The bell rang, releasing the students of Minegahara High School for the afternoon. For most, it was time for clubs, karaoke, or simply going home. For Kaito, it was time to implement "Operation: Aesthetics of Disaster."
He waited at the school gate. The afternoon breeze was warm, heavy with the humidity that promised the start of summer. Fia, in her ethereal form (and gagged by the fear of rolled-up magazines), floated around his head like an anxious pink satellite.
"The System is confused, Kaito," her voice echoed in his mind. "You selected the 'Shopping Date' event, which is an A-Level romantic classic. But your search parameters are set to 'Thermal Efficiency' and 'Pocket Density.' Are you taking her to a military surplus store?"
"No," Kaito thought, adjusting his backpack strap. "That would be too cool. Military clothes have a certain 'cool' appeal to some. I need something that annihilates the concept of 'attraction' through sheer, aggressive banality."
Tomoe Koga appeared. She was walking with that hesitant gait of someone heading to court. Her friends watched her from afar, whispering. Kaito noticed she had done her hair and put on a little lip gloss.
"Mistake number one," Kaito thought. "She dressed up for the executioner."
"Hey," Koga said when she got close, trying to look casual but failing miserably. "So... where are we going? Shibuya? Harajuku? If we're going to pretend to be a couple on a date, we should go somewhere people will see us, right?"
Kaito looked her up and down. "School uniform. Standard. Acceptable for the academic environment, inefficient for real life. Let's correct that."
"Correct?" She took a step back.
"We are going to the station shopping mall," Kaito declared, starting to walk. "We are going to buy civilian clothes for you. And I am going to choose."
Koga's eyes lit up. A boy buying clothes for her? That sounded... surprisingly normal. Maybe even romantic?
"Really?" she asked, quickening her pace to walk beside him. "Do you have good taste? I mean, you only wear gray hoodies, but maybe it's a purposeful minimalist style..."
"My taste is irrelevant. My logic is absolute."
They took the train. Koga talked incessantly about the season's trends, about pastel colors and pleated skirts. She was relaxing again. The "Comfort Refuge" was activating. She was forgetting that Kaito was a problem and starting to see him as an eccentric shopping companion.
Kaito felt the urgency of the mission. He needed to destroy this illusion before the loop solidified into reinforced concrete.
They arrived at the mall. Kaito ignored the colorful window displays of the youth brand stores. He ignored the fancy department store. He guided her directly to a large generic retail store, known for its low prices and utilitarian design. The light, white and excessive, came from fluorescent bulbs. The air carried the scent of polyester fresh from the factory.
"Here?" Koga asked, her excitement wilting. "In this store? My grandma buys socks here."
"Your grandma is a wise woman who values cost-benefit," Kaito said, grabbing a shopping basket. "Let's begin."
He didn't go to the young women's section. He went to the "Last Season Clearance / Functional Wear" section.
"Date Rule," Kaito said, stopping in front of a clothing rack. "You will try on whatever I choose. If you refuse, I will shout in the middle of the store that you have a secret collection of heart-shaped rocks."
"I don't have that!" she shouted, blushing.
"But no one knows that. And the rumor is stronger than the truth. Try it on."
Kaito began the selection.
He didn't choose things that were ugly for the sake of being ugly. He chose things that made logical sense, but zero aesthetic sense.
"Item 1," he announced, tossing a piece into the basket. "Beige fishing vest with sixteen pockets."
"What?!" Koga gasped. "I don't fish!"
"Irrelevant. Handbags are inefficient. They occupy a hand that could be used for tasks or self-defense. With this vest, you can carry your phone, makeup, wallet, a first-aid kit, and emergency snacks, keeping your upper extremities free. It is the pinnacle of human evolution."
"It's beige!" she protested. "It's the color of sadness!"
"It is the color of neutrality. It matches everything because it matches nothing. Next."
He picked up a pair of pants. Not jeans. They were wide nylon pants with zippers at the knees that allowed them to transform into shorts. The color was a faded moss green.
"Convertible pants," Kaito said, eyes shining with genuine technical appreciation. "Climate adaptability. If it gets hot, zip. If it gets cold, zip. The fabric is water-repellent and dries in four minutes. The 'cargo' aesthetic offers extra leg volume, intimidating natural predators."
"Do I look like a natural predator with these legs?!" Koga was horrified.
"And to finish," Kaito went to a shoe rack and picked up a pair of orthopedic velcro sandals, sturdy and thick, intended for hiking on rough terrain by people over sixty. "Arch support. Maximum ventilation. Non-slip sole. No more heels that destroy your bone structure and decrease your escape velocity."
He shoved the basket full of nylon and velcro atrocities into her arms.
"Try them on," he ordered. "Now."
Koga looked at the clothes. Looked at Kaito. Looked at the other customers—elderly ladies and tired mothers—watching her.
"I hate you," she whispered. "I hate you with every fiber of my fashionista being."
"Good," Kaito said. "That's the spirit. Stall 4."
Koga marched to the fitting room as if to the guillotine.
Kaito waited outside, arms crossed.
"KAITO, YOU ARE A MONSTER!" Fia whimpered in his head. "THIS IS A CRIME AGAINST FASHION! THE SYSTEM IS ISSUING ALERTS OF 'AESTHETIC DISSONANCE'! HER DIGNITY BAR IS IN FREEFALL!"
"Her dignity is the price of her freedom," Kaito replied. "If she feels ridiculous enough with me, she will want to break the cycle to go back to being 'pretty' away from me. It is shock therapy."
The curtain of the stall flew open violently.
"TA-DA!" Koga shouted, her voice dripping with venomous sarcasm. "ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, YOU UTILITARIAN MANIAC?"
Kaito turned.
The sight was... impressive.
Tomoe Koga was dressed like a middle-aged tourist lost on a low-budget safari. The beige vest was huge on her, full of empty pockets that made her look square. The moss-green convertible pants made a "swish-swish" noise with every movement. And the orthopedic sandals with white socks he forced her to keep on were the cherry on top of the disaster.
She looked ridiculous. Objectively, undeniably ridiculous.
People in the store stopped. A child pointed.
Koga was red as a tomato, hands balled into fists at her sides, shaking with embarrassment.
"I look like..." she stammered, eyes full of tears of humiliation. "I look like an old uncle going fishing on a Sunday!"
Kaito assessed her. He walked around her, inspecting the fit. He pulled one of the pant zippers. Tested the depth of a vest pocket.
"Perfect," he declared, without a shred of irony. "You are protected against the wind, prepared for temperature changes, have a 5kg carrying capacity, and your feet are ergonomically stable. You are the apex of efficiency."
He stopped in front of her and looked her in the eye.
"How do you feel, Koga?"
"I feel horrible!" she exploded. "I feel ugly! I want to take this off and burn it!"
"Exactly," Kaito said, his voice low and intense. "Remember this feeling. Being with me means this. It means sacrificing aesthetics for logic. It means being functional, not pretty. It means I will always choose velcro over lace."
He took a step closer, invading her personal space, forcing her to face the reality of what he was offering.
"Do you still find this 'comfortable'? Do you still want to stay in this loop, where your boyfriend dresses you like a zombie apocalypse survivor just because it has extra pockets?"
Koga looked at him. The shame was there, yes. The anger too.
But then, something happened. Something that wasn't in Kaito's calculations.
Koga looked at her reflection in the hallway mirror. She saw the giant vest. Saw the nylon pants.
And she started to laugh.
It wasn't a happy laugh. It was a hysterical laugh, born of the sheer absurdity of the situation.
"This is..." she gasped between laughs, wiping a tear. "This is so stupid! Look at me! I have sixteen pockets! Why do I need sixteen pockets?!"
She put her hands on her hips, striking a ridiculous model pose in the horrible outfit.
"It's so ugly it comes full circle and becomes amazing!" she laughed. "My God, if Rena saw me like this, she would have a heart attack. She'd pass out!"
She looked at Kaito, and her eyes weren't full of repulsion. They were shining with manic amusement.
"You're crazy, Tanaka. You're completely crazy." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "No one ever... no one has ever made me look this dumb and acted like it was serious. It's... it's liberating. I don't have to worry if I look pretty, because it's impossible to look pretty in this!"
She spun around, making the pants go swish-swish.
"I'll take it," she decided.
Kaito's brain stalled. "What?"
"I'll take it. I'm buying this atrocity," Koga said, grinning from ear to ear. "It'll be my pajamas. Or my 'bathroom cleaning' outfit. It is the trophy of our stupidity."
"WARNING! WARNING!" Fia's siren sounded like an air raid. "CATASTROPHIC PLAN FAILURE! HUMILIATION HAS BEEN CONVERTED INTO 'INSIDE JOKE'! AFFINITY +30! SHE UNLOCKED THE 'SCREW FASHION' ACHIEVEMENT! COMFORT LEVEL HAS REACHED CRITICAL LEVELS!"
Kaito looked at the girl laughing in fishing clothes. He tried to use fashion logic to break her, and instead, he accidentally cured her obsession with perfection. He gave her the freedom to be ridiculous.
He had failed successfully.
"How..." Kaito muttered, feeling defeat weigh on his shoulders more than any backpack, "...incredibly troublesome."
He went to the register to pay for the clothes (because the rule of efficiency dictated he couldn't let her pay for the trauma he caused).
While the cashier scanned the beige vest, Kaito looked at Koga, who was now taking selfies in the mirror with the hideous outfit, making funny faces.
The loop hadn't broken. On the contrary. It seemed he had just added steel reinforcements to the walls of the time prison.
He needed a new approach. Something that attacked not her vanity, but the lie itself.
He needed Mai Sakurajima.
________________________________________
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