Chapter 4 – Mall Date Difficulty: Extreme

By Friday afternoon, I’d convinced myself that this wasn’t a big deal.

Just a practice date. Not real. Not romantic. Totally professional.

Which, apparently, is normal when you agree to be the fake boyfriend of a rich girl trying to escape an arranged marriage.

Then I realized I’d changed shirts three times and spent ten minutes arguing with my mirror about whether my hair looked “approachable” or “like I just woke up in a field.”

Spoiler: it was the field.

I glanced at the clock. 4:27 p.m. Yui said we’d meet at the mall entrance at 5:00.

That gave me thirty-three minutes to finish spiraling.

“Okay,” I muttered to my reflection. “It’s just Yui. We’ve talked. We’ve eaten lunch. We’ve survived Itsuki. You can handle—”

My phone buzzed.

Akiyama Yui: Don’t be late.

Akiyama Yui: Or wear your ‘tragic gamer’ jacket.

I stared at the screen. “She can sense what I’m wearing?”

I swapped jackets. Obviously.

By the time I left my apartment, my brain had officially turned into static. Every step toward the mall felt like a countdown to my own execution. Couples passed me holding hands, laughing, existing like it was normal. Meanwhile, I was trying to remember how to look “natural” while breathing.

I spent ten minutes trying to spot her. She’d said “in front of the fountain,” but there were like five fountains. I’d already circled the place twice and was starting to wonder if this was part of some elaborate test.

Then I saw her.

And my brain short-circuited.

She stood by the biggest fountain, scrolling through her phone.

White blouse tucked into a pale beige skirt that reached just above her knees, paired with a light cardigan that made her look—well, very not-high-school, and a small crossbody bag that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.

Her hair was down for once, soft and neat, catching the light just enough to look like it belonged in a shampoo commercial.

She looked… normal. But the kind of “normal” that made everyone else look like background characters.

And me? I was the idiot standing there with a convenience store drink and a wrinkled shirt.

I considered running away.

She looked up before I could.

“You’re late,” she said, walking over with that calm confidence only rich people and teachers have.

“I’m not. I’m five minutes early,” I said automatically.

She checked her phone. “Which means I’ve been waiting five minutes. Same thing.”

“That’s not—okay, sure. Logic checks out.”

Her eyes moved over my outfit, and I could feel the judgment radiating off her.

“You didn’t even iron your shirt?”

“I did,” I lied.

She gave me the kind of look that could silence a classroom. “You did not.”

“Alright,” I said, giving up. “I didn’t. But in my defense, the iron’s scared of me.”

She sighed, but her lips twitched slightly. “Fine. You pass for effort.”

“Effort’s generous.”

“Exactly.”

There was a short pause. She was staring at me like she was expecting something.

I stared back, because I had no idea what that something was.

Finally, she tilted her head. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to say it?”

“Say what?”

Her expression dropped. “You’re hopeless.”

She turned away, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You were supposed to compliment me, Haruto.”

I blinked. “...Right. Yeah. You look good.”

“Good?” she repeated.

“Like—uh—good good. Better than usual good.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, that came out wrong,” I said quickly. “You look... uh, nice. Like you belong in a fashion book. There. That’s the top-tier compliment.”

Her cheeks puffed slightly, probably trying not to smile. “You really have no idea how to talk to girls, do you?”

“Not ones who grade my compliments like essays.”

“Then consider this your practice assignment,” she said, adjusting her bag strap. “Lead the way.”

“Lead? Where?”

“You’re the one taking me out, remember?”

“I thought this was your idea.”

“It is,” she said with that infuriating calm again. “But it’s a practice date. You’re supposed to practice being the boyfriend. So—lead.”

I stared at her. “Yui, I’ve never even been in this mall before.”

She blinked. “You’re joking.”

“I buy everything from the convenience store near my apartment.”

“Unbelievable.” She sighed dramatically, muttering, “My ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t even know where the food court is.”

“Hey, we can start there,” I said. “Food court sounds romantic.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then it’s perfect for us.”

Her lips twitched again, and I counted that as a win.

We started walking, her heels clicking softly beside my sneakers. Somehow, even the way she walked made me look unprepared for existence.

We walked around the mall for a while.

And by “walked around,” I mean I confidently led Yui through three completely different corridors that somehow all ended at the same escalator.

“So,” she said after our third lap past the same bakery, “what’s the plan?”

“This is the plan,” I said confidently.

“You’re wandering.”

“I prefer the term ‘navigating intuitively.' "

“You’ve walked past that pretzel stand three times.”

“It might have a different personality each lap.”

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose like a disappointed teacher.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered.

Then suddenly she grabbed my arm.

“Okay,” she said. “New rule.”

“Huh—?”

“If you don’t have a plan,” she said, already dragging me forward, “I’ll make one.”

“Wait, Yui—slow down—!”

As the automatic doors slid open, a small voice somewhere nearby squeaked—

“Eek!”

I paused for half a second.

That voice sounded weirdly familiar.

But before I could think about it, Yui stopped moving.

We both looked up.

And immediately froze.

Rows of mannequins stared back at us.

Mannequins wearing swimsuits.

Bright bikinis. Sport swimsuits. Things made out of what looked like three pieces of string and confidence.

We were standing in the swimwear section.

“…This feels like a trap,” I said quietly.

“I picked the store at random,” Yui replied.

Her voice sounded normal.

But she was staring very intensely at a wall that definitely wasn’t interesting.

“…Yui.”

“Yes.”

“Are we standing in the swimsuit section?”

“…Yes.”

She quickly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned slightly away from the display like it had personally offended her.

Before we could retreat, a cheerful voice appeared behind us.

“Oh! Perfect timing!”

A store employee approached us with the enthusiastic energy of someone who absolutely loved her job.

“Looking for matching swimsuits today?” she asked brightly.

“We’re not—” I started.

Yui suddenly grabbed my sleeve.

“We’re browsing,” she said quickly.

Her voice? Calm.

Her ears? Red.

The clerk? She noticed immediately.

“Oh my,” she said with a grin. “Young couples are so shy these days.”

“We’re not a couple,” I said.

Yui squeezed my sleeve harder.

“…We’re practicing,” she muttered.

The clerk blinked. “Practicing?”

Yui looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

“For a date,” she added quietly.

The clerk’s smile widened slowly.

The kind of smile that meant she had just discovered something entertaining—and had no intention of letting it go.

Her eyes flicked between us.

Once. Twice.

Then she grinned

“Oh?” she said, drawing the word out a little too long. “That’s interesting.”

Her chin rested lightly on her hand as she leaned over the counter, studying us with the kind of curiosity normally reserved for rare zoo animals.

Or, you know… couples doing suspiciously couple-like things while pretending they weren’t a couple.

Which—hypothetically speaking—might describe our situation a little too well.

“Well then,” she continued, clapping her hands once, “there’s a perfect exercise for this.”

Yui blinked. “Exercise?”

“For couples,” the clerk said cheerfully.

“You pick a swimsuit for her.”

I nearly choked.

“I what?”

The clerk was already guiding us toward a rack.

“If you’re practicing being a boyfriend, you should learn what suits your girlfriend.”

Yui opened her mouth.

Then closed it again.

Her ears were still red.

“…Fine,” she muttered.

I turned to her. “Fine?”

“We’re already here,” she said quietly. “Leaving now would be embarrassing.”

“This is already embarrassing.”

“Just pick one.”

I stared at the rack of swimsuits.

There were too many options. Colors. Styles. Things that looked normal. Things that definitely weren’t.

“This one,” I said quickly, grabbing the first thing that looked safe.

The clerk examined it.

“A very modest choice,” she said with a grin.

Yui took it without looking at me.

“I’ll go try it.”

She disappeared behind the dressing room curtain.

The clerk leaned against the wall outside the changing rooms.

Then she turned to me.

“So,” the clerk said casually, “how did you two get together?”

My brain short-circuited.

“…That’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Well,” I said, “she asked me out.”

The clerk blinked. “She did?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said yes?”

I nodded.

She tilted her head. “Why?”

I thought about it for a moment.

“Well… she’s cute.”

The clerk smiled knowingly. “Of course she is.”

I shook my head. “No, I mean— not just that.”

I searched for the right words.

“It’s not the whole perfect cute-girl thing,” I said. “That part’s honestly kind of scary.”

The clerk laughed.

“But when she gets flustered, or when something doesn’t go the way she expected… she gets really serious about it.”

I shrugged.

“She tries so hard to keep everything together.”

I glanced toward the dressing room curtain.

“And when she actually smiles,” I added, “you can tell she really means it.”

The clerk’s expression softened.

“That’s the version of her I like.” I said.

Right then, the dressing room curtain slid open.

Yui stepped out.

She hadn’t changed.

She was still wearing the same clothes.

Her face, however, was completely red.

“…Haruto,” she said quietly.

“Yes?”

She grabbed my sleeve.

Hard.

“We’re leaving.”

Before I could respond, she dragged me straight toward the exit.

The clerk waved cheerfully behind us.

“Come back anytime, practice couple!”

I was starting to think this mall was actively trying to kill me.

Yui didn’t stop walking.

Actually, walking wasn’t the right word. She was moving with the kind of determination that suggested stopping was no longer an option.

“Yui,” I said for what was probably the fourth time.

Still nothing.

Her hand tightened around mine.

Not pulling this time.

Just… holding it.

I stopped resisting and followed along.

Whatever had happened back in the store had clearly short-circuited something in her brain.

We passed one fountain.

Then another.

At this point I was starting to suspect the mall designer had a personal attachment to fountains.

Finally, near the largest one, she stopped.

My hand was released immediately.

Yui stepped a short distance away before turning back to face me.

Her head was lowered, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor between us.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

“Yui?" I tried.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

Then she took a breath.

“…Haruto.”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated.

“I actua—”

A hand suddenly landed on her shoulder.

“Found ya.”

Yui froze.

Completely.

When she turned around, the shock on her face was so clear that even I could see it from where I stood.

And suddenly I had a very bad feeling about whatever was about to happen next.