The Fujisawa shopping mall on Sunday was a hive of unnecessary human activity. Couples walked hand-in-hand blocking aisles, children screamed for overpriced toys, and the air conditioning fought a losing battle against the collective body heat of the crowd.
Kaito walked down the main corridor with the expression of someone crossing a minefield. To his right, Mai Sakurajima, disguised in sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, moved with the grace of someone who owns the room. To his left, Rio Futaba walked hunched over, trying to occupy the smallest volume possible.
"Kaito," Fia's voice echoed in his mind, vibrating with the excitement of someone with no physical body to tire out. "The System detects high levels of 'Social Stress' coming from target Futaba. And moderate levels of 'Existential Annoyance' coming from you. Are we on the right track?!"
"We are in a mall, Fia. Annoyance is the default setting," Kaito thought.
They stopped in front of a women's clothing store. It wasn't the utilitarian discount store where he had taken Koga, nor a luxury boutique where Mai would shop. It was a standard department store, "United Arrows," known for casual, decent, and socially acceptable clothing.
Futaba stopped abruptly at the entrance.
"I'm not going in," she said. "I don't need clothes. The lab coat is functional. It has pockets. It protects against chemical reagents and social gazes."
"You aren't in a lab, Rio," Mai said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And we are trying to reintegrate your personalities. The 'Other Rio' likes fashion. The 'Original Rio' likes comfort. We need to find the intersection in the Venn diagram."
"The intersection is null," Futaba muttered. "She likes showing skin. I like hiding in a cave."
"Wrong," Kaito intervened.
He walked up to Futaba and looked her up and down with a clinical gaze, devoid of any desire but charged with structural analysis.
"The problem," Kaito began, "is that you are both operating at illogical extremes. The 'Other Futaba' treats the body as a cheap commodity to purchase quick attention. You treat the body as a manufacturing defect that needs to be covered by a tarp. Both approaches are inefficient and psychologically damaging."
He pointed to the store.
"Let's go in. I will select items based on geometry and physics. You will try them on. If you don't like them, we leave and you can continue living as a scientific hermit. But the decision will be based on empirical data, not fear."
Futaba looked at Mai, who nodded encouragingly. With a defeated sigh, the scientist entered the store.
Inside the store, Kaito ignored the "Seasonal Trends" racks (too much glitter, too little fabric) and the "Senior Comfort" section (too much beige, too much sadness). He walked through the aisles with the concentration of an engineer looking for parts for a bridge.
"What are you looking for, Kaito?" Mai asked, amused, as she watched him discard a spaghetti-strap top with a gesture of disdain.
"Structure," Kaito replied. "Her body developed early. This creates a center of gravity and curves that the lab coat tries to hide, but actually only transforms into an amorphous and bulky shape. It makes her look bigger than she is, which increases her insecurity."
He stopped in front of a rack of knitwear.
"On the other hand," he continued, picking up a sweater, "the 'Other Futaba' wears clothes that scream 'look at me,' which generates the wrong attention and validates the original's fear that she is only good for being looked at. We need balance. We need... textile architecture."
He pulled out a fine knit sweater, turtleneck, in a shade of navy blue.
"This," he declared.
"Turtleneck?" Futaba wrinkled her nose, approaching timidly. "Won't that suffocate me?"
"It is ribbed," Kaito explained, stretching the fabric. "The fabric follows the form without constricting. It enhances the silhouette without exposing an inch of skin. It is elegant, not vulgar. And the dark blue is professional, but not depressing like the gray of your lab coat."
He tossed the sweater into her arms.
Next, he went to the skirt section. He ignored the mini-skirts and the long, shapeless skirts. He picked up an A-line midi skirt, structured fabric, cream-colored.
"High waist," he said. "Marks the bone structure, defines the division between torso and legs, but the 'A' cut softens the hips and offers mobility. You can run from an explosive chemical experiment in this without tripping."
"That is a valid practical consideration," Futaba admitted, analyzing the stitching.
"And finally," Kaito went to a shelf and picked up a long cardigan, made of a soft, light fabric. "The transition piece. If you feel exposed without the lab coat, use this. It has the same length, offers the same feeling of coverage on the back, but doesn't look like you escaped from a psychiatric hospital."
He pushed the three pieces toward her.
"Try them on. Stall 2."
"KAITO IS USING 'APATHETIC STYLIST EYE'!" Fia shouted in his head. "THIS IS SURPRISINGLY COMPETENT! HE IS MAXIMIZING THE 'INTELLECTUAL ELEGANCE' ATTRIBUTES!"
Futaba looked at the clothes. They were pretty. They were clothes she would see in a magazine and think "that would look good on someone else."
"I don't know..." she whispered. "I'm not... that kind of girl."
"What kind?" Kaito asked. "The kind that dresses well? The kind that respects herself? You are a scientist, Futaba. Adapt to the data. The lab coat is an obsolete variable. Go."
Mai pushed her gently toward the fitting room. "Go, Rio. I'll stay here on guard to make sure he doesn't choose anything neon."
Kaito leaned against a pillar, crossing his arms. Shopping malls were exhausting. The lights, the generic pop music, the consumerism... it all drained his social battery.
"You are surprising, Kaito," Mai said, standing next to him, looking at him sideways.
"I am logical."
"No," she corrected. "You are observant. You realized she doesn't hate her body. She hates people's reaction to her body. And you chose clothes that give control back to her."
"Whatever," Kaito yawned. "I just want her to stop wearing that dirty lab coat on my sofa."
Ten minutes passed. The curtain of the stall moved.
"I-I'm coming out," Futaba's voice trembled. "Don't laugh."
"No one is going to laugh," Mai said.
The curtain opened.
Rio Futaba stepped out.
She didn't look like a runway model. She didn't look like the "Other Futaba" from the Instagram photos.
She looked like... Rio Futaba. But a version of her that didn't apologize for existing.
The navy blue sweater hugged her figure respectfully, highlighting that yes, she had curves, but that they were just a part of her geometry, not the main focus. The cream skirt gave her a light elegance. The long cardigan fell over her shoulders, offering the comfort of "coverage" she so needed, but with a fluid drape.
She had taken off her glasses for a moment while trying to put on the sweater and her hair was down, falling over the blue knit.
She was beautiful. In an adult, intelligent, and contained way.
Futaba looked at the hallway mirror. Her eyes widened. She touched her own waist, then the fabric of the cardigan.
"This is..." she began, voice faltering. "I don't look... vulgar."
"No," Kaito said, pushing off the pillar. "You look like a functional person who knows how to dress."
"And I don't look like an old lady," she continued, twirling slightly to see the skirt.
"No. You look your age."
Futaba looked at her reflection. For the first time in years, she didn't feel the immediate need to cover up or hide. She saw a pretty girl. Not the "sexy" girl the other personality tried to be, nor the "invisible" girl the original tried to be. Just... a girl.
"The fabric is comfortable," she murmured, almost to herself. "It doesn't itch, and the skirt has pockets."
"I checked," Kaito said. "Pockets are essential for efficiency."
Mai smiled, visibly proud. "You look amazing, Rio. Truly."
Futaba blushed, a soft flush that matched the new look. She looked at Kaito.
"You chose well, Tanaka. For an idiot who only wears hoodies."
"Thanks for the aggressive compliment," Kaito said. "Now, the important part."
He pointed to the clothes.
"I am not going to buy this for you."
Futaba's smile faltered. "What?"
"I am not your father, nor your boyfriend, nor your bank," Kaito explained calmly. "If I buy it, it will be a gift from me. It will be me dressing you. And the point here isn't me dressing you. It is you accepting yourself."
He took a step closer, maintaining a respectful distance, but ensuring she heard every word.
"The 'Other Futaba' seeks external validation. If I pay, I am giving you external validation. You need to decide if it is worth investing in yourself. You need to decide if this version of you—the version that doesn't hide and doesn't sell itself—deserves to exist."
He looked at the price tag hanging from the skirt.
"It is not cheap. But it is also not the price of your soul. It is the price of good clothes."
Kaito stepped back, putting his hands in his pockets.
"The decision is yours, Futaba. You can go back to the fitting room, put on the lab coat, and continue split in two. Or you can go to the register, spend your own money, and start putting yourself back together."
Silence weighed on the store aisle.
Fia, in his mind, was in reverent silence. "KAITO... THIS IS... THIS IS REAL-TIME CHARACTER GROWTH. YOU ARE GIVING HER THE AGENCY SHE LOST."
Futaba looked at the mirror one last time. She saw the girl in the blue sweater. The girl who looked smart, capable, and, yes, attractive.
She thought of the "Other Futaba" drinking coffee in Enoshima, alone, posting photos for strangers. She thought of the "Original Futaba" huddled in the cybercafé.
And then she looked at this third option. The middle-ground option.
She took a deep breath.
"I'll take it," she said, voice firm. "I'll take it all. And I'm going to burn that old lab coat when I get home."
"Don't burn it," Kaito said. "Lab coats are expensive. Just wash it and wear it only in the lab, where it belongs."
Futaba smiled. A real smile, which reached her eyes without the barrier of glasses.
"Right. Sound logic."
She turned and marched toward the register, the skirt swaying with a newfound confidence.
Mai approached Kaito, watching her friend.
"You know," Mai said softly, "you are very good at this for someone who claims to hate getting involved."
"I just solved a packaging problem," Kaito said, turning his back and walking toward the store exit. "The internal product was good, the presentation was faulty. Now, let's go. The air conditioning in here is drying out my eyes and I want my beanbag back."
But as he walked, Kaito felt a slight, almost imperceptible, sense of satisfaction.
"AFFINITY BONUS: +50 (SELF-ACCEPTANCE)!" Fia announced. "'SCHRÖDINGER PARADOX' MISSION - PHASE 1 COMPLETE! PHASE 2: REINTEGRATION!"
"Phase 2," Kaito thought. "The part where we have to convince the digital influencer to give back the house keys. How troublesome."
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