Fierce Maiden

“What do I say to him, though?” Emily groaned in frustration, struggling to keep up with Rebecca’s longer stride. The pair were now journeying on foot across the walkways and pedestrian thoroughfares of the city—they would be at AnimeCon soon, and even after two hours of discussing it, Emily still had no clue what she was going to do.

“I think you should just tell him how you feel!” Rebecca answered in a sing-song voice. It was the fourth or fifth time she’d answered the same question just since they’d parked the car, and the same answer she’d given in patient repetition throughout the duration of their drive towards the convention.

“Yeah I get that, but what do I say?!” Emily mumbled. “What if this was you? What would you say to him?”

Emily was getting increasingly apprehensive about all of this. They’d been forced to park almost a mile out from the convention center—this was the busy day of the con, after all—the curbside spaces along the streets were long since packed with vehicles, and all of the nearby parking garages were already filled to capacity. They’d even tried to swing through the lot at the hotel Brian stayed at every year, only to find that every parking space there was occupied as well. Emily texted Brian, as he’d asked them to—but received no response. Which, of course, only served to make her even more anxious.

We ARE a lot earlier than Brian expected though, after all... Emily thought, glancing down at her phone again to see if he’d answered her. Just in case. I’m sure everything’s fine. Right?

“What would I say to him?” Rebecca sleepily pursed her lips in thought. “Hmm…”

The girls had hurried along the downtown city sidewalks towards AnimeCon for almost sixteen whole blocks, far out enough from the convention that they’d drawn their share of stares and curiosity for their outlandish attire. Emily was dressed in the borderline scandalous Akane Kurokawa ninja cosplay, while Rebecca wore her LARPing outfit, looking rather valiant in a Viking tunic with foam weapons dangling from her belt and a round shield fastened to her back. The closer they got to the con, the more the two blended in—there were cosplayers all over the place here, and Emily couldn’t help but nervously scan the crowds for any potential glimpse of Brian.

“Brian,” Rebecca recited with a theatrical flourish of her sleeve. “You are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky—I dwell in darkness without you! Your power has enchanted me, and I stand helpless against it! Tonight, let me worship you in my arms! I love you!”

“Rebeccaaaa!” Emily growled. “I’m being serious! Wait, though—he does love goofy quotes, doesn’t he? Would that actually work?”

“...Maybe?” Rebecca sounded more hopeful than optimistic.

“Uggghh,” Emily griped, and she’d opened her mouth to continue when without warning a spill of blue light seemed to slide down through her mind. She blinked, pausing midstep, and then glanced to her left down a narrow, empty access road that cut between the buildings of the city block.

“Here, let’s cut through this way. Shortcut! I think?”

“Umm…” Rebecca hesitated. “I don’t know that we’re allowed to go that way?”

“It’s way faster though, isn’t it?” Emily decided to follow her intuition and headed inside. It seemed to be deserted, as all she could see were occasional dumpsters and discarded piles of wooden pallets. “If we go through here, won’t the convention center be like, right around the corner just a ways?”

“Emily…” Rebecca weakly protested. “The sign says ‘No Admittance—”

“HELP!” A girl’s scream, pitched with fear, echoed down the narrow confines of the alleyway.

Emily jolted in surprise, shared a quick glance with Rebecca, and then together they burst into a sprint down the narrow drive between buildings. In a matter of yards, Rebecca was already pulling ahead and completely outpacing her, her tangle of coppery hair swaying wildly behind her. Though she liked to think of herself as quick and spritely, Emily realized in dismay after just a few dozen feet that she wasn’t in as great of shape as she wanted to pretend.

Good thing we’re... close by? Emily mind raced with tense possibilities as she huffed and puffed, struggling to breathe. She’d jammed her phone into the little shinobi weapon pouch, and it was awkward trying to hold the bouncing thing tight against her as she plodded along. Maybe? I hope?

Racing almost the distance of a full city block towards that distant cry for help in a growing alarm, Emily had no time to gather her thoughts. When she followed Rebecca to round one of the dumpsters—they discovered two shady-looking guys were trying to yank a pretty pink-haired cosplayer into a doorway off to the side. One of the men was pulling both wrists as the girl tried to brace her feet and lean back away from him, while another, larger man had her by the shoulders, trying to topple her off balance and scoop her off her feet.

The look on the girl’s face was that of pure terror.

This— Emily thought, freezing up as her mind drew a total blank on what to do in this situation. This can’t be happening.

“Emily—stay back,” Rebecca instructed, and she leapt into the fray before Emily could even begin to react. The would-be-abductors had only just turned to register their presence when the tunic-clad young woman lunged and swept the edge of her LARPing shield through the air and caught the taller man right in the face. He swore, stumbling backwards and off-balance.

“Hey, what the fuck, yo?” The shorter one cried out with an angry scowl. “Fuck outta here, this ain’t none o’ your business, crazy fuckin’ bitch!”

“He-help—HELP ME!” The girl squealed out, thrashing in blind panic against the pull of the other man.

Seeing that the other creep was still unwilling to let go of the cosplayer’s wrists, Rebecca yanked her foam-padded axe out of the loop on her belt with a curt, well-practiced motion and spun the weapon in her hand so that the axe-head was facing her. Then she struck down, hard, a painful-sounding thwack echoing down the enclosure as it hit the man’s arm. He yelped and let go of the cosplayer, and both of them tumbled to the ground away from each other.

Unlike the soft striking-surface of the axe blade, Emily knew the backside of Rebecca’s boffer-style weapon was covered with only a thin layer of what she called ‘courtesy padding.’ While designed with safety in mind so that accidents didn’t cause lasting injuries such as broken arms, the wrong end of a Daegonhir padded weapon could still—and often did—smash noses, break fingers, and leave behind hideously painful bruises.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Emily finally came to her senses and grabbed the red-gloved hand of the hysterical pink-haired cosplayer, yanking her up, onto her feet, and back away from the fight towards safety. Adrenaline and fear were coursing through her, her side was cramping into an awful side-stitch from the extended sprint down the access road, and Emily was almost completely out of breath.

This end should be close to the convention! Emily whirled, looking back with indecision and terror as her friend faced off two grown men. But, we can’t just leave Rebecca—!

“Aggh, fuck!” the tall man swore, clutching his nose with one hand and rushing at the medieval-garbed girl who’d suddenly assaulted him.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” the other charged in as well, grabbing a hand on either side of her shield.

Unfortunately for them, Rebecca—no, Mara Thorferra, the Nightmare, was in her element. Compared to being trapped in the crush between opposing armies’ shield walls in a field battle, where Emily had seen everyone shoving and pulling padded eight-foot spears and slamming glaives at Mara from every direction… two single opponents were not enough to pressure her friend. Not while Mara had her familiar gear, at least.

Mara stepped in to thrust her axe deep into the larger man’s gut, and then withdrew it with a deft flick of her wrist that also smacked his extended and reaching hand out wide. Lowering her center of gravity, she slightly relaxed her shield-arm, allowing the grappling second man to pull it down several handspans, and then she expertly yanked it back up, clipping him beneath the chin.

Out of reflex more than anything, she followed up by flashing out with a kick, her leather Viking-style toggle boot rising up and landing squarely on his chest to send the man sprawling. Mara was used to doing that as an unsubtle hint to less-experienced Daegonhir and SCE fighters—she’d confided in Emily that she hated when fighters tried to wrestle her good equipment away with their grubby hands. Thankfully, there were few foolhardy enough to attempt it more than once.

“Wanna back off?” She asked, pointing her weapon at the face of the one still standing in warning. He wasn’t clutching his nose anymore, but he was still slightly doubled-over and winded from the punch to the gut he’d taken from that axe.

“You’re fuckin’ dead, bitch,” the man hissed, still advancing, and made to snatch the axe from her.

As Mara Thorferra, however, Rebecca was not so easily disarmed. The weapon she’d been feinting out for his grab seemed to vanish away from his grasping hand, reappearing to bash him upside his face hard enough to tilt his head back and send him staggering. She struck him again across the cheek as he tried to take another step forward, and circled cautiously back away from the men to keep herself between them and the girls.

“She okay?” Mara called out.

“Uh,” Emily said, quickly looking from the pink-haired girl to Rebecca and back again. “Y-yeah. I think?”

“Let’s go,” Mara decided, taking careful steps backward without taking her eyes off the two opponents. “Go!”

“You fuckin’ cunt!” the smaller one yelled as he scrambled back to his feet. Both the men started forward.

“Go, go!” The three girls ran, skirting piles of pallets and dumpsters and after several long moments breaking out of the access road and onto the proper city sidewalks again. Still gasping and panting with exertion from the long run, Emily felt herself already starting to lurch to a stop, but Rebecca urged them on further, nervously watching the mouth of the access road behind them for any sign of pursuit.

“Let’s get to where it’s a little more crowded,” Rebecca insisted, still not out of breath at all. She kept them going until they were at the plaza in front of the convention center before allowing them to drop down onto one of the long benches beside the walkways there.

“I can—I can’t,” Emily huffed, unable to finish sentences. “Sorry.”

“Hey,” Rebecca asked the trembling girl they’d just rescued. Gently putting her hand on the girl’s cheek, she tilted her face up so she could see her. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you anywhere? What happened?”

“I…” The girl stammered, fingers working at her wrists, “I don’t know what happened! Th-they tried, they tried pulling me into that building… I-I think I went the wrong way?”

“Are you okay?” Rebecca asked again. “Did they hurt you anywhere?”

“N-no, no,” She looked down at her hands in shock and then back up. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re here for AnimeCon, right?” Emily asked, trying to pull her Akane Kurokawa yukata back into some semblance of order. “The hell were you doing alone in the alley like that? Are you crazy?”

When Rebecca turned a cool stare in Emily’s direction, she found herself looking away in embarrassment.

“I… I went the wrong way,” The cosplayer said, trying to wipe her eyes. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay—you’re okay. Where were you trying to go?” Emily opened her top slightly to make sure her pasties were still in place. “Ah… fuck.” They weren’t. One was still sticking, but out of place, to the underside of her boob, and the other one was… completely gone somehow. She felt clammy with sudden sweat and her heart was still racing.

Definitely not an outfit made for running in. Oh well, I guess?

“I... I was supposed to meet a friend of mine, he was g-getting things for a panel,” The pink-haired girl explained nervously. “I was told to—to go around the convention center, to where, um, where there were loading docks. I-I maybe just went the wrong way?”

“Sounds like you’ve been had,” Emily said with a quiet curse, doubling over and tenderly picking through her body stocking in search of where the other pastie had slipped down to. “I mean, you’d go in circles ‘round the center all day and not find anything—the loading docks are underground. They have a sublevel for that.”

“....Oh,” The girl breathed, slumping down a bit in confusion. “Sorry. I, um. I didn’t know that.”

Fuck it, Emily gave up and straightened, mildly annoyed. Probably find the pastie halfway down my boot later, or something. I’ll just... fuck, I’ll just be careful not to flash anyone.

Finally having a moment to catch her breath and collect herself, Emily took a closer look at their new companion. She was a slim girl, only a few inches taller than her, wearing a bright pink-and red costume sundress that Emily didn’t recognize. Thigh-high red boots and long red gloves, exposed thighs and shoulders, and to top it all off—brilliantly dyed pink hair, shoulder-length and fluffy. Add in that tiny bit of eyeliner smudged with tears visible beneath a plain pair of glasses, and everything about this chick looked innocent, cute, and vulnerable.

“You’re aware of what was happening, right?” Rebecca asked, crouching down beside her. “They were either going to abduct you, or rape you. Are you really okay?”

“I-I…” the girl tried, but her eyes filled with tears again and she looked down and shook her head from side to side. “No. I am… I am not okay.”

“Do you have somewhere safe we can take you?” Emily asked, keeping a hand over her yukata to pinch it shut. “Someone you can call? I mean, uh, are you here with someone, do you have friends here?”

“I… I don’t think so,” she said, flustered. “I have—I, um, the girl I came with, her phone isn’t charging, and the other… the other girl I know, I don’t have her number. I just realized. Hah.”

“What panel was your friend getting things for?” Emily asked. “Maybe she’s still there, or they’re looking for you, or... something.”

“It was…” the girl began, before seeming to realize something. “Actually. I don’t know where he is now. B-but, I know he’s supposed to meet up in the main lobby for something at noon?”

Noon—wasn’t Brian’s Hero Hero Haruhi thing supposed to be somewhere around that time?

“Only…” Emily slipped her phone out from the pouch for her throwing stars and unlocked it. “What, twenty minutes away? How ‘bout we bring you over there? Shit. We don’t have our badges yet, though.”

“I-I’m fine,” the pink-haired girl said weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be okay, now. You don’t have to—to go out of your way for me. Th-thank you so much, for—for saving me. If you guys hadn’t been there…”

“Are you going to file a police report?” Rebecca asked slowly. “Or, do you want to talk to convention security?”

“Um. I. I wouldn’t even know what to—”

“Let’s start with security,” Emily proposed. “They should have a kiosk in the main lobby, anyways. They did last year. Sound good? Hey, what’s your name, anyways?”

“I’m… Stephanie.”

“I’m Emily!” The short Hispanic girl offered her an awkward handshake, still holding her costume closed over her small chest with the other hand. “Nice to meetcha! At anime conventions, I go by Cerulean—my page is ‘Cerulean Cosplay.’ Annnnd, our amazing heroine right here is Mara Thorferra! She LARPs. Obviously.”

“Hi,” Rebecca gave her a sigh and an affable wave, slowly slipping out of her stern Mara persona and back to her usual listless, sleepy-looking expression.

“Y-you really were amazing,” Stephanie admitted. “I never thought that, um, that I would see something like that, in, in real life.”

“We got lucky,” Rebecca waved off the praise. “That was really dangerous.”

“Don’t let her fool you, Stephie,” Emily smirked. “If she’d had a real axe, botha those guys woulda been nothin’ but bloody chunks in like, an instant.”

“Stop that,” Rebecca slapped at Emily’s shoulder and gave her friend a semi-serious frown. “She’s just had an ordeal. Don’t go saying scary things!”

“Sorry,” Emily apologized with a sheepish grin. “But, you believe me, right? She’s like, amazing.”

“She is,” Stephanie nodded earnestly. “You are. You’re amazing. Thank you so much. I…I—”

“We were just lucky,” Rebecca insisted, wrapping the pink-haired girl in a quick hug. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

“Yeah, well, whatever,” Emily chattered away. “But, hey! You know what they say about luck, right?”

“Okay. So, two white or possibly Hispanic men, appeared to be between the ages of twenty and thirty. They harassed you, and then tried to pull you into a nearby building. This happened partway down the service road running between the convention center and the streetfront of seventeenth avenue—you weren’t able to tell how far down the service road it was, and you weren’t able to tell which property they were trying to bring you into. Does all of that sound correct?”

“Y-yes,” Stephanie stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” the head of security, who’d introduced himself as Mr. Gary said, checking her story over on his tablet device one last time. “This’ll be forwarded over to the local precinct within the hour. From my experience, they’ll at the very least, station an officer at this end of the service road to keep an eye on things. For the rest of the day, maybe the rest of the weekend. You girls stay safe, and stay out of trouble.”

The stout older man shook their hands one by one and was off on other business. For some reason, Stephanie had expected security to be unprofessional, some volunteer college-age AnimeCon staffer—but instead the sprawling convention center itself had a fixed security team stationed there. Mr. Gary took them very seriously and asked all of the relevant questions, without doubting their words or ever even chastising them for being in that alleyway alone.

“That... wasn’t so bad,” Emily let out a slow breath, looking at Stephanie with concern. “Right?”

The three girls were sitting along the edge of one of the long planters on one side of the main lobby, just across from a small security kiosk that’d been paired with the weapons check table for cosplay props. As noon neared, the area was bustling with activity, with the majority of AnimeCon attendees streaming into the vendors’ room, though dozens of cosplayers everywhere were getting stopped to get their photos taken at any given moment. Friends were huddled into groups chatting, and occasionally anime fans would walk by carrying food from the nearby concession stands. Stephanie’s attention, however, was far from any of these things.

“Right,” Stephanie nodded distractedly. “Thank you, um, for staying with me for that. You guys didn’t have to.”

“No, we were involved, too,” Mara dutifully shook her head. “Besides! I needed to get bands for my sword and axe here.”

Stephanie glanced at the bright yellow bands now tied around the hilts of the girl’s weapons in amusement. It seemed like the staffer pronounced the foam weapons perfectly safe a little too easily, considering she had been bashing away at would-be attackers with them some fifteen minutes earlier. The warrior girl’s short friend—Emily—had little plastic throwing stars, but all she’d had to do was show the staffer at weapons check they were sewn securely into the loops of her shinobi costume.

“I, uh… I did notice you just left out the bits of the story where she like, immediately assaulted them,” Emily laughed awkwardly. “Thank you for that. I think that would’ve… complicated that whole talk just now, for us. A bit.”

“You didn’t have to leave anything out,” Mara sighed, swatting at her friend. “I was prepared to take responsibility for everything I did. I didn’t do anything I’d be afraid to justify to anyone.”

“You didn’t!” Stephanie said quickly, waving her hands. “I, I just, um. I didn’t want it to sound bad, at all, because… you really saved me. Thank you again—thank you so much.”

“I’m glad we were there to help,” Mara said, smooshing the shorter girl into another comforting hug.

“Yeah!” Emily gave Stephanie a cheeky grin. “Plus, Mr. Gary gave us these.” She fanned out the three laminated single-day badges for AnimeCon in her hand. They didn’t have lanyards, but all the same they saved the girls together the twenty-five dollars each in buying passes for themselves.

“You sure you don’t want one of these?” Mara asked Stephanie.

“N-no, but thank you,” Stephanie shook her head. “I don’t know anyone who would need one…”

“Just pick some cute guy right outta line, and give it to him,” Emily suggested, waggling one of the passes.

“Th-that’s okay,” Stephanie said, her expression turning bleak again. “No thank you.”

“Well… alright,” Emily said, sharing a worried look with Mara. “You sure you’re gonna be okay by yourself?”

“I’m… um, well, no,” Stephanie admitted, giving them a weak smile. “But, I, uh, my friends might be here soon. I think. So… it’s okay. I should be okay.”

“If you’re sure,” Mara said, swiping through her phone and then turning it towards Stephanie. “Then, this is my number. I’m going to be upstairs in the Atrium for the rest of the day, with the Order of the Sovereign Swords. Call me if you need anything, my phone will be with one of the Order Councillors—someone’ll get it to me if you ask for Mara. Or, you can come visit me there, anytime.”

“Th-thank you,” Stephanie blustered, quickly entering the girl’s number into her own phone. I’m making more friends here then I ever did on campus. Oh, her real name’s Rebecca Smith? Rebecca—why does that seem so... familiar…?

“It was nice meeting you,” Emily said. “I’m gonna be running ‘round the whole damn convention looking for this stupid sexy jerk-face who won’t answer his phone! Sooo, maybe we’ll run into each other again? Who knows?”

“Ah, um, your—” Stephanie coughed awkwardly and pointed. Emily’s yukata had opened to reveal a small breast, covered only by the sheer black fishnet of her body stocking.

“Shit, this is gonna be one of them days,” Emily swore, tugging it closed again.

“Bye, Stephanie,” Rebecca rolled her eyes, heading towards the escalators for the upper level. “Bye, Emily.”

“Goodbye!” Stephanie waved.

“Knock ‘em dead, Mara!” Emily shouted over to her departing friend. The short Latina then turned to flash Stephanie a parting grin, pinching her yukata closed with one hand and throwing the other in a goofy thumbs-up, elbow jutting out in the air. “Later, Stephie!”

That is…! Dumbfounded, Stephanie’s mouth fell open as she watched Emily trot off into the vendor’s room. That was BRIAN’S Emily…?! Of course she is, she’s even dressed as Akane Kurokawa! I, I just… she’s nothing at all like I pictured her! And, Mara’s real name was Rebecca! How did I not immediately connect all of that?!

Feeling her throat tighten again, she looked down at her phone in dismay and the urge to chase after Emily faded away. With a slightly trembling finger, she swiped from her address book over to the last message from Brian and silently stared at it once more.

Don’t ever fucking talk to me

Blocking you now

Seeing the words stunned her all over again, and a desperate, hollow feeling drained the sliver of remaining spirit out of her. Where a pink flame of life and love had flickered before, now the inside of her mind felt like barren ashes and desolate cold. Why would he say that? What happened? What did I do wrong, how—how did I mess this up?

Feeling knots of anxiety tighten throughout her, Stephanie hunched her shoulders and fought the urge to rock back and forth in place in a manic, crazy way. She didn’t know if even Kelly could fix this, this issue that was beyond her understanding, but she hoped that someone would at least be able to explain what had happened— what went wrong. I still can’t even comprehend what… was I just blinded by my feelings for him and missing all sorts of big, obvious signs? Was this… this love of mine, actually completely one-sided, this whole time?

It was almost noon already, and Darkmask soldiers were beginning to appear in the main lobby, occasionally travelling with a caped superhero she guessed must be a part of Hero Hero Haruki. Torn between her need for answers and her absolute fear of meeting Brian again and facing rejection in-person, Stephanie picked herself up from the edge of the planter and fled to the corner of the lobby, back out of the way and behind groups of people where she wouldn’t be as easy to notice.

The Darkmasks were by far the most prevalent and popular of all the costumes arriving at the gathering, but none of them looked anything like Brian. Rather than having a molded plastic skull helmet or even the protruding pouches of a utility belt along their waists, all of the details she could see seemed to have been printed directly onto zentai-suits. These were skintight lycra or spandex fabric bodysuits that covered them from head-to-toe, the thin line of a zipper running from the back of their necks down to the small of their backs. The zentai suits looked… cheap, like they’d all been mass-produced together and bought from the same novelty store, but each of them additionally wore ‘Darkmask disguises’ atop the suits, so the overall cosplays didn’t seem quite as lackluster as they would have otherwise.

One of the minions wore denim overalls and a straw hat over his Darkmask zentai-suit, and even had a stalk of wheat pinched in the fabric about where his mouth would be. Another, obviously a guy beneath the stretchable fabric of his suit, was wearing a woman’s wig and a flowery dress, while carrying a lifesize baby toy which likewise had it’s plastic face made up to look like the stylized skull of a Darkmask. All but one or two of them carried some sort of flimsy disguise on top of their Darkmask getups, and from where she stood Stephanie could see one in a convenience store clerk’s apron and visor, one in a doctor’s labcoat and stethoscope, and several in stereotypical Japanese schoolgirl uniforms.

The heroes and villains wore capes and helmets, showed cleavage or muscles, and some carried enormous prop weapons—but they remained a minority, seven or eight against the twenty-five or so Darkmasks. But, no sign of…

...Brian? Looking back and forth, Stephanie finally caught sight of a Darkmask wearing a molded plastic mask approaching the group. She froze in place, staring... but something was off—this wasn’t Brian. The costume was just as detailed and accurate as Brian’s, but he was a hair shorter, and his shoulders not quite as broad. He didn’t move quite like Brian, and after the brief initial moment had passed, Stephanie wondered how she’d ever begun to mistake them. He wasn’t even carrying a Komari-mart bag.

It hasn’t been that long, and already… I really miss him, Stephanie thought to herself as her shoulders sagged, and the Hero Hero Haruki gathering shimmered and distorted as her eyes began to water. She’d felt so safe with him, like she’d finally found the place she belonged in the world. I’m so hopeless. Everything going back to the way it was before… shouldn’t be this painful. I taste just this tiny bit of another life, with friends, or lovers? With ADVENTURE, and I want so much more.

Stephanie was wistfully beginning to let tears roll down her cheeks when someone abruptly slapped her butt, momentarily flipping the back of her dress up. Reeling, Stephanie spun around in fear to discover—

“Hey there, Flami-fluff,” Kelly snickered. “Where’s Brian? I’ve got great news, I mighta found a buyer for… shit, Stephanie! What’s wrong? What happened? Steph?”

“I… I…” Stephanie choked on her words, fearfully fidgeting and unable to meet Kelly’s eyes. “I messed up…”

“Stephanie. What the fuck happened?” Kelly demanded, taking the pink-haired girl by the shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”

“I, um,” Stephanie managed. “Everything… seemed to be going fine, b-but then, I was, I was waiting for him outside the gaming room and—and, someone came and told me he asked me to meet Brian, outside.”

“Outside? What do you mean?” Kelly frowned. “Who came and asked?”

“M-maybe not outside,” Stephanie breathed. “Downstairs? Underground. I was supposed to find him at the loading docks. It was a girl, a girl dressed up like—like Magical Doll Himari. She asked if I knew Brian, an-and told me I was supposed to go and meet him.

“I… went out and around the building, and I, um, I couldn’t find where I was supposed to go, so I sent him a message, and he said… this…” Stephanie reopened the text and held her phone up for Kelly. “Then some, um, these guys, they tried to pull me into this building, and… these girls—I actually think it was Brian’s friends Emily and Rebecca—they saved me. Th-there was a fight.”

“Guys tried to pull you into a building? Brian said ‘don’t ever fucking talk to me?’” Kelly asked in confusion and disbelief. “Pull up his number. I’m going to call him from my phone.”

“O-okay,” Stephanie agreed.

“Who told you to go to the loading docks?” Kelly demanded, inputting Brian’s number into her address book. “Here, gimme your number, too.”

“It was, uh, this—Magical Doll Himari. She’s, um. She wears a school uniform as a battle outfit, and, she has these big, really big pig-tails in these… spiral shapes, and—”

“...Is that her?” Kelly pointed across the lobby.

“Yes, that’s a Himari. Th-that’s her,” Stephanie squeaked in surprise, covering her mouth. “That’s the same Himari—the exact same girl!”

“Yeah... looks like you’re not the only one scoping out the Darkmask meetup from a distance. But, we’ll get to her,” Kelly said coldly as she dialed Brian. As both of the girls were still curiously glancing in the Himari girl’s direction, both Kelly and Stephanie were startled to see… that across the lobby, the Magical Doll cosplayer reacted to her phone at the same time.

“You... don’t think that…?” Stephanie whispered anxiously.

The distant Himari cosplayer’s smile quirked into a smirk, and she tapped the screen with a finger. At the same moment, Kelly’s attempted call was rejected.

“You know, yeah, I kinda do,” Kelly growled, her eyes narrowing in anger. “That cunt has Brian’s phone somehow.”