Amagi Brilliant Park - Volume 2 - Chapter 1.1

1: Not Enough People! 
“Not enough people!” Kanie Seiya shouted to the conference room. It was the first week of April. 
The others gathered around the cheap tables were the most crucial members of Amagi Brilliant Park’s cast. They weren’t all old men in suits, either. Many of them were strange creatures, three heads’ tall: plush-bodied rodents, strange dinosaur-like beings with scales and horns—an eclectic lineup of fantastical beings, all wearing dismal expressions. These were “real” mascots that had all come from one magical realm or another to work in this mortal amusement park. 
“We don’t have enough people,” Seiya repeated. “Actually, there’s a whole lot we don’t have enough of, but people is high on the list. Maintenance, food prep, clean-up... We need to boost staff in all of those fields!” 
While Seiya was riled up and clenching his fists tightly, the others present at the meeting all looked rather apathetic. 
“I thought we had enough staff...” the crimson-clad Sento Isuzu murmured. 
Isuzu was a member of the royal guard of a magical realm called Maple Land. She had been given the official title “Secretarial Department Head” starting in April. 
“We do not! Let’s take an example. Sento, you have that lofty-sounding title ‘Secretarial Department Head,’ correct? But how many people are in that department? Speak!” 
“One.” 
“Yes, one! We... well, we probably don’t need more secretaries, but... The point is, we have too many departments being staffed only by one person! And what’s more... Security Chief Okuro!” 
“Ah, yes?” Okuro, the security guard, raised his hand when called upon. He was just an ordinary mortal, not from any magical realm. There was another elderly security guard who oversaw the night shift, and in general, the security staff were all mortals. 
“How many people are there on the security team?” Seiya demanded. 
“Four,” Okuro answered him, “although two of them are part-timers...” On a three-shift system, that meant there would always be exactly one person in the security center at all times. 
“Exactly! And that’s all the people we have providing security for a 500,000 square meter territory? It’s insane! What if a madman with a kitchen knife went on a rampage onstage? Would you be enough to stop it, Okuro?!” 
“Now, don’t you worry, Kanie-san,” the security guard said reassuringly. “I’d throw my life away to stop any hooligan.” 
“You’d throw your life away, would you?” Seiya retorted. “And what happens then? While you’re lying prone in a sea of blood with a dozen stab wounds, he’ll be moving on to the other guests! Idiot!” 
“Ah, fair enough!” Okuro sat down, sticking out his tongue (a gesture that was doubly annoying) and rubbing the back of his head self-effacingly. 
“No need for concern, Seiya. I’ll gladly kill any hooligans that try me, fumo,” said Moffle, the cast leader. 
Moffle was AmaBri’s headlining character. He had a short, stout, plush body like a wombat or a mouse, and wore a stylish hat and bow tie. 
“You’d kill them? Really? Can you imagine the headlines the next day?” Seiya suggested. “‘Amagi Brilliant Park Headliner Slays Hooligan with Excessive Force.’ You really think that’ll bring in the guests?” 
“It certainly will, fumo,” Moffle retorted. “I’d be a hero.” 
“Your job is to make the guests happy, not to kill people!” 
“If you insist, fumo...” Moffle didn’t seem convinced, but Seiya decided to move on anyway. “It’s not just security,” he continued. “We’re shorthanded in every single job we have. The onstage cast have been filling in where they can, but the burden negatively affects their performance. It’s not sustainable.” 
“...You’re saying we should hire more people?” Isuzu asked him. 
“Yes.” 
“Even though we don’t have any money?” she pushed. 
“I’m working on that, too,” he told her. “...What’s with that look? Quit worrying. I really am working on it.” 
In reality, the plans he had were still vague, but it was important for him to project confidence right now. 
“Anyway,” Seiya continued, “I’ve put out an ad for part-timers, and I’ve gotten quite a few bites. Interviews will start next week, so be ready for that!” he declared resolutely. 
“Do you really think we’ll get any decent applicants?” Isuzu whispered. It was a serious question with no sarcasm behind it at all. 
“I don’t know if we will or not,” he said firmly, “but we still have to try.” 
“Well, I suppose...” 
That’s when the head of the PR department, Tricen, spoke up. “Kanie-san is quite correct, Isuzu-san. We might get a flood of people brimming with talent! Like beautiful women, or beautiful women, or even beautiful women! The park will be like the world of a PC game, and the male cast will surely hunch over in appreciation.” 
“Stop that,” Seiya said with a snarl. “And don’t lump all PC games together. As a Western gamer, it offends me.” 
“Oh, my! Are you one of those, Kanie-san...?” Tricen gushed. “I’d assumed you were the closeted type. Acting all hardcore, going to Akiba just for Trader Chaos or PC parts shops... then secretly buying 18+ games off of Amazon.” 
“Unfortunately, I think I know the kind of person you’re talking about...” Seiya muttered. “But I’m in high school, anyway. I don’t play 18+ stuff.” 
“I beg your utmost pardon,” Tricen apologized. “...But what I was saying is that we might even get applicants who could threaten Isuzu-san’s position as Kanie-san’s beautiful secretary.” 
“Ridiculous. Hey, Sento. Tell him off, would you?” Seiya looked at Isuzu in exasperation. 
She turned her gaze downward, thought for a moment, and then spoke: “...Well, if the person is more capable than I am, then I would gladly yield my current position.” Her response immediately brought down the mood in the conference room. 
No one knew what to say to such a straight-faced response. 
Seiya thought about pointing that out, but he decided to just give up with a sigh. This was the kind of person Sento Isuzu was: she couldn’t parse humor. She couldn’t roll with the punches, or give as good as she got. 
He’d heard that she was a member of the royal guard for Maple Land, the magical kingdom that built AmaBri. He didn’t know much about what things were like there, but he’d gotten the impression that she was some kind of highly-trained, elite soldier. But, even taking that into account, there were things about her behavior that remained inscrutable... 
“Well, anyway,” he said quickly, “Let’s move on to the next subject...” 
AmaBri was facing a mountain of problems, after all. Seiya’s next topic was their extremely important (but also extremely boring) budgetary issues. 
There was nothing strange about Isuzu’s behavior for the rest of the meeting.

The night after the conference, Sento Isuzu had a strange dream. They were interviewing part-time applicants, and every single one of them was a gorgeous woman. The interviewers were Isuzu and Seiya—for some reason, just them. 
The first applicant was a female college student. She was taller than Isuzu, with a motherly face and a voluptuous figure. 
“The position I want is to be your secretary,” the woman said sweetly to Seiya. “Despite what my appearance may suggest, I have passed the level two secretary proficiency test. I could surely be of use to you in many ways...” 
Kanie Seiya leaned forward, eyes shining and intrigued. “I see, I see. You’re hired, then. Your ‘big sister’ charms will comfort me in my darkest moments.” 
Isuzu attempted to scold Seiya for his flippant decision, but she couldn’t. She just flapped her mouth uselessly as no sound emerged from her throat. It was as if she was trying to talk in the vacuum of space. 
Seiya stamped “Hired” on her resume. Then, rather than leaving the interview room, the woman rounded the desk and draped herself over his left shoulder. 
“Hmm, good,” he commented. “I enjoy the pressure of your breast against my shoulder. It feels good. What a high-pressure interview! Bwahahaha!” 
“You are wonderful, Kanie-san,” she simpered. “Such wit!” 
“Cut it out, you’re making me blush. Bwahahaha!” He seemed to notice Isuzu’s scolding glance, but brushed it off with a grin. “What are you glaring at, Sento? Go on, call in the next one.” 
Reluctantly, she led the next applicant into the interview room. 
The next one was a lively-looking female high school student. She had short chestnut hair, large eyes and a mischievous face. She had an athletic body and—almost obligatorily—a large chest. 
“Um... thanks for having me! The position I want is to be your secretary!” she proclaimed boldly, despite her nervous expression. “I-I’m a first degree black belt in secretary certifications! I’m sure I’ll be useful!” 
Since when did secretary certifications have belt rankings? the dreaming Isuzu wondered. 
Isuzu’s brow knitted as Seiya gave the high school student’s resume a stamp. 
“Hired! Now, come here. Let’s give those breasts a nice new home! Bwahahaha!” 
“Y-Yes sir...” She scampered around the desk and draped herself over Seiya’s right side. 
“A double high-pressure interview!” he snickered. 
“You’re so wonderful, Kanie-san,” she gushed. 
“Such wit!” the first girl chimed in again. 
What on Earth is going on? Isuzu wondered. I want them all to die. I want to go home. 
Seiya, on the other hand, just laughed uproariously, then ordered Isuzu to send in the next applicant. 
The next applicant was an elementary school girl. She had long black hair and slender legs and arms. Despite her cherubic appearance, though, her eyes flashed with intelligence. 
“The position I want is to be your secretary,” she said, looking down on Seiya and the others with a vaguely sadistic gaze. “I can revitalize this park in ways you incompetents couldn’t dream of. Get it? So hire me right now.” 
“Yeah, you’re hired!” he told her. “Now, come sit on my lap!” 
“If I must... but just this once.” She, too, rounded the desk to take a seat on Seiya’s lap. 
“I like that weight of your lower half!” he leered. “Triple high-pressure interview!” 
“You’re so wonderful, Kanie-san!” the second girl told him. 
“Such wit!” added the first. 
“Really... what a silly boy you are...” chided the new girl. 

Seiya laughed uproariously side-by-side with his new secretaries. Isuzu tried to say something about this bizarre situation, but her voice still wouldn’t come. While her mouth continued to flap uselessly, Seiya and the three girls turned to glare at her coldly. 
“Oh, Sento. Are you still here?” he asked. “As you can see, your services are no longer required. Please leave at once. Go be an attendant to that princess of yours, Latifah—like the faceless extra you are.” 
This is insufferable, Isuzu fumed. How dare you— 
The sound of a shot blasting through the ceiling caused her to open her eyes. In her hands was an ivory musket with ornamental gold trim. Above her was a black bullet hole in the ceiling. 
She was in her bedroom in the park’s employee dorm. She narrowed her eyes against the bits of plaster that were crumbling down on her. 
Ahh, a dream. Of course it was... 
Those three beautiful secretary applicants were a fabrication. They were symbols of things she didn’t have—of things she would never have, no matter how she struggled. 
The idea that he would fawn over them like that was also pure fiction. She’d never seen him behave like that, and she knew very well that he wasn’t that kind of man. And yet— 
“Mm...” She sat up in bed and put her musket away. 
The magical gun Steinberger, handed down through generations of her family, was a magical weapon that had merged with her body and mind. It could be pulled from or stored in any exposed skin on her body. Since her thighs constituted the greatest area of this, it was most efficient to draw it from there, even if that did mean it looked like she was pulling it out of her skirt. 
Still, she had never fired her gun in her sleep before, and it was even more annoying to know that she had fired it in anger over a silly dream. 
It was a little bit after 6:00 a.m. She felt too alert to go back to bed, for some reason, so she decided to give up on trying. Instead, she got out of bed and took a shower. 
If Isuzu didn’t get three showers per day, she’d start feeling like she was going to die. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said that to Seiya—she really did start to feel like she would die. Of course, she wouldn’t actually die... 
She stripped off her underwear and immersed her naked body in the hot water spray. 
Water flowed across her flushed skin and fell off of her in droplets. As she gazed at the ripples the drops created in the tub below, she thought to herself: I wonder where that dream came from... 
The answer flickered in the back of her mind. Dreams like these are often a reflection of your anxieties, it said. What am I anxious about, my own insufficiency? she wondered. It was possible. 
I was sent to this park last year to turn things around, yet I accomplished absolutely nothing in the time that I had. I acted like an imperious soldier, which did nothing but make the cast hate me. In the end, it was Kanie Seiya, the mortal chosen by the revelation, who saved the park... and while I was glad for that, it did reflect poorly on me. 
Although, that by itself she didn’t mind... 
I was fully prepared to be relieved of duty and called back to Maple Land. I had been proven insufficient to the task, after all. 
Curling up in the bathtub and bathing in the hot water from the shower head, Isuzu continued to think. I don’t think my feelings of insufficiency would be enough to inspire a dream like that... Could I be jealous of Kanie Seiya, then? Regardless of how he did it, in a mere two weeks he brought in a number of guests that we once thought impossible. Am I jealous of his ability? 
No, that wasn’t quite right either... 
To be quite honest, the main thing she felt for his abilities was admiration. Were she more comfortable with herself, she might have swept him into her arms and thanked him profusely, tears streaming from her eyes. 
But she hadn’t done that. She couldn’t do it. 
Why? she pondered. If I wasn’t jealous... 
Then it must be— 
No, no, no... She thrust away the answer that presented itself to her, shook her head slightly, then turned off the shower. 
I must be going crazy, Isuzu told herself. I can’t be having feelings like that. I just can’t. 
For one thing, he’d laugh at me. Everyone in the park would laugh at me, she repeated to herself, as she wiped down with a clean towel. 
Then, as was her usual practice, she put her stockings on first. Her underwear would go on after. This was just how she had done it since she was little; there was no particular reason for it. 
It reminded her of the incident at his apartment. She had gotten out of the bath and was dressing herself as she was doing now, when he just happened to step into the dressing room. 
In that moment, she had applied what she believed was known in the mortal world as a “poker face.” What else could she do? 
Isuzu had pretended that she was perfectly calm, but of course, she wasn’t. She just had a personality that allowed her to appear more cool-headed the greater the emergency she found herself in. Even if bombs were going off nearby, she would always remain the perfect image of calm. 
After putting on her underwear and using a dryer on her lustrous hair, she brushed her teeth, and then peered into the mirror. She tried a smile, then tried crying. 
There was slight movement around the corners of her eyes and mouth, but in general, her face maintained its usual indifference. Isuzu had always had a hard time expressing even the slightest emotion. 
She put on her more-or-less obligatory lip gloss, then tried puckering her lips; this time it worked. There was something a bit sexy about it. 
Isuzu tried to do it again, putting in all her effort, but this time she failed. Her lips just twisted awkwardly, then ended up in a scowl.

The food served at AmaBri’s employee cafeteria, AM, was extremely bad. 
Nobody knew why the cafeteria was known as AM. It offered three specials—which hadn’t changed once in the three years she’d been there—as well as foul-smelling gyudon, dry napolitan spaghetti, and chicken curry. 
The chicken curry was the worst of the lot. It was full of tough carrots and onions; the chicken wasn’t cooked all the way through; and, perhaps because they used cheap curry powder, it had a strange funk to it. 
It was honestly hard to make a curry that tasted bad, yet as if through some kind of anti-miracle, AM had achieved this terrible curry. Isuzu sometimes wondered if selling it onstage and advertising it as “Amagi Brilliant Park presents the world’s worst curry” might be a draw. 
That morning, as punishment for allowing herself to have such a stupid dream and lose her cool, Isuzu was buying a ticket for that chicken curry. (At least, that’s what she told herself—in fact, its low 240 yen price point may have played a greater role.) 
“Wow, someone’s actually buying the curry, ron.” 
As she took her 260 yen in change from the ticket machine, Isuzu heard a voice from behind her. 
It was the Fairy of Music, Macaron. 
He was a white, fluffy, adorable sheep mascot who stood 2.5 heads tall. He was a long-time member of the cast, and he ran Macaron’s Music Theater, an attraction in AmaBri’s Sorcerer’s Hill area. 
“Good morning, Macaron,” she greeted him. 
“Morning, ron. Isuzu-chan, I have to ask... are you really gonna eat the curry here, ron?” 
“...It’s cheap,” she responded. “There’s a philosophical reason behind it as well.” 
“I... I see. But be careful, ron. Wanipii ate it once and he erupted... from both ends, if you know what I mean. He ended up spending a few days in Amagi Hospital, getting his fluids through an IV.” 
Isuzu wondered: If it really had been that bad, why hadn’t the infirmary tried to trace it back to its point of origin? But instead of responding, she just walked away from the ticket machine. 
She traded her ticket for the curry in question, put it on a tray, and then moved to take a seat. It was morning, so nearly all the seats were filled, mostly by cast members who lived in the park’s dorms. 
Isuzu lived in the girls’ dorm, so she ate here twice per day, in the morning and the evening. Macaron must live in the boys’ dormitory too, then, she realized. Even though his usual compatriots, like Moffle and Tiramii, tended to rent cheap apartments outside the park. 
Everyone in the cast had their own situations, though. She saw no reason to pry into his personal affairs. 
“Can I sit here, ron?” Macaron wandered into the seat across from Isuzu. It seemed natural, given the lack of seats around them, so she nodded. 
Macaron had chosen the baked fish special, which was one of the more edible options the cafeteria offered. If it hadn’t been for that ridiculous dream this morning, she might have chosen the fish, too. Although its 480 yen price point, versus the curry’s 240 yen, was further inspiration for her to choose the latter. 
Pathetic, she thought. For a member of Magical Realm Maple Land’s elite royal guard to seriously choose between 240 yen curry and 480 yen fish... 
“This is the first time we’ve ever talked over breakfast, ron,” Macaron said. 
“I see,” said Isuzu. 
“You always eat alone. You’ve got this real aura of unapproachability, ron.” 
“Ah.” 
“Well, it was reasonable enough, given your position, ron.” 
“You may be right,” Isuzu agreed. 
Last year, Isuzu’s position at AmaBri had been something close to acting manager. Prior to that, she’d been a soldier in Maple Land’s royal guard. In a way, she was like the archetypal elite young bureaucrat taken out of the central office and dispatched to a remote outpost. She hadn’t been welcome here, and it had been difficult to get results. 
The camaraderie among AmaBri’s staff was surprisingly strong, given how lousy the park itself was, yet Isuzu had remained isolated among them. 
“Am I bothering you? Sorry if I am, ron.” 
Isuzu’s responses remained perfunctory, so Macaron stopped trying to engage and just went back to eating, scarfing down his amberjack fillet and slurping his miso soup. 
Isuzu wasn’t trying to be cold to him; she was just never sure how to respond to comments like his, or how to enrich a conversation. It had been that way in the Maple Land guard, too. 
She wasn’t trying to turn others away, but that always seemed to be the end result, regardless. A cold, inflexible, domineering woman who would gladly strong-arm others to get her way—that was how everyone seemed to see her, and the people here were no different. 
She was always wishing she could handle things a little better, but things never seemed to improve. 
Silently, she brought a spoonful of curry to her mouth. As expected, it was undercooked, it had an aftertaste, and it was all-around awful. 
“Isuzu-chan,” Macaron said. “If it’s gross, you should say that, ron. Honesty is good for the soul.” 
She should have just admitted it, but instead, with her expression firmly locked in indifference, she simply whispered: “Perhaps.” 
“There you go again, ron.” Macaron let out a low, thoughtful bleat. “I used to think you were being distant because you were our acting manager... is it a communication disorder? Do you have a communication disorder, ron?” 
She was startled by the personal nature of his question. Before she could respond, though, he thrust his hoof forward to stop her. 
“I suspect you’re the type who thinks so much that you end up forgetting to talk, ron. You should really work on that, ron.” 
“......” Isuzu waffled over whether or not to tell him to mind his own business; his advice was sensible enough, but it wasn’t something she wanted to hear first thing in the morning. 
She and Macaron were not especially close, either. On the other hand, she pondered, maybe he’s just trying to be considerate? It would hardly be wise to shoot down his kindness and further deplete her work relationships. Then again, if she permitted this now, would that just give him license to presume upon her even more? 
For lack of any better response, she just ended up saying: “I suppose so.” 
Macaron seemed openly disappointed with yet another perfunctory reaction. “That’s not nice, ron. I’m just saying this because I’m worried about you. ...Hey, it’s Kanie-kun.” 
“......?” Prompted by his words, Isuzu looked in the direction of the cafeteria door. No one was there; it was just some anonymous cast member on his way out. 
She turned back to Macaron. For some reason, he was sitting up very straight, looking off in the distance, whistling innocently. “My mistake, ron.” 
“...I see.” Though dubious about his strange behavior, she brought another spoonful of disgusting curry to her mouth. Her teeth crunched down on something hard, but assuming it must just be some dried-out rice, she decided to swallow it down. She followed it up with a drink of water, then resumed her ordeal under Macaron’s careful watch. 
What she couldn’t see was that, under the table, Macaron had clenched his hoof in triumph as he mouthed a very soft “yes!”

It was a weekday, so Isuzu’s next stop was Amagi High School, in the city. She’d originally transferred to the school to recruit Kanie Seiya, so presumably, her task was now over. But her lady, Latifah Fleuranza, the manager of AmaBri, had told her this: 
“Kanie Seiya-sama is our savior. It is our duty to see that he wants for nothing, even in his education. From now on, you must remain by his side for as much of the day as you can.” 
Latifah had lost her memory at the end of the school year, so she couldn’t have personally known about the struggles that Seiya had been through in March. But when the princess of Maple Land told her to do something, Isuzu could hardly refuse. Thus, she had reluctantly resumed attendance at Amagi High School, this time as a second-year student. 
The strangeness first began when a girl from her class addressed her in the hallway: “Morning, Sento-san. You’re looking pretty down.” 
Isuzu had talked to this person a few times since the new term started. She was a bit of a leading figure among the girls, and even looked after the students who didn’t really fit in. Her greeting Isuzu was an extension of that role. 
Normally, Isuzu would just say “I don’t think I am,” and end the conversation. But this morning, her reply came immediately: “Yes, I am down. I had a bad dream, I ate awful curry, and I had to endure a co-worker’s unsolicited advice. Nothing at work is going well, the cast is all slacking off, and I can’t stop worrying that we won’t meet our attendance quota this year.” She got that far, then forced her mouth shut. 
The girl stared in disbelief at Isuzu’s sudden, involuntary logorrhea. “Oh... I see. That sounds rough.” 
“It is rough. My successor, Kanie-kun, is a brilliant person for better or worse. I’m not jealous of his abilities, of course, but I’m in a position where I’m supposed to be supporting him, and I’m not sure I’m doing what’s expected of me. I also have no faith in myself. So—” Isuzu clamped her hands over her mouth to force an end to the stream of words spilling from it. 
What on earth am I talking about? she wondered. Babbling on about my work troubles to someone I barely even know... I’ve never done anything like this before. 
“Um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but...” 
“You’re a mortal, of course, so it’s none of your business. Please, forget everything I said. If you don’t, I’ll have to use my magical gun Steinberger to—mmph!” Isuzu seized her out-of-control jaw in both hands and held it forcibly shut. 
“U-Um? Sento-san?” the girl ventured. 
“Mm... ah. Sorry,” Isuzu managed to squeeze out, then did an about-face and ran away. 
 
“By the way, Macaron,” Tiramii said, as they took a break from morning dance practice. “How are things going with those druth nuts I gave you, mii?” 
They were backstage in the No. 2 Building. This was a three-story structure mainly used for parade and show dance rehearsals. The room in which they were practicing now was about the size of a school classroom, and it had one wall covered in mirrors. 
Tiramii and Macaron were taking a short break, while Moffle gave performance tips to the male and female background dancers they’d hired from a local theater company. 
“One, two! One, two! Okay, now turn, fumo!” Moffle was clapping his paws as he barked out instructions to the dancers. “One, two! One, two! You, there! You’re late again! Why are you always late? You’re gonna let down the audience, fumo!” 
Not enough people and not enough funding. As a result of these troubles, Moffle had been pulling double duty as AmaBri’s choreographer and stage producer for a while now. It was the kind of situation that would usually lead to a quick crash and burn, but Moffle had proven himself surprisingly capable at this particular job. 
“Got it, fumo?! When one comes, you need to already be getting ready for two. Let’s do it slow. One... now, two... You get it now? Let’s try it one more time, fumo. Turn back... okay, one! Now on the ground... now, two!” 
The dancers moved awkwardly, but in unison. 
“Yes, yes, yes! Much better, fumo! Now, let’s speed it up, bit by bit. Okay, one, two... Yes, okay! One, two! ...Yes, great, fumo!” 
Watching Moffle and the practicing dancers from afar, Tiramii and Macaron chuckled. 
“Has Moffle... changed, mii?” 
“Well... he does seem a bit kinder in his teachings than before, ron.” 
In the past, he’d been much less sociable. “Why can’t you get it right, fumo?! You’re all hacks, fumo!” he would shout, heaping the hired dancers with abuse and bringing down the whole mood of the theater. 
But now that the park’s life had been extended by another year, he could probably relax and afford to be kinder to the dancers. 
“Anyway, back to the subject, mii. Macaron, what did you do with the druth nuts, mii?” Tiramii asked again. 
Macaron gave a thoughtful bleat, gazing into the distance. “Ahh, the druth nuts? I tried one out this morning, ron.” 
“Oh-ho...” Tiramii chortled. 
“I was afraid to try them myself,” Macaron admitted, “so I slipped one into Isuzu-chan’s curry.” 
“How devilish of you, mii.” Tiramii grinned. He knew very well what it did. 
Druth nuts were a mysterious, magical breed of nut that grew in the mountains behind Tiramii’s childhood home. They caused those who ate them to immediately answer any question with the complete, unvarnished truth. How long the effect lasted would vary by individual, but it could range from a few hours to half a day. Incidentally, they had a very distinct flavor, and could be delicious when simmered with chicken, onions, sugar, and soy sauce (though it wasn’t recommended that you eat the dish with people you don’t get along with). 
“No need to worry, ron. Druth nuts are legal.” 
“...Macaron. I gave you those nuts so that you could learn how your ex and your daughter really feel about you, mii. I didn’t give them to you to play mean pranks on Isuzu-chan, mii.” 
“I know! I just wanted to test its effectiveness, ron. Unfortunately, Isuzu-chan ended up going to school instead...” 
“That’s too bad, mii. I’d have asked her how many times she jasterboots a week.” 
“Jasterboot” was a Maple Land term for a certain act. We won’t go into details here, but it wasn’t anything you would discuss in polite company. It was related to a certain Maple Land insult—“go puff yourself!”—but we’ll leave out the details of exactly what that means, as well. 
“If you asked her that, she’d definitely kill you later, ron.” 
“No need to worry,” came a voice. “I’ll kill you right now.” 
They turned around to see Isuzu standing there. She was dressed in her Amagi High School uniform, with her usual musket in hand. Her expression looked blank, at first, but her eyes were burning bright with rage. 
“Ohh...” they both wailed. 
She started firing. Both were assailed, again and again, with a pain four times as bad as stubbing your little toe on a dresser.

Kanie Seiya hadn’t gone to school that day, so he’d been in his AmaBri office since that morning. 
He was having a disheartening meeting with Ashe, the head of the accounting department. He had heard an acerbic run-down on their dry (yet despair-inducing) numbers and he was now patiently engaging in discussion with her about how to balance the accounts from now on. 
“In summary... sir,” Ashe said. 
Other than her pointed ears, horns, brown skin, and slightly demonic features, she looked like an ordinary girl in her twenties, with ample curves held rigidly in place beneath a rather ordinary suit. Seiya had heard that she came from a magical realm besides Maple Land, but that was all he knew about her—that, and the fact that she’d nearly killed Tiramii after he sexually harassed her (in an incident that convinced even that incorrigible mascot to finally lay off). 
He also knew that she’d been in charge of AmaBri’s accounts for many years. The fact that the place had remained afloat all this time made it clear that she was one of the park’s secret heroes. 
“The 30 yen campaign last month was a bad blow,” she continued. “We managed to get past the attendance issue, but our budget is in bad shape. If nothing changes, we’re going to start having trouble with our cash flow.” 
“Well... that figures,” Seiya murmured blackly. 
“We’re on the verge of bouncing checks,” she admitted. “The only way to survive would be to free up funding with major lay-offs.” 
“Not possible,” Seiya sighed. “We’re short-handed as it is. Could we get Maple Bank to bail us out?” 
Maple Bank was the bank of the magical realm of Maple Land. It was one of the organizations in favor of keeping the park open—naturally enough, since the survival of their princess, Latifah, depended on the park’s continued existence... 
“No, they can’t,” Ashe sighed. 
“Why not?” 
“The effects of Japan’s monetary easing strategy, politically motivated personnel reforms in the Maple Land court, the American Federal Reserve’s new policies clamping down on magical realm banks... it’s quite complicated, shall I continue?” 
“No, you’ll bore the readers.” 
“Very well. The point is, we can’t ask the bank.” 
“Okay.” Seiya took her at her word. “Anyway, try to get us through this month, at least. I’m cooking up a last resort method for raising funds.” 
“Are you going to rob a bank this time?” she inquired. 
Seiya shot Ashe a sharp glance at that. She’s a smart person, he realized. She must have figured out what caused that fire at Kajinomoto Stadium last month; the fact that she’d said “this time” is evidence of that. 
“I don’t mean this as a criticism,” she said, as if choosing her words carefully. “I want to keep this park in business as much as you do. But I don’t want you to do anything too reckless.” 
“...I appreciate the sentiment,” Seiya said at last, “but I can’t make any promises. Though bank robbery is off the table, at least.” 
“I’m glad to hear it,” Ashe told him. 
Just then, the phone on his desk rang. Seiya picked it up; it was their head of security, Okuro. “What’s wrong?” Seiya asked. 
“Oh, Kanie-san,” said Okuro. “Er, the truth is, well... in the No. 2 Building just now, Sento-san, Macaron-san, and Tiramii-san got into a huge fight...” 
“The three of them?” 
“Well, it’s more that Macaron and Tiramii are running in terror while Sento-san tries to kill them,” Okuro admitted. “Do you think you could come put a stop to it?”

Seiya ran to the No. 2 Building, but the chaos was all wrapped up by the time he arrived. 
Macaron and Tiramii were dead. 
Well, they weren’t actually dead, but they looked close enough to it: Macaron was motionless, radial fractures emanating out from the place where his head had gone through the mirror. Tiramii lay prone on the ground, having written “the killer was a titty monster” in blood on the floor beside him. 
Isuzu stood at the center of the practice area, shoulders heaving, and breathing raggedly. The hired dancers were huddled in a corner of the room, trembling. 
“...I thought you were practicing for the parade,” Seiya said accusingly. “Where’s Moffle?” 
“I don’t rightly know. I’m told he noticed the commotion and tried to stop it, but... ah, I see him. Over there,” security chief Okuro said, as he glanced out a broken window. Moffle was dangling from a branch of one of the cherry trees outside, and appeared to be unconscious. 

“...... So, what happened here?” Seiya asked, knowing full well that the three of them must have been teasing Isuzu again. 
“Payback...” came Isuzu’s immediate response. “They fed me a druth nut, and they were plotting to ask me vulgar questions...” 
“Vulgar questions?” he inquired. 
“Like how many times a week I jaster—hmmmmmmmgh!!” Isuzu clamped her mouth shut and pinched her nose. She looked like she was trying to pop her ears. 
“Sento...?” Seiya looked concerned. 
“I-I’m fine...” she heaved. “I went to school today. Though it seemed pointless at first to go without you, I decided that I should at least earn some attendance days. And I felt awkward about seeing you after the strange dream that I—hmmmmmmmgh!” 
“......? Look, whatever. I’m just glad the mess was kept backstage,” Seiya told her. “It would be a disaster if the guests had seen it. Now, wake up those idiots, then head for the administration building. Interviews start at 1:00 pm.” 
“I-Interviews?!” Isuzu went ramrod straight, her eyes wide. 
“What, do you have a problem with that?” 
“Yes, I do have a problem with that,” Isuzu blurted out. “I’m spilling out everything on my mind, right now. I don’t know what I might say during an interview. I might disclose the park’s money troubles, or its horrible working conditions, or any number of other things that would discourage the applicants. And then there’s the strange feelings I seem to have developed for—hmmmmmmgh!” She trailed off into a strange moaning noise as she covered her nose and mouth again with all her strength. 
“...Are you okay?” Seiya asked, after a while. 
“No, I am not okay,” Isuzu managed to say. “I need sick leave. I need to go home and go to bed. I’m going to end up causing trouble for you if I don’t. Not as the mortal chosen by the revelation, but as someone that I—hmmmmmmgh!” 
“What the hell is that ‘hmmgh’ thing you keep doing?” he wanted to know. 
“I’m telling you, the druth nut—hmmmmgh!!” 
This is nonsense, Seiya thought. Deciding it must be some form of hay fever, he turned, then started to walk away. “I’m not going to give you sick leave for a little backstage tantrum. Don’t be late, all right?” 
“But you must let me take leave—” Isuzu protested. 
“No,” he said firmly. “Besides, you’re the one who screened the applicants. We can’t do the interviews without you.” 
“But—” 
“Enough! You have to be there! If you try to skip out, you’re fired!” he fumed. “Fired!” Seiya strode swiftly out the door.

Even during brief breaks like these, Seiya was constantly monitoring the state of the park: Last week, he’d routed the feed from the security cameras to display on his laptop via LAN. The security center crew were unanimously technologically illiterate, so Seiya had had to handle the access settings and such himself. He had been hoping to find a way to access the cameras from anywhere—as in, at school and from home—but his attempts kept resulting in strange errors he couldn’t fix, and after realizing he couldn’t guarantee security on his smartphone browser, he eventually gave it up. Seiya wished he could have just one engineer to handle basic tasks like these, but of course, they didn’t have the funds to hire one. 
It was a weekday, so the cameras showed a nearly deserted park. This was understandable, of course—every amusement park in Japan faced a slump at this time in April—but the cast all seemed to be slacking off, too. He had to do something about this quickly. Within the next few days, if possible...

“I guess reaching out to those senior organizations was a good choice,” Seiya muttered to Moffle after lunch was over. They’d run into each other in the hall at the administration building, and had started up a conversation. 
“Moffu. Well... I can’t say you’re wrong, fumo.” 
Although he’d been knocked out during the brawl earlier, Moffle’s wounds seemed to be minor. He’d rested up in the health center for thirty minutes. Then, after eating some snack croquettes (his favorite food), he had risen like the Phoenix and hurried to the administration building to serve on the interview panel. 
“It’s true that a lot of our guests lately have been old-timers, fumo,” Moffle admitted in an unhappy whisper. 
During this period—right after the new school term started but before Golden Week began—students and professionals were mainly focused on adjusting to their new schedules. Not many of them were able to go out with friends and family, especially if it meant rocking the boat by taking a weekday off to play around. Therefore, the most likely weekday customers for this time of year were people who didn’t like waiting in line. (Incidentally, you can even get into a certain whip-wielding archaeologist’s attraction with less than a five-minute wait during this period—although some say this hasn’t been the case lately, so be careful.) 
Because of this, Seiya had decided to go after seniors; the people most unfettered by the shackles of the new fiscal year. 
Last month—right after he’d decided to stay on as acting manager, following the events of March—Seiya had started pushing their services to senior organizations and old folks’ homes. He gave out coupons, established group discounts, and had the snack corners prepare mild rice ball flavors, miso soup, warabimochi and houjicha. 
As a result, AmaBri was maintaining higher numbers than it usually did during the April dry spell, though it was coming nowhere near the numbers they had achieved during their 30 yen campaign in March. 
“Seniors are still guests,” Seiya said adamantly. “Stop grumbling and be grateful.” 
“I know I should, fumo,” Moffle admitted. “But, it’s just... it’s so hard to have a conversation with them.” 
“Yeah...” Seiya could certainly sympathize there. 
Last year, during summer vacation, he had taken a solo trip to Gunma to do some wandering. At a bus station in an obscure hot springs town, he’d gotten into a conversation with an old woman that had gone absolutely nowhere. He’d say “I came here from Tokyo,” and she’d say “My, that’s a fine profession.” He’d say “I hear this village is going to be submerged when they build the dam,” and she’d say, shyly, “Oh, you flirt...” They were just talking over each other. Why was it so hard for the young and the old to reach an understanding? 
“It’d be one thing if it was just a communication issue. They also complain a lot, fumo. They stumble once at an attraction, and it’s all ‘I nearly died; you’ll pay for this.’ We’ve had a few lawsuits filed over minor sprains, fumo.” 
“Hmm...” Seiya pondered the conundrum. 
“Then, there are the old perverts who see Muse dancing around in that costume of hers, tell her to come over and start putting the moves on her, fumo. They throw their cigarette butts on the ground; they cut in line. The elderly these days are out of control, fumo.” 
“Oh, really?” Seiya was intrigued despite himself. 
“Now, there are decent seniors out there too, fumo. But I tell you from experience: old people these days are up to no good. Particularly those baby boomers—” 
“All right, that’s enough. Stop now.” Seiya waved his hand, stopping Moffle before he could say anything too controversial. 
“All right, fumo. ...So? What department are we interviewing for today?” 
“All of them.” 
“Moffu?” 
“I put out want ads for each sector, but I got fewer applicants than I was hoping for,” Seiya explained. “So while I’d planned to do interviews over three days... we only got enough to fill one day.” 
“That’s disappointing, fumo.” 
“C’mon, don’t let that be what gets you down,” Seiya said. “We’ll keep the want ads up through next week, too.” 
The interviews were to be held in the 3rd conference room on the third floor of the administration building. Seiya and Moffle took their seats facing away from the window, then spread out the copies of resumes that Isuzu had sent them. Isuzu entered a bit later; she was wearing a a plain dark gray suit jacket with a tight skirt. 
“You’re late, Sento,” said Seiya. 
“I took a shower and changed my clothes. I decided that I should wear something secretarial, and I wasted ten minutes debating what that should be. More specifically, I was uncertain as to whether I should wear pants, or whether I should show off my legs with a tight miniskirt. I decided to go with the miniskirt; not for the applicants, but to invite your—hmmmmmgh!!!” Isuzu clamped a hand over her mouth and pitched forward. 
“Again with the ‘hmmgh,’” he observed. “Seriously, what’s with you today?” 
“K-Kanie-kun. Are you actually going to play out the obtuse love interest character tro—hmmmmgh!!” 
“...? Ah, forget it. Do whatever you want.” Seiya looked at his watch, then clapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s get started. Call in the first applicant.” 
A waiting member of the general affairs department cast nodded and left the conference room. 
Seiya, Moffle, and Isuzu—two high school students and one mascot—were the ones running the interviews. It made for an odd-looking panel, but they didn’t have much of a choice. They really were the park’s most central figures. 
“That reminds me...” Seiya began. “Moffle?” 
“Yeah?” the mascot replied. 
“Where’s that Lalapatch thing of yours?” 
“Ah... I forgot it, fumo.” 
“Hey!” 
“I left it in my locker, fumo. Should I go and get it?” 
The Lalapatch Charm was a mysterious magic item issued to the employees of AmaBri. It was a silver talisman about the size of a 500 yen coin, inscribed with the bust of a goddess. When residents of magical realms wore it, those around them would perceive them as ordinary mortals. As incredible as that was, it wasn’t actually a rare, difficult-to-find artifact; it was a basic consumer good, regularly sold at magical realm department stores. The cheapest of them cost the equivalent of about 980 yen, but these were manufactured in Chinese magical realms (whatever that meant) and had a tendency to explode from time to time. They were advised not to use those. 
“We’re supposed to be running interviews,” Seiya said exasperatedly. “How are they going to take us seriously when we’re two high schoolers and a weird guy in a costume?” 
“Ah, well, I wouldn’t worry, fumo. They’ll get used to it.” 
“Hmm, I suppose, but...” 
“We don’t have time, anyway. Let’s just get going, fumo.” 
“I hope this will be all right...” Seiya worried. 
While they were still talking, the conference room door opened; the person who entered was a college student with an easygoing air around her. 
“Thank you very much for having me.” The woman gave a well-mannered bow, then sat down in the folding chair as directed. 
She had long hair and eyes that drooped slightly at the corners, Seiya observed. She was wearing a rather ill-fitting suit that she probably hadn’t worn often; she had chosen a jacket one size too big to cover her ample bust, which resulted in odd wrinkles around her waist and arms. 
She didn’t appear to be nervous, and had a pleasantly subdued smile. Plus two points, Seiya thought. 
She didn’t seem particularly perturbed that one of her interviewers was a plush costumed creature, either. Completely unflappable? Plus one point, he decided again. 
Moffle folded his arms and reclined. Isuzu was looking at the floor for some reason and blinking rapidly, as if she’d received some great shock. Seiya heard her whisper something like “Is my dream coming true?” but he didn’t know what she was talking about, so he just let it go. 
“So, ah... Adachi Eiko-san,” Seiya said, looking back over her resume. It seemed he was the one who would be handling most of the questioning. “Thank you for applying to be part of our cast.” 
“Oh, not at all,” she replied. “I’m the one who’s grateful.” 
After this slightly silly exchange, Seiya looked at how she’d filled in her preferred departments. “So... your first choice was attraction cast, I see, and your second choice was entrance cast. Those are both important posts with a lot of guest interactions. Have you done work like this before?” 
“Yes,” she affirmed. “I was with a talent agency until just last month.” 
“Oh? And what agency would that be?” 
“I’m sure you haven’t heard of them... they’re called Quattro Productions,” Eiko explained. 
She was right; he hadn’t heard of them. Of course, there were hundreds of talent agencies out there; it was probably some kind of escort or model service. The agency had either failed to find her good jobs, or she wasn’t getting enough requests and they didn’t renew her contract. Either way, she’d gone back to being an ordinary person. It was a common enough situation. 
Although if she was feeling touchy about it, there was a chance she might get into fights with her co-workers. Minus one point, Seiya decided. 
“Er, well, it sounds like you haven’t heard of them,” Eiko-san said with a giggle. It didn’t sound like a self-deprecating laugh; she just seemed to be trying to smooth things over after perceiving that he wasn’t sure how to respond. She was solicitous, then. Another plus two points, he thought, bumping up her score. 
“Ah, forgive me. I’m not well educated in that field,” Seiya apologized. “Just what kind of agency are they? Modeling, escorts...” 
“Ah. They produce videos, actually,” Eiko told him. 
“Oh?” he asked. “Videos, eh? What kind?” 
With a mild-mannered smile, she responded: “They were AVs.” 
“............what?” 
“............er?” 
“............fumo?” 
“AVs,” Eiko said again. 
There was a prolonged silence. All three interviewers scooted back simultaneously, their chairs clattering from the force. Eiko-san remained as serene as ever. 
“Um...” Seiya stuttered. “Th-th-that is an... i-i-impressive l-line of work... r-r-really... impressive...” 
“Thank you,” Eiko said with a beaming smile. 
“W-W-Well... er...” he floundered, “J-j-just to be sure, y-you did say... AVs?” 
“Yes,” she affirmed. “I made about ten of them.” 
“T-Ten?!” Despite his long history as an actor, Seiya couldn’t keep his mouth from gaping, nor his voice from cracking. What? he thought incredulously. Is she serious? 
AVs? Not “advanced vehicles,” right? This sweet young lady, with her mysterious aura that makes even me feel warm and fuzzy inside? This prim and polished “big sister next door” type that every man has fantasized about at least once in his life? No way, thought Seiya. 
A woman like her. Making those kinds of videos? 
Impossible, he told himself. It just can’t be. What is wrong with this universe?! Seiya could feel his worldview crumbling to pieces around him. 
Isuzu had frozen up, her eyes wide as saucers, while Moffle poked Seiya in the side with his paw and hissed in a low whisper: “Seiya... Seiya!” 
“Wh-What?” Seiya whispered back. 
“Ask her stage name, fumo. I’m curious, fumo.” 
“I can’t ask her that!” Seiya responded in a strangled voice. He then returned to his senses and gave Eiko-san a stiff smile. “Y-Yes, um... forgive me. Th-That is quite a-an unusual history... it c-c-caught me a little bit off g-guard...” 
“I see,” she said apologetically. “I hear that quite often...” This time, there was a faint sorrow in her smile. That expression was trouble; there was something vaguely erotic about the vulnerability it projected. It inspired a faint desire to protect her, and then to ask for various things in exchange. “Oh, but don’t worry... I’m used to it.” 
“Th-Thank you,” Seiya replied. 
Then he heard Moffle whisper in his ear again: “Seiya.” 
“Wh-What?!” 
“Get a grip, fumo. You’re the interviewer. Don’t thank her, fumo!” 
“B-But...” Seiya tried to defend himself. 
“You need to push her on this, fumo,” Moffle advised him urgently. “Get her name and debut work already, fumo!” 
“You shut up!” Even so, Seiya didn’t know what to ask her next; anything that he needed to know for work could easily be interpreted as sexual harassment. For instance... 
Example one: 
“So you’re in college right now, right?” 
 “And what do your classmates think of you, eh? I bet they’re always undressing you with their eyes... Heh heh heh...” 
Example two: 
“Your wage starts at 750 yen while you’re training, is that all right?” 
 “I know it sounds low, but I bet you could earn a few bonuses here and there... Heh heh heh...” 
Example three: 
“Do you enjoy riding horses?” 
 “Yeah, baby. I bet you like to ‘ride,’ don’t you? I’m a stallion myself. Want to go on a run some time? Heh heh heh.” 
Dammit! he thought. I’m completely locked down! A single bead of sweat trailed down Seiya’s temple. 
Eiko-san continued to wait, calmly, for his next question. Time passed in awkward silence. 
What should I do? I—I know, I’ll let Sento Isuzu handle it, Seiya decided. She’s a woman, she’s always composed, and she’ll ask all the right questions in defiance of the stupid men around her. He turned to look over at Isuzu. 
“............” Her face was pale, her hand clamped over her mouth, her shoulders trembling. 
“S-Sento?” he began cautiously. 
“...hmmmmgh!” She looked up, removed her hand, opened her mouth wide as if to speak... then shut her eyes tightly, grabbed Seiya’s ear, and dragged him roughly toward her. 
“Ow!” he objected. “Hey, what are you—” 
Her lips were close enough to bite his earlobe, and he could feel her breath on his neck as she whispered to him, urgently: “Kanie-kun. Do not ask me for aid. I’m struggling more than you are right now, for the following three reasons: One, she looks exactly like an applicant I saw in my dream this morning. Two, you seem surprisingly fond of her. Three, when she brought up her history, you were shaken more badly than I’ve ever seen you before!” 
“Wh-What?” he whispered back. 
“I’d rather not say any more than that, but I still seem to be under the influence of the druth nut, so it appears that I’ll have to. I thought of you as a competent man who wasn’t easily shaken, and seeing you go weak in the knees over a large-breasted older sister type with all of the social graces and life experience that I lack on top of a superdreadnought-class sexual history makes me indescribably angry. Yes, I said angry. You’re going to take her as your secretary while I—” She suddenly pinched her nose shut and moaned again. “Hmmmmmmmgh!!” 
“S-Sento?” Seiya was shocked again. 
She was panting heavily, elbows planted on the long table and head drooping while they all looked on in concern. “Why not ask... why she’s applying?” she whispered at last in an exhausted voice. 
“Y-Yeah... Yeah, good idea.” 
Yes, ask why she’s applying, Seiya told himself. That couldn’t possibly come off as sexual harassment. 
“Moffu. Ask her stage name already!” 
“Shut up!” Seiya cleared his throat loudly, then turned back to Eiko-san. “Ah... I’m sorry about that, Adachi Eiko-san.” 
“Of course,” she replied with unwavering calm. 
“I know that this has been a rather difficult experience,” Seiya apologized again, “but one last question... could I ask why you want to work at this park?” 
Yes, that was the one thing he couldn’t understand. Why would a woman with a history like hers, who could make gobs of money in the nightlife if she wanted, choose to work for this crummy amusement park? 
“Ah. Let me see...” Eiko-san seemed to consider the question. She put a finger to her shapely lip and looked up at the ceiling; there was something unbelievably seductive about this mannerism. 
What Is she thinking about? He wondered if he should use his magic. The magic he received from the princess of Maple Land, to read any person’s mind just once... 
No... This wasn’t the time, he decided. If they did hire her, and she started working with them, it would be better saved for a more auspicious time. Call it underhanded if you wish, but Kanie Seiya was not a man who wasted his grenades. 
“...ergh,” he whispered. Isuzu was staring in his direction with a scowl. Could she tell what he was thinking? No, no, she wasn’t that perceptive... 
Some time later, Eiko-san spoke again: “...I just don’t think my last job was for me. I certainly enjoyed it, of course, but I wanted to see the smiles of the people I was entertaining. That’s why I applied here.” 
“Ah... hahh,” Seiya said uncertainly. 
“Is that not enough?” Eiko wanted to know. 
“Well, U-um...” He felt tears forming in his eyes, but he held them back. A woman who could give such an articulate answer... how, when, why? The world was growing more and more incomprehensible. The phrase “I enjoyed it, of course” was the most traumatic blow of all—it was that everyday fashion in which she said it. For some reason, it just made him feel even more miserable. Seriously, he asked himself, how is this possible? Dammit... 
Anyway, just calm down. 
Seiya took in a deep breath, and found it in him to say: “Thank you very much. We’ll tell you our decision soon.” 
After Eiko-san left the conference room, Moffle immediately lashed out at Seiya. “Why didn’t you ask for her stage name, fumo?! You’re the worst manager I’ve ever seen! I’m so disappointed! I despair for you wannabe ‘gentlemen’!” 
“I could not ask!” Seiya retorted. “And if you’re that disappointed, go hang yourself!” 
“Hah! Look at my body, fumo. You can’t kill me with hanging,” Moffle replied scornfully. “I’d just dangle there looking like a teru-teru bozu!” 
“Is that bragging or self-deprecation?” Seiya wanted to know. 
“Moffu...” Moffle ignored him, then took a snapshot of Adachi Eiko’s resume picture with his cell phone and sent it off somewhere, accompanied by a short message. 
“Could you not take pictures of her resume?” Seiya requested pointedly. “Where did you send it, anyway?” 
“To Tricen. I’m asking if he recognizes her, fumo. He knows a lot about AVs.” 
More things Seiya didn’t want to know. So that chibi-triceratops character knew a lot about AVs, did he? Disgusting. “Listen, you...” 
“Now I just wait for a response, fumo.” 
There was no way he’d be able to identify her from a tiny photo where she was facing the camera with no makeup on, though. After all, beautiful women all tended to look the same. 
As if reading Seiya’s thoughts, Isuzu glared at him again. “You’re not going to scold him, are you? You really want to know, don’t you? That’s disgusting.” 
“Hey!” Seiya objected. “What a rude thing to say.” 
“I’m not entirely angry, though,” she mused. “Knowing that you have interest in such things as well... If you like, I could show you my own—hmmmmmgh!!!” Isuzu clasped her hands over her face with all the force she could muster, then banged her forehead on the table. 
Seiya scooted back, disturbed by her behavior. “S-Sento?” 
“Don’t... worry...” Isuzu said weakly. 
She’s definitely acting strangely today, Seiya thought suspiciously. She was usually so calm and aloof—this was seeming less like a physical illness and more like an emotional breakdown. 
Just then, Moffle’s cell phone buzzed. “A reply from Tricen already, fumo. Hmm... Yes, I see... fumo, fumo...” Moffle peered at the LCD screen and nodded sharply. Then he let out a deep sigh and gazed into the distance. “...Well, call in the next one, fumo,” he declared as he put his cell phone away. 
“...Did he recognize her?” Seiya asked. 
“Recognize who?” Moffle asked innocently. 
“Well... Eiko-san.” 
“Yeah, he figured out her stage name, fumo. So?” 
“W-Well...” 
“He knows her label and her best-known works.” Moffle said appreciatively. “That Tricen, fumo. He’s always on the ball! Now, on to the next applicant.” As Moffle flipped to the next applicant’s resume, Seiya caught the corners of his mouth curling upwards. 
That bastard. He knows and he isn’t going to tell me, Seiya realized. He knows I can’t just come out and ask him! And what’s more, he moves right on to the next applicant! That mascot is utterly perverse! 
“The boys and I might stop by a rental shop tonight, get a little drunk and a little hot and bothered, fumo,” Moffle remarked to no one in particular. “Ahh, that’ll be fun. I can’t wait, fumo.” 
“Ngh...” Seiya groaned. 
“Want to know, fumo? Want to know, fumo?” 
“Guh... of course I don’t! Call in the next applicant!” Seiya commanded the general affairs employee, thrusting out his right hand like the captain of a certain space battleship. 
Just then, Isuzu said something unbelievable. “I want to know. Lord Moffle, tell m—hmmmmmmmgh!” 
“S-Sento?” Seiya was shocked. 
Moffle’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Oh-ho? Our royal guardsman expresses interest in the most unlikely things. I’d love to know why, fumo.” 
“O-Obviously, to see if hiring her would lead to complaints about our park... I mean, to learn the secrets of how she charms men so effortlessl—hmmmmmgh!” For the umpteenth time now, she pinched her nose and banged her head on the table. 
Maybe she really wasn’t feeling well? She had mentioned feeling ill during the chaos earlier... Seiya was starting to get really worried. “Hey... are you okay?” 

“I’m not okay at all.” Isuzu looked at him, her hand pressed against her injured forehead. There were tears in her eyes. “I haven’t felt like this since I was in kindergarten, needing to go to the bathroom but being unable to say it and desperately having to clamp down on my—hmmmgh!” 
Seiya was just starting to think he should call an ambulance when there was a knock at the door. 
“Excuse me! Sorry I’m late!” The second applicant came in. 
She was a girl of high school age, with short, chestnut brown hair and large, twinkling eyes. Her movements were brisk and energetic. 
Her face was flushed and she was panting hard as she strode up to the interviewers’ table. “I’m Bando Biino! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” 
She expressed herself with clarity and articulation. Plus two points for that, Seiya thought. 
Isuzu whispered something about a dream again, but Seiya ignored it. He’d decided it was best not to think too hard about anything she said today. 
Bando Biino was wearing a school uniform, a khaki cardigan over the old-fashioned sailor style. According to her resume, she was a first year in high school in the same city Seiya lived in. 
She was cheerful and cute, with nice curves, and an aura that guests would probably find charming. Plus one point. 
The main problem was— 
“Um... Bando Biino-san. Before we start, could I ask you a question?” 
“Absolutely!” 
“...What’s with the blood stain?” 
There was a bright red patch that extended from her left side down to her hip. Wait—that wasn’t a blood stain. It was the lustrous, sparkling color of fresh blood. It continued to soak, as he watched, further into the cloth of her cardigan. 
Minus 200 points. 
“Ooh, sorry! I was just in such a hurry...” Biino tried to cover her blood-stained side, bashfully. 
“Bashful” was an unexpected reaction... And what did being in a hurry have to do with it? 
“D-Did you hurt yourself?” 
“Ah! I’m fine, I’m fine! This is nothing, really!” Biino waved her hands hastily. Droplets of blood flew from her fingertips, speckling the conference room floor with ominous red. 
Seiya flinched, Isuzu knitted her brows, and Moffle tilted his head thoughtfully. 
“Er... are you sure you’re fine?” Seiya asked. 
It occurred to him that Biino wasn’t as animated as he’d initially thought. Her breathing was ragged, her legs were trembling a little, and she was growing paler and paler by the minute. 
Their last applicant, Eiko-san, had certainly made an impression—but Biino-san was blowing them away in a totally different sense. 
“If you wouldn’t mind... explaining how you got injured?” 
“O-Oh, no need! I don’t want to make... excuses... for why I’m late! Please... hahh... hahh... continue the interview!” 
It was a ridiculous time to start acting like the hero of a shonen manga. “I won’t make excuses” was an admirable attitude to have, but the active bleeding sort of took it out of that realm. 
He turned to Isuzu and whispered, “What do you think?” 
(I’m not sure. I think she’s trying to use the suspension bridge effect to make you care about h—hmmmmgh!) 
Then she went about her strange ritual again (details omitted for your convenience). 
Yeah, right, Seiya thought. Forget her. 
Then he whispered to Moffle, “What do you think?” 
(It looks to me like a stab wound. She’s probably lost about a liter of blood. Given her build, she’ll likely stay conscious and answering questions for about ten more minutes.) His comment was practical yet strangely unhelpful. 
“L-Let’s call you an ambulance...” 
“No, don’t!” Biino insisted. “I don’t want to cause trouble over a silly little wound. My... my... My life is riding on this interview!” 
Oh, for the love of... How could her life possibly be riding on this crummy amusement park? 
(She’s certainly got passion, fumo. You don’t think it’s... kagebara?) Moffle whispered with a tremble. 
Kagebara was an act through which a samurai would admonish his lord by slitting his own stomach, requesting an audience, and then dying in front of his eyes. 
It wasn’t something you’d do at a part-time job interview. Even if you got the job, you’d be dead. 
(I’m sure... it’s not kagebara.) 
(Well, I suppose not... Hmm?) Just then, an incoming call sound chimed out from Moffle’s smartphone, which he’d left on the desk. (It’s from the security center, fumo. Hold on a minute.) 
He thrust out a paw to silence Seiya, then started engaging in a quiet conversation. Meanwhile, Biino was leaning over and pleading with Seiya. 
“Please. Please... ngh... the interview... Blugh...” Fresh blood trailed from a corner of her pretty lips. 
(Looks like she’s got some internal bleeding, fumo. Better hurry,) Moffle said, briefly interrupting his phone call to warn him. 
(H-Hurry?!) 
“Hurry! A-Ask me a question... please! While I’m still conscious!” 
“R-Right...” Cowed by the demonic frenzy in Biino-san’s eyes, Seiya found himself complying. He whispered to Isuzu, “call an ambulance,” then began an entirely cursory interview. 
“So, um... for your preferred working times, y-you said after 4:00 p.m. on weekdays, right? You’d mainly be working closing shifts—” 
“Blugh!” 
“Um?” 
“Blugh... khlugh... I c-can work... after 4:00!” she confirmed through the blood-stained fingers she held over her mouth. 
“I g-guess I should hurry. The jobs you applied for... guest control and merchandising. Why did you want those positions?” 
Guest control mainly meant directing and guiding guests, while merchandising meant working in the shops. These were both jobs with a lot of human contact. 
“Yes... huff... huff... I want to see... hurgh... the customers... blugh! Smile...” Beads of sweat clung to her pale face as she bared her teeth desperately. 
A face like that wouldn’t bring a smile to anyone—except maybe her mortal enemies. 
“You also asked about the daycare. The trial period for that one is double the standard length... is that all right?” 
“O-Of course... I... hlugh... I love to see... hng... happy... guh... children!” 
Her expression was truly chilling. Her dedication was admirable, but seeing Biino’s face right now would make 100% of the children cry, no question. 
“U-Understood.” Even to prolong the conversation, he couldn’t think of anything to ask that would teach him more than he already knew. He really hoped the ambulance would arrive soon. 
“We’ll let you know in a few days if you get the job or not. For now, please get treatment!” 
“I-I can’t!” 
“Get treatment, dammit!” 
“I-I’m sorry... I still have so much more... cough! To tell you... blugh! About myself!” 
“Uh...” 
Biino grabbed her knees, trembling, shoulders heaving. It was then that Moffle finished his call with the security center and nudged Seiya in the shoulder. 
(What?) 
(According to security, there was a slasher incident at Amagi Station earlier. Some madman stabbed a high school girl in front of the station...) 
(What the hell!) 
(The attacker’s apparently been taken into custody, but the girl he stabbed just said ‘I’m fine’ repeatedly, then rode off on her moped, fumo.) 
(I... I see...) 
(It’s apparently on the news right now, fumo. That’s why security got worried and called me...) 
Ah, that explains it all. 
Seiya could admire the bravery it took to race to an interview, even after getting attacked by a slasher. Plus one point. But she could have had a bit more consideration about the position she was putting them in. Minus 100 points. 
At any rate, for now, they just had to deal with the strange situation they had found themselves in. 
“Um... Bando Biino-san. We understand that you’re passionate about the job. W-We can’t guarantee we’ll hire you, but you can be optimistic about your chances.” 
“Th-Thank... hnn... you... gluh!” 
“So, please go with the ambulance right now. Forgive our presumption, but we’ve already called 119. Come on. Don’t push yourself too hard. Ah... don’t look at me with those hollow eyes, it’s going to haunt my nightmares. Oh, come on...” 
Unable to just keep talking to her from the interviewer’s table, Seiya stood up. He barely managed to catch Biino as she pitched out of the folding chair. 
“Sorry... sorry...” Biina repeated from within Seiya’s bloodstained arms. 
“Is that ambulance here yet? Let’s carry her outside. Hey, Moffle, get off the phone and help me!” he yelled at Moffle, who was talking on his smartphone once more. 
“Wait, fumo. I got another call from the security center...” 
“Oh, come on!” 
“I didn’t... hrr... want... to be late...” 
“Yes, that’s very n-noble of you...” 
“But I need to apologize... for one more thing...” 
Just then, the conference room door banged open. 
The person who came in was a half-naked man carrying a kitchen knife. 
“Huh? What?” 
“Whew... whew...” 
He was breathing heavily. His knife was smeared in blood. He was wearing nothing but underwear and a stocking that covered his face. He was, to put it lightly, a pervert—and not the subtle kind of pervert. 
Was this their next applicant? No, surely no one would come to an interview dressed like this... What the hell— 
“Seiya, Seiya.” 
“Wh-What?” 
“I got an update from the security center. The earlier report got it wrong. The man who stabbed her hasn’t been caught yet, fumo.” 
“Wh-What?” 
“Also, a suspicious person just broke through the employee gate, fumo. Well actually, the guard was too afraid to try to stop him...” 
Seiya looked at Biino-san. She nodded weakly. “I’m sorry... He’s my big brother...” 
“B-Big brother?” 
“He doesn’t... want me to have a job, so...” 
And that’s why he stabbed her? That makes no sense, Seiya thought. And... is he glaring at me from behind that stocking? Is he registering me as an enemy for holding his little sister? 
“Whew... whew...” His shoulders heaving, the half-naked man took a step forward. 
“Um, okay, calm down. Calm down, please. Would you please calm down?” Seiya urged. 
“Whew... whew...” The half-naked man raised his knife. 
“Ah, um, are you going to stab me, then? Stab me? I’d warn against it. It would be a loss for humanity... also I’m quite good in a fight, you know. Well, I’ve never been in a serious brawl, but I’m a natural at everything I try. ...I’m very strong. I think I’m strong. I might be strong. Well, you might want to get ready...” 
“Are you quoting Sada Masashi lyrics? You must be confident, fumo.” 
“Shut up! He’s coming!” 
“Wheeeew!” The man charged forward, brandishing the kitchen knife. He was aiming for Seiya. 
“Woah, woah, woah!” With Biino cradled in one arm, he wielded the folding chair like a shield with the other. 
A second later, he felt a powerful impact. 
The knife had gone through the back of the folding chair—a few centimeters to one side and it would have pierced his neck. 
“Why, you...” Seiya twisted the chair and kicked the man off. The man staggered back a few steps, forced to release the knife that was stuck deep in the chair. 
“Would you do something already?!” 
Responding to Seiya’s scream, Isuzu pulled out her musket and fired four “Pain of Stubbing Your Little Toe on the Dresser” bullets into him. As the madman doubled over in pain, Moffle swiftly covered the distance between them. A powerful one-two punch followed by a hard uppercut followed. 
“Whew...” The man flew so high he almost hit the ceiling, then landed in a heap on the floor below. By that time, Moffle had already turned his back on the man and was wiping his paws with a handkerchief. 
The man in his underwear was lying perfectly still. 
“Moffu... he’ll be eating through a straw for a while, fumo.” It was a line on every man’s “top 100 lines I’d like to say some day” list, and Moffle said it with the utmost cool. 
“You know... watching you two, I sometimes think you should quit this crummy amusement park and start working for a military contractor or something...” Seiya sighed.

Ambulances and police cars arrived, throwing the office into chaos for some time. 
An Amagi Police Department detective grilled them; they made a plausible show of innocence, and by the time things had calmed down, it was around 8:00 p.m. The park had closed for the day. 
“How could this have happened?” Seiya asked as he mopped up the darkened bloodstain that Bando Biino had left on the floor. “We were supposed to be interviewing part-timers today. Instead, we get one former AV actress—who made quite an impact, herself—followed by a girl who nearly gets us accused of battery! It’s ridiculous...” 
“That’s right, fumo. We were the victims here,” Moffle whispered. He was likewise busily scrubbing at a bloodstain on the wall. “That policeman tried to get me to admit to killing intent, fumo. I repeatedly said it was self-defense!” 
“I can see why he’d assume excessive self-defense, seeing as you broke the man’s jaw... I think he really will be drinking through a straw for a while.” 
“Hm. Well, perhaps I could’ve held back a little more, fumo.” 
“You’re ridiculously strong,” Seiya accused. “Show a little remorse.” 
“Moffu...” 
According to the detective, the man in his underwear really was Biino’s brother. Seiya didn’t know what mental illness he had, but apparently he was extremely restrictive of Biino’s lifestyle, among other things. He’d caused countless incidents in the past, with this being the final escalation. It wasn’t appropriate to laugh about it, but at the same time, what could you do but laugh? 
“Now, that Biino girl. What do you think’ll happen to her, fumo?” 
“How should I know?” Seiya retorted. “I hope I never have to hear about it.” 
“She sure did have passion, though.” 
“What, are you saying you want to hire her?” 
“Now, I didn’t say that, fumo.” Feigning innocence, Moffle continued cleaning. 
“...... Sento, what do you think?” Seiya asked Isuzu, who had just come back with a bucket of water. 
“Do you mean, about whether we should hire her or not?” She was doing less of the “Hmmmgh!” thing now, but there was still caution in her tone. She was keeping a hand near her mouth at all times. 
Isuzu’s repeated “Hmmmgh!” during the police questioning had complicated matters, though they’d managed to write it off with “she goes into a panic at the sight of blood.” 
“Yeah,” Seiya confirmed. “You’re the one who did the screenings, right? I want to hear your opinion.” 
“I see...” Isuzu thought for a moment. “...General wisdom would be that she’s unhireable. On the other hand, she could be an asset in terms of dealing with onstage trouble. After all... despite being stabbed, she was able to maintain her smile and her sense of duty. With proper training, her passion could make her a powerful positive force for our park.” 
“Hmm...” At last, Seiya thought, she’s making sense. Isuzu’s personal analyses and character judgments were always on point at times like these. 
“Besides, after such an off-putting incident, I’m sure you won’t be attracted to h—hmmmgh!” 
For heaven’s sake, not again. Seiya exchanged a glance and a shrug with Moffle. 
“...It seems I’m still suffering aftereffects of that nut,” Isuzu admitted. “You probably shouldn’t make me talk...” 
“Nut?” Seiya inquired. 
Moffle clapped his paws together and nodded. “Ah... I see now, fumo. They fed you a druth nut, did they? And that’s why you tried to kill Macaron and Tiramii this afternoon, fumo?” 
“Yes,” said Isuzu. 
“Well, it was just an innocent prank. Try to forgive them, fumo.” 
“No,” she disagreed, “it was a malicious prank. I will not forgive them.” 
Seiya wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed that Isuzu’s strange behavior today had been caused by this ‘nut’ that Moffle had mentioned. “What’s this nut you’re talking about? Does it make you interrupt yourself and shout ‘Hmmmgh!’ in the middle of sentences?” he asked. 
But Moffle and Isuzu just looked away, as if unsure about how to explain. 
“Erm... It wouldn’t be my place to say, fumo.” 
“It’s effectively like spiking someone’s drink,” said Isuzu. “You shouldn’t worry about it.” 
They didn’t seem to want to explain it. So, deciding that it would be a waste of time to press further, Seiya returned to the original topic: “Well, fine, whatever. ...I see what you’re saying about Banda Biino. What about our first subject, Adachi Eiko-san? What do you think of her?” 
“Why did you call her Eiko-san?” Isuzu demanded. 
“Geh...” coughed Seiya. 
“Well, anyway... I don’t think there’s any risk of her history hurting the park’s image,” Isuzu allowed. “There isn’t much crossover between the kinds of people who would know about her and our customer base. And... a girl with a history like hers should be able to face any guest with a smile. She could also be a strong positive force in the park.” 
“Hmm... all fair points,” said Seiya. 
“However,” Isuzu warned him, “both are also potential sources of trouble. A woman with Adachi Eiko’s history could cause friction in the workplace. And Bando Biino doesn’t seem to have a very stable home life, so even if today’s incident was mitigated, there’s a real chance of her bringing trouble into the park in the future.” 
After hearing her out, Seiya and Moffle both let out an impressed hum. 
“What are you humming about?” Isuzu asked suspiciously. 
“Well... I was just surprised that you said something so reasonable,” said Seiya. 
“Moffu,” Moffle agreed. “How can someone so good at reading people be so bad at communication that she has to express herself with a gun, fumo?” 
“It’s inconsistent with the time you scouted me, too,” Seiya noted. “Is it some sort of psychological disorder?” 
Their insensitive comments prompted a dangerous glare from Isuzu, and as usual, she started reaching down to pull her musket from the mysterious space under her skirt. “If that’s mockery, I’ll make you regret it...” 
“Look? See? That’s what I mean!” 
“People hate violent women nowadays, fumokay?!” 
Seiya and Moffle protested while hiding behind the mop and the desk respectively. 
“Ghh...” Isuzu’s reaction suggested that the use of the gun was reflexive, and she moved her hand away without drawing it. 
“...For heaven’s sake. Today’s taken it out of me, fumo,” Moffle sighed. “I’m going to check in on my House of Sweets, then go home. Once you decide the schedule for tomorrow’s interviews, shoot me an email, fumo.” 
All of the commotion around Biino-san had forced them to cancel the remaining interviews. The rest of the applicants would be seen tomorrow, and so on. After Moffle left, Seiya and Isuzu stayed behind, silently finishing up the cleaning. 
About two minutes later, someone peeked into the conference room. “E-Excuse me...” 
“...?” Both of them looked up. 
“Is this where the interviews are being held?” the stranger asked. She was a girl around elementary school age with her hair in pigtails and big, round eyes. Her clothes were rather fashionable, but she wouldn’t be out of place wearing a randoseru-style backpack, either. 

“Who are you?” Seiya wanted to know. 
“Chujo Shiina. I applied for the part-time job... but I was late to my interview...” the girl said haltingly. 
“We had an incident; interviews are delayed until tomorrow. We can’t hire you, though.” 
“Wh-What?! Why not?” 
“Child labor laws,” he explained. “You’re too young.” 
“B-But I...” 
“The exit is that way. Thanks for stopping by,” Seiya declared flippantly. Chujo Shiina left, her shoulders slumped. 
“My dream came true again... but not exactly. What on earth is going on, here?” Isuzu muttered to herself. 
“What are you talking about?” Seiya asked. “...And why was there a child coming to an interview? You’re the one who screened the applicants, right?” 
“Screened the applicants... that’s right, I did.” Isuzu clapped her hands together in realization. “Why didn’t I realize it earlier? I had that dream because I’d looked through everybody’s resumes. The memory worked its way into my subconscious, and that’s why I had that dre—hmmmgh!” 
“The ‘hmmmgh!’ again, huh?” he commented. “Give it a rest already...” 
“Hahh... hahh... I’m sorry...” Isuzu said, shoulders heaving. “But that wasn’t a mistake in the screening. She is in high school. She looks like a child, but she goes to Amagi High, just as we do. She’s a first year.” 
“What? Ugh...” Seiya popped his head out into the hallway, but she was already gone. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?!” 
“I wanted to... but I was afraid I might run my mouth again.” 
“For heaven’s sake... we’ll have to send her an apology email later,” Seiya grumped. 
“I doubt she’ll apply again after how you treated her.” 
“Yeah, but it’s the decent thing to do.” 
Isuzu was stunned by how sincere he sounded. “...I see.” 
They finished cleaning the conference room not long after. They put away the cleaning tools, then headed for their offices, which were in the same building, to get ready to go home. 
They were just about to leave with their bags in hand when Isuzu spoke up abruptly. “Kanie-kun.” 
“Hmm?” 
“You were right about what you said.” 
It came so out of nowhere that Seiya didn’t know what she was talking about. “What I said about what?” 
“What you and Moffle said earlier... that I have a good eye for people, but that I have trouble communicating,” Isuzu admitted stiffly. 
“Ahh...” 
She continued speaking as they walked down the unoccupied hallway. “I don’t entirely understand it myself. When I’m working for someone, analyzing others, I can keep a cool head. But when I’m in charge... I lose my objectivity. That’s why I’ve made so many mistakes. I really was on the verge of doing irreversible damage...” 
Seiya was reminded that, prior to his arrival, she had been the acting manager here. Isuzu had appeared to be working quite hard, but none of her efforts had been paying off. As a result, the park had been driven to the brink of closure. At the end of last year, they’d found themselves in the impossible position of needing to get 100,000 visitors to the park in two weeks. That’s when she’d invited Seiya in, and he’d accomplished his (fraudulent) miracle. The current acting manager had made extraordinary things happen, while the former acting manager had done nothing: and now, she had to serve as his secretary. He couldn’t imagine how frustrating that must be for her. 
Too bad he couldn’t use his magic to read her mind. “Reading people and interacting with them are completely different talents,” he told her. “You shouldn’t worry about it so much.” The statement was nothing especially profound; it was like telling a baseball player, ‘pitching and batting are completely different talents.’ 
But she fell silent, eyes wide... and after a few moments, she smiled. It was an expression he’d never seen from her before—as if she was about to cry from gratitude. “Kanie-kun. You truly are cruel,” she said. “It would be so much easier just to envy and hate you, but you won’t let me do that. I’ve been trying to tell myself that the difference in skill between us is a given, but that’s not how I really feel: I really do envy you. I just can’t accept that feeling because I—hmmmgh!” 
What on earth? Seiya thought exasperatedly. Back to the “hmmmgh” again? 
“Hey... get a grip already.” Seiya watched, dumbfounded, as Isuzu slammed her head against the hall window. “I guess that nut is still doing its thing...” 
Just as it seemed like she was speaking from the heart for once, this happened. There was no way he could take any of it seriously. But one thing it did tell him was that Sento Isuzu had a lot of internal conflict. 
Of course, it was understandable that someone so average would struggle in the face of a modern-day Renaissance man like himself... “Well, it’s natural that you’d be jealous of my talents,” he said immodestly. “It happens all the time, so don’t let it bother you; it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.” 
“Kanie-kun... that ‘looking down at you from my lofty perch’ attitude is quite cruel...” Isuzu murmured dejectedly. 
“How can I not look down on you?” he wanted to know. “I really am above you.” 
“Goddess Libra, bring misery upon this man...” Isuzu sighed, then returned her bag to her shoulder. 
They had a brief discussion about their upcoming schedules, then split up in the park’s underground passageway.

Isuzu headed for Maple Castle, at the center of the park, while Seiya headed for the employee gate. Seiya still had a fair amount of work to do, but most of it was sending emails, so he decided he’d do it after he got home. 
He passed through the gate into the bicycle lot. He’d been taking his bike to work lately, because the fact that he tended to work late into the night made catching buses inconvenient. Fortunately, he lived nearby, so even going at a leisurely pace, it didn’t take longer than 30 minutes. 
“Ah, Kanie-san. Good work today.” A member of the cast, heading for the bus stop, shot him a greeting. 
Seiya responded with a “hey,” and nothing more, then started off on his bicycle. It was nighttime in April, so it was still chilly out, and he zipped up his jacket with one hand as he pedaled along. 
He left the narrow employee-use side road for the main one, and cut through the verdant hills in the direction of central Amagi City. 
“Still, it really seems like...” Seiya whispered, his voice soft enough to be swallowed by the wind. 
He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t totally oblivious, either. He had a vague idea of what that “nut” Isuzu ate must have done. He had heard what she’d said each time before she stifled himself, and he remembered. And the pattern of things she avoided saying suggested— 
He couldn’t be sure, but— 
It was just a hypothesis, but— 
Is she attracted to me? 
He was hoping it was just his usual self-obsession, but... Some kind of strange nut had compelled Sento Isuzu—who normally never expressed herself in ways other than anger—to speak from the heart, and she was trying to restrain herself. That was why she had been acting that way. If nothing else, it was almost certain that she harbored some sort of feelings for him. 
The bigger issue was that the moment he realized this, he found his own heart racing a bit faster. He wished he could just say “goodness me, what a troublesome turn of events” and remain the cool, above-it-all person he’d always been. But he couldn’t. He was excited. He even rather liked the idea. 
Still, he could imagine several problems: 
Problem one: She and I are still (effectively) boss and employee. 
It’s not good for a boss to date an employee, he told himself. It’s like a club president dating the team assistant: Emotion clouds judgment, and the team’s trust dissolves. A manager (acting) having sexual tension with his secretary was out of the question. 
Problem two: What about Latifah? 
Well, it’s not as if she and I are in love or anything, he told himself guiltily. She did kiss me because of that ‘revelation’ of hers, and to be honest, out of all the women in my life so far, she’s probably the woman I’ve been most attracted to. Of course, she’s forgotten all of that, but that doesn’t mean my attraction to her is canceled out... It was a complicated relationship. 
Problem three: What if I’m just imagining it? 
I don’t think I am, but what if some fatal lapse in judgment has led me to a mistaken hypothesis? he mused. What if I have a slip of the tongue that makes it sound like I’m interested, and Isuzu says, “You seem to be under a misapprehension” or “Sorry, I find you very unattractive”? I could never recover. My pride would be eternally shattered. He would have to throw himself off Maple Castle and die—and he didn’t want to die. 
“Hmm...” 
The road was downhill from here. A truck passed beside him, stirring up a cold wind. 
Ahead was a four-way intersection. As the light turned yellow, he put on the brakes and stopped. A moment later, an enormous tanker truck tore across his vision, rumbling the ground below. It was going quite fast. If he hadn’t stopped at the yellow light, something terrible could have happened to him. 
Is this a sign of some kind? Seiya wondered, gripping the brake lever tightly. 
Okay, he decided. It was a yellow light. Yellow. Yellow meant caution. 
Just pretend you didn’t notice what went down today, he told himself. I’m just a boorish, oblivious male. I don’t know what that weird nut did. I won’t think any deeper about what Isuzu said. That should hold things off for a while. 
Having made up his mind, he felt a lot better. Normally he’d want to talk to someone and put his mind at ease, but he didn’t have anyone he could confide in about this: Kanie Seiya was an isolated man. 
Just then, he felt the smartphone tucked deep in his back pocket vibrate. He’d just received an email. “......!” 
It was probably spam, but regardless, he took out his phone and checked it. It was from Sento Isuzu. Seiya gasped, though not quite in panic— it was more like tension. 
He opened the email. “......Yeah, figures.” As he’d assumed, it was just about work: the interview schedules for tomorrow, and so on; her plans for dealing with Chujo Shiina, whom he’d turned away earlier; supplemental information about Adachi Eiko and Bando Biino. She explained it all in plain and unembellished terms. 
Understood. Talk to you later? he typed back briefly. 
The light turned green. He was racing down a two-lane one-way street when his phone vibrated again. He stopped his bike and checked his email: it was from Isuzu. 
Thank you for everything. I’m sorry about today.? A brief message. How was he supposed to interpret it? Seiya spent the rest of the night thinking it over, but he couldn’t reach a conclusion.

“Your Highness, royal guard Yisuzurch Sentolucia presents herself for audience.” Maple Castle, at the center of the park: Isuzu was kneeling on the flagstones of the rooftop garden. 
“Thank you for coming, as always, Isuzu-san.” Latifah, who had been talking to a bird perched on a longstalk holly branch, stopped, and smiled beatifically. 
As its name implied, the rooftop garden was built on the castle’s top floor. Beneath the beautiful stars, the trees grew lush and the flowers bloomed, kissed by the gentle night wind. 
The slender girl stood in one corner of the garden. She had pale skin that seemed translucent, sparkling golden hair, and a long dress that drifted like a willow reed in the wind. 
“Do join me,” Latifah—the slender girl—said. “I have made tea.” 
“Ahh...” Sento Isuzu, AKA Yisuzurch Sentolucia, had a complicated relationship with Princess Latifah: Latifah Fleuranza was the princess of the magical kingdom known as Maple Land. Of course, she had sworn her loyalty to her, and she served her with great reverence; that wasn’t the source of the problem. 
The problem was that Latifah had remained fourteen years old for over a decade. 
At three or four years old, Isuzu had had her first audience with Latifah in the royal gardens. Latifah was fourteen, then, and like a beautiful older woman. She had crouched before the little Isuzu and said, “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Yisuzurch-san.” 
Their next meeting was much, much later. Isuzu was sixteen, now, and the taller of the two. This time, the princess looked up at her and said, once again: “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Yisuzurch-san.” This time her tone was reverent, as if she were the one meeting an amazing older woman... 
Of course, this did not shake Isuzu’s loyalty in any way. It just unsettled her, the way she could not tell if she should revere her, or dote on her. If they ever had a chance to speak more intimately, should she talk to her like she was older, or like she was younger? Isuzu didn’t know. 
Then, today, a new problem had arisen. 
Your Highness... Isuzu thought. I fear I must ask you a question. That mortal, so arrogant, yet possessing such mysterious power—How do you feel about him? How do you feel about Kanie Seiya?