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When it comes to shopping, women have always been more enthusiastic, and few men can be more enthusiastic and motivated than them.

But at this moment, Hipper was holding a heavy paper bag in both hands, his knuckles were red from being squeezed, and the initial expectation on his face was gone, only numbness remained.

She couldn't help but secretly regret it: Why didn't she think more about it? From the moment she opened the closet full of strange clothes, from the moment Gojo Satoru took the initiative to suggest going shopping, she should have known that things would never be so simple. Her current shambles were actually a sign of things to come.

Running fast in high heels is far less exhausting than wandering around the mall right now.

Sitting in the waiting area, Hipper stood out among a group of men around him who were also carrying shopping bags and looking tired.

A mountain of paper bags lay at her feet, the straps pinching her fingertips until they hurt. She simply sat with her legs wide apart, like a man with uninhibited grace. Pressing her hand to her swollen forehead, she began to reflect: Had their roles on the date been reversed from the start?

"Hippo~"

A clear and cheerful call came from the front. Hipper could imagine the other person's condition without looking up - eye-catching white hair, an exceptional height that stood out in the crowd, and a childlike face that made passers-by turn their heads frequently.

Now, she was pinching the spaghetti straps of a slip dress, waving it towards her in the waiting area like a treasure, and said cheerfully, "This one looks great! Try it on!"

It is rare to find a man who is so proactive and enthusiastic in picking clothes for his girlfriend, let alone a handsome guy with amazing looks.

This scene instantly attracted the attention of all the women in the store - no matter they were customers who were picking out items or salesgirls standing by the shelves, they couldn't help but stop what they were doing, and cast curious and envious glances in this direction, either openly or secretly. Even the air seemed to be filled with tiny exclamations.

“…”

Gojo Satoru never cares about other people's expressions when doing things, and always acts according to his own will. The surrounding environment and other people's opinions seem to be non-existent to him.

He lives by the rules he sets for himself, and only cares about following his heart and moving forward. His reckless focus is a rare existence among billions in today's Japanese society, which values ​​tacit understanding and the opinions of those around it.

It is no exaggeration to say that he is one in a billion - after all, the population of the entire country is less than 200 million, and it is impossible to find a second person like him.

It’s just that… those shining advantages in people are like the other side of a double-edged sword. Often, in certain situations, they will quietly turn around and reveal their not-so-pleasing appearance, and become "disadvantages" that cause people headaches.

Just like now, Gojo Satoru's reckless and unrestrained nature, in this endless shopping, has become the "culprit" that made Hipper so tired that he couldn't straighten his back.

“all in…”

Hipper's voice seemed drained of all its strength, floating lightly in the air. She didn't even bother to raise her hands, only lifting her eyelids and making a weak, empty grabbing motion in his direction, not even bothering to straighten her fingertips—the meaning couldn't be more obvious: take everything he liked, and don't ask any more questions.

"Are you hungry?" She handed the chosen skirt to the salesperson, and then her tone, which had been a little excited when she tilted her head, lowered a little, and she simply instructed, "Pack up and check out."

He turned around and walked quickly towards Hipper. As soon as he stopped, the smile in his voice spread like ripples on the water: "I booked a table half an hour ago. You can't believe you've waited until now to complain of hunger..."

The man half-knelt in front of Hipper and gently lifted her forehead with his palm. "When did you become so patient, huh?"

The girl half-opened her hazy eyes, glanced at him lazily, and complained weakly: "Why are you still so energetic? Aren't our energy consumption the same?"

Same? How could it be the same? He was the one who took the initiative. But… His gaze fell on Hipper's eyes, and he silently swallowed his words when he remembered her moist eyes last night.

Well, he didn't expect that Hipper could cry so much. Shedding so many tears must be very exhausting.

"Young people must keep up this energy." He let go of her hand and lifted Hipper's long hair that was hanging on the ground behind her. "We'll go eat soon." After that, he picked up the shopping paper bags scattered on the side one by one, piled them in his arms, stood up and walked to the checkout counter to pay.

Before leaving, she looked back at the person still sitting there and reminded him, "Girls shouldn't sit like this—be more elegant. You're wearing a short skirt today."

“…”

No, she was too tired to worry about her image anymore.

But she obeyed, subconsciously pressing her legs together, leaning back and closing her eyes to rest, waiting for him to finish paying and go eat together. She silently calculated how much carbohydrates she would need to eat to make up for the loss of last night's consumption and today's.

If you were to stop to eat during a team battle at night because you were too hungry, that would be too unbecoming.

"Sorry for the wait~"

The man, covered in shopping bags, still managed to free his arms to hug Hipper tightly. While the people around him marveled at his incredible arm strength, Gojo Satoru half-pushed, half-shoved her out of the store.

"Are you completely uninterested in shopping? I'm surprised you don't have any motivation at all." Hipper frowned at the sharp edges of the bag and pushed him away in disgust. "Do I need to go out to shop? Just place the order directly."

Hearing this answer, he felt it was a strange answer - it was surprising that she cared so much about her image and didn't actually go out to buy clothes herself. He couldn't help but ask, "Who buys your clothes then?"

Did Gojo Satoru send you any clothes? This was what he wanted to ask, but it was too blunt.

This question is quite roundabout.

The girl turned her face in his arms and glanced at him sideways, obviously seeing through his implication.

"The intelligent system will automatically place orders based on my style, matching my outfits to my mood and schedule every day without me having to spend any more time." She paused, her tone a touch of nonchalant teasing. "Do you need it? If so, I can write you a program so you don't have to worry about it all the time."

When it comes to saving time, Schipper is always an expert.

"Oh, I forgot. You're a busy man, so you don't really need to wear anything other than your uniform, haha."

After teasing him, she didn't forget to add a stinging sarcasm, even going so far as to press her cheek against his chest, tilting her head back and sticking her tongue out at him, dragging out her tone softly and with a hint of provocation: "Hey~ Teacher?"

The blue eyes behind the sunglasses looked at her quietly, without refutation or blame. After a two-second silence, he made a decision without questioning: "Wear a bunny girl tonight."

The girl leaning on his chest suddenly stiffened and immediately broke free from his embrace. Gojo Satoru followed her strength and loosened his grip first, allowing her to step back a few steps.

"Who, who would wear such shameless clothes!" She hurriedly covered her face, afraid that passers-by would catch a glimpse of her burning ears and cheeks, and her voice trembled with anger.

"Well, then let's wear a maid outfit." He completely ignored Hipper's rebuttal - no matter how stubborn she was, she would always wear it obediently in the end.

Well, it’s okay if she’s not nice, he will put it on her.

The girl bit her lower lip secretly. When she looked up at him, there was still shame and anger in her eyes. She lowered her voice very softly: "Shameless."

"Yeah, we're here." Gojo Satoru replied casually, as if he hadn't heard the scolding. He put his arm around Hipper's waist and led her into the restaurant. As he passed the waiter, he took the menu and stuffed it directly into her hand. He turned and walked to the bag storage area to put the shopping bags.

The waiter led her to her reserved table, and once she was seated, Hipper flipped open the menu. She tapped her pen across the paper without hesitation—she had already memorized their tastes and preferences, and had already decided what to order.

The pen sketched smoothly on the menu, but he stopped after a minute, looked up at the waiter and said, "Add two orders of rice and one order of ice cream."

But in my heart, I know clearly: the rice is for me, so I have to have enough of it; the ice cream is for the children, so I have to coax them.

The waiter was a man of sharp eyes and careful observation. He noticed that Hipper didn't seem to like to talk much, so after she placed her order, he just whispered, "Okay, please wait," and quietly left with the menu.

Not long after, he came over quietly with the teapot and filled her tea. He didn't say a word the whole time, just nodded slightly, and then left quietly again.

She always preferred the quiet and tactful type; even if they were slow to react and clumsy, they were still better than the noisy ones. She couldn't help but compare herself to him: if only her two classmates could be like this waiter, with a little more tact and obedience.

The man returned with two saucers, and Hipper couldn't help but turn her head to take a closer look. Could this guy, who couldn't handle spicy food at all, really make a sauce? Did he just scoop a little of everything on the counter and mix it all together?

"My memory is pretty good." Seeing through her thoughts, he pushed one of the dipping sauces with red oil to her hand, and said with a hint of pride, "I wrote down all the sauces you made last night."

The girl raised her hand and gently covered the corner of her lips with her fingertips, looking up at the man sitting across from her. Just then, the waiter came over with an ice cream and was about to offer it to her. But Hipper waved her finger, pointing at the man opposite her: "For him." After a brief pause, she added, "Send another one back in half an hour, thank you."

It was calculated perfectly—at the time when he would most likely want another one, not a minute more, not a second less.

Gojo Satoru took the ice cream handed to him by the waiter and couldn't wait to scoop a spoonful into his mouth. The cool and sweet taste melted on his tongue. He looked up at Hipper with a smile on his face: "You guessed it again?"

He chose this shop not only because of the authentic taste, but also because of the online reviews praising their ice cream. Before entering the store, he was thinking about ordering two to try.

Unexpectedly, Hipper not only arranged everything for him, but also calculated the time for the second team to come on to the exact spot... He felt a subtle sense of comfort in his heart, and asked again: "Did you go and read the comments on purpose?" He checked these things specifically for him and arranged all the details perfectly.

They both quietly considered each other's needs, arrangements tailored to each other's preferences like an unspoken understanding, quietly woven into every moment of their time together. They were so compatible, so perfectly compatible, even the air was filled with a familiarity that no one else could intrude upon—speaking of which, had they truly never considered taking the next step and becoming husband and wife?

Upon hearing this, the girl across from him subconsciously moved her fingertips upwards, almost covering half of her face. She also turned her head slightly away, deliberately avoiding his sight. She lowered her voice and said, "I just saw it while looking at the menu."

Just a menu? Is that really all? A knowing smile flashed across his face, but he didn't press the issue further. Some things should be left to the point; being too serious would only make things less interesting. For a long-term relationship, you always have to leave some room for maneuver.

Pushing her to the point where she can no longer bear it—this kind of thing—is unnecessary except when you are in bed and you have to make her eyes red and beg for mercy.

After all, on ordinary days, it is much more interesting to see her indulgent expression with a bit of awkwardness, or her ears turning red when her true feelings are touched upon, rather than her tense look when she is pushed to the limit.