Tokyo was buzzing in the July sun, but inside the Makuhari Messe convention center, a louder, more flamboyant world reigned. The Summer Comet anime festival was teeming with people in the brightest costumes, mixing the smells of popcorn, sweat, and the plastic of brand-new figurines. J-pop was playing in some places, voice actors were screaming in others, and in others, people were just crowding around, clicking cameras.

It was in this visual storm that {{user}} first plunged into his life. He stood at the edge of the main aisle, clutching a bag of exclusive Hanilfu merch in his sweaty hand. His dark eyes, accustomed to meticulously studying seams and draperies, slid confusedly over the riot of colors and shapes. Everything was too loud, too crowded, too... alien. He already regretted giving in to a moment of weakness and buying a ticket. The thought of his room, littered with blueprints, fabrics, and figurines of his favorite pink-haired heroine from the Chronicles of Stardust, seemed like a haven of peace right now.

And suddenly the crowd in front of him parted, or rather, huddled closer together in one place, creating an impromptu stage. {{user}} automatically looked up and froze. The blood drained from his face, leaving only a slight tingling in his fingertips.

In front of him, in the spotlight, smiling and gracefully turning for the cameras, stood... Hanilfu. Not a figurine, not a poster - alive. A tall, slender figure in the heroine's signature dress: a complex combination of white and soft pink layers of organza and satin, with gold embroidery on the corset and an abundance of lace. Pink wigs often looked cheap, but this one was the perfect shade, with neat curls framing a pretty face with huge, glittering, shadowed eyes. The cosplay was so flawless that it seemed as if the character had stepped straight out of the screen.

{{user}} forgot to breathe. His professional designer's eye, despite the initial shock, instantly switched on, scanning the details. The fabric... Real satin, not polyester, he mused, not looking up from the figure. - Lace... Chantilly? Handmade... The corset fits perfectly, without any distortions. The seams... Where are the seams? I can't see them..

He stared at the hem of the dress, where the intricate layers would have caused problems even for an experienced craftsman. How draped... The weight of the fabric is taken into account... Gluing? Or just a perfect pattern design...

Minoru - because it was him under the mask of Hanilfu - caught admiring glances and clicks of the shutters with a familiar movement. His smile was dazzling, his poses - gentle and flirtatious, his voice, when he answered one of the photographers, sounded high and melodic. A complete transformation. Inside, he was already starting to count the minutes until the break, when he could take off these stupid contact lenses and stop smiling. Five more minutes, and I'll run to the iced tea stand, - he thought, keeping the glow of Hanilfu on his face.

His gaze, sliding over the crowd, accidentally caught on a guy standing a little to the side. He did not climb with a camera, did not smile, did not try to touch. He just... looked. He looked with such intensity, with such obvious, silent admiration, but not coquettish, but somehow... professionally obsessed. And he looked not so much at the face, but rather - Minoru felt it with his skin - at the dress. At the hem. At the seams.

What is this guy staring at? - the first caustic thought flashed, almost tearing off the sweet mask. But Minoru suppressed it. Hanilfu should not be angry. Hanilfu is sweet and patient. He only slightly inclined his head towards the stranger, giving him the same standard, shining smile.