An hour into our three-hour tour, my legs were starting to ache, but my spirit was unbreakable. Kenji, on the other hand, was starting to wilt.
"I'm so hungry," he whined. "Can't we just get a hot dog?"
"No," I hissed. "If we leave the line, we lose our spot. We're in this for the long haul. Be strong."
Up at the booth, Rina was working tirelessly. Posing for a photo, signing a print, offering a polite, "Thank you for your support," and then repeating the process. Miki was a hawk, managing the flow of the line, while Hana stood by with a powder puff and a tiny bottle of water with a straw, ready for emergency touch-ups. It was a well-oiled machine.
But the Archon armor was heavy. And hot. Rina could feel a bead of sweat slowly tracing a path down her back.
"Ten more minutes, then we're taking your scheduled break," Miki murmured to her between fans. Rina gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
As the next fan stepped away, a sound cut through the noise of the hall. A familiar, chiptune melody. It was the theme song from "Starlight Paladin."
Far back in the line, I heard it. "Hey," I said, nudging Kenji. "You hear that? Someone's got our old ringtone."
"Huh? Cool," Kenji mumbled, his brain clearly focused on imaginary hot dogs. "It's a con, man. Full of old-school fans."
Just another coincidence. I smiled to myself. This place was full of people who got it.
At the booth, Miki was frantically digging through a tote bag. "Sorry, that was my bad!" she whispered to Rina, pulling out Rina's personal phone and silencing it. "You got a text."
Rina's heart jumped. She never let her personal phone near the booth. "Who is it?" she whispered back.
Miki glanced at the screen. "Your brother. It just says, 'Don't forget to eat lunch, dummy.'"
A small, fond smile touched Rina's lips behind her mask. Even when he wasn't there, her Onii-chan was still looking out for her.
Finally, Miki stepped forward. "Ectiqa will be taking a short, fifteen-minute break! Thank you for your patience!"
A collective groan went through the line. Rina was quickly escorted by staff towards a private backstage lounge. The path they took went right alongside our section of the queue. As she passed, not ten feet away from me, her back was to us. All I could see was the incredible, intricate detail on the back of the armor, the way the light shimmered off the feathered wings.
"Whoa," I breathed, completely captivated. "Even the back of the costume is a masterpiece."
The fifteen minutes felt like an eternity. When she finally returned, a ripple of excitement went through the line. We were getting closer.
And then, it happened. After two hours and forty-seven minutes, we were at the front. The staff member gestured for me to go.
My legs felt like jelly. My palms were sweating. Kenji gave me a thumbs-up. "You got this, man."
I stepped forward, into the brightly lit space of the booth. She was right there. Ectiqa. In the flesh. She was even more beautiful up close. The blue wig framed a perfectly made-up face, her eyes, enhanced by contacts and makeup, seemed to glow.
I clutched my gift, my carefully rehearsed speeches vanishing from my brain. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
Ectiqa tilted her head, her expression patient and kind. "Hello," she said, her voice like music.
She looked down at the nervous, black-haired boy in front of her, who was holding a bag with the reverence of a holy knight. He looked sweet. His eyes seemed oddly familiar, filled with a pure, earnest adoration that reminded her, just for a second, of someone.
But she quickly dismissed the thought. He was just another dedicated fan. And she had a job to do.