[ Fuuta, of course, reacts to all the tugging and poking with the grace of a chihuahua snapping its teeth at a bee. The tug at his sleeve earns a grunt and a jerk of his arm back, while the poke at his back as him straightening up with a reluctant, affronted huff; too bad his habitual slouching habit means he's going to slowly crumble back down to light shrimping over the course of their conversation. ]

I-it's not shapeless?!

[ Sidling back a half-step as he grips at the floppy sleeve of his hoodie in clearly defensive fashion. ]

It's made to be oversized. This kind of stuff works better for guys if they're not ... [ big and buff. ] It's supposed to be like that, alright?! I know what I'm doing.

[ Or at least, he thought he did! He's getting obviously self-conscious now that Zeta's tearing him a new one, and sneaks a glance down at himself with lips pursed and brow scrunched up. He's pretty sure dressing like this is the best way he's found to look decent, but now ... Though Fuuta does give an exasperated groan as he's tugged along towards the clothing racks, it's telling that he doesn't actually try to pull away this time. ]

I swear, if you're just saying that 'cause you want me to wear something stupid so you can laugh …