Part 5
I could barely even drag myself to work the next day. My stomach hurt a little, and I didn’t have any appetite. I figured I should at least drink some milk or something, so I opened the refrigerator and snuck a peek. There was some leftover apple pie from last night, made by Mom to celebrate my first ever part-time job. I wouldn’t say it was the best pastry I’ve ever had, but the sweetness was just right for me—something that wasn’t easy to find. The apple pie was definitely a special one, considering how Mom had offered it to Dad’s altar and had it blessed with his love.
It was morning. Mom had already left to work at her family restaurant, so I was the only one at home. That meant I had the option of seeking refuge under my blanket and pretending to have forgotten about work.
But…I can’t do that!
Tears flowed from my eyelids as I savored the sweet-and-sour taste of the apple pie.
Just one more day.
I considered showing up for work one more time to see how it goes. If I could just do that, perhaps the apple pie would forgive me.
*
“You’re late, fumo! Hurry up and get ready!”
Moffle-san shouted at me. All that despite my efforts to suppress my nausea in the bus on the way to work!
At any rate, I rushed to my locker. My costume had been sewn nicely and hung on a hanger. Wearing the costume gave me a refreshing look!
Right after changing, Moffle-san delivered a stream of instructions, making me run here and there to complete the tasks without even giving a breather for me to complain.
There were a few other cast members in Moffle’s Sweet House. The cast members were really chill and relaxed, yet did not receive any scolding from Moffle-san; they just minded their business, even ignoring some of Moffle-san’s instructions altogether.
“Pretty hectic, don’t you think?”
It was right before the park’s opening when one of my fellow part-timers spoke.
“That old man has been really pumped ever since we averted last month’s crisis. He used to be a slacker back then.”
As we spoke, I learned that this part-timer had been working here at Moffle’s Sweet House for about a year. He also mentioned that he was a university student, so it wasn’t surprising that he was going to quit this job and find a better one soon.
However, it didn’t seem like Moffle-san treated them harshly. So why was I receiving such treatment…?
“I’d say it’s because you’ve been making mistakes the whole day yesterday.”
That was something I couldn’t deny. I let out a sigh in displeasure.
Shortly after, it was time to open the park, allowing the guests in. Moffle-san and I stood at the end of the route, waiting to take pictures with the guests who have finished with the attractions. I somehow managed to complete the job—which was the exact same as yesterday’s—scot-free.
The problem came about an hour later, right after we finished dealing with a group of elderly guests.
“All right, time’s up. I’ve got an important meeting to attend, so cover me, fumo.” Moffle-san said.
“What?”
“Come over here, fumo.”
I followed Moffle-san backstage, entering a room filled with props and costumes. There was a set of Moffle-san’s costume lying around, consisting of a furry inner costume; a patissier’s attire; a large, round headpiece; and a chef’s hat.
“Erm, isn’t this…”
“A spare set, fumo. Moffle needs to make an appearance at his Sweet House, so put this on and take pictures with the guests there.”
“O-Okay. B-But…”
What did he meant by that? I guess a theme park was bound to have spare costumes, and although I must admit this costume was rather well-made, it pales in comparison to the one Moffle-san was currently wearing. This one didn’t give off the “Moffle-vibe.”
I was apprehensive about putting on a costume worn by an absolute stranger, but I figured it’d be better to use one with better quality. I mustered the courage and insisted, “E-Erm, may I use your costume instead…?”
Hearing that, Moffle-san frowned (his costume must’ve been really well-made, considering how realistic that expression was!) and turned around, only to realize there was nothing but a wall behind.
“Fumo?”
He pointed at himself and gave a “Huh? Me?” expression.
“Y-Yes… If possible, I’d like to use your costume instead…”
“Ah, mofu…”
Moffle-san nodded, realizing what I meant.
“I can’t take this off, fumo.”
“?”
“Like I said, I can’t take this costume off. There’s nobody inside, after all.”
I didn’t get what he was trying to say. I’ve certainly heard about how theme park staff members would give such statements to young kids, but then again…
“You don’t get it, do you? Sigh…this is such a pain…”
Saying that, Moffle-san opened his mouth and bit my hand. The sensation was completely different from what I’d expected—sharp and moist, instead of soft and cloth-like. Those were certainly his teeth and tongue…!
“Hiiiii…!?”
It wasn’t that painful per se, but it reminded me of the bites I’d gotten from the hamster I kept when I was young.
“Eh? L-Let go of me…!!”
I retracted my hand and backed off to the very corner of the room. Moffle-san did not pursue me further. He snorted, folded his arms, and spat saliva with an omega shaped (ω) expression, as if he’d eaten something unpleasant.
“You get it now, fumo? That’s what I am.”
“T-That’s…sexual harassment…”
“Shut up. That’s the easiest way for me to explain, fumo. Anyway, I’m a magical creature from the magical realm called ‘Maple Land’. I wasn’t particularly trying to hide this or anything, in case you were wondering. Now that you understand, hurry up and get changed, fumo. You have a task to fulfill.”
Saying that, Moffle-san handed me the costume’s head.
*
My hectic day came to an end before I even knew it.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t get the events that happened earlier out of my head. If Moffle-san were a fairy from a magical realm, wouldn’t that mean he was the real “Moffle”? This is bad…
There’s no way the gentle and adorable Moffle I sleep with every night could be that heinous, arrogant, and uncaring Moffle-san!
Furthermore, Moffle-san even said this when he was given donuts for the evening’s refreshments:
“Donuts again, huh… I’m not a fan of sweet things, fumo.”
“H-Huh? But you’re the fairy of sweets, aren’t you? Shouldn’t donuts be your thing?”
“That’s just a public profile, fumo. We collaborated with Señor Donuts once. You know, the donuts chain that’s really popular…”
“Yes. I really like their donuts too.”
“I mentioned to them that I liked their donuts during the campaign, fumo. Ever since then, I’ve been given nothing but donuts during my breaks. Like seriously, are they American policemen or something?”
“E-Erm, if that’s the case, what kind of sweets do you like?”
“Hmm, I’d say salami and dried cuttlefish.”
Weren’t those appetizers, not sweets?
“Ah, talking about food gives me the alcohol craves, fumo. I’m sick and tired of Hoppy. Maybe just for today…some beer…”
“Y-You drink alcohol?”
“Of course. You can say I live to drink, fumo.”
Moffle pulled out a cigarette and lit it up with a cheap lighter. Those were Hope brand cigarettes and were really strong. “Hope” was short for Short Hope, often known as Shoppo in Japan.
But wouldn’t this make him just an ordinary old geezer?
“What’s up with that face, fumo? You think I’m an old geezer?”
“Giku—!?”
“Bingo, huh? I never knew there were people who vocalized the ‘giku—’ sound effect, fumo.”
“B-But aren’t you a fairy!? Shouldn’t you be a role model to the children, giving them hopes and dreams? Isn’t smoking and drinking a little…”
Moffle-san glared at me. He’s really scary at times like this.
“A little?”
“N-Nevermind, sorry.”
Moffle-san, who was sitting beside me, exhaled a breath of smoke with a bitter expression.
“I refrain from such during work, fumo. You might want to save your valuable opinions till you’re able to do your job properly. By the way…”
Moffle-san turned around and observed me.
“Y-Yes?”
“You’ve gotten a lot more talkative, haven’t you?”
“Ah…”
Now that I think of it, Moffle-san was right. I was able to carry out a normal conversation with him today. Strange, it’s hard to imagine that just yesterday I was struggling to even vary my responses.
“Looks like I haven’t been tough enough on you, fumo. Guess I’ll bump up the difficulty for the rest of the day, fumo.”
Part 5
I could barely even drag myself to work the next day. My stomach hurt a little, and I didn’t have any appetite. I figured I should at least drink some milk or something, so I opened the refrigerator and snuck a peek. There was some leftover apple pie from last night, made by Mom to celebrate my first ever part-time job. I wouldn’t say it was the best pastry I’ve ever had, but the sweetness was just right for me—something that wasn’t easy to find. The apple pie was definitely a special one, considering how Mom had offered it to Dad’s altar and had it blessed with his love.
It was morning. Mom had already left to work at her family restaurant, so I was the only one at home. That meant I had the option of seeking refuge under my blanket and pretending to have forgotten about work.
But…I can’t do that!
Tears flowed from my eyelids as I savored the sweet-and-sour taste of the apple pie.
Just one more day.
I considered showing up for work one more time to see how it goes. If I could just do that, perhaps the apple pie would forgive me.
*
“You’re late, fumo! Hurry up and get ready!”
Moffle-san shouted at me. All that despite my efforts to suppress my nausea in the bus on the way to work!
At any rate, I rushed to my locker. My costume had been sewn nicely and hung on a hanger. Wearing the costume gave me a refreshing look!
Right after changing, Moffle-san delivered a stream of instructions, making me run here and there to complete the tasks without even giving a breather for me to complain.
There were a few other cast members in Moffle’s Sweet House. The cast members were really chill and relaxed, yet did not receive any scolding from Moffle-san; they just minded their business, even ignoring some of Moffle-san’s instructions altogether.
“Pretty hectic, don’t you think?”
It was right before the park’s opening when one of my fellow part-timers spoke.
“That old man has been really pumped ever since we averted last month’s crisis. He used to be a slacker back then.”
As we spoke, I learned that this part-timer had been working here at Moffle’s Sweet House for about a year. He also mentioned that he was a university student, so it wasn’t surprising that he was going to quit this job and find a better one soon.
However, it didn’t seem like Moffle-san treated them harshly. So why was I receiving such treatment…?
“I’d say it’s because you’ve been making mistakes the whole day yesterday.”
That was something I couldn’t deny. I let out a sigh in displeasure.
Shortly after, it was time to open the park, allowing the guests in. Moffle-san and I stood at the end of the route, waiting to take pictures with the guests who have finished with the attractions. I somehow managed to complete the job—which was the exact same as yesterday’s—scot-free.
The problem came about an hour later, right after we finished dealing with a group of elderly guests.
“All right, time’s up. I’ve got an important meeting to attend, so cover me, fumo.” Moffle-san said.
“What?”
“Come over here, fumo.”
I followed Moffle-san backstage, entering a room filled with props and costumes. There was a set of Moffle-san’s costume lying around, consisting of a furry inner costume; a patissier’s attire; a large, round headpiece; and a chef’s hat.
“Erm, isn’t this…”
“A spare set, fumo. Moffle needs to make an appearance at his Sweet House, so put this on and take pictures with the guests there.”
“O-Okay. B-But…”
What did he meant by that? I guess a theme park was bound to have spare costumes, and although I must admit this costume was rather well-made, it pales in comparison to the one Moffle-san was currently wearing. This one didn’t give off the “Moffle-vibe.”
I was apprehensive about putting on a costume worn by an absolute stranger, but I figured it’d be better to use one with better quality. I mustered the courage and insisted, “E-Erm, may I use your costume instead…?”
Hearing that, Moffle-san frowned (his costume must’ve been really well-made, considering how realistic that expression was!) and turned around, only to realize there was nothing but a wall behind.
“Fumo?”
He pointed at himself and gave a “Huh? Me?” expression.
“Y-Yes… If possible, I’d like to use your costume instead…”
“Ah, mofu…”
Moffle-san nodded, realizing what I meant.
“I can’t take this off, fumo.”
“?”
“Like I said, I can’t take this costume off. There’s nobody inside, after all.”
I didn’t get what he was trying to say. I’ve certainly heard about how theme park staff members would give such statements to young kids, but then again…
“You don’t get it, do you? Sigh…this is such a pain…”
Saying that, Moffle-san opened his mouth and bit my hand. The sensation was completely different from what I’d expected—sharp and moist, instead of soft and cloth-like. Those were certainly his teeth and tongue…!
“Hiiiii…!?”
It wasn’t that painful per se, but it reminded me of the bites I’d gotten from the hamster I kept when I was young.
“Eh? L-Let go of me…!!”
I retracted my hand and backed off to the very corner of the room. Moffle-san did not pursue me further. He snorted, folded his arms, and spat saliva with an omega shaped (ω) expression, as if he’d eaten something unpleasant.
“You get it now, fumo? That’s what I am.”
“T-That’s…sexual harassment…”
“Shut up. That’s the easiest way for me to explain, fumo. Anyway, I’m a magical creature from the magical realm called ‘Maple Land’. I wasn’t particularly trying to hide this or anything, in case you were wondering. Now that you understand, hurry up and get changed, fumo. You have a task to fulfill.”
Saying that, Moffle-san handed me the costume’s head.
*
My hectic day came to an end before I even knew it.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t get the events that happened earlier out of my head. If Moffle-san were a fairy from a magical realm, wouldn’t that mean he was the real “Moffle”? This is bad…
There’s no way the gentle and adorable Moffle I sleep with every night could be that heinous, arrogant, and uncaring Moffle-san!
Furthermore, Moffle-san even said this when he was given donuts for the evening’s refreshments:
“Donuts again, huh… I’m not a fan of sweet things, fumo.”
“H-Huh? But you’re the fairy of sweets, aren’t you? Shouldn’t donuts be your thing?”
“That’s just a public profile, fumo. We collaborated with Señor Donuts once. You know, the donuts chain that’s really popular…”
“Yes. I really like their donuts too.”
“I mentioned to them that I liked their donuts during the campaign, fumo. Ever since then, I’ve been given nothing but donuts during my breaks. Like seriously, are they American policemen or something?”
“E-Erm, if that’s the case, what kind of sweets do you like?”
“Hmm, I’d say salami and dried cuttlefish.”
Weren’t those appetizers, not sweets?
“Ah, talking about food gives me the alcohol craves, fumo. I’m sick and tired of Hoppy. Maybe just for today…some beer…”
“Y-You drink alcohol?”
“Of course. You can say I live to drink, fumo.”
Moffle pulled out a cigarette and lit it up with a cheap lighter. Those were Hope brand cigarettes and were really strong. “Hope” was short for Short Hope, often known as Shoppo in Japan.
But wouldn’t this make him just an ordinary old geezer?
“What’s up with that face, fumo? You think I’m an old geezer?”
“Giku—!?”
“Bingo, huh? I never knew there were people who vocalized the ‘giku—’ sound effect, fumo.”
“B-But aren’t you a fairy!? Shouldn’t you be a role model to the children, giving them hopes and dreams? Isn’t smoking and drinking a little…”
Moffle-san glared at me. He’s really scary at times like this.
“A little?”
“N-Nevermind, sorry.”
Moffle-san, who was sitting beside me, exhaled a breath of smoke with a bitter expression.
“I refrain from such during work, fumo. You might want to save your valuable opinions till you’re able to do your job properly. By the way…”
Moffle-san turned around and observed me.
“Y-Yes?”
“You’ve gotten a lot more talkative, haven’t you?”
“Ah…”
Now that I think of it, Moffle-san was right. I was able to carry out a normal conversation with him today. Strange, it’s hard to imagine that just yesterday I was struggling to even vary my responses.
“Looks like I haven’t been tough enough on you, fumo. Guess I’ll bump up the difficulty for the rest of the day, fumo.”
