“Go try it on,” Sato Chinatsu instructed.
With his benefactor’s command issued, Genji reluctantly shuffled into the fitting room.
A moment later, he pushed the door open and emerged.
The hoodie hung loosely on his shoulders, though the pants fit well. Yet, paired with his old sneakers, the entire ensemble looked undeniably peculiar.
With the jacket draped over his arm, he tugged at the hem of his hoodie, his voice tinged with resignation. “Doesn’t this… look a little strange?”
The sales assistant’s smile froze for a second, their gaze fixed on Genji’s outfit, a twitch playing at their lips.
While the hoodie was baggy and the pants passable, his overall demeanor utterly failed to carry the look, leaving the style miles off the mark.
‘Why would this beautiful woman bring such a young boy to their shop? He simply can’t pull off this fashionable outfit; it’s a complete waste,’ he sighed inwardly, a wave of resignation washing over him.
Nevertheless, maintaining a professional smile, he bravely offered, “It looks quite good, actually. What do you think, esteemed customer? It’s certainly… unique.”
‘Unique? Him?’ Genji glanced down at himself, a nagging feeling that something was amiss.
Sato Chinatsu, however, narrowed her eyes, as if she had just stumbled upon something novel.
Taking two steps closer, she surveyed him from head to toe, then gave a slight nod.
“It’s acceptable.”
Her tone was flat, yet a flicker of satisfaction danced in her eyes, as if she were appraising a newly mended work of art.
Both men paused, surprised, the sales assistant’s gaze darting back and forth between them with evident confusion.
He let out a sigh of relief, quickly interjecting, “Yes, yes, it looks very lively on you, esteemed customer. Your sister has excellent taste!” Satisfying the customer, he reasoned, was far more important than whether the clothes truly suited him.
Seizing the opportunity, he addressed Sato Chinatsu as ‘sister,’ hoping to glean some insight into their relationship.
Sato Chinatsu offered no rebuttal, merely huffed, and turned to examine another clothing rack.
Sensing he had overstayed his welcome, the sales assistant discreetly retreated, affording them some privacy.
‘What else could he do? Did they find him too conspicuous?’ the sales assistant mused, acutely aware of their presence.
Her gaze sweeping over the rows of garments, Sato Chinatsu pointed to a dark brown, long-sleeved jacket.
“This one looks good; try it on.”
Genji’s eyes nearly went black when he saw the price tag: 180,000 yen.
¥180,000—even the “tax included” was stated with such unapologetic confidence.
‘The artisan’s craft truly shines,’ he thought, awestruck.
“Professor, it’s too expensive. I don’t need anything this fancy,” he protested, taking a step back and repeatedly declining.
“Trying it on doesn’t cost anything.”
Sato Chinatsu frowned, plucked the jacket from the hanger, and thrust it into his hands. “Go change into it.” She stood there, arms crossed, like an overseer.
Unable to defy her, Genji took the clothes into the fitting room. After much dawdling, he emerged, the jacket hanging loosely on him, its sleeves a little too long.
He tugged at the sleeve, muttering, “Isn’t it too big?”
“It’s not too big; it’s fine. You’re still growing, so wearing one size larger means you can wear it for longer,” Sato Chinatsu remarked nonchalantly.
Genji’s eyes widened as he stared at her. He was almost an adult; was he still expected to grow?
‘Was the Professor subtly implying he was short?’ Genji sought an answer in her expression, but the woman maintained her impassive face, seemingly oblivious to any offense in her words.
Sato Chinatsu then pointed to a white shirt. “Try this one too.” She continued selecting items for him.
“Professor, I…” Genji frowned, clutching the hem of the jacket, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m feeling a bit unwell. Could we perhaps stop for now?”
He lowered his head and coughed, his throat so hoarse it startled even himself.
Sato Chinatsu turned, narrowing her eyes at him, her brow furrowing deeper. “Unwell?” Her mood dampened, her voice hardened, and the familiar irritation of being refused resurfaced.
“You can’t even manage to try on a few clothes?”
She stared at Genji, a hint of bewilderment in her gaze.
She had brought him out specifically to get new clothes because he had been performing well lately, yet he kept making excuses. What exactly was going on?
Without further thought, she simply concluded that the impudent boy was being ungrateful.
“That’s not what I meant…” Genji quickly waved his hands. He had been feeling intensely dizzy for some time now, and leaning on the fitting room door frame, he appeared quite unsteady.
Just then, a questioning voice echoed from behind them.
“Oh, Genji?”
Both turned to look, finding a girl standing just outside the shop entrance.
Fujita Misaki, carrying a shopping bag, tilted her head, assessing the pair. Once she got a clearer look, her eyes filled with surprise and delight. “Oh? Professor Sato, what are you doing here?” As a student of the Literature Department, she naturally recognized Professor Sato.
Her gaze darted between the two, clearly speculating about their relationship.
When she had first spotted her junior through the display window, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She never expected Professor Sato to be here too, and it looked as though the two were arguing about something.
Fujita glanced around. A Literature Department professor arguing with a student?
In a men’s clothing store?
Taken aback by the unexpected encounter with a Literature Department student, Sato Chinatsu froze for a moment, a flicker of panic in her eyes, though she quickly masked it.
“Hello, Fujita-san.” It was a dry, stiff greeting, and she found herself at a loss for what else to say, merely staring at Fujita with an unreadable expression.
Genji, however, spoke first, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here, senior? I got lost in Shibuya and just ran into Professor Sato, who was showing me the way out.” He fabricated an excuse, desperate to smooth things over, but even as he spoke, he knew the alibi wouldn’t hold up.
Fujita Misaki raised an eyebrow.
‘That excuse is utterly terrible. It’s hilarious.’
A smile played on her lips as a sudden thought sparked in her mind. Instead of exposing the obvious lie, she seized Genji’s words. “Oh, is that so? What a coincidence, then, Professor Sato. Genji and I are quite familiar with each other. Why don’t I take him? Your important matters should take precedence, Professor.”
With a gesture towards the plastic bag in her hand, Fujita observed their reactions. “Besides, I’m heading home myself.”
Sato Chinatsu shot her a glance, her fingers loosening at her cuff, as the long-suppressed irritation resurfaced.
She pressed her lips together, stating flatly, “Very well. But make sure you both go home early. Don’t engage in anything outside that’s unbecoming of students.” She cast a cold glance at Genji, her eyes devoid of warmth.
“Oh, Professor, you’re such a spoilsport!” Fujita, utterly devoid of any girlish shyness, wore a teasing smile. “Our junior wouldn’t do anything of the sort, would he?”
Sato paused, then turned and walked out, her footsteps steady on the floor but unusually hurried.
Genji watched her receding back and sighed.
‘This is it. I’m really in for it now.’
That look from the Professor clearly indicated she was angry.
The excuse he had concocted earlier was truly terrible, and his inability to handle the situation properly made Professor Sato’s anger entirely understandable. However, at that moment, he simply lacked the mental energy to think straight.
Genji rubbed his temples, now certain he had caught a cold.
Regardless, he needed to get back and lie down soon.
Fujita Misaki leaned closer, frowning as she looked at him. “What’s wrong with you? Your face looks terrible. Are you sick or feeling unwell?”
Genji shook his head, taking a half-step back, and said softly, “It’s nothing, just a bit tired. I’ll head back now, Fujita-senpai. Thank you.”
He bowed politely, then turned towards the elevator, his steps a little unsteady.
Fujita stood rooted to the spot, watching his retreating figure, and mumbled, “He’s running off pretty fast. I wasn’t even done asking.”
She shrugged, then glanced down at the shopping bag in her hand and smiled.
‘To be with Professor Sato, this junior is quite interesting,’ she thought. ‘I’ll tell Rin later; she hasn’t been in a good mood lately. I wonder if it’s related to this junior as well.’
Ever since the Literature Research Society’s activity ended, Rin had been sullen-faced for days, and Fujita had no idea what she was angry about.
With a triumphant smile, Fujita turned and sauntered away.