The next day was a Saturday, a day usually reserved for Wakana's own meticulous work in his studio or quiet self-study.
Today, however, was dedicated entirely to a certain enthusiastic girl and a certain red dress.
Wakana had spent the morning cleaning his room and the hallway leading up to it.
And just at the right moment, the doorbell rang precisely at the arranged time.
He took a calming breath and opened the door.
Marin Kitagawa stood there, dressed in a plaid long-sleeved shirt tied at the waist, denim shorts, and long black socks that reached her knees.
She was holding a backpack, and her expression was pure excitement
"Gojo-kun! Ready to get to work?" she chirped, instantly brightening the doorway.
"Kitagawa-san. Of course, come in," Wakana replied, stepping aside. "Welcome to my home."
Marin took off her shoes in the genkan and immediately looked up, her eyes wide as she took in the traditional but meticulously maintained interior.
The entrance hall was far more spacious than she expected, blending old-world Japanese architecture with unexpected modern touches, like sleek, recessed lighting and polished wood floors that stretched endlessly.
"Wow," Marin breathed out, a genuine note of awe in her voice. "Your house is quite big, Gojo-kun! I knew you lived in a fancy place, but this is huge! And so cool."
Wakana felt a flicker of pride.
He hadn't just lived here; the sleek, modern feel she was reacting to was largely thanks to the expansion and renovation he had commissioned using his own accumulated savings from design work over the past couple of years.
He had wanted the house to honor his family's past while also reflecting his own modern tastes.
"Thank you," he said, accepting the praise gratefully. "We've done a bit of expansion recently."
"It shows!" Marin paused, looking down the long hallway. "Is anyone else home? Like your grandpa?"
Wakana smiled. "No, not right now. It's just me for the weekends."
He offered no further explanation.
His grandfather often went to stay with his aunt during the weekends, and there was no need to go into the details of his parents' absences.
Marin simply accepted this. "Perfect! Lead the way, Gojo-kun!"
She didn't wait long.
Following Wakana's lead, she was quickly making her way up the main staircase.
"Which one is your room?" she asked, peeking into the various sliding doors they passed.
"It's the one at the end of the hall," Wakana directed, trying to keep his pace even.
Marin reached the door first, slid it open, and strode right in, making herself completely at home in a single, confident motion.
Wakana's room was indeed large and modern, spacious enough to easily accommodate the king-sized bed tucked against the far wall and a dedicated work area near the window.
But what immediately captured Marin's attention were the walls.
Unlike regular teenage rooms, these weren't covered in posters or memorabilia; they were covered in a fascinating, chaotic tapestry of hand-drawn designs.
Detailed sketches of suits, intricate evening gowns, sportswear concepts, and abstract textile patterns were pinned up everywhere, filling the space with creative energy.
"Oh my God, Gojo-kun," Marin gasped, walking straight to the wall and running a reverent finger along a pen sketch of a dramatic, high-fashion winter coat.
"Wow, did you make these? All of it looks so detailed! You're amazing, Gojo-kun!"
Wakana felt his cheeks warm, not with embarrassment, but with honest gratification.
It was one thing to be praised for a finished commission; it was another to be praised for the raw, chaotic overflow of his personal passion.
"Yes, thank you, Kitagawa-san," he replied, closing the door behind him. "They're just ideas I'm sketching out."
"Just ideas? These are incredible!" She turned back to him, her eyes shining with renewed purpose. "This makes me even more excited for the Mirajane dress! You're definitely the right person for the job."
She rummaged through her backpack, pulling out a bright, yellow retractable tape measure and a small, leather-bound notebook.
"So, shall we start the measurements now or later?" Wakana asked, trying to sound professional and efficient.
"Let's do it now!" she declared, tossing the measuring tape to him.
Wakana caught the tape in one hand. As he did, the familiar weight of the tool immediately brought his mind back to the technical requirements of the task, and one very crucial realization.
He looked up at Marin, his eyes widening slightly. He swallowed hard, the professional focus he had cultivated since childhood beginning to falter a little.
Marin noticed his hesitation immediately. "Hm? What's wrong, Gojo-kun?"
Wakana cleared his throat, pushing down the immediate surge of panic.
He forced himself to recall the necessary procedure as a designer, not as a teenage boy.
"Kitagawa-san, in order to get truly accurate measurements for a tailored garment, especially one like Mirajane's dress, which is very fitted in the body, you need to wear as little as possible," he explained, avoiding her gaze and focusing intently on the end of the measuring tape. "Ideally, to ensure a perfect fit, you should undress and only wear underwear."
He quickly added a professional out, just in case she was uncomfortable. "If you want, I can introduce you to women that—"
Marin cut him off with a wave of her hand and a laugh. "Oh, is that it? I already knew that!"
Wakana blinked, momentarily speechless.
He should have expected her preparedness.
"Don't worry, I came prepared," Marin continued, a triumphant glint flashing in her eyes.
Once again, she started to slowly undress, but this time she was faster and more confident than in the Handicraft Clubroom.
"I bought a bikini swimsuit for the first time before coming here," she announced.
She quickly removed her plaid long sleeves and denim shorts.
The clothes fell to the floor, revealing a stunning sight: a black bikini with vivid yellow flower prints on it.
This time, Wakana was more prepared for the sight of skin, and the reflexive, full-body combustion of embarrassment he experienced yesterday didn't hit him.
He was aware of the visual, but his designer brain was already trying to analyze the form, the curves, and how the garment would drape.
But then the environment pressed in on him. ]
A teenage boy.
A girl wearing only a bikini.
All alone in his large, modern bedroom with a king-sized bed nearby.
The knowledge hit him as a completely different kind of feeling in his heart, a potent, ambiguous cocktail of biological awareness and overwhelming intimacy.
He couldn't help but fall into a trance for a while, his focus fixating on the confident, beautiful figure in front of him, tracing the lines of the swimsuit against her skin.
Marin noticed this.
Even with all her boldness, being watched in such an intimate state, in a strange boy's room, was too much.
Her confidence began to crumble, and her cheeks started to turn a delicate shade of pink.
"Umm… Gojo-kun… If you stare too much, I might get too embarrassed to continue."
Her voice got more and more silent as she spoke, trailing off into a nervous whisper.
Snapping out of his trance, Wakana shook his head, instantly horrified at his lack of professionalism.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to be so rude!" he apologized, his bow so deep that his chin nearly hit his chest.
"It's okay. Don't worry," Marin mumbled, trying to hide her face behind a loose strand of hair.
Wakana inwardly criticized himself, his shame now replacing the earlier hormonal spike.
What the hell was wrong with him today?
It wasn't like he had never seen a girl in a bikini up close before.
He was a real bona fide designer, and his work required him to study human anatomy and form constantly.
He had seen models, sketches, and professional fittings.
However, for some reason, when it came to the girl in front of him, he seemingly always lost his composure.
With a swift, almost aggressive decision coming into his mind, he raised his hand and brought it down sharply across his own cheek.
Slap!
The loud, sharp sound echoed in the large room.
"E-eh?! Why did you do that, Gojo-kun?!" Marin cried out, completely taken aback.
Wakana's cheek was already reddening, but his eyes were now razor-focused.
"Don't worry, that's just a personal punishment," he stated firmly. "Also, to help me lock in and focus. I will be strictly professional from this point on."
Marin stared at the handsome boy's reddening face in front of her, completely surprised by his sheer intensity and self-discipline.
"I-I see…" She looked away, a curious expression settling on her face, and muttered so softly only she could hear, "It really wasn't a big deal, though, as long as it was you."
...
Wakana stood tall, the stinging sensation on his cheek the only reminder of his earlier lapse.
He was now operating on pure adrenaline and professionalism, just like a machine.
"Well then, shall we begin?" he asked, his voice steady.
"Okay~!" Marin replied, quickly regaining her composure, trusting his newly adopted seriousness.
Wakana grabbed the measuring tape and held it over Marin's head. "First, I'll start by measuring your Head Circumference.
This is essential for drafting accurate wigs and hood patterns.
"Mhm," Marin agreed, holding still.
He stepped closer in front of her, closer than he had ever done before.
The scent of her shampoo and the faint, sweet perfume she wore filled his nostrils, but he ignored it.
Wakana held the measuring tape and wrapped it carefully above her eyebrows, keeping the tape level.
As he did this, Marin stared at his completely focused face in silence.
'He looks completely serious,' she thought to herself. 'He really is doing his best.'
Thinking of this, a small smile slowly crept up to Marin Kitagawa's face.
"Hm?" Wakana muttered, his eyes detecting the slight shift in her expression.
Being in close proximity to the girl's face, he quickly noticed the gentle curve of her lips and locked eyes with the girl in front of him.
The two stared at each other, the space between them suddenly filled with an intense, silent connection.