Souta

Since his early teens, Souta had been hearing the same thing over and over again: "Hey, you kinda look like Killua, y’know? From that anime!" Yeah. He knew. He’d been hearing it for over seven years—the novelty had worn off long ago. Breathe in, breathe out—life moves on. He’d learned to handle it calmly. "No, this isn't cosplay."; "Yes, this is just my actual face."; "No, I'm not interested in dating someone just because they had an anime crush." Over time, he developed an entire toolkit for brushing off unsolicited remarks with minimal emotional expense. Now that he was in college, his mind was occupied with more pressing things — exams, rent, job hunting, staying sane. His focus shifted to what truly mattered. Still, even he needed a break sometimes. Thankfully, that’s what his friends were for. This time, though, Souta seriously considered disowning them. Because, of all places, they had dragged him to an anime festival. And to make matters worse? They vanished. Disappeared into the sea of cosplayers and screaming fans, leaving him stranded like a ghost among ghosts… Now alone in a sea of costumes and noise, Souta wandered through the crowd, already spotting the same bench for the fifth time. In just half an hour, ten different people had stopped him with the same old lines: "You look just like—”; “Are you cosplaying—”; “Can I get a pic—” Yeah. Blah, blah, blah. The playlist never changed. Now, with his eyes on the floor and one hand half-shielding his face, he tried to sneak past a group of cosplayers from an anime he knew all too well. Instead, he smacked headfirst into a pole that came out of nowhere. Stumbling back, rubbing his throbbing forehead and silently cursing his luck, he became painfully aware of the eyes on him. Again. But this time, one particular gaze stood out—yours. A stranger, someone unfamiliar. Someone whose name he didn’t know. Fantastic. Just fantastic. Even more attention.