“Okay,” Seiya agreed easily. “Anyway, I can tell you’re passionate about it. I’m putting my hopes on you!”
“Okay!!!” The three girls answered energetically.
“Sorry for the interruption. As you were,” Seiya said, before walking away.
Macaron watched him carefully from around a backstage corner until he was finally out of sight. “Okay! Let’s kick this up a notch!” he cheered. “They’re gonna see a new trio starting today!”
“Y-Yesh! Det’s boo our lest (let’s do our best),” Shiina said.
“I’m sure it will be so much fun!” the others agreed.
Eiko, Biino, and Shiina drew close to each other and struck a motivational pose. They didn’t seem to have noticed the changes in Seiya at all.
“Macaron-san?”
“Ron? Ah... right! Anyway, let’s do our best, ron! Now, back to practice! Book of Ezekiel, chapter 25, verse 17! ‘The path of the righteous man is beset...’”
“This again?”
The three girls slumped over as Macaron began his energetic recital.
It wasn’t just Macaron, but people all over the cast who got in contact with Isuzu about there being “something odd about Seiya.” Moffle did it, Tiramii did it. Head of administration Tricen did it, head of food Nick did it, as did head of maintenance Wrenchy-kun...
“Has Seiya seemed a little tired lately, fumo?” they said.
“Kanie-kun’s been yelling at me less lately, mii... I almost feel a little neglected, mii...” they said.
“He hasn’t rebuked me at all. I find myself hunching over with fear...” they said.
The complaints came over LINE, through email, and in person.
Are our employees so masochistic that they want Kanie-kun’s abuse? Isuzu found herself wondering. But she couldn’t really blame them; she felt the same way. The one ray of hope she found was that the only people unsettled by Seiya’s recent behavior were solely the real cast in leadership positions; the rank-and-file and part-timers didn’t know him well enough to be particularly flustered by it. But that, too, was probably just a matter of time, and she worried that morale all over the park might eventually come to suffer.
After seeing through the Task Force ABC concert, Isuzu returned to the general affairs building. When she arrived in the acting manager’s office, she found Seiya working on his PC. He must not have gone to the show.
“Sento,” he said by way of greeting. “How’d the ABC show go?”
“It was a sold out crowd,” she told him. “The fans were extremely pleased, and we sold nearly all of their merchandise.”
“We didn’t produce much to begin with, so that’s not too surprising.”
“I see...” She sat down at her desk and cast a glimpse at Seiya. It was quite dark outside by now, and she could see his computer screen reflected in the window behind him. She had assumed he was doing paperwork, but she was wrong. It was a simple card game: Freecell. Seiya, playing Freecell during work? Isuzu couldn’t believe her eyes. The ever-diligent Kanie Seiya, skipping out on work to play Freecell?!
While Isuzu sat there in bewilderment, he continued moving his mouse, click, click, click. He snapped his tongue almost inaudibly. He must have hit a wall and been forced to restart. “Hey, Sento...” he said.
“Y-Yes?”
“You know the saying, ‘all affairs are like Saio’s horse’?”
“Yes. It’s a mortal saying,” she replied. “It means that bad things can have good results in the long run... and vice-versa.”
“That’s right,” he agreed amiably. “Lately, I feel like I understand what that means.”
Because he’s playing Freecell? Isuzu wondered. She sometimes got that feeling when playing that game. There was a rush of endorphins that came when you got past a difficult situation—she understood it well. She had once been rather addicted to it herself, and after determining it to be a toxic, dangerous piece of software, she had deleted it from her computer.
“And?” she questioned.
“Well... that impossible three million requirement... I’ve started thinking it might be a good thing, in the long run,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s all.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Well... I guess it doesn’t really matter,” Seiya said, letting out a small yawn.
“...I must ask you a question, Seiya-kun,” Isuzu finally said. “Someone at school told me that you volunteered to manage your class’s cafe at the culture festival.”
“I didn’t volunteer. I reluctantly agreed,” Seiya clarified. “...What, are people talking?”
“Yes. That’s how rare it is for you to become aggressively involved with school activities.”
“Ah, I guess it is.”
“Your duties as acting manager are trying enough as it is,” she told him. “Are you certain that you can handle this?”
“I don’t know. I figure I can work it out, though.”
“How can you say that?” she burst out.
Seiya kept clicking his mouse. “Don’t worry. If any conflicts arise, this place will always take priority.” By ‘this place,’ he of course meant AmaBri.
“But then what about the culture festival?” she questioned.
“It’s not like my reputation can suffer any more. Everyone hates me already. But it’s just a mock cafe for two days, right? I can polish that off in a few spare hours.” Seiya’s nonchalant tone filled Isuzu with an annoyance she found hard to describe.
“I suppose that’s true,” she said. “But... in that case, why did you agree to be their manager?”
“I wanted to finish up homeroom and leave,” Seiya explained.
“Really? That’s the only reason?”
“Of course it is... what’s with you today, anyway? What are you so worried about?”
“You’re playing Freecell,” she pointed out. “I can see it.”
“Hmm...”
“I’m worried because your behavior is unusual.”
“I’m just trying to change things up a little.” Seiya closed the card game window and let out a sigh.
“I don’t mind that, but—” Just then, the phone at Isuzu’s desk rang. It was an outside number; she answered it immediately. “Yes? Maple Enterprise, secretarial department, Sento speaking.” Isuzu was the only member of that ‘department,’ of course. But she always introduced herself this way, as a matter of appearances.
“I’m sorry to bother you so late at night. I’m Handa from Kagaya Real Estate. Could you put me through to Kanie-sama, please?” It was an unfamiliar woman’s voice. She sounded energetic, but not young; she was probably over 40 years old.
“Yes. Handa-sama, you said? Just a moment.” She pressed the hold button and turned to Seiya. “It’s someone called Handa from Kagaya Real Estate. Do you know her?”
“Ah... yeah. Put her through.” Seiya seemed a little flustered. He seemed to think deeply for a moment, then picked up the receiver. “Kanie here. Yes... no, I don’t mind at all. My cell number... ah, I see. I’m sorry.”
Isuzu didn’t know what the woman was saying. She assumed that this (probably older) woman named Handa was apologizing for calling him at work instead of on his smartphone. In other words, Seiya had been trying to get in contact with this person from Kagaya Real Estate without Isuzu, his secretary, finding out about it. What’s going on here? she wondered. As if sensing Isuzu’s dissatisfied gaze, Seiya turned his back on her while he continued his conversation. Kagaya Real Estate... it was a real estate company, obviously. It sounded familiar, but she didn’t think AmaBri had any ongoing deals with them.
“...Yes. Hmm, I see... there? Yes... that might possibly work. Ah... yes... I understand... then could I come and have a look at the site? How about tomorrow? ...Yes. Tomorrow at 1:00, then. Thank you very much. Goodbye.” Seiya hung up the receiver.
They were engulfed by that peculiar silence unique to a small office after a phone call ended. It was Isuzu who broke it first. “Seiya-kun? Was that—”
“Can we save the interrogation for later?” Seiya asked, holding up his hand. “I didn’t tell you because I’m still not committed. I didn’t know if the property was there or not.”
“Property? What do you mean?” Isuzu wanted to know.
“I’ll... explain tomorrow. Don’t ask me anything today,” Seiya ordered. “I haven’t even sorted out all my own thoughts on it.”
“But...”
“Just keep your schedule open tomorrow. We can meet up at 11 AM at Inabazutsumi Station, and then we’ll have a private viewing.”
“A private viewing? What do you...”
“Mum’s the word, okay?” He turned off his computer, then swiftly started packing up to go home.
“Seiya-kun,” Isuzu protested, “I don’t understand.”
“Just don’t tell anyone. Not even Latifah. Tomorrow at Inabazutsumi Station, 11 AM. Don’t be late, okay?” he told her shortly, and then headed off on his own.