The sprawling glass facade of the convention center shimmered in the late afternoon sun, reflecting a sky painted in streaks of pink and orange. Peregrine City’s annual cosplay convention was in full swing, the plaza teeming with people dressed as characters from realms unknown—heroes in shining armor, mystical elves with glowing eyes, space travelers with helmets adorned in LED lights. The air was a heady concoction of caramel popcorn and synthetic fabric mixed with the occasional blast of cinnamon churros from a nearby food truck. The scene was a kaleidoscope of creativity, a testament to imagination unbound.
In the midst of the crowd stood Nina, adjusting the bracers of her costume. She wasn’t just a fan attending the convention this year; this time, she was a participant in the heavily anticipated cosplay contest. Nina’s costume—crafted by her own hands over months of late nights and glue gun burns—was an intricate recreation of Valkyria Starfire, a battle-worn heroine from a cult sci-fi anime series. Her armor gleamed a metallic emerald, traced with veins of gold, and her cape, a flowing cascade of cobalt fabric, fluttered gently in the breeze, trailing behind her. Her long, dark curls framed her face, which she’d adorned with battle scars using makeup she’d painstakingly applied earlier that morning. At a solid 5’8” with a curvy frame that she often hid under oversized hoodies, Nina knew her body didn’t match the lithe, sharply defined Valkyria from the show. Regardless, she had poured her heart into this cosplay.
“Here’s hoping they judge on effort and not waist size,” she muttered under her breath, her hazel eyes scanning the contest arena, a raised stage against a backdrop of holographic banners that pulsed with animated galactic designs.
As her turn drew nearer, Nina’s thoughts swirled with doubt. The whispers around her didn’t help. A group of heavily armored cosplayers—who all looked like they stepped out of a fitness magazine—snickered nearby.
“Valkyria?” one of them said, loud enough for Nina to hear. “Looks more like Valkyria after retiring and binge-watching Netflix for ten years.” His companions laughed, but another muttered just loud enough to be audible, “Not everyone’s cut out for heroes.”
Nina felt the sting of their words claw at her confidence. She turned and walked away toward the edge of the plaza. Behind her, cheers erupted for the contestant currently on stage. She stopped near a reflecting pool and gazed at her own warped reflection in the rippling water. The sharp lines of her armor contrasted with her soft frame. In that moment, the doubts that had always haunted her rose to the surface. What if they were right? Did cosplaying a character like Valkyria mean you had to look like her? Had she set herself up for embarrassment?
The Stranger by the Pool
“You look amazing,” a voice broke through her spiral of self-doubt.
Nina turned sharply. A young man with shaggy hair dyed electric blue stood a few feet away. He was clad in a striking black-and-red assassin costume with a long trench coat adorned with crimson runes. His mismatched eyes—one pale blue, the other a deep brown—shone as he gave her a lopsided grin. His face was framed by sharp cheekbones, and his scarf fluttered slightly in the breeze. He held a prop scythe on one shoulder, its blade sleek and painted to look razor-sharp.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that,” Nina replied, crossing her arms in defense.
“I’m not just saying it. The attention to detail in your costume—it’s impressive,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re Valkyria Starfire, right? From season three of Celestial Blades? That’s not just a costume; that’s love for the character.” The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.
“You… know the show?” Nina asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Know it? I’m obsessed. I’ve been waiting for years for someone to do justice to that version of her. Season three Valkyria is battle-hardened, imperfect, and unstoppable.” He paused. “Kind of reminds me of you. You didn’t let people stop you from being here, did you?”
Nina’s breath hitched. She saw no mockery in his gaze, no judgment. Just admiration. “Thanks,” she murmured, a small but genuine smile spreading across her face.
The Contest
When her number was called, Nina stepped onto the stage. Her heart pounded as she faced the crowd. The overhead lights were blinding, but somewhere in the audience, she imagined the blue-haired stranger watching, cheering silently. She planted her booted feet firmly, gripping the prop staff she’d crafted—engraved with runes that matched Valkyria’s weapon to the tiniest detail—and struck a heroic pose.
The whispers faded. Nina could feel the weight of a hundred eyes, but instead of wilting under their scrutiny, she stood taller. When her turn was over, the panel of judges, ranging from professional costume designers to renowned cosplayers, nodded appreciatively. The contest passed in a blur, but one judge’s words echoed in her mind:
“True heroes aren’t just found in how they look, but in what they embody.”
A Victory Beyond the Trophy
Hours later, Nina found herself leaning against a railing at the plaza’s edge, her boots aching slightly after standing all day. The sunset had deepened into twilight, and string lights around the plaza glowed softly. She held a certificate of special recognition in her hands—not first place, but a nod to the craftsmanship and heart behind her cosplay.
“You killed it out there.” The blue-haired stranger approached again, now carrying a half-eaten churro. His scythe hung loosely across his back, and he still wore the same smirk. “Told you. Badass Valkyria.”
“Thanks,” Nina laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. “Seriously, your encouragement back there—it helped more than you know.”
A mischievous glint sparkled in his mismatched eyes. “Well, if you ever need another cheerleader—or a sparring partner—I’m usually haunting conventions like this. Name’s Aiden, by the way.”
“Nina,” she replied with a grin. “And if you ever cosplay from Celestial Blades, let me know. We’d make one hell of a duo.”
As Aiden walked away, Nina looked at her costume’s reflection in the darkened windows of the convention center. For the first time, she didn’t see imperfections. She saw Valkyria—battle-worn, imperfect, and unstoppable.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Do you have to be skinny to cosplay?
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