The transition from his daily-life to the professional world was always like stepping onto a different planet.
Studio Aqua was a massive, high-end indoor facility located in the heart of the city's commercial district. Behind its unassuming concrete exterior lay a multi-million-yen simulated tropical paradise. Towering artificial palm trees swayed under industrial fans, pristine white sand was perfectly raked along the edge of a massive, crystal-clear wave pool, and an array of blindingly bright studio lights perfectly mimicked the midday summer sun.
It was a bustling hive of industry professionals, lighting technicians, set designers, makeup artists, and directors, all moving with urgent purpose.
And right in the center of it all, Kamishiro Renji felt completely, utterly at home.
He sat comfortably on a plush leather sofa in his designated VIP dressing room, sipping an iced black coffee. He was dressed casually in a loose linen shirt and dark slacks, but his sheer physical presence and mature aura made him look less like a high school student on leave and more like the seasoned star of the campaign.
'No Takumi shouting, no dense misunderstandings or holding back to preserve relationships. This would just be professional adults, high-end catering, and skin-tight swimwear.' Renji thought, kicking his long legs out and resting his head back against the sofa. 'This is going to be an incredible week.'
A soft, hesitant knock at the dressing room door broke his relaxed reverie.
"Come in." Renji called out smoothly.
The door opened, and a young woman stepped inside, carefully balancing a sleek clothing rack and a clipboard. She was a wardrobe assistant, likely in her early twenties, wearing a simple black top and a lanyard bearing her ID: Sato. She was cute, with her hair pulled back into a neat, professional bun, and she projected an air of focused efficiency.
But the moment her eyes landed on Renji, that efficiency faltered just a fraction.
Even fully clothed and lounging on a sofa, Renji's broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and cool blue eyes commanded the room. Sato swallowed subtly, her posture stiffening as she gripped her clipboard a little tighter.
"G-Good morning, Kamishiro-san," Sato said, bowing politely. "I'm Sato, from the wardrobe department. I have the initial sample pieces for today's solo test shots."
"Morning, Sato-san," Renji smiled, standing up. His towering 186.5-centimeter frame instantly dwarfed her, forcing her to look up. "Thanks for bringing them. What are we starting with?"
Sato cleared her throat, trying to maintain her professional mask. She pulled a single hanger from the rack. "The director wants to start with the flagship piece. It's a low-rise, athletic-cut swim brief. It's designed to be skin-tight to emphasize the model's... um... musculature."
She handed him the hanger.
Renji looked at the garment. It was a sleek, midnight-blue brief made of a high-end, incredibly unforgiving spandex blend. It was tiny.
'They really weren't kidding when they said 'leave nothing to the imagination'.' Renji thought, highly amused. 'This is practically painted on. In my old world, these kinds of shoots wouldn't have allowed a high schooler to feature in, but this world operates on different rules, so anything goes.'
"Got it. I'll try it on right now." Renji said, taking the hanger. He flashed her a charming, easy smile. "Give me a minute."
He stepped behind the tall, frosted-glass privacy screen in the corner of the room. As he stripped off his linen shirt and slacks, he looked down at the tiny scrap of fabric in his hand, and then down at his own heavily endowed member.
He let out a quiet, genuinely entertained chuckle.
'Let's see if this world's physics engine can handle a high-spec anomaly squeezing into standard sizing.' he thought. He stepped into the briefs and pulled them up.
It was an immediate, severe struggle.
The sample size was clearly meant for a standard, lean catalogue model. Renji was built like a Greek god, and his endowment aggressively challenged the structural integrity of the spandex. The fabric stretched taut across his narrow hips, the low-rise cut dipping dangerously low beneath his heavy eight-pack. But the real issue was at the front. The fabric was stretched to its absolute limit, struggling wildly to contain him and ultimately failing to hide a single, distinct detail of his heavy, substantial package.
It didn't look overly tight or uncomfortable; it just looked obscenely, unapologetically masculine.
Renji adjusted the waistband, completely unbothered by the scandalous fit. He owned his physique. He ran a hand through his dark hair, stepped out from behind the privacy screen, and cleared his throat.
"Sato-san. How is the fit for the camera?"
Sato, who had been reviewing her clipboard, looked up.
The clipboard instantly slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly against the hardwood floor.
Her professional mask didn't just crack; it violently shattered into a million pieces. Her eyes went wide, instantly and involuntarily locking onto his midsection. The sheer, overwhelming size and the incredibly explicit outline straining against the thin blue fabric short-circuited her brain completely.
Her face exploded into a shade of red so bright it rivalled a stop sign. Her jaw actually went slack.
[Empathy Insight] Activated.
[Target: Sato Yui]
[Status: Extreme Panic / Severe Overstimulation]
[Current Thought: "Oh my god. Oh my god. It's huge. That's a high schooler?! The fabric is going to rip!"]
[Frustration Gauge: 98%]
Renji had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing out loud as it would be incredibly rude. 'She looks like she's going to pass out. I love this job.'
"Is there an issue with the sample?" Renji asked smoothly, his voice a low, calm rumble that only seemed to make her flinch harder. He didn't cover himself or act shy. He just stood there, completely relaxed, letting her take in the full view.
"I... It... The..." Sato stammered, frantically trying to drag her eyes up to his face, but failing miserably. "It's... pulling. The fabric is... pulling at the hips. The sample size might be... a bit... too small for your... proportions, Kamishiro-san."
"Really? It feels not much of a problem to me, but you are the professional for fits, so you might be right." Renji teased lightly, stepping closer to her.
Sato took a tiny step back, her breath hitching as he closed the distance. The sheer heat and scent of expensive cologne radiating off his sculpted body enveloped her.
"I-I also need to check the waistband tension for the next sample." Sato squeaked out, her sense of professional duty desperately trying to override her flustered state. "It's for tor the camera. If the next-sized sample rides too low, it will... be inappropriate."
"Go ahead." Renji offered, planting his feet and looking down at her.
Sato slowly sank to her knees right in front of him. From her angle, the sheer, imposing scale of his physique was entirely overwhelming. The intimidating bulge in the spandex was directly at her eye level.
Her hands were shaking violently as she reached out. She delicately pinched the edge of the midnight-blue waistband, trying to adjust the fabric to sit properly on his sharp V-line. But because the spandex was stretched so taut, she had to pull harder, bringing her knuckles flush against the hard, burning heat of his lower abdomen.
"It's... very snug." Sato whispered, her breathing shallow and ragged, her face burning up as she stared at the strained fabric.
Suddenly, her shaking fingers slipped. Her knuckles accidentally brushed heavily against the undeniable, rigid shape pushing against the center of the briefs.
Sato gasped, yanking her hands back as if she had just touched a hot stove. She practically fell backward onto the floor, her eyes wide with sheer terror and embarrassment.
"I-I'm so sorry!" she cried out, her voice cracking, completely on the verge of tears from the overwhelming tension. "I didn't mean to! I slipped! I'm so unprofessional, please forgive me!"
Renji looked down at the trembling, blushing older woman on the floor. In a normal rom-com, this was where the protagonist would frantically apologize back, wave his hands in embarrassment, and ruin the mood entirely.
But Renji obviously wouldn't do that.
Instead, a slow, wicked, incredibly charming smile spread across his handsome face. He crouched down smoothly, bringing himself to her eye level.
He reached out and gently but firmly caught her delicate, shaking wrist, halting her panicked movements. His large, warm thumb slowly traced the erratic pulse beating against her skin.
Sato froze, looking up into his deep, predatory blue eyes.
"You're trembling, senpai," Renji whispered, dropping the formal honorifics entirely, his low voice vibrating in the quiet dressing room. "There's no need to apologize. I actually liked it."
Sato's breath hitched, her pupils dilating. "K-Kamishiro-san...?"
"If you're this stressed just from looking at a sample size," Renji murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips before locking onto her eyes again, "maybe we should take a few minutes to help you relax before I go out on set."
Without waiting for an answer, Renji stood up, keeping a firm grip on her hand, and smoothly reached over to the dressing room door.
With a definitive, heavy click, he threw the deadbolt, locking them inside.
He turned back to her, the wicked smile fully blooming.
"Now, before you bring in the next size," Renji said softly, pulling her up from the floor. "Let's test just how far this fabric can actually stretch."