And Friends Happiness Parade -nsp--...: Hello Kitty

“You did it, NSP,” she said softly. “You turned a traffic jam into a Happiness Parade.”

Keroppi, the energetic frog, hopped onto an overturned bucket. “Boom!” He slapped the side.

And the cheer that followed was louder than any truck horn, any float, any firework.

By the time the little parade reached the big intersection, it wasn’t little anymore. HELLO KITTY AND FRIENDS HAPPINESS PARADE -NSP--...

NSP looked up, his whiskers twitching. “No,” he squeaked. “ We did. Happiness is louder when everyone plays.”

The trucks themselves began to rumble. The drivers, seeing the joy, started their engines and carefully rolled aside—not because they were told to, but because they wanted to follow the music.

That’s when a little, squeaky voice piped up. “We don’t need trucks to make a parade.” It was NSP—the tiny, cheerful mouse who loved nothing more than a good beat. He held two little drumsticks made of toothpicks and thimbles. “You did it, NSP,” she said softly

Chococat, using his whiskers like antennae, tied pots and pans to a rolling skateboard. “A rolling drum kit!” he meowed.

“Okay, team,” said Hello Kitty. “We make our own parade. Use anything you can find.”

My Melody shook a rainstick made of a cardboard tube and rice. “Whoooo! Come on, everyone!” And the cheer that followed was louder than

Chika-chika-boom-chick… chika-chika-boom-boom-boom.

Then, NSP began to play a melody. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t fancy. It was a simple, skipping rhythm:

Pompompurin pulled the skateboard of pots and pans, his tail wagging in time. Keroppi drummed his bucket. Cinnamoroll fluttered overhead, the tin-can wind chimes singing.

NSP played one final, soft tap-tap… tap-tap-tap . Then silence.

Bad Badtz-Maru, the grumpy-but-secretly-soft penguin, found a pair of rusty cymbals. He clashed them together with a crash that made even him smile. “Tch. Not bad.”