My Circle's Day Isn't Going As Planned.

"Whoa! It's the gaming hall!" Ayame's eyes light up as she takes in our surroundings.

In the massive room that we've just walked into, dozens of people are running to and fro between large booths with logos plastered all over them. We're not in the amateur section of Comiket anymore. There are huge TV screens showing characters, cardboard cutouts everywhere, staffers lining up free T-shirts and hats, even consoles and gaming chairs set out, presumably for you to use- every booth is trying to one-up its neighbor.

As we walk down the center aisle along with a few others who have decided to visit the exhibits before the general public gets let in, Ayame whips her head from side to side to marvel at all the booths, looking like an excited puppy.

"That one looks cool." I haven't played games in years, and I'm hardly interested in gacha games with anime-style characters, but one of the booths, colored bright red with cardboard cutouts of what seems like a hundred characters surrounding it, is showing a demo video with some of their gameplay on a TV. Even though the costume of the character on the screen seems a little much for my tastes, he's using a bunch of stylish, fast-paced attacks to destroy the enemies. I might have fun playing this game.

As I approach the booth, Ayame's voice stops me. "You know that game's Chinese, right?"

I turn around, giving a look of confusion back to her suddenly serious face. "Why does that matter?"

She's marching right toward me. "It's because they use Japanese aesthetics in their game! It might seem okay from a surface-level perspective, when you look at it briefly, but when you really start thinking about it, everything's subtly wrong! It's like when foreigners try to write stories set in Japan- it may seem okay when you're just skimming through it, but when you sit down to read it, it's clear that the creators have no idea what Japan and Japanese people are actually like!"

"...This is a strange thing for you to get nationalistic about."

"It's because I support the Japanese gaming industry and Japanese-made games, like this one!" Going over to the next booth, Ayame poses beside a cardboard cutout of a very young-looking girl in a school uniform toting a massive sniper rifle. Her outfit is revealing a lot of skin.

If this is what the Japanese gaming industry stands for, I, for one, welcome the future Chinese takeover.

"See, Haru-kun? Only the Yamato people would be able to come up with simultaneously adorable and strong characters like-" Ayame suddenly stops and bends down in a squat, peering intently at the bottom of the cardboard cutout. She sits in that position for a few seconds before standing up and trudging back over to me with a shell-shocked expression, like she's just seen one of her war comrades get blown apart in the trenches. She doesn't speak for what seems like ages.

"What's up with you?" I take a concerned glance over at Ayame, who still looks dejected. All her excited energy has completely left her body or something.

Finally, she speaks in a low, sad voice. "The pop-up of Yashiro-chan said 'copyright Mostar Korea'..."

I know it's terrible of me, but I can't help popping a smug grin and laughing. Ayame does it to me all the time, so turnabout is fair play.

"What's so funny?!" Ayame's energy is suddenly back, but instead of joyful, it's indignant. "Do you like destroying the feelings of innocent girls?"

"Me? What did I do? You gave that long, passionate rant and then had it blow up in your face. I literally did nothing."

"Meanie." Ayame puffs up one of her cheeks in a pout like she always does when she doesn't want to admit she's wrong. Don't get me wrong, she is annoying, and her inability to admit to her mistakes (except very rarely) is even more annoying, but that expression is super cute.

We continue to slowly walk around the gaming hall, with Ayame pulling me from booth to booth as she assaults my eardrums with rapid-fire commentary about this RPG and that RPG and this gacha game and that gacha game. I expected that when she guilt-tripped me into coming with her to see the rest of Comiket, it would be another babysitting session. I was right. I stand there as she tries out demos of new games, talks staffers' ears off at each booth, and takes as much free merchandise as she possibly can.

As Ayame plops down in a chair at a small booth to try out the demo of what seems like the 500th Anime RPG that we've seen today, talking a very flustered staffer's ear off the whole time, I check my watch. The bright red LEDs read 9:45. It's almost time for the gates to open, and we're not even halfway through the exhibits.

Ayame doesn't acknowledge my existence when I walk over to her. She's too busy reciting all this stuff about games (I assume- I can't make sense of it) to the middle-aged, balding staffer who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but here, dealing with an overgrown nine-year-old who cannot comprehend the meaning of the words "be quiet".

I tap her on the shoulder and she whips around, surprised. "What did you do that for? I needed to ask Tanuma-san about if Fairies Story 5 would continue Reyn's-"

"It's 9:45. The gates will be open any minute now. I think we need to get back."

Standing up from her chair, Ayame quickly surveys the exhibit hall. "But we're not even halfway done! I wanted to go see the Altus booth...I heard rumors that Ego 6 was on display..."

"You can come back, can't you?"

"Ugh. Fine." Ayame stands up from the chair and stretches before returning to me with a sour expression. "You lead the way, since you interrupted my fun."

Again, how is it my fault you took three hours at every booth? I don't get Ayame. I really don't.

...I think I'm lost.

I thought I was taking the two of us back the way that we came, but we're in an unfamiliar hallway instead of the doujin floor. On the other side of us, a large set of glass doors lead out to an open pavilion where people in costume are milling around.

Let me check the time. 9:52 and I don't know where we are. We're really cutting it close. Ayame looks unbothered, and I know I must not seem anxious on the outside, but on the inside I'm freaking out. Imagine if the people showed up to buy a doujin from us and the actual artist wasn't there, and Takeno-senpai and Suzuran had to run the booth all by themselves because I got us lost.

...Okay. There's a map over on the wall next to a conference room that's not being used.

We're on the complete opposite side of the building from where we needed to be. I thought I had a good sense of direction. If we walk across the outdoor pavilion to the other side and hang a left, we'll be right back at the doujin floor-

"Haru-kun, look! It's the cosplayers!"

I turn around just in time to see Ayame taking off through one of the large glass doors into the throng of costumed people milling around outside, and I immediately take off after her. She's gonna bother one of them if I don't stop her, I just know it. A lot of them are adjusting their wigs and costumes and obviously don't want to be bothered by a hyperactive idiot.

Wow, there are a lot of cosplayers outside. I always thought spending money to dress up like a character from some anime or video game was stupid, but a lot of these costumes are really detailed. It looks like they spent a lot of time trying to perfect them.

Ayame's standing in the center of the courtyard, whirling around, looking excitedly at the cosplayers from side to side like a kid with his New Year's money in the toy store. As I approach, she turns to me, her eyes sparkling.

"Look at all the cosplayers! Oooh, there's an awesome Seika Izumi!" Ayame's gaze immediately fixes on a small female cosplayer wearing a white blouse and frilly purple skirt, holding a gourd bottle. On her head is a long orange wig with two large horns protruding.

Ayame immediately skips over to the cosplayer, humming, "Flat...flat...flat as a board...flat as mochi..."

I follow after her. I just know she'll harass that poor cosplayer, and I need to stop her before it gets out of hand. "Come on, leave her alone..."

"Haru-kun, she said we could take a picture!" Ayame turns back to me, holding her smartphone out with a big grin on her face. The cosplayer with the horns on her head nods daintily. Her outfit is really detailed- I wonder how much she paid for it and how much time it took to make?

"Do the chug and the drunk sway!" Ayame turns back to the cosplayer, who nods yet again.

"Here, gimme the phone and I'll take your picture." I hold my hand out, expecting that Ayame will hand her phone over to me, but instead she gives me a frown and a stare.

"That's not what I meant...you're gonna be in the picture too."

"Hold on just a second-" Suddenly, Ayame wraps an arm around my neck and pulls me right into selfie range, snapping the photo before I can do anything about it.

Ugh. I know I said that the woman's costume was impressive, but just because I appreciated the amount of work that went into her cosplay didn't mean that I wanted to get a picture taken with her, or that I consider cosplay a good use of someone's time and money. It's a weird hobby and I don't understand why someone like this lady (who looks pretty attractive) would waste her effort on it.

"Ms. Cosplayer, what's your favorite Nanhou? Mine is 7!" Just like that, Ayame is up in the cosplayer's face, talking a million miles a minute as the girl gives her a confused look in response. That's exactly what I was afraid of. "I know a lot of people say they like 13, but you just can't beat the older titles-"

This time, it's my turn to grab her and pull her away. "It's 9:56. We need to go." As Ayame shoots me a dirty look, I turn to the cosplayer. "Thanks for letting us take your picture, um-"

"Cocone Necoma," the cosplayer replies in an elegant, high-pitched voice with a smile. "Thanks for stopping by! I'm on Inst*gram and Tw*tter at @coconeco_cosplay, so feel free to follow me if you want."

"I'll take a look." I'm on neither of those platforms and have no desire to ever create an account, so her request for me to follow her is unfortunately going to go unfulfilled. Sorry, cosplay girl.

"Thanks for the pictures, Cocone-san! I'll drop you a follow!" Ayame waves as we start rushing toward the other side of the courtyard.

When we make it back to the hallway that leads to the room where our booth is, I'm almost blown away. In under an hour, even the hallway has filled up with tables pushed back-to-back, filled with all sorts of doujin circles advertising their product. The doors aren't even open to the general public and it's already crowded. We don't have any time to stop and take a look, though. Ayame and I keep fighting through the crowd to get back to our table.

When we finally make it back to our booth, I look down at my watch, panting. 9:59. Just made it.

Sitting behind the table, Takeno-senpai gives me a concerned look. "Are you okay, Kouga? You look pretty worn out."

Pausing a few seconds to breathe heavily, I finally sputter, "That's because I am worn out."

"Don't push yourself." He straightens up some of the doujinshi on the table, nervously thumbing through the cash box where our change is sitting.

Unlike me, Ayame seems to have even more energy. I swear, how does she do it? "All right, it's time for the cheer!"

"No, it's not." I'm shutting that idea down.

Ayame shoots me an indignant look, but finally marches back behind the table. "Your time to shine, Suzucchi." She takes the sign on the wooden pole that's leaning against the desk in her hand and passes it to Suzuran, who holds it timidly. "It's foolproof. You turn your cuteness to the max and these guys will have no choice but to buy our stuff. We'll sell out!"

"I-I'll try..." Suzuran stands up, pink in the face. Poor girl, having to wear that outfit with all those creepy perverts around. If I was her, I would have already quit the circle, left the building, and gone looking for a voodoo doll that I could stick a lock of Ayame's hair to, but Suzuran seems determined to see this out. She's such a nice girl. Much nicer than Ayame. Man, why couldn't she have been my childhood friend instead? Or why couldn't it have been Sudou-san?

Sighing, I take my seat behind the table. It's 10 AM. Time for the otaku fest I've been dreading to begin.

It takes a few minutes, but then the crowd surges into our exhibition hall, and suddenly the place is so thick with people that I can barely see a meter in front of me. I'm having to breathe through my mouth, by the way. Not that I have a cold (I don't), but I don't want to inhale nerd stench.

After a few minutes, a couple guys stop in front of our table, with one of them picking up two of the doujins. They're not fat and wearing tattered flannels with opaque glasses- they look pretty normal.

"Our first customers!" Ayame shoots up from her chair and immediately starts talking the guys' ears off about Hero Tensei and Spear Art Online and this and that. I try to tune her out, but it's not working. I can see the guys' eyes are starting to glaze over.

Finally, the one who picked up the doujins says something, nods politely, and puts them back before heading on.

Ayame trudges back to our side of the table and sits down slowly. "I thought Suzucchi's cuteness would leave those two with no choice but to buy something...oh well. We'll get more customers," she says with an optimistic smile.

If she keeps scaring away potential customers by not shutting up, we're not going to get many sales, although I don't say this out loud.

As the minutes turn into hours, the endless crowd continues to flow by our table, but barely anyone actually stops to look at our booth. The same scene repeats itself a few times- someone takes a brief, curious look at our table, Ayame talks to him or her, but the customer ultimately doesn't buy anything. Sadly, her proclamation that Suzuran would cause our booth to sell out doesn't appear to be correct. As the hours tick by, I start to notice Ayame's broad smile fading, and she's not quite as energetic as she was in the morning.

Lunchtime passes. Takeno-senpai disappears for almost a half an hour and returns with hamburgers. I have no idea where he got them, but they're tasty, and I didn't have to pay for them, so I'm not complaining. The sound of the bustling crowd is almost peaceful, in a way. It's like white noise.

At three PM, a total of sixteen people have stopped to take a look at our booth, and we've sold zero doujinshi. There's about one hour to go before the event closes. Ayame's getting more animated- she's now standing in front of our table, pushing out into the crowd to talk to people. It's not working, though. We're not getting any customers.

I figured this might happen. After all, who would want to spend 600 yen on Ayame's awful artwork when there's so many other artists here, most of whom are better than her?

But I can't say it doesn't make me feel a little sad. She worked so hard...we all did, and all of it might end up going to waste. But that's the way life works sometimes. At least I can be happy I had the experience.

Oh, right, I've got to LIME Kaede. She's probably wondering where we're going to meet after we've packed up our stuff.

"Sorry, Haru-kun, can you watch the booth? I'm going to the bathroom." I'm interrupted by Ayame's voice. It's peppy as always, and she's still smiling, but I've known her long enough to tell that she's forcing it.

"Sure." I don't look up. It's not like running the booth is hard. All I need to do is sit here until someone stops to take a look (not like I expect that's going to happen). I can chill out...

It's been almost twenty minutes and Ayame still isn't back. The crowds have started to taper off just a little bit, but there's still nobody that even wants to stop and take a quick look at our doujin.

I wonder what she's doing? Is she crying in the bathroom? I hope she's not, but if she is, I don't blame her. Seeing all her hard work amount to nothing must be really tough on her. It's kinda tough on me, and I don't even like anime.

It's none of my business what she's doing. She'll come back eventually. I just need to focus on the booth...but the image of her returning with red, puffy eyes keeps popping into my mind.

"Shiritori sure is taking a long time, isn't she?" Sitting next to me, Takeno-senpai puts a finger on his chin and stares at the ceiling.

Ah, damn it, I can't sit still.

"Can you watch the booth for a second, Takeno-senpai? I'll be right back."

Not even waiting for his response, I start to push through the crowd, exiting the exhibition hall and forcing myself out into the hallway. It's still crowded out here. There's people everywhere you look, banners, groups hawking their doujins...you name it. The bathroom's right in front of me, a few steps down the hall, and to the right is the cosplay courtyard.

I just realized something. I dragged myself all the way out here without thinking. If she is in the bathroom, even if she's upset and crying, what am I going to do? It's not like I can go in there. I'd get arrested.

I guess all I can do is stand outside and wait for her.

She's not coming out.

It's 3:30 now and I've been watching the women's restroom intently. No, I'm not a pervert. I have no desire to peep in the girls' bathrooms like I know all the otaku around me would love to. I'm simply trying to make sure my friend is okay. If she really is in there, she's been in there almost thirty minutes-

Out of the corner of my eye, something that looks like her bright red tank top flashes by.

I turn my head immediately. I swear that's her. I can just barely see the flash of color up ahead and the head bobbing...but why is she going that way? It's the wrong way!

Don't tell me she's lost her sense of direction...well, I wouldn't put it past her.

I blend into the crowd, trying my hardest to fight forward and reach her, but the red flash stays the exact same distance ahead of me, no matter what. I'm starting to get swept along with the crowd. I can just barely see her...I've gotta reach her...

It takes a while before the crowd thins out. Now I can see her, much more clearly.

As I get closer to her, I finally cry out. "Ayame!"

Crap, I forgot to use her pen name. She’s gonna get mad.

She turns around, and then I realize that it's not her. It's someone with similar enough clothing, but it isn't her.

Well, this is embarrassing.

"Can I help you?" the woman who I mistook for my childhood friend asks with a confused expression.

"No, never mind...sorry."

She gives me another glance, then turns around and walks away, and that's when I realize I'm lost again. The surroundings are completely unfamiliar. I think I've ended up on a lower floor.

Ugh. By this point, Ayame's probably back at the booth, and they're about to send out the search party for me. Where's a map-

When I turn around, through the doors that lead to the street-level entrance under a pedestrian bridge, I see my childhood friend off in the distance, sitting by herself on a set of stairs that lead up to a back entrance to the building, with her head in her hands, moping.

I grumble to myself as I go through the revolving door and pass by the taxi dropoff sign. Fortunately, there are no cars coming and not a lot of people outside, so I'm able to cross the street fairly quickly. What in the world is she doing all the way out here? When I finally catch up to her, I'm gonna let her have it for making me come all this way to find her...

That's when the guys come out of nowhere and surround her.

There are four of them, all looking to be college-age, dressed fairly nicely, all standing in a circle around her as she looks up, confused. They don't look like they're here for the convention. What do they want with her?

Don't tell me they're-

"Hey, baby, you want to have some fun with us?"

Instantly, before I even have time to think, I take off toward them.