The boutique was quiet and refined—mirrors tall, lighting soft, the scent of delicate fabric and wood polish in the air.
Kyouko stepped out of the fitting room, wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her waist.
She turned slightly, hands brushing her hips, then looked at Haruki.
He sat relaxed on the velvet bench, arms crossed, one brow raised.
"What do you think of this, Haruki?" she asked with a shy smile.
Haruki tilted his head, eyes moving over her slowly. "Hmm… good."
A pause.
"But not perfect."
Kyouko pouted gently, then laughed. "You're so strict."
She disappeared behind the curtain again.
Moments later, she stepped out in a lighter, champagne-colored piece—simple, soft, with a flow near the legs.
"How about this one?"
Haruki glanced up again.
"Too casual."
Kyouko sighed, then smiled again—enjoying the process more than she let on.
Each time she came out, she watched his face carefully.
Not just to hear his answer—but to feel it.
That silent approval.
