Amagi Brilliant Park - Volume 1 - Chapter 3

3: There’s a Facility That’s Gone Unused For Decades 
As the cast arrived for work the next morning—a Tuesday—they found a large announcement posted just inside the employee gate. 
The announcement stated three things:

1. The park will be closed for the day. 
2. Every cast member must spend the day cleaning and repairing their station. 
3. Any station that doesn’t show improvement by the end of the day will be closed indefinitely.

This was followed by a bit of supplementary information, which was then followed by the signatures of “Acting Manager” Kanie Seiya and Latifah Fleuranza, who had approved the notice. 
It was addressed to “All Cast,” which meant it didn’t just apply to the performers, but to everyone who worked at the park, including the people who ran the attractions, guides, shopkeepers, food vendors, security, and ticket sellers. It applied not only to those from the magical realms like Maple Land, but also to the mortal employees. 
“What... What the fumo is this?!” Moffle, arriving for his shift as usual that morning, shouted as he saw the announcement. He marched back the way he came and stuck his head into the security station nearby. 
“Okuro-san! Okuro-san! How could you let someone put up that prank sign?! You need to keep a better eye on things, fumo!” Moffle chastised Okuro, the morning shift security guard. He then noticed that Okuro was in the middle of tidying up his office with a broom. 
“Oh, Moffle-san,” Okuro greeted him. “That’s no prank sign. It was put up by the acting manager and Isuzu-san this morning.” 
“Acting manager? That child, fumo?” 
“Yep. Told me to clean up the security station, too... Well, I doubt he’d close down security either way, but I figured I’d do my job right, even so. It’s not as though I have anything better to do at the moment.” 
“Where is he now, fumo?” 
“He said he’d be touring the on-stage area. Just a minute, hmm... ah, there he is,” Okuro said, using his security terminal to check where Seiya had been using his ID card. “He entered your House of Sweets three minutes ago.” 
“Moffu...!” Moffle ran off, not even pausing to greet the familiar co-workers he passed on his way. 
He leaped into his electric cart and took off down the underground passageway. It was extremely slow—so slow that speed-walking would be faster. He promptly jumped out and squeak-squeak-squeaked his way down the corridor. Once he reached the Sorcerer’s Hill area, he came back above ground, then entered Moffle’s House of Sweets, his usual station. 
Kanie Seiya was standing in the entrance hall, running a finger along a wall garnished with trim that resembled fresh cream. Isuzu wasn’t with him; he was all by himself. 
“What the fumo are you doing?!” 
Hearing Moffle’s howl, Seiya turned around. He didn’t look at all surprised to see him. “Well, at least you weren’t late.” 
“Boy, this is my workplace, fumo. I don’t appreciate an amateur putting his hands all over it.” 
“...I didn’t notice it when I came on Sunday, but the ornamentation here is excellent,” Seiya commented. “It feels like the work of a real artisan... I thought it was urethane foam, but it’s not. I don’t know what this material is... It can’t really be hand-carved, can it?” 
“You get away from there, fumo.” Before Moffle could charge in and grab him, Seiya stepped leisurely away from the wall. Then, with silent footsteps, he began walking a circuit around the entrance hall. 
“I officially accepted the position of acting manager from Latifah yesterday,” he mused. “I’d say I can go anywhere in the park that I want, wouldn’t you?” 
“So you came to pester me, is that it, fumo?” 
“You really think I have time for that? I’m busy preparing a miracle.” 
“Still flogging that line, I see, fumo.” Moffle fixed the young man with a glare, but Seiya just shrugged with a perfunctory smile. “But that’s not what I’m here for... it’s that announcement, fumo! You can’t just close the park without warning! In all of this park’s 29 years, we’ve never once done anything like that, fumo!” 
“Oh, is that what this is about?” Seiya turneWhat’lld his face upward, squinting against the light streaming in through the skylight. “Our first priority is improving the park’s appearance. There’s litter everywhere, dust on everything... it looks awful. It’s an important job that’s going to take a whole day to do.” 
“That’s all well and good,” Moffle argued, “but we can’t just close the park without warning, fumo! you say to the guests who came a long way to be here, assuming we’d be open?” 
Seiya scowled. “Today’s Tuesday. We’re not going to get many people, anyway.” 
“But we’ll still get some!” Moffle wailed. “Even if it’s just one family, leaving the gate open and welcoming the guests in is basic courtesy for any park!” 
It was a given that any facility in the entertainment business must operate year-round outside of its pre-established closing days. This park had kept that promise for 29 years; to break it now would be to shatter all the trust that they had built up in that time. 
The boy just didn’t know anything. There were quite a few businesses that only closed on Tuesday; beauticians, for instance, and a selection of bars. For children with parents in those professions, Tuesday was the only day they had for family fun. 
“When your amusement park is this lousy,” Seiya commented, “I’m not sure that ‘basic courtesy’ applies...” 
“How dare you!” Moffle snarled. 
“But... I do see what you’re saying. I’ve been looking around this attraction of yours, and—” Seiya stopped walking abruptly. “It doesn’t appear to need any cleaning. It’s as if some strange, obsessive person has been cleaning it every day.” 
“...?” 
“In other words, rat... after the morning meeting, you’ll have a lot of free time. I’ll open the front plaza, and you can entertain our unlucky guests there.” 
“What the... fumo?” 
“Do some juggling, some dancing—whatever you like. Show the guests a good time, and send them home happy,” Seiya told him helpfully. “Then, we’ll at least be able to say that we opened for business. That’ll be your job for today.” 
It was incomprehensible, Moffle thought. In that empty plaza just inside the gate, what was he supposed to do for the dozens of people—no doubt unhappy people—that they could expect for the day? 
“You can do it, can’t you?” Seiya goaded him. “You’re a veteran, aren’t you?” 
“Moffu. Well...” 
“You can’t, then?” 
“I... I can, fumo!” Moffle managed to blurt out at last. 
“Good. I’ll send other cast members to help you as they finish their own cleaning. Anyway, I’ll leave you to that.”

Seiya walked away from Moffle’s Sweets House and the deflated, dumbfounded Moffle he’d left there. He really is keeping it up well, though... he thought. He hadn’t been lying when he said the house didn’t need cleaning. 
It was a rather large attraction, yet it seemed like it was going through daily cleanings, with all the mechanical parts kept in good repair. Since the park had only the bare minimum of funds dedicated to maintenance, Moffle must have been keeping it up personally. According to the time card records, Moffle was logging overtime past midnight several times a week. He was probably staying after closing to do the cleaning and repair work. 
Given his behavior when they’d first met, Seiya had assumed Moffle was a slacker type, but it appeared he actually took his job quite seriously. 
The trouble is his stubbornness, and his complete inability to just trust me... Well, I can’t blame him. I don’t trust that rat yet, either... If parks could trade cast the way baseball traded players, Moffle would be my first choice for the chopping block. Anyway, what will Moffle do with the order I gave him? Time to see what he’s got... 
(Now, the next item on the agenda...) Seiya stifled a yawn, and got on one of the park-use bikes he had stored backstage. He had scheduled a meeting with the department heads for 9:00 am, but there was a facility he wanted to check out in person first. 
He had ridden to the east side of the backstage area and was looking over the employee guide map when he found himself addressed by an employee on her way to work. 
“Ah... Kanie-san! Good morning!” 
She hadn’t checked in yet, so she was still wearing her street clothes: a down jacket and denim pants, with a fur hat pulled over her silver hair. She was a beautiful girl, and appeared to be a foreigner at a glance, but there was something indescribably Japanese about the way she bowed to him and smiled. 
Who is she again? Seiya wondered. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t place the face. 
“Ah... excuse me! My name is Muse,” she introduced herself. “I’m in the cast of ‘Aquario’...” 
“Ah.” He remembered now. She was the ‘fairy’ who had asked him the question he needed during his grandstanding at the meeting last night. She had been wearing a revealing dress with large wings at the time, so he hadn’t made the connection to her more mundane appearance until just now. 
This Muse girl must be a resident of a magical realm, too— Seiya realized, even if, at the moment, she looked like a prep school student on her way to a mock exam. 
“Just the person I wanted to see, then,” he said. “How do I get to this southern area?” He pointed to the location in question—a large space on the guide map that seemed nearly empty. 
“Oh. The southern area is across the highway,” she told him after looking at the map. “You’d have to use the pedestrian bridge or the underground walkway... though we’re using the underground walkway for storage right now, so it might be hard to get through with a bike...” 
“The pedestrian bridge, then? All right.” Seiya was about to ride off on his bike when Muse stopped him. 
“Wait, I’ll show you the way!” she exclaimed. “It’s easy to get lost.” 
“I’d appreciate that,” he told her, “but... weren’t you on your way to work?” 
“Oh, I still have time. This way!” 
He ended up letting Muse serve as his guide. Despite her mundane appearance, she seemed exceptionally articulate. “Aquario” was a musical, so perhaps it came naturally to her as a stage performer? 
On the way there, he asked a question. “Been here long?” 
“What?” she asked, not understanding his question. 
“I mean, working here,” Seiya clarified. 
“Oh... well, only about a year! Before that, I was a background dancer at Highlander Fujimi!” 
Highlander Fujimi was an amusement park on the edge of Kanagawa. He’d heard it was more about over-the-top thrill rides than song and dance routines. 
You know... he thought. For all this talk of magical lands, they still have workplace transfers and cast hierarchies. Not much of a fantasy, when you get right down to it. 
“Um, Kanie-san. Could I ask you a question?” Muse asked. 
“What is it?” 
“Um... can you really bring in all those guests?” she asked doubtfully. “A hundred thousand... in just two weeks?” 
“Of course I can,” Seiya replied immediately. It was a lie, of course, but he couldn’t let any doubt exist in her mind. “This is part of the groundwork I’m laying for it. It will take a lot of preparation, after all.” 
“R-Really!” Muse’s tone was that of a person unable to fully believe, yet still happy to cling to invisible hope. 
“So, what happened last night?” Seiya asked, redirecting their conversation to a safer subject. “Did you all get together to badmouth me afterwards?” 
“Oh, of course not...” she replied immediately. “Well, it’s true that a lot of them aren’t happy with you, but we all know that we’re up against a wall. And a lot of them say they’re willing to give you a chance...” 
“I see.” 
This Muse girl seemed incapable of strategic omission, or really, of doing anything other than speaking her mind. He’d never need to use his magic to tell what she was thinking. 
...As a matter of fact, Seiya hadn’t used his magic much at all since yesterday. He’d even deferred using it with Kurisu Takaya from Amagi Development; knowing he could only use it once per person meant he had to choose his timing carefully. 
Ah, but even then— 
Call it a part of his nature, or just his personal style... but it was a problem he had. Seiya was the type of person who, when playing an FPS, never used the most powerful weapons at his disposal. He held tight to his grenades and his rockets, and even with normal ammo, he tried to conserve as much as possible by sticking to careful shots to vital points. Automatic weapons were right out. As a result, he always beat the final boss with huge stockpiles of ammo left over and a vague feeling like he’d missed out, somehow. 
—the way I use my magic feels a lot like that. 
“This way.” Muse had been right about the pedestrian bridge being difficult to locate. He walked his bike up the wheelchair ramp, then crossed the highway, heading for the southern area. 
Even with the vantage point of the pedestrian bridge, he still couldn’t get a good grasp of what the southern area contained, thanks to the rampant, towering pine growth that covered the land like a shroud. Beyond the pines, he could just make out some kind of large, squat structure—a massive silhouette that seemed out of place with the untouched greenery of the surrounding hills. 
“This southern area... it’s barely used, I understand?” 
“Yes, that’s what I’ve heard,” Muse agreed. “They say it had a campground and an adventure play area, but they’re closed now... so hardly anyone ever goes there.” 
There was a paved path, but it had been left to the elements, with limp grass growing through the cracks here and there. Declarations of “This way to Excitement Campground!” and “Join us at Mischief Plaza!” remained barely readable on the rotting signs, which were covered in ivy. There was something profoundly lonely about seeing phrases like those in such a desolate place. 
“I don’t really know why it’s been abandoned for so long, but...” 
“Apparently they were going to use the land for an expansion,” Seiya said, remembering one of the documents Isuzu had handed him last night. 
“Expansion?” Muse questioned. 
“Once upon a time, this park did great business,” Seiya explained. “This was during the bubble economy in the 80s and early 90s, when they were swimming in money. Before the bubble popped and finances became strained, they had plans to build a second park in this southern area.” 
“Oh? —Wait, do you mean, um...” 
“......?” Seiya waited for her to finish the question. 
“Are you planning to build that second park now?!” 
“Huh? In just two weeks?” Seiya stared at her, bewildered. Muse waved her hands hastily. 
“S-Sorry. You said you were going to make a miracle happen, so I guess I thought it could be something that huge...” 
“I don’t know about you people, but I, for one, am not magic,” Seiya told her dryly. “Don’t get the wrong idea.” 
Muse hung her head. “You’re right... You’re a mortal, after all, Kanie-san. I’m very sorry.” 
“......? Anyway, the plans for a second park seem to have gone up in smoke after the bubble burst. They used what money they had left to create a rather pathetic little campground, and when that failed to catch on, they closed it. The southern area has been abandoned ever since.” 
That was the extent of what Seiya knew. The documents he’d read last night had been rather limited in their information, which was why he had come here in person; to find out more about the southern area. 
At the moment, he wasn’t seeing anything that might help him accomplish what he needed to. But—as they came to a clearing in the trees, they found themselves standing in front of an enormous structure. 
At first, he thought it was a shipwrecked oil tanker that someone had left here for some reason. It had a towering, gently curved outer wall that extended far into the distance, and an intricate steel framework that was covered in ivy. 
“What is...” Muse whispered. 
“I think it’s a stadium,” Seiya responded, looking up at the large building. “That’s the one facility they completed in the lead-up to the second park project.” 
“I’d always seen it from far away,” Muse commented. “I didn’t know it was a stadium. I didn’t even realize it was part of our park...” 
“Apparently it barely saw any use, but it is complete. What I couldn’t figure out, from what I read, was why my predecessor would have built a stadium like this.” 
“The theme of the second park was going to be sports,” said a new voice from behind him. It was Sento Isuzu, walking towards them, dressed in a bright red uniform. 
After putting up the notice at the employee gate, she had said “I’m going to take a shower,” and wandered off. She must have just finished; her skin was oddly lustrous. 
“What, did you follow me here?” 
“You may not know this, but...” Isuzu said as she passed them by, “...Muse is a very popular member of our cast. When a young man, fresh off receiving his new authority, leads her into a deserted region of the park... As the acting manager’s assistant, it is my duty to protect her from the threat of sexual harassment.” 
“Stop making it sound so sleazy,” Seiya scoffed. “...And put that gun away! Stop trying to hurt me!” 
Isuzu was pointing her usual musket at him. While Seiya shouted at her, Muse turned bright red, and began swinging her arms, floundering. 
“Um, um, Isuzu-san! I-It’s not like that... I was just trying to be nice... I mean, I do think Kanie-san is handsome, I guess... but I was just showing him the way, um, and I was curious...” 
“I appreciate you trying to cover for me, but you don’t need to say I’m handsome; everybody knows it.” 
“Ahh?” 
Seiya watched with a sidelong glance, and folded his arms as Muse deflated. “...Anyway, Isuzu, she’s just showing me around. Put that bizarre gun of yours away already.” 
Isuzu obediently stored her musket. “It’s a shame... It would have been a good chance to try out ‘Paradise Lost.’” 
“What is that?” he asked. 
“It’s a bullet that makes you lose your reproductive functions forever,” she answered him. 
“Don’t try that out on me!” 
“Um... back to the subject...” Muse interrupted, timidly. “I believe you were telling us the concept for a second park...?” 
That’s right; they were talking about how the stadium had come to be here. 
“Yes, that’s right,” Seiya acknowledged. “You said it was going to have a ‘sports theme.’ What does that actually mean?” 
“I don’t know any more than that,” Isuzu admitted. “All I know is that they were planning to go in a very different direction than the current park, and the stadium was built to be a sign of that.” 
“Hmm...” Seiya looked up at the stadium again. It didn’t have an all-weather roof, but it was quite large—possibly one of the biggest in the Kanto region. Even as a remnant of the bubble economy, the extravagance of it all was enough to give him a headache. 
“Why hasn’t it been used in over twenty years?” 
“Apparently, Amagi City and Amagi Development wouldn’t give permission. They cited a variety of reasons... notices from the fire department, issues with the health services... It’s just like with the bus stop.” 
“Ah.” He remembered his own confusion about the names of the stops when he’d taken the bus here with Isuzu on Sunday. The stop by the old entrance remained “Amagi Brilliant Park,” which made it easy to confuse a local love hotel for the park itself. At the time, Isuzu had told him that they had petitioned Amagi City to change it, but that they wouldn’t give permission. 
It was probably this same roundabout resistance from the local government and stockholders that was keeping the stadium’s full potential from being realized. 
“I will grant that the location is inconvenient,” Isuzu conceded. “The closest station is Amagi Station, and that’s ten minutes by bus... It would be difficult to carry in enough people to fill it.” 
“...True,” Seiya agreed. “If I’d been in charge here at the time, I would have scrapped the stadium idea in the planning stage.” 
“I heard that Amagi Development wanted to turn the southern area into a golf course or a residential complex,” said Isuzu. “So the building of a stadium was like an act of resistance against that.” 
Seiya had acquired a more-or-less firm grasp on the intentions that various companies and the local government had for this park. It was a troublesome situation. 
Amagi Brilliant Park operated with funding from a number of entities. Latifah’s allies consisted of a company called Maple Real Estate and a few other sponsors. The “enemy” that Isuzu had referred to was Amagi Development, which was in turn funded by Amagi City and Toto Railways. 
Maple Real Estate itself was funded by the magical realm Maple Land. Getting your funding from a fantasy land seemed like a fairly dubious prospect, but the money from it was thoroughly laundered through foreign banks and companies, and by the time it reached Maple Real Estate, it was clean. At any rate, Maple Real Estate was a proxy for Maple Land, which meant it had an interest in keeping the park going. 
Their enemy, Amagi Development, was a third sector organization run by humans from the mortal realm. It was a pragmatic management company, funded by investments from Toto Railways (a company with great power in western Tokyo) and other corporations, as well as the Amagi City government. 
In a way, the history of Amagi Brilliant Park was a history of the rivalry between Maple Real Estate and Amagi Development. In the twenty years since the bubble burst and funding had become more scarce, the partisanship on both sides had only deepened. 
Maple Real Estate, working hard to keep the park alive—Amagi Development, trying to kill it. 
The situation they had found themselves in now felt like an extension of that, with Amagi Development exploiting that contract stipulation to try to deal the finishing blow. 
“Was there something you wanted to do here?” Isuzu asked. 
“No... I just wanted to see it, for reference.” 
“I see. It’s almost time for the meeting. We should head back.”

The meeting began at 9:00 sharp. It was attended by the heads of various departments, including: general affairs, accounting, maintenance, HR, food services, security, planning, and marketing, as well as the head of each park area. There were about 25 members present in all, and they ran the gamut in terms of age. 
Most of them were what Isuzu and Latifah referred to as “real cast”—people from the magical realms—a fact which held true even among behind-the-scenes staff who rarely interacted with the guests. Some looked like cute anthro animals, others like fairy tale creatures; some looked like they could have walked right out of an anime. 
It seemed there were ordinary humans in some of the departments too, but it was a bizarre sight nonetheless. 
Moffle was there, as well. He bore the title of “cast leader” for the Sorcerer’s Hill cast, which meant he was the coordinator for the cast that interacted with visitors in that area. 
The department heads must have all heard the rumors about Seiya already. Although they regarded him with deep skepticism, they still listened quietly to what he had to say—until he declared that “starting tomorrow, everything will be completely free.” This was met with a burst of objections and outrage. 
Making things completely free was the best way for them to increase their attendance. No cost for anything. Admission, attractions, food and drinks—all free. 
“I’m against it, fumo.” Moffle declared. 
“...And why is that?” Seiya inquired. 
“We’re professionals, fumo. Under no circumstances can we entertain guests for free. It would bring the whole entertainment-for-compensation system crashing down, fumo.” 
“Given the standard of entertainment you provide, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Seiya shot back sarcastically, referring to their interaction on Sunday. 
Moffle let out a choking sound, but glared at Seiya anew. “...I was wrong to act that way and I apologize, fumo. But the quality of the entertainment doesn’t matter. Once you make it ‘free,’ customers will never accept ‘not free’ ever again, fumo.” 
“Hmm, I see.” Seiya could grasp what Moffle was getting at. 
“On top of that, what about our working capital, fumo? Even at this time of year, it costs about 3 million yen a day to keep the park running. Over the course of two weeks, that adds up to 42 million. Who’s going to pay for all of it, fumo?” 
“We’re in the red as it is,” Seiya told him. “We can think about that later.” 
Moffle was gobsmacked by his careless dismissal. “Think about 42 million—” 
“You’re already 400 million in debt if you shut down now,” Seiya scoffed. “What’s a few more millions on top of that? Don’t worry about it.” 
“But—” 
“If your ship goes down in a storm and you’re drowning, are you going to get picky about the plank keeping you afloat? Are you going to worry about who owns the plank?” 
“Mgh...” 
“This park is drowning,” Seiya announced flatly. “Our first priority is getting out of the water. We can worry about what shore we’ve washed up on later. Still...” 
He could understand what Moffle was saying—that as a professional, he couldn’t tolerate the idea of working completely for free. 
“But... yes, I see. If we can’t make it free, we’ll make it close to free; 30 yen for entry.” 
A commotion ran through the group. 
“...Why 30 yen, fumo?” 
“Because next year will be the park’s 30th anniversary. It’s as good a reason as any, and it will get people talking.” 
Another commotion ran through the group, marked by varieties of acceptance and skepticism. 
“We need to get moving on advertising right away,” Seiya decided. “Whoever’s in charge of that, stay here; everyone else can go back to their posts. We’re done here. Dismissed.”

“I just can’t stand that boy, fumo!” Moffle was in the underground passage backstage, huffing his indignation as he headed towards the plaza just inside the park’s front gate. “30 yen! He’s saying our art is only worth 30 yen, fumo! It’s an insult! I won’t stand for it, fumo!” 
“Getting mad about it won’t solve anything, mii.” Tiramii responded. He was also heading to the front plaza, having met up with Moffle on the way. 
Tiramii’s attraction, Tiramii’s Music Theater, was a theater set, which made it comparatively easy to clean. As a result, he’d also been ordered to entertain the guests denied entry to the park. 
“Let’s just make the most of it, mii. It’ll be great for flirting with our fine lady guests. ‘I’ll make it cheap for you, baby. Thirty yen for life if you give me your email address.’” 
“If you think any woman would fall for that, you’re a greater fool than I thought, fumo.” 
“Huh? You can get some good puffs that way, you know? It’s all about opportunity and persistence, mii. You try a line on ten women; one gives you her email address. You get ten email addresses; one agrees to meet you later. And since I’m so cute, my hit rate is even higher, mii!” 
“I don’t want to hear about your pick-up strategies, fumo. ...By the way, do you ever think about anything but puffing?” 
Tiramii slicked back his fluffy head-fur and let out a long sigh. “That’s the trouble, mii. I just can’t imagine life without puffing, mii.” 
“...Enough. Anyway, back to my dislike of that child, fumo.” 
To charge 30 yen for park entry! Moffle wasn’t insisting on entrance fees because he really wanted the money; he just didn’t like having that price being put on his work. Ah, but then again, the first time he’d met Kanie Seiya, he had done the kind of work that no one would pay for... But that was because Sento Isuzu had contacted him in advance, and he’d wanted to test the boy’s reactions. He wouldn’t normally treat a customer like that. 
Well, the boy did seem like a bright person, so he probably had some idea of what he’d been going for. 
Even so, this treatment... It felt like pure revenge. 
Even knowing that he was partly in the wrong, Moffle couldn’t restrain his anger and annoyance. 
“Moffle. That guy... ah, what was his name, mii?” 
“Kanie Seiya, fumo.” 
“Yeah, Kanie-kun. I think he’s got some pretty good ideas, myself. We’re gonna get closed at this rate, mii, so we don’t have the luxury of our pride. We’re basically on our hands and knees, begging a woman for a pity-puff.” 
“Stop bringing everything back down to the gutter, fumo.” 
“But it’s worked before, mii.” 
“You’re kidding,” Moffle scoffed. 
“I’m not! Works for me, works for you. Puffin’ good in the neighborhood. There’s more to the world than you’d ever think, mii.” 
“Hmm... Did you just say ‘world’ in italics, fumo?” 
“Sure did. I was going for suggestive, mii.” 
By now, they’d reached the receiving room that lay just under the front plaza. The number of the receiving room, EX-10, was written on the gray wall nearby. 
“...Speaking of which, where’s Macaron, mii?” 
“I don’t think he’ll come today, fumo. His ‘Flower Adventure’ needs a lot of maintenance, and I think he’s got a meeting with his lawyer in the evening, fumo.” 
“Ahh... Still fighting over child support?” 
“He’s failed to pay a few times since last year, fumo. Now his ex is suing him, I hear.” 
“Tough times for Macaron, mii.” 
Macaron was once-divorced, with a daughter. The daughter lived with his ex-wife in Maple Land, and he hated the fact that he hardly ever saw her. 
“Macaron’s always looking at pictures of his kid and going, ‘Next time I have time off, I’m going to see her,’ in this way serious voice, mii. It’s what we call a death flag, mii.” 
“He’ll be fine, fumo.” 
“How do you know, mii?” 
“He calls her his kid, but she’s not a small child, fumo. Even if he meets her, it’ll just be a sad experience, with her saying ‘Dad, you’re way gross’ and keeping him at arm’s length. Which means it’s not a death flag, fumo.” 
“So tragic, mii.” 
They passed through the receiving area and came above ground backstage. They were now at the employee door that led to the front plaza, Entrance Square. 
“We’re about to go onstage, fumo. Drop the mortal talk.” 
“Roger that.” 
They paused for a moment and got into character. 
“Moffu.” 
“Mii.” 
Each whispered his own standard line, then they walked “onstage”—in other words, into the area where the guests would be. Small talk was forbidden from here on out. 
It was ten minutes to opening time, but there were already a small handful of guests hanging around in Entrance Square. There were three or four sets of families and couples. They all looked confused and angry in light of the “Closed Today” sign on the gate. 
“Moffu...” 
Customers, I am terribly sorry. 
You have been put in an unenviable position as the result of one young man’s arbitrary decision. As a small token of our apology, in lieu of our various attractions, we hope you will enjoy a personal audience with us, the park’s star cast. 
Shall we begin with a bit of simple juggling, perhaps? Watch as one ball becomes two, then two become four, and they all dance together in the air. 
Now, let’s— 
“Shaddap!” 
“Moffu!” 
A young child slammed him in the side with a flying kick. Moffle felt a sharp pain in his hip, then fell over, spilling his juggling balls across the flagstones. 
“M-Moffu...” 
Few people knew how much a serious blow from a young child could hurt. It was an experience limited mainly to parents, people with much younger siblings and relatives, and nursery school workers. 
“I wanted to go to Digimaland! But I was good! I said okay to AmaBri! Now it’s closed! This sucks! You’re a stupid rat! I want Mackey!” 
“Guh...” The child continued to pepper Moffle with kicks as he let loose his string of verbal abuse. 
This hurts. This really hurts. This truly hurts. Enough, brat. Mackey, you say? I could kill you for that. He’s not even that great a mascot. He’s just money-hungry. Where the hell are your parents, anyway? Why won’t they stop this? 
“Banja-kun! Banja-kun! Stop it! Stop it right now!” A woman in her mid-twenties, hair lightened with bleach, ran up to them. She was probably the child’s mother. 
“M-Moffu...” 
“But Mama...” the child protested. 
“You don’t know where that costume has been!” the woman scolded. “It must be covered in germs! Don’t touch it, you hear me?” 
“Fine...I won’t.” 
The mother dragged her child off of Moffle, then turned to address him where he was laid out on the ground. “My Banja-kun better not catch anything from you, you hear? I’ll drop a lawsuit so fast it’ll make your head spin. You’d better get your legal team ready!” 
“Moffu...” 
Yes, dear customer. I’m so sorry for the distress I’ve caused you. We’ve been inconsiderate. Your child’s anger is well-deserved. I feel my own incompetence very keenly, and I will take this as a lesson to improve in the future. 
...Ah, and his name is Banja-sama, is it? What a very original, very fine name! Any difficulties it brings your child in life will but help to shape him into a man. I, the humble Moffle, stand before you in awe. 
Your concern that the precious child might catch terrible germs from my unworthy self is most appropriate. Yes, your anger is nothing if not justified. I beg your deepest pardon. 
Kick me as you like. Abuse me as you like. 
By all means, strike me to your heart’s content. 
“...Is that what you thought I’d say, fumo?! You stupid bitch?!” As the woman got up in his face, he gave her a hard shove. 
“Ouch! ...Hey, what’s wrong with this thing?” the woman wailed. “It’s acting crazy! And it’s talking now, too!” 
“Moffu...” 
Things immediately spun out of control. Within five seconds of hearing his wife’s shouting, the husband came running up. He was young too, with tightly curled hair. He was wearing a gold necklace and smoked sunglasses, with a selection of rings that clinked on his fingers. Basically, he was a quintessential delinquent. 
“Hey, what’s goin’ on here?” he demanded. 
“Did you see that, Tak-kun? He shoved me!” The woman’s victimized tone only annoyed Moffle more. “He upset Banja-kun, and when I tried to complain, he just shoved me! Isn’t it awful? Can you even stand it?!” 
Seeming to accept the woman’s side without question, the man—‘Tak-kun,’ apparently—glared hard at Moffle. “Oh, yeah? You got some nerve, you little rat!” 
“That’s right!” she sniffled. “They can’t just shove customers, right?” 
“You bet they can’t. Ain’t that right?!” The husband had gone right into beatdown mode, cracking each of his knuckles in turn before beckoning with his fingertips. “Hey, rat! Get your ass over here! First, I want that costume off! You wanna respect the customers, you better look ’em in the eye! Yeah?!” 
Moffle closed his eyes, fists trembling. “Customer. Yes, you are my customer. And as the saying goes, ‘the customer is God,’ fumo...” 
“Yeah, so?” the husband snarled, “I told you to get your ass over here!” 
“Yes, the customer is God, fumo. But... is it not man’s nature to fight back against tyrannical gods? Like Captain Kratos of Sparta, in the days of the ancient Greeks—though mortal, he took up divine arms and destroyed the God of War, Ares...” 
“What the hell are you talking about?!” 
“I’m saying that there are some things that cannot be tolerated, even if the customer is God. I’m rebelling against the gods, fumo. Strike me down with lightning if you wish.” 
“Oh, yeah? You need me to beat the point into you, ’zat it? Fine, just stay where you are! One move and you’re dead!” “Tak-kun” pulled back his fist and charged straight at Moffle. 
“Moffle! Don’t do it, mii!” Tiramii ran up, but was unable to stop him in time—Moffle’s right hook cracked the gentleman in the jaw. 
Actually, “cracked” wouldn’t be quite accurate. It was a meticulous strike designed to graze just the tip of the man’s jaw. It applied short, sharp torque to his skull, which rattled his brain inside his cranium. 
Tak-kun collapsed like a puppet with strings cut. “Uhhh...” he groaned. 
“I would never fall to scum like you, fumo,” Moffle sneered at his opponent, who was now immobilized and barely conscious. “Now, you lie there and watch, helpless, as I exact a gruesome penance from your wife and child, fumo.” 
The mother, who had fallen on her backside in terror, watched as he picked up one of the rubber balls on the ground. Regardless of what he could actually do with the ball, he still looked like an interrogator picking up an implement of torture. 
“Ah... ahh...” the man moaned helplessly. 
“Your cries won’t save you, fumo. You’re about to see what happens when you make an enemy of Amagi Brilliant Park.” 
The man shrieked. 
“Now... get ready, fumo. ‘Customer!’” Moffle held the rubber ball high over his head. 
“Give it a rest, rat.” Kanie Seiya appeared out of nowhere, and sent Moffle flying with a kick.

He didn’t think the mascot was this stupid, but apparently he was the type to fly off the handle when he was angry. Honestly, it’s a good thing I came to watch just in case... 
Seiya extended a courteous apology to the outraged family. Naturally, they refused it, and started shouting about suing them and shaming them on social media. 
He had no recourse but to have Isuzu use her magical gun—that “Forgotten Realm” bullet she’d mentioned before. The family immediately forgot the argument and walked away from the park. They were still grumbling, but showed no sign of remembering exactly what had happened to them. 
It seemed a few other guests had witnessed the incident, but they’d all disappeared during the commotion. All Seiya could do was pray that the rumors didn’t spread far. 
“So you treat your ordinary guests this way too?!” After everything was settled, they withdrew backstage, where Seiya gave Moffle a dressing down. 
“......... That was an exceptionally rare case, fumo.” 
“‘Exceptionally rare?’ Does that mean it’s happened before?” 
“It has,” Isuzu responded bluntly. 
Tiramii, who had come backstage with them, chimed in: “Only once a year, if that. He tolerates the vast majority of the guests’ outrage, so please forgive him, mii.” 
“For heaven’s sake...” Seiya’s head hurt. 
An amusement park where the mascots sometimes hit customers? How on earth had they stayed in business this long? Why hadn’t the police gotten involved? 
“The only reason this isn’t a catastrophe is because of Sento’s magical gun. Forget about picking up attendance; we’d have been dead on the spot!” 
“Was I just supposed to let him hit me, then? Even mascots have their pride, fumo!” 
“You can take that pride and shove it! Especially if you call yourself a professional!” 
Surprisingly, Moffle didn’t get any angrier. Instead, his expression was a mix of emotions. It seemed pitying, sad... and also disgusted. It was impressive that he could convey all that with just the button eyes and moffley mouth on that plushy face of his. 
“What?” Seiya demanded. “Am I wrong in any way?” 
“No, you’re not wrong, fumo,” Moffle said, then sighed. “If I’m going to call myself a pro, I have to be professional with the customers, no matter what they say to me. That’s fundamental, fumo. It’s the iron law of customer service. ...Now of course, you’re not wrong. But...” 
“?” 
“The one saying those things should be more... ah, no, never mind, fumo.” Moffle fell silent, as if stifling himself. 
Seiya felt an urge to use his magic—the power to peer into a person’s mind, but only once. But it would be a waste to use that one-time-only chance on something like this. He should save it for a more critical situation; something that would give him real blackmail material on this rat, to really make use of him... 
“...Well, anyway. I acted badly, fumo. You can fire me now, if you’d like.” Moffle said, seeming to regain a bit of his fire. 
That bastard. He was well aware of the position he was in—as the park’s headliner and a cast coordinator, he knew that if Seiya fired him now, it would just make the park harder to manage. This mascot was one hell of a tough customer. 
Isuzu and Tiramii were both watching. Well, then. How to respond? 
Seiya ran a few calculations in his mind: the mission he’d accepted; his priorities in accomplishing it; what he’d need to execute his plans; the risk-cost assessment of winning over this stupid rat. 
Calculation complete. 
“I’ll let it go once,” he said in a hushed voice. “The next time you make trouble, you’re out. Watch yourself.”

Moffle and Tiramii went back onstage and resumed entertainment of their sporadic visitors; they juggled, and they danced. In a total reversal from his earlier belligerence, Moffle was quite conscientious with the guests. Some of the children even left quite happy. 
Seiya watched them from afar for a while. Then, Isuzu addressed him. “I thought you were going to fire him.” 
“Why?” 
“It’s your first day here,” she observed. “You won’t be setting much of an example if you allow behavior like that.” 
“The guy’s our cleanup hitter,” he admitted. “There are some things I need him to do before I fire him. Besides, thanks to you, he hasn’t done any concrete harm.” 
Isuzu just let out a sigh. “Those ‘Forgotten Realm’ bullets are extremely precious. Each one takes a year to make, and I only have one left.” 
“...Really.” 
“You should treat the use of my magic bullets with the gravity of selling off family heirlooms.” 
“Guh...” He couldn’t believe she had used something so valuable so willingly for him. 
But wait. “Incidentally... Sento. How much do the bullets you wanted to test on me this morning cost?” 
“The bullets that remove reproductive function? ...I bought those a long time ago at a Maple Land 100 yen shop. With tax, they were 105 yen apiece.” 
What on Earth... “That’s outrageous.” 
“I agree that they seemed excessively cheap. That’s why I wanted to test them...” 
“Ah, forget it,” he sighed. “...Anyway, you really saved us. Thank you.” 
“Not at all. I intend to do whatever is required of me.” 
“I see. Then I’d like to request a little more of your service—”

They were standing before the gates of Maple Castle, at the center of the park, when Isuzu spoke up. “I didn’t think you meant this kind of service...” 
It was quite a revealing swimsuit to be wearing in such cold weather. She was a very curvy girl, well-endowed in the chest and backside, but her expression was sullen and her lips had started turning blue. 
“Um, Kanie-san. As a member of the cast, I don’t know if I should be wearing this...” Muse spoke up. She was standing bolt upright next to Isuzu, also in a swimsuit, her shapely, slender legs fidgeting. 
“Kanie-sama... are you certain you want me to be in the pictures?” Latifah asked. She was standing, partly supported by Isuzu—and also in a swimsuit, naturally. Her body was perilously thin, but well-proportioned, with lovely porcelain skin. 
Seiya held up his smartphone camera and started giving out instructions. 
“Take one step back. No, that’s too far back... Yes, there. Perfect. Stay right where you are, Princess. Okay, now hold up the poster.” 
Latifah tentatively held up her poster. It read, “Our 30th Anniversary is Coming Up!” The other two held up posters reading, “Everything just 30 yen!” and “It’s a steal!” 
“Um, um...” Muse stuttered shyly. “Will these pictures really make for good publicity?” 
“It’s a vulgar idea, if you ask me,” Isuzu muttered. 
“...Achoo!” Latifah sneezed. 
Three matchless beauties in revealing, provocative swimsuits... Seiya thought. Vulgar or not, it’ll definitely draw the eye. I’m not exactly a fan of this kind of tactic myself, but— 
“We need something eye-catching, that’s all,” he said out loud. “It doesn’t matter what it is.” 
The shutter snapped. The lighting was poor, but he could fix that with photo editing software. He continued taking pictures, regardless. 
“Come on, smile,” he encouraged them. “Let’s see those pearly whites. Don’t look like a slave on the block in ancient Rome.” 
“But that’s exactly how I feel...” Muse complained. 
“Sento. You’re the only one not smiling,” Seiya observed. “You’re still scowling.” 
“I’m trying to smile...” Isuzu replied. 
The cast, still cleaning their stations, watched the scene from afar. Some seemed delighted by the unexpected feast for the eyes, while quite a few others shot glares of disapproval. 
There’s no way in hell I’m going to let that stop me, though... Seiya thought to himself. 
“Okay,” he said. “Now, let’s make a video.” Latifah and Muse had shot glittering smiles, but right to the end, Isuzu remained dour. After taking as many photos as he could get, Seiya switched his smartphone to recording mode. “Say it all together, now, loud and clear... One, two...” 
“Amagi Brilliant Park, only 30 yen...” they said, weakly and not at all in sync. 
“Loud and clear, I said!” Seiya scolded them. “One more time! One, two...” 
“Amagi Brilliant Park!” the girls chimed together. “Only 30 yen!”

Seiya had felt a bit guilty about forcing the sickly princess to join them, but he didn’t have time to worry about appearances. He finished up the filming, then headed straight back to his office. 
He did some retouching on a rather old PC, which had been sent to him by General Affairs. He slapped on a random font, then laid out the details of the 30 yen campaign. All in all, it took him ten minutes. He called in the head of the PR department, sent the data to his address, and then gave him a detailed set of instructions. 
Incidentally, the head of PR was a strange creature from one of those magical realms. He looked like a three-heads-tall triceratops wearing stylish glasses. His name was Tricen—a bit on the nose as names went, but it appeared to be his real one. 
“Oh-ho... this is good. This is really, really quite good,” Tricen purred as he checked the raw video footage. “Normally, amateur videos like these are a dime a dozen, so they don’t make much of an impact, but this one’s different.” 
“Really? It was purely a move of desperation on my part...” Seiya admitted. 
“Absolutely,” Tricen reassured him. “The three of them have excellent assets—they’re cuter than most idol singers, and their reticence makes them more compelling. It lacks any sense of calculation, which is the heart of moe. I, the humble Tricen, must hunch over in appreciation.” They were atrocious things to say with such ease and sincerity. 
“...Hey,” Seiya objected indignantly. 
“Forgive me,” Tricen said apologetically. “...Anyway, I think these assets will cause a stir in the mascot industry.” 
“You think?” 
“Yes. Isuzu-san and Muse-san are both superior specimens, to be sure, but Latifah-sama is part of the Maple Land royal family. To see Her Highness looking... so frail and underdeveloped... ohh, the poignancy! But that poignancy is also attractive. Might I take a few moments in the bathroom?” 
“Absolutely not,” Seiya said firmly. Was there a single decent person in this park? 
“The only trouble,” Tricen observed, “is that it won’t appeal to the housewives at all. It may actually backfire with them...” 
“I have other things in mind for them.” 
“I see. But I must say... I am surprised that Moffle-san gave permission for Latifah-sama to appear like this.” 
“...?” What a strange thing to say, Seiya thought. Why would I need that rat’s permission? 
“Oh. You didn’t know? Lord Moffle is Latifah-sama’s—” The sound of a door bursting open interrupted Tricen’s words. 
“Kanie Seiyaaaa!” The door, kicked off its hinges, smashed into the far wall before toppling end-over-end to the floor. Moffle stomped his way in, radiating violence. 
“What is it, rat?” Seiya asked. 
“You’ll die for this fumooo!” Moffle charged at Seiya, and lashed out with a paw. Seiya just barely managed to dodge, weaving deftly to put some space between them. 
“What the hell?!” he demanded. 
“Shut up! How dare you use Latifah like some little tramp?! Swimsuits? Advertising?! Unforgivable, fumo!” Moffle pressured him further, dishing out paw-strikes right and left. “You know that Latifah is sick! Yet you sent her out in the cold air, forced her to debase herself in that sexualized outfit... It will not stand, fumo!” 
“Forced her?” Seiya objected incredulously, “I told her she didn’t have to do it!” 
“You knew she wouldn’t refuse, fumo! She’s... she’s... she’s a good girl, fumo! You took advantage of her!” Moffle vaulted forward with another powerful punch. Seiya dodged, leaving the mascot to break his desk in two. Tricen ran around, trying to avoid the flying splinters. 
“Fumomomomomomomo!” Another thousand paw-punches rained down on Seiya. 
“Gnaaaaaaaah!” Seiya rose to the challenge, deflecting each of them in turn. 
So fast! So powerful! He could feel Moffle’s anger and sorrow through his palms... 
“Ngh...” There was honesty in this power. Did he owe it to Moffle, as a man, to bear the brunt of his heart’s primal scream? Was that his duty as acting manager? Like hell it is! 
“You damned rat!” He let an attack slip by, then lashed out with a roundhouse kick. Fists in a guard position, Moffle bent over to dodge, and simultaneously let out a swift one-two. Pa-pow! Seiya blocked the punches, gained some distance, then worked to catch his breath. Looks like I can’t let him get in too close, he realized. 
Hey, is that...! Those rhythmical movements of his body. That guard position, with his short arms pulled back, like he was chewing on his fists. Yes, it was... 
“Peek-A-Boo style?!” Seiya demanded incredulously. The ultimate close-range fighting style—Mike Tyson’s specialty, which had laid out countless opponents. It was considered something of an anachronism under boxing’s current focus on safety, but it could still imbue a strong, short fighter with devastatingly explosive power. With Moffle’s height and his god-given strength, it could unleash amazing force. 
Moffle’s expression changed, as if to say, Oh? You know it? “That’s right,” he boasted. “I was taught by the famous Cus D’Amato, Tyson’s own trainer. I was the last of his students, fumo.” 
Yeah, I doubt that, Seiya thought skeptically. And if it’s true, how the hell old does that make you? 
“I’d sworn that I’d never use the style on an amateur. But for you, Kanie Seiya... For the sake of your execution, I will break that seal.” Moffle’s rush was like the charge of a reinforced tank. “You’ll feel the gravity of your crime... for making Latifah look sexy, fumo!” 
This wasn’t good, Seiya realized. If the office was a ring, then he’d been driven into the corner. At this rate, he’d have nowhere to run to. He’d just end up pummeled! “Ngh...” Wasn’t there anywhere he could go? No opening to the left, no opening to the right... Yet there was one way. Yes, it was... up! 
“Ngaaaaaagh!” Seiya attempted a superhuman jump into the air. Moffle clicked his tongue and attempted to intercept. Then, Sento Isuzu fired “pain like stubbing your little toe on the dresser” bullets into both of them. 
“That’s quite enough,” Isuzu said. She held her musket at the ready, looking down at the two of them writhing on the ground. She was already in her park uniform; she must have gotten changed, and then run all the way here. 
“Mof... fu...!” 
“Th-That... hurts...!” 
“Enough of this pointless fighting,” Isuzu told them firmly. “...Now, Lord Moffle. The princess agreed to modeling with full understanding of the situation.” 
“Moffu. But... but...!” Tears of chagrin streamed down Moffle’s cheeks. 
“The princess showed no signs of distress,” she continued. “Crimson from embarrassment, she declared ‘Forsooth, that such apparel might please the rougher sex... ’tis abashment unrival’d!’” 
“Grr...” 
“Why did you put it in literary style?” Seiya wanted to know. And doesn’t that amount to her saying, “It’s embarrassing that men would find this outfit pleasing?” 
Isuzu ignored him, and went on, “One of the vassals who heard it said... ‘Your words reach their ears, milady, and they squeeeth.’” In other words, the princess’s words made the men squee. 
“Seriously, why the literary style?” Seiya demanded. “...And can you really conjugate ‘squee’ that way?” 
“At any rate, Latifah-sama gave ready consent to the matter,” Isuzu concluded. “Therefore, Lord Moffle, I cannot agree that your protest is appropriate.” 
“Moffu... But you should avoid taking Latifah-sama out of the rooftop garden,” he said with dismay. “You know that’s the barrier, fumo.” 
“She should be safe as long as I’m with her,” said Isuzu. 
“Fine, fumo,” Moffle reluctantly agreed. 
“Kanie-kun. Moffle caused another problem. Are you going to fire him?” she asked. 
“...No. He kept it backstage, so it doesn’t count.” If he’d tried something like this in front of the guests, Seiya would have fired him on the spot. Fortunately, they were in his office, behind closed doors. As infuriating as it might be, he couldn’t fire someone based on personal emotion. 
“Understood,” she affirmed. “Fine, then. Return to work at once, Moffle.”

Work was over for the day. 
The guests who were shown into the plaza were counted as entrants, so attendance was along the lines of what he’d expected: 1,491. 
PR manager Tricen worked hard, and got the Amagi Brilliant Park 30 yen promotion uploaded to the internet around dinnertime. The sexy advertising video that had so enraged Moffle was now on both the park’s homepage, and a popular video site. 
After returning home exhausted around midnight, Seiya checked the hits on the promo video. Tricen was right when he said that the girls had considerable appeal; it was a shameless and transparent ploy, but one that would surely attract attention. 
Never underestimate sex appeal... he thought. Attracting attention was their first priority. They had to do whatever it took to get there. However... Contrary to his hopes, the announcement video’s hits were a mere 83. 
It had been four hours since he had uploaded the promotion. Even if it was just people associated with the park checking it out of curiosity, he would have wanted it to be a little higher. Perhaps he’d been naive after all. 
[Today’s park attendance: 1,491. (97,298 from goal) / 12 days left.]

Seiya took the next day off from school as well. It was the first day of the 30 yen campaign; he just couldn’t bring himself to sit in class and wait for reports. He commuted to the park early in the morning to see how things were going onstage, micromanage, and hold conferences. 
Attendance was even lower than it had been the day before. It was a weekday; a Wednesday. It was natural that there wouldn’t be many people there. Besides, hardly anybody knew about the 30 yen campaign yet. Seiya planned to keep promoting during the week, with newspaper inserts and the like, but he had his doubts about how much attention that would garner. 
In the gaps between various tasks and meetings, he continued checking the Internet. Just before closing time, there were 163 hits on the announcement video. Almost no increase at all. 
He was passing through the cast entrance on the way home, cradling his head in disappointment, when the security officer addressed him. “Heading home, Kanie-san?” 
“Yeah...” 
“Today was a strange day, wasn’t it?” the security guard observed. 
“...?” 
“Well... As you know, there are a number of surveillance cameras onstage,” he confided. “They pick up audio, too. I watch them in my spare time, and...” 
“And?” Seiya asked back. The security guard smiled awkwardly, as if unsure about exactly what to say. 
“I heard a great deal of laughter, from both the cast and the guests...” 
Seiya was utterly exhausted. He was exhausted, so he didn’t pay any heed to the security guard’s words. Their attendance numbers were hopeless. Laughter? he thought, What good is that supposed to do us? 
He returned home and checked their hits again: 218. It was impossible. How could he get 100,000 people to the park when only 200 had seen his video?

[Today’s park attendance: 1,448. (95,850 from goal) / 11 days left.]

Suzuran Shopping Street, Amagi Station North Entrance 
They were back at “Savage,” the yakitori bar near Amagi Station. 
“I came because you said you were having a kickoff celebration...” Isuzu said. “Why is it just the four of us here?” She was sitting around the table in the tatami mat room with Moffle, Macaron, and Tiramii. 
“I invited others, but they didn’t come, fumo...” Moffle said. 
“Moffle’s surprisingly unpopular, ron,” Macaron said. 
“Social drinking after work isn’t as trendy as it once was, mii. Especially since it doesn’t come with overtime pay,” Tiramii said. 
“Well, it’s all right, fumo. What matters is that work’s over for the day. Cheers...” 
Listless and haphazard, the four of them brought their mugs together. Isuzu’s glass inevitably hit that of Moffle, who was next to her, and that of Tiramii, who was right in front of her. But Macaron was across the table diagonally, so she was awkwardly unable to make contact. It wasn’t worth calling for another toast over, but she still felt a little rude about withdrawing her glass. 
“......” For the first time, Isuzu had experienced the awkwardness of failing to toast with someone she wasn’t terribly close to. 
The three of them drained their mugs of beer and Hoppy, then let out a deep sigh. Isuzu had oolong tea, so she just drank enough to match the mood. 
“...So, Macaron? How did things go with the lawyer, mii?” 
“They’re willing to give me some leeway on my daughter’s child support payments. But she sends her to a private school, so there’s a lot of expenses, ron...” Macaron whispered limply. 
Moffle glared at him from the corner of his eye. “I told you not to get involved with that woman, fumo. Former idols are always extravagant spenders. Nothing good was ever going to come out of it, fumo.” 
“You’ve told me over and over, ron...” There was pain in Macaron’s voice. “But when we first got married, I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, ron...” 
“Marriage is the end of life, fumo.” Moffle declared with great authority. 
Though as far as Isuzu knew, Moffle had never been married... Ahh, of course. It must be some kind of aphorism. 
“Women like her know how to hide their machinations,” Moffle counseled. “Men’s inability to catch on is the sad fate of our race, fumo.” 
“I agree, mii. Here’s some words of wisdom from ol’ Tiramii... ‘When you see a pretty woman, assume she’s a slut.’ It’ll save you lots of time, mii. Y’know?” 
Tiramii’s thoughtless words roused Macaron to anger. “Are you calling my ex-wife a slut, ron?!” 
“Well she is, mii. She already got herself a new man, didn’t she?” 
“Well... I have heard that, but...” Macaron trailed off. 
“And she wasn’t a virgin when you got married, mii. Moffle said you stressed out about that, for a while.” 
“I-It’s true that I was shocked when she said she’d had some wild years, but... Ngh... stop it. Just stop it, ron!” Macaron clutched his head in agony. Beside him, Moffle blew out a plume of cigarette smoke. 
“Well... you know. Her past partners aren’t a big deal, fumo. Rolling with life’s punches is part of a man’s training, fumo.” 
“That’s a nice turn of phrase, mii.” 
“You’ll go through a lot of experiences in life, fumo. Some day you might look back on this and think ‘that was rough, but it wasn’t all bad,’ fumo.” 
“The lectures aren’t making me feel any better, ron!” 

What would the guests think if they heard this depressing conversation? Isuzu cleared her throat loudly, as if to tell them to knock it off. “So, is this really supposed to be a kickoff celebration?” she asked. “I thought we’d be talking about something enlivening. I’m disappointed.” 
The three of them looked at her disdainfully. 
“Don’t be so insensitive, fumo.” 
“It’s just small talk building up to the main discussion, ron.” 
“You should appreciate our attempts to break the ice, mii.” 
The three spoke in turn. 
“And anyway, there’s not much to talk about, mii. I guess if anything, I’d want to hear more about him.” 
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, ron.” 
“Him?” Isuzu questioned. 
“Kanie Seiya, ron.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Giggling, Tiramii imitated Seiya’s usual expression. All he did was turn his mouth into a sullen scowl, though, so he didn’t look much like him at all. “Give it to us straight, mii! Isuzu-chan, are you into him?” 
“I don’t understand what you’re asking,” she replied pointedly. 
“You spend more time with him than anyone in the park, mii. We know you’ve been especially protective of him. It’s intriguing, mii.” 
“Well... it’s my job,” she said defensively. “There’s nothing suspect about me supporting him.” 
The three of them narrowed their eyes at her with deep curiosity. 
“Still, we want to know if you’re into him or not, mii.” 
“Just be honest, ron.” 
“Let it all out. You’ll feel better, fumo.” 
How can they be so insensitive? she wondered. No matter how I answer, they’ll misinterpret it. Then, if it got back to him, it could result in a terrible misunderstanding. She couldn’t have that. It would cause trouble in several respects. 
“...I’m leaving,” she announced abruptly. 
As Isuzu stood up, the three immediately burst into whispers. 
“Oh? Avoiding the subject, are you, fumo?” 
“Does that mean you’re into him? Is that how we should interpret this, ron?!” 
“I heard she spent the night at his house, mii. I bet they’ve already done it, mii.” 
“...You people. You deserve a taste of death.” To avoid causing trouble for the restaurant, she shot one pain bullet precisely into each of the mascots. Leaving the three writhing in agony behind her, Isuzu left the yakitori bar behind.