“Short straw! You’re it!”
The rugrats playing at the nearby park jeered and cajoled another unfortunate boy, who set to chasing after them fruitlessly. A disturbingly familiar and nostalgic sight.
It was an unwelcome reminder.
“Hehe, Li’erz, you got the short straw. Again!”
I cringed at the sudden memory of my obligatory ‘tragic backstory.’ Su’el, asshole that he was back then—and likely remained—acted just like those children. I’d come to identify that gods were no better than the rotten little tykes. It might not even be a mistake to think of us that way, really. Without any incentive to grow up and act your age, living an existence that allows you to jump from world to world and mess with mortal lives without any repercussions? Yeah, we treated everything like a little game.
I’d gotten sick of it, finally. Turned my attention towards trying new things. Alone. As far from the petty insults as I could get.
Moving on from the little neighborhood park, I hauled my suitcase onto the train and joined the press of bodies headed across Tokyo. My destination was, naturally, the cosplay convention at Tokyo Big Sight.
I had a date with destiny. To make myself feel better? Not at all.
After Su’el’s latest little trouncing fest, treating me like some villain to be driven off to cry in the corner, I’d made a deal with the solitary god overseeing a small blue-and-green world off in the middle of nowhere. ‘God’ had history with Su’el, and we had commiserated over what a scumbag the Lord of Trickery was. God wanted no divine drama in his realm, and I promised I wouldn’t start any if he’d just let me retire here peacefully, taking away Su’el’s favorite punching bag.
And so, I retired from the divine life. I was finally going to accomplish a short term goal of my retirement. I planned to win the cosplay contest! I had it all. Triple checked my supplies, makeup, and costume. Packed it all up two days before, then kept unpacking and repacking things just to practice my swift transformation.
I’ll admit, I went off the deep end on arrival to a quiet new world. Anime had proven to be the peak of entertainment. Far better than playing the evil deity the others chased around and treated like trash. I took a special interest in magical girl shows, though. Something about turning villains into heroes just seemed poetic.
I stepped off the train and hurried along, passing the gardens of pretty flowers along the path until I found the right spot to stop and snap a few pictures of the impressive complex of inverted pyramids that would play host to my ascension as cosplay winner. It was a pretty building, even if it wasn’t a grand temple to my glory. Social media would eat up the hype, though!
It’d be close enough to temple worship.
With a grin on my face, I strode haughtily towards the participant entrance, VIP badge in hand already.
There was still a line. If there was one thing that would be wonderful to let a little black magic loose on, it was lines. I was kind of the opposite of a goddess of order, so I naturally hated them more than the average sufferer. Being real, chaos just had more spice.
Anyway, I always hated lines. It’s like they were bad for my skin. Actually, standing in the sun like this? Totally bad for my skin.
Then again, I’d lose votes if I went around exploding all my problems.
With a sigh, I waited. Cooking in the humid summer heat.
It was a ten minute wait as the staff checked badges and ensured nobody brought anything dangerous inside. They forgot to check me. I was something dangerous being let inside. Even my beauty could be considered a Class S threat. They’d have to clear the building. I supposed that made it alright to cut that corner. Couldn’t have my fans losing an opportunity to worship me.
With a bit of help, I navigated my way to a private room to get changed.
This is the part that would get fashionably montaged in the show. Sorry, light novel fans, you get the long version! I could only chuckle at my own inner monologue.
The shoes of my outfit were overlaid with painted foam, made to look like armored ankle boots in black with a gold buckle across the arches. Thigh high black stockings emerged from their tops, rising up to a bit of absolute territory that squished slightly beneath some decorative belts around each leg. Black mini shorts provided proper coverage, since my character could fly and I didn’t have conveniently placed obstacles to prevent flashing people.
This isn’t that kind of anime. Wait… it totally is. Maybe a short skirt would be fine?
The gloves were similar to the boots. A bit lighter, but still sporting the golden strip of metal across the knuckles on the left hand. The right instead had a triangular golden emblem set with a gem inside. Bardiche—the character’s transformation gem—was extra, extra cool.
A military-style, long-sleeved coat hugged tightly to my body, specially sewn so it provided extra support up top, and the hem of the coat flared down to my ankles, all in black with white trim. A white half-cape settled over the shoulders, clasped at the neck with a gold chain.
It was all laid out neatly and ready to go.
Makeup first. Not too much, since I had stunning beauty already, but I had promised myself I wouldn’t cheat with changing my body or face to fit my cosplays. I’d win the competition fairly. If I cheated, it would ruin the whole experience forever. Nobody would know except me, but that was bad enough.
The only exception was my hair. If there was ever one identifier to tell if you were experiencing the misfortune of meeting a deity, it would always be their hair. Mine was a mass of black lightning. I couldn’t live a quiet life among mortals with clearly magic hair. My retirement was a peaceful thing, so I’d styled my mortal guise to have perfect, straight locks that hung to my ankles. Black, of course. Which meant, I had dyed it for my costume. Bright, golden blond.
I just had to pull it back into a ponytail with a bow.
After makeup and hair styling, I got into the rest of my outfit, finishing it off with a simple belt around the waist that made me look like I was cartoonishly slim. Which I was. That was the point.
Cosplayer Li’erz doesn’t do half effort.
All that remained was assembling the weapon.
The handle was a simple shaft of interconnected PVC. Sliding onto each end of that was a longsword in electrified golden paint, each made of foam and sprouting from a metallic-painted guard with precisely measured decorative spikes.
I’d almost gone for the younger Fate Testarossa look. In the end, I just didn’t have the body for it. I promised myself I wouldn’t cut corners by making my mortal body younger. That would be a slippery slope towards making my chest bigger for some of my cosplays. That would be clear cheating, and I already established how I felt about that.
In fact, knowing I could break my own rules and magic away the problems of my own physique gave me newfound appreciation for the efforts of my fellow cosplayers. They—we—put a lot of effort into making the perfect ensemble, both with the costume and our own bodies. It was a full time job, just as legitimate as any performer.
Taking things any less seriously would be a shame to the profession! I puffed out my chest at the thought.
After a final check in the mirror, I strode out of the changing room with a smile and an obligatory “ittekimasu!”
The instant I was out onto the convention floor, it was like all hell had broken loose. It felt like home in that way. Cameras out, everyone fawning over my efforts and laying the praise like it was varnish.
I took my time, playing the game of gathering votes by doing photos with fans and all the other typical cosplay influencer things. People had prints of my previous Revue Starlight cosplay as Hikari, which I signed, of course. I’d planned that out in advance. People who knew to bring those pictures for signing were specifically following me on socials, making them my biggest fanbase.
My retirement was going wonderfully.
No more being jeered at as the evil goddess that terrorized the mortals. No more being badmouthed by every human attending their temple sermons. No more being forced to play the part of antagonist.
My people—because whose else were they, really?—loved me. I was a heroic goddess again. For the first time in tens of thousands of worlds, I could be the recipient of the adoration of the masses. That had once been common. I was a proud goddess of magic back then, and Su’el had drawn the short straw one singular time, meaning he had to play the role of evil god. He’d hated it, and even threatened to leave if he had to be the villain again.
And then I’d become the evil goddess of black magic. In every world. Every time. For an uncounted number of different civilizations.
All that negativity had led me to where I stood. Basking in the happiness and laughter of all the fans and cosplayers making the rounds nearby.
It was nice to be smiled at again.
Of course, that’s when all the good times had to come to an end, of course.
Why couldn’t this be a happy slice-of-life anime? What did I do to deserve plot twists in my life? Now that I think about it, a lot of things… huh.
While I mused about whether life was just collecting a karmic debt against me, a red glow came from below everyone. Definitely not some mood lighting from the convention center. The glow eclipsed the white light from above, and I analyzed the fragrance of the magic with a scowl.
Teleportation magic. Large-scale, but meant to narrow as it found targets. Whoever was doing the casting either was a deity with a lot of followers, or a group of mages with a large quantity of sacrifices—either of lives or a wealth of magical materials.
The glow stretched across a large portion of the showroom I was in, then beyond. In fact, I noticed after a moment of scrutiny that I was probably at the edge of the circle. I could step backwards… maybe a few steps? Then I’d be out of it entirely. Some of the people nearby did step back warily, even if unconsciously.
But if I left, then most of the convention would be teleported away. They might die on their own. God would be upset if someone stole so many of his mortals, right? He might blame me for not saving them.
More importantly, if the convention goers vanished, who would vote for me to win the contest? Nope. Couldn’t have that.
So I stayed, feeling the magic take hold as the first cries of panic rippled across the crowds. I’d be there to save them, and then I would help them all make it home.
Maybe I’ll get to play the role of an anime protagonist?