In the end, the Doll still didn't have to go home alone as an Ethereal. It was just used as a human clothes hanger instead.
"Hmm, this dress is nice. The fabric's decent too. Ellen, want to try it on?"
Phaga's eyes lit up when he suddenly spotted a pretty nice black dress in the Shark-Thiren section. He casually took it off the rack and held it up in front of Ellen to compare.
Seeing how interested Phaga looked, Ellen couldn't help but sigh. Ignoring the salesgirl's enthusiastic sales pitch beside them, she took the hanger from Phaga's hand and, without much interest, dropped it over the Doll's head. Her tone was flat:
"But Phaga, if we want clothes, we can just have them custom-made. Why do we have to come out specially to buy them?"
Hearing that, Phaga, who had just turned his back to look for another outfit that would suit Ellen, suddenly froze. After a moment he turned around, scratched his cheek awkwardly, and said:
"I thought you'd like these..."
"Who said that?"
Ellen tapped her toes against the floor, tilted her head toward the Doll, and, remembering how it had spent all last night discussing plans with Phaga, asked, "You?"
[Phew~ Yeah.]
The Doll finally managed to struggle out from under the pile of clothes and gulped in a big breath of air. But the moment it stuck its head out, it heard Ellen's doubtful question. The Doll replied, full of righteous indignation:
[Who else? What, were you expecting a clueless little vampire with zero dating experience to come up with a date plan?]
[And besides...]
The Doll glanced at the mountain of clothes piled on the sofa, then at Ellen's tail. Seeing that it was swaying a bit faster than usual, it rolled its eyes and said:
[From where I'm standing, you seem pretty happy about all this.]
Ellen glanced back, and her face suddenly flushed red. Even though Phaga had picked them all out, every one of those outfits had passed through her hands—and she'd tried quite a few of them on. Now they were all piled up here.
"Th–This still isn't right!"
Ellen's face burned as she stubbornly protested, "It's rare for us to come out together. How can we just brush it off with a bit of shopping?!"
Hearing this, the Doll didn't object, even though Ellen was drifting away from their original date plan. For a young couple going out, the most important part was actually [going out]—what they did was secondary. Even if they both came out empty-handed, without a single dennies on them, they could still have fun just messing around with each other's clothes.
[So what do you want to do, then?]
The Doll crossed its arms, curious to hear Ellen's idea.
"I want to..."
Ellen went blank, lightly tapping her lips with a finger. Phaga waved his hand in front of her eyes, but she didn't react at all. Phaga looked over at the Doll, but it only shrugged helplessly.
Suddenly, Ellen's eyes lit up and she cried out in delight, "I've got it!"
Phaga raised an eyebrow, but before he could react, Ellen grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the exit.
The salesgirl hurried after them, waving and shouting, "Hey! Are you still taking these clothes?!"
A voice drifted back from afar: "Doll, pay for me and bring them back home!"
[Huh?]
The Doll was stunned and yelled:
[So I still have to go home by myself!]
...
"Hey, hey! How come half my health bar's already gone? Phaga, can't you go easy on me?"
Inside the arcade, Phaga and Ellen sat side by side at a game cabinet. On the screen, silhouettes flashed and danced through swirling light. Every move came with flashy effects that made their characters look overwhelmingly strong, like they could do anything.
Yet in no time at all, Ellen's character had been forced into a corner by Phaga's. She had no choice but to defend, and the moment she showed even the slightest opening, Phaga seized the gap and wiped her out with a full combo.
"I'm already going easy on you by picking a character that can't break through guards."
Phaga's lips curled slightly as, powered by his swift hand speed, the joystick whirled and the few buttons clacked rapidly under his fingers. On screen, the character he controlled moved like a loyal warrior, constantly hopping up and down according to his precise inputs.
He was both keeping steady pressure on Ellen to chip away at her health and staying ready for any sudden counterattack, always leaving himself room to maneuver. In short—no openings!
Phaga smiled faintly, already picturing Ellen's defeat cutscene in his mind. If she lost at a game she was usually good at, what kind of expression would Ellen make in the end? Just thinking about it was exciting!
"Hmph~"
Phaga couldn't help but chuckle softly, then quickly forced down the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Damn, this guy is actually having fun!
Ellen wrinkled her cute little nose, getting more and more annoyed the longer she thought about it. Although Phaga was usually gentle and refined, right now there was no one else around. The arcade owner was just minding the register at the front counter, focused on taking payments, and there wasn't another soul nearby.
Ah!!!
A private space!
Just imagining losing and then being stared at for ages under Phaga's teasing gaze made Ellen squirm all over. Her eyes rolled, and suddenly she came up with a plan.
Smack!
Something suddenly slapped down on Phaga's left shoulder, making his inputs slip.
"Who's there?"
Phaga whipped his head around, looking to see who had chosen this moment to ruin the fun. But all he saw was a lazily swaying shark tail.
Not good!
Phaga's heart jumped. He spun back toward the screen.
Ellen had already been prepared. The warrior who had been shrinking helplessly in the corner, stewing in frustration, was now brimming with pent-up rage. He lunged forward, fists flying, ready to pummel Phaga's boxer.
"Hmph, my skills are still superior... Ha~"
Delighted at the sudden shift in momentum, Ellen was practically glowing—only for a warm current to suddenly flow through her tail. She gasped, her face turning scarlet as her hands froze mid-input.
On screen, the warrior who'd just begun his fierce counterattack, driving the boxer back against the wall, also came to a halt.
Ellen could practically see the despair on his face, as if he were saying—Hey girl, we were one step away. What are you doing?
Ellen wanted to cry, but there was nothing she could do. Phaga's tail massage felt way too good!
Soon, Phaga let go of Ellen's tail. His hands dropped back onto the joystick and buttons as he resumed control. With a smug grin, he declared,
"Hmph, too easy!"
Phaga's words snapped Ellen out of her daze.
Ellen forced herself out of the joy of having her tail smoothed, her face flushed as she gritted her teeth. "I won't lose!"
"Every villain who roars that line ends up losing... Huh?"
Phaga was about to mock her when Ellen suddenly swept her leg out, pressing her entire black-stockinged leg against Phaga's thigh.
The next second, Ellen hooked her leg. Having already kicked off her high heels at the edge of the chair, she now ran her toes up and down Phaga's calf.
That delicate sensation felt like a soft cotton candy rolling into Phaga's heart. Even the coldest stone couldn't help but be warmed by it.
Especially since Phaga was Ben craving the taste of shark...
Gulp!
Phaga swallowed hard, his hands leaving the joystick and buttons as he closed his eyes tightly.
"He imagined himself sitting cross-legged by a mountain stream, a soft, silky-smooth foot piercing through space to gently tap his chest."
In an instant, he was pushed backward.
The sky was his blanket, the earth his bed. Tender grass provided warmth, while the stream sang its melody. Ellen lay quietly before him, her long black hair sweeping across her eyelids...
After a long while, Phaga opened his eyes. Before him was the final scene: the warrior raised his hands high, shouting the victor's Vanquisher words.
And the boxer lay right there, dead and utterly disgraced.
I'm sorry, Brother Boxer…
Phaga couldn't bear to watch and closed his eyes again.
"I won! Ha! I won!" Ellen raised her hands in triumph, shaking Phaga vigorously, her eyes sparkling with joy.
Phaga glanced sideways, catching Ellen's radiant smile—a sight so beautiful even he rarely witnessed such splendor.
Suddenly, he felt the boxer's death had been worthwhile.
Suddenly, Ellen grabbed Phaga's hand and pulled him running out again:
"Phaga, Phaga! Come play something else with me!"
"Huh? It's not over yet?"
"Of course not! The day's still long. If it comes to it, we can add the night."
"Alright."
"Phaga, Phaga, come here! Let's buy a couple scratch-off tickets to play with."
"Hardly ever win, right?"
"Just buying a few for fun. Win or lose, who cares... Huh, didn't win any after all."
"One last one left. Why not try scratching it open with your tail?"
"Is my tail blessed or something? That won't work... Hey, Phaga, why are you just picking up my tail like that? Stop it! Put it down, everyone's watching!"
"Whoa, we actually won! Three million dennies!"
"Really? Phaga, you're amazing!"
"It's all thanks to your tail, right? But whatever. Do you like strolling through food streets? "Let's go explore."
"Sure, wherever you go, I'll follow."
"Then maybe catch a movie afterward?"
"Where's the Manager?"
"Her place doesn't have a theater, so of course we'll rent out a cinema!"
...
"Phew~ The male lead's death was pretty touching."
After leaving the theater, Phaga and Ellen drifted aimlessly with the crowd.
Suddenly, he glanced back at Ellen. Seeing her reddened eyes, he gently stroked her head and whispered, "Did you cry?"
"No way!"
Ellen stubbornly turned her head away, pouting slightly as she waved Phaga's arm away.
"Tsk, and you say you didn't! Your eyes have already carved out their own channels and set sail!"
Phaga reached out to wipe her clean, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Ellen stiffened, then stubbornly turned her head away. She opened her mouth as if to bite Phaga's finger, puffing out her cheeks and making a fierce little face.
Phaga couldn't help but cover his mouth and chuckle softly. Suddenly, the corner of his eye caught a glimmer of shimmering light.
Following the light, he realized they were right beside the river.
The night stirred an unwearying breeze, carrying the river's refreshing coolness that beckoned them closer.
"Let's go see over there," Phaga said, taking Ellen's hand.
Ellen didn't pull away. Instead, she clasped his hand in hers and gave a slight nod.
And so, the two of them reached the riverbank. Separated only by a railing, they gazed at the shimmering surface of the water, the soft moonlight reflecting like a mirror image of the starry sky and dreams.
Without thinking, Phaga took out his phone, looked at Ellen, and asked with interest, "Want to take a picture?"
"Sure!"
Ellen nodded decisively, then snatched Phaga's phone with a touch of possessiveness. She gently pressed Phaga's head against her shoulder.
Click~
The flash illuminated them, freezing Ellen and her little darling in that moment.
Ellen gazed at the photo. Though silent, her expression spoke volumes of joy.
"Hey, that's not fair."
Phaga murmured a slight complaint, raising his eyebrow.
"That's not fair. You should lean on my shoulder for one too."
"You're too tall. I can't reach."
Ellen refused without turning her head.
"Then just stand on your tiptoes!"
Phaga suddenly remembered something, reached into his wallet, and pulled out a photo.
It was taken by Ruby—showing Ellen on tiptoes, forcefully kissing Phaga.
"See? You were so adorable back then."
Phaga smiled, his eyes glistening with nostalgia.
Confirming their relationship had been the happiest moment of Phaga's life.
Suddenly, Ellen snatched the photo away.
"What's with you, still reminiscing about that time?"
Ellen's pouty lips curled in instant displeasure.
She spun around abruptly, wrapping both arms around Phaga's neck.
In the hazy moonlight, Phaga saw Ellen's dreamy eyes as she murmured softly:
"That past is buried in photos—how could it be cuter than me now?"
"Such a killjoy, you stinky vampire… Mmmph!"
Bathed in moonlight, the little shark stood on tiptoe.
The bustling traffic faded into haze; the clamor of crowds and car horns vanished.
Only the gentle night breeze carried a hint of enchantment, brushing past their hair to the window—painting a scene for some family's new swallows?
...