"I never said it was ugly," Irie replies, slightly irked. "It's just…not your color."

"I remember you saying I look good in anything," Kotoko says, still clutching the bright purple blouse. She hasn't let go of it since they first entered the store, picking it up off the shelves immediately. It's not a bad purchase, actually, it's clearance, so Irie's not…entirely against it.

"You can't take that back!" Kotoko's laughing, putting the blouse up to her neck, basically trying it on. "What do you think? Is it cute on me?"

"Buy it if you want," Irie sighs, pushing the cart into the next section of the store. They've got button up shirts here, organized by multiple color schemes. He glances back at Kotoko before he leaves. "Just don't cry when you can't match with me. You'll look weird next to me, I've got nothing purple."

"No need to worry about that! I'll buy you a purple shirt too! Then we won't have any problem matching!"

"I'd rather not wear anything purple," Irie tells her, turning away. He pushes the cart out of the clothing section entirely, sees the floor transition from a slippery wood back to the smooth ceramic tiles. The cart's always easier to handle on the hardwood; Irie sort of misses the ease.

Though it's always easier to push the cart when there's nothing in it.

There's a sale on eggplants. A great deal he'd seen in the paper. He'd just remembered about it; Kotoko's shirt triggered the memory.

Time to go down to Grocery. He'd like some tomatoes as well.


When he returns, cart halfway filed with vegetables — alright, he might've gone overboard — Irie finds that Kotoko is nowhere to be found. Usually, she lets him buy the food, and she purchases clothing. He'd expected her to be in the same place, still fawning over the softness of the shirt sleeves or whatever it was that got her so excited.

Irie sighs, pushes the cart back to where he started, practically parks it off to the side of the clothing section. He'd only been gone for what, fifteen minutes? And she's already run off?

He pulls out his phone, taps his foot against the wheel of the cart.

There's a body length mirror right in front of him. Irie glances at it for a while, finally looks away when he's certain no one is behind him. The store's pretty empty today, which is surprising for a Saturday.

He's met with Kotoko's giggling voicemail when he tries to call her.

Irie calls her three more times, almost slaps his flip phone shut in frustration when she still doesn't pick up.

Really, where is she?

Irie thinks.

Kotoko is probably chatting with a stranger, probably helping them unload their groceries. Knowing her, she's probably even paying for them.

Perhaps she's underestimated his shopping speed.

He tries calling her one more time, after waiting a minute or two.

When there is still no real Kotoko greeting him, Irie begins to worry. Countless conclusions swarm his mind, and it's only when he blinks back to the mirror that he spots a thick, beige colored sandal in the corner of it.

It's Kotoko, crouched down, flipping through shirts, oblivious to everything around her. There's at least ten different shirts misplaced on the lower shelf, all haphazardly folded.

"Kotoko? Where have you been?" Irie asks, pocketing his phone as he abandons the cart, walking over to her instead.

"What do you mean?" She blinks up at him, innocently, an unfolded button-up shirt in her hands. "I've been here."

"No, you haven't," Irie says. "I came here twice, looking for you. Where were you?"

"I was here," she says, getting to her feet. "I was here the whole time. She spots the cart off to the side, vegetables of all sorts in the cart. Irie has even organized them; the vegetables are all neatly placed in the cart. "Ooh! You bought your favorites, didn't you! Let's see what you got!"

He reaches out his arm, blocking her when she tries to move towards the far-away cart. "Not yet. I still don't believe you. There's no way you were here the whole time."

"I was," Kotoko whines, "why can't you believe me? Anyways, let me go! We've been here long enough, I want to go home!"

"So do I! I was looking all over for you. If you didn't run off somewhere, we'd already be home. It's your fault for wasting time."

Kotoko stops trying to break through the barrier (Irie's arm) and glances up at him. "Were you worried about me?"

"No," Irie lies, finally dropping his arm. "I was about to pay, actually, before I remembered you."

"You forgot about me?"

Irie pauses.

"This is the men's section, isn't it?"

She nods, still angry, muttering something about how she can't believe he was about to leave without her!

In response, Irie simply shakes his head at her, points at the mess of shirts she's in. "Which of those is mine?"

"Huh?"

"You were picking out clothing for me, weren't you? I want to see what you chose for me."

Kotoko's eyes widen. "Clothes? For you?" He can hear the genuine confusion in Kotoko's voice.

Irie glances behind them, searching. Is something distracting her?

When he turns back around, he's still confused. The store is empty. There is no one else in the section, not even an employee, which is concerning and rare; they tend to lurk around.

Kotoko laughs, a tinkling sort of giggle that — to his chagrin — dissipates some of his confusion. "Oh! These aren't for you, silly, they're for Yuuki! He's been growing taller these days, oh, I remember when he was so short and tiny! He was so cute back then…" Kotoko trails off, smiling.

Irie blinks at her. "You were buying clothes for Yuuki?"

"Yes," she says, giggling. "I thought you didn't want me to get you a matching shirt, so I put it back on the shelf. I even folded the shirts!"

"I can tell you folded them all," Irie says. "If an employee did that, they'd be fired instantly."

"I'm going to ignore that," Kotoko replies, frowning.

"I hope the manager ignores the mess as well. My condolences to the employee who'll be fixing your mess."

He can't help but to laugh out loud at her expression, momentarily breaking character. Truthfully, he couldn't care less about the state of the store. There's been worse messes in retail, and honestly, it's therapeutic to fold clothes, make them all nice and neat.

Kotoko doesn't have to know that, though.

Her genuine reaction is so amusing; Kotoko is horrified by his words, visibly troubled.

"…Will they really get fired because of me?" Even her voice wobbles, her eyebrows slightly pulled upwards, worried.

"Sadly yes," Irie sighs, feigning sadness, "and without the steady income they'll soon be joining our city's rising homeless population — "

"I'm done listening to you!" Kotoko says, finally realizing that he's messing with her. It always takes her a considerable amount of time to catch on.

Kotoko frowns as she waits for his laughter to die down. "Anyways, Irie-kun, do you think Yuuki will like his shirt? It's not the same brand as the one I was going to get you, but I think it's still good enough."

"Sure," Irie replies, starts walking back to the cart.

Kotoko grabs the shirt she'd been examining — a large, button up brown one, and follows Irie, though she's still a distance away from him, her arms now folded behind her back.

He ignores the weird, slow way she's walking, focuses straight ahead instead.

"You said no to a shirt of your own, right, Irie-kun?"

"I did," he replies, examining a stalk of celery he'd thrown in the cart. It's a large one, which is good, his mother frequently uses celery for her soups. Celery also goes well with tomatoes, which Irie had bought a lot of. Sales are always nice. "Let's go now."

"Did you really think I wouldn't buy you a matching shirt?" That giggle of hers again.

Irie turns, sees her whip out another shirt behind her back. Yuuki's brown shirt falls to the floor; Kotoko doesn't notice it. She's too busy laughing. Her smile is all too contagious; Irie finds himself in an even better mood than before. "I knew you'd be sad if I didn't buy you something too, so of course I got a purple shirt for you!"

"Me? Sad? " Irie laughs, rests his arms on the cart. "I'm sad that the shirt is coming home with us. I already told you to not buy me anything purple."

"You were sad, just admit it! I saw your face! You. Were. Sad!"

"Shush! Stop being so loud!"

"There's not many people here today," Kotoko says. She starts glancing around as she takes a step towards him. She's talking, going on about something but all Irie sees is the way she's about to slip on the crumpled shirt in her path, all he can see is her clunky platform sandals tangled in the dropped shirt.

He ends up at her side, not even thinking about how or when he got there, but before Irie can reach out, Kotoko's already steadied herself, giggling nervously up at Irie.

Irie returns her sheepish laugh with a glare. "That could've ended badly," he tells her, glancing at her shoes. "We should get you new shoes as well, Kotoko."

"I want to match with you! Let's check out the men's section, Irie-kun, it's all the rage to wear men's shoes these days! Do you think they have my size? Or, or! You can buy heels!"

"I am not buying heels!"


"Yuuki, don't wear that shirt. Kotoko's stepped all over it, it's covered in germs."

Yuuki frowns at his brother. "Obviously I wouldn't wear it right away," he says, glancing back to his novel. He's too comfortable on the couch, engrossed in his book. "I'd have to wash it first, since it's from the store."

He blinks at Yuuki.

Kotoko falls over, laughing. "Even Yuuki knows better than you, Irie-kun! You've switched places with me!"