The week leading up to the Fujisawa Fireworks Festival wasn't a week. It was an exercise in existential juggling that would have made a senior project manager weep in the fetal position.
Kaito Tanaka, a student whose greatest goal in life was to achieve a state of absolute rest, found himself living two parallel lives to fix a divided girl.
His mental agenda, once empty and serene, now looked like a Gantt chart drawn by a lunatic.
[Morning/Night Shift: The Sanctuary (Invaded)]
Target: Rio Futaba (Original/Scientist).
Location: Apartment 301.
Objective: Self-Esteem Rehabilitation and Logistical Support.
Support Team: Mai Sakurajima (Style Mentor/Cook), Fia (Chaotic Mascot/Source of White Noise).
[Afternoon Shift: The Urban Jungle]
Target: Rio Futaba (The Other/Influencer).
Location: Streets of Fujisawa/Enoshima.
Objective: Desensitization to External Validation and Social Normalization.
Support Team: None (Solo).
"This is not a school life," Kaito muttered on Tuesday night, staring at the ceiling while Fia snored in the closet and the girls whispered in the bedroom. "This is a harem simulator with difficulty set to 'Logistical Nightmare'."
Phase 1: The Domestic Front
Nights at the apartment became a strange routine of forced domesticity.
Futaba (the "Original") was slowly adapting, becoming less reserved. She wore the "regular" clothes Kaito had forced her to buy, though the first thing she did upon entering was change into pajamas. It seemed she was finally starting to open up, "poking her head out" to test the ground.
On Wednesday night, Kaito was on the beanbag, trying to play a game, when Mai decided to turn the living room into a makeshift beauty salon.
"Look up, Rio," Mai ordered, holding an eyelash curler as if it were a surgical instrument.
"That looks like a medieval torture device," Futaba said, trembling, sitting on the floor between Mai's legs.
"It is engineering applied to eyelashes," Kaito intervened, without taking his eyes off the screen. "It increases the curvature, allowing greater light entry and creating the optical illusion of larger eyes. It is pure optical physics. Accept the science."
Futaba relaxed a little. "When you put it that way... it makes sense."
Fia, who was futilely trying to braid her own hair and ending up creating challenging knots (veritable topological problems), floated closer to them.
"The System says 'Makeup Sessions' increase confidence by +15! Can I apply divine glitter? It is made of stardust and angel dandruff!"
"No," Kaito, Mai, and Futaba said in unison.
Kaito watched the scene out of the corner of his eye. Futaba was laughing. She was without glasses, her face lightly made up by Mai. She didn't look like the depressed girl. She looked... well, she looked exactly like the girl Kaito met in the afternoons, just without the desperation in her eyes.
"Convergence is near," Kaito thought. "The hardware is the same. The software just needs an update patch."
Phase 2: The Exterior Front
If nights were about construction, afternoons were about deconstruction.
Kaito met with the "Other Futaba" after school. Her posture was always defensive, almost defiant, as if expecting to be the target of criticism. However, the relief in her eyes upon seeing him arrive was undeniable.
They didn't do anything "romantic." Kaito applied "Banality Therapy."
On Thursday, he took her to a Game Center (Arcade).
"Why are we here?" she asked, adjusting her miniskirt uncomfortably as the sounds of blips and bloops filled the air. "This is noisy and smells like sweaty nerds."
"It is an environment of pure meritocracy," Kaito said, exchanging a bill for coins. "Here, no one cares about your cleavage. They care about your 'High Score'."
He took her to the Taiko no Tatsujin (drum game) machine.
"Pick a song. And don't lose."
"I've never played this!" she protested.
"Then learn. Adaptability is a sign of intelligence."
Ten minutes later, she was sweating and shouting curses, hitting the plastic drum with the intensity of an enraged deity. She had forgotten to pose, to check if anyone was looking at her legs. Her only focus was on hitting the rhythm of an annoying pop song.
When the song ended, she was panting, her hair half loose.
"I... I got Rank A!" she shouted, turning to Kaito with a genuine, radiant smile.
Kaito watched her. That smile. It was identical to the smile the Original Futaba gave Mai the night before.
"It's not Rank S," Kaito said, ruining the moment on purpose to maintain balance. "But it is acceptable for a novice. Let's go. I'm buying juice. 120 yen. Don't get used to it."
"You are such a cheapskate, Tanaka!" she laughed, punching his shoulder.
"SYSTEM LOGS: SHE FORGOT TO CHECK INSTAGRAM FOR 45 MINUTES!" Fia celebrated in Kaito's head. "WE ARE CURING DIGITAL DOPAMINE ADDICTION WITH PLASTIC DRUMS!"
Phase 3: Friday and the Convergence
Friday arrived. The festival was next Saturday.
Kaito was exhausted. Managing two personalities was more tiring than managing a goddess and an actress.
He was walking home with the Other Futaba. The sun was setting, creating that anime scenery that usually precedes confessions or tragedies.
"Next week..." began the Other Futaba, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk. "It's the festival."
"Correct calendar observation," Kaito said.
"You said... about the yukata," she murmured, without looking at him. "Were you serious? About me... looking good? Even without trying?"
Kaito stopped. He looked at her. She wasn't wearing her usual mask of confidence. She looked small.
"I never lie about aesthetics or logistics," Kaito said. "Lying requires memory to sustain the falsehood. The truth is more efficient. Yes, you would look good."
She bit her lip.
"I... I want to go. To the festival. With you. And with Mai-san. And with... the other one."
Kaito raised an eyebrow. "With the other one?"
"Yes," she said, voice firm, though her hands trembled. "I'm tired of running from her."
"I want... to go back," she said, looking into his eyes. "But I don't know how. I don't know if she wants me back."
"She is you," Kaito said. "And you are her. You are both stubborn, intelligent, and like cheap sweet bread. Reintegration is just a matter of admitting you want to be both things: the scientist who wears pretty skirts and the pretty girl who knows quantum physics."
He resumed walking.
"Next Saturday, at 5 PM. Fujisawa Station. Wear the yukata. If you show up in a miniskirt, I'm leaving and taking Fia with me."
"Who is Fia?"
"A headache you will meet soon."
Upon arriving home, Kaito found the apartment in a state of quiet frenzy.
Original Futaba stood in the middle of the room, holding a hanger with a dark blue yukata with hydrangea prints. Mai was kneeling, adjusting the hem.
"I can't wear this," Futaba was saying, panicking. "It's too... flashy. And the obi squeezes my stomach. What if I have to run?"
"Why would you have to run at a fireworks festival?" Mai asked patiently. "Running from a fire?"
"Statistically possible!"
Kaito closed the door.
"I'm home," he announced. "And I bring news from the front. The 'Other' agreed to the ceasefire. The meeting is set for next week."
Futaba froze, clutching the yukata to her chest.
"She... she's coming?"
"She is," Kaito said, going to the kitchen for water. "And she will be wearing a yukata. Which means if you don't wear this one, you'll look like the poor, stylish-less cousin of your own existence."
Futaba looked at the fabric in her hands.
"Kaito has the subtlety of a brick," Mai commented, "but he is right. Tomorrow is the day, Rio. The day to stop hiding."
"KAITO!" Fia came out of the closet, wearing a towel on her head like a turban. "I WANT A YUKATA TOO! THE SYSTEM DEMANDS TYPICAL ATTIRE!"
"You will use the closet sheet and pretend it's a Greek toga," Kaito decreed. "My budget is gone."
Night fell over Apartment 301.
Too tired to argue, Kaito threw himself onto his beanbag. The "Divine Sandwich" was complete: Mai and Futaba occupied the sides of the bed, and Fia was snuggled in the middle.
Kaito closed his eyes.
"Two Futabas in yukatas..." he thought, before sleep took him. "I hope the universe has enough graphics processing power to render that without crashing."
He was exhausted. But for the first time that week, the Gantt chart in his mind showed only one pending task:
[WEEKEND: THE REINTEGRATION FESTIVAL]
Status: Pending.
Problem Level: Extreme.
"Let the fireworks come," Kaito murmured.
________________________________________
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