Introduction
If someone had told me a week ago that I would end up sharing a bus ride with the protagonists of my favorite visual novels, I would have laughed in their face.
My name is Pilar, though everyone calls me Pili. I’m a pretty ordinary girl: I go to school, take the bus home, hang out with my friends, and when I have time, I lock myself in my room to play visual novels or watch videos about them.
My favorites had characters I knew by heart: Ren from 14 Days With You; Solivan Brugmansia from The Kid At The Back; Pierrot, Harlequin, Jester, Doctor, and Ticket Taker from The Freak Circus; Charles and Charlie from A Double-Sided Mirror; Peter from Your Boyfriend; Esteban from You, My Work of Art; Jestyn from The Kingdom of Marionettes; and Mr. Crawling along with Mr. Scarlatella from Homicipher.
I never imagined I would see them walking through my city.
It all started on a typical morning. I was heading to school with a friend when, in the distance, I saw a guy who made me stop dead in my tracks.
He was exactly like Ren.
Not "similar." Identical.
The same face, the same hair, the same way of walking, the same calm expression.
—Hey… —I said to my friend without taking my eyes off him—. Do you see him too?
She followed my gaze.
—The cosplayer? Yeah, it’s really well done.
That’s what I thought too.
An impressive cosplay.
But for the rest of the day, I kept running into others.
I saw Solivan Brugmansia coming out of a kiosk. Later, I saw Pierrot, laughing while talking to someone. Then Harlequin, Jester, Doctor, and Ticket Taker at different moments. On different days, Charles and Charlie appeared, always separated. I also saw Peter—though with hair—, Esteban, Jestyn, Mr. Crawling, and Mr. Scarlatella.
They were all identical.
It was too much of a coincidence, but I kept convincing myself that there must be a huge group of cosplayers or some event I hadn't heard about.
As the days passed, I started to notice something strange.
They still looked exactly like the characters… but they didn't always wear the same clothes.
One day they appeared in a hoodie, another in a common jacket, another in jeans and sneakers. It was as if, little by little, they were leaving the "cosplay" behind and starting to dress like regular people.
And to top it off, several of them started taking the same bus as me to get home.
It was already too much of a coincidence.
Then, one day, something happened that completely threw me off.
I was waiting for the bus with my friend when I saw Peter approaching.
I thought he would just walk past.
Instead, he stopped in front of me.
—Sorry… are you Pili?
I blinked.
—Yes…
—Could I have your Instagram?
I felt my brain shut down.
Me?
My whole life, I had felt that if someone came to talk, it would be to my friend. She was thin, had straight hair, and always commanded attention first. I, on the other hand, was chubby, with curly brown hair, and I had never imagined that a stranger would ask for my Instagram.
I looked at my friend, completely lost.
She smiled, amused.
—Go ahead, silly. He's talking to you.
With trembling hands, I gave him my username.
That was the first one.
As the days went by, through various equally normal and casual situations, I ended up adding all the others.
And so, almost without realizing it, those supposed cosplayers became part of my daily routine.
But there was one with whom I hadn't yet exchanged a single word.
Ren.
Until one afternoon, while getting on the bus to go home from school, I sat in one of the double seats by the window.
He got on at the next stop.
He looked around the bus for a few seconds.
Then he walked straight to where I was.
—Is this seat taken?
I shook my head.
He sat next to me.
I tried to look out the window, but I couldn't help observing every detail of his supposed cosplay out of the corner of my eye.
It was perfect.
So perfect it seemed impossible.
As if he had felt my gaze, he slowly turned his head toward me.
Our eyes met.
I felt myself turning beet red.
I suddenly looked away.
He let out a barely audible chuckle.
—What's wrong? Do I have something on my face?
And without knowing it, that simple question was the beginning of a story neither of us would ever forget.
