Work Text:
Marin Kitagawa was absolutely certain of one thing: the internet made everything look easy. Too easy, in fact. Another video scrolled by, and she felt a little spark of stubborn determination. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with her phone propped on a pillow, she watched with bright eyes.
On screen, a cheerful YouTuber sanded a wooden board. “Okay, guys! Today we’re building a custom display shelf!”
Marin leaned forward. “Whoa… that’s so cool.”
The video sped up: the creator measured, cut wood, drilled screws, and snapped the shelf together in what seemed like 30 seconds. The finished shelf looked flawless.
Marin nodded, stuffing her mouth with chips. She jabbed a chip at the screen. “Piece of cake!”
A new video began. A woman stitched a beautiful dress, fabric gliding through the machine like it wanted to cooperate. Perfect seams. Perfect sleeves. Finished in minutes.
Marin’s eyes beamed. “… okay,” she said slowly. “I can DEFINITELY do that.”
Her phone vibrated, breaking her concentration on the tutorial. Gojo-kun. She answered instantly.
“Gojo!”
“…Kitagawa,” Gojo’s tired voice came after a long pause.
Marin blinked. “You sound weird.”
“I caught a cold.”
Her entire posture collapsed. “WHAT?!”
“I’m fine,” he said quietly. “Just resting today.”
“So... we’re not gonna be able to hang out today?”
“I’m sorry…”
Marin stared at the paused video, considering the sewing tutorial. Her eyes brightened as a thought occurred. Her grin returned, energetic and infectious. “Don’t worry! I can entertain myself,” she said confidently, already picturing the finished cosplay looking insane.
“…eh?”
“I’ve got this!”
Gojo paused. “You… got what?”
Marin struck a pose atop the couch, foot planted like a conquering hero. “I’m gonna make a cosplay! Myself! What could possibly go wrong?”
Silence. Then, “You are?”
“You betcha!”
More silence. “Who’s the cosplay of?”
“Enobu Matsuyama! You know, from Automatic Project Fool Triton K!”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of that one...”
Marin smiled. “I’ve got the box set!”
Gojo considered for a few moments. “Okay. Just... don’t stab yourself with any sewing needles.”
After hanging up, powered by ten minutes of internet research, Marin migrated to the dining table and planted her hands on her hips, surveying her supplies.
Fabric. Thread. Scissors. A measuring tape stretched across the table. A borrowed sewing machine. Marin grinned. “Yeah, I totally know how to use one.”
Marin nodded intently. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
She turned on her laptop. A video popped up immediately. “Beginner Sewing Tutorial: EASY COSPLAY DRESS!”
Marin grinned. “Perfect.”
The cheerful instructor on the screen grinned kindly. “Today we’re making a simple cosplay dress in just a few easy steps!”
Marin grabbed the fabric. “Okay! Step one!”
The video continued. “First, measure your body and mark the fabric for cutting.”
Marin froze. “Measure... myself...”
She awkwardly wrapped the tape around herself. She dropped it twice before pinning it in place against the wall with her elbow.
“Wait a minute...” She looked intensely at the numbers. “Is this in inches? Or... centimeters?”
She wrote down a number. “Close enough.”
Five minutes later, Marin stood over the fabric with scissors ready. The tutorial continued cheerfully. “Cut slowly and carefully along the pattern lines!”
Marin set up the fabric and cut. SNIP. SNIP. The fabric slipped beneath her grip, edges askew.
She paused. “… huh.”
She lifted the piece. It was uneven. Marin frowned. Maybe it’s supposed to look like that… She squinted. No. No, it absolutely wasn’t. Who am I kidding? That looks nothing like the video.
She checked the tutorial again, focusing on it intently. The instructor’s fabric looked very symmetrical. Marin looked down at hers. One sleeve was noticeably longer.
“… okay... Maybe it’s reversible.”
Ten minutes later, Marin dragged the machine over and squared her shoulders. “…Okay.”
She watched another tutorial. The woman on screen calmly guided fabric through the machine. The stitches came out perfectly straight.
Marin nodded. “Easy.”
She placed the fabric under the needle and pressed the pedal. The machine immediately came to life with a loud sound. BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
Marin screamed. “AH!”
The needle moved wildly as the fabric moved forward. The machine stuttered to a stop. Marin stared at her handiwork. Abstract fashion, she told herself.
Thirty minutes later, the thread wound across the table. Fabric scraps stuck to her sleeve, and the sewing machine snarled with knots.
Marin slumped in her chair. “…okay.”
She took her phone and turned on another tutorial. “Fixing common sewing mistakes!” The instructor cheerfully freed the thread.
Marin squinted at the thread. “… wait... Ohhh.”
Five minutes later, the thread knot was gone. Marin stared proudly at the machine. “I fixed it!”
Progress. She picked up the next piece of fabric. Carefully lined it up. Pressed the pedal again. The machine droned softly this time. The stitches came out straighter.
Marin leaned forward. “… wait.” She held up the fabric. The seam wasn’t perfect. But it was actually… “straight.”
Marin’s eyes widened. “I DID IT.” She jumped to her feet, barely missing tipping over her chair, and threw both arms into the air. “I DID IT!” she shouted, voice bursting with happiness.
The apartment stayed silent. Marin slipped into her chair. “Back to professional mode.”
Hours went by. The sun dropped outside the window. Marin watched tutorials, resewed crooked seams, recut pieces, and once glued her fingers together by accident.
“AH!”
Another tutorial fixed even that. By evening, the fabric pieces began to look like clothing. Not perfect, just clothing. Marin held up the partially completed cosplay.
The sleeves were slightly uneven. One seam wobbled a little. But it was unmistakably a cosplay, her cosplay.
Marin stared at it, hand covering her mouth as realization came. Her tense expression relaxed into a wide, genuine smile. “I actually made something,” she uttered, pride growing in her eyes.
She collapsed backward onto the couch. “This is exhausting.”
Her phone vibrated, and she answered immediately. “Gojo! How are you doing?”
His voice still sounded tired. “Hi Kitagawa. I’m feeling better, and I should hopefully recover in a few days.”
“Good to hear! Your voice sounds better.”
"Yeah... did you start the project?"
Marin eyed the chaos around her. The fabric scraps, crooked seams, and the sewing machine she'd battled. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but not a disaster either. She grinned, her eyes shining. “Yep... I sure did.”
“How is the cosplay going?”
Marin held up the cosplay in front of herself. It swung lightly as she held it. “It’s... definitely a work in progress. Not sure it would win any awards...”
Gojo laughed. “That’s okay. I hope you’re at least enjoying yourself.”
Marin looked at the cosplay. “Yeah, I guess I am."
Three days later, Marin stood among chaos. Fabric scraps covered the floor, empty snack wrappers crowded her desk, and sewing tutorials filled her screen.
The sewing machine sat on the desk like a beast that had finally been tamed. Mostly. Marin stretched her arms over her head with a groan. “Ughhh… my shoulders…”
She flopped backward on the bed, moaning, “Why is making clothes a special ability?!”
For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling. Then she sat up again. “… okay.”
She turned toward the mannequin standing near her closet. The cosplay hung there. Marin stood slowly. “… huh.”
It looked like a real cosplay, imperfect, with one sleeve short, a seam that curved oddly, and a hem that wasn’t quite straight. But it was definitely a cosplay.
And more importantly, she had made it. By herself. Marin came closer. Her fingers gently touched the fabric.
“I actually did it…”
She remembered the first night. The crooked cutting. The terrifying sewing machine. The glue incident. The moment she finally figured out how to thread the needle properly. The small victory when her first straight seam appeared.
Her smile grew. “… this is kinda awesome.”
A moment later, her bedroom door rattled open. Marin burst into the hallway, cape streaming behind her, wearing the full cosplay she’d assembled: mismatched sleeves, one short and one long, and a crooked wig. She darted to the living room, stood in front of the mirror, and struck a pose.
“… alright.”
She turned sideways, then the other. "The waist seam’s weird." She lifted a sleeve. "That one’s shorter. The hem’s crooked." Marin crossed her arms. "Yeah."
It definitely wasn’t Gojo-level craftsmanship. Not even close. For a moment, disappointment crossed over her face as she compared her work to his. But gradually, warmth replaced the uncertainty in her eyes, and her smile returned, more genuine than before.
“… still.” She twirled once. The fabric moved around her. Not perfectly. But enough. Her grin widened. “I made a cosplay.”
Her phone vibrated on the table. Marin grabbed it instantly. “Hey, Gojo!”
His voice sounded noticeably better this time. “Good morning, Kitagawa.”
“Are you better?”
“Yes,” he said. “I should be able to leave the house tomorrow.”
Marin brightened immediately. “Nice!”
There was a pause. “Did you continue your project?” Gojo asked.
Marin looked down at the cosplay she was wearing. For a moment, her confidence faltered. Is this really good enough to show him? She nervously played with a strand of hair.
“How did it turn out?”
She chewed her lip and glanced away. Her eyes went to the uneven sleeve. Wish I could hide that. She scratched her head. "It's… not amazing."
Gojo sounded confused. “What do you mean?”
Marin laughed awkwardly. “Well, turns out sewing is really hard.”
“… yes.”
“I messed up a bunch of stuff.”
“… that happens.”
“The sleeves don’t match.”
“… that also happens.”
“The hem is crooked.”
“… I see.”
Marin shuffled her foot on the floor. “… it still kinda looks like a cosplay though.”
There was a brief silence on the phone. Then Gojo asked. “Did you enjoy making it?”
Marin blinked. “… yeah.” She smiled again. “… actually, yeah. I did.”
“Then I would like to see it.”
Marin froze. “… huh?”
“When I come by tomorrow.”
Her stomach flipped. “… you want to see it?”
“Yes.”
Marin looked at the crooked seam again. The uneven sleeve. The somewhat crooked hem. Are you really going to show him this? Her confidence wobbled. “… okay,” she said slowly. She forced a happy tone. “Sure!”
They chatted a little longer before hanging up. The apartment went quiet again. Marin looked at the mirror. “… oh no.”
She buried her face in her hands. “GOJO IS GONNA SEE IT.” She turned back to the mirror dramatically. “This is the most amateur cosplay ever!”
She lifted one sleeve. “WHY ARE YOU SHORTER?”
The sleeve did not answer. Marin groaned. “… he’s gonna know instantly.”
She imagined Gojo calmly examining the seams, pointing out every flaw. Her shoulders drooped. Her fingers touched the fabric again. The seam she had sewn herself. The sleeve she had fixed three times.
The hem she had redone at two in the morning. Marin looked at herself in the mirror again. “… still.” Her smile returned. “… I made it.”
And somehow… that made her feel pretty proud.
The next afternoon arrived much faster than Marin expected. Which was impressive, considering she had spent most of the morning pacing around her apartment. Her cosplay hung neatly on the back of her bedroom door. Marin stared at it from across the room.
“… okay.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe if I stand far away, he won’t notice the sleeve.”
She walked closer. “… nope.” The sleeve was still shorter. She grabbed the fabric and pulled it down slightly. “Come on. Work with me.”
The sleeve remained stubbornly short. Marin groaned and collapsed backward onto her bed. “Why is sewing so hard…”
Her phone vibrated. A message from Gojo. I’m outside. Marin shot upright. “AH!”
She scrambled off the bed, almost stumbling on a pile of fabric scraps she had forgotten to clean up. “Okay, okay, okay, okay...”
She grabbed the cosplay. Wig. Shoes. Accessories. Five frantic minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Marin froze. “… okay.”
She inhaled deeply. Then opened the door. Gojo stood outside, looking much healthier than he had sounded over the phone. “Good afternoon, Kitagawa.”
“Hey! You made it...”
She moved aside to let him in. Gojo removed his shoes. “Thank you for inviting me over.”
“No problem!” Marin scratched the back of her head nervously.
Gojo noticed. “You look worried.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah, you do.”
Marin laughed awkwardly. “Okay, so before you see it…”
His eyes brightened slightly. “You finished it?”
She rubbed her arm. “Yeah. It’s not great, though.”
Gojo looked confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because I made it.”
He blinked. “… yes?”
“That’s the problem!”
Gojo’s expression relaxed. “May I see it?”
Marin hesitated. Then nodded. “… okay.”
She disappeared into her bedroom. A few moments passed. Gojo waited quietly in the living room. He heard shuffling. Fabric rustling. A muffled “Why are you like this, sleeve?” Then, the bedroom door opened.
Marin stepped out. She stood awkwardly in the doorway. “… ta-da?”
The cosplay was clearly handmade. The sleeve lengths didn’t match perfectly. The seams were slightly uneven. The hem curved a little near the bottom. But it was unmistakably a complete cosplay. Marin waited nervously.
Gojo didn’t speak immediately. He came closer. “… wow.”
Marin winced slightly. “… yeah.”
“You made this yourself?”
“Yep.”
“… entirely?”
“Yep.”
He looked closer. His eyes followed the seams carefully. Marin braced herself. Here it comes. The critique. The explanation of what she did wrong.
Instead, Gojo’s expression slowly changed.
“… this is impressive.”
Marin blinked. “… huh?”
He pointed gently at one of the seams. “You corrected this section.”
“… yeah.”
“The stitching changes halfway.”
Marin looked surprised. “… I messed it up the first time.”
“I can see that.” He moved slightly. “This seam was redone as well.”
“… yeah. I struggled with that one.”
Gojo looked up at her. “You researched how to fix it.”
“… yeah.”
He examined the sleeve next. “The length difference probably came from cutting the fabric while it was folded unevenly.”
Marin’s eyes widened. “… HOW DID YOU KNOW?”
He smiled. “It’s a common beginner mistake.”
Marin stared. “… wow.”
He stepped back slightly. His eyes moved across the whole cosplay again. “… you learned a lot.”
Marin scratched her cheek. “… it was kinda brutal.”
He nodded. “Yes.” Then he looked at her again. “… but you finished it.”
Marin blinked. “… yeah.”
“That’s the hardest part.”
She shifted slightly. “… it’s not very good though.”
Gojo shook his head immediately. “No.”
Marin blinked again. “No?”
“This is very good.”
Marin stared at him. “…seriously?”
“Yes.” He gestured toward the cosplay. “You experimented with sewing. You learned how to fix mistakes. And you finished a full cosplay on your own.” His voice quieted slightly. “That’s very impressive.”
Marin felt her face warming. “…really?”
“Yes.” He glanced at the uneven sleeve and smiled faintly. “I especially like this part.”
Marin looked down. “…the wrong sleeve?”
He nodded. “It shows how much effort you put into learning.”
She stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “That’s the nicest way anyone’s ever described a mistake.”
Gojo looked slightly embarrassed. “I only meant...”
“I know.” Marin grinned. Her earlier nerves had completely melted away. “…thanks, Gojo.”
He nodded quietly, then looked at the cosplay again. “…would you like help adjusting the sleeve?”
Marin’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that?!”
“Of course.”
She pumped her fist. “YES!” Then she paused. “…but first.” She struck a theatrical pose. “Official first reveal!”
Gojo blinked. “…reveal?”
Marin spun once. The cosplay fluttered around her, not perfectly, but proudly.
“How does it look?”
Gojo didn’t hesitate. “I think this might be the most impressive cosplay you’ve worn.”
Marin froze and stared at him. “Wait, what?”
Gojo nodded. “You made it yourself. That’s what makes it great.”
Marin stared at him for a moment. Then her smile slowly spread, brighter than anything she had shown all day. “Okay… then it’s a total success.”
She straightened the uneven sleeve and struck the pose again, this time with a little more confidence. Gojo watched her for a moment, then nodded in quiet approval. And somehow… the sleeve didn’t look like a mistake anymore. Just a little bit of Marin’s design.