“Let’s get it all out on the table, then,” he said flatly. “What happens if I say no? You’ll kill me?”
“Well...” Her voice was low and hard to hear, but she made no sign of reaching for her weapon.
An awkward silence hung over the conference room. Far in the distance, he could hear the clatter of the roller coaster.
At length, Isuzu spoke. “I was never... going to kill you.”
“Oh?” Of course she wasn’t. It would be ridiculous to kill someone over something like this.
“I was born into a long line of Maple Land soldiers,” she said stiffly. “I’ve spent my entire life undergoing grueling training so that I could join the royal guard and protect the royal family.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t know how to ask a mortal like you for help.”
“Hence the gun?”
“Yes. Incidentally, the gun’s name is...” She reached under her skirt again and drew her musket back out. “The magical gun, Steinberger. It’s been handed down through generations in my family. It can fire magic bullets that have a variety of effects; right now, it’s loaded with rounds known as ‘Pain Bringer.’ Being hit by one will hurt about twice as much as stubbing your little toe on the dresser.”
“So, it just hurts?”
“Yes. Do you want to try it?”
“No.” Seiya drew back as he found the muzzle pointed at him again.
“It’s okay,” she encouraged him. “You won’t die.”
“I still don’t want to be in pain!” Seiya protested. “Stubbing your little toe on the dresser hurts a lot!”
“The point is, I was never going to kill you.” Isuzu stowed her gun again. “The park is already so desperate for competent people that they’ve been forced to employ me as a negotiator.”
“Why can’t you hire a lawyer or a professional administrator?” He wanted to know.
“We have, but we lost them. They all quit.”
“Why?”
Isuzu turned her eyes downward abruptly. “Because... I threatened them with my magical gun.”
“Hey!”
“I regret what I’ve done,” she admitted. “The only reason the police weren’t called in was because I used my magical bullets, ‘Forgotten Realm.’ It made them forget that I threatened them.”
Those bullets sound useful, Seiya thought. I wish you’d erase my memories of the last few days.
“It was Latifah-sama’s revelation that chose you, but I think you have even greater potential than she knows. Please think about it.”
Seiya let out a long sigh, and stood up.
“Are you leaving?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said bluntly. “Got a problem with that?”
“I want your answer,” Isuzu demanded.
“You know my answer. It’s ‘no.’” What good can I possibly do as a manager of a theme park with just two weeks left to live? Getting the books in order would be the upper limit. He left the conference room and strode down the hallway, with Isuzu in pursuit.
“Even though I’m begging you?” she asked.
“When did you ever beg me?”
“We gave you magic.”
“Which is something I never asked for,” he said acidly. “Oh, don’t worry—I won’t abuse it. I might use it to kill time on the train, at most.”
That much he meant sincerely; he didn’t want or need that power. Maybe he couldn’t quite land that 85,000 yen figure, but even without magic, he was smart enough to get close.
“Kanie-kun, you’re our last hope,” she begged. “Please, save us.”
“I will not.” Seiya pressed the call button for the elevator at the end of the hall, then turned around. “Close down the park immediately. Fire the staff. Use whatever money you have left to open up a croquette shop or something with that girl. That’s your most constructive option right now.”
The elevator arrived.
“Wait,” she pleaded. “At least see Latifah-sama one last time before you go.”
That smile. That beautiful, delicate girl’s smile... The fragrance of the black tea arose at the back of his mind and he felt a pang in his chest.
“...How many times do I need to say it? No.” He tapped B2 for the underground passageway, then held the “close doors” button.
The closing elevator doors seemed to form a wall between Seiya and Isuzu.
Turning down someone’s request like that didn’t feel great. With uncertainty still swimming in his mind, Seiya made the long walk down the park’s underground passage and arrived at the employee entrance. He handed in his visitor’s ID at the security center, slapped his signature on the sign-out sheet, then left the park.
He had just found the bus stop that would take him towards Amagi Station when he noticed a man standing in front of the sign. It was Kurisu Takaya, one of the men he’d met in the conference room—one of the men from Amagi Development. The two older men he’d been with at the time were gone now; he must have sent them on ahead.
The man had a cigarette in one hand and a portable ashtray in the other. His tie was pulled loose, and he seemed to be gazing at some point far in the distance. In this moment, he seemed like any ordinary businessman that you might find anywhere.
Seiya didn’t really want to get near him, but this was the only bus stop in the area. They had already made eye contact too, so he just gave the man a small nod and then stood beside him. According to the timetable at the stop, the bus should arrive in about five minutes.
They stood there for about a minute before Seiya realized that Kurisu was casting frequent, questioning glances in his direction. At first, he pretended not to notice, but it started getting under his skin after a while, until he finally snapped, “What?”
“Oh, well...” Kurisu peered more closely into Seiya’s face. “It might just be my imagination, but have we met before?”
“...No,” Seiya finally replied. “It’s definitely just your imagination.”
“Hmm, well, maybe we haven’t met, but I do feel like I’ve seen you somewhere. ...Oh, I know! Kodama Seiya! The child performer who retired five or six years back!”
“......” Seiya felt his stomach sink.
He’d grown since he was a child, and his face had changed a lot. He was taller, with a different hairstyle and a nastier disposition. His voice had changed (naturally) and he’d moved from a high-class residential district to the middle-class Tokyo commuter town of Amagi. He’d even changed his surname.
But despite all that, he was still recognized from time to time.
Even since entering high school, he’d been through this dance two or three times. It was usually an old lady behind the fast food counter, or a checkout clerk at the supermarket, or a door-to-door missionary for a new religion... never anybody at his school; always middle-aged women. Maybe raising their own children had given them an instinct for how a boy’s face would change over the years.
This, then, was his first time being singled out by a man like Kurisu.
“You’re mistaken,” he said dismissively, but Kurisu shook his head.
“No, no, I’m not mistaken. You’re Kodama Seiya. I even thought you looked familiar when we met earlier. So it is you!”
“It’s not,” Seiya rebuffed him, but the man’s expression of certainty didn’t waver. Realizing it was ridiculous to keep up the act, Seiya decided to stop denying it. “...but assuming I was him, do you have some business with a washed-up celebrity?”
“No, none in particular,” Kurisu admitted. “Just indulging my curiosity.”
“Leave me alone, then.”
“Hmm, my apologies. But... she said you were an intern, didn’t she? What are you doing here?”
“Good question. That’s what I’d like to know,” he snapped back, but Kurisu was unfazed by his hostility. “They said they wanted me to have a look at you Amagi Development guys... They wanted me to work there, I guess, but I already turned them down. I value my privacy these days. So could you please leave me alone?”
He wasn’t lying about feeling that way.
He didn’t care about the ins and outs of some failing amusement park. It didn’t matter to him what happened to Latifah or Isuzu. All he wanted to do right now was to go home and immerse himself in his video games.
The bus to Amagi Station was pulling up.
“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. But one point of caution, in case you get any foolish ideas—if you spend too much time with losers, you’ll become a loser. Be careful.”
“Sure, thanks,” Seiya replied dismissively. At the same time, he couldn’t keep himself from voicing a counter-argument. “...You’d know what you’re talking about, as the guy in charge of liquidating a failed amusement park in the backends of Tokyo.”
“Hmm, touche.” Contrary to Seiya’s expectations, Kurisu responded with a bright smile. It was unlike the polite smile he’d been wearing up to this point; a complicated smile, with a trace of self-recrimination in it.
The bus stopped in front of them, and the door opened. Kurisu got on board, but Seiya remained where he was.
“Kanie-kun, wasn’t it?” Kurisu asked. “Aren’t you getting on?”
“I’ll catch the next one. I’d rather not have to look at your face any longer.”
“Oh dear, dear. Did I hurt your feelings? Ah well, take care.” The door closed. The bus drove off, and disappeared around the gentle bends of the public road.
Seiya watched Kurisu Takaya’s bus leave, then checked the timetable again; ten minutes until the next bus arrived.
Even for a failing amusement park, it’s ridiculous for buses to only run to the front gate every ten minutes, he thought. This is the Tokyo suburbs, not some isolated spot in the country. Then again—maybe it’s an appropriate pace, given their typical attendance...
He looked around to see if there was anywhere to sit. There was nothing nearby, not even a plain old bench. He’d just have to wait for the bus while standing. Nowhere to sit for the parents and their children, tired from walking around the park all day...