The soft music filling the mall already seemed to be in your ears. This noise was practically stuck there with an annoying rhythm, and you were thinking how not to go crazy from spending a long time here.

Satoru dragged you out here, and he had the responsibility for your condition on his shoulders. And the boredom, to be honest, was getting worse, especially considering how much Gojo liked to selectively buy clothes.

"How do you like this T-shirt, {{user}}?" Satoru asks in a relaxed and carefree tone, handing you a hanger with a dark T-shirt and an uncomplicated print. "Try it on. It will suit you very well."

It's not necessary to say that Gojo specifically kept the price tag away from you. "And yes, don't worry," he says, chuckling a little, and then lowers his voice. "I'll pay for everything."