Amagi Brilliant Park: Volume 5

by Shouji Gatou

  “...Lord Moffle. Do you remember before, when I said I wasn’t angry?”

  “M-Moffu...”

  “I was lying.” Isuzu drew the musket from the bowl on her head.

  Kanie Seiya looked at his watch and scowled. His secretary, Isuzu, had left the office earlier ‘on business,’ and hadn’t come back since. “Darn it... I’ve got work piling up here. What the hell is she doing?” It had been an hour and a half already. She wasn’t responding to emails.

  At last, he got fed up and called security. He asked security chief Okuro, “Have you seen Sento?”

  Okuro responded in hurried tones, “I haven’t.”

  “What’s wrong?” Seiya asked. “You sound a little freaked out...”

  “Well, I’m sorry, Kanie-san... I’ve been getting some rather... strange reports.”

  “Reports?”

  “Yes,” Okuro confirmed. “A pink, two-heads-tall kappa has been chasing Moffle-san around and shooting a gun at him...”

  “What in the world? Did we even have a kappa in this park?”

  “No. I’ve never seen one before.”

  “Hmm...” Seiya fell into thought.

  “Ah, wait a minute!” Okuro shouted to someone in the background, then continued his report. “Ah, excuse me. It seems someone just found Moffle’s corpse in the underground passage under Wild Valley. We still haven’t found the kappa.”

  “This sounds dangerous. Once Moffle comes back to life, tell him to come in and report to me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Seiya hung up the phone and went back to his work. About thirty minutes later, Isuzu returned. She looked exhausted.

  “You’re late,” he said accusingly. “I emailed you several times. What were you doing?”

  “I’m sorry. I... ran into a little trouble.”

  “Huh?”

  “I regret many things.” Isuzu sat down at her desk, an aura of weariness hanging about her.

  “By the way, I heard there was a pink kappa wreaking havoc backstage,” Seiya said. “Do you know anything about it?”

  At his question, Isuzu nearly fell out of her secretary’s chair. She had to struggle to stay up right.

  “...?”

  “No... I don’t know anything about it,” she told him.

  “I see,” he frowned. “Well, I think we’d better tighten up security a little.”

  “Yes... I agree,” Isuzu responded, voice trembling.

  Reality Bites

  It was early summer, and Moffle was facing a difficult daily grind: He’d get up at 5:00 AM. Fighting off the urge to go back to sleep, he would gulp down his instant coffee, eat some cereal, get his appearance in order, then head to the park. Starting from 6:00 AM, he would run through his preparations for Moffle’s House of Sweets: Blood & Bullets. At 7:00 AM, he would start practice rehearsals for his new live show, Pirates of Ironbeard.

  Then, starting at 9:00 AM, he was in meetings: planning meetings, accounting meetings, PR meetings. Meetings, meetings, meetings... The nature of the meetings changed day to day, and typically ended with him clashing with Kanie Seiya and getting annoyed. By the time the morning meetings were over, it would be just past 10:00 AM, and the park would have opened. Moffle would hurry his way to Entrance Square to greet the guests, perform and take souvenir photos. Every 30 minutes or so, he’d alternate between the House of Sweets and Entrance Square, interacting enthusiastically with guests in both locations.

  He’d eat an early lunch of rice balls on his way through the underground passage, passing Tiramii and Macaron a few times on the way. Since nobody had any time to chat, they usually just shot each other a wave and a nod as they passed by. Then just before noon, preparations for the live show would begin. Moffle would go over the details with the show’s supervisor, Kenjuro; since it was performed in the pool, the safety precautions were stricter than usual. The performance would start at 1:00 PM. He’d do some fencing with pirates, sing, fire some cannons, and dance. It would be over at 2:00 PM, at which point he’d go back to his rounds between the Entrance Square and House of Sweets, bringing joy to the guests without ever showing his exhaustion. This was around the time of day when families and children started getting cranky, but he endured all the abuse with a smile and a “moffu!”

  At 4:00 PM, Moffle would have his second live show. It was at this point that he’d be feeling drowsy, but he’d fight that back, too. He put his heart into his singing, his dancing, his fencing... He couldn’t afford to slip up.

  Following that second performance—a bit after 5:00 PM—he would go around the park with Tiramii and Macaron, to delight guests with surprise dances and photo ops. Once that was done, it was back to the House of Sweets where he’d give the guests a treat by rushing in to fight the attraction’s big boss, Naughty Mouse Overlord, at their sides.

  For dinner, his assistant, Chujo Shiina, would bring him a croquette lunch. These would be the croquettes made by Latifah that he loved so much, and he would want to savor them... but inevitably, he’d polish them off in just a few minutes.

  Around 7:00 PM, as the sun went down, they would hold a live show in the plaza in front of Maple Castle. The premise was all the AmaBri mascots coming together to beat up a bad guy. It was an extravagant show that incorporated fireworks and lasers and fountains, but site director Dornell and his staff handled most of that, so all Moffle had to do was show up ten minutes before showtime.

  Even so, Moffle was the lead role; he couldn’t afford to slip up. With the guests clapping and cheering him on, he would jump and bound and give them the best show he could. By the time the show ended, it would be 8:00 PM. He would be on the verge of collapse by now, but he’d still have to stick around until closing time to say goodbye to departing guests. He’d give out souvenir balloons, and repeat “Moffu! Moffu!” as if to say “Come back soon!”

  9:00 PM was closing time. That meant it would be time for more meetings; project meeting, accounts meetings. Meetings, meetings, meetings... There would be practices and rehearsals for the show starting in August, too. And he’d once again get annoyed at Kanie Seiya.

  Once the meetings were over, he’d revisit the now-closed House of Sweets. His part-timer, Chujo Shiina, would bravely take overtime to help him out, but he would inevitably end up staying until 11:00 PM anyway, checking thoroughly to make sure no issues were going to pop up the next day.

  At last, exhausted, Moffle would go home. He’d be back around midnight, take a shower, have a beer, watch the late news, then fall asleep. He hadn’t been to Savage, his favorite yakitori bar, in a dog’s age.

  He’d sleep four or five hours. At 5:00 AM, the alarm would ring, and he’d fight the urge to smash the clock. Grunting, groaning, yet mustering all his willpower, he would pick himself up and start his preparations. Let’s do it again today, he would tell himself, for the guests of AmaBri!

  One fiercely hot Sunday afternoon, after the afternoon live show had concluded, Moffle hurried to his attraction, Moffle’s House of Sweets: Blood & Bullets. Incidentally, Blood & Bullets was a name he’d given to it after the renovation—he’d wanted to communicate its new, more hardcore nature. Kanie Seiya had objected fervently, but his fears had proved needless. The contradiction between the whimsical “House of Sweets” and the violent name “Blood and Bullets” had created buzz. People had laughed about it on the Internet and news stations had covered it... And with one thing and another, it had brought in more visitors. Thanks to that, Moffle’s House of Sweets: Blood and Bullets was now doing great business. There were constantly long lines to the attraction, and the staff was working busily.

  “Great mob, Joffle-san!” Part-timer Chujo Shiina greeted him as he entered the greenroom backstage. (She tended to still flub her words like this from time to time.)

  “Moffu, Chujo. How’s everything going, fumo?”

  “Well...” Shiina hesitated.

  “...? What’s wrong, fumo?”

  “There are no problems with the attraction its
elf...” she said hesitantly. “But one of the guests passed out in line from the heat...”

  “...! What then, fumo?”

  “He was taken to the medical center. Fortunately, it wasn’t so bad that we had to call an ambulance, but...”

  Moffle canceled his appearance in the attraction and hurried to the medical center.

  The park’s medical center sat to the west of the main gate, in a corner of Entrance Square. It looked like a whimsical drug store from onstage, but inside it was a standard medical center.

  The supplies that filled the glass shelves were on par with what you’d see in a school nurse’s office: digestive medicine, headache medicine, bandages and plasters, and a defibrillator. Anything requiring more severe medical attention would require an ambulance to be called in.

  It had ten beds. That had always seemed excessive for an amusement park of their size, but when Moffle visited, all the beds were filled.

  “Moffu.”

  They were all there because of the heatwave: children, seniors, and women, all in varying states of bad health, wrapped up in blankets and looking listless. Moffle had been working at this park for a long time, but this was his first time seeing anything like this.

  Peggy, a member of the nurse cast, was busily moving from bed to bed. She was a tanuki-type mascot from Maple Land, like Moffle. “Hey, Moffle,” she said.

  “Hey there, Auntie Peggy,” he replied. “I heard that a guest passed out at my attraction?”

  “Third bed down,” Peggy said, then withdrew into the back.

  “Moffu...”

  In the third bed down lay a boy of about middle school age. Actually, he may have been a bit younger... At any rate, he seemed about twelve or thirteen years old. He also looked vaguely familiar.

  “Ugh... unh... mm?” The child stirred, then looked up at Moffle and blinked. “M-Moffle?!” he shouted, and bolted upright. He seemed surprisingly energetic for someone who had just passed out from the heat.

  “Hey there, kid. You okay, fumo?”

  “Huh? You can talk?!”

  “Moffu.” (Typically he was bound never to say anything but “Moffu” and “Fumo” onstage, but in certain situations—guidance in natural disasters, caring for the sick and wounded—it was allowed. As this was an extension of the latter scenario, Moffle had decided that it qualified.) “I heard you passed out in line for my House of Sweets. I feel bad about that, fumo.”

  “I...” The child was silent for a moment. Then he seemed to rethink something, and said: “N-No way! It’s just, the line today was really long, and I just started getting sick while I was waiting...”

  “I see, fumo... I’ve been worried about the wait times we’re putting our customers through, fumo. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, but take it easy on yourself, would you?”

  “I’m fine!” the boy insisted. “Besides, Moffle’s House of Sweets is my purpose in life!”

  “Your purpose in life?”

  “Yeah!” The boy’s eyes twinkled. “I got an annual pass and I come in a few times a week. I’ve been doing it since last year! And it’s all for the House of Sweets!”

  Moffle remembered now why the boy looked so familiar: he was a regular. And not just since the renovation this year—he’d been a constant fixture all through last year’s slump.

  “Moffu...” He was certainly a strange one; boys of his age were more likely to make fun of amusement park attractions than to obsess over them. Still, Moffle felt deeply grateful to this boy, who had been a faithful regular during a time when nobody was giving them the time of day. “Thanks, fumo. Er...” he paused, waiting for his name.

  “Seno! Seno Koji!”

  “Right, Koji-kun. I don’t know how to thank you for sticking with my House of Sweets for so long, fumo.”

  Seno Koji seemed to be on cloud nine. If the boy was a regular, they had probably taken numerous souvenir photos together at the end of the attraction— Moffle was starting to recall those now—but they’d never had a chance to talk intimately like this, so it was probably a real thrill for him.

  “The House of Sweets is awesome!” Seno-kun shouted.

  This is the infirmary, Moffle thought. There are people around us who are trying to sleep. “Moffu. Could you keep it down a little?” he urged in gentle tones.

  “Ah, sorry... But it is awesome,” Seno-kun insisted. “At first it just looks like some dumb theme park thing, but it’s actually really hardcore! I love how you don’t dumb it down for kids and casuals!”

  “Er, right...” Moffle agreed awkwardly.

  “It’s like super hard, but if you memorize the patterns, you can bring up your score each time,” Seno-kun went on. “It’s not pandering, but it’s still possible to improve, you know? It’s like a gamers’ paradise!”

  “Moffu. Well... right. You noticed that, fumo?”

  “Of course! And there are all those little bits of realism, right? Especially after the Blood & Bullets renovation! Like how if you fire your magic water pistol too much, the barrel overheats, which throws off your aim! Or how if you don’t headshot the naughty mice and kill them outright, it’ll slow down the rest of the enemy force a little! That’s supposed to represent the rule that if one enemy gets badly injured, two others have to stop to care for him, right?!” Seno-kun gushed. He didn’t seem to care about respecting the atmosphere of the place he was in.

  “Ahh... you noticed all that, fumo?”

  “I sure did! The House of Sweets reflects the truth of the battlefield!”

  “The truth of the battlefield,” he had said. Moffle found it a little embarrassing, but not the worst feeling in the world. It was nice to know there were guests who appreciated the care he put in.

  “I’m gonna keep coming by!” Seno-kun promised. “Just don’t let it become some boring pleb ride, okay?”

  “M-Moffu. I won’t, fumo.” Moffle held up his paw as if swearing an oath.

  That night, during a planning meeting...

  “We’re getting to a breaking point with guest turnover,” acting manager Kanie Seiya said. “Our plans have been paying off these last few months, and attendance has skyrocketed. That’s a good thing, of course, but...” He flipped through his thick stack of documents. “Queue time has reached unprecedented levels. Just in Sorcerer’s Hill... Elementario has a 50 minute wait. Tiramii’s Flower Adventure has a 40 minute wait. Macaron’s Music Theater has a 50 minute wait...” Seiya cleared his throat. “...And Moffle’s House of Sweets has a 70 minute wait.”

  The cast members present all let out a cry. Perhaps they were impressed by the popularity of the park’s headliner mascot. On top of that, they hadn’t had a wait time of more than an hour in over ten years.

  But Moffle didn’t look happy about it. Neither did Seiya.

  “Moffu...”

  “So, Moffle, what are we going to do about this? Summer vacation will be starting soon, and we’ll be getting even more guests. If we don’t do something, these waits could get as high as 120 minutes.”

  “......”

  “Unfortunately, your House of Sweets doesn’t have the facilities to deal with long lines. Most of your guests end up waiting out in the blazing sun. You want them out in the sun for over two hours?”

  “......Moffu.”

  “You had a guest pass out today, right? Fortunately it wasn’t bad, but there’s no guarantee we won’t see worse. The next one might suffer serious heat stroke. We can’t wait until it happens to respond. You all understand the danger this represents, right? Moffle, I want to hear some opinions.”

  “Moffu...” Moffle knew that Seiya wasn’t trying to put him on the spot. He knew he just wanted to be clear about the danger, and get some concrete suggestions for what to do about it. Moffle knew all that, and he knew what Seiya was trying to say. Even so...

  “Moffle.”

  “......”

  “Moffle,” Seiya insisted again, “answer me.”

  “...Ah, all right. I hear you, fumo.”
Moffle let out a deep sigh and pulled some documents out of his file case. He flipped through, grudgingly looking over the data for the month. “You want me to speed up turnover. Is that right, fumo? At the moment it’s an average of 8 minutes 30 seconds, and if I can shorten that to 80%, that’s... um...”

  “6 minutes 48 seconds,” Seiya answered immediately.

  “Right,” Moffle agreed. “If I decrease the spawn rate of the naughty mice, I think I can manage it. But that will change the high scores, which means the hall of fame—”

  “I don’t care about the hall of fame,” Seiya told him flatly. “And 80% isn’t enough— You need to cut it to 50%.”

  Moffle couldn’t believe his ears. “Halve the playtime?! To four minutes and change?! That’s too short, fumo!” Moffle’s House of Sweets: Blood and Bullets had eight areas (one for each room), and if he did as Seiya asked, the guests would get only 30 seconds per area. Taking into account time to move from one room to another, it would really go as low as 20... No one was going to have any fun!

  But Seiya’s gaze was serious. “Even halving the playtime won’t actually cut the wait time in half. We also lose time to moving the queue, the initial instructions, and the picture-taking at the end. I did some rough calculations, and...” Seiya tapped a notepad on his desk. “It will still only cut the wait time to about 80%.” That will turn a 120 minute line into a 96 minute one.

  It wouldn’t drastically fix the problem, but Seiya probably considered it the minimum of what they had to do. Moffle knew all that, yet he still couldn’t accept it as a solution. “Not possible, fumo.”

  “It is possible,” Seiya told him. “Make it happen.”

  Moffle pounded his paw on the table. “What do you think our guests are, cattle?! Making them wait that long in the heat, then telling them ‘okay, all done’ after such a short time? No one’s going to enjoy that! It would be better not to have the attraction at all!”

  “Too bad. It’s one of our headlining attractions,” Seiya said. “And post-renovation, it’s had a lot of buzz.”