After Mika's message landed in the group chat, Makoto picked up his phone to read Yuna's reply. He can already imagine how Yuna would react to that.
Yuna: I'M COMING OVER THERE RIGHT NOW, AND I'M GOING TO SHOVE THAT CREPE SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU'LL BE SHITTING STRAWBERRIES FOR A WEEK.
Makoto shrugged and shook his head, a fond smile on his face as he tried to think of a way to calm Yuna down when they got back later.
But he has something in mind, something more important to do now. "I need to go to the restroom. Just wait here patiently for me like a good girlfriend, will you?" Makoto said as he stood up.
"Of course, I'll be right here. Don't take too long." She took a ladylike bite of her crepe, her eyes already glued to her phone, no doubt re-reading Yuna's furious messages with deep satisfaction.
Makoto gave her a quick nod and walked away. Instead of going to the restroom, he walked, with a determination that surprised even him, back through the brightly lit corridors of the mall and re-entered the ridiculously expensive-looking Chanel store.
The saleswoman with the forced smile looked up, her expression shifting from polite disinterest to mild surprise as Makoto approached her counter.
"Excuse me, is the pink quilted handbag over there still available? Makoto said, his voice firmer than he expected. He pointed to the bag that had caught Mika's eye earlier.
The saleswoman's professional smile became a little more genuine. "That was an excellent choice, sir. Let me get a new one for you," she said smoothly, and carefully retrieved a new bag.
"Will you take an installment for that?" Makoto gave her his card with shaking hands. "Over six or twelve months are fine."
The saleswoman's smile didn't falter, just a little more focused. She had dealt with this kind of customer before. She took his card with a steady, practiced hand, her manicured nails a stark contrast to his trembling fingers.
"Of course, sir," she said. She tapped a few buttons on a sleek black tablet. "We partner with several credit providers for installment plans. For a purchase of this amount... yes, we can offer you a twelve-month, interest-free plan. Would that be suitable?"
He just nodded, his throat suddenly dry. The next few minutes were a blur of tapping, of signing a digital screen with a stylus, and the quiet, final whirr of the receipt printer.
The saleswoman wrapped the purchased bag in layers of soft, black tissue paper and placed the entire package into a conspicuous white shopping bag with black handles. "Thank you for your purchase," she said, her smile now completely genuine.
Makoto took the bag. It felt impossibly heavy in his hand, not from the weight of the leather, but from the weight of the six-figure number on the receipt tucked inside.
He walked back to the crepe shop, the large Chanel bag swinging from his hand. People stared, and a few women even gave him envious, appreciative looks for the lucky girl.
He saw Mika before she saw him. She was still at the table, scrolling through her phone with a small, smug smile on her face. He stopped in front of the table.
Mika looked up, her smile ready, expecting a simple "I'm back." And then she saw the bag in his hand.
Her smug, serene smile vanished, and her mouth fell open. Her eyes, wide with shock and disbelief, darted from the iconic logo on the bag to his face, and back again.
"You... you didn't," she whispered, her voice raw and broken. "You said you went to the... restroom."
"Somehow, I found it near the restroom, must be a coincidence," he giggled, then quickly gave her the shopping bag. "Check if you like your boyfriend's gift?"
Mika's hands were trembling as she took the heavy shopping bag. A small, choked sound escaped her lips. Her calculating mask faded; in her place was just a girl, one who had just been given something so impossibly extravagant just because she looked sad when looking at it.
Her eyes were now filled with tears. They spilled over, tracing clean paths down her cheeks. "You... you idiot. You absolute... idiot."
Mika slowly, carefully opened the bag. The rustling of tissue paper made soft sounds. She lifted the small pink handbag out, holding it in her lap as if it were a newborn.
She didn't say "Thank you," or "I love it." She just looked at Makoto, her face a heartbreaking mess of tears and disbelief. "Why? You... you shouldn't have. This is... too much, too expensive."
And then she moved. She lunged across the small table, knocking over the last of her crepe, and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, and he could feel the hot, wet tears soaking through the fabric of his shirt.
"You're the... worst kind of simp, Makoto," she sobbed, her voice muffled against his chest.
"Hey, hey, people are watching, Mika," he patted her back and her hair, not pushing her away. "I bet you had even more extravagant gifts before, though."
"I have, indeed, but..." she whispered against his chest. Then she pulled back just enough to look at him. Her face was a blotchy mess of tears and smudged makeup. Her mask was gone entirely, leaving behind a vulnerable girl.
"Aside from my mother, no one has ever..." Mika took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain her composure. "She only bought me expensive things to shut me up, or because I get good grades. And other boys give me gifts just because they want something from me."
She looked down at the small but costly handbag in her lap, her voice cracking. "But this...this is different. You didn't have to, you shouldn't have. I was just being a bitch, I was teasing you, darling. I didn't actually expect..."
She looked back up at him, her eyes full of an exhilarating emotion he had never seen in them before. It was not the devotion of a yandere, nor the competitive fire of the second wife. It was just love, pure and overwhelmingly real love.
"This is the first real present I've ever gotten with no strings attached," a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Thank you, Makoto."
"Hmm, don't act so... moved." Makoto stuttered, turning away. He clearly didn't expect the gift to have such an effect. "What if I had bought that because I wanted something from you, too? Like... your body, your love, or something." Despite saying that, he just gently scratched her hair and her neck.
A watery laugh escaped Mika's lips. She didn't pull away. In fact, she leaned into his touch, her head tilting to give him better access to her neck, with a soft, contented purr vibrating in her throat.
When she pulled back just enough to look at him, her face still a mess of beautiful, happy tears. A wobbly but genuine smile touched her lips. "Liar," she whispered, her voice a little stronger now, "You're a terrible liar, darling."
Mika gently took his hand, the one that was scratching her neck, and brought it to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "You took my virginity, you already own my body. You can have it whenever you want for free, like earlier. You didn't need to buy me anything to get it."
She looked from his face to her new handbag and back again. She saw him, not the harem king, not Yuna's fat pig, not the object of her competition. Just him, a kind, stupid man who had seen that she was sad and spent a ridiculous amount of money he probably didn't have just to make her smile.
Mika leaned in, and her lips met his."I love you," she whispered against his lips. "You idiot."
"Hey, only Yuna can call me an idiot. But... I love you too, you silly," Makoto leaned in to kiss her back. A desperate sound escaped her throat as his tongue invaded her mouth.
Mika melted into the kiss, her gratitude instantly consumed by the hungry, possessive fire he had ignited. Her hands, which had been clutching her new handbag, abandoned it on the table, coming up to grip the front of his shirt.
Her tongue met his in a frantic, clumsy dance of overwhelming need. The world around them dissolved into a blur. It was just the two of them, their limbs and tongues, and the salty-sweet taste of her tears and the crepe.
It was a loud, pointed cough from a nearby table that finally broke the spell.
They pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily, their lips swollen and wet. Makoto looked around and saw a middle-aged couple staring at him with open-mouthed disapproval. A group of teenagers was giggling, their phones pointed discreetly in his direction.
"See what you did, Miss Good Girl? What if there are people you know?" He flicked her forehead.
A blush spread from Mika's neck to the tips of her ears. She touched her forehead where he had flicked her, a dazed, almost dreamy expression on her face.
"Me?" she whispered, her voice shaky. She feigned an angelic look of innocence. "I was just being a good girl. It was my bad boyfriend who couldn't control himself."
Mika glanced at the staring people, then at the Chanel bag on the table, then back at Makoto. Then she made another breathtakingly smug smile as she leaned in, her breath warm and sweet against his ear. "Let them look, I want them to see. I want everyone to know that my boyfriend loves me so much he buys me Chanel..."
She gave him a slow, deliberate lick on his earlobe. "... and that I love him so much I can't even wait until we get home to thank him for it."