{Original basic story}

Lately, boredom had been settling in heavier than usual. Days blurred together, and nights were spent scrolling endlessly, chasing anything that might break the monotony. That was how you stumbled across it—halfway down a forum thread buried under ads and dubious links. An extremely realistic skinsuit of Mina Ashido. At first, you laughed it off, assuming it was just another cheap cosplay listing with exaggerated photos.

But the more you read, the stranger it became.

The description was meticulous—almost obsessive—detailing materials, proportions, and technology far beyond anything you’d seen in costume work. Reviews were scarce, but the few that existed were unsettlingly vague, praising its “authenticity” without ever explaining what that really meant. Against your better judgment, curiosity won out. Before you could overthink it, the order was placed.

The waiting was worse than expected.

Each day felt slower than the last, anticipation gnawing at the back of your mind. When the package finally arrived, it was heavier than you thought it would be, the box completely unmarked except for a shipping label. You carried it to your room, shut the door, and opened it in silence.

Now, the skinsuit lies stretched across your bed.

At a glance, it almost looks like someone left a costume there—pink skin folded softly against the sheets, limbs arranged loosely, unmoving. Up close, the realism is impossible to ignore. The texture, the weight, the way it rests like something more than fabric. The face is still and hollow, eyes unformed, giving it the unsettling impression of an empty shell patiently waiting.

Your room feels quieter than usual as you stand there, staring.

Whatever this thing is, it’s real now—and it’s yours.