Hero in the Making [Man to Albino Woman] - Part 1

Commissioned Anonymously

Sam’s hyped for his favourite manga author's new series at the convention, even cosplaying as the main character. But when the character is revealed to be a woman, he’s humiliated—until he mysteriously transforms into her; and things only get more complicated from there. 

~

Part 1

Stepping into the convention centre was like finding water in the desert. After over an hour waiting in the hot sun, the air conditioning felt like Heaven, and I let out a deep sigh of relief. I’d spent weeks making this exo armour set, going over the few concept images available of Basco Barringer’s newest character to get it as accurate as possible. The 3D printing had cost a fortune, and I’d only had enough to cover the breast plate, but still, it was as perfect as I could have made it. The only downside was that wearing a bodysuit covered in hardened resin wasn’t exactly breathable in the Arizona heat. 

I didn’t complain, though; this was the sort of sacrifice true fans, like me, made. 

Next to me, Keith took a deep breath and grinned.

“Smell that? Acrylic charms, body paint and fresh ink.”

“KaCon.” I confirmed.

KaCon was the biggest comic book, manga and anime convention this side of the country. Every year for three glorious days, a two-floor convention centre was the mecca for all things nerdy, geeky and obscure. Oh sure, you had the usual One Piece normies and girls dressed as magical girls, but the variety made KaCon so great. Indie authors, manga that hadn’t even had their English release yet had booths, and the artist alley was a Haven of body pillows, posters and trading cards for everything from Pokémon to dating sims that barely anybody, except the most devoted fans, had played. It was the highlight of the year. 

Keith had spent the last few months painstakingly putting together his costume from Ninja Storm, Basco Barringer’s last manga series. It had been going strong in Shonen Jump’s top five for almost ten years now, and last month, its final volume came out. 

“Nice sword.”

A woman wearing a candy-coloured wig smiled at us. She was easily a seven out of ten on the hotness scale; the sort of girl who normally wouldn’t look twice at guys like us, nice, normal guys who didn't spend every waking hour at the gym. That was the power of KaCon. Here we were the cool guys; the girls had to impress us. 

“It’s a katana, actually,” Keith said, pushing up his glasses. “I made it myself from papier-mache.”

“Wow, that must have taken a while.”

“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, “When you’re as dedicated as us, time is no problem.”

“I’d love to learn!” The woman beamed, “I bought this one online. I haven’t seen yours before…who are you?”

I rolled my eyes; what a poser. 

“I’m the new protagonist from Basco,” I said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s the author of Ninja Storm, you know, like, one of the biggest Manga of the decade.”

The woman scrunched up her nose, clearly embarrassed we realised she was a fake so quickly. 

“I know what Ninja Storm is, but your character isn’t from that.”

“No, he’s the protagonist for Basco’s new series; he released concept art for his new series on his Twitter.” Keither chuckled. 

  “I based it on that. He’s announcing the series today, by the way. So I will be the first-ever cosplayer.”

I puffed out my chest, but she didn’t look impressed; probably still embarrassed. 

“Well, enjoy the con…” She muttered before walking away, but not fast enough for us to miss the added ‘assholes’ she added under her breath. 

“God, I hate fake fans like her,” Keith muttered as we made our way through the halls. “They get all uppity when you point out they don't know shit.”

“I know. Don't let her get to you, here, we are kings, we can have our pick of girls.”

“...So why have we never picked one up in all the years we’ve been coming here?” 

I bit my lip, he had a point. I wasn't sure how to answer and settled on;

“Because they are intimidated. Come on, let's get to the dealers' hall and get all the exclusive merch before it sells out.”

Keith and I were seasoned KaCon goers; we knew the schedule: dealers hall for exclusives first, then panels, then finish each day at the cosplay contests to check out all the hot chicks. Yeah, fake fan girls sucked, but I wasn’t about to complain about being able to see them parade across a stage in all their skimpy outfits. It was the one time a year I could stare without risking a slap or a call to HR.

.The crowd was already thick as we made our way through the dealers' hall. More than once, I saw people trying to snap photos. My custom-built 3D-printed Exo armour was the real showstopper, but nobody was brave enough to actually ask us to stop for proper poses. It's a shame. I caught a flash of my reflection in one of the shiny metal pillars lining the room and stopped to admire it. 

Normally, I wasn’t vain; with plain brown eyes, hair and a bit of pudge, I was exactly the sort of guy people usually forgot existed. Now, in the body suit and fake black exo armour, I looked like a million dollars; sure, I was missing the helmet and the armour on my legs had to be painted on, but considering I only had concept art to go off, I think I nailed it. 

“You should get a cape while you’re here.” Keither suggested, “The pictures had a white cape to go with the black armour, right?”

“And hide away all this work? No way.”

“Man, you’re literally the coolest person here. Look at these losers, I bet they are too embarrassed to ask for a picture because they don’t even know who you are,” Keith laughed. 

“Yeah, exactly,” I said, barely looking at him as I scanned the crowd. 

It was easy to feel superior when you had the kind of knowledge I had. Most of these people just threw together their outfits and hoped they’d get some attention. Not me. I spent hours researching the best way to print this armour; hours they’d never have the patience or dedication for.

Nothing beats the thrill I get every time I open my wallet and purchase the high-end, expensive merch without blinking. I’d been saving my pay all year, but these guys didn’t know that. There was no way for them to know I worked stocking the back of a supermarket; here I was just the rich guy getting all the merch they wished they could afford. I could feel everybody’s envy as I carefully placed the limited edition figure in my bag, nestled in the custom pouches I’d installed to keep them safe. 

“I half expected that to be on sale all weekend,” the vendor chuckled. “Not everybody can drop five hundred bucks on day one.”

I flicked my fringe the same way Jin, the protagonist of Ninja Storm, always did.

“Most people aren’t me.”

Behind me, somebody made a choking sound; probably in awe of how cool I was. 

Keith had disappeared, but I caught sight of his sword poking out of a crowd gathered around the collectable card tables. I’d never really been into them myself, but I knew now that Keith had found his people, there would be no dealing with him till he’d bought at least one of each of the new packs. I scanned the crowd when my eyes caught sight of Satsuki, the best girl from one of my all-time favourite harem anime. She was splayed in her signature bikini and daisy dukes across a body pillow. 

I grabbed a body pillow with my hands, examining the print, when the booth vendor, an older guy with glasses, cleared his throat from behind the counter.

“Uh… sir, I have to warn you about something with your armour,” he said.

“Good, isn't it?”

“Well, uh, it looks like the glue you used on your armour, uh, the hot glue, I am guessing? It’s melted some of the fabric underneath, and um, I think walking around has made it worse.”

I froze for a moment, my eyes narrowing. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I’m just saying, I see a few areas where it’s slipping. The hot glue...It’s not really the best for something like this. You should’ve used-”

“This is 3D printed, not just some cheap cosplay prop.”

I turned away from him; no way was I giving that guy my money, even if he did have the best body pillow in the dealer's hall. I looked down at my armour and grimaced; some of the exo armour did look…loose. The crowd pushed past, and a woman brushed against the shoulder pad, the single dot of hot glue that had seemed so solid a few hours ago ripped. 

“Hey!”

But she was already gone, lost in the throng. I bent down, quickly picked up the shoulder pad, and frowned. A tiny, half-melted piece of plastic was stuck to the back; the hot glob of dried glue would be impossible to remove. Awkwardly, I twisted my shoulder and looked at the hole; the threads around the body suit were ripped and half melted. The problem was the amount, I decided, not the glue; I should have put it around the edges. 

A quick glance showed Keith was still engaged with his cards, so I headed through the dealers' hall toward the back, where the costume and cosplayers usually hung out. Booths were selling full costumes, custom masks, everything. One of them would have a glue gun I could borrow. 

“Hi there! Do you need help with that?” 

It was a woman wearing some sort of maid cosplay: ruffles on ruffles, a pair of twin drills, and a little badge with the word ‘cosplay medic’ attached to her collar. 

“I need someone who knows how to fix armour,” I said with a cool, authoritative tone. “The fabric under it is getting weak, and it’s slipping. I need a professional.”

“Oh! Well, resin is pretty heavy, so attaching it to a body suit isn’t what I’d recommend in the future. For now, though, I’d recommend fabric glue. We could-”

“Fabric glue?” I interrupted, barely containing my eye roll. “I’m not sticking two pieces of fabric together. What do you know about 3D printing?”

Her smile faltered, and she stood up straighter, her hands slightly clenched. 

“Actually, I’ve worked with a lot of different materials, including fabric adhesives for cosplay.”

“This isn’t about sewing.”

I turned, and she didn’t bother to follow me. I managed to find a white cape on sale that would cover the missing shoulder pad and reluctantly threw it on while stuffing away the missing piece. By the time I got back to Keith, he had a bag overflowing with booster packs and was laughing at two guys in Ninja Storm graphic tees who were giving him the finger. 

“They tried to act all cool, saying how they were big Ninja Storm fans, they didn't even know what chapter Akio got introduced in.”

“God, it’s so painful when people pretend to be fans,” I said, shaking my head in mock sympathy. "You can't just throw on an armband and call yourself a real Ninja Storm fan."

Keith nodded sagely, then pulled out his program. The sight made me vibrate in excitement, with all the costume trouble I’d forgotten about the big reveal; I was finally going to find out who I was cosplaying as!  

“When is the panel for Basco’s big project?” I asked. 

“In a few hours, right after the panel on…Misogyny in Character Design?!”

“Wait, what?”

I snatched the program and stared at it in disbelief. How the hell had KaCon let something so stupid become a panel? No way, KaCon was my haven, it was the highlight of the year, goddammit, I wasn’t about to let this sort of thing fly at my convention! 

“We’re going.”

“But the card tournament is starting soon-”

“We’re. Going.”

The room was mostly filled with women, typical. But I found us a seat right at the front and waited. Just as expected, it was a bunch of idiots who didn't even know what they were talking about. Slides crossed the big screen with some of the most empowered women in all of comic books, while the hosts tore them down one by one with half-baked arguments on how they were ‘objectifying women”. I couldn’t let it slide. My hand shot up immediately. The moderator pointed to me.

“Yes?”

I stood up, adjusting my armour, making sure everyone knew I wasn’t some poser. 

“Look, I get that we all like to have our opinions, but…come on. Have you ever considered that these designs make sense from a practical standpoint? If the women are all wearing full-body armour, how are they supposed to bend, jump, or kick in battle?”

“The men don’t seem to have an issue with it.” One of the panellists deadpanned. 

“Men are stronger. Skin-tight or revealing outfits just make more sense. It’s not about objectification, it’s about functionality. Besides, everybody knows Star Bright gets her powers from sunlight; she needs to have as much skin exposed as possible!”

Finally, the moderator gave me a tight, forced smile. Ha, neither the panellists nor she responded because they knew I was right. 

"I appreciate your thoughts, but perhaps we could move on..."

I shrugged, knowing I’d already won the argument. 

"Sure, sure. Whatever," I muttered as I sat back down, my chest puffed out. Keith high-fived me. God, it felt good putting phoneys in their place. The rest of the panel was much the same; arguing how boob windows made no sense (even though the character had a good reason) and how shy characters shouldn’t be dressing skimpy (ridiculous, as if personality would stop somebody with double Ds showing them off!) but finally, the woke crowd left and my people started to file in. Ninja Storm fans replaced the women as Basco’s panel was set to begin. 

I was practically vibrating in my seat as Basco took the stage. He was tall, with dark hair and olive skin, but surprisingly light grey eyes. Being half-Japanese, half-American, he brought the best of East and West to his manga. I couldn’t wait to find out the title of his new one. The interviewer did the usual welcome and asked a few basic questions about Basco, his process and history for all the noobs in the room. My eyes were laser-focused on the screen, any second now…

“And so, I think we should get to this new manga you’ve been working on,” the interviewer smiled. “Do you have a title for us?”

“Yes,” Basco grinned, “‘Contrast’, a name that makes a lot of sense when you see the new lead character. Originally, I’d envisioned her as a supporting member of the cast but the more I wrote, the more I realised she belonged in the spotlight.”

Wait, did he say…she?

“So without further ado,” he waved a hand to the screen, “I would like to introduce you all to the cyber avenger, Contrast, real name, Shiori Saga.”

The official cover for Contrast appeared on the screen. There it was; the black exo-armour I was wearing, the same helmet I’d stared at longingly, the same musclebound, tall body. Except what had just been pixely sketches were now crisp and clear, showing off an obviously curvy female figure, what I’d thought as a white cape flowing behind was actually a long length of white hair flowing from underneath the helmet. The armour over her tits even formed a sort of love heart shape!

Horror washed over me like a wave. It felt like there was ice in my veins; not only had my favourite author gone woke, I was cosplaying as a woman! I could feel Keith shaking with silent laughter in the chair next to me, and I smacked him, sinking down into my chair so nobody else could see. 

“I focused hard on male-centric storytelling with Ninja Storm,” Basco explained, “I want to tell a more personal story with Contrast, with a smaller, more intimate cast with more fleshed out personalities. There will be action, of course, but I also want to focus on relationships, how at our core, what defines us is our relationships to other people, for good or bad.” 

This couldn’t get any worse. Everything Basco was saying about ‘Contrast’ went in one ear and out the other now; all I could think about was the fact that I was sitting in a hall full of fans, dressed as a woman. We were sitting right at the front; how was I supposed to get out of here without people seeing? 

“Still keen to show off the armour?” Keith teased, and I elbowed him hard enough that he started to cough and splutter.

“Shut. Up.”

The panel seemed to go on forever, and I barely heard a word. As soon as people started getting to their feet, I fled, weaving through the crowd as fast as I could manage with the cape held tight around my shoulders. I headed down one of the side corridors of the convention centre, away from the main halls and panel rooms.

I had to find somewhere to change; the convention hall was chock full of people selling shirts, somebody would probably have custom jeans or something as well. I wrapped my cloak tighter around me, I just had to hide until I could change; if I was lucky, people wouldn’t notice. 

“Okay, deep breath, let’s go,” I whispered to myself and moved out of the alcove…and straight into somebody.

“Ow!”

I blinked and held my head; whoever I ran into had a skull like a rock. 

“Are you alright?”
I looked up and froze. Basco Barringer was standing right in front of me, adjusting his glasses and smiling. I’d dreamt of meeting my favourite author for so long; I fantasised about what I might say to show him how much I loved his work. All the things I’d thought of disappeared in an instant, though, as his eyes fell down to my costume and he blinked before grinning widely.

“You’re dressed as Contrast? That’s amazing! You made that based on my little Twitter sketches?” 

My cheeks burned, and before I could stop myself, I was yelling.

“What were you thinking?!”

“Wha-?”
“Why make Contrast a woman? It’s such a stupid decision! Since when are you so woke?!”

“Woke?”

“Everything is getting ruined by pandering to these fake women fans! There was even a panel about how skin-tight costumes are stupid today, I mean, what is the world coming to! And now, my favourite author is catering to them as well!?”

“Catering to who…women?”

“Yes! And you humiliated me!”

“You don’t need any help in that regard…”

“I’m dressed as a woman! And it’s all your fault!”

“Look, mate, calm down.”

Basco placed a hand out and stepped back with a look of disgust on his face. All the frustration of the day was still burning under my skin as he looked at me with utter contempt, like I was one of those neckbeard fans everybody made fun of. That wasn’t me, this was serious!

“Contrast is my story, my character, I get to decide what I write. Nobody is forcing me to make her a woman; I decided it. If you don’t like it, don’t read it.”

My hands balled into fists; this day sucked. Basco was my hero, and in just the space of a few hours, he’d betrayed everything I thought he stood for and decided I was a loser. Having my hero look me up and down in annoyance before walking away without a second glance hurt so bad it was almost a physical blow. 

I was left alone in the small hallway, listening to the milling crowds not far away, back in the main convention. KaCon was supposed to be Mecca, Heaven, my place. Now….I didn’t know what it was. Heat burned on my face and to my horror, behind my eyes. Rubbing at them, futile to hold back the tears, I dashed for the nearby bathroom and locked the door behind me. 

“Get a grip, Sam,” I muttered, gripping the sink so hard my knuckles turned white. 

I looked at my reflection again; another piece of my exo armour was hanging off where the glue had failed; my face was blotchy and red from anger, and my eyes were shiny.

“Men don’t cry.” I told myself, “Get a grip.”

I forced any tears back into their ducts and sighed. I’d been so proud of this costume when we walked in, but now I saw it in a new light. It was falling apart, and it made me a crossdresser. 

“Alright, you can still salvage this weekend. There are plenty of games and manga out there, and you can find a new favourite and a costume to go with it.” I told myself, “Fuck Basco and his stupid ‘Contrast’.”

I ran my hands through my short, brown hair and sighed. It looked slightly paler under these harsh lights, or maybe the stress of the situation had turned me prematurely grey. Wouldn't that be the cherry on top of everything? 

I made my way back to the dealers' hall, keeping an eye on the forests of shirts hanging from every second booth. Yeah, finding a new outfit for the day wouldn’t be hard. One place was even selling jeans patterned with hand-sewn character decals. I grabbed one and a matching graphic tee before looking around for the closest bathroom. 

With each step forward, I felt strangely aware of how my thighs were rubbing together. Despite my pudge, they’d never done that before, or maybe it was the thin body suit stretched over my skin that was making it more noticeable. And just like most irritating things, once I started noticing, I couldn’t stop. The skin there was so sensitive.

“I really need to get out of this body suit…It feels so much more embarrassing knowing Contrast is a woman…”

Of course, the next bathroom I found had a line a mile long. For a second, I considered crossing the hall to find one less crowded, but decided against it; my thighs were still tingling. At least the line for the men's room was moving at a decent pace, the women on the other side of the hall could have been statues. The guy behind me leaned forward.

“Hey, nice armour.”

“I’m fixing it,” I replied harshly. 

“Nah man, I meant it, those shoulder pads are wicked.”

Wait, shoulder pads? Plural? I blinked in confusion and pulled back the cape, twisting each shoulder to find that somehow, my shoulder pad had attached itself again. Not only that, but they looked…better. The plastic sheen was gone, and instead, they were now somehow painted with a matte finish, complete with a few fake nicks here and there to make it look worn. 

“How did you do it?” The guy asked.

“I…don’t know.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “you cosplayers are so weird about your ‘trade secrets’.”

It would have been an awkward wait if I weren’t still so fixated on the mysterious, repaired, and improved shoulder pads. When I finally got to a cubicle, I found the chest pieces were the same, now properly affixed to the body suit. But instead of cheap spandex, the body suit was thicker, made of some sort of tightly woven black fabric. 

“What the hell?”

I reached for the zip and tugged down, but it refused to budge. No matter how much I twisted and pulled, the bodysuit simply wouldn’t come off. Neither would the armour pieces; it was like they’d been fused to the fabric somehow! 

“What the fuck is going on?” 

Was I having some sort of stress-induced mental breakdown? It was the only explanation. Clothes didn't just magically change like that! A fist slammed on the door to my cubicle, making me jump in surprise and whack my hip against the toilet roll. 

“Hey! Dude, hurry up!”

“C-coming!”

I rubbed at my hip and frowned; the bone seemed to jut out way more than usual. Curiously, I ran my hands up and down my sides and felt a distinct…curve. Usually, my belly was the widest part of me, but now it was almost cinched in; my hips were now wider. Okay, now I was really starting to freak out. I opened the door to a red-faced neckbeard type who was already opening his mouth to yell some more. Only the rage dropped from his face in an instant and was replaced with…awkwardness?

“Oh, uh, hi,” he laughed, snorting a little afterwards. “I t-think you’re in the wrong bathroom.”

I saw red.

“Just because my cosplay is a woman doesn’t mean I am!”

I stormed past, shoving my shoulder into his, only to shudder as I heard him squeal in delight.

“She touched me!”

God, was a fucking weirdo; it was guys like him who gave the rest of us normal fans a bad name. My new clothes were still clutched in my hands, taunting me with how close they were. There was no other choice; I’d have to ask Keith to unzip me so I could change, if asking didn’t make me die of shame. My thighs continued to tease as I walked, but now I was aware of my widening hips. They added a natural sway to my step, making my ass jiggle slightly with each step. I knew it was just my imagination, but I swore I could feel my butt cheeks swelling as I made my way through the crowds, looking in vain for Keith. 

The heaviness in my butt seemed to spread, travelling up my body toward my chest. Suddenly, a horrifying realisation washed over me; was I having a heart attack? Surely not, I was only twenty-seven! I wasn't that overweight! Still, I couldn’t deny the strange pressure over my chest; the skin there felt like it was swelling and pushing against the now perfectly sculpted exo armour. 

The red cross signalling a medical booth caught my eye, and I made a beeline for it. As I approached, the heaviness in my chest and my panic got stronger and stronger.

“I think I’m having a heart attack,” I said breathlessly, sitting down in the first chair I could find. Immediately, a nurse appeared and began to examine me.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“Sam Bynes.”

“Where is the pain located?”

“It’s more…weight. My chest feels funny.”

There was a pause, and the nurse got a funny look on her face.

“Are you wearing a bra that’s too tight? I know it sounds funny, but you’d be surprised how many women think they are having heart attacks because their underwire is too-”

“I’m not wearing a bra, what sort of stupid question is that!”

“Ah! That might be the problem, ladies with your sort of um, heft, usually need a bit more support. I know cosplay is important, but you really do need to be wearing a bra.”

Had the whole world gone insane?

“Look, I know I’m not the skinniest guy in the world, but I don’t have man…booobs?”

I looked down as I was talking, only to be met with two very undeniable, very obvious mounds that hadn’t been there before. If it weren't for the body suit stretched over them, I’d be staring into prominent cleavage. 

“Ma’am, is there somebody I could call for you?” The nurse said kindly. “I think you’re a bit disoriented.”

“No…” I shook my head, more out of denial than an actual answer to her question. 

I got to my feet in a daze; this couldn’t be happening; my costume was changing, and my body with it. 

“I…need a mirror.”

The nurse gave me another concerned look before reaching into her purse and handing me a small compact, which she opened to reveal a small mirror.

“Are you sure you don’t have somebody who can come and get you?” She asked, “You’re looking quite pale.”

Pale was an understatement; I was white as a sheet. My lips and eyelids were tinted a faint pink, and my eyes had also gone from a dark brown to a lighter, reddish brown. Translucent, almost blonde eyelashes framed them. There was also something different about the shape of my face; my features were somehow softer, and sharper all at once. My cheekbones were higher and more prominent, my jaw was smoother, and my hair was almost as white as my skin. 

“I…I…excuse me!”

I was on my feet and running before the nurse could stop me. I wove through the crowd with more speed and ease than I had in my entire life; I wasn’t even sure where I was running or why I just had to get away. This had to be some sort of weird dream. If I exhausted myself and fell asleep, maybe I would wake up in my own bed, with my handmade cosplay waiting on the dresser. I’d laugh, attend the real KaCon with Keith, and Contrast would get his proper reveal as a man. 

Of course, that didn’t happen, but I did see the next best thing to salvation: Keith.

“Keith!” I cried, not even caring how crazy I must look running up to him in the middle of the aisle. “Keith, something weird’s going on!”

“I’ll say…” He muttered, looking me up and down. “Is this like, an event? Oh man, did Sam pay you? What a legend.”

“No, no, Keith, it’s me. I’m Sam!” 

“...Okay, not really sure I get the game, do we need to like, hunt down tokens across the room to ‘turn you back’ or something?”

“Keith, this isn't a game! I’ve been turned into a woman!”

Keith pushed up his glasses and raised his eyebrows, looking smug. 

“Okay, so are you like, some new fangirl of Basco’s or something?”

“Oh. My. God. You’re dense, Keith. It’s me, Sam. I helped you rip up papier mache for your sword, I know your phone screen saver is Hatsune Miku wearing no clothes I-”

“Hey! Keep it down!” He hissed. “Jesus.”

He looked me up and down, and a shiver ran down my spine; there was something about the way his eyes lingered on my chest that made me distinctly uncomfortable. If anybody ever looked at me that way again, it would be too soon. 

“Come on.” I hissed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of one of the side doors and around the corner of the convention centre, where we could have some privacy. 

“That costume is really something.” Keith said, “Those even look real.”

Before I could stop him, his hand was reaching for my chest, and his fingers closed around my right breast. The exo armour prevented him from squeezing too tightly, but it was still enough to make me squeal in shock.

“Dude!”

“What? It’s not like they’re real.”

“They are, and that felt so wrong!”

“Wait…they’re real? You really got turned into a woman?”

“Yes! I don’t know how but-why are you looking at me like that?”

“I touched boobs. Real boobs.”

“Keith! Focus.”

“Real boobs…”

I was about ready to scream; Keith was looking at his hand like it was made of gold. 

“Dude, I have somehow turned into a woman, and you’re focused on the fact that you copped a feel? I feel like this is more important, also, y’know, impossible!”

“Right, uh, of course. We’ll figure it out,” he said a little too quickly. “Well, something in the convention hall must have changed you, so let’s walk around till we find it. I’ve…just gotta go to the bathroom. I’ll come find you.”

He walked away a little too fast, and there was something awkward about his walking that I really didn’t want to think about. 

“So much for your help…” I muttered under my breath, stepping back into the convention hall. 

I’d walked these halls so many times, but it felt like everything was different now; my muscular, yet curvy, thighs were still rubbing together. I could feel the sway of my hips and my breasts threatening to jiggle. Luckily, the armour was skin tight and held them in place, but I could still feel my new nipples pressed up against them inside. Everything about this felt wrong, and what’s more, even the space around me felt different. The crowds parted for me slightly; I wasn't part of the throng anymore. I saw people looking at me, but it was different from before; their gazes seemed more impressed with my costume, or more… amorous. 

As I passed a row of tables, something caught my eye. It was a small booth with pristine glass cases displaying rare collectibles—action figures, vintage comics, and something that stood out even more: a collection of Ninja Storm Phone Cards from Japan. They had only been released for a month three years ago; even finding one was hard, let alone a full set. For the first time since my strange transformation, I was distracted, and I welcomed it. I couldn’t help myself; I took a step closer, eyes wide. 

It was one of those treasures you read about in the collector’s world but rarely see in person. The price tag next to it made my stomach lurch, but I didn’t care. I could already feel the weight of it in my hands, the pride of owning a piece of fandom history. Before I could even open my mouth to ask the price, I heard a voice.

“You should move on,” a guy said, his tone far too smug for my liking. “Those cards? They’re for real fans. Not for like, your wall display.”

I turned, a little thrown by the abruptness. The guy standing next to me had an air of superiority, dressed in a Ninja Storm t-shirt that looked like it hadn't seen a wash in weeks. He was eyeing me up with a look that screamed condescension. But there was a twinkle of something else in his eyes that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the card. “You’re just gonna grab that and walk away? Those cards are for people who actually know the series.”

“What makes you think I don’t know the series?”

He looked me up and down twice, then chuckled, as if that was an answer. 

“Oh really? Okay, let’s see. Who was the first villain to get his own POV arc in the manga? Not the anime, the manga.”

He said the word manga slowly, as if it was supposed to impress me that he knew the word for ‘comic’ in Japanese. 

“Haneda.”

The guy froze. A flicker of surprise passed across his face before he quickly masked it with a scoff. 

“So you read the first volume, that doesn’t make you a fan.”

He walked off, I felt my jaw drop.  What just happened? I stared at the spot where he had been, trying to process. I understood questioning fake fans, but I wasn't one! I’d never been questioned before; if anything, my now magically improved cosplay should have made me look like even more of a dedicated fan of Basco’s work. It couldn’t be…was it just because I looked like a woman now?

“Sam! There you are!” 

Keith appeared at my side. 

“Come on, let’s go look for whatever it is that changed you.” He grinned, sliding his arm through mine before I could stop him.

“Wha-what are you doing?”

“Sticking together, the crowd is thick today. I don’t want to lose you.”

We’d faced way bigger crowds than this together, and not once had the idea of even holding hands crossed my mind. But his grip was tight against my arm, and he was already dragging me through the crowd; that same goofy grin on his face. It was then I realised I’d been subtly getting taller. Keith and I had always been around the same height, but now I was almost a foot taller, able to see over most of the crowd. Well… statistically speaking, there had to be at least one good side effect. 

Keith walked us up and down the dealers' hall, then across to the panel rooms while I looked for anything suspicious. All I saw were the usual KaCon fair, though, and Keith didn't seem to be looking very hard. In fact, he seemed more focused on making sure other guys saw me on his arm. 

“Are you even trying to find the cause?” I asked, tugging my arm free.

“Of course.” 

“Then why do you keep winking at every guy we pass?”

“Just being friendly.”

“Are you…Do you want people to think I’m your girlfriend?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Dude! I was a guy less than an hour ago. I just came to you with my life turned upside down, and you’re trying to score points with strangers?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a hot chick, there are worse fates.” He shrugged.

“Don’t you even care about how this happened? I come to you with something that’s literally impossible, and you don’t care?”

“What do you want me to do about it? I mean, like you said, it’s impossible. I don’t know how to snap my fingers and turn you back. If we can’t fix it, what's the point in worrying?”

“Uh, maybe the fact that I have a set of tits and I don’t want to?”

His eyes slid to my chest again, and he made an awkward giggling sound.

“They are pretty nice, though, come on, let’s go see the cosplay contest.”

“I don’t care about a cosplay contest right now, I can’t believe I even have to explain that.”

“Come on, in that get up, you could even win!”

“Fuck you, man.”

I shoved my way past him and walked away, my hands opened and closed, fists tightening over and over again as I tried to stay calm. First Basco, now this change, not to mention the fact that I had no idea how to start fixing it;  if one more thing went wrong, I was going to scream. Maybe I should just go home. I turned down one of the side corridors beside the main stage, maybe it was proximity, leaving might even change me back. It was worth a try. Thinking about the closest exit, I barely had time to step back when the stage door opened and a woman wearing a Sailor Moon costume that had definitely seen better days flew out. 

“I can’t do it! The crowd is too big.” She muttered before noticing me and shoving something at my chest. “You take it! People like you deserve to be seen more than me!”

There were tears in her eyes as she ran off, leaving me with a wrinkled piece of paper on my chest. When I pulled it back, it was just a number. 

“Twenty-two?”

“Twenty-two!”

A voice from inside, muffled slightly by speakers, made me jump. A man stuck his head out the door, and his eyes landed on the paper in my hand.

“You’re on!”

“On?”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my wrist, pulling me inside so fast I always went ass over tit. Why were people suddenly grabbing me so much today? After everything that had happened, I just didn’t have the energy to pull away; something I regretted a second later when I realised I was being dragged onto the main stage. 

I stumbled, a spotlight shone down on me, and I froze, staring out at a sea of people with a host smiling at me expectantly. I wanted to flee back into the wings and explain that this was all a mistake, I wasn’t a contestant in the cosplay contest, but my body had other ideas. As if it had a mind of its own, my back straightened. My chest puffed out confidently, and I started to walk. One foot in front of the other, accentuating the natural sway of my hips. 

My eyes flicked back toward the stage and caught sight of the massive projector screens. I was on everyone, standing there, staring at myself. I knew I probably looked foolish, but in the moment, I was star-struck. I didn’t even recognise the woman on screen; she couldn’t be me; tall, curvy, in the most professional and real-looking exosuit armour I had ever seen. Her long white hair flowed behind her, matching perfectly with her alabaster skin and dark red eyes. That was me? 

My face was frozen in a smile as I approached the host, who thrust a microphone up toward my face and asked who I was dressed as. 

“Contrast, the newest character from Basco Barringer.” I stammered.

“And how did you make this costume? It certainly is something!”

“I uh, I don’t know.”

I was staring at the crowd; a room full of people staring at me. Keith was probably there somewhere. Knowing they were all staring, studying, hell, perving on me right now had me frozen in space. 

“Ah, don’t worry, the spotlight can be scary, but you’re doing fine, hun! Give us a twirl!”

I did so before I could stop myself, then I felt my strong, thick legs coil, and I bounded into a perfect backflip, landing on my toes, arms outstretched behind my back like a ballerina. I blinked in shock; how the hell had I done that!? The room burst into cheers, and the host ushered me to the wings again. 

“Alright, on to number twenty-three!”

I walked off stage, still half in a trance, unable to stop thinking about how my body was moving. Whoever was number twenty-three was plum out of luck because nobody was looking at their cosplay; even with my back to them, I could feel half the room staring at my ass. I wanted to try and slip away, but it was impossible. The wings of the stage were packed with the other contestants, half of whom were asking me questions about sewing and something called EVA foam. 

Slowly and awkwardly, I tried to push my way through the gaggle of cosplayers toward the stage door. I just needed to get out of here and think for a moment! It didn’t help that all these pressing bodies made me hyper-aware of all the new changes to my body. My hips, my breasts, the long hair, even the shape of my hands felt off. I was so close to breaking through when somebody grabbed me by the shoulders.

“They called your number! You won! You won!”

“Of course she did; that make-up is amazing, she looks like a real albino.”

Albino? Was that why I was so pale?

The door was just there, but even off the stage, there were eyes on me. Sheepishly, I stepped through the group of costumed con goers and stepped back on stage, accepting the trophy numbly. Cameras flashed; somebody in the crowd wolf-whistled, and all I could think about was how skin-tight this suit was. 

As I stepped down from the stage, I was still in shock; I’d actually won. That wasn’t the surprising bit, really. This costume was perfect, but the fact that I’d gotten up there and somehow pulled off all those moves was…insane. I almost didn't see the thin man in a dark suit until he was thrusting a business card under my nose. 

“Well, hello there, ma’am.” He said with that faux charm that businessmen were known for. “I have a business proposition for you, and trust me, you won’t want to turn it down.”