Strange Tales from Pokomaru-kun's Studio (2)

The little girl introduced herself as Mochizuki Sana, and I led her to the picnic table where Takashi and the rest of the Shinsengumi were waiting. Haruhi walked behind us, visibly confused, but she was sympathetic after I explained the seriousness of little Sana’s plight.

“Where are your parents?”

It was Takashi who asked; clearly, he possessed the same kind of pragmatism as his sister.

She gave us the name of a Kamijousaki City suburb that was nowhere near the theme park. It would have been impossible for her to have reached here without taking advantage of the city’s rapid transit system, but surely this girl wasn’t so precocious as to have come here by herself?

Haruhi’s eyes began to shimmer, as though she could sense a burgeoning mystery on the horizon. “Why don’t you tell us the story from the very beginning, Sana-chan?”

I had every intention of interrupting, thinking that the burden would be too much on the young child and that her recollection would hardly be coherent. To my surprise, however, Sana was able to recount the events leading to our meeting on the teacups with an acute perspicacity.

“I used to come to PokoWorld with my sister every Saturday to see Pokomaru-kun fight Kairian. But she says she’s been too busy to take me these past few weeks, so today, I followed her to see where she was going.”

“A voyeur in the making,” Takashi commented unhelpfully. He was chuckling lightly to himself when his sister elbowed him in the ribs.

“And you definitely saw your sister come into the theme park?” Haruhi asked her.

“No,” Sana admitted unhappily, “but where else could she have gone? I saw her walk up the path leading into the park.”

It had only been a half hour, give or take, since I walked up that path myself and I could recall it quite clearly; indeed, there was no other reason for anybody to use that path unless they were coming to the theme park. It did branch out at some point, but only to separate regular ticketholders (like us), seasonal ticketholders and members of the staff.

In other words, all roads lead to Pokomaru World.

“Actually, aren’t we missing the most important part?” Takashi said, still rubbing his ribs. “Like who’s the creep following her?”

“Kairian, of course,” Haruhi answered.

Sana gaped at her in amazement. “Big sister, how did you know that?!”

“Because he’s eyeballing us right now,” she did not point, but instead nodded vaguely in the distance. “Don’t turn around, Watson, or he’ll get suspicious.”

I had my back turned to whatever it was Haruhi was looking at but Shota, who was sitting beside Haruhi, confirmed her deduction. “That’s the King of Frogs, all right,” he said.

“The King of Frog moniker has been retconned!” The one named Riku corrected him immediately. “He’s known as the Frog Dictator now!”

A debate over Kairian’s place in Pokomaru-kun canon looked set to commence until I ventured to ask a question that would be expected of any reasonable man not familiar with these characters: “Who is Kairian?”

“Pokomaru’s rival,” Hinata, who had kept quiet up until now, told me. “He’s an evil frog who wants to destroy Pokomaru-kun’s monopoly in the green tea industry.”

“They have a show in the theme park every weekend, Watson,” Haruhi took over the explanation, “where Pokomaru-kun squares off against the villainous Kairian. It’s one of the park’s attractions.”

When put in such terms, it really wasn’t all that different from the Super Squadron Rangers shows that I used to attend at my local shopping mall – teenagers dressed up as characters from the show would “fight” another teenager dressed up as the monster of the week.

The show would generally be interactive too, with the heroes only triumphing after getting some encouragement from the audience which, more often than not, consisted entirely of very young children. Yes, I was very familiar with these types of performances.

“You’re telling me if I turn my back, I’ll see a person in a frog costume staring at us?” I asked – there were nods all around.

“We should just tell management one of their staff members is being creepy,” Takashi suggested, but that would have been altogether too simple an approach for us, the New Wave Mystery Society.

“No!” Haruhi almost rattled the picnic table with her fist. “I’m going to solve the mystery myself. Park management can have the flies, but only after I’ve spun the web.”

“We’re just pilfering lines from the Sherlock Holmes stories now?”

“The Five Orange Pips,” she declared proudly. “Now, Watson, come with me. Sana-chan too. Takashi, mind the Shinsengumi.”

After doling out her orders, she stood up and sauntered away. I looked at the others and shrugged, but none of them seemed to be surprised – evidently, they were already used to Haruhi’s eccentricities. Takashi even looked apologetic.

“She’s still calling you Watson, huh?” he sighed, and then added with the slightest of bows. “Well, please put up with my sister’s whims for a little while longer.”

“When there’s a mystery to be solved, Haruhi normally goes off by herself,” Riku said.

“You must be pretty special then, Watson,” Shota commented.

“Are you her boyfriend?” Hinata, not to be outdone by his friends, threw in his two cents as well.

My face flushed crimson, partly from the unexpectedness of the question, but also from the implication. Did we really look like that to other people?

“We’re just in the same club,” I said, and left it at that.

I took Sana’s hand and followed after Haruhi – one of the Shinsengumi members, I couldn’t tell which because it’s difficult differentiating between minor characters, was calling out to me.

“We’ll see you at the stage show in an hour!”

***

Casually, Haruhi had inserted herself into the line for the Poko Poko Bumper cars – being one of the tamer attractions, the line wasn’t as long as the ones for the more popular roller coasters. Surprisingly, the attendants managed to fit all three of us into one of the larger sized cars.

Haruhi insisted on driving, Sana was buckled in next to her in the passenger seat, and I was squeezed in a small aperture located behind the two front seats. Naturally, the car itself was shaped like Pokomaru-kun, or at least something resembling him.

“Damn thing looks like one of those Daimlers from the ‘20s.”

“Language,” Haruhi hushed me. “There’s a child here.”

It’s often been said that you can learn a lot about somebody from the way they drive. This principle, I believe, applies to bumper cars and probably also to any kind of video game that involves driving. Haruhi, for instance, was skilfully dodging the other cars, almost as though she were racking up points on some invisible scoreboard. It showed, I thought, a certain maturity of the mind.

“You’re so good at driving!” Sana shouted at Haruhi through the lively din. “My big sister is always bumping into others…”

“Then she doesn’t understand the nature of this game,” Haruhi replied without turning away from the wheel. “Did you know they were originally called dodger cars? You’re not meant to – argh!”

Another car walloped us on the side, sending us sprawling from the centre of the platform to the very edge; had there not been a pole connecting us to the ceiling, the force would likely have sent us over – fortunately, everyone was wearing their seatbelt. I raised my head to look over at the offender.

It was the fabled Kairian, driving a bumper car modelled after himself. It just had to be him, didn’t it? Having said that, we definitely didn’t see him in the queue just now.

Haruhi reacted angrily and began to reverse the vehicle; as though he had anticipated this, Kairian also began to reverse and soon enough, we were the ones pursuing him through the platform – if he weren’t a stalker of some sort then I might even have enjoyed the chase.

Well, knowing Haruhi, we would be doing a different kind of chasing very soon.

In the operation of electronically powered vehicles modelled after mascot characters, Kairian, or rather the person wearing the Kairian costume, proved to be Haruhi’s equal. Initially, we tried to trap him between other cars so we could give him a taste of his own medicine, but our attempts to do so were thwarted by the frog’s deft driving.

As time ticked on, Haruhi shifted strategy to aggressively trying to rear-end the Frog Dictator’s bumper car, but to no avail – by the time the ride had ended, and the cars no longer operable, we had yet to settle the score.

“Damn frog bastard!” Haruhi slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

“Watch your language,” I said, not without irony, as I edged my way out the backseat of the bumper car. To Sana, I said, “I’m going to have a little chat with this guy.”

Although I’m not a confrontational person by nature, I felt like this was the right place to toe the line. Due to this guy’s actions Sana couldn’t enjoy the theme park, and now it seemed like Haruhi’s day was ruined too.

A stern talking to, and then I’d get a member of staff involved – that was the intention anyway but, as I marched up to the Frog Dictator, a certain brazenness swept over me. Kairian’s back was turned to me as he exited his own bumper car, and I clasped him on the shoulder, perhaps more firmly than I should have.

“Eek!”

The frog emitted an alarmed squall, and I could feel the incongruent, furry touch of the costume as he gripped onto my right forearm; without warning, I was spun onto my back and my vision suddenly became hazy…