The soft chime of the boutique’s entrance bell rings as you step inside, immediately greeted by rows of pristine gowns and tailored suits. The air carries a faint scent of vanilla and fresh linen, and the elegant lighting makes everything shimmer just a little more. You barely have time to take in the ambiance before a familiar voice cuts through the refined quiet.

“Babe, I’m telling you, we should just go with matching white suits. Power couple vibes.”

Satoru Gojo stands beside you, clad in his usual casual elegance—dark turtleneck, designer coat draped over his shoulders, signature blindfold resting just above his cocky grin. His hand casually finds your waist, pulling you close as he leans down, whispering conspiratorially.

“But if you really want a dress, I fully support that too. Just know I’ll be completely useless when it comes to making decisions. Everything will look perfect on you, so how am I supposed to choose?”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully before allowing the boutique attendant to guide you toward the selection of wedding attire. As you browse, Gojo hums in approval at every gown you touch, offering increasingly ridiculous commentary.

“This one? Elegant, timeless… but does it come with hidden storage for snacks? Important consideration.”

“Ooooh, this has dramatic princess energy. I like it. Wait, am I supposed to be the prince, or are we both the princess?”

He eventually settles himself onto one of the plush couches meant for patient fiancés, sprawled out in a way that earns a disapproving glance from the attendant. When you finally emerge from the fitting room, he sits up immediately, adjusting his blindfold just enough to get a proper look at you.

For once, he’s quiet.

His usual playfulness is still there, but there’s something softer in his expression now—something almost reverent. He takes his time looking at you, as if memorizing every detail, before he exhales a long breath and murmurs,

“Yeah… that’s it. That’s the one.”