On the sixth floor of Marui Department Store, inside a high-end men's fashion shop—
A girl wearing a neatly tied bow at her collar, a short-sleeved white blouse, and a gray pleated skirt stood troubled among a sea of white shirts.
She had the kind of ridiculously cute face that broke all rules, with a flawless figure that was slim without being skinny.
Her waist was so slender it looked like it could be held in one hand, and her legs—wrapped in long white socks—were long and lean.
Everything about her was perfect—so perfect there wasn't a single flaw.
Just standing there, she had already become the most dazzling presence in the mall.
Several men who came in to shop were momentarily stunned, forgetting why they'd come as they stared at her in a daze.
"Miss, buying something for your boyfriend?" asked a female store clerk, stepping forward.
"It's not for my boyfriend. I'm buying it for a friend. Just a normal friend."
At the mention of "boyfriend," Umaru's pale little face flushed bright red like a shiny apple—so adorable it made you want to take a bite.
"Got it, a normal friend," the clerk replied, nodding along on the surface, though she clearly didn't believe it.
What kind of girl buys clothes for a "normal friend"?
She didn't believe in pure friendship between men and women.
"Miss, your boy... I mean, your friend—what size do they wear?"
"He wears…"
Umaru suddenly paused.
She had no idea what size Takashi wore.
The clerk noticed her hesitation and asked, "Do you know his height and weight?"
"He's 180 cm tall barefoot and weighs about 64 kg."
Takashi measured his weight regularly.
"Understood."
The clerk got a general idea and started selecting clothes for Umaru.
"Miss, does your friend work out regularly?"
At 180 cm, the standard weight would be around 75 kg. A 10% variance is normal.
But Takashi's weight was clearly on the light side—only people who regularly worked out could maintain that.
Umaru thought for a moment. "Yeah, he works out."
"Do you have a photo, miss? It'll help in picking out the right clothes."
Of course, she mainly just wanted to satisfy her curiosity.
She wanted to know what kind of guy a girl as beautiful as Umaru dated.
"I do."
Umaru didn't really understand why photos were needed to buy clothes, but since the clerk was the professional, she scrolled through her chat history with Takashi and quickly found a gym photo he'd sent her.
If he had sent that early in their friendship, Umaru would've found it sleazy and gross.
But Takashi had gradually chipped away at her heart through chats—starting from clouds, flowers, sunsets… daily life details.
To win over a girl, you have to invade her life, become part of every little corner of it—make her think of you at every turn.
"Wow, do young girls these days all get guys this hot? And lean too…"
The clerk's eyes widened as she gulped, unable to resist complimenting,
"Miss, your boyfriend is really handsome. By the way, I don't think white shirts suit him all that well—come look at this outfit."
…
Half an hour later, Umaru returned home, handing over the shopping bag a little reluctantly.
"Here."
That one outfit for Takashi had nearly cost her ten thousand yen.
She wouldn't even spend that much on herself.
"Thanks, Doma-san."
Takashi accepted the bag and headed into the bathroom.
When he came out, Umaru froze for a moment.
The wine-red patterned shirt and simple slacks perfectly highlighted his model-like figure.
The top three buttons were undone, revealing fair skin and a delicate collarbone—subtly seductive.
Combined with his refined features, he looked like a charming, free-spirited young master.
Suddenly, Umaru understood those rich women who spent money on male models.
It felt like she was playing Shining Nikki in real life.
She didn't feel so bad about the money anymore.
At least, not right now.
Takashi fastened the cufflinks and asked casually, "What do you think?"
"It's okay, I guess. Just average."
Umaru crossed her arms and turned her head to hide the smile tugging at her lips.
"How much was the outfit?"
She waved it off. "Doesn't matter, it wasn't much."
"Alright, then I won't be polite."
Takashi hadn't planned to pay anyway.
Not because he was stingy, but because paying would create distance.
Instead, he planned to get a gift for Umaru.
Since she had bought clothes for him, giving her something in return wouldn't feel forced—she'd definitely accept it.
That way, the first thing this guy ever gave her would end up in Umaru's house.
Every time she came home and saw it, she'd think of him.
—That, too, was a form of infiltration.
"Doma-san, I should get going."
"Huh?"
"You took the day off, but no one did that for me."
Takashi's eyes dimmed slightly, and his smile turned bitter.
"Your parents…"
Halfway through, Umaru seemed to realize something and stopped, her face apologetic. "Sorry."
"It's fine."
Because there were snipers aiming at him, Takashi dared not stand too close—he stayed three steps away and smiled gently.
"Doma-san, I'm really glad I came to Tokyo."
"Before I met you, I was living without any hope."
"I didn't expect anything from anyone."
"That mindset stayed with me… until I met you."
"I started looking forward to things."
"Looking forward to our chats."
"Looking forward to seeing you."
"Looking forward to the day you might accept me."
Umaru stared at him, lips pressed together.
"I know what I'm about to say goes against our original agreement, but…"
Takashi paused, took a deep breath, and said, "I want to cash in an early date."
"Doma-san, may I invite you to the Hachioji Fireworks Festival?"
He slowly reached out his hand toward her.
If you looked closely, you'd see his hand trembling slightly.
Probably from nerves, Umaru guessed.
"I never made any promises with you."
She stared at his shaking hand and said calmly, "The so-called agreement was something you forced on me."
"It doesn't count."
The color drained from Takashi's face, and his hand dropped powerlessly.
"Sorry for bothering you."
"Let's forget about the bet."
His voice was low, and the straight-backed boy suddenly looked like a hunched old man as he turned to leave.
"You big idiot!"
The moment she saw him like that, Umaru knew he misunderstood—she was furious.
Weren't you always so sharp?
Why are you so dumb now?
"I meant the bet was forced, so going with you to the Hachioji Fireworks Festival… doesn't count as breaking it."
She turned her head away like she was sulking, grumbling softly.
Takashi's lips curled upward.
Mission accomplished.
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