I Hate... All of You...

I leaned back against a concrete pillar, watching Sae struggle with the ticket booth's ancient computer system. At least we weren't holding up any lines because, well, there weren't any.

"Toukawa-chan! Get in here!" Kurumi yanked me into frame, her phone already set to selfie mode.

"Wait, I wasn't ready-" Toukawa-san ducked behind me, but Little Shit sprang to life on Kurumi's shoulder, all too eager for the spotlight. His tail cracked out like a whip, smacking Toukawa-san's hand just as she tried to shield her face. The camera caught her mid-shriek, eyes wide with betrayal.

"Delete that!" She lunged for Kurumi's phone.

"No way! You look cute!" Kurumi danced away, already posting it to our account.

I tuned out their squabbling, taking in the empty park entrance. The giant Seven Flags sign creaked in the wind, half its bulbs burnt out. Weeds pushed through cracks in the pavement where lines of excited visitors should have been.

…which was strange. You'd think people would be flooding in, even with the whole Daimen incident. The world was ending - what better time to blow your savings on fast-passes and overpriced excuses for food? Then again, maybe that was exactly why they weren't.

"Got them." Sae appeared beside me, holding up our tickets.

Up ahead, Kurumi was dragging a loudly protesting Toukawa-san through the turnstiles. Their bickering echoed for a moment before getting swallowed up by the emptiness of the park.

I wanted to follow but my feet wouldn't budge. The last time I stood in this exact spot, Dad had lifted me onto his shoulders so I could see over the crowd. The air had been alive, full of laughter and kids yelling and chasing each other. Now only rust and silence greeted me.

...Will we ever get to come back here, just the two of us?

"Ryūka." Sae's voice cut through my thoughts. "We should catch up."

I nodded, forcing myself back to the present. The turnstile creaked as Sae and I pushed through, Rhino bobbing behind us.

"You're spacing out again!" Kurumi appeared beside me, grabbing my arm. "Come on, we're hitting the Tornado Twister first!"

"Wait, shouldn't we start with something smaller-"

Too late. We were already strapped in, Toukawa-san looking slightly green beside me. The car clicked up the first hill.

"I hate you all," Toukawa-san muttered just before we plunged down.

Little Shit's shriek of terror mixed with our screams as we whipped through loops. His tiny volcanos erupted with each drop, showering the empty seats behind us with sparks.

By the time we stumbled off, my legs were shaking. I grabbed Kurumi's arm before she could drag us to another death trap.

"Kurumi, pause. I appreciate you trying to help me cheer up, but..." I nodded toward Toukawa-san, who was hunched over a trash can, her face a concerning shade of green.

"Oh! Sorry, Toukawa-san!" Kurumi rushed over to rub Toukawa-san's back.

"I hate... all of you..." Toukawa-san groaned between heaves.

Kurumi scanned the park map on her phone. "Oh! How about the house of mirrors? That one should be pretty chill!"

"I... don't think this is a good idea." Of course, that was just because six-year-old me had gotten lost inside and spent two hours crying in front of what turned out to be my own reflection. Dad never let me live that down.

For once, both of Little Shit's eyes focused on me, calling my bluff.

"But Ryū-chaaan, it'll be perfect for photos!"

"Anywhere that doesn't spin," Toukawa-san agreed, finally standing up straight.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Kurumi had already linked arms with me, skipping toward that cursed clown-faced building. Guess I'd find out if childhood trauma had an expiration date.

***

I stepped into the house of mirrors, bracing for that old panic to kick in. But the funhouse didn't feel as suffocating as I remembered. Maybe because I'd grown up, or maybe because the world ending put childhood fears in perspective.

"Look, there's so many Little Shits!" Kurumi's voice bounced off the mirrors as she darted deeper inside, phone ready. Little Shit squeaked in delight and, without a second thought, bolted after her.

I called out to them, but neither looked back. So I wandered into the maze alone, hands in my costume pockets. The mirrors distorted me into countless versions - tall, short, wide, stretched. Then, a familiar figure caught my eye.

"Sae?"

No response. She stood motionless, staring at something I couldn't quite see. I'd never seen her zone out like this before.

I walked closer, careful not to bump into any mirrors. That's when I spotted it - a white crystal about a foot tall. It looked way too fancy to be some forgotten prop piece.

"Rhino, can you break this?"

The balloon bobbed up and down in what looked like a nod before suddenly expanding. In a blink, Rhino's massive form filled the narrow corridor. Its whips lashed out, cleaving off a crystal shard that landed in Sae's waiting palm.

"Sae?" I called out again, louder this time. Money said she'd been aware of me the whole time, but her startled jump said otherwise.

"Ryūka." She quickly pocketed the crystal shard. "You should be enjoying the park with the others."

"What was that about?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with."

I shrugged. If Sae wanted to play secret agent with mysterious crystals, that was her business. I had enough on my plate babysitting Little Shit.

Speaking of which.

"Ryū-chan!" Kurumi burst around the corner, nearly face-planting into a mirror. "You missed it! Little Shit made lots of tiny volcanos!"

"He did what?"

We regrouped outside the house of mirrors, where Toukawa-san was already waiting with Little Shit in her arms, looking distinctly unimpressed even with the scorch marks on her sleeve.

"Your kaiju got scared of his own reflection and tried to fight himself. Three times, to be exact."

At least Little Shit had the decency to look embarrassed.

I reached out and scratched the spot behind his neck scales - the one that always seemed to calm him down. "Hey, it's fine. I once spent two hours crying in front of my reflections."

Little Shit let out a tiny squeak that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Don't get cocky. At least I didn't try to fight myself."

"Ryū-chan~" Kurumi chimed, glancing at her phone. "Didn't you mention the Inky Inferno earlier? Something about riding it with your dad? We can squeeze a ride in before lunch!"

"It's on the other side of the park though," Toukawa-san pointed out.

"Might as well work up an appetite!" Kurumi grabbed Toukawa-san's arm and started marching.

We walked through empty pathways that should have been packed with families and cotton candy vendors. When I was little, Dad used to carry me on his shoulders down these same paths, pointing out every ride we'd tackle next. His excitement made even the longest walks fly by.

"Look, Ryūka! That one spins upside down!" he'd say, as if I couldn't see the rides myself.

Now, it was Kurumi's excited chatter, Toukawa-san's dry remarks, even Sae's quiet presence that filled the air. Different from Dad's laughter, but somehow, they filled that space all the same.

My steps slowed as we got closer to the Inky Inferno. The once-proud octopus mascot hung limp, its tentacles rusted in place. Yellow caution tape wrapped around the entrance like bandages.

A man in overalls trudged past, toolbox in hand. Sae caught his attention.

"Excuse me, is this ride still operational?"

He barked out a laugh. "Lady, I'm the fifth handyman they've called out here. Something's wrong with the machinery, but damned if any of us can figure out what..."

I watched the handyman shuffle away. Kurumi's hand found my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Ryū-chan. I didn't know."

"It's fine. We should probably head to lunch anyway."

"No way! You were looking forward to this." Kurumi grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the entrance despite my protests.

The caution tape snapped under Kurumi's determined march. I wanted to point out we were probably breaking several laws, but the words died in my throat as we got closer.

Cart #4 sat exactly where I remembered. My fingers traced the metal edge, finding the familiar groove where countless hands had gripped in terror. The paint was peeling, but underneath was the same smooth surface that had carried me through dozens of rides.

Suddenly, the cart gave a subtle shudder under my palm.

"Did you feel that?" I asked, but Kurumi wasn't looking at me anymore. Neither was anyone else.

Their faces were turned straight up toward the ride's center pole.

I followed their gaze, tilting my head back until-

Oh.

Perched at the very top, two massive forms twisted together like some nightmarish sculpture. Their tentacles thrashed in perfect sync, dark against the afternoon sky. As I watched, the kaiju's two heads turned toward us in unison.