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“Oh my god, this is it!”
The door swung open to their hotel room. Lights flickered on and Marin barreled ahead with a sound she once described as verbal keysmashing. That didn’t remedy Gojo’s confusion, but he hadn’t questioned it. The same applied to Marin messaging him out of the blue a year after they graduated from high school and begging him to do one last cosplay adventure with her. Who was he to say no? Life tore them apart—he was busy with inheriting his grandfather’s Hina doll business and she was busy with back-to-back modeling gigs—but at least Marin hadn’t changed in her absence.
But that wasn’t the problem. Neither was booking a flight across the world to attend an American anime convention or even hauling in all of their luggage solo. The problem was that their hotel reservations promised two full-sized beds.
And there was just one.
“Um.” Gojo shuffled inside, closed the door, and blinked at Marin bouncing off the walls. “I think there’s been a—”
“I can’t believe this is happening?!” Marin squealed and flailed, rushing back and forth in front of the window overlooking Boston’s Back Bay neighborhood. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god?! What is life?! This is nuts! We’re here! We made it!”
“K-Kitagawa-san—”
“And we’re going to see the creators of Saint Slippery's Academy for Girls on Saturday?! Like, for real?!” She spun and bounced and squeaked nonstop. “And I can show off my Shizuku-tan cosplay! It’s been like, forever, but I’m so psyched we could salvage that! Oh my god, I haven’t worn it since—”
“I understand you’re excited, but—”
“And we can’t miss the autograph signing, either!” Marin punched the air as her voice shot up an octave. “This is the best! The best the best the best! A dream come true, for realz! And—”
Gojo cleared his throat loud enough to finally snap her out of her reverie. As adorable as she was caught up in her fangirl antics—and he was trying very hard not to dwell on those rekindled sentiments he never relinquished for her—they needed to address... um....
“We have a problem,” he said, unable to meet her gaze.
“Huh?” Marin rushed to him. “What’s up, Gojo-kun? Oh no, don’t tell me we lost some luggage during our connecting flight!”
If only that was the height of their worries. “N-no, we have everything.”
“Oh, sweet!” She patted his shoulder and he blushed to his toes. “You had me worried for a hot second, my dude!”
“But.”
“But... what?”
Rubbing his neck, he regarded the queen-sized bed. “This isn’t what we reserved for the room.”
Silence. Absolute silence.
Gojo sighed heavily and approached the room’s landline phone. “I-I can call the front desk and see if there’s a cot available. If not, I can—”
Soft hands clutched his arm. He shuffled to a halt and forgot to breathe.
“Gojo-kun,” she purred out, nuzzling into his side, “don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve already done like, all the adulty stuff to get us here.”
Well, she wasn’t wrong, but—
“This trip isn’t just for me, yeah?” Marin peeked at him with those sparkling eyes, still preferring her pink contacts after all those years. “It’s for you, as well, so you should enjoy it.”
Swallowing hard, he regained the strength to speak. “I-I don’t wish to... well, I can just take the floor so you can have the—”
“What?!”
He winced, his left eye twitching from her outburst. “Kitagawa-san?”
She gawked at him like he told her Saint Slippery's Academy for Girls was the worst piece of media in human history. “You can’t be for real! We didn’t come all this way for you to sleep on the floor, Gojo-kun!”
“But—”
Marin pressed a finger against his lips and he nearly passed out from the subtle friction.
“Nuh-uh!” she said. “This is not up for debate! We’re sharing the bed—”
“We’re what?!”
“—and we’re going to have a blast this weekend at Anime Boston, yeah?”
Incoherent words crackled past his throat while Marin retracted her hand.
“It’s okay, Gojo-kun!” she insisted, grinning. “I promise!”
He recalled all the other times she made a similar promise to him, ranging from their love hotel photoshoot to the stress of pinpointing elusive fabric before Comiket. Every time, his pulse raced and boiled from all the potential blunders haunting them. Gojo tried his best to have backup plans for his other backup plans. Just in case. Best to prepare for the worst and not get caught off guard by an abrupt fiasco.
But nothing roused anxiety in Marin. She beamed, unaware of the snags and stutters, and kept darting ahead. He imagined if the convention guests—the very ones she traveled across the globe to see—had to cancel last minute before the Saturday panels, Marin would still find a reason to smile and enjoy the trip.
He loved that about her. He always had and Gojo imagined that sentiment would stay the same, even a decade later. And it was because of her fearless drive—what made her beautiful on the inside and outside—that Gojo released a jagged breath, allowed tension to roll off his shoulders, and eventually smiled at her.
“If you say so, Kitagawa-san.”
The way Marin grinned right then? Full of jubilation and nothing else? Gojo didn’t realize how much he missed that—missed her.
As much as he yearned to bask in Marin’s glow, there was work to be done. Gojo unpacked her cosplays, ironing them when necessary before hanging them in the closet. While he lined up each wig on the dresser, Marin snapped selfies to post on social media alongside her cosplay lineup: Black Lobelia on Friday, Shizuku Kuroe on Saturday, and Rei-sama on Sunday. By the time Gojo unraveled cosmetics in the bathroom, Marin pinpointed at least a dozen places for them to grab food throughout the weekend.
“Good thing we’re literally attached to a mall,” Marin squeaked out. “We can try a different place a day!”
Gojo peeked out of the bathroom. “We should still be wise with money, Kitagawa-san. Perhaps we can stock up on snacks to bring into the convention hall? That way we don’t have to leave and waste time waiting for tables during a lunch rush.”
She sprawled out on the bed, pouting and kicking her feet overhead. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Plus that’s like, extra cash to blow on merch!”
“Uh, I suppose. So long as it’ll fit in our luggage.”
But Marin just squealed and flailed and rambled on about what she hoped to find in both the dealer hall and artists’ alley. Gojo smiled slightly. Why do I have the feeling she’ll be spending more money on another bag to check into our flight home than the merch itself?
He never interrupted her external monologue, though. If anything, it warmed his heart to know that she was still the Marin Kitagawa he knew throughout high school. That enthusiasm persisted when they slipped out to secure their passes and find dinner in that massive mall. Even when they retired for the night, Marin thrummed with excitement, jet lag be damned.
“So tomorrow,” she said, snuggled under the covers, “I’m thinking we can walk around and get a feel of the layout? Maybe we can scout out some cool places to snap cosplay photos, too!” She tilted her head to him. “You always had a good eye for that, Gojo-kun!”
He also lounged in the same bed as Marin, albeit as far away from her as possible, teetering on the mattress’ edge. “I-I’m glad you think so. I’d be happy to help.”
Marin blinked against the darkness. “You okay, my dude?”
“Uh, yes?”
“You sure?”
“I-I’m positive, Kita—”
Marin barrel rolled across the bed towards him. “Then why are you all the way over here?”
No amount of cool air from the vents alleviated the fire living on his face. “I-I’m trying to sleep!”
“You’re going to fall out of bed like this!”
Gojo evaded her gaze and did his best to ignore her presence. Easier said than done when Marin always had a swift and powerful influence on him. Besides, now wasn’t the time or place for him to indulge in that long-term crush of his. As much as he craved to pin her down and crush his lips against hers... no, that wasn’t fair to Marin. She deserved respect, bare minimum.
“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, though his voice cracked near the end.
Her breath teased his neck. “You sure?”
Swallowing hard, Gojo rolled onto his side—away from her. “We should get some rest while we still can, Kitagawa-san. It’ll be a long and busy weekend for us.”
No reply. Not at first. Then a gentle sigh escaped her, followed by the rustle of sheets.
“Yeah. We do.” A pause, then, “Goodnight, Gojo-kun.”
He remembered to breathe again. “Goodnight, Kitagawa-san.”
But that silence lasted for all of ten seconds.
“Hey, um... thanks for doing this with me.”
Gojo opened his eyes. The usual elation in Marin’s voice waned, softening into something else. Perhaps it was the exhaustion finally settling in, but... he still held his breath and waited.
“You didn’t have to,” she murmured, “especially when we kind of... you know, went all radio silent with each other after graduation.”
He frowned at that reminder.
“N-not that I’m blaming you for any of that. We totes had stuff to focus on. Couldn’t fool around and do cosplay forever, yeah?”
Perhaps.
“But I’m really happy,” Marin said, “that we can do this again, even if it’s the last time.” She sighed. “I... wouldn’t have come out here solo, that’s for sure.”
His eyes widened. A breath caught in his throat. “Kitagawa-san?”
As he peered over his shoulder, Marin was nothing but a curled-up lump under the blankets, her back facing him.
“I couldn’t do this without you, Gojo-kun,” she said.
“You already have the cosplays, though,” he noted.
“That’s not the point.”
His heart skipped. It... isn’t?
“It’s not the same if you’re not there,” she added.
He held his breath, waiting for another remark, another string of words that boiled his blood in the best way possible. No such thing occurred. Maybe she finally fell asleep, hopefully dreaming about a mountain of merch and a crowd of people waiting to photograph her.
And Gojo smiled as he nestled back into his pillow, touched that she didn’t want any of that unless he was present, too.
“Good morning, Kitagawa-san.”
She splayed on her back, slowly blinking her eyes open as Gojo loomed above. Even after opening the shades to welcome in sunlight, Marin remained motionless in bed.
“I bought breakfast for us,” he said. “There was a place in the mall that sold breakfast sandwiches. I wasn’t sure if you prefer tea or coffee, so I ordered one of each. I’ll take whichever drink you don’t want.”
Sitting upright with a groan, Marin rubbed her eyes. “Coffee. Totes coffee.”
Gojo chuckled while bringing over the aforementioned coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant. “Did you sleep alright?”
“Ugh, I wish.” She accepted the items and lounged against the headboard. “Should’ve brought Shizuku-tan with me.”
He blinked. “Um, but you did bring that cosplay?”
“No no no, not that.” Marin took a massive bite out of her food. “I meant my dakimakura of her. Couldn’t cram her into my suitcase and I already had a carry-on, so I left her at home.” She slumped and pouted. “Didn’t realize how much I need her to sleep! Bleh, this is the worst, Gojo-kun. How am I going to get through Anime Boston on zero sleep?!”
“I-I’m sure we can figure something out. We could ask for more pillows at the front desk?”
“Boo, that’s not the same.”
“Um... maybe the dealer hall will have one?”
“Yeah, cool story, but how am I shoving that into my bags going home?” She gasped. “Am I supposed to abandon her? My Shizuku-tan?! Noooooo, I’d be the worst fan ever! Of all-time!”
“H-how about we focus on getting ready and worry about it after?”
Marin huffed. “Yeah, alright.”
Once they finished breakfast and dove into cosplay preparations, it was as if Marin’s troubles never existed in the first place. Gojo still worried about her onset of insomnia, especially when their trip had just begun, but those anxieties ebbed while helping Marin transform into Black Lobelia.
It was nostalgia, truth be told. When had he last applied makeup to a human face instead of a Hina doll? And with more experience under his belt since their last cosplay venture, Gojo ensured Marin embodied whatever character she longed to become. Perhaps the tiny details eluded her—then again, everything he did was so awesome! and super cool! by her standards—but discerning how much he had grown since he was a shy first-year in high school... that was worth it to him.
So was following Marin around the Hynes Convention Center, carrying her belongings as she bounced from place to place. He watched from afar as she conversed with fellow fans fawning over her Black Lobelia outfit, albeit with basic English. He smiled as people lined up for pictures with her, some even asking about his so-called cosplay, unaware that his go-to casual garb was something of a novelty within an American crowd. He double-checked his phone and reminded Marin when a panel she was interested in was about to start—the perfect time to also remind her to hydrate and rest while they sat down for an hour. He even carried every plushie and acrylic charm Marin splurged on, thankful he brought an extra-large tote bag just for that.
But out of all the stellar things that garnered their attention, Gojo’s favorite thing was glancing at Marin and witnessing her unrestrained radiance. She was in her element, after all. Maybe they weren’t kids anymore, but she always loved things with every ounce of her soul. Even if their time in Boston was her final shot at cosplay, he hoped she never stopped being a nerdy fangirl at heart.
“Where should we go next, Kitagawa-san?” he called out after they exited artists’ alley for the third time.
Marin adjusted her hat and rolled her shoulders. She scanned the vast corridor, where numerous folks in cosplay and anime T-shirts ambled about. “I’m actually kind of hungry. You got any more snacks, Gojo-kun?”
He peeked into the tote bag, now crammed with enough collectibles to fill countless shelves, and frowned. “I’m afraid we’re all out. We have more in the hotel room.”
“Boo. Might as well grab a for realz dinner.”
“Did you have somewhere in mind?”
She huffed and lost several inches in height. “I don’t know. Maybe we can splurge on room service?”
His brow furrowed. “Are you alright?”
“I-I’m fine!” She bounced in place, though wobbled. No doubt walking nonstop in those high heels did a number on her poor feet. “Just... ugh, a bit tired.”
He cracked a small smile. “Do you want to call it a day?”
“What?! Hell no! We still got to check out that cosplay game thingy! The afterdark dating one!”
Ah, right. Of course. So much for hoping she’d magically forget about that one. “Y-you shouldn’t burn yourself out, Kitagawa-san. Besides, you’ll need all your energy tomorrow night for the Saint Slippery’s panel, yes?”
Her multicolored eyes lit up. “Yeah! Totes! But I can stay up late no problem!” Marin brandished fists while wearing a determined face. “I’ve got this!”
Except when they finally returned to their room, anything but that happened.
Marin claimed the bathroom to wash up after hours of cosplaying. Gojo placed an order for room service and flipped through the convention hall guides while waiting for her to finish. By the time Marin stepped out—donning an oversized T-shirt, shorts, and no contacts—Gojo already finished his share of food.
“Room service arrived while you were washing up.” He grabbed her plate of glazed salmon with mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables. “It should still be warm.”
She yawned and stretched before plopping onto the bed. “Thanks, Gojo-kun. You’re the best.”
He breathed out a chuckle. “Are you certain you’re holding up alright?”
“Mmmhmm,” was all she said while shoving a forkful of salmon into her face.
“Do you still want to attend that cosplay game tonight?”
Marin paused mid-chew, inhaled deeply, then groaned.
“Is that a no?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she drew out, a touch muffled while devouring her dinner. “I’m just... so sleepy.”
“You did have quite an eventful day, Kitagawa-san.”
“I know.”
“And you’ve been nonstop since... I believe 7 AM?”
She slumped. “I know.”
“On top of sleeping poorly—”
“I know I know I knoooooowwwwaaaaahhhhh!” She collapsed into a heap of pillows, pouting and whimpering. “Guh, this sucks. I just want to do all of the things and I can’t. Is this what it means to get old?! Ugh, I hate it! Bleh! Do not want! Gojo-kun, this is the worst.”
He leaned over her to meet her gaze. “But you had fun, yes?”
Fluttering her eyes open, Marin froze with a tiny gasp, then blushed—almost the same colors as the tips of her hair. “Y-yeah. Totes. For sure.”
“Then that’s all that matters, yes? Even if you miss one thing, at least you had the chance to experience everything else.”
She evaded his gaze. “Mmm, yeah. Can’t argue with that big-brained take.”
Gojo smiled and pulled away to recline in bed. He double-checked the time while Marin polished off her food. They had roughly a couple of hours before doors opened for that elusive cosplay game. From what he gleaned online, it was a popular event, one that everyone recommended to show up early for, just to secure a seat. If they headed out in half an hour, then hopefully they could—
Bedsheets rustled. Warm weight sank into his side. Gojo gasped, nearly dropped his phone, and peered to his right.
Marin snuggled into him, burying her face in his chest.
Blush blistered across his face. He parted his lips to say something—anything—but not a sound crackled free.
“Gojo-kun?”
A chill shot up his spine and welcomed goosebumps in its wake from the way she cooed his name. “Y-yes?”
Marin melted further into him, clinging to his body. “Can we just, like... stay in tonight?”
He blinked. “And miss the cosplay game?”
“I’m not missing anything.” She hugged a little tighter. “Not while you’re here.”
A part of him longed to pry away, simply to stand in the shower until the cold water banished the stray wanton thoughts tempting him to do something utterly stupid. But he also adored how comfortable she was nestled against him, gradually drifting off without another word.
I guess you didn’t need your dakimakura, after all, he mused.
“Do you want me to wake you up in half an hour or so?” Gojo asked, just to be sure.
Marin never responded, save for her steady breaths.
Gojo smiled while watching her rest. In time, he eased an arm around her, careful not to stir her awake. If anything, she sank deeper into him. So Gojo followed her example, settling into bed for some well-deserved sleep. Best to conserve their energy, after all. They did have an even bigger day ahead of them on Saturday.
Until then? He refused to let go of Marin, even daring to press his lips into the top of her head. Because of everything that unfolded that weekend, Gojo loved that the most—her curled up in his embrace like it fit her better than any cosplay.