Emi Aoyama's heart fluttered as she tucked the last of her color-coded notes back into her bag. Satori's genuine interest in her study techniques made her feel valued in a way few people ever had. His dark eyes caught the afternoon light streaming through the café windows, turning them almost amber as he leaned closer.

"These are impressive," he said, sliding her notes back across the table. His fingers brushed against hers, sending a tiny shock through her system. "Your visual approach makes complex theory actually digestible."

"Thanks," she mumbled, feeling her face warm at the compliment.

Satori checked his watch. "We've been here almost two hours. Want to walk around a bit? Clear our heads before diving back into studies?"

Emi nodded eagerly, grateful for the suggestion. Her brain felt stuffed with information and the lingering cream puff sugar was making her jittery. "That sounds perfect."

Outside, Mirai Central's shopping district sparkled in the afternoon sun. Chrome and glass storefronts reflected light in dazzling patterns across the wide pedestrian boulevard. Emi walked beside Satori, acutely aware of his tall presence next to her. His words from earlier kept replaying in her mind.

"That's what makes you special, Emi. In a world full of people looking to destroy, you want to heal."

No one had ever framed her abilities quite like that before. Natalia was always supportive, but even she sometimes let slip comments about how Emi would need protection in combat situations. Satori saw her healing as valuable in itself, not as a weakness to be compensated for.

She glanced up at him as they walked. He moved with an easy confidence that made everyone else on the street seem aimless by comparison. Next to him, she felt both small and somehow protected, like walking beside a mountain that had decided to keep her in its shadow.

"Something caught your eye?"

Emi's head snapped away, her cheeks burning. She'd been caught staring. "N-no, I was just thinking."

A display window pulled Emi's attention, stopping her mid-step. The boutique, "Elysian Threads," featured a stunning cocktail dress on a mannequin—deep blue with subtle silver accents that reminded her of stars. It was elegant without being ostentatious, the kind of piece that would make even Natalia turn her head in appreciation.

"That's beautiful," she murmured, mostly to herself, imagining how the fabric would flow around her if she twirled.

Satori stopped beside her, following her gaze. His lips curved into a slow smile that transformed his usually serious face. "Indulge me."

Before she could protest, he took her hand and pulled her toward the entrance. His grip was warm and firm, sending a jolt up her arm that made her breath catch. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh, the cool air-conditioned interior welcoming them into a world of luxury she rarely allowed herself to explore.

The boutique interior was all sleek lines and minimalist décor. The air was cool and smelled of something expensive, a mix of citrus perfume and the crisp scent of new fabric. A sales associate approached, but Satori waved her off with a subtle gesture that somehow commanded instant respect.

"I'll be her consultant today," he said with such authority that the woman simply nodded and retreated, as if he owned the place.

Emi gaped at him, heat flooding her cheeks. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Helping you find something that matches your potential," he replied, already scanning the racks with a discerning eye. He moved through the store with surprising confidence, pulling items and holding them up against her with the expertise of someone who'd been styling models for years.

"This blue brings out the sapphire in your hair," he commented, selecting a silky blouse that shimmered under the boutique's carefully positioned lighting. "And this cut would highlight your waist perfectly." He added a tailored blazer to his growing collection, the material so fine it looked like it might dissolve between her fingers.

"I can't afford these," Emi whispered, glancing anxiously at a price tag that contained more zeroes than her entire monthly allowance. She felt like an imposter among such finery.

"Who said anything about buying?" Satori winked, his expression mischievous in a way that made her stomach do somersaults. "We're just exploring possibilities. Though I might insist on one item if it's perfect."

Emi followed him around the store, fascinated by this unexpected side of him. For someone who projected such serious intensity, he clearly had an eye for fashion and color that rivaled even her own obsession with Hunter trends. They passed a display of accessories, and Satori paused, spotting a wide-brimmed straw hat. He plucked it from the mannequin and placed it on his own head at a jaunty angle.

"Shishishi!" He flashed a wide, impossibly charming grin. The intimidating predator vanished, replaced by someone so disarmingly dorky in an instant. "You think I should wear this to the Gala?"

A laugh bubbled up from Emi's chest, starting as a giggle and blossoming into full, unrestrained delight. The sight of this powerful, serious guy doing a spot-on Roody impression from 'Seven Seas Hunter' was so unexpected and dorky that she couldn't help it. Her heart did a little flip at the revelation that he knew anime references that most people would find obscure.

"Definitely," she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "You'd start a whole new fashion trend!"

As she laughed, her gaze drifted past Satori to the street outside. For a split second, she thought she saw someone in a dark hoodie and sunglasses duck behind a holographic advertisement display. Something about the figure seemed vaguely familiar—was that a flash of platinum blonde hair?—but before she could focus on it, Satori held up an emerald green blouse that caught the light beautifully, drawing her attention back inside.

"This one," he said decisively, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what he wanted. "You should try this on."

The garment was gorgeous—made of some silky material that flowed like water between her fingers. The deep green would complement her coloring perfectly, making her eyes pop and her skin glow. She accepted it with reverent hands, almost afraid to wrinkle the delicate fabric.

"O-okay," she agreed, allowing him to guide her toward the changing rooms.

The dressing area was unexpectedly luxurious, with soft lighting, plush carpet, and floor-to-ceiling mirrors that reflected the warm glow throughout the space. The attendant, a poised woman with impeccable makeup, showed Emi to a spacious room decorated with tasteful artwork and a cushioned bench. She hung the emerald blouse on a polished wooden hook before bowing slightly and leaving Emi alone with her thoughts.

Emi carefully removed her cream sweater, folding it neatly on the bench. She held up the emerald blouse, running her fingers over the fabric in appreciation. It looked even more beautiful up close, with intricate embroidery and subtle beading along the neckline that she hadn't noticed from the display. The material felt expensive against her skin, silky and substantial at the same time. She slipped it on over her head and adjusted it, a smile breaking across her face as she saw how perfectly it hugged her curves, the material clinging to her waist before flaring slightly at her hips in a way that made her feel instantly more sophisticated.

But there was a problem. The tiny zipper running up the back was impossible to reach on her own. She twisted and strained, contorting her arms at awkward angles behind her, trying to grasp the little metal tab, but her fingers kept falling short by mere centimeters. After several futile attempts that left her shoulders aching, she sighed in defeat, blowing a stray strand of blue hair from her flushed face.

Taking a deep breath that did little to calm her suddenly fluttering heart, she cracked open the changing room door and peeked out through the narrow opening, her sapphire hair falling across one eye.

"S-Satori-kun?" she whispered, her face already burning with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but... could you... help me with something?"

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