Chapter 4

The doorbell rang. Naomi, still in the bathroom, called out: “Rionne-san, could you please see who it is?”

“Yes.” The elf opened the door. On the other side stood a girl dressed in skirt-and-boots gyaru style with blond-pinkish hair, red eyes, ram’s horns corkscrewing out of her temples, and enormous dragon wings — each one half-again as wide as she was tall. A succubus. “A fellow ‘immigrant’?”

The girl laughed heartily. “Yeah. And no. I’m a… well… Naomi-chan and I used to hate each other’s guts. Now we’ve grown a little.” She sniffed the air like a dog would. “She’s in the shower, right? Tell her Ayase Rumiko is here.”

The wizard let her eyes linger on Rumiko’s for a moment, then turned around and said in a loud voice, “It’s Ayase-san!”

“Let her in!” came the answer. “I’ll be out in a few!”

Rionne stood aside. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

The girl walked in and took off her shoes. She stood taller than Rionne but shorter than Naomi, and was very curvaceous — so much so that any further and she would border on overweight or vulgar. Indeed, to the elf she already did look vulgar.

If Rumiko registered the depth of Rionne’s scan, she did not show it. “How are you finding Tokyo and Japan?”

“Vertiginous. At times it boggles the mind. Though I admit it’s not a disagreeable place to find oneself marooned in.” Again an acute look. “Do you just prance through the streets like that?”

The succubus smirked. “You’re a spell slinger, right? Prove it.”

Rionne glared slightly at her, then started gesturing in strange positions and murmuring words in arcane languages. Her eyes glowed brightly for a second, then she examined Ayase closely, her brow furrowing slightly. “You bear wards. Expertly crafted ones.” She leaned in closer. “Without those…”

“I’d combust right away. This place isn’t really welcoming for people like me.”

The elf continued her examination. “But how do your wards… They cloud perception. Obfuscate your essence to some degree.” Her brow furrowed a little further. “I fail to understand why this prevents you from self-combusting. And why would you self-combust in the first place.”

Another smirk. “You’re a spell slinger alright. I’m not an expert about that brain-hurting stuff. All I know is that the magical paradigm here is very strict or something like that. Wanna know more, talk to the Fuyutsukis—they’re the closest thing I know to colleagues of yours.”

“I have heard that name for the second time now.”

“They helped me a couple times. Good people.”

Rionne refused to let go of the enigma. “What is the practical effect of your wards? How do they affect others? They obscure your essence to a point, but people still see all of your body.”

A shrug. “Beats me. People out there look at me and they think I’m just a hot girl. Or someone out of a cosplay contest.”

“A ‘cosplay contest’—that’s what we’re attending today.”

The succubus blinked. “She’s taking you to AnimeJapan? So that’s why you’re wearing that?”

Rionne’s brow twitched briefly. “This is my battle dress. Lots of performers will be wearing similar—costumes.” She had difficulty pronouncing that word.

Rumiko’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s your idea? I’d rather not guess wrong.”

“I intend to meet a storywright. Katsumasa Shinichiro.”

A slightly amazed gasp. “You want to meet…” Then she stopped herself. “I get it. Well, if you win the contest today, that should be easy.”

The elf nodded. “I don’t anticipate any challenges.”

Rumiko chuckled. “You might be surprised.”

“If you imply that the craftsmanship skills of other contestants should give me pause, fret not. I have a solution for that problem.” She again started chanting in a foreign tongue. When she was done, it was as if she had been transformed. Her braided hair now gleamed just the right way, not even a single stray strand escaping the immaculate hairdo. So did her violet eyes, now powerfully magnetic. The exquisite chain mail, as light as a cocktail dress, fell in graceful folds around her, its fine links creating a soft, perfectly timed swish. Even the faintest hint of her cleavage, mostly concealed by the plates of her chest armor, sparked a thrilling allure.

There was a hint of envy in the succubus’s voice. “That’s cheating.”

Rionne laughed quietly to herself. “It’s as I said. I have solutions.”

Rumiko kept her eyes on her. “You know, there’s a saying here. Something about how it’s dangerous to try resolving every problem with the same tool. You heard something like that back where you come from?”

The door to the bathroom opened, and Naomi walked out in her underwear. “Hey, Rumiko-chan. The saying is, ‘When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.’” She climbed the stairs to her room.

“Magic is not the only tool I have at my disposal.” Still, the wizard nodded. “You raise a fair point nonetheless.”

Their journey from Naomi’s home in Katsushika to the AnimeJapan venue required them to take the trains and make connections. When they debarked at Shimbashi Station to take the Yurikamome line, Rionne was finally overwhelmed. “Know very clearly it’s not an exaggeration on my part,” she mumbled as they left the train, “but the only place where I have seen this many people is a city that serves as a crossroads between realities.”

Rumiko stretched her arms pleasantly above her head. “Well, I wish I had met you sooner. You got a knack for finding seats.”

Inevitably, the succubus attracted looks. But so did Rionne herself. “That pedestrians ogle you is no surprise, but why are they looking at me?”

“Both of you are in costume,” was Naomi’s flat response.

“And they’re looking at you more than they look at me.” Ayase snickered. “Never thought I’d be one-upped by a skinny pointy-ears.”

A flash of irritation crossed the wizard’s face. “Don’t call me that.” Then she added, “I still fail to understand it.”

“There’s a social stigma attached to wearing cosplay in public,” the tall redhead explained. “And yours is flat-out impressive.”

“Of course it is. It’s genuine.”

“And that could be a problem.”

Naomi’s curt comment threw Rionne off balance. “A problem?”

“You want to attract attention, but not too much attention. That chain mail of yours is so fine it behaves like silk. I don’t think there’s anyone on this planet who can craft chain mail that good. And don’t get me started on your jewelry.”

Ayase was not smiling now. “I’m surprised you didn’t consider that.”

“I did, but I don’t have an answer. She wants to meet Katsumasa for a one-on-one talk. She can’t do it unless she impresses people enough.” A grimace. “Well, she could, but that would be eleven different flavors of unsubtle.” Naomi shook her head. “And this is not just some local festival, this is AnimeJapan we’re talking about. Amateurs don’t just win here. She will turn up out of the blue and leave world-class competitors in the dust. Fuck, I slipped big time! Why didn’t I see it?”

“You didn’t factor in her magic, probably.” The succubus pulled out her phone and started inspecting the contest schedule.

Rionne was listening closely. “Apologies. I am a person of many skills, but handling audiences is not one of them.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps I could dispel my enhancing charm.”

“For starters,” Naomi agreed, “but then you’ll be on more even ground. You stand a chance of not winning.”

The elf scoffed at this. “I find that very hard to believe.”

Naomi shook her head. “Wait and see.”

“Katsumasa will be part of a Q&A panel later today.” Rumiko turned her phone around to show them.

“That settles it,” the tall redhead decided. “Rionne-san, it would be best if you dispelled your charm then. If you don’t win any prizes at the contest, then you might get a second chance at the panel.”

The elf frowned. “What are you alluding to when you mention a ‘panel’?”

Ayase grinned. “A ‘panel’ is just some stuffy asses sitting behind a table, acting all high and mighty and answering questions from lowlifes like us.”

All the passengers arriving there were heading for the convention venue. The trio drew not a few looks as they made their way out of the station, which did little to alleviate Naomi’s uneasiness — and spotted more than a few people cosplaying as Rionne herself.

One of those cosplayers approached them. “Excuse me, miss… I, um… I love your work. Could I, er—take a picture?”

Rionne regarded the girl. She was shy, probably in her mid-teens, shorter and slightly heavier than the elf, clearly a beginner by the looks of her costume. And in awe of the wizard’s ‘work’.

Warmed by the girl’s bashfulness, she smiled at her. “Of course you can. Come here.”

Naomi played along. “Let me have your phone, I’ll take the picture.” Then she addressed the elf, “Unwrap your staff and get on guard. As if readying for a fight.”

Rionne glanced at her questioningly. Are you sure? She got a nod in response, so she did as Naomi suggested, handing the wrap to Rumiko. “This should be satisfying enough.”

The newbie cosplayer was almost floored. “You look so awesome!”

It was impossible not to blush, even for the elf. “Your kindness is appreciated. Why don’t you stand next to me?”

A small crowd gathered to look. That intimidated the girl some, and Rionne noticed it. “Pay them no heed,” she said commandingly. “A sorceress focuses on the task at hand. Not on distractions.”

Admiring smiles appeared on some of the spectating faces. The newbie cosplayer found inspiration in Rionne’s words. “You’re right!” She put on a determined expression and tried her best to ape the elf’s posture.

“There!” Naomi took several pictures, then returned the phone. “Surely you’ll find one or more that you like.”

The girl smiled broadly. “Thank you so much! Can I follow you?”

Naomi answered that on the spot. “Sorry, but Mion-san does not have social media.”

“Oh! Then… you won’t mind if I post this?” The girl blushed even further. “It’s the—the best. The best Rionne-sama I’ve seen. Ever.”

Rumiko hitched on. “We’ve been trying to convince Mion-san to open her own. Maybe you’ll be the one to persuade her.”

The elf shook her head with a soft smile. “I apologize, but I care for my privacy. I hope you will understand. But yes, feel free to share these pictures as you like.”

But the girl would not give up. “Are you her friends? Can I follow you? If she does other costumes, I’d love to know!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious. “Sure, you can follow me,” Naomi offered and gave the girl her profile.

The newbie cosplayer bowed her thanks, then addressed Rionne one last time. “If you ever get your own, I’d love to… well…”

It was impossible to stand unfazed by the girl’s earnestness. “If I do, you will know.”

Trying and failing to keep her embarrassment in check, the newbie bowed one last time and went on her way.

The trio followed suit after a few moments. Only when they had left the group of onlookers behind did Rionne speak. “I remain unconvinced by the pseudonym you picked, but I surmise it’s a futile concern now.”

As they left the station and walked through the park before the twin towers of Tokyo Big Sight, the looks multiplied, as did the requests for photos. Rionne found this unexpectedly intoxicating, and obliged gladly—

—until she came face to face with a girl clad in battle dress like her, but tattered and bloodstained. The naginata-like staff she carried was equally soiled. “Wow, your work is impressive! Could I take a couple pics?”

Rionne’s skin was very pale to begin with, but now she turned almost chalk white. By the corner of her eye, she saw Naomi was about to step in, but she eased her with an open hand. After a moment the elf composed herself. “Of course.”

She posed for the picture. Again a small crowd of spectators gathered, but this time their reaction was different, both awed by her ‘craftsmanship’ — and somewhat intimidated by her presence. Too late did Rionne realize her entire self was taut like a bowstring, her grip and posture ready to deliver a genuine and lethal strike.

Naomi’s phone rang with a text. Rumiko’s.

Maybe some traumatizing moment

The tall redhead clenched her jaw for a moment and bowed her head. This cosplayer was recreating an emblematic scene of the manga, so there was no escaping this moment and they knew it. Encounters with people cosplaying other characters would be as distressing or worse.

The cosplayer was oblivious to Rionne’s unease. “Your staff is incredible,” she gushed. “If my teacher saw it he would be drooling over it…” Then, a frown: “Wait, is that thing real?”

“The blade was custom made in aluminum,” Naomi answered smoothly. “Looks great, doesn’t it?”

“It must have costed you an arm and a leg,” was the admiring reply. “It looks scary.”

“It was certainly no bargain,” the elf answered, trying to ape Naomi’s adroitness. “Nor a simple object to craft.”

“Wow, you speak just like her, too. That’s some commitment.”

It took all of Rionne’s discipline not to react visibly to that. “My thanks. Your own craftsmanship is to be commended as well.”

The remainder of the encounter played out the same as that with the shy newbie: the cosplayer taking pictures, the request for social media, Naomi and Rumiko stating that ‘Mion’ did not have any. But after the cosplayer had left, Naomi told Rionne quietly, “You don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.”

The elf contemplated the crowds streaming towards the towers before them for some long seconds, then steeled herself. “I have to. I must know. This is what I came here for.”

Her escorts nodded. Rumiko pointed out in whispers, “That girl nailed one thing. Your staff won’t pass the security checkpoint. Not with a blade that cuts through concrete like it was butter.”

Rionne glanced at the blade of her staff. “That is sensible. Weapons do not belong in festivals. And this one was soaked in divine blood, it certainly treats most matter as an afterthought. But I have an idea for this.” She held her staff horizontally, then spoke some words in a low voice, tracing some sigils with her long fingernails on the blade. The symbols flashed for an instant, then the blade took on a cardboard-and-tinfoil look.

Rumiko said quietly to Rionne, “I saw that cosplayer touched some really sensitive spots right there, so… anything you feel like sharing, we’re here.”

A nod. “Her costume evoked one of the most desperate stands in my life. One of many battles fought over a place called the Ashen Graves. It was tough. If not for my magic skills, I would still bear all the scars from that clash.”

Naomi did not react visibly. “What did you fight?”

Rionne closed her eyes. “An avatar of Rokyyr, the Endless Thirst. Dragon god of slaughter.”

The redhead blinked — and the succubus let out an amazed gasp. But neither commented on it. Instead, Naomi repeated, “If you want to stay, we stay. But the moment you decide we have to go, we’re leaving.”

But the wizard’s weakness had passed. “Your thoughtfulness will not be forgotten.”