Epilogue: The Mage's First Day in Tokyo

The alley between the two streets suddenly became crowded as the Mage, dropping from the sky and landing on garbage bags, startled the scavenging stray cats. The stench of the bin filled his nose, but he didn't seem to care. He carefully pushed himself away from the slimy rubbish and stepped toward the filtering light, where a scene unfolded that he never could have expected in his wildest dreams. Countless people walked with their eyes glued to their mobile phones, as if some ancient magic had plastered their gaze there. Further away, the roar of cars filled the space. Enormous skyscrapers and neon screens shared the sky. The Mage was reminded of the rift in his own world that had swallowed him whole. He woke up here, in this strange world where he could not sense even a spark of magic.

He stepped into the light. The sun, which in his own world had pleasantly caressed his skin, now assaulted him, as if trying to burn out his eyes. His long, whitening hair and beard swayed reassuringly with the rhythm of his body as he began walking in one direction. The place looked incredibly modern. Ivory Concord, where he was born, was considered modern in its own way, but it was nothing compared to this world. Things that resembled modern carriages moved at an incredible speed along the dark gray, almost black road. He immediately understood that if he wanted to survive his "vacation" here, he must avoid them at all costs.

He looked around the vast square, lost. He didn't know where to begin exploring this new world. He didn't often have free time, and the fact that he had landed in a place where no one could follow him made him slightly happy. He felt like he hadn't truly let go since he was six years old. He wanted to cut loose.

A young man, with black hair covering his forehead and his huge shirt tucked into his trousers, walked straight toward him and spoke. "Hey, You, Tourist? American? Akihabara station that way, desu." The Mage froze. He was stunned by the fact that he could understand another world's language.

"Not America. Where am I now?"

The man looked at him a little strangely at the question, but answered, "In Japan."

He had a map of the world below them, but he didn't know the vast continent was called Japan. The Mage noticed something that looked like a book under the man's arm. His face brightened as he thought of possibly learning about this world from a book written here. He gently reached under the man's arm to examine the writing, respectfully continuing.

"Excuse me, may I?"

The white-haired, old Mage advanced with such an intense gaze that the young man flinched for a moment while awkwardly handing the book to him.

The cover of the book felt soft, almost usable as a pillow. On it was a drawn image of a smiling girl in a skirt. He opened it and playfully began flipping the pages, but a panel depicting a massive, tentacled monster assaulting the girl froze the smile on his face, and he snapped the book shut. He returned it, utterly dismayed, his smile nowhere to be found. Then, bowing profoundly, he hurriedly left the scene to erase the unholy picture from his memory quickly.

He let out the deep breath he had been holding. Fortunately, he didn't see the young man anywhere. He finally had time to look around, and the diversity of the street completely captivated him, although his brain was already starting to shut down from the sensory overload.

His eyes fell on a young woman in a whimsical, frilled black and white knee-length uniform, a perfectly starched white apron, and a vast, lopsided bow perched on her head. Her black hair, tied in a ponytail, gently waved as she swayed seductively. The girl noticed him watching. She smiled broadly with a practiced and radiant expression and skipped right up to the Mage.

"Welcome, Master!"

The wizard stopped as if struck by lightning. "Wh-what did you say?" The name 'Master' reminded him of the red-skinned little girl who always called him that. He was enjoying the freedom he was having, but he regretted not being able to say goodbye to Haku.

The young girl standing before him brought him back to reality as she opened her mouth to speak. "Follow me!"

The old Mage obeyed and followed the girl, hoping for a new experience. The moment the velvet curtain parted, it was as if he had stepped into a completely new world. The air was thick with the scent of sweet pastries and a floral fragrance.

Every surface seemed to be coated in a shade of pink or creamy white. The wall had pink-and-white stripes, like ice cream, with overflowing desserts, and overhead, chandeliers dripped. There were simple white chairs with plush, strawberry-shaped cushions.

A dozen customers sat at small, round tables. They were primarily young men, surrounded by cute girls, but a few tables held pairs of giggling female tourists.

A chorus of high-pitched voices chirped, "Welcome Home, Master!" as the Mage stepped inside. He got a little teary-eyed at this.

As one of the maids presented the menu, a laminated square of pink paper with tasty-looking desserts.

One of the maids placed a heart-shaped parfait in front of the old Mage. He took a spoon, but before he could dig in, the maid next to him began gesticulating with her arm.

"Now, I shall cast the spell to make it delicious!" The maid formed a small heart shape with her palms, closed her eyes, and chanted the words. "Moe Moe Kyun!"

After he finished eating, the maid he had met outside the shop brought over an interesting small box. "Master, how about a photo for a souvenir?"

The Mage didn't understand what the maid wanted to do with him, but he agreed. She stepped forward with service-minded eagerness, showing a V sign with her fingers. Seeing this, the Mage believed he was witnessing the proper greeting of this world. He adopted the straight-faced, high-raised peace sign as his basic posture. The camera flashed, and he groaned painfully, clutching his eyes. He thought he had gone completely blind, but after a few seconds, his vision returned. He didn't understand why people liked such masochistic things. The paper instantly bore the image of himself and the maid posing.

"Master, you had a wonderfully expressive face!"

The maid sweetly smiled as she handed over the picture. The Mage was amazed by the captured memory.

He attempted to leave the establishment, but the maid in the doorway stood in his path with a bloodthirsty glare disguised by a gentle smile.

The Mage was familiar with the essence of service and knew they were now awaiting payment. He did not want to use magic during his stay here, but he deemed this situation an emergency, so using his vast magic power, exquisitely crafted Japanese coins clattered onto the table in front of the maid's nose. The maid's eyes went wide. She watched the satisfied Mage depart, mouth agape, before gingerly picking up the coins.

Leaving the maid café, the Mage found himself at Shibuya Scramble Crossing. A vast, open space, with dozens of cars and an immense number of humans on all sides. The Mage was used to the awfulness of war between Ivory Concord and Ebony Vow, though he never supported it. The humans stood still, like they were waiting for something, like a battle cry. Taking advantage of the still situation, he ran to the center, among the masses of people. He raised both hands high as a sign of peace and not to attack. Suddenly, the pedestrian traffic light turned green, and the human masses moved in every direction, sweeping the unsuspecting Mage away with them.

"We shouldn't fight! I don't know the reason for your fighting spirit, but I assure you that communication is a better solution!" He yelled this and similar sentences to the people who completely ignored him.

He fell onto all fours, gasping for breath. His long white hair fell forward over his face.

"I lost..."

He loved trying new things, but he had no idea what dangerous trials this new world still had in store for him.

Wandering further, he saw a modern building with the word 'Cleanliness' written on it in large letters. The door slid open automatically, and a dazzling light illuminated him. He stepped back, and the door closed in front of him. He stepped closer, and the door opened. He did this a few more times until, with sparkling eyes and utterly fascinated, he walked in. The modernity of the toilet completely mesmerized him. The walls were gleaming white; the whole place was spotless. It was like stepping into a new apartment. However, the complex control panel, covered with numerous buttons and incomprehensible characters, commanded a halt. The Mage had often been told throughout his life how talented and intelligent he was, yet he could not decipher the purpose of the strange buttons. "If you don't know something, you just have to keep trying until you figure it out," he had always told himself, and now he didn't want to back down from his word.

He pressed the button with three wavy lines one below the other, and a blast of hot air shot out from the depths of the toilet bowl. The heat surprised the Mage so much that he slammed against the door with a loud bang. Frightened, the Mage rapidly hammered a button marked with a small pictogram. This time, a jet of water, aimed with unexpected precision, shot from directly beneath the toilet seat, straight into his face.

"So, that's how people here are washing their faces. It's definitely effective..." He wiped his eyes with his hand and wrung the water dripping from his gray beard. The mightiest Mage, trembling with the shame of being soaked and the terror of an attack he hadn't experienced in millennia, reflexively pressed another button on the wall.

A cheerful melody blared at deafening volume into the small, enclosed space. He was given no time to defend himself, subjected to a triple affliction of water jet, hot air, and mysterious sound waves. He desperately attempted to escape, fighting for his dignity and against the Japanese toilet, the single most powerful opponent he had ever faced.