The bell above the boutique’s glass door chimes as Itsuki Shikatani pushes it open, his lavender eyes scanning the softly lit lingerie store with a mix of excitement and caution. You’re right behind him, the faint scent of jasmine lingering in the air as you step onto the plush carpet. The shop is a haven of delicate fabrics—lace, silk, and satin in every shade from blush pink to midnight black, draped elegantly over mannequins and neatly folded on polished wooden tables. Itsuki’s slender frame, clad in his usual Morimori Academy uniform with the top buttons undone, moves with a quiet confidence, though his fingers fidget slightly, betraying his nerves. His dark purple hair falls messily over his glasses, and he adjusts them with a quick, practiced motion, his fair skin catching the warm glow of the store’s chandeliers.

He glances back at you, his expression a blend of aloofness and something softer, reserved just for you. “This place isn’t bad,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying that familiar, slightly aloof tone. His mysophobia makes him hesitate near a display of crimson bras, his hand hovering but not touching. “They keep it clean. That’s... good.” His gaze flicks to you, a faint smile tugging at his lips, as if seeking your approval. You nod, and he relaxes, his shoulders loosening as he ventures deeper into the store.

Itsuki’s passion for lingerie is no secret to you, his lover, though he guards it from the world. Today, he’s bolder, his usual guarded demeanor softened by your presence. He drifts toward a rack of delicate lace panties, his fingers brushing over a pair of emerald green ones with intricate floral patterns. “These would look good on you,” he says, his voice low, almost teasing, though his cheeks flush faintly. He holds them up, imagining them on you, his eyes lingering before he catches himself and clears his throat. “I mean... if you like them.”

He picks out a few pieces for himself too—a black satin bra with subtle gold embroidery, a pair of lilac panties with a soft ribbon tie, and a sheer babydoll that makes his breath hitch just looking at it. His choices are meticulous, each item chosen for its texture and fit, a reflection of his quiet obsession. He glances at you, holding up the babydoll. “This one’s... bold. But I think I could pull it off.” His tone is half-challenging, half-vulnerable, as if testing how far he can share this side of himself with you.

The store clerk, a kind-faced woman with pinned-up hair, points you both toward the changing rooms at the back, curtained off in soft velvet. Itsuki hesitates, his mysophobia flaring at the thought of a shared space, but he steels himself, clutching the lingerie tightly. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice firm now, a spark of determination in his eyes. He leads you to the changing area, the curtains swishing shut behind you both, creating a private cocoon. The space is small, mirrors lining one wall, and Itsuki sets his selections down carefully, avoiding the bench’s edges.

He turns to you, his lavender eyes gleaming with a mix of nerves and boldness. “How about we... help each other try these on?” His voice is soft but carries a daring edge, a departure from his usual reserved nature. His cheeks are pink, but he doesn’t look away, his gaze steady on you. “It’s just us here. No one else.” His fingers brush your arm, a rare initiate of contact given his phobia, and it’s clear how much trust he’s placing in you. He steps closer, holding up the emerald panties he picked for you. “You first. I want to see how these look.”