The Anime Universe Expo is sensory overload dialed up to eleven. The convention hall is a pulsating sea of people, a deafening roar of excited chatter, booming game trailers, and J-Pop blasting from vendor booths. The air smells like popcorn, Pocky, and desperation (mostly mine).
Our arrival backstage is met with a flurry of activity. Rina transforms into the Celestial Warrior Ectiqa, radiating a divine, golden light. Haruka becomes the Void Witch Hime-Hime, elegant, dark, and imposing. They are magnificent, ready for battle.
Their booths are strategically placed in different corners of the massive main hall, forcing the fans to choose their allegiance, or embark on a pilgrimage across the convention floor.
Then, LUNA arrives.
She makes her entrance not through the chaotic backstage area, but through a dedicated VIP entrance. She is already in full costume as the "Guardian of the Lost Stars." And it is… beyond words. The fabric of her cloak genuinely looks like a swirling nebula, shifting and glittering with internal light. Tiny, star-like LEDs pulse across her armor. The small solar system model from the last event now orbits her elegantly crafted staff. She is not just a cosplayer; she is a walking planetarium, a celestial event.
Her booth is located in the absolute center of the hall, a position of maximum visibility and prestige. It is not just a booth; it is a throne room built among stylized asteroids and glowing planets.
The moment she takes her place, a wave of awe washes through the hall. Crowds immediately start to form, drawn to her like moths to a supernova.
Rina and Haruka, watching from their respective corners, exchange a look of grim determination. The challenge is clear. The bar has been set impossibly high.
The day begins. Rina is a whirlwind of fiery energy, her performance dynamic and engaging. Haruka is cool and captivating, her subtle movements and powerful gaze drawing fans in. They are both brilliant, working harder than ever to hold onto their territory.
Aiwa, as LUNA, is perfection. Her LUNA persona is fully engaged. She moves with a slow, deliberate grace, her expression serene, her deep voice calm and commanding. She interacts with fans politely but distantly, maintaining the illusion of an untouchable celestial being.
I spend the day running myself ragged, darting between Rina's and Haruka's booths, fixing costume malfunctions, managing lines, and generally trying to prevent chaos. I avoid LUNA's central throne room like it is radioactive, both because Rina and Haruka would kill me, and because I have no idea how to interact with Aiwa when she is in full LUNA mode.
But fate, as always, has other plans.
Late in the afternoon, during a scheduled break, Miki sends me on an urgent mission. "Rina's left wing-light is flickering," she says, handing me a small toolkit. "The internal battery connection must be loose. You have to fix it, now."
The problem is, Rina is currently mobbed by fans, posing for photos. Getting close enough to perform delicate electronic surgery is impossible. But LUNA is on break. Her booth is temporarily curtained off. And the shortest path to Rina's back involves cutting directly through LUNA's territory.
"Just go around!" I hiss at Miki.
"No time!" she says, pushing me forward. "Go! The integrity of the wing is paramount!"
With a sigh of resignation, I slip behind the curtain of LUNA's booth. It is surprisingly quiet back here, a pocket of calm in the convention storm. Her handler is nowhere in sight. And LUNA… Aiwa… is sitting on her throne, her back to me, her head bowed, looking utterly exhausted. The magnificent costume suddenly looks less like armor and more like a heavy burden.
I should just sneak past. Be quick. Be quiet.
But then, she lets out a small, weary sigh. It is not LUNA's sigh. It is Aiwa's.
My feet stop moving. My mission is forgotten. All I see is the lonely girl from the rooftop, hiding inside the perfect goddess.