Birthday
“How are the preparations going, Mitsuha?”
“Huh? Preparations for what?”
Just as Mitsuha returned to her county residence, she was met with a peculiar greeting from Beatrice who was here taking care of business for Beatrice Company.
“How dare you! I’m talking about my fifteenth birthday party and debutante ball, obviously! It’s finally time for me to enter high society!”
“Uh…? Huh? WHAAAAAAAT?!” Mitsuha screeched. H-How could this be?
“It’s almost my birthday. Debutante balls don’t have to be on the exact day of birth, but you do want to host them as soon as you turn fifteen. This is all common knowledge! You promised me a parade with lights, food stalls, and a…a spectacle of fiery flowers, remember?! And I want the food to be even better than what you served at Lady Adelaide’s ball! I’ll be really mad if it’s not!”
Mitsuha screamed internally. After organizing the debutante ball of Viscount Ryner’s daughter Lady Adelaide, she promised Beatrice she’d do the same for her. Mitsuha kept her fingers crossed that Beatrice would forget she ever said that, but to her horror, the girl remembered every word.
Beatrice was thirteen when Mitsuha first met her. Although it hadn’t been two full years since then, her second birthday was coming up and she was about to turn fifteen.
Well, I was eighteen when we met and I’m almost twenty now. I should’ve expected this…
Nobles in this kingdom didn’t throw extravagant parties for minors, unlike nobles in Vanel. Mitsuha was aware that Beatrice had turned fourteen at some point, but she didn’t know her exact birthday.
The Bozeses likely held a small party with just family and servants, but they would’ve invited me if I was in town. That means it was probably when I was in the capital and they were in their territory (or vice versa), and also before I told Count Bozes that my secret Traversal art doesn’t actually place much of a burden on me.
Hmm, what to do. Should I prioritize the party over county work─no, I’ll have to juggle both…and hurry!
Beatrice’s debutante ball would have to be held at the Bozeses’ mansion in the capital. It was going to be a big event with a lot of guests. There was no way they’d host it in their rural county.
With that in mind…
Food’s gonna be easy!
Preparing the meals was going to be a no-brainer. Mitsuha could borrow Marcel and his culinary team at the Ryners’ house. There was no way they could refuse her if she got down on her knees and begged. Yeah, yeah, I know. I have no shame.
Stalls covered!
Teaching the cooks and servants how to make one dish each shouldn’t be hard. Most Japanese festival foods were simple to make and a lot of them could be prepped beforehand. There was no need to train one cook to make all the food. She just needed to teach one person how to make ikayaki, one person how to make takoyaki, one for candy apples, one for cotton candy, and so on.
That’ll be a cinch.
For the cotton candy, she was thinking about renting one of those self-serving machines so the customers could make their own. Drop a coin in the slot, pour some sugar into the spinner, and gather the floss with a chopstick. All I’d have to do is provide the electricity to run it.
The ice cream stall needed nothing more than a cooler and an ice cream scooper. Scoop the ice cream and serve it in a crispy cone. Easy-breezy.
Takoyaki, too. I’ve made it myself many times. Octopus isn’t a staple in my fridge, so I usually substitute it with chikuwa fish cakes. They make a perfect savory snack.
There was no need to build authentic yatai stalls. Makeshift temporary stalls were going to be enough. They’d only be used for one day─a few hours, even─so they didn’t even need wheels like the Japanese ones. As long as they had counters to serve on, it was good enough. The cooking could be done behind the stalls, so they didn’t need to be durable either.
Sweet, no problems there!
As for the electrical parade… Urgh…
Mascot costumes could cost up to a hundred dollars to rent, and Mitsuha wanted about twenty of them for the parade. She was going to bill Count Bozes for it all, so she wasn’t worried about budgeting. It was a trivial expense considering how much the nobles in this kingdom spent on parties.
The problem was the parade floats─the kind with flashy lights. I don’t even want to think about what those things go for.
New floats cost thousands of dollars. They were likely custom-made, too, which meant they wouldn’t be manufactured in time for the party even if they were to be ordered right away.
What about the fireworks…
Aaarghh, damn it!
Beatrice isn’t gonna let me get away with handheld sparklers or black snakes you can buy at a convenience store… Real fireworks must cost tens of thousands of dollars… The count would cover the money, but who the hell is gonna set them up and launch them?! There’s no way an amateur can do it!
I won’t have to worry about notifying the local municipal office or getting a permit to handle explosives since Japanese laws don’t apply in this world. But who in Japan is gonna sell real fireworks to me? Gunpowder is a hazard. Even the smallest mistake could result in a deadly explosion.
And it’s not like you can buy a fireworks firing system at your local electronic appliance store. There’s no chance I can handle this by myself!
What should I do…
“Is something wrong?” Beatrice asked.
“Nope. Nothing at all…”
Crap. Craptacular…
“Huh? You wanna hire us to launch some fireworks?”
“That’s right!”
Mitsuha was visiting a city in Japan known as a hub for fireworks dealers.
There were various types of pyrotechnician businesses in the industry. Some manufactured and launched their own fireworks, while others bought shells from vendors and focused on directing and staging shows. There were some companies that did everything from planning the shows to manufacturing and launching the shells.
The one Mitsuha was visiting today was a small company that handled manufacturing and launching─the hands-on tasks. They operated on minimal staffing, each of whom specialized in a specific role. Pyrotechnicians couldn’t work together without full faith in each other’s skills, as the smallest mistake could cost lives.
The only people you find at companies like these are dyed-in-the-wool pros. People you can trust.
That was why Mitsuha chose a small company over a large one. She also figured that a larger company would have a higher risk of leaking customer data, as the employees would have to report to their bosses and seek permission for every little thing.
Which isn’t a bad thing. That’s how large companies operate. It’s just inconvenient for me.
Thus, Mitsuha was here. She showed up without an appointment and was speaking to an older man who was likely the company president…or manager…or head of the workshop…or all of the above. The tired-looking man did his best to address her with respect, but he was visibly taken aback by her request.
A customer walks into a pyrotechnician’s shop to ask for a fireworks show. Nothing weird about that, right? What did he expect me to do, order ramen? Now that would be surprising.
…Ugh, stop. You don’t have to say it. I know he probably thinks I’m in middle school or high school.
“O-Oh, sorry… It’s been a little slow since the summer ended. That’s our busiest period. I’m always spacin’ out this time of year. So, what exactly brings you here? Do you want to launch some surprise fireworks for your parents’ wedding anniversary or something?
“Our cheapest No. 3 shells are 5,000 yen each, plus labor and installation fees. If you and all your siblings save up money from your part-time jobs, we can fix you up with a set of sixty No. 3s and No. 4s for 200,000 yen. It’s the off-season and we’ve got some time to spare; we can submit all the necessary permits for you. Our project minimum is 100,000 yen, but if you spend over 150,000 yen, we’ll throw in a few No. 5s and a No. 6 for free.”
Japanese fireworks came in a range of sizes. No. 2.5 and No. 3 shells were the cheapest at around 4,000-5,000 yen each, isshakudama or No. 10s (which had a diameter of a little under a thousand feet in full bloom) cost just under 70,000 yen per shell, and nishakudama or No. 20s (which had a diameter of over 1500 feet) cost about 700,000 yen per shell.
It may have been a slow time of year and the workshop owner may have been offering their smallest shells, but sixty for 200,000 yen sounded like a steal. He was even offering some larger ones for free. That charge became even more generous when you considered that his company would also be transporting the fireworks, setting up the firing equipment, and launching them. The whole process required a team of highly qualified staff.