Cosplay Showdown at Enoshima Station
Enoden Enoshima Station, front plaza. Finally made it here. With that thought, she glanced sideways. Just like her, there were three others decked out in red, blue, and yellow wigs, full Bocchi the Rock! cosplay outfits.
"No way anyone's showing up today, right?"
"I-I checked Twitter and web searches, and none of the cosplay teams are coming. Unless some weirdos show up, we should have the place to ourselves."
A worried exchange was going on beside her. She figured it was justified. 'Going on a pilgrimage to an anime holy site in full cosplay' was one of those dream activities for cosplayers. Especially for 2022's powerhouse hit Bocchi the Rock!—it was super popular, easy to cosplay, and the holy sites were in Tokyo or nearby, not far at all. The odds of running into like-minded folks were high.
We went to all this trouble with the cosplay, but bumping into others dressed the same? Kinda awkward... Logically, no big deal if it was just one person. But human psychology doesn't run on logic alone. They'd come seeking that 'special just for us' vibe, only to find others with the exact same idea—it'd kill the mood. And from outsiders' perspectives? Comparing outfits, judging accuracy... Predictable as hell. Better not to run into anyone, so they'd picked this date after checking every known cosplay team's schedule.
...But their expectations were betrayed right from the start. The moment they began walking toward Enoshima Shrine, a four-person Bocchi the Rock! cosplay group appeared right next to them.
On the crowded sidewalk, eight people froze like they'd spotted doppelgangers.
"...Huh? Why?"
One of her companions muttered unconsciously, snapping her back to reality. They'd been so careful picking the day. And yet, today of all days, another team shows up—with the exact same concept. What now? Bail on the shoot and head home? Delay a bit? Push through? But if the other side didn't back down, they might end up lining up in front of tourists for 'holy site photo ops'—mortifying.
...Wait a sec. She cut her thoughts short and quickly scanned the four rivals. Generic wigs. Cheap rental outfits made from bargain fabric...
No winners or losers in cosplay itself—it's about recreating the character. But while character recreation has no hierarchy... cosplay outfits sure as hell do. Off-the-shelf 20,000-won wig versus a custom 100,000-won one—which holds more value?
With that in mind, she shot her group a subtle look. We can win this 'cosplay showdown.'
...And at that moment, Iseo was thinking the same thing.
Theirs looks higher quality... but...! The wigs and outfits Iseo's group had rented from some tourist-trap shop nearby screamed low-budget. No need to draw from Iseo's 'past experiences' to see they were outclassed. But even so, Iseo could smile.
Because... We're hotter!
Harsh truth, embarrassing one too. Looks are innate, unchangeable by effort. That's why, even in cheap outfits and wigs, Iseo and the girls would outdo the rivals in accuracy. That fact fueled Iseo's confidence, drawing her into this invisible battle.
Sparks flew from their glaring eyes, followed by subtle nods. The showdown begins.
Of course, without asking her companions' consent.
Myeongjeon had seen it all in life. Stints in the army, jail time, overseas tours, even drugs. Lately, he'd died and come back as a girl. Plenty of weirdos out there, but few had racked up as much as him.
But even he couldn't have imagined this. Happening right here, right now.
What the hell is going on? Tell pre-death Seo Myeongjeon, "Next year, you'll go to Japan, dress as a cartoon character, run into people dressed exactly like you, and head to the same spot in awkward silence." Would he buy it? Hell no.
But reality doesn't care if you believe it. Like right now.
Myeongjeon eyed her group. Hyeona looked confused but kept walking anyway; Seoha grinned like she got the gist. Ahead, Iseo and the four rivals were clearly in a stare-down. Pretending not to notice each other while walking, but flicking eyes at passersby to check glances. Each time, joy or frustration crossed faces—whatever the judging criteria, a contest was on.
And it dragged on. Up the gentle shop street, past stores.
Constant checks, pissed or pumped expressions from Iseo and the rivals.
"Um..."
"Yeah?"
Myeongjeon, munching on the must-try takosenbei—weird taco-shaped cracker—heard Hyeona's quiet voice slip in.
"Are we... like, competing with those people right now?"
"Dunno."
Myeongjeon played dumb. No way she'd open the door to "Why?"
While Seoha fielded it, the battle continued. At the shrine atop the low shops, striking poses for photos (rivals took theirs). At the escalator (pay to ride instead of stairs; same deal). At the viewpoint (same), up on the platform (ditto).
The weird contest climaxed at the ice cream shop. When the rival pink-head set down the guitar case on her back.
"We're evenly matched. Not an easy win. Let's end it... with the final showdown."
"What'd she say?"
"Showdown... showdown? She's saying let's battle."
"Koreans?"
"Huh? Koreans?"
"Calling us Korean?"
"No... isn't it weirder they didn't notice till now? She's been speaking Korean the whole time."
Pink-head pulled out a Martin acoustic amid mutters and Hyeona's translations. Brief chaos, then tense silence.
"We can play guitar."
"What?"
"They say they can play guitar."
"Tell 'em we can too."
"We can play guitar too."
"We're good at it!"
"What?"
"They say they're good."
"Say we've got a Guitar Hero."
"We've got a Guitar Hero."
"We do too!"
Iseo and the rivals traded lines through their Japanese interpreter (not really). Bicker like kids claiming who's better—straight out of a family game show. Myeongjeon just motioned to play.
Pink-head drew the Martin. "Here goes!"
The performance was surprisingly decent. Solid amateur effort, clear practice.
"Not bad~"
The two-minute piece drew the crowd already gathered for cosplay—gasps and applause from passersby. Pink-head bowed sheepishly, then shot a smug look their way.
"So? Admit defeat now..."
Myeongjeon walked up, hand out, no words. Rivals blinked, smirked like yeah right, handed it over.
"What'll it be."
"Uh... Distortion? The last part?"
Myeongjeon strummed the final section lazily. Child's play—16th-note barrage, just warming up. Threw in a speedy solo for fun.
The rivals' eyes bulged, truck-struck faces locked on her.
"Fun bunch."
"Only you thought so."
Iseo laughed off Myeongjeon's jab. The obnoxious cackle irked him; he scooped chilly seawater from his knees and splashed her.
"Cold!"
"Water's cold. Warm maybe?"
After the 'Enoshima Island Cosplay Showdown' (Iseo's name for it), they'd ditched the sweat-soaked rentals, roused Hyein from her hotel nap, and hit Katase Higashihama beach on Enoshima.
This trip... nothing but firsts in my whole life.
Sparkling sea, distant Mt. Fuji. Myeongjeon gazed, then up at the sky. Clear, couple clouds. Familiar after decades, but different now.
No matter how long he'd lived—or would—he couldn't have this without a new life.
"What're you mulling over."
A thwack snapped his thoughts. Colorful beach ball from Iseo. He grabbed it, eyed her.
"Dunno."
Why'd she pick something so slutty... Black sleeveless swimsuit covering to mid-chest—but sheer top. Bottoms barely containing her.
Paired with her figure, pure devastation. Guys swarmed like moths.
"Hey, wanna join..."
"Don't speak Japanese~ Not playing."
Even as Iseo shot them down, more came—blind confidence or post-rain weeds sprouting endless.
Won't play with that crowd. Myeongjeon bounced the ball. Hurry up, Hyein, Seoha, Hyeona—numbers would deter them. One girl alone? Easy prey for pickup lines.
"Hey, you there."
"...Me?"
A sleazy guy's voice hit Myeongjeon mid-thought.
"Wanna play? We're short one..."
"Fuck off."
Japanese, but meaning clear sans translation. Living long enough for this crap too. Didn't wanna experience this, though.