One Friday, after classes in the usual 2-4 classroom...
“Hey, Sousuke. The flea market’s in two days. You’re free, right?” Chidori Kaname asked Sagara Sousuke.
“Flea market?” he replied curiously. “What’s that?”
“It’s like a swap meet. A bazaar. We promised to run a stall, right?”
“Hmm?” Sousuke watched her with sullen expression, tight frown, and precise motions—almost like a soldier. Well... given that he’d grown up in war-torn regions overseas and still served in a military organization, he was, in fact, exactly like a soldier. Then he said, “I thought that was in nine days.”
“Nope. Two days.”
“It’s right here.” Sousuke showed Kaname his student notebook. The Sunday a week from then was circled in red, with Kaname’s handwriting saying, Leave this date free! No missions or operations! “You wrote it so that I wouldn’t forget.”
“Huh? What? Oh, so I did... Weird, I must’ve flaked or something.” She checked the flea market flier again. It was definitely in two days. “Hmm, sorry. Guess I got mixed up. Can you come to the one in two days?”
“I have plans,” he informed her.
“Huh?! But I’m gonna be selling the fifty-issue Golgo set I bought on a whim, and Agatte Nanbo!! by Koike Kazuo, and Akagi, and all kinds of manga it’s gonna seem weird for a high school girl to be selling!” she wailed. “It’s embarrassing! I wanted to pretend they were yours!”
“I don’t entirely understand that, but you seem to only want me there for ulterior motives...” A trail of greasy sweat trickled down Sousuke’s temple.
“Hmm, that’s a problem,” said Kaname. “I know it’s my own fault, but there’s no way you can cancel?”
“Sorry. My plans that day are unbreakable.”
“More soldier work?” she asked, lowering her voice here.
“No, but... it’s very important that I be there,” Sousuke insisted. “I have an event similar to your flea market.”
“Huh?”
“It’s at the Aomi Pier Event Hall,” he continued. “The organizers invited me. It’s far too late for me to cancel.”
“I see... That’s that, then, I guess.”
Indeed, Sousuke ended up not being present at Sunday’s flea market, but Kaname headed to the park in the morning with the other friend she’d invited, Tokiwa Kyoko. They lined up all their unneeded manga and other possessions and sat down to wait. But only about an hour passed before...
“Ah... thank you very much.” To her surprise, their wares were gone in a flash. The owner of a ramen shop that Kaname knew came by and bought all her manga in one swoop. Turning to Kyoko, Kaname said, “One hour in and we’re all sold out...”
“I guess it does happen.” Kyoko, in her coke-bottle glasses and braids, stared at the bundle of thousand-yen bills in shock. “Nothing much to do now... Should we just go home?”
“Hmm... That’s not much fun,” said Kaname, looking at her watch. It was a bit after ten, and customers were only just now arriving in force. She’d left her whole day open, but now she had nothing to do.
“Sagara-kun’s in Aomi, right?”
“Yeah,” said Kaname. “He said he had a ‘similar event’... but he didn’t give me details.”
Kyoko’s eyes began to shine with curiosity. “Let’s check that out, then! I’d love to see what kind of stall he runs!”
“Hmm... It’s true that I’ve got nothing better to do, so I wouldn’t mind looking in... But it’s pretty far away, I think.”
“Hey, no problem there. Let’s go!”
They packed up their remaining items and their picnic blanket and headed for Aomi Pier on the bay.
It took a little under forty minutes by train to get from their flea market venue to Aomi Pier. They tried to call Sousuke in advance but got no response. They decided to get off at the nearest station based on memory alone, but...
“This is... kind of a weird vibe,” Kaname observed.
They were at the coastal monorail station. Even though it was a Sunday, there were few couples or families there, just lots of shady-looking passersby—crowds of men with mohawk haircuts and tattoos, studded leather jackets and ear studs, and dangerous expressions. They were the kind of people you usually only caught a glimpse of here and there in the city, but they were currently loitering around the ticket gate en masse.
The whole thing was like a scene out of some piece of post-apocalyptic fiction, like Fist of the North Star. Some even cackled while they sprayed graffiti on the wall of the stairs. Kaname almost expected to see them slaughtering innocent villagers while crying, “Purge the filth!” until a passing martial artist took them all out with one finger.
There were even more gathered in the shopping area outside the station, blasting earsplitting music and banging their heads.
“What’s with these guys?” she wondered.
“Kana-chan, don’t make eye contact!” Kyoko reminded her as they made their way through the crowd, as tense as could be.
Fortunately, these men didn’t seem connected to the event Sousuke was taking part in. As the girls got further from the station, the shady types thinned out.
“Is it some kind of cult?”
“No idea.”
They walked another ten to fifteen minutes, and ended up taking a number of detours: sometimes finding a bridge closed for construction, sometimes reading the map wrong. But at last, they found their destination. The event hall building stood on an isolated stretch of reclaimed land. Despite being a very impressive event hall, it seemed oddly small, surrounded by empty land and parking lots as it was.
“So he’s in there, right?” Kyoko asked.
“I guess so, but... I’ve been calling him, and he’s not picking up,” Kaname told her. Then she thought, What kind of event is Sousuke actually taking part in? A group of enthusiasts holding something like a flea market on a seaside pier? Kaname couldn’t imagine what shape that might take, but...
“Is it some kind of doujinshi trade show?” Kyoko whispered.
“Dunno,” said Kaname. “Probably a military geek convention. Selling scary military uniforms and knives and such.”
They passed through the unnecessarily large entrance and entered the venue, emerging into an extremely spacious hall several times the size of a school gymnasium. This was clearly the event venue. There were impressive gates set up all around, and the event name was written on the large sign: Eighth Annual Fumoffu Market. And what the girls saw next was...
Lots and lots of Bonta-kuns.
Bonta-kun was a mascot creature somewhere between a dog and a mouse. He had plush fur and large, round eyes, and wore a stylish hat and bowtie. Every step he took made a squeaking sound, and the only things he could say were variations on “fumoffu.”
There were probably over a hundred of them, here in this massive seaside event hall.
“Um... what...” Kyoko began to ask, before trailing off.
“What?” said Kaname. “What is this?”
There were rows and rows of tables, and signs and banners looming everywhere. There were a few hundred booths laid out, and the Bonta-kun participants were buying and selling goods in their fumo-riffic fashion.
A group of five Bonta-kuns had formed a band on the event stage and were playing an up-tempo song. Nearby, some bunny girl-like Bontas were dancing to the music, receiving applause and cheers for their efforts. There were tons of human participants as well, but it was the Bonta-kuns coming and going all over the venue that made the biggest impact.
In addition to the standard yellow type, there were orange ones, blue ones, green ones... Bonta-kuns of every color of the rainbow. Normally, Kaname and Kyoko would have found them all adorable, but seeing them all here at once was more unnerving than it was delightful. And seeing them all here attending some strange convention—it was curiosity alone that kept her from just turning around and walking right out the door.
“Fumoffu! Fumoffu!” A Bonta-kun selling some kind of book at a nearby booth beckoned to them.
“Huh? Wh-What?”
“Fumoffu.” This Bonta-kun was a pale pink color.
The pink Bonta held out a copy of the book, turning the pages with impressive dexterity for such big, squishy paws. It was a color photo book, showing various Bonta-kuns in cool poses.
“I-It is cute, but is there really demand for this kind of thing?” Kaname wondered aloud. Still, it was surprisingly well made. It appeared to be a fan creation, but it looked as good as a commercial work.
“Moffu.”
“You want me to buy it?”
“Moffu. Fumoffu.”
“Um... 1500 yen seems a little pricey,” Kaname observed.
“Fumo... moffuru!”
“You’ll knock it down to 1000? I’ll take it, then. Here.”
“Fumoffu!” The Bonta-kun took Kaname’s thousand-yen note and handed her the photobook with a smile.
Kyoko gazed with envy at Kaname, who was able to communicate and haggle effortlessly. “Kana-chan,” she said, “you speak their language?!”
“Well... I just sorta picked it up, yeah.”
“R-Really...”
They left the photobook booth and began to walk around again. It seemed there was more than just books here. More Bonta-kun goods were being sold at other stalls: B2-sized Bonta-kun posters, Bonta-kun mugs, Bonta-kun towels, Bonta-kun caps, Bonta-kun windbreakers, Bonta-kun undies... There were also hand-sized Bonta-kun figures, pleasant-to-the-touch microfiber plushies, ceramic sculptures, and other such crafts.
“Moffuru!” A Bonta-kun came towards the girls through the crowd. “Fumoffu, fumoffu. Fumo-moffuru!”
It was the “standard-issue” Bonta-kun, with yellow fur and brown spots, wearing a green hat and red bowtie.
“W-What the...” said Kyoko, drawing back defensively.
Meanwhile, Kaname squinted and watched the Bonta-kun carefully. The elbows and other joints showed signs of wear, because it did a lot of crawling. Its ears flopped around more than the others, due to the weight of the internally mounted high-sensitivity microphone and FM antenna. The lay of the fur on its head was unusual, because it frequently wore a helmet instead of a hat. In other words, this Bonta-kun was...