Mochizuki Haruka's cheeks still burned from surprise as the sales clerk disappeared. Sohow she'd thought nobody would notice in this hidden corner of the shop—so much for their secret couple look try-on.
We squeezed together to avoid prying eyes, and still got caught… Talk about romcom luck.
A glance told she was praying the staff didn't imagine us doing anything too weird. Considering how tightly we'd packed into that little fitting room, I doubted anyone wasn't imagining sothing.
I stepped out first to grab the matching pants, the clerk sending another playful wink my way.
"Miss, your boyfriend is so handso…"
Haruka just about combusted. Flustered—but blissfully so.
Not much later, we checked out, arms loaded with new couple shirts and matching pants. It was already noon, stomachs rumbling for sothing more satisfying than retail therapy.
"Want to handle the grilling?" I offered, already picturing sizzling hot plates.
She bead.
"Leave it to you, Ginjo-san!"
Switch: lunchti, teppanyaki restaurant. Golden light filtered through the windows, the sll of soy and cooked batter winding in the air. Another busy chain—nothing fancy, but who cared? The perfect spot called to us with the promise of comfort food and easy laughter.
I poured half the batter onto the iron plate, the hiss and crackle adding a soundtrack. Layers of cheese, more batter, wait for bubbles, flip with a practiced wrist—it felt like ho.
Haruka watched, eyes wide.
"You're a pro at this, Ginjo-san!"
I flashed her a half-smile, flipping another side, letting the golden surface set. Chat blood as we waited for lunch to cook.
"Mochizuki-san, you always say work is busy. Is that just an excuse?" I teased.
She pouted. "Hey! It's real—you'd be shocked. The new product launches, the marketing, the deadlines. My head barely stays above water so days."
But a sigh and smile told the worst was finally over.
"I'm back to normal hours now. No more overti—finally breathing again."
We swapped stories— about school, festivals, exams, her about dreams, mories, and how different life felt now compared to her college days. I realized too late my "typical college life" was maybe sothing she'd long envied more than experienced.
"Sorry, Mochizuki-san… I didn't an to dig up old regrets."
But she squeezed my hand, smiled softly.
"Not at all. Now I get real college dates too—can't complain."
We dug deeper—free ti, hobbies, confessions of late-night manga and light novel binges.
"I've always been a stay-at-ho girl," she admitted, swirling sauce on her teppan cake. "Reading light novels in my pajamas—now I'm lucky enough to do it with Ginjo-san nearby."
"I'm out of good manga. You need to recomnd so," I said, mouth half-full of crispy batter.
Her eyes sparkled.
"Really? We'll have one more thing in common, then!"
Smiles beca laughter. I topped the teppan with mayonnaise, sprinkled bonito flakes, sliced it up neat. Picking up a steaming morsel, I couldn't resist.
I held it out, chopsticks poised.
"Say ahh~"
She stared, wide-eyed, lips parted, heartbeat written all over her face.
"Is this okay?"
I just smiled back, every answer in my gaze.
Slowly, she opened her mouth and took the bite—happiness radiating out like a sumr sunrise.
Hot as it was, she barely noticed, too wrapped in the sweetness of the mont.
After lunch, we wandered the mall—more shops, more laughing, more mories. Next up was a real movie in a proper theater, but first: rooftop break.
The open-air courtyard above was alive: fountains, kids sprinting across lawns, couples snuggled on benches, the distant hum of a public radio concert. Music, laughter, flower scents everywhere.
We sat side by side, sun warming our skin, gazes up at Tokyo's clear sky. I felt her weight against my shoulder, her hand slipped into mine, her happiness like a living thing between us.
"So happy…" she murmured—maybe too happy for words, too pretentious for casual listeners.
But her smile told she wasn't thinking about anyone else, or anyone's judgnts.
Just the two of us, and the folder in her heart labeled "happiness"—filled to the very top.
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