Tokyo (AFP)

The Olympic Games mascots are on display in Tokyo as the event approaches, but in a Japan in love with these cute and cuddly characters, they face stiff competition.

In Japan, the birthplace of Hello Kitty and Pokémon, the shimmering colored mascots are often used to put a smiley face on businesses and institutions, whether they are candy makers or prisons.

One of the most popular is a pear-shaped fairy named Funassyi (pronounced "Founachi"), who rose to fame about ten years ago as an unofficial representative of the town of Funabashi (near Tokyo), known for its fruit.

This creature of indefinite genre and lover of rock legends like Aerosmith or Ozzy Osbourne appears regularly in television shows and his Twitter account has nearly 1.4 million subscribers.

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In Japan, "it's normal for adults to love mascots," Funassyi said in his high-pitched voice in an AFP interview, and "the Japanese often tend to personify objects."

Many experts link this love to the animistic traditions of Japan, ascribing a soul including to inanimate objects.

And mascots can bring in a lot of money: the black bear with red cheeks Kumamon, representing the department of Kumamoto (southwest), thus collected the equivalent of 1.3 billion euros last year by leaving of local businesses use its image on their products.

The Funassyi pear is silent on the scale of his juicy business, but his funabashi merchandise store is being stormed daily by fans.

- To let go -

The first of the Olympic mascots was a dachshund named Waldi, designed for the Munich Games in 1972. Since then, all host cities have created their own characters to symbolize the Olympic values ​​and the cultural heritage of the Games.

The ambassador of the Tokyo 2020 Olympics, with pointy ears, big eyes of a manga character and a body covered with a blue checkered pattern, is called Miratoiwa.

And for the Paralympics (August 24-September 5), Someity will be pink, with almond-shaped eyes and equally pointed ears.

Riding on the Japanese love for these creatures, Choko Ohira, 62, opened a school 17 years ago for people wishing to slip into the skin of a mascot.

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These characters "have the power to attract people," said Ms. Ohira, who herself "played" for years a famous mouse on a children's program on the Japanese public broadcaster NHK.

"The children come with big smiles, take their hands and give them a hug," she continues.

She is convinced that in a sometimes rigid Japanese society, mascots give people an opportunity to let go a little.

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Its students first learn, without costume, the gestures of mascots, with ample and exaggerated movements, before putting on disguises of pandas, cats or squirrels.

"In costume, I am more sociable and active," says Nobuko Fujiki, a 61-year-old student.

Mascots don't have a dream life: few make a fortune, and costumes can be heavy, uncomfortable and stuffy in the heat of the Japanese summer.

But for this former nursery employee, the joy of stepping into the skin of a mascot is worth all the discomfort.

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People like to confide in mascots, notes Funassyi.

"They ask me for advice for their life, their work ... how to be nice to a boss you hate" or what to do when her husband is allergic to household chores.

"They want to find in mascots someone who recognizes and appreciates their efforts."

© 2021 AFP