Click.
Click.
Gotō Hitori froze in place.
It felt as if the whole world began to spin—like it had flung him alone into an empty universe, leaving him unable to find the way back.
The sense of taste he'd once been so proud of shattered in an instant, like glass exploding across the floor.
Silently, he put the shirt back on the rack, as though nothing had happened.
Wakaba Mutsumi stared at him, then at the shirt he'd returned.
After lowering her gaze to think for a moment, she took that same shirt out again, grabbed a pair of shorts at random, and headed straight for the fitting room.
"Gotō-senpai, what do you think of these?"
Toyokawa Sakiko walked over just then, holding several outfits she'd matched according to her own taste. When she realized Mutsumi was nowhere to be seen, she asked Gotō Hitori,
"Huh—where did Mutsumi go?"
"...Looks like she went to change."
"Mutsumi?"
Sakiko tilted her head in surprise, her smooth blue-and-white hair swaying into a light arc.
"That's rare… It's my first time seeing Mutsumi go change on her own. Before, she only did it when I asked…"
"Just as I thought—Mutsumi really cares about you too, Gotō-senpai."
This kid kept dropping life-shortening lines out of nowhere.
Gotō Hitori shuddered, a few messy strands springing up as if shocked. He really wasn't good at interacting with girls.
Sakiko alone already forced him to be extremely careful—now there was a higher-level opponent too?
M-My heart can't take this…
"I wasn't lying, Gotō-senpai."
Thinking he didn't believe her, Sakiko explained earnestly.
"Do you remember what I told you yesterday? The person who took me to see your performance back then was actually Mutsumi. She knew you even earlier than I did."
"I think… just like your performance gave me strength, Mutsumi must have benefited a lot from you too. So she wants to show you closeness in her own way."
Only after she finished did Sakiko realize—belatedly—that Gotō Hitori seemed sensitive about anything to do with bands. She hurriedly apologized.
"Ah—sorry, Gotō-senpai. I didn't mean to bring that up. I just wanted to tell you that Mutsumi and I both want to get along with you. Nothing else!"
"...It's fine. Please don't worry about it."
Gotō Hitori looked away.
He didn't know how to explain that he wasn't that sensitive about bands—he wouldn't jump just because someone mentioned them.
The reason he'd looked like he'd stepped on a landmine yesterday was mostly because he'd worked all day, then been forcibly dragged to a dinner gathering, his stamina basically at zero—only to suddenly see something that triggered his PTSD.
He sighed inwardly.
If only he were eloquent—some super extrovert with maxed-out social stats—then he could properly talk things through with Sakiko.
But reality couldn't be changed. He was just a gloomy, damp Shimokitazawa mallet-headed snake, bad with words—especially bad with girls.
Even if a misunderstanding happened, he had no instinct to explain it. With no "talk-no-jutsu," he'd only make it worse the more he tried.
The only move he could come up with, after wracking his brain, was to reach out to Sakiko—gesturing that he'd carry the clothes for her—using small actions to show he meant no harm.
Sakiko blinked, seeming to understand. Happily, she placed the clothes onto his arm.
"Thank you very much, Gotō-senpai."
"...The one who should be thanking you is me. Sorry for making you go out of your way to shop with me."
Gotō Hitori shook his head.
"If it were just me, I'd probably still be outside hesitating over whether I should go in. You two helped me a lot."
"So you couldn't go in on your own…"
Sakiko murmured softly, gazing at his profile—the kind that pleased her eyes every time she saw it.
She'd assumed a guy as good-looking as Gotō Hitori, who could also play guitar so well, must have dated plenty.
But now it seemed… maybe not.
If she were Gotō Hitori's girlfriend, she'd definitely ask him out shopping all the time.
A clothing store—such a classic venue—was somewhere she'd absolutely bring him.
Wearing something the guy you like enjoys seeing you in was a tiny trick that made it especially easy to deepen feelings.
Sakiko believed that if other girls ever talked about Gotō Hitori, even if they weren't dating, they'd still use the chance of a clothing store to probe his preferences.
A battlefield all strategists had to fight for—exactly.
And if Gotō Hitori was saying he couldn't even go in, then that meant he didn't have much experience interacting with women.
Hmm…
So senpai might not have dated before…
"Did you just say something? I didn't catch it."
"Please don't mind it. Just a small thought."
Sakiko quickly gathered herself and put on a perfect smile.
"By the way—how old is your little sister? I've been picking everything based on my own standards. If her age doesn't match, we'll have to start over."
Gotō Hitori thought for a moment. "...She's fifteen."
"Fifteen? Then she's the same age as me. I didn't expect your little sister and I would be the same age."
Sakiko nodded, then asked,
"And… her build?"
"Is she about the same as me?"
As she looked into Gotō Hitori's eyes, her hands moved naturally upward from the hem of her skirt, passing the graceful curve of her chest before lightly resting beneath her collarbones. Her eyes looked like a clear lake.
Pure. Clean.
And yet carrying a faint, irresistible allure.
"...I think so." Gotō Hitori looked away.
His junior's "girl-ness" was overwhelming right now—her beauty on full display.
He wasn't a match. He needed to avoid the edge of her blade.
"Really? If even her build is similar, that's wonderful—then these clothes should all suit her. Look, Gotō-senpai, I picked looser styles. You won't have to worry about them not fitting your sister."
Sakiko glanced at the clothes in his arms and muttered softly, "Next we should pick underwear… Maybe we can choose underwear according to my—"
She didn't finish.
Sakiko let out a small "Ah."
She'd just realized she was talking about intimate clothing in front of a boy.
Objectively, it wasn't a big deal. They were helping buy daily necessities for Gotō Hitori's little sister, and underwear definitely counted as daily necessities.
It was just shopping for a kid. Nothing shameful about it. It wasn't like they were violating anyone's bodily privacy.
But even so—
Saying something like "Buy underwear according to my size" in front of the opposite sex?
That was absolutely mortifying, even if she hadn't said it out loud.
Sakiko vaguely noticed that when she was with Gotō Hitori, she seemed to be the same as when she was with Wakaba Mutsumi—she said whatever came to mind, with no guard up at all.
And it wasn't just her imagination.
For Sakiko, this past year had been filled with far too many things, each one pushing her mental state to its limits, changing her mindset drastically.
On top of that, the exhaustion that had accumulated for so long made her subconsciously want two things at once: an older person she could depend on without fear, and some way to vent the pressure trapped in her heart.
And Gotō Hitori—someone with special meaning to her—was the perfect target, one she hadn't even noticed she'd chosen.
Walking him to the station in pouring rain.
Shopping together like this now.
All of it was the shape of her unconscious desire.
Under the quiet influence of that desire, Sakiko naturally came to treat Gotō Hitori as someone close, someone she could trust—though she herself hadn't fully realized it.
Right now, all she felt was intense embarrassment. She wanted a time machine on the spot so she could go back a few seconds and clamp her own mouth shut, protecting her flawless "perfect junior" image in Gotō Hitori's mind.
Unfortunately, reality didn't come with a blue robotic cat.
So Sakiko had no choice but to pretend the remark never happened. She rose onto the tip of one foot and traced awkward little circles on the clothing store's glossy floor, one after another.
Gotō Hitori, standing beside her, silently cooperated—acting as if he hadn't heard a thing.
Just as the atmosphere between them grew more and more awkward—
Swish.
The fitting room curtain was pulled aside.
Wakaba Mutsumi stepped out, holding the dress she'd changed out of in her arms. Wearing the red "death rock," multi-zipper short-sleeve Gotō Hitori had picked, she walked calmly up to Sakiko and Gotō Hitori.
"...?"
M-Mutsumi…?
Sakiko was stunned speechless.
This look was so shocking it rewrote her worldview.
It was like a psychologist suddenly sprinting up to her, frantically declaring that Wakaba Mutsumi actually had an extremely rare case of multiple personalities and needed immediate hospitalization—utterly absurd.
In her entire life, she'd never imagined—
That her sweet, well-behaved other half would one day walk out wearing something with such intense visual impact…
"I think it looks great. It suits you perfectly!"
Unlike Sakiko's dazed confusion, Gotō Hitori looked delighted.
It was his first time ever seeing someone willing to wear an outfit he'd chosen.
In the past, whether it was bandmates or family, everyone had criticized his taste. One denial after another had made him fall into deep doubt about it.
Was my sense of style really only middle-school level?
Guh…
I refuse to accept that…!
And now, Wakaba Mutsumi had affirmed his taste in the most direct way possible. The heart he'd already given up on completely suddenly rekindled with a beam of light.
"Thank you," Wakaba Mutsumi said softly. "I'll buy it."
"Really?" Gotō Hitori was even more surprised.
"Really. I want to wear it." Mutsumi nodded.
Ehehehe…
I knew it—my taste is valid. Even a girl this pretty is wearing it and says she wants to take it home.
Maybe I actually have talent to become a fashion designer…
Gotō Hitori scratched his cheek, embarrassed, as he started fantasizing about becoming some clothing mogul in the future.
Sakiko looked left at Gotō Hitori, then right at Wakaba Mutsumi.
Was it just her imagination…?
It felt like Gotō Hitori and Wakaba Mutsumi—together—were far more in sync than he and Sakiko were…?
No!
I have to do something!
"Gotō-senpai! Give me the clothes—I'll change too and show you!"
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
A few cute girls with carefully styled looks were strolling through the mall and just happened to pass by this clothing store.
One girl, who seemed the most popular among them, smiled and raised a hand as if she was sharing something funny. Her friends laughed happily.
Then, suddenly, she stopped.
She looked toward the clothing store. Her gaze fixed on a familiar figure, and for a moment she lost herself.
"Gotō…?"
-------
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