With their misunderstanding now fully behind them, Kai now treated his visit like he did any other hangout at a friend’s house. When he asked to see Kotobuki’s cosplay collection, she obliged and led him to her walk-in closet. What awaited him was a spectacular display of dozens of costumes hung on the closet’s racks.
“And your mother made all of these?”
“Of course,” boasted Kotobuki. She puffed out her chest, which was still sporting four pads beneath her Hestia costume. She must have been proud of her mom. As an otaku, Kai could understand. He was even jealous.
One by one, Kai asked for permission to look at each costume before delicately taking down its hanger and examining it. They were clearly handmade; Kai could tell that each one was a perfect fit for Kotobuki’s frame.
“A lot of these are from some old anime.”
“That they are. Some costumes were requests from me after I got into a show during its airing, and some were costumes my mother made me wear when she got into a show.”
Now that’s what I call a head start.
“Could this one be...from Oreshura?”
“Yes, that’s the Hanenoyama High uniform. Uniform costumes are difficult to tell apart, but I should have known you’d be able to identify it. For a six-year-old anime, at that.”
“Actually, I only watched it pretty recently.” Kai was in the later grades of elementary school at the time it aired. He was often made fun of by the classroom jerks for watching “cutesy” anime, so he resisted watching it back then. Looking back, he realized he’d been an idiot and deeply regretted not committing to his hobbies, but that was a delicate age. In recent years, he read the acclaimed series 29 to JK and loved it, causing him to dig through the back catalog of its author, Yuuji Yuuji. He loved Oreshura and Renesickle and even rented the Blu-rays for Oreshura’s anime adaptation. He was definitely on a Yuuji Yuuji kick for a while.
Kotobuki wistfully stroked the Hanenoyama High uniform. “I was in fourth grade at the time, but my mother and I got hooked on the show together.”
“I can understand why. Masuzu’s the best. JoJo references are a good brand of cuteness.”
“Pardon? Surely you mean Chiwawa.”
For a moment, sparks flew as Kai and Kotobuki glared at each other.
“Well, I can certainly understand where you’re coming from. You were in fourth grade when you watched it, no? Chiwawa has the cuteness of a small, fuzzy animal, and kids love that stuff.”
“Excuse me? I was mature for my age, so I could fully appreciate Misuzu’s annoying cuteness. I merely state that even compared to her, Chiwawa proves victorious.”
“Ha ha, surely you jest. Had you been in the main character’s shoes, Oreshura’s quality would undoubtedly have suffered for it.”
“Tee hee, perhaps you should limit your jokes to your haircut. Are you not ashamed to spew these ignorant lunacies with such misplaced confidence? You should beg Yuuji Yuuji to forgive you for failing to realize that the story was written with Chiwawa in mind as the primary love interest.”
“Ha ha ha.”
“Tee hee hee.”
Neither was willing to yield their position on the battlefield they found themselves upon and instead smiled as they traded blows with their glares. Still, continuing this war would only end in a stalemate, so Kai returned the Hanenoyama uniform back to its rack. Well, not quite; he had one realization as he was about to hang it up.
“You had this costume made for you back when the show aired, correct?”
“Yes, what of it?”
“If I’m not mistaken, it seems like it would still be able to fit you...”
Kotobuki’s eyes suddenly darted away. Must be unfortunate.
But now that I’ve noticed it, it just doesn’t feel right, thought Kai as he looked over the dozens of hanging costumes in horror. Every costume was the same size. Kai could barely fit into the clothes he wore a year ago, much less what he wore six years ago. After bearing the weight of Kai’s continued gaze, Kotobuki crumbled and came clean in a shaking voice.
“The truth is...I was a very tall child when I was younger. I was always last in line in elementary school, and my relatives frequently joked that I’d become a model or win the Ms. Sakata pageant...”
“But then you stopped growing...when you were merely in fourth grade...”
“By all means, laugh if you will!”
“I would never!” argued Kai, not telling a single lie. “Kotobuki, you’re cute as you are!”
“Th-Thank you very much,” said Kotobuki as she smiled bashfully and fidgeted around.
“Besides, you’re the one who said that slender bodies were better suited to cosplaying!”
“...You wish to say my chest hasn’t grown either, don’t you? Not that I can deny it...”
Her smile vanished in a moment. She then sulked and muttered that she shouldn’t have picked Hestia, giving Kai another question to ask.
“By the way, why did you choose Hestia?”
All the costumes he’d seen so far had been made for her during the airings of shows she enjoyed, but DanMachi wasn’t airing now. Its long-awaited second season wouldn’t begin for another two months. That meant that this costume had to have been made during the first season’s airing four years ago. He assumed there had to be a motivation for her to pull out this costume of all possibilities.
“It was by coincidence. I mean, there was no particular reason it had to be Hestia...”
“No reason at all?”
“But I needed to take a large amount of cosplay photos...”
“Meaning?”
“Please, look at this.”
Kotobuki retrieved a brand-new tablet from her desk. Come to think of it, Kotobuki had said she was saving up her wages to purchase one. After a few taps here and there, Kotobuki pulled up an image and showed it to Kai. It seemed to be an advertisement, or maybe a pamphlet? The headline read “1st Annual Sakata Cosplay Festival” and below it were photos of downright gorgeous men and women in high-level cosplays.
“I’ve never heard of this event,” said Kai. If he knew such a cool festival was going to happen in his hometown, neither he nor Jun would miss it for the world.
“It’s only natural that you wouldn’t. This event is still in the planning stages.”
“My my. Then may I ask why you know of it, Kotobuki?”
“Because my father and some relatives are working with the city to put it together.”
“My my! Could I trouble you for the details?”
“But of course,” said Kotobuki. She was only too eager to explain.
After the war, the Hotei family made their livelihood as wholesalers. The main house had already earned some fame in Sakata City by being a common location for city council meetings. But the tides of time can be cruel, and the growing criticism of the apparel industry made its mark on the Hoteis as well. With their survival on the line, the family’s current generation was willing to try anything and see what stuck.
The market that caught the eye of Kotobuki’s father (an executive in the family business) was cosplay manufacturing. Despite its growing fame and attention, it was hard to say that one could find many places to enjoy cosplay or buy supplies for crafting costumes outside of Tokyo. That meant that there was a business opportunity. They wanted to recreate the success of Nippori Fabric Town here in Sakata City!
They settled on whetting the city’s appetite by establishing a cosplay event as the first step of their plan. They’d also make an environment that could support cosplaying activities, thereby increasing the amount of potential customers. Once that was set up, the Hoteis could profit by having cosplayers purchase cosplay-related goods they planned to market. Or maybe they could offer classes in cosplay sewing techniques and nourish a DIY cosplay culture.
And all this was happening while Kai was none the wiser.
“I had no idea you were high society, Kotobuki.”