Amagi Brilliant Park - Volume 1 - Chapter 1

1: The Archetypal Awful Dating Spot 
Sunday arrived. 
Amagi Station on the Toto Line was the meet-up spot that Sento Isuzu had dictated to him. As Seiya passed through the ticket gate, he caught sight of a nearby police box and paused in front of it, considering. A middle-aged patrolman noticed, and addressed him: “Something bothering you, son?” 
“No...” Seiya shook his head. For a moment, though, let’s imagine what would have happened if he had told the officer what was bothering him: 
“This weird transfer student asked me on a date under threat of musket fire! Yes sir, she had a musket. Yes, like the guns from ‘The Three Musketeers.’ They’ve also become rather famous as magical girl weapons these days. Please, you have to arrest her!” 
There was no way he would have been taken seriously. 
It wasn’t just the police, either. Over the past three days, Seiya had wavered over and over about whether or not to tell his teachers or his aunt what had happened. Each time he did, though, he arrived at the same conclusion, and ended up saying nothing. 
“......?” The officer was starting to peer at him intently. Overcome with a feeling of awkwardness, Seiya distanced himself from the police box, walking instead towards the small convenience store that stood next door. 
He casually checked his attire in the reflection in the glass. Oh, yes. Look at you, handsome! 
He was wearing a simple dark jacket and pants, with an equally plain white v-neck; the outfit emphasized that he was slender, with a defined musculature. His hair had been precisely waxed to give it just a slight illusion of motion. He had long, slender eyebrows and eyes, and his face was held at a perfect 45 degree angle that boasted of intelligence and refinement. 
Ahh, even I’d fall in love with that man in the mirror! With my spectacular looks, plus the best grades in the whole school, it’s no surprise at all that some transfer student I’ve never even talked to would want to ask me out... 
...The issue was with the “If you refuse, I’ll kill you” threat. That girl... yes, that’s what she was—one of those “yandere” types I’ve heard so much about! Her overwhelming love for me has caused her to snap emotionally. A woman in such a wretched mental state deserves pity more than anything... 
(No, no, no...) 
Like hell I’m going to pity her when she’s swinging that dangerous gun around. If it were a fruit knife, a carving knife, an icepick—the kind of weapon you see in sleazy suspense-thrillers—maybe then I could understand... 
But then, come to think of it... where had she pulled the weapon from? She’d been empty-handed when she’d first addressed me, Seiya realized. It was only when I’d asked her, “What is it?” that the gun had appeared in her hand as if from nowhere. Maybe that’s the first thing I should be wondering about... 
“There you are,” said Isuzu. 
“Hngah?!” The sudden voice from behind snapped Seiya out of his train of thought. 
Panicked, he turned around, steeled for whatever was coming, but Sento Isuzu had arrived at their meeting spot unarmed. And the outfit she was wearing was absolutely unremarkable—in fact, he might even call it appealing. She’d painted an attractive figure in her school uniform to begin with, and this was even better. 
Wonderful! And most wonderful of all, she isn’t carrying the musket! 
“Let’s get going,” Isuzu said, apparently skipping the pleasantries. 
“Where?” 
“AmaBri.” 
“Er?” Seiya was confused. 
“AmaBri,” Isuzu explained, “Amagi Brilliant Park.” 
Amagi Brilliant Park. It was an old theme park, about ten minutes from the station by bus. 
“The bus leaves from the second terminal. Follow me.” Isuzu began swiftly walking away, but he stopped her. 
“Wait, Sento—” 
“Stop stalling,” she demanded. 
“—just hang on a minute. Why are we going to that amusement park?” 
“It’s not an amusement park. It’s a theme park.” 
“Like I care. Would you just tell me what’s going on already? Why do two people who barely know each other have to go to some dodgy amusement park together?” Seiya asked, frustration rising. 
“Dodgy...?” In the blink of an eye, Isuzu had produced the musket in question from beneath her short pleated skirt, whipped it around in a precise 260 degree arc, and pointed it at Seiya’s crotch. 
A nearby woman, out with her child, stopped and stiffened. 
The child said, “Mama, that lady’s got blue striped panties. That’s standard equipment...” To which the woman replied, “Hush! Be a model member of society and pretend you don’t see!” 
Seiya wasn’t at the right angle to identify whether the child’s statement was accurate or not, but seeing him dismiss blue striped panties as “standard equipment” made Seiya fear what he might grow up to be. But... no, no, never mind that now... 
Instead, Seiya spoke up: “Why are you angry?” 
“......” 
“...There’s a whole lot of things I want you to explain,” he said, “including where you keep pulling that bizarre weapon from.” 
“Let’s go.” 
He was ignored. 
Isuzu stowed her musket away, making use of whatever inexplicable law of physics she’d used to bring it out in the first place, then began walking towards the second terminal.

Located in Amagi, a commuter town in the western part of Tokyo, the theme park in question might require a bit of explanation: 
Amagi Brilliant Park. What idiot was it who had thought up that painfully lame appellation—“brilliant?” Amagi Brilliant Park (aka AmaBri) was built during the 1980s, an amusement park (they insisted on the term “theme park”) riding the wave of the greatest excesses of the bubble economy. 
The 1980s. It was an era in which delinquents had haircuts like the bows of space battleships; idols with mushroom-cap haircuts were all the rage; and anime was heavy with streaky black shading and characters striking extreme-perspective poses. 
AmaBri’s reputation was quite negative compared to that of the world’s best theme parks. People called it a lot of things. Some called it, “The dubious legacy of the bubble economy.” Some called it, “A surefire relationship wrecker for couples who go there on a date.” Some called it, “A relic sure to baffle future archaeologists who happen to dig up Amagi City.” And among the young people of western Tokyo, AmaBri was known as “The archetypal awful dating spot.” 
Seiya had a feeling he’d gone there once with someone when he was little, but now that he was in high school, he barely remembered it at all.

They’d been on the city bus for about five minutes. They had passed through an unremarkable residential area and come out into a hilly region covered in the greens of early spring, and now a castle could be seen beyond the trees. It was an attractive castle, all done in pastel blue. 
Wow. More impressive than I’d anticipated... Seiya thought to himself. He’d been expecting the old amusement park to be rather run down, but even the coloring had a nice, modern sensibility to it. Much to his surprise, the place really looked legitimate. 
The castle in the distance gradually grew closer and closer. 
“The next stop is Amagi Brilliant Park. Disembarking passengers, please—” Seiya was just about to press the buzzer when Sento Isuzu, sitting beside him, grabbed his sleeve tight. 
“What is it?” 
“One more stop,” Isuzu answered. 
“Huh? But we’re going to Amagi Brilliant Park, aren’t we?” Seiya asked. “Isn’t that castle the front gate?” 
“......tel.” Isuzu murmured something, but he couldn’t hear it under the noise of the bus’s engine. 
“I can’t hear you.” 
“...hotel.” 
“I said I can’t hear you.” 
With a sense of deep resignation, Isuzu finally leaned in close to Seiya and spoke into his ear in a whisper that was barely more than a breath. “It’s a love hotel. It has no connection to the theme park.” 
“I... I see,” he stammered. 
“It’s a common mistake. AmaBri is the next stop down,” Isuzu explained. “The front entrance used to be here, but it was moved during renovations about ten years back. The bus station remained, though, and they built this, ah... ‘castle’ nearby.”  

As they got closer, a large sign next to the castle came into view; it read “Hotel Alamo.” Beside it was an electric sign clearly proclaiming “Rooms Available.” 
...Alamo? That’s absurd! Seiya thought. The Alamo isn’t a castle, it’s a fort. And it’s not some baroque structure, either; it was a defensive structure, specialized for practicality during the showdown between the Republic of Texas and the Mexican Army. It was a place of blood and gunpowder smoke, not some pastel fairy-tale castle that could host the kind of ball where a domestic abuse victim stupidly loses a glass slipper! 
Ugh, so misleading. And it was forcing him to go down a really awkward train of thought. You’d better make this up to me, you stupid castle! 
But Seiya managed to bite back his various internal objections, and simply state, with utmost calm: “How annoying. Why don’t they change the name of the stop?” 
“The park has been petitioning Amagi City for a change for some time, but it keeps getting put off for one reason or another,” Isuzu answered. “A lot of guests accidentally get off here and end up having to walk to the next station down.” 
“Guests?” 
“The park’s visitors. Most theme parks call their visitors ‘guests’ and the employees ‘cast.’ Remember that.” 
“Oh, really? That’s an odd thing to know...” 
Isuzu didn’t respond to his observation—she just ignored him once again. 
The city bus passed in front of Hotel Alamo and arrived at the next stop, “West Futomaru.” He hypothesized that this must be the name of the local residential area. 
“We’re here,” Isuzu announced. 
He followed her off the bus. 
Their destination was roughly 80 meters from the bus stop, up a gentle incline, and as they neared the top, the amusement park’s front entrance could be seen. The sidewalk was cracked. The gate was faded. A rusty sign read “Welcome to the Land of Wonder, Amagi Brilliant Park!” 
There was nothing particularly welcoming about it, though, Seiya thought. It felt more like the elderly owner of a run-down ramen shop saying, “Is that a customer? Well, if you want it, I’ll make it... but, are you sure?” To be frank, the love hotel from earlier had had a far more wondrous feel to it.

He took the all-day pass that Isuzu had prepared for him, passing through the front gate and into the park. Beyond the gate, he was greeted by a large fountain plaza. 
“......” 
The basin in the plaza’s central fountain was all dried up. There was no water shooting up from it... in fact, there was no water at all, just a bunch of round sculptures covered in a dingy brown moss. 
In the distance beyond the plaza loomed a large citadel—not a castle, a citadel. There was no sense of fairy tale wonder about it at all. It felt more like the kind of thing built in the Kingdom of Jerusalem during the Crusades; a place that smelled of death, staffed with soldiers ready to give their lives to repel heretic armies. 
Visitors were sparse too, he noticed; strange, given that it was Sunday. Seiya didn’t exactly frequent amusement parks himself, but even so, he’d never seen such a deserted-looking front plaza. It didn’t even look like they were cleaning it properly. 
“There sure is a lot of trash on the ground...” Seiya was whispering to no one in particular when suddenly, Isuzu turned around and spoke. 
“Where shall we go?” 
The turn caused her pleated miniskirt to rustle. It would be an appealing enough sight if they really were here on a date, but— 
“You’re the one who brought me here,” he grumbled. “You choose.” 
In response, Isuzu put a hand to her chin and considered. “...Let’s go to Sorcerer’s Hill, then.” 
“Sorcerer’s Hill?” 
“It’s one of AmaBri’s five themed areas. It’s a fairy-tale kingdom of wonders, home to the mascots from the magical realm, Maple Land.” 
“Your monotonous tone doesn’t exactly portend wonder ahead,” Seiya observed. 
“Follow me,” she instructed, and began walking towards Brilliant Park’s northern area—labeled “Sorcerer’s Hill” in the pamphlet. 
“Sheesh...” 
She was cold as ice. How, exactly, was this a date? “Full of himself” was Seiya’s default setting, but at this point, even he was starting to catch on to the fact that Sento Isuzu had no romantic interest in him at all. 
Why, then? He worked the thought over in his mind, but nothing came. Still, it seemed he had no choice but to wander around with her for a while. 
Around this dodgy amusement park...

Just as Isuzu had described, Sorcerer’s Hill had a sort of fairy tale theme: Everything in it was fairly by-the-book, from the pastel color scheme to the various attractions, coasters, and merry-go-rounds. 
Isuzu’s first stop was the “thrill coaster” attraction. Seiya cringed slightly at the sight, and she shot him a dubious glance. 
“You aren’t scared, are you?” she asked. 
“...Of course not,” Seiya scoffed. “I was just thinking, it doesn’t look like something a grown man should be riding, that’s all.” 
“I see. Let’s ride anyway.” 
With grim expressions, Seiya and Isuzu took their seats in the otherwise empty coaster, side by side. An odd fanfare played, and the car took off. The speed kept a comfortable pace from beginning to end. There wasn’t much in the way of steep hills, and even the sharpest curve didn’t offer more than just a slight tilt. For a supposed “thrill coaster,” there wasn’t much thrill to be found. 
As they got out of the coaster, Isuzu spoke up: “Did you have fun?” 
“No.” 
“I see,” she observed. “Let’s move on, then.” She promptly started walking towards a new destination. 
With nothing else to say, Seiya followed silently. 
Their next stop was an attraction called “Tiramii’s Flower Adventure.” It was a building about the size of a school gymnasium, with fairy tale flora painted on the walls. At the entrance was a statue of a mascot that looked a bit like a Pomeranian: It had round, button eyes and a rotund body that stood about three heads tall. It was a fairly cute design, all things considered. This mascot, he inferred, must be “Tiramii.” 
The attraction itself consisted of boarding a four-person car on a track, which would escort you around the fairy tale garden that Tiramii had grown. This one, too, was— “Awful.” 
The worst part of it was that the car seemed poorly attached to its track, which caused it to jostle frequently. In a way, it was more “thrilling” than the thrill coaster had been. It also made him motion sick. 
Here and there they were greeted by “talking flower” animatronics, but their drive assemblies must have broken down, because their movements were jerky and jittery. On top of that, no thought had been put into the audio mixing, so it was hard to tell what exactly the flowers were saying: they were probably supposed to be saying “Welcome to Tiramii’s Flower Adventure!” but what actually reached the ear was the far more unsettling “Eccum... eerami... ewere... enture!” More than anything, it brought the image of the maddening shriek of the deadly mandrake to Seiya’s mind. 
“How did you like it?” Isuzu asked again. 
“It took years off my life.” 
“I see. Let’s move on, then.” This time, there was something halfhearted in Isuzu’s own reply. 
“Wait,” Seiya said. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?” 
“Like what?” 
“I mean...” 
Looking drained, she picked up on the hint. “I think the music theater should be fun. Look, over there.” 
But “Macaron’s Music Theater,” whose sign offered a sheep-like mascot playing a violin, was declared “Closed Today.” 
“But it’s Sunday,” he objected incredulously. “They’re taking the day off?” 
“...He takes off whenever he’s not in the mood,” Isuzu sighed. “The Fairy of Music, Macaron, plays quite brilliantly—but unfortunately, he has an artistic temperament.” 
“Ahh...” 
“Let’s move on.” 
The next site they visited was the building diagonally-opposite the music theater, “Moffle’s House of Sweets.” Like the “Flower Adventure” from before, this was an indoor attraction. It was a bit like the gingerbread house from the Grimm fairy tale, decorated with pancakes, whipped cream, strawberries, oranges, and other sweet treats. 
“Welcome...” 
When they came inside, a glassy-eyed employee (or “cast member,” as Isuzu insisted) handed them water pistols. No, they weren’t water pistols... These were laser pointers designed to look like water pistols. You pulled the trigger, and it shot a laser. 
In the entrance hall hung a large screen, which played a video explaining how the attraction worked: 
“Welcome to the shop of Moffle, Fairy of Sweets! Unfortunately, the bakery has been overrun by naughty rats! Use your magic water pistols and teach those rats a lesson!” 
The video was followed by detailed safety instructions: 
Don’t look into the barrel of the pistol (because of the lasers). 
Don’t be rough with the pistol (because of its delicate construction). 
Please return the pistols to the box by the exit (because of the cost). 
“If you shoot a lot of rats, Moffle will take a great souvenir photo with you! Do your best, everyone!” 
Ahh, he thought. He’d grasped the gist of it: They’d be firing the laser pointers at something like those animatronics from before, competing for points. Unlike the previous attractions, this seemed like it might have some game-like appeal. 
“Okay! Start the battle!” 
The double doors in the back of the room opened automatically. It was, apparently, an attraction where the visitors had to proceed on foot. It seemed like a recipe for trouble if there was a big crowd there, he thought, but there was no need for concern in that regard—after all, even on a Sunday, the place was totally deserted. 
“Go on,” Isuzu urged him, and Seiya proceeded in. 
He found himself in a passage designed to look like a kitchen: there was a fancy wash station, an oven, grill, etc. Animatronic rats popped out randomly here and there. 
He fired. 
He turned the water gun-shaped laser pointer towards a rat and shot. 
He hit. He missed. He missed. He missed. He hit. “Faster than I expected...” Even more rats appeared, one after another. 
He missed. He missed. He missed. He missed. He finally hit... 
“They’re too fast,” Seiya criticized. 
“We’re coming to the storage room,” Isuzu said in reply. “Be on your guard.” 
“Huh?” They moved from the kitchen into the storage room, where the naughty rats started coming even faster. 
He missed. He missed. He missed. He missed. He missed. 
“Hold on a minute! This is a little too hard, don’t you think?!” 
“You’re wasting a lot of ammo.” 
“What the hell did you expe—” 
“You waste a lot of breath, too.” 
It wasn’t all animatronics; some of the rats were holograms as well. They’d appear, feint left or right, then disappear without even giving you time to take aim. It would be impossible for an ordinary human’s eyes to follow them. 
They ended up coming to the final room without racking up many points at all. 
Then came another announcement: “Too bad! You didn’t kill very many! Great try, though!” 
“W-Were we killing them?” Seiya interjected. “I thought we were ‘teaching them a lesson’!” 
Why the hell was the premise so violent? Wouldn’t hearing the word “kill” in a family-friendly atmosphere be kind of a shock to most people? 
Despite Seiya’s objections, the announcement continued. “Moffle is very grateful to you! Go get your souvenir photo taken with him in the next room!” The door in the back opened for them. 
Since just standing around wouldn’t get them anywhere, he and Isuzu walked towards it in grim silence. They dropped their guns into the return box, then proceeded down the hallway that would take them to the last room. 
“You’ll be able to have your souvenir photo taken with Moffle now,” Isuzu told him. 
“You mean that ‘Fairy of Sweets’ thing?” 
“Yes,” she replied. “He’s AmaBri’s headliner mascot.” 
“...I’m not really interested in getting a picture with some guy in a costume,” Seiya admitted. 
“Just meet him, would you? It’ll be fun,” she said, in a tone utterly bereft of such. 
With an air of resignation, Seiya followed after Isuzu.

The corridor led them into a small photo studio. The right half of the room was set up like a bakery, stuffed with prop donuts and cakes, and there was an old-fashioned mechanical register on the counter. 
I guess it’s the backdrop for the photo with this Moffle person, he thought, but the mascot in question wasn’t anywhere to be seen. There wasn’t even a clerk present. The studio was completely uninhabited. 
“What’s going on here?” Seiya wondered. 
“We get guests here so rarely...” Isuzu apologized. “He’s probably resting in the back.” 
“......” 
“Press the service bell next to the register. Then he’ll come.” 
Seiya did as he was told. The bell let out a pleasant ‘ding.’ He waited for a while. 
At last, from behind the counter, the mascot— Did not arrive. He tapped the bell again, this time with a little more force. Still, nobody came. 
“...I’m thinking he’s not in,” Seiya concluded. “Let’s just go.” 
“No. Let’s wait a little longer.” 
“Why should I? I’m under no obligation to wait here in this half-assed attraction for some minor mascot to grace me with his presence. I mean—” He was interrupted by a clack. 
The iron employees-only door—hidden behind the counter—opened, and the mascot in question plodded into view. 
“Moffu.” He was about 2.5 heads tall, his silhouette soft and huggable. 
Is he supposed to be a mouse? Seiya wondered. His appearance was undeniably rodentine, but his plump, rotund body was a bit more akin to that of a wombat or a guinea pig. Definitely a strange creature, either way. 
He had big button eyes and plush, stubby arms, and he was wearing a white chef’s costume and hat. All fairly by-the-book signifiers of cuteness, but he had to give them credit for getting that much right. 
“...That’s the park’s headliner mascot, Moffle, the Fairy of Sweets,” said Isuzu, by way of introduction. “Height: 144 centimeters. Weight: Top secret. Top running speed: 35 km per hour. Special skills: Making cakes and playing soccer. Favorite food: Anything sweet, especially donuts. In addition to his current patisserie gear, he also has tuxedo gear for formal outings.” 
“What’s with the ‘new mobile suit’-style explanation?” Seiya asked. 
Moffle stepped up to Seiya and Isuzu, his feet squeaking as he went. 
“Moffu.” 
“I want a souvenir photo with him,” Isuzu told the rodent. “Okay?” 
“......” Moffle gave a firm nod in response to Isuzu’s question. He whipped a smartphone out from under his apron, manipulated it adroitly with his squishy paw, then held the phone up to Seiya and Isuzu and snapped the picture. He then showed them the image on the smartphone, as if to say, “There, I took it.” 
“Wait, wait... Why did you take a picture of us?!” Seiya demanded. 
“Moffu...” Moffle’s brows knitted—a pretty impressive bit of suit design. 
“Don’t glare at me! We’re your customers, you know!” 
“Calm down, Kanie-kun,” Isuzu urged him. 
“Shut up! I am calm!” 
But Seiya was sensing something from this mascot creature that was hard to put into words: something like destiny. Not the good kind of destiny, of course. It felt more like a sense of deep foreboding—like meeting your mortal enemy, or a bad penny that would keep turning up. 
“W... Well anyway,” Seiya spluttered, “I’ve had enough of this. Why would I want a souvenir photo with this minor-league, worthless, wise-ass mascot anyway? Let’s just move on already.” 
But as Seiya started heading toward the exit— “Moffu!” Suddenly, Moffle kicked him in the butt. 
“Wh-What are you doing?!” Seiya shouted as he picked himself up and whipped back around. 
But Moffle’s response was far from contrite—he actually tilted his head toward the floor and made a motion like spitting. 
Definitely a wise-ass attitude. 
“The things you said about him made him angry,” Isuzu told him. 
“Whatever I said about him, what the hell kind of mascot kicks a customer?! Look, now he’s baiting me like he’s a boxer!” 
Moffle was performing a little light footwork, hissing through his teeth while jabbing rhythmically into the air. 
“Why, you little...!” 
So some jerk in a costume wants to fight me, does he? Fine! I don’t want to get stuck with the bill for damaging the suit, but I can’t just let this stand. I can’t leave here until I lay this guy out, just once. Seiya was about to step forward to do just that when— 
“Moffu!” Moffle came running. He closed the gap between them in an instant. His paw tore through the air and hit Seiya right in the solar plexus. Ker-MOFF! 
“Hnngh!” Seiya’s breath caught in his throat. 
It was hard. It was heavy. It was one hell of a fist—rather, a paw. No simple mascot in a costume could dish a blow like this. Then again, no matter how rotten the theme park might be, maybe it meant something to be a headliner mascot... 
Seiya fell to his knees, doubled over. 
Looking down his nose at him, Moffle beckoned him with his paw. 
“Damn you...” 
But Seiya wasn’t finished yet. His dignity couldn’t bear the thought of not getting a single clean hit in against the bizarre cuddly mouse-thing. His weak point... what’s the mouse’s weak point? 
“That’s enough.” Isuzu’s musket slipped in between them. She must have pulled it out again at some point. “Any more of this could get one of you killed. I won’t let a place of hopes and dreams like the House of Sweets be stained with blood. I need you both to stop it, right now.” 
“When exactly did this place contain hopes and dreams, again?” Seiya scorned. 
“Moffu...” 
“If you insist on continuing,” warned Isuzu, “you’ll both have to deal with me.” Another musket appeared from underneath her skirt. With one in each hand, now, she thrust them mercilessly at Seiya and Moffle both. 

“Ugh...” 
So she has more than one, does she? She seems serious about this, too... Out of fear for his safety, he decided to relent. 
Seiya reluctantly stepped down. Moffle lowered his fists (well, paws) at the same time. For some reason, he didn’t seem at all surprised to see Isuzu’s weapons. 
She turned to Seiya. “Well, Kanie-kun? Did you enjoy communicating with Moffle through your fists?” 
“Uh, it felt more like he beat the crap out of me...” he confessed. 
“Do you think you can be friends now?” 
“Hold on,” he objected. “Why would I want to be friends with this homicidal rodent?” 
“Moffu.” Moffle’s vocalization suggested an equal dissatisfaction with the idea. Seiya was surprised anew by how much emotion he could convey through a costume-mounted speaker. 
“...Well, never mind that now,” Isuzu said, placating both parties. “I took your souvenir photo, so let’s go somewhere else.” 
“Souvenir photo?” said Seiya, somewhat incredulously. 
Isuzu held out her own smartphone. She had captured the moment when Moffle had slammed his paw into him. There was an afterimage blur, and it was taken from a low angle, which added to the sense of gruesome impact. 
“I’m not sure this counts as a souvenir photo...” he grumbled. 
“Let’s go.” Isuzu began walking towards the exit. Left with little other choice, Seiya followed after her. 
Moffle spat once more, then squeaked his way back behind the counter. 
What the hell?! He’s the worst mascot ever! He’s just some gangster-ass mouse dressed up like a cook! Seiya scoffed to himself, then spoke aloud. “What kind of lowlife punk did they stick inside that thing?” 
“There’s no one inside,” Isuzu said absently. 
“What?” 
“Moffle is Moffle. There’s no one inside.” 
“Huh? Oh...” 
That’s right. He’d heard of this before. To preserve the sense of wonder for children, theme parks generally wouldn’t acknowledge the existence of suit actors inside their mascot costumes. The really serious first-rate theme parks even made their suit actors adhere to strict rules of confidentiality. After all, it would be a huge problem if one of them was overheard on a train saying something like “I was in the **ck*y suit, today. Let me tell you about this one little brat I ran into...” That was probably what Isuzu meant by “there’s no one inside.” 
“...Sure. That’s what we’ll tell everyone.” His response was a sarcastic one, but she shook her head in response. 
“That’s not what I mean,” she insisted. “I mean there’s really no one inside.” 
“Yeah, yeah. That’s totally what we’ll tell everyone.” 
Leaving the deeply unpleasant “Moffle’s House of Sweets” behind, Seiya and Isuzu went around to several other attractions. Many of them were closed, even though it was a Sunday, and the ones that were open weren’t particularly entertaining. All-in-all, it was a miserable experience. Even the snack shop they stopped by when he started getting peckish—“Maple Kitchen,” it was called—only offered curry, yakisoba, and croquettes. When he asked for yakisoba, he was told “We can make it, but it’ll take an hour.” 
“Why an hour?” he demanded to know. 
“We’ll have to go buy the ingredients. That means a trip to the local supermarket,” responded a clerk who was clearly just there part-time. 
Overwhelmingly awful! 
His tolerance had reached its limits. Slapping the tabletop, Seiya leaned in close to Isuzu. “What the hell is this about, Sento? How long are you going to keep me on this awful date?!” 
“Are you angry?” she wanted to know. 
“You bet I am! These dodgy attractions, this dodgy snack corner... It’s got a dedication to appearance that makes the local love hotel look good, and the employees treat the customers like crap! How could anyone have fun in a place like this?!” 
He was done. Let her threaten him with the musket if she wanted. 
“This place holds the very concept of entertainment in contempt!” he continued. “It seems to think ‘Hey, they’re just kids, who cares?’ But kids aren’t stupid! You need to be utterly meticulous with them! You need to put effort into the tiniest details! You can’t do it if you don’t give a damn! You need passion and conviction, and I don’t see even a fragment of it here! If you want to make people dream, first, you need to believe in that dream! And if you can’t even convince kids, then what’s the point? I’m saying...” 
“......” 
“I’m saying... ahh...” he trailed off. 
Isuzu’s eyes had gone wide. It was as if she couldn’t believe the words coming out of Seiya’s mouth. 
(Now I’ve gone and done it...) Seiya thought, immediately filled with regret. He’d been so careful never to say anything like that in front of anyone. 
“‘If you want to make people dream, first, you need to believe in that dream’... That does hurt to hear,” she admitted. 
Seiya said nothing. 
“I don’t think an ordinary high school student would be able to come up with something like that.” 
“Don’t give me the credit. I just read it in a book somewhere.” He looked out the window, feigning ignorance. 
But Isuzu wouldn’t let him off the hook. “I thought you were angry because you were threatened by a girl you barely knew into wandering aimlessly around a theme park,” she mused. “But you were angry for a completely different reason. It’s as if you’re mad at the theme park itself. That’s interesting.” 
“What’s this? It’s almost like you realize what a pain in the neck you’ve been.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but she didn’t show any sign of being hurt by it. 
“I didn’t say that to make you angry,” Isuzu said. “I was just impressed by your insight about the ‘monster’ that is entertainment.” 
“Look, what are you getting at?” he wanted to know. “What exactly are you after with me?” 
“...‘Kodama Seiya.’” The moment the words left Isuzu’s lips, Seiya’s face tensed. “He was a brilliant child performer from a few years back, I’m told. He was an amazing talent with incredible charm; he played the piano at a professional level; and he had an excellent singing voice. He could be a bit bratty, but he was always earnest when it mattered, and he could even play perfectly off of veteran entertainers. He was society’s idea of the perfect child, and in high demand for commercials and dramas.” 
Seiya remained silent in the face of her accusation. 
“But about five years ago, Kodama Seiya suddenly retired from show business. The talent agencies and companies he canceled on saw terrible losses as a result, I believe. The reason he gave was ‘I want to focus on school and family,’ but nobody knows if that’s true. Kodama Seiya fell off the map after that...” Isuzu turned her gaze out the window, looking out over Amagi Brilliant Park. “He would be in high school by now... I wonder what he’d say if he saw an amusement park like this.” 
“I see now...” A completely new kind of anger began to rise up in Seiya’s chest. “...You knew everything. That’s why you brought me out here.” 
“Who would ever ask an egomaniac like you on a date otherwise?” Isuzu replied without even a hint of a smile. 
“I don’t know what you’re after, but Kodama Seiya died a long time ago. Wiped from the face of the earth. If you’re thinking you can get some stupid child actor to do something for you, you’ve got another thing coming.” Seiya stood up. “I’m out of here. Threaten me with your freak weapon if you want to.” 
“...Very well,” she concluded. “But first, eat these croquettes.” Rather than drawing her weapon, she offered the croquettes on the table to Seiya. He’d been forced to buy them when they didn’t have any yakisoba. 
“Hmm?” 
“They’re best when they’re still hot.” 
“Who cares about the stupid croquettes?” 
“Just try them.” For some reason, her voice was utterly resolute. 
Seiya relented, took a croquette, and brought it to his mouth. It was just some item off a cheap snack shop menu. It couldn’t possibly be any good. 
That was what he was thinking as he took his first bite, but— 
“...Muh.” 
What on earth? It was great. Absolutely delicious. 
The breading wasn’t too thick, just nicely crunchy, and inside it was juicy and fluffy. The plentiful minced meat blended with the potatoes, which had been painstakingly mashed, to create a perfect flavor balance. To be quite honest, he had never had a croquette like it before. 
“Delicious, isn’t it?” 
“Mm... Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “It is.” 
“They make these here,” she told him. “You can’t get them anywhere else.” 
“Did you make them?” he asked. Given the way she’d been talking all this time, it seemed like she was connected to AmaBri somehow. Which meant— 
“No,” she responded, “someone else did. Would you like to meet them before you go?” 
“Meet them? I don’t understand.” 
“Don’t worry,” Isuzu advised, “Just eat.” 
“......” Spurred on by the exquisite flavor, Seiya silently polished off the remaining croquettes. They really were delicious. It was an amusement park lacking in hopes and dreams, but these croquettes, at least, were something else.

He wouldn’t say, exactly, that the croquettes had charmed him into it, but Seiya decided to hang out with Isuzu a bit longer. 
After passing through a door labeled “Authorized Personnel Only,” he was led around Amagi Brilliant Park’s backstage area by Isuzu. It appeared she had a key for the “employees only” doors. 
“I knew you had some connection to this place,” Seiya accused. 
“I didn’t mention it?” Isuzu replied carelessly. 
“You didn’t,” he grumbled. “Though it was easy enough to guess from the way you talked about it...” 
“Wear this pass around your neck,” she said, and handed him a card on a lanyard. It was a guest pass with the words “LEVEL 4” printed in large letters. 
“What’s this ‘LEVEL 4’ part mean?” he asked. 
“That’s your security clearance,” she told him. “The newest part-time workers are limited to level one sections. The highest level is five. Dangerous areas—like the generator facilities and those housing important company secrets—require level five clearance.” 
“That’s some tight security you’ve got going there...” he said, stifling the urge to add “...for such a crummy amusement park.” 
“This is fairly standard, actually,” Isuzu explained. “The level four pass I gave you will get you into most places.” 
“You’re entrusting some pretty major security clearance to an outsider like me...” Seiya sounded suspicious. 
“That’s because you’ll need it to get where we’re going—to see the manager of the park.” 
“Manager?” 
Isuzu continued to lead him through the backstage area. 
He’d never been backstage at an amusement park before, but he shouldn’t have been too surprised to see it was a typical boring employee passageway: flavorless, colorless, and charmless. Here and there lay stacks of cleaning tools and cardboard boxes, alongside ever-present signs enumerating disaster guidelines and cast shift schedules. If he showed someone a picture of just this area and told them he’d been inside a military base, they might actually believe him. 
They took a stairway down to an underground passage. Then, after a little more walking, they reached an elevator. It was at this point that Isuzu spoke again: “We’re currently at the center of the park, directly below Maple Castle. We can take this elevator to the castle’s top floor.” 
“Maple Castle?” Seiya questioned. He suddenly remembered that excessively imposing castle he’d seen from the park entrance. That hadn’t been a fairy tale castle by any means; it was a fortress designed for practicality, with loopholes and a moat. It radiated austere fortitude. It felt like the kind of place where attacking armies would be met with rains of bacteria-infected feces and cauldrons of boiling hot oil. 
They took the elevator up to the top floor, passed through a short hallway straight ahead, and arrived at a rooftop garden.

A rooftop garden. That was the only way to describe the place he’d found himself. 
Above him lay a sky glowing with the first tinges of sunset. Before him lay flowers starting to bud with the warmth of spring. And at the center of it all lay a small, still pond. There was a breathtaking mix of light and shadow in the garden, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of tranquility and refinement. It was, by far, the most wondrous thing he’d seen in all the time he’d spent in this amusement park. 
At the edge of the garden stood a girl. Her silver hair had a whitish cast, which seemed to sparkle beneath the blazing red sky, and the breezy material of her long, white dress gently embraced a delicate frame. She ran her fingers over a flower whose name he did not know, then murmured something to a small bird who had alighted nearby. 
Seiya was struck by a strange sense of déjà vu; it was almost as if he had been here before. As he watched, too spellbound to act, Isuzu spoke up from beside him. “Go on. I’ll wait here.” 
“Huh? But...” 
“Go.” 
Reluctantly, he stepped out into the garden. The unfamiliar girl turned to face him, and the bird, perched on her finger, flew away. 
What was she, fourteen? Fifteen? The closer Seiya got, the better he could make out her face. There was something mysterious about her features—something that inspired strong affection in him. He was so enchanted that all other thoughts flew from his mind. Had he ever been so taken with anyone in his life? 
It was only when he came within a few steps of her that he realized it: She wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were focused on a point somewhere over his head—some vacant space in the evening sky above. Could it be... is she blind? 
While Seiya wrestled with himself over what to say, she spoke. “Would you be Kanie Seiya-sama, by chance?” 
“Huh?” he spluttered, caught off guard by her question. “Oh... Yes, I am...” 
He was right. She was blind. 
“I am very glad to have you here, Kanie-sama. I am Latifah... Latifah Fleuranza. I am the manager of this theme park. I must offer you my warmest thanks for coming here to see me.” 
A foreign name? I wasn’t expecting that... Then again, she did look foreign. And... she was the manager? This young girl? 
“S-Sure... I don’t get most of this, but... er, it’s nice to meet you,” he answered, still disoriented. 
The girl who called herself Latifah smiled and let out a soft noise of excitement. It was as if she was saying “I’ve been waiting so long to meet you.” 
“I pray that Isuzu-san has done nothing to offend you,” Latifah apologized on behalf of her employee. “If she has upset you in any way, I hope that you will forgive her—she has very little experience in interacting with gentlemen.” 
“Oh. Well... I’ve been afraid for my life a few times,” Seiya admitted, “but I’m still in one piece, I guess.” 
“I see.” There was a diplomatic pause, and then Latifah continued, “...I must confess, it is I who asked her to bring you here. For there is something that I must ask of you.” 
“Ask of me?” Seiya said doubtfully. 
“Yes,” she affirmed. “Follow me this way, and I shall explain.” Her dress rippling behind her, Latifah began walking down the flagstone pathway, and further into the garden. Despite her apparent blindness, she must have known the garden like the back of her hand—there was no uncertainty in her gait whatsoever. 
A little ways down the path, they found a terrace. There was a table with a mosaic-patterned marble top waiting there, flanked by elegantly wrought iron chairs. Atop the table sat a china tea set. 
“Do sit.” Latifah invited him. 
“S-Sure...” 
Latifah made them tea. Her every movement was the epitome of grace. She poured hot water into the cups, first, and carefully steamed the tea leaves while waiting for them to warm. “You smell of fried foods,” she said. 
“Huh?” 
“Have you been eating croquettes at Maple Kitchen, by chance? I hope very much that you enjoyed them,” she said, a playful note in her tone. 
“Did you make those?” Seiya wanted to know. 
“Yes, I did,” Latifah admitted modestly. “I make them every day, hoping only that the guests might enjoy them.” 
I see. So she’s the one who made them... 
“Those croquettes were...” he trailed off, briefly recalling their taste and texture, “...delicious.” 
“Thank you,” said Latifah, graciously accepting the compliment. “As you may have noticed, I am blind, but I can tell when they are cooked by listening to the sounds of the frying oil.” 
Seiya was concerned. “You cook them yourself? Isn’t that dangerous?” 
“Not at all,” she laughed. “Those croquettes are my pride and joy. Though I fear that my tea may be somewhat less pleasing... Please, help yourself.” 
She placed a teacup in front of Seiya. It was billowing with fragrant steam with a calming aroma. He blew on it lightly, then took a sip. 
Delicious. He was far from an expert on black tea, but in his opinion, it was incredible. 
“Is it to your taste?” she wanted to know. 
“It’s incredible,” Seiya replied. 
“I am very glad to hear that.” Latifah smiled quietly. It was a smile like the sun behind the mountains at twilight. 
Enraptured, Seiya gazed at that smile for a few moments, before clearing his throat. “...I don’t really understand any of this. What did you want to ask me to do? And who are you?” he asked. “I’m already reeling at the fact that there’s a place like this at the center of an amusement park that’s so... you know.” 
“Of course,” she said soothingly. “Have you seen our Amagi Brilliant Park?” 
“In exhaustive detail.” Yeah, definitely. “Exhaustive” was the right word... 
“How did you find it?” 
It’s the worst amusement park I’ve ever been to... It would be easy enough for him to say that, but for some reason, the words caught on his tongue. 
Nevertheless, a look of melancholy fell over her face, suggesting that she could read his thoughts from his manner. “You are dissatisfied. You found it displeasing, then?” 
“Well... I...” he trailed off, unsure of what to say next. 
“This is what I wished to ask you, Kanie-sama: Will you take this amusement park, which hangs on the verge of ruin, and revive it?” It was an earnest proposal. 
“Wha...?” Seiya couldn’t believe his ears. What the hell? Revive this crummy amusement park? Me? 
“I want you to become the manager of Amagi Brilliant Park,” Latifah explained. “I officially ask this of you, Kanie Seiya, as a member of the royal family of the magical realm, Maple Land.”

What the hell are you babbling about? That’s what he’d say under most circumstances—challenging her sanity—but this girl, Latifah, seemed far too rational and refined for that to be a likely explanation. 
While Seiya was still struggling to figure out what to say, she spoke again. “Do you think me mad?” 
“Well, I...” 
“But I swear to you,” she told him solemnly, “this is a matter of utmost seriousness. I am asking you to save our amusement park, because I believe that you can do it.” 
“Okay,” he managed to respond, “but... this is all pretty out of nowhere. I can’t say ‘oh, sure’ just like that... you know?” 
“Yes... of course, you are correct.” The girl smiled peacefully, her face lowered. “It must sound like nonsense to you, an inhabitant of the mortal realm. But this amusement park is an important dream ager constructed here in your world by the magical realm, Maple Land.” 
So this amusement park... was built by a... “magical realm?” And what was a dream ager? 
“A... magical realm, huh?” 
“There are many other realms like it,” Latifah told him, and went on to explain further. “The Dream Kingdom, Regnum Somni; the Animal Republic, Polytear; the Schubert Empire with its swords and sorcery; the future land Avenir... There are many such realms, and Maple Land is one of them. It exists in the threshold between the sea and the land. Many of these realms build ager here in the mortal world—ager is a word that means ‘field’ in your language—Digimaland is one of the most famous; Cosmic Studios and Highlander Fujimi are ager as well.” 
“Uhh...” 
“An ager is a happiness farm. It allows us to gather together feelings of joy and excitement from those who visit the park and crystallize them into animus, which is an important source of energy for us.” 
“......” 
Latifah seemed to pick up on Seiya’s dumbfounded reaction. “It must all sound very unbelievable... It is not common knowledge among inhabitants of the mortal world. That is why... first, I shall give you the gift of magic.” 
“Magic?” Seiya parroted in confusion. 
“I do not know what kind of magic it will be,” Latifah mused. “That is up to the whim of the goddess Libra. But perhaps the magic will enable you to understand...” 
“Huh?” 
The girl leaned over the table with a slight flush in her cheeks. A sense of bashfulness and hesitance appeared in the vast pools of her eyes. “Kanie-sama. Please, stay right where you are.” 
“Huh?” 
“N-Now then... pardon me...” 
“Huh?” He didn’t even have time to get away. 
Her small, pretty lips touched his in a kiss. It was a soft sensation. A warm sensation. That’s all it was, so why was it hitting him so hard? Why did he feel this powerful electricity shooting down his neck? 
A kiss from a girl who had seemed so utterly chaste— His mind went blank. It was hard to breathe. As the gentle sensation moved away—slowly, lingeringly, wistfully—Seiya felt something else rushing into his mind. Limitless emotion—a powerful, indescribable something that was burrowing deep, deep inside a part of his humanity. 

I don’t understand, Seiya thought. I just came out here on this shady date because a weird girl threatened me. How did it come to this? Why is this happening? 
Something was coming. Magic—a mysterious magic that someone, somewhere, had prepared for him through means he would never know. 
“Do not forget—” the girl told him from across a gulf of vast whiteness. “My feelings—the first and last time that you will ever know them...” 
The first thing he felt was love, followed by an unendurable melancholy, and then timeworn nostalgia. A small boy, walking away in twilight. He looked back and said this: “I’m with you. I will save you—”

Wait, wait... this is a beautiful mood and all but... at least give me some kind of explana— 

With a feeling as if he’d been struck by lightning, Kanie Seiya lost consciousness. 
 
The strains of Hotaru no Hikari drifted through the air as the amusement park sank into twilight. 
Moffle had entertained 28 guests at his attraction today. A mere three of them had taken the souvenir photo with him, one of those being that arrogant child, Kanie Seiya. 
So damned few, and on a Sunday at that... In the old days, they’d have had more guests than they could count, all climbing over each other to get into Moffle’s House of Sweets. Crowds of children with smiling faces... the excitement, the shrieks, the laughter... That was all in the past now. 
“Moffu...” He shut off the lights for the attraction, then did a little basic clean-up. They didn’t have the money to hire a maintenance crew to work overnight, so disinfecting the water pistol-shaped laser pointers with medicinal alcohol, checking to make sure they still worked, and changing the batteries were all things he did himself. It was also his job to repair and touch up any animatronics that might have broken down over the course of time, as was checking the fire systems and locking up after. 
Once all the work was done, Moffle, Fairy of Sweets, would stop in with the part-time cast member who worked with him. “Time to close up shop, fumo.” 
“Thank you, sir,” the part-timer would respond brusquely, then head straight for the cast service door. 
Not a single word of small talk. The boy was under the impression that Moffle was a company employee who did his work in a mascot suit because they were short-handed. Ah, well. Let him think what he likes. What good would it do to tell him that the manager at his part-time job is an honest-to-goodness fairy from a magical realm called Maple Land? 
Moffle plodded his way down the underground passage, returned the Moffle’s House of Sweets key at the security center, signed it back in with the time of return, then punched his time card. 
“Moffle-san. How did things go with the guests today?” The elderly security guard—this one knew what he really was—asked him in a kindly voice. 
“Typical, fumo. Though one had a chip on his shoulder, and we got into a bit of a scuffle.” 
“Ah, I see,” the security guard sympathized. “I know it’s hard, but try to hang in there.” 
“Thanks, fumo.” 
Normally, this would be when he’d leave the park behind and go fill himself up at a yakitori restaurant with his mascot friends. But today he had something else on his mind, so Moffle turned back. 
The old security guard, who had been prepared to check his belongings as per their usual routine, called to Moffle as he walked away. “You’re not leaving yet?” 
“Nah.” 
Typically, when employees left work for the day, they had to undergo a token search of their belongings. There were so many of them, after all, and they weren’t under the illusion that there was no one in the park who might try to smuggle merchandise or equipment and sell it off somewhere. Inspections like that were standard in most department stores and amusement parks. Of course, the dedicated full-time employees hated it, but— 
“I’m gonna speak to the manager, fumo.” 
“Latifah-san, eh?” The security guard said with a smile. “Say hello to her for me, would you?” 
“Right.” Moffle recalled that the old security guard was a fan of hers. Not an uncommon trait among the full-timers—it was one of the few things that kept the fading morale there hanging on by a thread. 
Moffle wouldn’t say he was a fan, himself. He had an affection for Latifah, surely enough—but that was because she was his niece. And while she cared for him too, the feelings were entirely platonic. 
After a trip through the underground corridors in an electric cart, Moffle arrived at Maple Castle’s rooftop garden. Latifah came running immediately, her expression joyful. “Uncle!” 
He’d told her time and again that it wasn’t safe for her to run... 
He embraced her tightly. She’s lost weight again, Moffle thought. She feels so light. But of course, that curse is still eating away at her... 
“Did you meet the Kanie boy?” he asked. 
“I did,” she told him. “The Bestowal of Magic caused him to lose consciousness, so I asked Isuzu-san to see him home.” 
“Is that so, fumo...” 
So she’s kissed him, then. Moffle felt a small prick in his chest, like his heart was being stuck with a needle. With a kiss, a woman of Maple Land’s royal family could bestow magic on a man chosen by her divine revelation. 
No one knew what kind of magic it would result in, as it was different for everybody. Generally speaking, though, it would be whatever kind of magic the man needed. A man chosen during a time of battle would learn battle magic. A man chosen during an epidemic would learn healing magic. It was all up to the whim of the goddess Libra. That was what the elders of Maple Land said, at any rate. He couldn’t vouch for it himself. 
“...We went a few rounds together when he stopped by my House of Sweets,” Moffle said. “Not much of a man, by my estimation. I doubt he’ll be much use in saving the park, fumo.” 
“Really?” Latifah said doubtfully. “But have you not read the profile that Isuzu-san wrote about him?” 
“I have, fumo.”

This was the last paragraph of the report written by the aforementioned elite member of the Maple Land royal guard: 
...Given this information, we can ascertain that the Kanie Seiya indicated by the revelation is possessed of a dual nature; one side is that of a rational commander and level-headed strategist. The other is that of a passionate artist and entertainer who understands the needs of the people. To make use of both at once will be challenging, and he seems possessed of an internal conflict about this aspect of himself, as well. 
In my own humble opinion, I believe that the herculean task of revitalizing Amagi Brilliant Park can only be achieved by a mortal with this dual nature. 
First Royal Guard of Maple Land, Yisuzurch Saintlucia. 

Moffle just chalked down the reasoning on behalf of the girl (her Japanese name was Sento Isuzu) to her youth: of course she’d want this Kanie Seiya to be their savior. Of course she’d want him to be someone who could turn around their failing amusement park. But the situation they were in wasn’t nearly so forgiving. 
“Isuzu may have a high opinion of him, but I’ve got my doubts, fumo. A man’s character can’t turn around a slumping economy.” Whether it was a business or a country, when a community stagnated, there was always a reason for it. A systematic reason that couldn’t be fought. Even if this boy happened to be a genius, there was nothing any one man could do about it. 
“...Then you believe that there is nothing to be done, and that we should simply allow it to fall?” Latifah asked sadly. 
Moffle was at a loss for words. “I didn’t... say that, fumo...” 
“There must be a reason why the guests have abandoned us,” she protested. “Some reason that is beyond our comprehension. If the guests are mortals, then, why not leave the park’s management to a mortal? ...That is my proposal.” 
“I hear you, fumo...” But, despite his answer, Moffle still thought... It’s not going to be that easy. 
They had a mere two weeks left. To get the necessary number of people—approximately 100,000—to visit the park in that time was just not possible. They’d have to maintain a pace of over 7,000 visitors per day. Even on a Sunday, their most popular day of the week, their total attendance rarely broke 3,000. 
The cast were doing everything that was in their power to do. But, despite all that, no one was coming. There was nothing to be done about that. 
Then, if the park couldn’t reach its goal, they were going to get the run of the place. They’d close the park. They’d fire all the cast. They’d tear down all the structures and put up some chemical-smothered golf course. And then, Latifah would... 
“So? What did you end up doing with the Kanie boy, fumo?” 
“In the interest of caution, I have asked Isuzu-san to spend the night with him,” Latifah said. “She will handle any problems that might occur.” 
“...You know the age that boy’s at, fumo. Isuzu’s a royal guard with a nice body. I hope there won’t be any mishaps, fumo.” 
“What do you mean, ‘mishaps’?” 
Moffle snorted in response. “Latifah, there are things in this world that you don’t understand. Men are wolves, fumo. They’ll shift into ‘beast mode’ at the drop of a hat, fumo.” 
“Ah, I beg your pardon...” Latifah said apologetically. “What exactly is ‘beast mode’?” 
There was a brief moment of silence. Moffle decided to ignore the question. 
“Well,” he concluded instead, “any Lupin-type that tries to go after Isuzu will get a taste of the magic gun Steinberger, fumo.” 
“Ah, forgive my repeated questions, but... What exactly is a ‘Lupin-type’?” 
Another brief silence. 
“You’ll understand when you grow up, fumo. Er...” Moffle let out a sigh. “Sorry, fumo. I didn’t mean...” There was a tone of deep melancholy in the chief mascot’s voice. The idea that Latifah might ever grow up was a pipe dream. 
“Not at all,” she said optimistically. “It may not be possible this year, but it will happen, some day. I am certain of that. And I have a feeling that Kanie-sama may just make something work out...” 
There’s no way, Moffle thought. 
Not unless a miracle happens. 
And the reason we call them miracles is because they never, ever do. 

[Today’s park attendance: 2,866. (100,121 from goal) / 14 days left]

Suzuran Shopping Street, Amagi Station North Entrance 
Well, talking with Latifah about the fate of the park may be important, but it’s no reason to skip out on a drink after a hard day’s work. Moffle passed through the park’s service gate, caught the last bus of the night, and then walked another ten minutes from his final stop. He was heading for a small yakitori bar near the north entrance of Amagi Station. 
The people he passed on the street paid him little mind. He got about as many glances as a foreigner wandering around in Roppongi. He owed that to the magical item provided to him by AmaBri: the Lalapatch Charm. As long as he wore that charm, any mascot—no matter peculiar-looking—would be treated like any other man on the street. Those charms were what let Moffle and his fellows buy lunches at convenience stores, splurge their earnings at pachinko parlors, and buy figures in Akihabara without arousing suspicion. 
An older lady closing up her cigarette shop for the night called out to Moffle as he passed. “Oh, Moffle-chan. Running a bit behind tonight, aren’t you?” 
“Moffu. I had a few things to see to, fumo.” He waved his plush hand in greeting. 
“By the way, my little brother and his wife sent me some pickled radishes, and I have more than I can eat. Would you mind taking some?” she asked. 
“Thanks, fumo.” 
“Wait right there, Moffle-chan.” She withdrew into the back of the store. Moffle was left waiting for a fair while before the woman came back with a cold pack-readied plastic bag. 
“Make sure that you eat them as soon as you can,” she instructed. 
“I’ll do that.” He gave her a stiff bow, then continued on his way. 
Three storefronts down from the cigarette shop was the yakitori bar, “Savage.” It had been in business for a bit over 20 years. Always that same enticing aroma wafting out from the ventilation fan, he thought nostalgically, and that same glass door, sticky with oil. 
When he entered the bar, he found Takami, the part-time worker, filling a pitcher with beer from the tap right next to the register. 
“Oh, Moffle-san. Come right on in,” Takami said, her tone lacking in affectation when it came to their regulars. “Your friends are already in the back, drinking away. You want your usual Hoppy?” 
“Moffu.” AmaBri’s physician had recently advised him to stay away from purines. Gout was a surprisingly common affliction among mascots in the industry—hence the Hoppy. He was trying to avoid beer as often as possible. 
“While I’m here, Takami-chan, do you want some pickled radishes? They’d make a fine appetizer, fumo.” 
“Oh, I already got a bunch from the lady who runs the cigarette shop...” Takami said, wincing as she saw the plastic bag dangling from Moffle’s hand. 
“Ah, I thought so. No big deal, fumo.” 
He passed by the counter and made his way to the small, cramped tatami room in the back. His comrades from Amagi Brilliant Park—Macaron and Tiramii—were indeed already there, drinking. It seemed it would just be the three of them tonight. 
Macaron’s mug was about half empty of beer, as was Tiramii’s. They were going to town on shichimi spiced heart and chicken-and-scallion skewers. 
“Munch munch... This’s great, ron! This place’s got the best chicken-and-scallion skewers in the business, ron!” Macaron declared. 
Macaron was a woolly white mascot who looked like a three-heads-tall bipedal sheep. He had an adorable little face, which was currently stuffing itself with yakitori and guzzling down beer, to be followed by a deep sigh and a rapturous puff off of a cigarette. His brand, incidentally, was Marlboro—each time the cigarette tax went up, he would go on a tear about the government and Japan Tobacco. 
“Just delicious, mii! That’s the flavor of hard work, mii,” Tiramii added. 
Tiramii was another mascot; he looked like a sweet little Pomeranian in three-heads-tall form. He was covered in pink fur that seemed very soft, and wore both a flower ornament by his ear and a small pouch over his shoulder. All in all, it was impossible to look at him without getting a warm-and-fuzzy feeling inside. 
At the moment, he was gulping down shochu on the rocks and bitching about the day’s guests. “The kid tried to kill me five times in five minutes, mii. When a five-year-old hits you for real... sheesh, you just can’t understand unless you’ve felt it, mii! It freaking hurts! I should have hit him back. No court would convict me!” 
“Yeah, I hear you, ron...” 
“But oh, oh—here’s the part I really want to talk about! The kid’s mom, mii!” 
“Oh-ho?” Macaron chortled. “What was she like?” 
“Hot pants in mid-March. Long legs, porcelain white. Massive rack. Tears in her eyes, falling all over herself with apologies. An exquisitely aged thirty-something, mii.” 
“Sexy, ron?” 
“Hella sexy, mii! She’d get MILF roles in the AV industry in a heartbeat. And she was giving me all kinds of signals.” 
“You’re gonna get shot down again, ron.” 
“But she gave me her email, mii. See? ...I don’t mind older women, as long as they’re hot. And banging a kid’s mom is the best revenge, mii.” 
“You’re a real creep, ron.” 
The two adorable animal mascots—fluffy Pomeranian and the woolly sheep—were spewing vulgarities with beer mugs in hand. It certainly wasn’t anything they’d want a guest to overhear. 
At last, the two realized that Moffle was there. “Hey, it’s Moffle, ron.” 
“Took you long enough, mii!” 
They raised their mugs in greeting. 
“Moffu.” Moffle gave his clipped response, slipped off the fur slippers he wore as outdoor shoes, then stepped onto the tatami and knelt down. Incidentally, even with his shoes off, his feet were covered in the same fur as his shoes. ...The fact of the matter was, he’d had the outdoor shoes designed to look like his real feet. ...But then his feet were also quite large, so the shoes had to be as big as handbags to cover them, and thus, wouldn’t fit inside the usual shoe cabinets. 
“...Listen up, you two. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: Keep your conversations out of the gutter, fumo. The walls have ears and the doors have eyes... What if someone overheard you and started a play-by-play on Twitter, fumo?” 
Yes, a rumor like that—“I’m here in Amagi yakitori bar ‘Savage’ and two AmaBri mascots are howling about trying to score with married women”—would be horrible if it got out. Opinion of AmaBri would plummet on the spot (although some might say it had no lower to go). 
“Aw, this bar’s cool, mii. Besides, we’ve got the Lalapatch Charms,” Tiramii countered. 
“You can’t even get wireless LAN or 3G signal here, ron,” Macaron added, holding up his smartphone. Both bars read “No service.” 
“Be that as it may—” Moffle protested. 
“Besides, our guests don’t even tweet, ron. You know how many followers I have? 128, ron.” 
“......” 
128 followers. Even for a mascot of a highly unpopular amusement park, the number seemed egregiously low. Though, he’d heard it was because Macaron’s account was mainly him tweeting out “pearls of wisdom,” which caused most of his followers to eventually get annoyed and unfollow... 
“What about you, Tiramii?” Moffle asked. 
“I forget, mii. Probably about 200. I get blocked a lot for some reason, mii!” 
In stark contrast with his cute Pomeranian-like appearance, Tiramii loved dirty jokes. And the moment he learned one of his followers was a woman, he’d start hitting on her immediately. As a result, the story went, he too had been largely abandoned by his followers. 
“What about you, Moffle?” Macaron asked. 
“I don’t do Twitter anymore, fumo.” 
He’d made an account on the others’ recommendations, but he’d barely touched it. He’d tried following friends and others he knew too, but even that he quit after less than a month. He’d quickly grown sick of watching Macaron’s lectures and Tiramii’s ill-advised come-ons, and the others’ accounts weren’t much better. 
Furthermore, reading things on Twitter was a depressing experience for him. It was just a bunch of individuals rattling off the trivial events of their lives, yet seeing all those happy tweets day in and day out made him feel like... how to put it? Like “My life is so boring compared to theirs.” 
The sense of inferiority made him feel limp and deflated, like on hot, humid nights when his fur retained moisture. 
An objective appraisal would prove that each person was really only going to two or three fun events per month. Sadly, that wasn’t how it looked to him. After the hundredth “Heading out!” tweet, he couldn’t help feeling like everyone else was going out on the town and having fun all the time. It created the illusion of a world filled with light, in which he alone suffered in grim, dull darkness day after day. 
The most pathetic part of all was the way it tempted him to compete, to post bragging “I’m living a meaningful life!” tweets. Look at this wonderful guest we had today! Look at this wonderful experience I had! I may be facing setbacks, but I’m still giving it my all! —Of course, none of that was true. 
My life is awful. Monday mornings are the worst. Someone kill me. I wished this packed train car would explode and a meteor would hit my workplace. I hope you all die. 
But could he tweet those things? Of course he couldn’t. 
Thus, as Moffle was not a mascot who tolerated deception, he had no choice but to remain silent. 
It was around that time that part-time worker Takami brought him a bottle and a mug. “Here you are, Moffle-san. Your Black Hoppy!” 
“...Moffu.” 
“Can I get you something to eat?” Takami asked. 
“Chilled tomatoes and cold tofu,” he told her. “Some yakitori, too. Your choice.” 
“Got it!” 
As Takami left the tatami room, Tiramii gazed after her. His sweet smile, his button eyes... A small sigh escaped his mouth. 
“Takami-chan... I love that junk in her trunk, mii.” 
“Don’t you dare, you stupid mutt!” Moffle and Macaron both groaned simultaneously. 
“You always, always go there, fumo!” 
“Hitting on the part-timer got us banned from the last place, ron!” 
“I-I just like to say it, mii... Don’t glare at me like that, mii...”