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She glanced up when she heard someone on the escalator call the name of her character–Lust, from Fullmetal Alchemist–and found herself drawn easily into conversation as he came up to her. It was a little difficult to keep track of what he was talking about, actually, but he was very nice about it, just saying that she was obviously tired and not to worry about it.

Eventually, he asked, “Who are you cosplaying as?”

“Lust,” she answered, muzzily trying to remember why it seemed odd that he would ask that now.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Who are you?”

“Lust,” she repeated.

“You are Lust.”


“Say it.”

“I am Lust?” She blinked rapidly. So tired…

“Yes, again.”

“I am Lust.”

“You are, aren’t you?” he agreed.

Finally, something clear she could fixate on! “I am Lust.”

“You are lust. What are you?”

“I am lust,” she said, glad the conversation had come around to something her tired mind could keep up with.

“Yes, that’s what you are. All you are. Nothing but lust.”

“Ohh… I… ” Her head swam. She felt so good, so hot, but so confused. She fixated on what she knew for sure. “I am lust.”

“No room for anything else in that empty little head of yours. Just lust, yearning, needy, desperate lust…”

She moaned, unable to speak, the only clear thought in her head I am lust.

He took her hand. “Come with me, and let’s see what we can do about that.”

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