by Shouji Gatou
“Hmm...”
“So I’ve got this yakuza guy furious with mii! I’m here groveling, and he’s talking about breaking my fingers, mii!”
“With the diaper on?”
“Mii! With the diaper on! Otherwise buck naked, drool crust on his face... So he says, ‘You got anything to say to me?’ And so I... I... I know it’s suicide, but I just can’t help myself...”
“What did you do?”
“I say ‘I’m vewwy sowwy,’ mii!”
“Bwahahahaha!”
“Gyahahahaha!”
Moffle and Macaron fell over laughing.
Tiramii pumped his fist in the air. “Well, mii? Funny, huh mii?!”
“Puff! I just imagined it, fumo! Gahaha!”
“Damn... I can picture the whole room just freezing over, ron! Hee hee hee...”
“Well, since you laughed, that’ll be 500 yen apiece, mii. C’mon. Pay up, mii.”
“You got me there, fumo. Here, 500 yen.”
“You win this round, ron... here.” Moffle and Macaron each ponied up a 500 yen coin to Tiramii.
“A pleasure doing business with you, mii! ...Of course, Muse-chan didn’t take the bet, so she’s exempted, mii!”
“Thanks... hahaha.” Muse, who was at the same table and listening in, was forcing her laughter. They’d had a bet going: If you laughed at Tiramii’s story, you paid 500 yen; if you didn’t laugh, he’d give you 500 yen. Muse had opted out, but thinking back now, she could have gotten 500 yen from Tiramii if she’d taken the bet (not that she wanted it). She didn’t find the story funny at all, and it was a little crude for her liking.
Hmm... At another table not far away, her comrades from Aquario—Spirit of Fire Salama, Spirit of Earth Kobory, and Spirit of Wind Sylphie—were teasing a fellow member of the cast, Wanipii. They were joking about Wanipii’s ideas about women (specifically, his favorite idol singer), and Salama in particular was needling him with comments like, “There’s no way she’s really like that”... To which Wanipii dug his hole deeper with such desperate rebuttals as: “But she is, pii! She’s... she’s a really good girl, pii!” Then they all laughed again. They seemed to be having so much fun. If only she could be at that table instead...
There were about forty people attending the drinking party that Muse had arranged. That was too many to fit in their usual room at yakitori bar Savage, so she’d made reservations at a nearby chain restaurant. But the drink ordering turned out to be overly complicated, and Mirai-kun had gone off-menu to order himself a bottle of wine... On top of that, the pirate Ironbeard had brought his fur seal retinue, which put them far over their reserved seating and had Muse in a panic over how to deal with it. Fortunately, the very considerate dolphin Kenjuro took ten of the fur seals, the part-time “ABC trio,” and the shark Jaw off to another restaurant nearby, which got them just down to their reservation limit.
The man responsible for all the trouble, Ironbeard himself, quickly got drunk and started hitting on accounts manager Ashe. Of course, she’d probably be fine... Ashe knew just how to deal with men like him. She just smiled and nodded while pouring more and more cheap booze into Ironbeard’s cup; he’d probably pass out soon enough.
Tiramii continued with his story, but Muse had grown so focused on monitoring the other tables for trouble that she completely missed how he got the yakuza man to forgive him. Of course, knowing Tiramii-senpai, he probably used some kind of strange magical item to bail himself out. She was more interested in what was going on at Salama’s table.
“Okay, so... If you had to choose one of the four of us, which would it be, Wanipii?” Salama was asking.
She was half-teasing, but Wanipii began thinking hard, seeming to take the question in earnest. “Pii... Pii... Well... hmm... That’s a tough one, pii... I’ve sworn my eternal love to Miiya-chan, see...” Miiya-chan must have been the idol he was talking about earlier.
“Oh, who cares about that?” Salama scoffed. “It’s all hypothetical. C’mon, c’mon.”
“You’ll feel better after you tell us. Have some katsudon.” Sylphie slid a small appetizer bowl under Wanipii’s nose, playing the good cop.
“Pii... Pii... Um... In that case...” Wanipii cast a glance in the direction of Muse, sitting at her separate table.
What, seriously? I hope not... Muse thought.
Just as she thought it, Wanipii spoke: “Umm... Out of the four Aquario girls, Kobory-chan is most my type, pii.”
“Hahaha! I knew it! Long black hair! Long black hair!” Salama cackled, while Sylphie pointed accusingly at Kobory, like a detective naming a suspect.
Kobory just said, “C-Come on, don’t try to flatter me...” and waved her hands with an awkward smile (the correct response).
Ugh. Muse felt a bit pathetic for entertaining the notion that she’d be picked. It wasn’t so much about Wanipii; she just hated her self-obsession at times like these. The thing with Kanie-san is that way, too...
While Muse was drifting off in thought, Macaron addressed her: “By the way, is Kanie-kun not coming, ron?”
“Huh?”
“Kanie-kun. You said you were gonna invite him, ron.”
“Ah... y-yes. But he passed,” Muse explained. “He said he had homework, I believe.”
“Mii. Kanie-kun never comes to these things. I’ve invited him to Savage a few times, and nada, mii.”
“Moffu... Being acting manager is all the more reason to keep his distance, I’d say,” Moffle said, as he drained his mug of Hoppy.
“Is it?”
“Yeah. He feels a certain sense of responsibility, fumo. And he likely feels that leadership should be a lonely thing, fumo... he probably thinks it makes him seem cool. And, well, that’s about what I expect out of Seiya.”
As the person in charge of tonight’s drinking party, Muse could understand a little bit of what Moffle was saying. Of course, a single night of leadership couldn’t tell her everything, but she could at least imagine the shape of it. Muse found herself feeling very sad that Kanie Seiya wasn’t joining them. “Still, I wish he’d come by every once in a while...”
“Maybe he will, some day. But it wouldn’t be tonight at any rate, fumo.”
“Why not?” she wanted to know.
“Something’s come up about the park. He’s probably off gnawing away at it on his own, fumo.”
“Ahh...”
“Wait a minute, mii! You said he’d be on his own... but Isuzu-chan didn’t come either, mii! What does it mean, mii?!”
“Ah, that’s right... Isuzu-san... she canceled today, too. She said she had some homework for school.”
“Isuzu-chan’s also using homework as an excuse, ron? At this time of the school year? Seems fishy to me...”
“Mii... You think they’re sharing a night at the Alamo, mii?”
Macaron and Tiramii exchanged suggestive grins.
“Stop it, fumo,” Moffle interrupted with a grimace. “But, well, it’s very possible they’re having a discussion. You know how damn serious the two of them are, don’t you?”
“Mii,” Tiramii agreed. “But, but... being serious and indulging your passions don’t have to be mutually exclusive, mii.”
“They really are two of a kind, ron. They should hook up already.”
“Moffu. Honestly...”
From there, the three mascots moved to a different subject: They were talking about a recently released war movie, which left Muse totally in the dark. But Macaron’s words, “They’re two of a kind, ron,” lingered in her mind and sent her stomach fluttering with unease.
2: Seiya’s Day Off
Seiya woke up feeling sick the next morning. He threw up twice in the toilet. At first he thought it might have been food poisoning, but that didn’t seem possible— when he messaged Isuzu to ask her how she was feeling, she’d said she was fine.
He’d eaten every meal with Isuzu yesterday: for breakfast, he’d had AmaBri’s “Set A” lunch in the cafeteria. For lunch, he’d had a box
meal that Isuzu had made for him. For dinner, they’d gone out to the gyudon restaurant together.
He could conclude that it wasn’t something he’d eaten. A psychological issue, then? Yes, there was ample cause there... He would have liked to just go back to bed, but he gritted his teeth, got dressed, downed some water and headed for work.
He knew there was no way he’d make the long bike ride up the hill to the park, so he commuted via train and bus instead. The train turned out fine, but the bus was a nightmare; he ended up getting off at one stop to barf up a storm, after which he messaged Isuzu to say, “I missed my first bus, so I’ll be 15 minutes late.”
Isuzu’s response was, “Understood. Why don’t you take the day off?” But Seiya couldn’t do that. He had several important meetings to attend to today.
He got on the next bus, arrived at the park, and passed through the employee gate. Security chief Okuro greeted him there. “Good morning, Kanie-san! Fine weather we’re having, eh! ...Oh, what’s this? No bike today?” The lack of real suspicion in the guard’s voice, though, suggested that his performance must have succeeded.
Seiya just said, “Yeah, the brakes need a tune-up,” then hurried to the general affairs building.
He ran into Salama on her way to work. He said hello, but her response was more dubious: “Are you all right? You’re looking pale.” He’d let his guard down a little around her.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered. Then Seiya entered the general affairs building, threw up one more time in the second floor bathroom, and carefully rinsed out his mouth before heading for his office.
Isuzu was at her secretary’s desk, typing away when he arrived. “Seiya-kun,” she greeted him. She was wearing her usual uniform, that of the Maple Land Royal Guard. It was a sleeveless red top with gold aiguillettes and a dark gray skirt. “Are you all right?”
“What do you mean?” He decided to play dumb.
“You don’t look well,” she observed.
“Yeah, I’m just fine. Aunt Aisu made me join her for a few drinks after I got home last night. That’s probably the reason.” He knew Isuzu was aware of Aisu, Seiya’s young aunt (and perpetually drunken roommate).
“I see.”
“Anyway,” he said. “Has there been any word from Digimaland?”
Isuzu remained suspicious, but seemed to remember her job soon enough. She looked down at her PC’s display. “...We received an email,” she told him. “It isn’t from Lord Mackey himself, but from one of his lawyers. It contains more details about yesterday’s proposal.”
“What does it say?” Seiya wanted to know.
“Let me see...It’s more or less what Lord Moffle and I were worried about... It’s only a rough outline, but the content is quite extreme.”
“I see...”
“I forwarded it to you. Can you see it?”
“Yeah.” Seiya sat down at his desk and booted up his PC. It was an old model with an annoyingly slow boot-up process, so he changed into his manager’s uniform while he waited; thanks to the partition, Isuzu couldn’t watch him change. He sat down and checked his email.
“......” Isuzu was right; the conditions were extreme. He felt the slowed churning of his stomach start up again in force.
First, rights to all of AmaBri’s characters would be transferred to the Digima Group, which would be free to make movies or merchandise of them as they saw fit. Even just using Moffle’s face on a sign would require the Group’s permission.
Next, Maple Real Estate (the corporate name for AmaBri) would be significantly restructured. Their current departments would be reshuffled and further segmented; leadership of each section would be held by a Digima Group employee. For instance, the head of administration, Tricen, would be dismissed, to be replaced by one of their own.
In addition, the park’s attractions would function under joint control. Attractions that weren’t profitable would be closed immediately and replaced by new attractions (which of course, they’d use the Mogute Clan to build) integrating the Digima Group’s stronger IP. The Digima Group would also gain “input” into what the attractions would contain.
This was only the beginning.
In all facets of park administration, the Digima Group would have authority and control. Seiya’s position of “acting manager” would become more or less ceremonial, with most of his role being comprised of negotiating things with Latifah—and the Digima Group could also dismiss him at will.
It was the same regarding income from merchandising: Currently, the park kept 30% of revenue, but from now on it would be 5%, with the other 25% going to the Digima Group.
Each attraction would be assigned a sponsor through a major advertising agency, and while this would obviously result in incredible revenue, at the same time, it would mean losing the sponsors that had stuck with them all this time. The new sponsors would also have some say in the casting for each attraction.
“Well? Unreasonable, isn’t it?” Isuzu asked, her voice shaking, as though she was holding back her mortification.
Seiya smiled awkwardly and let out a sigh. “I’m not sure. I don’t think they’re serious about this.”
“...?” she waited for him to go on.
“This is a sort of posturing that goes on before negotiations begin,” Seiya explained. “Of course they want to get as many favorable conditions as they can out of the contract, but they won’t really expect us to swallow this nonsense wholesale. We’ll work it out at the table.”
“Ah... perhaps you’re right,” Isuzu agreed tentatively.
“I mean, it’s true that we’re at a major disadvantage... Mackey knows we need to bring in three million people,” he said, “and that we’re grasping at straws.”
“Indeed. But, more than that... the conditions themselves. They feel like an insult.”
“Well, it’s not like they’re doing this out of charity,” Seiya remarked. “If I were in Mackey’s position, I’d do the same thing.”
“So, what do you intend to do?” she asked.
“Let’s see... what to do...” Seiya mused, struggling to sound nonchalant. He looked away from his PC to gaze out the window behind him— It wasn’t good to stare at a screen while you were thinking. He couldn’t see much of the onstage area from here; the general affairs building was short, and separated from the park by a thick patch of trees. He could see the great wheel, though.
I wish I could get on that wheel and just think things over there, he reflected. I’d love to look out over the whole park, examining everything up close... But the park was about to open for the day, and he was acrophobic, anyway. “...Sento. Can you cancel my plans for the day?” he asked, finally.
“Cancel them? All of them?”
“Yeah. If there’s anything you can’t get me out of, I’ll do it, of course, but...”
“Just a moment... let me think. I believe I can move the meetings to other days this week,” she decided. “The negotiations with the agency, too... Tricen and I can handle them.”
“All right. Make it happen.” Seiya hid behind the partition again and changed back into his street clothes.
“Do you intend to go home and rest?”
“No... I’m going to stroll around a little bit.”
“...?”
“I’m officially ditching,” he declared.
Isuzu did not breathe a word of objection... or support, for that matter. She simply said, “All right,” and then watched him leave.
First, Seiya went to the infirmary and laid down for about an hour. The decision to ditch, combined with the rest, proved much more refreshing than he’d expected.
“You were really snoring in there,” the medic, Auntie Peggy, told him. Of course, she was a two-heads-tall tanuki, so while Seiya called her “Auntie,” he wasn’t sure of her real age. Seiya thanked her, left the infirmary, and headed out of the park.
It was summer; it was hot; the sky was blue. He walked out the employee gate and headed east down the street. Aft
er about five minutes of walking, the guest gate came into view. The park had only been open for an hour and a half, but there was already a long line at the ticket booths. Seiya wandered his way to the end of the line.
Shady overhangs and electric fans helped to make the heat bearable; he felt glad that he had ordered them installed. His turn came up about ten minutes later. “One student, please,” he requested. “A day pass.”
The cast member who ran the ticket window, Drokko-san, stared in disbelief. “Kanie-kun? What’re you doing?” Drokko-san was a member of the real cast. Her head was a candy drop, and she wore a long-skirted, sailor-style school uniform. She looked like a Showa-era sukeban—a female delinquent gang leader. It was an odd combination of traits, but she was quite popular (for reasons Seiya couldn’t comprehend).
Drokko-san’s weapon was a yo-yo. Her catchphrase was, “don’t underestimate me!” She was apparently from a magical realm known as the Manpanan Kingdom, and was one of quite a few cast members at AmaBri of the “food for a head” variety.
“I’ve decided to walk around as a guest today,” Seiya explained.
“Huh?”
“Just give me a pass already.” He paid the price for the day pass: 4500 yen for the high school rate. This was standard for an amusement park—a little on the generous side, actually—but it still felt like a major expenditure. It would probably feel worse if you knew about their 30 yen days.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered to Drokko-san. He didn’t want her using the work message board to tell the rest of the cast about it— they might think he was running surprise inspections, or something like that.
For today, Seiya genuinely wanted to be a guest. He wanted to stroll around the park and empty his mind. He wanted to go back to March, to the day Isuzu had first invited him to the park on a “date.” What had changed since then? What hadn’t changed? Maybe, in that, he would find inspiration.
With his pass in hand, Seiya walked through the gate and into Entrance Square. He was greeted by a cluster of buildings, shining white against the blue summer sky. It was a transformation of environment in every way, right down to the sounds and the smells.