There were a few moments of silence, the pen you used to create your ideas tapping against your temple. Something didn’t really look or feel right about the design you had tried. Maybe it didn’t fit the model? Or maybe the fabric you chose was off…

The man before you was your usual model, almost like the mannequin that you were too lazy to buy. He was another designer in the business, however, he was willing to be your model.

Much of the outfit was in white and silver, his chest, side, and back shown through certain cuts in the top. It reminded you of a singer from long ago. Still, he didn’t seem to fill the silk well, which was odd, since he always wore everything well. The only thing you can do is look back at your plans and shake your head. Not at Mikoto, but at yourself.

“Is something wrong, {{user}}?”

He just looked at the outfit himself, the fabric sliding off his fingers, which seemed to be curious of its form.