The Spider Lily Turns into a Chrysanthemum

Ichimaku: Chapter 7

The Kawasaki Ninja H2 SX SE was waiting for them when they arrived at the dealership. Shouma had selected the motorcycle before Yoshino returned from Tokyo, so there was little left to discuss beyond the final paperwork and a brief inspection. While he spoke with the salesperson, Yoshino wandered around the display area, occasionally glancing toward the motorcycle parked near the showroom windows.
The bodywork was predominantly glossy black, with sharp white detailing along the fairings. Its aggressive appearance was unmistakably Kawasaki, although the longer seat and touring design made it considerably more practical than the sport bikes Shouma usually preferred.
Yoshino walked around it slowly, examining the fairings before stopping beside the passenger seat.
“This is fucking beautiful.”
“I know.”
She looked toward him. “How much was it?”
“Enough.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Since when do you care how much I spend?”
The salesperson smiled politely while Shouma signed the final document. Yoshino rested her hand against the passenger seat. “So this is mine?”
Shouma glanced over. “What?”
“My seat.”
“Yeah.”
She looked at the motorcycle again, running her fingers along the edge of the upholstery. “You actually thought about that when you bought it?”
“Of course.”
He answered without looking up from the paperwork, as though there had never been any reason to consider buying something she couldn’t ride with him. Yoshino smiled to herself. The salesperson finished explaining the remaining warranty information and handed Shouma the keys. He thanked him, then turned toward Yoshino. “You’re driving the truck, and you’re gonna follow me.”
She looked up. “Okie dokie.”
Shouma held out the kei truck’s keys. “Don’t lose me.”
Yoshino took them with an offended expression. “You’re the one on the motorcycle. I should be telling you that.” She narrowed her eyes.
Shouma’s mouth curved slightly before he turned away to collect his helmet.

Their next destination was Apple Kyoto, near the busy shopping district along Shijō-dōri. Yoshino followed Shouma through the city, occasionally catching sight of the Kawasaki ahead of her as traffic slowed around the larger intersections. He rode comfortably, his movements controlled and familiar, and she found herself watching him whenever they stopped at a light.
It had been more than a year since she’d ridden behind him. She was looking forward to doing it again. By the time they reached central Kyoto, the streets were crowded with visitors. Seasonal events had brought additional tourists into the city, and the sidewalks surrounding the department stores were filled with people moving between shops and restaurants. Yoshino managed to find a parking space for the kei truck a short distance from where Shouma had parked the motorcycle.
He was waiting beside it when she approached. “Took you long enough.”
“Oh, shut up. Some of us have to find actual parking.”
Shouma looked toward the truck. “You’re crooked.”
“I’m within the lines bro.”
“Barely.”
“Then you can park it next time.”
He gave a quiet snort and started walking. They hadn’t gone far when a tour group stopped directly in front of them, blocking most of the sidewalk. Shouma slowed abruptly, his expression tightening as he looked for a way around. “Tch.”
Yoshino laughed. “You love coming here, don’t you?”
“Can’t stand this place.”
“You’ve lived in Kyoto for years.”
“Doesn’t mean I like these crowds. It’s fucking annoying.”
Another group passed between them, forcing Yoshino to step aside. Shouma glanced back and extended his hand. “Come here.”
She placed her hand in his without hesitation.
“It’s crowded,” he added, guiding her around the people gathered near a storefront.
“Yeah, maybe I can wait for my phone until Monday.”
He didn’t respond, keeping his attention on the pedestrians ahead. Holding hands wasn’t particularly unusual for them. Shouma had done it when they were younger, especially during crowded festivals or public events where keeping Yoshino within reach was easier than constantly checking behind him. She’d never questioned it, and he’d never made a point of explaining himself. Still, she found herself unusually aware of his hand around hers that afternoon. As they continued along the sidewalk, two women approaching from the opposite direction glanced at Shouma. One of them looked toward Yoshino, her gaze briefly dropping to their joined hands before returning to his face. Yoshino noticed.
She wasn’t surprised. Shouma attracted attention fairly often, although he generally behaved as though he hadn’t noticed. What interested her more was the way the women looked at her.
She straightened slightly and matched his stride. When they passed a large storefront window, Yoshino caught their reflection in the glass. Both were dressed in black, with Shouma’s leather jacket giving him his usual severe appearance. Yoshino’s maroon hair stood out against her dark clothes, and their joined hands made the image look considerably more intimate than she’d expected. She looked again.
We actually look good together.
The observation pleased her more than it probably should have. She was still examining their reflection when Shouma glanced down. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re smiling.”
“Am I not allowed to smile?”
“Didn’t say that.”
Yoshino turned toward him with a deliberately innocent expression. “Then what’s the problem?”
Shouma studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Never mind.”
She rolled her eyes and continued walking beside him, still secretly catching glimpses of their reflection.

Inside Apple Kyoto, Yoshino headed directly toward the display phones. She’d already decided she wanted one of the newer models, and after everything that had happened with Kirishima tracking her previous phone, replacing it was something she’d been looking forward to.
“I want red,” she announced.
Shouma stopped beside her. “That makes sense.”
She turned toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your hair’s red.”
“Maroon.”
“Your suitcase is red.”
“Also maroon.”
“Whatever, same shit.”
Yoshino picked up one of the display phones and examined the finish. “There’s a difference, you know.”
“Sure.”
She gave him an unimpressed look before turning her attention to the storage options. Shouma leaned against the edge of the display counter while she compared models. He watched her scroll through the specifications, occasionally glancing toward the other phones arranged nearby.
“Get enough storage,” he said.
“I know.”
“You take a lot of pictures.”
“That’s what phones are for.”
“Half your pictures are food.”
“I don’t know why you act like you don’t occasionally sit next to me to look through photos together. We do it all the time~.”
He shook his head and reached for a black model on the opposite side of the display. Yoshino noticed immediately. “What are you doing?”
“Looking.”
“At a phone?”
“Yeah.”
“You already have one.”
“Yeah and I should get a new one.” Shouma looked at her.
And then Yoshino looked back at him,“Why?”
“Because then we’ll have the same model.” He examined the phone in his hand. “Anyways, it would be easier to “facetime” if I had an iphone instead of an android.”
“True.”
“What color do you want me to have?.”
“Black. I mean the lavender would be cute–”
“No, I’ll just do black.” He turned the phone over, studying the camera before checking the available storage.
Yoshino moved closer and held the red model beside his. “See? They look good together.”
Shouma glanced at the phones, then at her. “If you say so.” He returned his attention to the display, although the faint movement at the corner of his mouth suggested he found her enthusiasm amusing.

By the time they left the store, Yoshino had purchased a red iPhone, and Shouma had upgraded to a black iPhone. They found a quieter place outside to finish setting everything up. Shouma transferred his information first while Yoshino worked through the settings on her new phone, occasionally asking him questions when something didn’t behave the way she expected. Once her contacts were restored, she opened the location-sharing settings.
Shouma noticed. “What are you doing?”
“Sharing my location with you.”
He looked up from his screen. “You don’t need to.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because I want to.”
Shouma lowered his phone. “Yoshino.” She glanced at him. “I’m not Kirishima.”
Her expression changed slightly. “I know you’re not.”
“Then don’t feel like you have to do that.”
She studied him for a moment before returning her attention to the screen. “I want to know where YOU’RE at,” Shouma’s eyes widened and Yoshino continued, “I’d rather you know where I am if something happens. Especially once I’m living here.”
Shouma considered that. “I can find you without it.”
Yoshino looked up sharply. “That’s a terrible way to phrase that.”
He gave a faint, reluctant smile. “You know what I mean.”
She finished selecting his contact and held the phone toward him. “Besides, I trust you.”
Shouma’s expression settled. He looked at her for a moment longer than usual before glancing down at the notification appearing on his screen. “You sure?”
“Yes. Do you think I’m just half assing shit all the time? Stop asking me if I’m sure.”
He accepted the invitation. “Fine.”
Yoshino returned to her settings, apparently satisfied with the arrangement. Shouma remained quiet beside her. He understood why she wanted him to have access to her location, and he wasn’t going to refuse something that might make protecting her easier. Still, he was conscious of the difference between Yoshino offering him that information willingly and the circumstances that had forced her to abandon her previous phone. He’d seen enough of Kirishima’s behavior to understand how easily something ordinary could become another means of control.
“Done,” Yoshino announced.
Shouma looked over. She held up her phone. “Now you can keep track of me.”
“Don’t make it sound like that.”
She laughed and slipped the phone into her bag. “Come on. We still have groceries to buy.”
Shouma stood and offered her his hand again as they stepped back into the crowded sidewalk. Their next stop was FRESCO. Yoshino took charge of the shopping almost immediately, pushing the cart while Shouma followed beside her. She had already decided what she wanted to cook over the next several days, and most of the ingredients were ordinary staples that she was accustomed to keeping at home. Shouma occasionally reached for something when she pointed it out, although he questioned several of her choices. “Why are we buying this much?”
“Because you don’t have food.”
“I have food.”
“I already said it before, you have condiments.”
He looked at the package of chicken she’d just placed in the cart. “How much are you planning to cook?”
“Enough that you won’t have to eat out every day.”
“I don’t eat out every day.”
Yoshino stopped pushing the cart and looked at him. Shouma met her gaze.
After a moment, he looked away. “Most days.”
“Exactly, trust me, I asked Hotei about you at least twice a week while I was in Tokyo.”
She continued toward the produce section. Shouma stood right behind her, stunned a bit from what she just said but he shook his head, and followed her. Yoshino was comparing two packages of mushrooms when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Well, look who it is~~.”

Shouma’s shoulders lowered slightly. He didn’t need to turn around. Yoshino looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Tsubaki standing at the end of the aisle with Akira Miyamori beside her. “Tsubaki!”
“Fancy seeing you two here.”
Akira raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, Yoshino.”
“Hi, Akira.”
He was dressed more casually than he had been the previous evening, wearing a fitted shirt and trousers. A small shopping basket hung from his hand, containing several drinks and ingredients that looked as though they were intended for lunch. Shouma glanced toward Tsubaki. She smiled at him. He looked away. Yoshino noticed the exchange and suppressed a laugh.
“So,” Tsubaki began, looking between them, “how was last night?”
“Fine,” Shouma answered.
“I wasn’t asking you.” Tsubaki’s smile widened. “Did you like my present, Yoshino?”
Yoshino’s expression changed. She knew exactly what her cousin meant. “Tsubaki…um that’s kind of embarrassing to ask… here…in this place.”
Tsubaki tilted her head with exaggerated innocence. “I was only asking.”
Shouma looked toward the ceiling. “Here we go.”
Tsubaki ignored him. “Did you two finally sleep together?”
Yoshino had just taken a sip of her drink. She coughed abruptly and turned away, nearly spilling it down the front of her shirt.
Akira stepped back. “Whoa. You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she managed, wiping her mouth before glaring at her cousin. “What the hell, Tsubaki? Ugh, I mean, what the heck… god I never curse at you and you just made me do so.”
Tsubaki laughed. Shouma’s expression remained flat. “Do you ever get tired of saying stupid shit?”
“Not particularly, Shouma.”
“Try it.”
Akira looked between them, visibly confused, and pointed at Yoshino and Shouma. “Wait. I thought you two were dating.”
Yoshino turned toward him. “What?”
He gestured vaguely between her and Shouma. “I mean, you seem pretty close.”
Shouma’s gaze shifted toward Akira. “And what are you?”
Akira blinked. “What?”
“Which boyfriend are you, or you Tsubaki’s fuck toy number 2, or maybe 3?”
The question was delivered so evenly that Akira took a moment to understand the insult.
“Damn, man. What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Geez man.”
Tsubaki slipped her arm through Akira’s. “Don’t mind him. Shouma’s always been charming.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Akira muttered.
Tsubaki smiled toward Shouma. “Akira knows exactly where he stands with me. And he’s important to me, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make a habit of insulting him.”
Shouma looked at her. “Then tell him to stop asking stupid questions.”
Yoshino pressed her lips together. Tsubaki’s expression remained pleasant, although her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re lucky Yoshino likes you.”
Shouma gave a small shrug.
Akira sighed and shifted his shopping basket to his other hand. “Can we not do this in the middle of the grocery store?”
Yoshino glanced at him sympathetically. “Welcome to the family.”
He laughed. Tsubaki turned toward her cousin again. “Anyway, you’re still coming tonight, right?”
Yoshino stared at her. “Tonight?”
“The party.”
Yoshino’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”
Tsubaki raised an eyebrow. “You forgot.”
“I’ve been busy!”
“I invited you weeks ago.”
“I was dealing with Tokyo weeks ago.”
Tsubaki considered that for a moment. “Fine. I’ll allow it.”
Shouma looked between them. “What party?”
Yoshino turned toward him with an apologetic expression. “Tsubaki invited us to something tonight.”
“You didn’t mention it.”
“I forgot.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Of course you did.”
Tsubaki folded her arms. “It starts at nine.”
“Where?” Shouma asked.
“My parents’ penthouse,” Akira answered.
Yoshino looked at him. “Yourparents are okay with that?”
“They’re out of town.”
“Ah.”
Tsubaki leaned against Akira’s shoulder. “It’ll be fun. You should both come.”
Shouma didn’t appear convinced. “What kind of party?”
“The usual,” Tsubaki replied.
“That tells me nothing.”
“People we know., music, Akira’s DJ friend, an open bar, the usual .”
Akira nodded. “It’ll be a good chance to get to know everyone before Monday.”
Shouma’s gaze moved toward him. “Monday?”
“Yeah. Since we’re going to be working together.”
Shouma straightened slightly. “Working together?”
Tsubaki’s smile faltered for the first time. “Oh, look at the time.”
Shouma turned toward her. “What the fuck does working together mean.”
“We should get going.” Tsubaki pulls Akira with her and they turn around, speed walking away from Shouma.

“What does he mean???” Shouma turns to Yoshino and she just shakes her head with a non-verbal ‘I don’t know’.
“What the actual fuck…”
Akira glanced back with an apologetic expression before following Tsubaki around the corner.
Shouma remained standing beside the cart, watching them disappear. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he looked at Yoshino. “What the fuck does he mean, working together?”
Yoshino scratched her cheek. “I actually don’t know.”
He stared at her. “Great.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t arrange anything.”
“I know.”
She glanced toward the aisle where Tsubaki had disappeared. “I’ll ask her later.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll ask Renji.”
Yoshino looked back at him. “You’re not mad about the party, are you?”
Shouma picked up the mushrooms she’d abandoned and placed them in the cart. “No.”
“Because I really did forget.”
“I heard you.”
She watched him for another moment. “So you’ll come?”
He glanced at her. “You’re going?”
“Yeah, I promised her.”
“Then I’m going.”
Yoshino smiled. “Okay.”
Shouma returned his attention to the shopping cart. “Are we done here?”
“Almost.”
He looked at the remaining space in the cart. “That’s what you said twenty minutes ago.”
“And I meant it twenty minutes ago.”
He shook his head and followed her toward the next aisle. For the remainder of the shopping trip, Shouma had a bothered look on his face.

They finished shopping without encountering anyone else they knew. Yoshino added enough ingredients to prepare several meals, along with fruit and yogurt for breakfast. She also found a boxed set of food-storage containers, which she placed in the cart without hesitation.
Shouma looked at them. “No.”
“Yes.”
“We have containers.”
“You have three.”
“That’s enough.”
“For what? Three things?”
He stared at her. Yoshino placed the box more securely in the cart. “We’re keeping leftovers.”
“We?”
She looked up at him. “Did you forget I might be living here next year?”
Shouma’s expression barely changed, although his eyes remained on her for another moment. “No.”
“Then get used to it.”
He said nothing and continued pushing the cart. Outside, Shouma loaded the groceries into the back of the kei truck while Yoshino stood beside him, stretching her arms overhead. The afternoon had grown warmer, and she was beginning to regret wearing jeans. When he finished, he closed the rear door and leaned against the truck. “You know you don’t have to go tonight.”
Yoshino lowered her arms. She looked at him.
“We could stay home,” he continued. “Cook something. Watch a movie.”
Yoshino considered the suggestion. After spending most of the day running errands, the prospect of staying at the townhouse sounded appealing. She hadn’t had much time alone with Shouma since returning from Tokyo, and an evening without Tsubaki making comments about their relationship would have been considerably more relaxing.
But she’d already promised her cousin. “I told Tsubaki I’d go.”
“I know.”
“And you know how she gets when people cancel.”
“Unfortunately.”
Yoshino smiled. “Besides, it might be fun.”
Shouma looked unconvinced, but he didn’t argue. “Fine.” He glanced down at his clothes. “What are we wearing?”
Yoshino’s expression brightened. Shouma noticed immediately. “No.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“We could go shopping.”
He closed his eyes. “I honestly would like to go home and sleep.”
“Come on. You need something nice to wear anyway.”
“I own clothes.”
“I know you own clothes.”
“Then what’s wrong with them?”
“Nothing. I just want to pick something out for you.”
He watched her for a moment before looking toward the motorcycle. “How long?”
“Not long.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“An hour. Just give me an hour.”
Shouma sighed. “Fine. But we’re going home first. I want to eat.”
Yoshino grinned and headed toward the driver’s door. Shouma watched her climb into the truck before walking toward his motorcycle.

Back at the townhouse, Yoshino reversed the kei truck into the garage while Shouma parked the Kawasaki beside it. She climbed out and paused to admire the two vehicles.
“Our garage looks pretty good now.”
Shouma removed his helmet. “Mhm.” He gave her a questioning look.
Yoshino smiled and headed toward the rear of the truck to help unload the groceries.
Inside, they began putting everything away. Yoshino organized the refrigerator while Shouma handled the pantry, although she quickly discovered that his idea of organization differed considerably from hers.
“Why is the rice up there?”
“Because that’s where I put it.”
“It’s supposed to go down here.”
“According to who?”
“Me.”
Shouma looked at her.
Yoshino reached past him toward the cabinet. “Move.”
He shifted at the same moment, and their shoulders bumped. Yoshino turned. Shouma was standing directly in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to meet his eyes. One of his hands rested against the cabinet beside her, and his expression changed almost imperceptibly when he realized how little space remained between them.
Neither moved immediately. Yoshino’s gaze drifted toward his mouth before returning to his eyes. Shouma noticed. His fingers shifted against the cabinet door, and for a moment, he seemed about to say something.
Then Yoshino stepped back. “Rice goes there,” she said, pointing toward the lower shelf.
Shouma glanced at the cabinet. “Okay.”
She nodded. “Good.”
He moved the rice without another word. Yoshino returned to the refrigerator, suddenly very interested in arranging the vegetables. Shouma closed the pantry door and reached for the remaining grocery bags. Neither mentioned what had happened. Once everything was put away, they sat at the kitchen table with the bentos they’d purchased earlier. Yoshino had chosen grilled salmon with rice and tamagoyaki, while Shouma’s meal contained karaage and beef.
For a while, they ate quietly.
Yoshino was halfway through her rice when she noticed Shouma looking at her. “What?”
He lowered his chopsticks. “Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you staring?”
His mouth moved slightly.
Yoshino frowned. “Shouma.”
He pressed his lips together.
She leaned forward. “What?”
That was enough. Shouma turned his face away, but a laugh escaped before he could stop it.
Yoshino stared at him. “What the fuck?”
He covered his mouth with one hand, his shoulders beginning to shake.
“Shouma!”
He tried to answer, but another laugh interrupted him.
Yoshino looked down at herself. “What? Did I spill something?”
He shook his head, still laughing. She reached for her phone and opened the front-facing camera.
A few grains of rice were stuck beside her nostril, with a small piece of seaweed hanging awkwardly beneath it, almost like a booger.
Yoshino froze. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Shouma laughed again.
She grabbed a napkin and wiped her face. “How long has that been there?”
He attempted to answer, but his voice broke into another laugh.
“Shouma!”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not!”
He leaned back in his chair, finally managing to catch his breath. Yoshino stared at him, her embarrassment gradually giving way to amusement. She’d seen Shouma smile before. He occasionally laughed at something she said, usually when she wasn’t trying to be funny. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him laugh this openly. His eyes had narrowed, and the tension that usually settled around his mouth was gone. Even his posture had changed, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back against the chair.
Yoshino smiled.
Shouma noticed. “What?”
“Nothing, aside from the fact that you never laugh…and when you do, it’s when I’m doing something embarrassing.” She rested her chin against her hand. “You have a nice laugh.”
He stopped smiling.
Yoshino grinned. “There he is.”
“Shut up.”
She laughed, and despite his attempt to maintain a straight face, another quiet chuckle escaped him. Yoshino returned to her food, still smiling.
Shouma glanced at the clock. “All right. We need to get moving.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to finish shopping and get some sleep before tonight.”
Yoshino looked toward the clock.
“Actually, that sounds good.”
He stood and collected their empty containers. “Then hurry up.”
.
A short while later, Yoshino slipped on her Converse near the entrance while Shouma disappeared into the closet beside the stairs.
When he returned, he tossed something toward her.
She caught it against her chest.
A black leather jacket.
Yoshino looked up.
“This is yours.”
“Wear it.”
She held it out in front of her. “It’s huge.”
“Better than freezing on the bike.”
Her expression changed. “We’re taking the Kawasaki?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled and pulled the jacket on.
The sleeves extended slightly past her wrists, and the shoulders were broader than hers. She adjusted the collar before looking toward Shouma. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re wearing my jacket.”
“Very helpful.”
“You look great, like always.” He opened the closet again and retrieved two motorcycle helmets.
Yoshino recognized hers immediately. It was the same helmet he’d bought for her seventeenth birthday. She took it from him and turned it over in her hands. “You kept this?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t used it in almost two years.”
“I know.”
She examined the familiar design before looking up at him. “Think it still fits?”
“Of course it should, silly.”
Yoshino slipped it over her head and adjusted the padding. “Still fits.”
“Told you.” Outside, Shouma rolled the Kawasaki into position and started the engine. The motorcycle settled into a low mechanical rumble as he climbed onto the seat.
Yoshino approached, but he stopped her before she could get on. “Wait.”
She looked at him. “What?”
“Your strap.” He reached toward her helmet and adjusted the fastening beneath her chin.
Yoshino stood still while he worked.
From this angle, his face was close enough that she could see the faint crease between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the clasp. His fingers moved carefully beneath her chin, checking that the strap sat securely without pressing against her throat. “There.”
He gave the fastening a final tug. “Comfortable?”
“Yeah.”
Shouma withdrew his hand and put on his own helmet. Yoshino climbed onto the passenger seat behind him.
“Hold on,” he said.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. The familiar position brought back memories of the rides they’d taken before she moved to Tokyo. She’d missed being on the motorcycle with him, especially the quiet stretches when they could travel for miles without needing to talk.
Shouma glanced down at her hands before adjusting his grip on the handlebars.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He eased the Kawasaki onto the road. As they accelerated, Yoshino leaned forward and settled against his back, following the motorcycle’s movement through the first turn. Shouma rode smoothly, keeping his speed controlled while they navigated the residential streets.
Once they reached the wider road, he accelerated. Yoshino tightened her arms around him.
Shouma glanced briefly toward the mirror, checking her position before returning his attention to traffic. He’d missed having her behind him. It was something he’d become accustomed to when they were younger, and riding alone had felt noticeably different during the year she’d spent in Tokyo. He preferred knowing exactly where she was, although he was careful not to let that distract him from the road. They continued toward central Kyoto, passing through familiar neighborhoods before approaching the larger shopping district. Their destination was Kyoto Takashimaya S.C. Yoshino had already decided what she wanted to wear.

Inside the department store, she led Shouma toward a multi-brand boutique and began examining the dresses arranged along the racks. He followed a short distance behind, occasionally glancing toward the men’s section while she compared styles. She found what she wanted after several minutes. It was a fitted black faux-leather midi dress, with structured seams that followed the bodice and gave it a subtle corseted appearance. The neckline was simple, and the material was fitted through the waist and hips before ending below the knee.
Yoshino held it against herself and turned toward Shouma.
“What do you think?”
He looked at the dress. “Looks fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“An actual opinion.”
He examined the dress again. “It’ll look good on you.”
Yoshino smiled. “See? Was that so difficult?”
Shouma looked away, giving Yoshino a playful eye roll.
She selected black open-toe heels with ankle straps and a pair of long gold earrings to complete the outfit. Shouma watched her gather everything. “Done?”
“With mine.”
He sighed. “Right.”
Yoshino smiled and headed toward the men’s section. She found a fitted sleeveless black turtleneck almost immediately, followed by tailored black trousers cropped just above the ankle. After comparing several pairs of shoes, she selected black leather Chelsea boots. Shouma looked at the outfit she’d assembled. “No.”
Yoshino turned toward him. “What?”
“The boots.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
He picked one up and examined it. “They look ridiculous.”
“They’re Chelsea boots.”
“I can see that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I have boots.”
“Not these.”
He looked at her.
Yoshino folded her arms. “Try them on.”
Shouma sighed and put the boot down. “What about my regular leather boots?”
“They won’t work with the trousers.”
“Dress shoes?”
“No.”
He held up the sleeveless turtleneck. “And this?”
“What about it?”
“Why doesn’t it have sleeves?”
Yoshino stared at him. “Because it’s sleeveless.”
“I know what sleeveless means.”
“Then why are you asking?”
He looked at the shirt again. “It’s a weird design.”
“It’ll look good on you.”
“Yoshino…It’s a turtleneck.”
“And?”
“…With no sleeves.”
Yoshino pressed her lips together, visibly struggling not to laugh. “Shouma, just try it.”
He looked at her for another moment before giving in. “Fine.”
He disappeared into the fitting room with the clothes. Yoshino waited outside, checking her phone while he changed. When he emerged, she looked up. The sleeveless turtleneck fitted closely across his chest, leaving his tattooed arms exposed. The tailored trousers sat neatly at his waist, and the Chelsea boots gave the outfit a cleaner silhouette than his usual motorcycle clothes.
Yoshino lowered her phone. Shouma glanced at himself in the mirror. “Well?”
She took a moment to answer. “It looks… FANTASTIC..”
He turned slightly, examining the trousers. “Comfortable enough.”
“See?”
He looked toward her. “You’re staring.”
Yoshino blinked. “I’m checking the fit.” She stepped closer and adjusted the fabric near his shoulder. “The shirt sits better than I thought.”
Shouma looked down at her hand. “You picked it.”
“I know.”
She smoothed the fabric once more before stepping back. “You look so damn good.”
He examined himself in the mirror again. Yoshino smiled and headed toward the counter while Shouma followed her. Deep down she was hiding the fact that she caught herself ogling at Shouma. He looks so damn good… and his arms… his damn biceps. I really need to stop having these thoughts.

The saleswoman greeted them while arranging the clothing for purchase.
“Would your boyfriend like to try the trousers in another size before you decide?”
Yoshino paused. Shouma glanced toward her. “No, these fit,” she answered.
The saleswoman nodded. “Good. They’re final sale, so I wanted to make sure.”
Yoshino smiled politely. “I know his size.”
Shouma remained quiet beside her. When the saleswoman finished preparing the purchase, he took out his wallet. “I’ll pay.”
Yoshino looked at him. “You don’t have to pay for mine.”
He paid for everything and collected the shopping bag before she could say anything else. As they left the boutique, Yoshino reached toward the bag, but Shouma shifted it to his other hand.
“I’ve got it.”
“I can carry something.”
“I know.”
She looked at him for a moment before letting her hand fall. The shopping district had grown busier during their time inside. Shouma took her hand as they moved through the crowd, guiding her around a group gathered near the escalators. Yoshino followed without complaint. A few schoolgirls standing near one of the storefronts glanced toward Shouma as they passed. One whispered something to her friend, who looked up and began smiling. Yoshino noticed.
Shouma did too. He continued walking, although his expression tightened slightly.
“You have admirers,” Yoshino remarked.
“Don’t start.”
“They think you’re cute.”
“Good for them.”
“You could at least acknowledge your fans.”
“Walk faster.”
Yoshino matched his pace. “Such a friendly guy.”
Shouma glanced down at her. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
He shook his head and continued toward the exit. Outside, they made their way back to the motorcycle. Shouma secured the shopping bag before turning toward Yoshino. “Come here.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“Your hair.”
He reached toward the clip holding her maroon hair in place.
Yoshino stood still while he adjusted it.
“The helmet’s going to push against this,” he explained, removing the clip from her hair. “You’ll get a headache.”
“Okay.”
He checked the position once more before reaching for her helmet. Behind them, Yoshino heard a familiar burst of giggling. She glanced over her shoulder. The same schoolgirls from inside the department store were standing a short distance away, whispering among themselves while watching Shouma. One of them noticed Yoshino looking. Yoshino smiled politely. The girls immediately looked away, suddenly occupied with their phones.
Shouma followed her gaze. “Seriously?”
Yoshino laughed. “What?”
“Don’t acknowledge their presence.” He shook his head and handed her the helmet. “Put this on.”
She did, and he checked the strap before climbing onto the Kawasaki. Yoshino settled behind him, adjusting her position on the passenger seat. Before he could start the engine, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned forward against his back. Shouma glanced down at her hands. “We haven’t moved yet.”
“I know.”
He rested one hand briefly over hers. “Hold on properly once we get going.”
“I always do.”
“I know, I just can’t help but remind you.”
His hand remained there for another moment before he returned it to the handlebars. Yoshino settled more comfortably against him. She could feel the steady warmth of his back through the leather jacket, and the familiar position made her reluctant to move away. She’d spent much of the previous year missing ordinary moments like this, although she hadn’t realized how much until she’d returned home. Shouma started the engine. The Kawasaki settled into its familiar rumble beneath them, and Yoshino tightened her arms slightly as he prepared to pull away.
He checked the mirrors before easing into traffic. Neither spoke as they headed back toward the townhouse. Yoshino rested her helmet lightly against his back, following his movements through the turns while the city passed around them. Shouma remained focused on the road, occasionally checking the mirrors to make sure she was comfortable. It had been a long afternoon, and they still had Tsubaki’s party ahead of them. For now, neither seemed particularly interested in hurrying home.

CHAPTER 8 ->