Sato Chinatsu observed Genji’s relaxed demeanor, a flicker of deeply hidden joy stirring within her, mingled with a familiar sense of resignation.
‘Why did he have to appear so humble?’ she wondered. ‘It was precisely in such situations—no, wait, it was perfectly normal for someone to feel a certain humility in her presence.’
“Why do you seem so dispirited?” she inquired, her tone softening unconsciously as she prompted him.
A faint blush crept across Genji’s face, and her words left him feeling somewhat lightheaded.
‘Doesn’t Professor Sato even glance at her own face when she says things like that?’
He shook his head. “It’s nothing, I simply didn’t get enough sleep.”
As he finished speaking, he rubbed his nose, only then noticing that his voice sounded slightly lower than usual.
At the mention of insufficient sleep, Sato Chinatsu’s expression grew slightly awkward; she began eating, seemingly absorbed in her meal. “Sit down and eat with me,” she offered.
She lowered her head, scooping a spoonful of pumpkin soup. The orange-yellow broth shimmered gently in the spoon, releasing tendrils of steam that mingled with the fresh, savory scent of salmon.
Noticing he was still standing, Sato Chinatsu tapped her fingers on the table. “Why are you just standing there, gaping?”
“Oh, right.”
Genji pulled out a chair and settled into it, murmuring, “Then, I’ll begin.”
Picking up some spinach and slowly chewing it, Genji felt his mind was still somewhat sluggish, likely due to his poor sleep the previous night. However, it wasn’t appropriate to elaborate at the dinner table, so he simply focused on his meal.
Weekend sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, spilling across the floor. The apartment was so quiet that the only sounds were the soft clinking of chopsticks against bowls.
As she consumed the warm soup and other dishes, Professor Sato’s complexion quickly regained its healthy flush. Feeling content, she set down her chopsticks, propped her elbows on the table, and fixed her gaze on Genji.
Genji’s skin was clear, his features delicate and handsome, yet it wasn’t the kind of face that readily commanded attention from the opposite s*x.
It was the kind that required a closer, more discerning look to truly appreciate… A peculiar sensation inexplicably stirred within her heart.
She shook her head, unable to pinpoint the source of the feeling.
Sato Chinatsu leaned back against her chair, intertwining her fingers, and remained silent for a moment.
Genji had been performing exceptionally well lately; the apartment was consistently immaculate, and the meals he meticulously prepared for her had always been to her utmost satisfaction.
She recalled the notebook she had seen yesterday, with its descriptions of her own ‘pitiful’ appearance.
Her gaze fell upon Genji’s faded jacket, and Sato Chinatsu suddenly spoke. “Come out with me this afternoon.”
“Huh?” Genji looked up, his chopsticks frozen mid-air. “Where are we going?”
“To buy clothes,” Sato Chinatsu stated flatly, as if discussing a trivial matter. “Your current attire is far too worn.”
She gestured toward his clothes, noting the slightly frayed cuffs and the fabric that had faded to a pale shade from countless washes.
Genji paused, glancing down at himself, then immediately refused. “There’s no need, I don’t require any.”
Of the several hundred thousand yen allocated for groceries, a considerable sum still remained, and Professor Sato had explicitly stated he could keep it as his remuneration.
He truly didn’t wish for her to spend any more money on him; he already felt he could never fully repay the professor’s immense kindness.
“Don’t need it?”
Sato Chinatsu raised an eyebrow, rose, and approached him, looking him up and down. “Are you intentionally dressing like this, then? To elicit my pity?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Genji insisted, shaking his head vehemently.
In his more than a decade of life in this world, these recent days had, in fact, been the most comfortable he had ever experienced.
Sato Chinatsu, however, did not accept his answer. This was a matter she had already decided, and it would proceed exactly as planned.
Her tone brooked no argument. “It’s settled then. Two o’clock this afternoon, wait for me by the door.”
“Professor, you truly don’t need to—”
Genji attempted to protest further, but she had already turned and retreated into her room, clearly not listening to a word he said.
The door closed with a crisp, decisive click.
Genji remained seated, idly twirling the chopsticks in his hand, and let out a sigh.
When Professor Sato got a bee in her bonnet, he truly had no way of stopping her.
****
At two in the afternoon, Genji stood downstairs from the apartment building, wrapped in a thin jacket, his nose a faint red.
He had felt a tickle in his throat since morning, and now, with the wind blowing, his head felt even dizzier.
He lowered his head and idly kicked at his shoetips, waiting for Sato Chinatsu to appear.
The weather was splendid that day, with a clear, boundless sky.
Before long, a black Toyota Corolla glided to a stop directly in front of him.
The headlights flashed, and the car window slid down, revealing Professor Sato’s face.
Dressed in a beige trench coat, she motioned for Genji to get into the car.
Genji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Professor, you can drive?”
“Nonsense,” Sato Chinatsu retorted, glancing at him. “Get in.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, a clear sign of impatience.
Genji hastily scrambled into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut, and only then did a realization dawn on him.
‘No wonder she always arrived at the classroom before me,’ he thought. ‘Wait, was she actually awake back then?’
Genji decided it was best not to dwell on that thought.
As the car exited the neighborhood, Sato Chinatsu kept her gaze fixed on the road, her tone casual. “We’re going to Ginza to look around; you need to get some new clothes.”
Genji shrank into the seat, his fingers tightly gripping the seatbelt. “Isn’t Ginza incredibly expensive? I can just pick up something simple; there’s no need to go to such a high-end place.”
“Something simple?”
Sato Chinatsu snorted. “It’s an eyesore to me.”
She pressed the accelerator, and the car’s speed climbed steadily, causing Genji to grip the seatbelt even tighter.
Unsure of Professor Sato’s driving prowess, he felt a distinct sense of trepidation.
A cool breeze streamed in through the car window, ruffling Genji’s bangs.
His throat tickled, prompting two soft coughs.
With her keen hearing, Sato Chinatsu turned her head to glance at him. Noticing his face had grown even redder, she frowned. “Are you catching a cold?”
“No, it’s just the wind,” Genji replied, shaking his head and forcing himself to sit upright.
‘Only fools catch colds,’ he thought. ‘I’ve never once been sick.’
Sato Chinatsu pursed her lips, then pressed a button, and the car window slowly ascended, sealing itself shut.
“It’s too noisy,” she explained, more to herself than to him.
Genji glanced at her, then nodded in understanding. It was, admittedly, quite noisy.
The streets around Ginza were perpetually bustling, lined with towering buildings and thronged by people constantly coming and going.
Sato Chinatsu parked the car in the lot beside Ginza Mitsukoshi, then stepped out and waved to Genji, who stood waiting just beyond the parking lines.
“Let’s go.”
Genji followed behind her, his hands tucked into his pockets.
He sniffed, sensing the lingering chill of spring carried on the wind.
As they stepped into the Mitsukoshi department store, the vibrant bustle intensified. Passersby occasionally cast glances of admiration or curiosity at the unusual pair.
Sato Chinatsu, in her trench coat, strode with long, purposeful steps, her leather shoes clicking crisply on the polished floor. Her commanding aura was such that few dared to stare for long.
Beside her, Genji, however, looked utterly out of place, appearing hesitant and somewhat awkward.
Genji looked left and right with a curious gaze, having never been to such a place before.
The mall lights shone dazzlingly bright, and the air carried a faint, sweet scent of perfume. Clothes on the counters were meticulously folded, and even the tags seemed artfully arranged.
He secretly glanced at Sato Chinatsu beside him; her expression was impassive, clearly accustomed to such environments.
Following closely behind Sato Chinatsu, they went directly to the clothing section on the second floor.
“A clothing store,” Genji murmured, looking around the interior with a hint of bewilderment.
A sales associate in black casual wear approached them.
He was a handsome man in his twenties, his hair impeccably styled.
His smile, revealing eight teeth, was a standard, practiced professional grin.
“Hello—”
His voice was clear and bright. His eyes lingered on Sato Chinatsu for a moment, then quickly swept over Genji, as if making a swift assessment.
‘The woman looks wealthy, and the man is as green as a student. They can’t possibly be a couple. Perhaps an older sister buying clothes?’ he mused inwardly. ‘But if they were siblings, their temperaments shouldn’t be so vastly different,’ the handsome sales associate conjectured.
Sato Chinatsu nodded, dispensing with pleasantries, and stated directly, “Pick out some clothes for him.”
She gestured toward Genji with her chin, her tone flat, as if assigning a task.
The handsome sales associate clearly froze for a moment.
Such a tone unmistakably indicated wealth, and the sales associate’s smile deepened as he extended a hand toward Genji.
“Certainly, please come this way, sir. I’ll select some casual outfits for you; I guarantee they’ll suit you perfectly.”
He led the two further inside, pointing to a rack of clothes. “These are all our new spring arrivals; they look very sharp on young people.”
He pulled out a khaki hoodie, then paired it with light gray casual trousers, offering them to Genji. “How about this set? Simple yet elegant, it particularly complements a student’s demeanor.”
He smiled expectantly, then turned and picked up a navy blue jacket. “This is also an option; it looks very stylish with jeans.”
Sato Chinatsu stood nearby, arms crossed, silently observing.
Genji, flushed with embarrassment, felt compelled to accept the clothes, urged by the sales associate’s beaming smile.
It was as if he were reliving the moment with the enthusiastic vice-president of the Literary Research Society, who had insisted on getting his contact information.