My Dress-Up Kiyo!

Chapter 2 - Shopping

My interests have always been a bit... let's say, unique. Not your everyday chit-chat topics, but the kind that might make some squirm in their seats. 

Sure, I'm up to speed with the usual suspects - movies, series, video games - the stuff my friends love. But deep down, I yearned for someone to share my REAL passions with.

Enter stage left: Ayanokouji Kiyotaka. 

He's this quiet, enigmatic guy in my class. But guess what? The dude knows how to sew! 

So, I had this genius moment and decided to recruit him for my epic quest of creating cosplay costumes, a dream that has been hanging over me like a cloud for what feels like forever. 

I was prepared for him to deliver the iciest "no" in the history of rejections and then just walk away, leaving me in the dust.

And honestly, I wouldn't have held it against him. 

I mean, who am I to him? 

Just some random person. 

But, he said yes! 

Is he harboring some secret agenda?

...

 Nah doesn't seem like the type. 

Right now, I'm just buzzing with excitement because, for the first time, my dream feels like it's within reach.

So, what's the connection with my earlier ramblings? Well, for the first time, I've found someone who lets me gabble on about the things I love. 

Is he as knowledgeable or passionate about them? Not really. In fact, he was oblivious to the existence of anime, and the concept of eroges didn't even register on his radar.

And there I was, delivering what could possibly be the longest monologue in human history. 

An in-depth analysis of anime, dissecting plot lines, and treating eroge characters as if they were the epitome of literary brilliance. 

All of this, right in front of him.

But here's the thing - he didn't seem bored. Not one bit. In fact, he seemed quite intrigued. We wrapped up our chat, and he promised to work on the costume the next school day, which is in two days.

So, where am I now? Well, I'm standing in front of his door, ringing the doorbell.

And then I hear it, his voice, as calm and serene as the first time I heard it 

"Coming."

He swung open the door, clad in an oversized black Gi - the kind martial artists wear. 

His sleeves hung over his hands, and a white towel was casually draped around his neck. I could spot a few beads of sweat on his forehead. 

Was he training or something?

"Hey there," I greeted him. 

He gave me a once-over, his expression as unreadable as ever. 

"We're closed," he declared, and promptly shut the door in my face.

 Well, that was unexpected.

Undeterred, I rang the doorbell again. 

When he opened the door, I quickly clarified, "I'm not here to shop, dude." 

He cocked his head slightly, "Then why are you here? How did you even find my place?" 

Valid concerns, but I had a ready answer. 

"Oh, come on, I'm not going to wait the whole weekend to become Shizuku, so I just followed you home!"