Nanami's breakfast couldn't go to waste, so before leaving the house, it had to be eaten as lunch.
Since the amount wasn't enough for two people, Utaha still ate takeout.
After that, Akira and Utaha left the house.
And then he came to understand a truth: never believe a woman goes into a mall just to buy one thing.
Oh, not that they're lying—at the beginning, their goal might genuinely be a specific item, like a nightgown.
But once inside, their attention gets swept away by all sorts of other things: clothes, shoes, handbags, hats, scarves, plushies, nail products, snacks, cosmetics, keychains, figurines, trinkets...
Then, based on their wallet and mood, they decide how long they'll browse and how many stores to hit.
Akira never imagined that his idle wish to stroll through a mall with a girl would come true in such a bizarre way—and that their interactions would so closely resemble their "playtime" from the past.
Except Utaha didn't let him pay.
That, in fact, wasn't a good thing.
Back then, Akira could enjoy the thrill of spending freely on women, receiving some half-hearted flirting in return.
Though it was all fake and hollow, it at least passed the time and relieved boredom.
Now that he wasn't allowed to spend money, he'd been reduced to a pure shopping companion.
Which was… painful.
It wasn't too bad when Utaha actually bought something.
Even if he was just a "does this look good?" opinion machine—even if some sales clerks, noticing the age difference and seeing Utaha pay, sent them strange, subtle looks—it still felt like there was some payoff.
What really tortured him was when they spent all that time browsing and trying things on, only for her to leave empty-handed.
The boredom of waiting was already unbearable. But to have all that time thrown away amounted to psychological devastation for any man.
Watching Utaha set down a black handbag and prepare to leave, he couldn't help but rub his temples. "Not buying it again?"
"It's nice, but too expensive," Utaha replied, turning with a helpless shrug.
"Even when I'm doing well financially, I don't randomly buy luxury goods—especially now that my royalties will shrink. I have to be more frugal."
"How about I buy it for you?"
"No."
"What if I say buying it is me repaying a debt to you?"
"…Huh?"
That weird reasoning left Utaha confused.
Akira was confused too—and felt a little pathetic. But the pain was real. If spending money could ease it, it'd be totally worth it.
Sometimes, reality really is just that magical.
He did have the option to leave, but it felt wrong to keep urging a girl to hurry while she was enjoying shopping—or worse, to just walk away. He didn't want to be that guy.
Utaha thought for a moment, then seemed to get it. Waving a finger, she said, "If you can't even be patient while shopping with a girl, that won't do, Mr. Ogiwara."
"But I'm shopping with a mistress."
"Even if it's a mistress—oh, I see. So Mr. Ogiwara is the type who gets impatient with mistresses too. I must be too selfish, making trouble for you."
Akira shook his head. "No, that's not it."
"Then what is it?" Utaha tilted her head.
Akira picked up the black handbag, went to the counter, paid for it cleanly, returned, and tossed it into Utaha's arms with a long sigh.
Finally, relief.
Looking at Akira's satisfied expression, Utaha gave him a complicated look.
"So this is what it means to be uncomfortable not spending money? Is this how all rich people behave?"
"It's not about being spoiled," Akira explained, using an analogy. "Let's say I'm your kept man."
Utaha perked up slightly. "Okay…"
"As your kept man, I say I want something tasty to eat. So you take me to a street full of snacks."
"Alright."
"But then, I just sniff around and look without buying anything—maybe try some free samples at promotional booths, and when I do buy something, I pay for it myself. How would you feel?"
"…"
Seeing the dawning understanding in Utaha's expression, Akira added,
"Wouldn't you feel bored and embarrassed? Like you'd want to just throw cash at me and shove everything into my mouth?"
Utaha completely got it. She slapped a hand to her forehead and didn't put it down for a long time.
"But this isn't cheap street food…" she started, then paused halfway, realizing it herself.
"Okay, maybe in the eyes of someone like you… there's not much difference."
Akira clapped lightly, praising her comprehension.
Utaha exhaled slowly and finally lowered her hand.
Gently swinging the bag, she said,
"Still, I can't accept this. I know Mr. Ogiwara won't ask for a refund, so I'll give it to Miss Aoyama when we get back and say it's a gift from you."
Akira had no objections—and it served as a good reminder.
Yesterday, the "puppy" had rushed back home late at night, only for him to go out sneaking around.
While it wasn't exactly a betrayal, buying a gift to make up for it seemed like a decent idea.
Still, that was one matter—this mistress stuff was another.
Akira rubbed his chin and said,
"As a mistress, you don't sleep with me, and you don't act all flirty to make me feel like a sugar daddy. That puts me in a tough spot, Miss Kasumigaoka."
That finally pushed Utaha to retort, less polite than usual, "And as a man, are you saying you like being drained for money by your mistress?"
Akira also found it strange.
But thinking back on his old "playboy" days, he realized that aside from bedroom activities and fake affection, spending money was the only real fun part.
So he said, "Just imagine I'm your kept man again."
Utaha thought about it—and the more she thought, the weirder it felt.
It really was weird. Spending money is supposed to be "giving," and receiving a gift is "getting."
But somehow in this special mistress dynamic, spending money felt good, and accepting something felt like a compromise.
She looked at Akira's face again and noticed his expression was just as strange.
She realized he wasn't messing with her—he was genuinely caught in the same twisted logic.
In the brightly lit, bustling mall, the two of them stared at each other, doubting their own sanity—and wondering if the world itself was wrong.
After a moment of hesitation, Utaha stepped closer, paused again, then reached out and clung to Akira's arm.
"Let's go. You bought me something… Let's look at pet supplies and nightgowns."
She might've seemed like she was pretending to be modest after taking advantage, but this really was her compromise.
She decided to stop shopping after this and never come to the mall with Akira again. No matter how she looked at it, the whole thing was too bizarre.
Seeing proud Utaha lower her head, take his arm, and act like a real mistress, Akira was pleased—yet felt a guilty kind of joy at being the "sugar daddy."
The whole thing was just… strange.
This was the biggest department store near where they lived. Akira knew the layout well enough and led Utaha to the pet supply section.
After helping her choose snacks their cats would like, they headed to the nightgown section.
Under normal circumstances, this would be a guaranteed fanservice scenario.
However, for whatever reason, there was no such opportunity this time.
Utaha quickly picked out a black nightgown, checked the size and fabric, and without even trying it on, asked the clerk to wrap it up.
"Alright, let's go." She was as eager to leave as a man pained by shopping and spending money.
Whereas Akira now acted like a shopaholic woman, saying, "No rush, no rush. Let's keep looking—help me pick a gift for little Nanami."
Utaha lifted the bag from earlier and shot him a look that clearly said, Isn't this enough?
"That one's for you. It wouldn't suit her," Akira replied. "Pick something more modest in style. But not in price."
Utaha thought of Nanami's image and agreed it wouldn't suit her. Since the gift wasn't for her, she felt much more relaxed this time.
Still...
"Making your mistress pick a gift for another woman—isn't that going a bit far, Mr. Ogiwara?"
Akira gave her a look. "Think about who made the food you've been eating at my place."
That immediately erased Utaha's tiny grudge.
Following Akira's requirements and Nanami's style, Utaha took the task seriously.
They visited every handbag store in the mall. Akira was nearly exhausted, but driven by a faint sense of guilt, he managed to hold out.
In the end, Utaha chose a large white shoulder bag—simple in appearance, but extremely pricey.
It looked as if she had poured all her pent-up shopping frustration into that one purchase.
During this extended battle, time passed. Nanami finished her training, and Akira received her call.
"Mr. Ogiwara, I'm back at Sakurasou. Did you help me move?"
Someone lightly scratched his palm.
He glanced at the smiling Utaha beside him and replied in his usual tone,
"Yeah. Rather than wasting time and energy on something a bit of money can solve, use that effort for what really matters. I didn't give you that card for decoration."
"I understand. Um… actually, I was thinking of bringing another cat. Would that be okay?"
Hearing that, Akira instantly perked up.
"Of course. That's great. If I remember right, Sakurasou has several stray cats, right? Bring as many as you want—bring them all if you can."
Utaha's eyes also lit up. She'd long thought their little paradise lacked a few angels. If they could add some more, all the better.
As long as Akira didn't raise the rent.
She scratched his palm again—not flirtatiously, but as a full-on hint.
Akira grabbed her hand, finally getting her to stop. As much as he wanted a house full of cats, they weren't Nanami's to give—some negotiation would be required.
Once the call ended, he looked at Utaha and chuckled. "Are you happy now?"
Then he noticed her face was slightly flushed.
Akira let go of her hand. But the soft, boneless feeling lingered in his mind—he was a little reluctant to let go.
He didn't often hold hands.
Usually, he skipped straight to bed.
Hand-holding felt almost… pure.
"Alright, let's go back."
This time, he really intended to leave—but then Utaha turned back into a normal woman.
"Since we're here, don't you want to buy something too, Mr. Ogiwara?"
Looking a bit worn out, he replied, "I've got enough clothes."
"Then buy something else. Men need more than just clothes."
And just like that, she pulled him into a tie shop.
Except for work, Akira rarely wore ties—he didn't like anything restrictive around his neck.
But when Utaha tied the tie on him herself, with those gentle movements and her still-blushing face, he suddenly felt it wasn't so bad.
Yeah, kind of like a wife tying her husband's tie before he heads to work.
Only after starting did Utaha realize how suggestive it was—but since she'd already begun, she couldn't stop.
She tied it loosely, adjusted his collar gently, and examined him with mock seriousness. "Not bad. Let's go with this one."
Akira had no objections. He might never wear it, but the feeling from earlier was worth the price.
And once again, Utaha was the one who paid.
Seeing the smug look of revenge on her face, Akira laughed and accepted the gift without hesitation.
"Spending money on a man—you're not a very proper mistress, are you?"
"Giving back a little can encourage a man to give even more, can't it?"
"True. So, what else do you want?"
"Nothing. I want to go back and see the new cat Miss Aoyama brought."
"Then that cat's mine tonight."
"You jerk! At least let the cat decide! You're not allowed to use cat treats as a bribe!"
"Hey, the cat's in my house, eating treats I paid for. Sounds like you're being unreasonable..."
Bantering like this, saying mundane things on their way home, the man and woman walked arm-in-arm into the sunlight outside the mall.
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