The regular attendees watched in agony as the three hundred marched off to the site with a grim air about them. Some of the Bonta-kuns embraced their wives or children and seemed hesitant to leave. (This raised the question of what kind of person would engage in a hobby like this while married with children, but it was still a tear-jerking scene.)
“No, no, no freaking way!” Kaname shouted at Sou-Bon as the three hundred marched. “Three hundred of us and thirty thousand of them? That’s a hundred for each of you... It’s impossible!”
“So the math would dictate, yes,” Sou-Bon agreed, nodding fumo-ically. “But with proper strategy, such odds can be overcome.”
“R-Really?”
“Hannibal at Cannae, Philip II at Chaeronea, Napoleon at Austerlitz—this battle could end up joining those in the textbooks, and you will have been a witness to history.”
“Yeah,” Kaname mumbled, “I don’t think that’s gonna happen...”
“I’ve also prepared an ace in the hole,” he told her calmly.
“You’re not allowed to kill them all with napalm grenades.”
“Very well. I’ll scrap that plan.”
“So you really were thinking about it, huh?”
“Now, I must take command. I will return.” Sou-Bon squeaked away.
“It’s nice to have confidence, but can you please try not to get yourselves hurt?!” she called after his retreating yellow form.
As he marched into the distance with his mascot army, Sou-Bon just raised his stubby fumo-fful arm back at her.
The armies stood facing each other across the Terumo Bridge, which was about the size of a basketball court, with two lanes of traffic traveling each way. Enemies swarmed the opposite bank as far as the eye could see. The thugs of the Achsheros fandom jeered at them, waving their dangerous weapons around.
“You wanna fight?”
“Goin’ ‘fumo, fumo’ at us all the damn time!”
“We ain’t gonna back off just ’cause you’re cute!”
Meanwhile, the three hundred Bonta-kuns just formed ranks and stared down the opposing army.
A man who looked like a commander stepped out from the enemy’s masses. “Fools of the Fumoffu Market!” he shouted from the other side of the bridge. “Behold our massive force! Resistance is useless! Drop your weapons now and clear a path at once! If you do, we might just spare your lives!”
“Fumoffu,” Whi-Bon said at the head of their ranks.
“You won’t back off, eh? Excessive courage can be bad for your health!”
“Fumo, fumoffu.”
“Foolish Fumoffu Market!” the commander bellowed scornfully. “That was your last chance to earn mercy. Henceforth, we shall slaughter your entire— Hrk!” The commander suddenly reeled back and collapsed.
Sou-Bon, standing beside Whi-Bon, had thrown a 350 ml can of Afternoon Tea he’d bought from a vending machine in the venue. It had hit the man square in the brow.
“Fumoffu, fumoffu.”
The thirty thousand grew agitated and glared at the three hundred.
“You... You damned mascots!”
“Get ’em!”
No more talk was necessary. The enemy army raised their deadly weapons and charged, unleashing a cry. The sound alone seemed to shake the earth below and sent crackles of electricity through the air.
On the other side of the bridge, the three hundred awaited their orders.
“Moffu! Fumo, fumo!” At Whi-Bon’s order, the Bonta-kuns raised their shields in unison and thrust out their mop spears in front of them.
“Fumoffuru!”
The enemy charged while the three hundred dug in. Within moments, they collided. The Bonta-kun phalanx had spread to cover the width of the bridge, intending to fully deny entrance to the front line of the enemy army. At the point of impact, their fumo-ffully legs braced against the asphalt, but they were still forced back two meters.
Ah, and yet, their line did not break! The mascots held fast against the tidal wave, blocking attacks with trash can lids and counterattacking fiercely with their mop spears. Strikes to the face, chest, solar plexus or privates sent the first line of enemies into retreat.
“Fumoffu!” Blocking the enemy’s strikes with their shields, they vanquished one foe after another. There were Bonta-kuns who couldn’t fully dodge swings from the hooligans’ nail bats, but their thick, sturdy fur minimized the damage they took.
This revealed why Sousuke had only asked for the three hundred suit mascots: even if these Bonta-kun suits didn’t come with military-grade bullet resistance and power assist, they still made for rather sturdy armor. Against hooligans wielding primitive weaponry, it was more than enough defensive power.
Block! Resist! Hold strong!
“Moffuuuu!”
“Erk...”
Knock down the flinching enemy before you, strike them, step forward...
Whi-Bon’s spear broke in two. But Whi-Bon remained calm, unfurled his red cape and jabbed the broken end of the mop into the enemy soldier’s behind. “Hah!”
“Fumoffu!” Sou-Bon, beside him, didn’t flinch either. Pulling out a high-voltage stun baton, he employed dazzling footwork to mow down the enemies before him.
The three hundred had annihilated the first wave of enemies.
However, stepping over their bodies, the second wave soon surged upon them. The front line of Bonta-kuns withdrew and the healthy second line waiting behind them took over. Using their line of shields as a wall, they repelled the enemy’s attacks and continued to counterattack with determination.
The bridge was the only way for the Achsheros Army to advance, and it served as a bottleneck. No matter how large the armies involved were, they could only send the same number of forces to meet at any one time. Even if there were thirty thousand of them...
“Moffu! Fumoffu!” The Bonta-kuns grew bloodthirsty as they waved their spears, clearing out the second wave of attackers and kicking them over the bridge’s railings. The intimidated enemy let out cries of regret as they plunged into the cold sea below.
“Fumo!”
Next! It seemed all three hundred of them cried the same word as the third wave of enemies charged. The third line of Bonta-kuns swapped in and raised their spears and shields in unison.
“Amazing,” Kyoko breathed in disbelief as she watched the battle of the Terumo Bridge from afar. “They’re holding the line.”
A fourth wave. A fifth. A sixth. The three hundred Bonta-kun army tore through the surging enemy ranks, refusing to give up an inch. The tiniest ray of hope had appeared. Was it possible? Those watching the fight began to grow excited for the allied victory.
“Yeah. They’re doing their best, but...” Kaname whispered. But they haven’t even cut the enemy force down by one tenth. Meanwhile, the same three hundred have been fighting all this time. No matter how determined they might be, how long can they really hold out?
While Kaname worried, the three hundred kept fighting.
The infuriated enemy army attempted to drive a truck onto the bridge. Sou-Bon, who only had a few grenades, used one now to blow up the vehicle before it reached the bridge, throwing the enemies around it into panic.
The enemy then dispatched a strange masked force of elites. The three hundred piled up the enemy soldiers they’d beaten, then knocked them over to bury the elite force beneath.
A three-meter-tall monster of a man appeared and attacked Whi-Bon. Whi-Bon had a tough fight against him, but prevailed.
“M... M... Moffuru!” Ally morale was skyrocketing. The Bonta-kuns were meeting everything thrown at them. Yet they couldn’t hide their exhaustion, and more and more Bonta-kuns were being carried to the back lines, injured by the enemy’s nail bats.
A ninth wave came. A tenth. An eleventh. And although they continued bravely repelling the enemy attacks, the Bonta-kun troops were slowly growing tired. And just after ninety minutes into the battle...
“Enough! Surrender!” the enemy commander shouted. It was the man who’d initially been knocked out from Sou-Bon’s Afternoon Tea can, who must have gotten back up at some point. The delinquents currently engaged in battle on Terumo Bridge ceased their fighting at the man’s order as well. “We acknowledge your strength,” he shouted again, “but you must see that you have no path to victory!”
Kaname and the others had to agree.
“F-Fumo...” The Bonta-kuns still capable of fighting were down to maybe a hundred, just thirty percent of their initial number. Their other allies were exhausted, resting limply on the back lines or devouring the yakisoba and takoyaki they’d bought at the stalls.
Meanwhile Achsheros, though greatly depleted, still had an overwhelming force of twenty thousand remaining.
“Fall to your knees and yield to me,” their commander demanded. “If you surrender, we won’t hurt you. We won’t kill your families, either. We’ll rule this pier together. We’ll even give you a portion of the proceeds from Achsheros’s new album!”
The Fumo-ket organizers’ committee surely found this a tempting offer. If they just gave in now, the safety of the participants behind them would be assured, and they’d be free to use Aomi Hall any time next year except for this day.
However... No matter how it was phrased, they’d still effectively be reduced to the other fandom’s slaves.
“Mofu...” Whi-Bon glanced at Sou-Bon.
Sou-Bon fell into deep thought, then shook his head with a faint “Fumo.” It was as if he was saying, “It’s up to you.”
Whi-Bon nodded and looked up to the sky. His button eyes sparkled with sadness, as if looking back on good old days which would never come again. With his battered army behind him, Whi-Bon strode forward alone. As tens of thousands watched on, he came to the center of the bridge and stood there for some time.
It was over. No one could claim that the organizers’ committee hadn’t fought well.
“Ahh...” Kaname breathed, impressed. Fumozawa-san loved this event so much, and yet... It was so sad to see it end like this.
Whi-Bon sank to his knees in despair, showing submission to the enemy. The twenty thousand strong enemy army jeered at him, weapons clanging.
But...
“Fumoffu.” He then stood up silently and slung his arm in the man’s direction.
“Eh? What are you... Ah!” Whi-Bon had thrown a can of Dr. Pepper at the opposition’s commander, which hit him in the forehead and knocked him out again.
“Moffu, fumoffu. Fumoruffu,” Whi-Bon said boldly, slowly straightening up.
Sou-Bon also rushed to his side and beckoned, his paw squeaking. Come at us, villains. We’ll drive you back each time! he seemed to be saying.
“K-Kill ’em!”
Naturally, this enraged the enemy. They charged again with even greater fury than before.
“Ahh!!!” Kaname groaned, while Kyoko covered her eyes.
The enemy covered the entire road. The Bonta-kun army no longer had the strength to stop them. Would their allies simply be trampled? Would they simply let the tens of thousands of hooligans pass and fall on the venue?
“Fumo...” Sou-Bon and Whi-Bon drew back, and began to run. When they reached the end of the Terumo Bridge, they stopped and turned back.
By now, the enemy had reached the center of the bridge, screaming in rage.
“Moffuru,” Sou-Bon said, and handed something to Whi-Bon.
“Fumo,” Whi-Bon said. He’d been handed a detonator, the safety already removed.