My girlfriend is actually myself.

Chapter 15 What are Couple Photos?

Clothes in shopping malls are always expensive, and Shiraishi Saku's wallet suffered a major blow. However, feeling the comfort of the girl's body, the money was well spent.

Since they were already there, Shiraishi Saku and Yukimiya Natsune strolled around the mall. On the top floor, a horror movie adapted from a game was showing, so they bought a bucket of popcorn and two movie tickets and went in to watch it.

Normally, because his younger sister has zero tolerance for horror movies, Shiraishi Saku always goes out to watch them alone, which is inevitably a bit lonely and quiet. Besides, there's too much popcorn in the theater, and he can't finish it all by himself.

Now that we have Yukimiya Natsune, neither of those problems is a problem anymore.

The girl ate a little more than half of the popcorn from the small bucket, while he ate most of it.

The two bodies differ in physical attributes, as well as in their appetites and tastes.

These are the entries they recently compiled.

Compared to Shiraishi Saku, Yukimiya Natsune's body ate even less.

They threw the empty popcorn bucket into the trash can, stood it up on the escalator going up and down, and passed an ice cream shop at the corner.

The sweltering heat in the movie theater hadn't yet dissipated from the two bodies. Colorful ice cream scoops flashed coolly on the electronic screen. Shiraishi Saku stopped and bought two ice cream cones.

One is matcha, the other is strawberry; the matcha is sprinkled with powder, and the strawberry is drizzled with sauce.

One copy was held by Shiraishi Saku, and the other by Yukimiya Natsune.

The two bodies first took a bite of their own portion, finding the taste pleasant, and then raised their hands to bring the flavors in their hands to each other's lips.

Shiraishi Saku took a bite of the strawberry, his brows furrowing at the sweetness, while Yukimiya Natsune licked her mouth of matcha, her lips pursing at the bitterness.

This is the difference in taste between the two bodies.

Just as hands and feet prefer different temperatures, two different bodies also have different preferences. The only constant is the desire to be close to each other.

Just like when a person has nothing to do, they always want to pinch their fingers and scratch their feet.

Withdrawing their arms, the two bodies continued eating on their own. Although their tastes differed, their shared experience conveyed a feeling about the flavors, not the flavors themselves; both bodies found it delicious and pleasant.

Shiraishi Saku glanced upstairs, and as they exchanged ice creams, a camera shutter clicked.

On the escalator at the top floor, a woman holding a camera approached them.

"I just took some photos. Can I get your permission? I want to use them for a competition." The woman held up her DSLR camera and handed the small screen to Shiraishi Saku and Yukimiya Natsune.

In Tokyo, there are many street photographers like this woman. They can submit their photos to magazines, participate in photography competitions, or even use them to run online accounts.

Shiraishi Saku looked at the DSLR screen, which showed a close-up shot of him and the girl feeding each other.

He frowned slightly, and Yukimiya Natsune's lips curved downwards; both of them looked like they were wearing masks of pain.

Shiraishi Saku suspected that the other party was there to cause trouble.

The woman explained, "I've been taking pictures in the mall for a long time. Those couples sharing snacks all look so delicious. But girls have different tastes, how can boys and girls taste exactly the same? A lot of those delicious looks are faked, and a lot of them are just boys settling for what the girls like, or vice versa."

She excitedly explained her idea: "Only when two people taste each other's pain can the true sweetness be revealed. This perfectly matches my recently prepared 'Real Love' series, and I want to include your photos in it."

Shiraishi Saku and Yukimiya Natsune exchanged a glance. This wasn't eye contact; they didn't need it. It's just that when people are thinking, they subconsciously look at something.

"And you two look so good together," the woman said, still excited. "Look, the sunlight is streaming in from this girlfriend, perfectly highlighting her long, golden hair, while the boyfriend, in the relative shade, has his black hair perfectly complementing it..."

"...Are you two planning to go online? Could you tell me your Instagram or X accounts? I can include your accounts when I post pictures. With your vibes, you'd definitely be a hit if you ran a couple's account."

The woman's words frequently included terms like "boyfriend," "girlfriend," and "couple," leaving Shiraishi Saku unsure how to respond.

Moreover, this topic has gone further and further astray.

The moment she stopped speaking, Shiraishi Saku and Yukimiya Natsune said in unison, "Forget about the online account, you can use the photos, but please don't reveal our information."

"Their answers were exactly the same, not a single word different!" The woman looked at them in shock.

Although there are often videos online of boyfriends guessing their girlfriends' next words perfectly, those are all performances. The woman never expected that she could actually witness this synchronization in real life.

"We're leaving now," said Shiraishi Saku.

"Goodbye," said Yukimiya Natsune.

"Wait, I'll send you the photos!"

Shiraishi Saku took out his phone, added the woman as a friend, and received the freshly taken photos.

After saying goodbye to her, he and Yukimiya Natsune walked out of the mall together.

It's getting late, time to go home.

They hadn't walked far in the evening sunlight when they encountered another person blocking their way.

"Hello," the man in the suit said, handing over a business card. "I'm a producer from Kurokawa Productions. Are you interested in idols?"

I encountered another talent scout.

After declining the invitation and tossing aside the business card, Shiraishi Saku and Yukimiya Natsune headed towards the subway.

"I've never received this kind of treatment before when I go out on my own," Shiraishi Saku said, looking at Yukimiya Natsune and revealing his true feelings.

When one body expresses its inner thoughts, it is talking to itself; when two bodies express their inner thoughts, it becomes a normal conversation.

"Because of the hair and eyes, I guess." Yukimiya Natsune touched the golden hair on her shoulder.

Even in Europe, blonde hair and blue eyes are a rare trait, and many women who appear to have blonde hair actually have dyed it. In the United States, having natural blonde hair is like being 1.9 meters tall in China; the owner often "unintentionally" reveals their natural blondeness.

Moreover, there are different levels of blonde hair, not to mention that the color can sometimes fade with age.

The blonde hair of Yukimiya Natsune was a color that Shiraishi Saku spent a long time adjusting on the computer, and it is not comparable to ordinary blonde hair.

"Being an idol doesn't seem so bad." Shiraishi Saku glanced at the paper bag in his hand, which contained four bras that must have cost a lot of money.

"Japanese idols are out of the question, too much of a fuss." Yukimiya Natsune glanced at a few passersby walking towards her, reached out and took Shiraishi Saku's arm. "Besides, I don't even have an identity."

Several passersby who tried to strike up a conversation glanced at Shiraishi Saku and then left disappointed.

"Identity is indeed a problem." Shiraishi Saku felt the touch of the new bra, which was much larger than when he arrived.

"Let's live like this for now. Once you've saved up some money, you can go abroad and get a new identity," Yukimiya Natsumi replied.

This was the method they had originally planned.

"Too slow, too long," Shiraishi Saku lamented.

Without identification, it's impossible to take a young girl around freely. The subway doesn't require identification, but the high-speed rail does.

Once inside the subway station, they ended their verbal conversation and stood quietly in the crowd.

As I stepped out of the subway station closest to my home, the sunlight had turned into the glow of sunset, casting a slight reddish hue on Yukimiya Natsune's hair.

As they approached a corner, they stopped, and an apple rolled down the road and into front of them.