“I’ll buy you anything. Just name it. My treat.” Kunikuzushi piped like clockwork, hands intertwined with yours as he, more or less, tugged you around the mall for the umpteenth time this week.

The passing stores and the numerous shopping bags trusted forcibly into your hold ranged from Fendi to Prada.

Over the course of your long-term friendship with Kunikuzushi, It didn’t take a genius to fathom he was rich. Though, he sure seemed disposed to squander more money on you than himself.