18. Showroom
While dancing a waltz with the sluggish sensation of a dream where my body wouldn't move freely, Jinri and I communicated mentally. Time to get to the point.
"What do we do now?"
Jinri asked, and I resigned myself to making the decision.
"First, we can't keep running around naked outside, even if it's fine inside this department store."
"But being naked is cool and refreshing," Jinri said lightly.
"A girl shouldn't say stuff like that."
"It's fine," she replied breezily. "I'm a criminal, after all."
"…"
As we had this exchange, we took the escalator to the second floor.
It was a floor lined with clothing stores.
High-end brand shops stood side by side, and for some reason, everyone was wearing masks.
We quickly downloaded and equipped masks of our own. I chose a gold gentleman's mask without a mouth, while Jinri picked a cute white rabbit mask with bloodshot eyes.
"We don't exactly match these, do we?"
When Jinri teased, I shot back,
"That's because your mask is weird."
"No, it's because yours is too plain."
Continuing to dance, we started browsing shops for clothes. Then, a clear voice reached us from somewhere.
It came from the front of an ultra-luxury brand store where a single dress could buy a planet.
"I'm quitting this job."
Hearing the shop clerk's mutter, I instantly decided on that store. We glided smoothly into the shop with waltz movements and approached the clerk, who was glaring at the counter's calculator like a painter scrutinizing a failed masterpiece.
"We'd like uniforms made for Second Tropical Night High School. Tokyo style."
When Jinri spoke, the clerk ignored us for a full three seconds, then stared at us before slowly raising her head.
An impossibly adorable girl's face came into view.
"…Welcome."
Her greeting was so apathetic it seemed to condense the world's indifference, as if a Big Bang could erupt from her carelessness.
That lack of sincerity somehow made her beauty stand out even more.
Even Jinri, programmed as a female, was captivated by her appearance.
"Are you listening?" I asked.
"We want uniforms made."
"…Uniforms?"
Another pause, and her soulless reply came back.
"For uniforms, please go to the school uniform specialty store."
"Uh…"
Jinri forced a strained smile, barely containing her irritation.
"This is a school uniform specialty store, right?"
The clerk, as if only realizing it after three seconds, opened her eyes—slower than a turtle—and said,
"Oh, right. Sorry."
Apologizing, she rose from the counter's stool and approached us with graceful, ballet-like stretches.
"School name?"
Jinri's voice trembled slightly.
"As I said, Second Tropical Night High School. I just told you."
"Oh…" Another pause, another apology. "Right. Sorry."
"…"
"This way, please."
We followed the clerk, who seemed half-asleep—or rather, like she was ready to rip off her uniform and bolt out of the department store at any moment.
Was this a showroom? Either way, we were headed to see the merchandise.
She first led us to a deep plum-colored curtain, like the backdrop of a theater stage.
The sleepy clerk, as if suppressing an urge to abandon her job and flee into the city, slowly raised both hands and clapped a few times in a gesture reminiscent of a curtain call. The curtain parted gracefully—not too fast, not too slow—sliding smoothly to reveal a new space.
It was a jungle.
The department store's air-conditioned comfort gave way to an atmosphere beyond the curtain that was far denser, so humid it felt like being underwater, bursting forth from Tropical Night City's air.
The space was lush but not like a bright forest. It exuded the dark green, dense texture of a tropical rainforest untouched by sunlight.
The air was thick with the presence of jungle life, more pervasive than the particles themselves.
Sounds and sensations assaulted all five senses: chameleons, crocodiles, photo-sized fish, dinosaur-like birds, swarms of small rodents darting about, insects enveloping us like a desert sandstorm, colorful snakes and parrots squabbling, and monkeys with vibrant fur or tattoos dividing their territories.
The sheer volume of information entangled my CPU like jungle vines, overloading my transistors and forcing me to close my eyes.
When I opened them again, my system had adjusted to the humidity—or perhaps the humidity amplified the pixels—revealing the jungle's full scope with vivid clarity, as if soaking a damaged memory chip.
"The showroom," the clerk said, beckoning with an exaggeratedly languid voice that clashed with the jungle's vibrant atmosphere, stepping inside.
She first removed her shoes, going barefoot.
The ground was a thick, marshy mud, uninviting for anyone wearing shoes.
Jinri and I, having lost our clothes and shoes in the magma sea during the highway crash, were already barefoot and stepped in without issue.
As our bare feet sank into the marshy entrance, a pleasant sensation, like stepping into freshly made warm jelly, spread through our soles.
"Feels good!"
Jinri, clearly enjoying the texture, stomped lightly with both feet, savoring the mud with delight.
"This way, please."
We followed the clerk's back, advancing deeper inside.