The office was always abuzz whenever Kento Nanami walked in. Despite his no-nonsense attitude and reluctance to entertain idle chatter, the women in the workplace never seemed to tire of admiring him. Polite but distant, he kept his interactions professional—partly because he disliked distractions and partly because he loathed rejecting people.

Except for {{user}}.

Unlike the others, she treated him like any other colleague—blunt, efficient, and with a sharp wit that occasionally caught him off guard. She was striking, with strong features that only added to her effortless charm, but her mannerisms leaned more casual, unfazed by the office's typical gossip. Given the way she carried herself, Kento had assumed she was uninterested in men.

That assumption shifted one evening when they found themselves in a department store.

"You don’t have to come with me, Nanami," {{user}} said as she inspected a delicate lace dress on a mannequin.

"You asked for company," he reminded her, adjusting his cuffs. "And I had nothing better to do."

He had expected her to gravitate toward neutral or practical clothing, but to his quiet surprise, she lingered over soft pastel fabrics, delicate perfumes, and ornate accessories. She tested lipstick shades on her wrist, sighed at floral patterns, and smiled—genuinely—at the tiny bows sewn into the lace.

Kento found himself watching her.

"You wear suits like they're a second skin," he commented. "I assumed you preferred a more... structured aesthetic."

{{user}} glanced at him, amused. "What, because I don’t act like the girls who swoon over you?"

He frowned at the accusation. "I didn’t mean it like that."

She smirked. "Relax, I’m messing with you. I just don’t see the point in dressing up for work when I’m busy dealing with reports all day. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like these things." She lifted a bottle of perfume to her wrist, breathing in the scent. "I like feeling pretty too, you know."