Maybe It's Not So Bad

Aizawa couldn't believe he'd let Nemuri talk him into this.

Well, talk into was a generous way to put it.

In reality, she had pulled him from his classroom where he'd been grading students' exams and urged him into her car, claiming it was an emergency.

When they reached their destination, however, he'd scoffed to find they had arrived at the local mall.

"Nemuri. A sale at your favorite overpriced boutique is not an emergency."

She glanced at him, smirking. She didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. That was nothing new, however, and they were already here so there was nothing else for it. He'd just have to put up with her flitting from store to store until she was satisfied.

At least, that's what he'd thought would happen.

It would have been far preferable to what had actually happened.

Following her into the mall, he'd let her guide him by the wrist until they stopped at a store he knew she frequented. This was sadly not the first time she'd dragged him along on her shopping sprees. He was highly doubtful it would be the last.

He'd followed her in silence as he always did, watching others around them. He wondered why so many people were willing to pay such outrageous prices for clothes that were perhaps marginally better than clothes found at big box stores.

After a while, Nemuri had announced it was time to try on the clothes she'd found and Aizawa sighed but followed her to the dressing rooms. It wasn't until she'd pushed the bunch of clothes into his hand and pushed him into a dressing room that he realized she'd orchestrated this whole thing for him.

And that's where he was now.

Staring at himself, he took in the clothes he now wore and grimaced.

"This is completely unnecessary, Nemuri. There is nothing wrong with my clothes."

He heard a barely concealed snort.

"That's where you're wrong, honey. Look. Just choose one of those outfits for me. Then we can go."

Aizawa rolled his eyes. "Or I could just leave."

"You could. But I'm your ride, Shouta. And I'm not leaving this store until you pick an outfit."

Aizawa grumbled. Well, it's definitely not this one.

He sighed heavily, weighing his options. It was very unlikely he would be able to stubborn his way out of this which only left playing by her rules.

"I hate you," he murmured but without any real feeling behind it. She knew it wasn't true.

"And I love you," she trilled. He grumbled but steeled himself for the task at hand. Pulling off the first outfit, he rehung the clothes on their hangers before moving on to the next.

He pulled the second outfit on but quickly pulled it off again. It was far too tight. Nemuri should have known better.

The third outfit wasn't horrible, but it wasn't really to his taste. Too bright. And still a little too fitted.

Pulling on the last, he was already doubtful. Until he turned to look at himself in the mirror.

Hmm.

The top was black, long sleeved, and made of a really soft sweater material. The pants were the only pair that were of a jean material but didn't look like jeans. They were also black. The shirt underneath was a light grey, which⁠—while he would rather have black⁠—went admittedly well with the overall look.