“Sniff sniff… so touching…”
As the ending credits rolled, I gently wiped my slightly moist eyes. Still, my male pride kept me from shedding tears openly. If there hadn’t been people around, and if Jiyu and Yumi hadn’t come with me, I definitely would’ve bawled my eyes out.
It was because of the comrade who sacrificed themselves for Lumi, who was fighting the final villain. They didn’t have much screen time, but I’d grown quite attached to them… even though they were only a character in the movie.
Wait, am I the only one sniffling? There were definitely scenes meant to tug at your heartstrings, but no one else seemed moved… They must all be androids without human hearts. Probably have steel hearts instead of real ones.
I sneakily glanced to both sides. Jiyu and Yumi showed no signs of crying. Unbelievable! They don’t have human hearts either!
I was struck by a shocking realization. Maybe I’m the only one in the theater with a human heart? Looking around, there didn’t seem to be any kids tearing up like me. Or maybe they were just holding it in like I was? I didn’t know which it was, but I hoped it was the latter.
It’d be pretty embarrassing if I was the only one getting teary-eyed.
As the ending credits finished, the cookie scene played. It wasn’t much—just Little Magician Lumi appearing and teasing the next movie. My heart raced. This movie was already so fun, and now there’s going to be a sequel?!
I grinned from ear to ear as I started cleaning up the popcorn and cola. The employee had given us way too much popcorn—I couldn’t finish it all by myself. Jiyu and Yumi had left some too. I mean, I get it, but they gave us three large servings! No way we could’ve eaten it all.
I thought it’d be nice to clean up and hand it to the cleaning lady on the way out. Maybe it’d make her job easier.
Jiyu and Yumi stood up and said:
“That was fun!”
“I can see why Hana likes it.”
Hearing that, I smiled brightly. Going to the movies with friends and sharing thoughts about the film is part of the fun, right? Talking about which scenes were cool or which characters you liked is what it’s all about.
But Jiyu and Yumi were different.
“That scene earlier was fun, right, Jiyu? Yumi?”
“It was fun… but kinda childish.”
“I think I would’ve enjoyed it more if I’d seen it two years ago.”
Jiyu and Yumi had different opinions than me. I couldn’t hide my disappointment. Still, at least they thought it was fun. If they’d said it was boring, I’d have been at a loss for words.
After all, I was the one who suggested watching Little Magician Lumi. Jiyu and Yumi had wanted to see something else.
After eating waffles with Jiyu and Yumi, we went our separate ways. I was so hyped up from the movie that I wanted to grab someone and talk about it.
“Boss!”
“Hana!”
Of course, it had to be the boss. I told the boss all about the movie I’d just seen, nestled in their arms. The boss listened with a gentle smile.
But something felt missing. Boss Kim Sehee didn’t know much about movies. Probably because they hadn’t seen it, so there was a limit to how much they could relate. I even thought about taking the boss to see it later. It’d be my second time, but no big deal. Little Magician Lumi’s movie was worth watching twice.
After chatting with the boss, I went back to my room and scrolled through my phone. Maybe I’d find someone online who felt the same way I did.
I googled “Little Magician Lumi,” and a flood of information popped up. They say the internet is an ocean of information, but I didn’t expect this much. Thinking about it, there are all sorts of events online, so of course there’d be info.
One title caught my eye. It was bold and big at the top—impossible to miss. It practically screamed, “Click me!”
[Little Magician Lumi Gallery]
“A gallery?”
It sounded familiar. I’d heard that galleries are places where people discuss specific topics. This one seemed to be all about Little Magician Lumi.
Like I was under a spell, I clicked into the Little Magician Lumi gallery.
———————————————————
Meanwhile, Japan was hit by a massive typhoon, causing enormous damage. There wasn’t a single safe place across the entire country, not even Hokkaido.
The typhoon swept through, leaving no stone unturned.
Some even claimed the damage was greater than the Great East Japan Earthquake. Although the typhoon didn’t linger over Japan all day, it still managed to wreak havoc in that short time.
Still, Japan didn’t completely collapse. Aid poured in from around the world, and support came from various countries. It was like flowers of hope blooming in despair. Of course, repairing the damage would take an enormous effort.
Karasushi’s entrepreneur, Tanaka Kazuhiki, was also busy. He had predicted the typhoon and halted operations at all Karasushi franchise stores nationwide, so there were no casualties. No sane person would make employees work during a super typhoon.
However, with no one to guard the stores, they couldn’t escape damage. Store signs falling was the least of their worries. Countless stores had shattered windows, and some were so badly hit that wind and rain flooded the interiors through the broken glass.
Tanaka Kazuhiki dispatched employees across the country to help with recovery efforts. He personally visited franchise stores to assess the damage and decide on repairs. The Karasushi headquarters was running around like crazy.
Overtime was the norm, and all-nighters weren’t off the table. Headquarters staff worked hard, thinking of the franchise owners who had suffered losses. Thanks to disaster insurance, repairs were manageable, and stores could reopen smoothly.
Two weeks after the typhoon passed, basic city functions were back up and running. In the past, recovering from such damage would’ve taken months, but modern society was different. Even with massive damage, recovery was swift.
Thanks to the hard work of Karasushi’s headquarters staff, most franchise stores were able to reopen.
“Great job, everyone! Let’s skip overtime today and rest up.”
Tanaka Kazuhiki addressed the exhausted staff who had worked tirelessly for two weeks. Pushing them further would’ve been too much. Even with their iron stamina, they couldn’t keep going.
After a restful weekend, the staff returned to their usual duties. Tanaka finally had a chance to catch his breath.
But soon, bad news arrived.
“What? Rice is hard to come by?”
Sushi relies on many ingredients, but if you had to pick the most important, it would probably be rice.
There are many types of fish, so even if one type becomes scarce, sushi restaurants wouldn’t close. There are always other fish. But rice is different. There’s no substitute. Without rice, you can’t make sushi. It’d just be sashimi, and that’s not sushi anymore.
Tanaka urgently mobilized all his connections to assess Japan’s rice market. What he discovered was shocking. Ordinary citizens didn’t know, and it wasn’t on the news. If Tanaka Kazuhiki hadn’t had connections from running a major company, he wouldn’t have found out either.
“Even if rice farms were ruined, how is it that most of the government’s emergency rice reserves are soaked and unusable?”
The typhoon had dealt a massive blow to Japan, and rice was part of the damage. Farms nationwide were ruined, and even the government’s emergency rice reserves weren’t spared.
Coincidentally, the warehouses storing the reserves were undergoing large-scale expansion. The government’s complacent belief that typhoons don’t come in autumn led to this colossal damage. Of course, even with preparations, the typhoon’s sheer power was overwhelming.
