. I'm just here with a… friend."

An incredibly gorgeous, dangerously affectionate friend who was currently undressing behind a thin curtain ten feet from me.

"Alright then, let me know if you need help," she said, sneaking a second glance at me with a cheeky smile before walking off.

I caught her peeking again. Yeah, third time's not an accident. The curse of being devastatingly handsome, I suppose. The system must've buffed my charisma stat without telling me.

At the same time, the curtain rustled.

And then—

"Sousuke-kun… how about this one?"

I turned toward her and… my heart did a double-tap against my ribs.

Tomoko stepped out, wearing a soft ivory sweater-dress that hugged her upper curves and spilled loosely over her thighs. She held another dress folded in one hand, cheeks slightly flushed, unsure of my reaction.

My gaze dropped—then yanked itself back up like a guilty teenager.

Dangerous. So dangerous. She wasn't wearing tights.

"That one's… amazing. You look perfect."

"R-Really?" Her smile blossomed like spring. "What about this one?"

She held up a burgundy number that promised even more leg exposure.

"They're all great. You could model for the store, honestly."

She turned to the mirror, tilting her head as she inspected herself with a critical but pleased look.

The salesgirl from before peeked around the corner, caught sight of her and her smile soured immediately.

I didn't blame her. If I were a girl and saw Tomoko in that dress, next to me, clinging to a younger guy, I'd probably develop spontaneous jealousy-induced stomach ulcers too.

After paying, we drifted store to store, Tomoko stopping at almost every window. She squealed softly when she spotted a cardigan with pearls. Tried on a few skirts. Posed in the mirror, looking over her shoulder like a model on the cover of Madame Rose.

Every outfit transformed her mood more than her appearance so much so that she began glowing.

To me, each changing room door might as well have been a stage curtain, revealing a new act of the most personal fashion show I'd ever witnessed.

After about ten rounds of dress-up, my arms were weighed down with bags.

Designer paper bags, pink boutique ribbons, lingerie bags with no brand labels but plenty of implication.

"I'll carry those, Sousuke-kun," she offered sweetly.

I puffed out my chest and flexed — subtly.

"No need. Let me show you my hidden stat: [Pack Mule Lv. MAX]."

She giggled behind her hand, and that sound…That sound could reverse global warming.

Eventually, we wandered into a homewear boutique. Pajamas, robes, fuzzy slippers.

Innocent, right?

Wrong.

Because in the far corner — the dangerous corner — something caught my eye.

A nightgown. Jet black. Whisper-thin.

It practically glowed do not wear this unless you plan to destroy someone's sanity.

"Tomoko-san," I said, holding it up with mock innocence. "Thoughts on this one?"

She turned and froze.

Her eyes locked onto the nightgown. Her lips parted.

"S-Sousuke-kun… th-that's…" Her face went red to the ears.

Let's just say: Lace. Transparent zones. Strategically unstrategic coverage.

It clung at the top, flared around the waist, and from the sides? The kind of slits that invited the night to last forever.

The kind of outfit that made not touching the real challenge.

"Ahaha, just teasing," I said quickly, hanging it back.

She exhaled like she'd just escaped a landslide but the blush stayed.

After browsing a while longer, she tugged at my sleeve and asked, "Why don't you go check out some electronics or men's fashion? I'll be here a little longer."

The way she avoided my eyes…

Hmm…. Sus. Very sus.

"Oh. Got it."

She wanted some privacy.

"Call me if you need anything.", I said quickly and walked away.

She nodded, smiling softly.

—Meanwhile—

"Is it too bold…? Would he really like it…?"

Tomoko stood at the rack where he'd found the black nightgown. Her fingers brushed over the lace. The price tag was nothing special. The neckline, however was deadly.

Tomoko-san hesitated for a long, silent moment. Then picked it up, gently, like handling a secret she wanted to share.

I, meanwhile, found myself in a home goods store, searching for a gift.

Clothes? She had too many already. Luxury items? Out of my student league.

Jewelry? Too soon. But… pillows?

Two soft, plush ones caught my eye. I remembered her always fidgeting with the old ones, trying to get comfortable during those… massages.

Yeah. For massage. That's what the pillows were for. Totally innocent. Completely helpful.

Also… adaptable to multiple "home" activities. Hehehe!

We met up again about thirty minutes later, at our usual rendezvous point.

"Tomoko," I said, pulling out the bag, "this is for you."

She blinked, surprised. "You bought something for me again?"

"It's not much," I scratched my cheek, "but I noticed your sofa pillows are kind of flat. I thought… maybe these would help."

She accepted the gift slowly, pressing her hand into the soft surface.

Her smile… was a little sad. But also so full of warmth, it made my chest ache.

"You're too thoughtful, Sousuke-kun. Thank you."

We found a quiet café tucked into the corner of the mall, the kind with window seating and romantic lighting that could make instant ramen feel like a date course.

We both ordered coffee. When the milk came, Tomoko insisted on pouring it herself.

A white spiral bloomed in the dark coffee like a blooming lily. She stirred gently, her eyes fixed outside at the bustling street.

"Those girls are so pretty…" she said suddenly. "Young, vibrant… makes me feel like such an old lady."

I frowned and said, "Don't say that. You're gorgeous, Tomoko."

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"If I were a man your age, I'd want a girl like that. Someone fresh and full of energy."

I reached across the table and took her hand.

"I don't want fresh. I want flavor. Maturity. Depth. Someone who knows what warmth means."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"You're the only one who ever says that," she whispered and she smiled for real this time.

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