Idol Star System Generation: Season 1

  Chapter IX – Love for the Underdogs

  Following the arbitrarily convoluted and not really clear plan the two created during the break, Operation Free Miwa-Chan for Great Justice was initiated. It had something to do with games, a walk in the park close to Miwa and Naoko’s school, ice-cream, the importance of studying for having a bright future, more ice-cream bribery and a few other hundreds of steps. Luckily the rain that brewed that day had stopped so a walk in a park was feasible, though the skies were still gray. As the two arrived at Tamotsu’s school, however, Naoko had already forgotten half of the plan and Miwa, while remembering it, wasn’t capable of explaining it.

  Seeing the two, Tamotsu’s frown turned into a smile. As he bid the small group around him farewell, the other kids followed the boy against his will to the entrance gate too. Just as he greeted Naoko radiantly before even saying hi to his own sister, the children around started murmuring among them. A curious girl nearby asked intrusively, though as respectfully as she could:

  “Miss? Are you really an idol?”

  With the exception of Miwa, who immediately looked to Tamotsu, all eyes fell on Naoko, who, caught in the middle of a greeting smile to the boy, responded positively in high spirits. She’d already mustered the energy and cheerfulness to talk with Tamotsu anyway, she thought, so might as well keep that up. In awe, the kids observed her like some sort of fascinating dinosaur skeleton or a laser beam generating machine attraction in a museum or something. Slightly fazing. A boy eagerly interrogated as if asking a question to a famous game designer:

  “Tamotsu-Kun told us you play games! That you love to play it! Is it true?” Another boy quickly added, “He told us that you know everything about games!”

  Laughing, Naoko replied in an upbeat voice:

  “It’s true that I love to play games and I know a couple of things about it, though no one knows everything about games. Or about any other thing.”

  “But she knows a lot!” Tamotsu insisted, talking to his peers, “She even knows about the first games that were created! Isn’t it?”

  Naoko had virtually no time to answer that before yet another girl questioned, amazed:

  “Are you Tamotsu’s girlfriend?”

  Miwa and Naoko exchanged baffled looks, and his sister turned a murderous glare to Tamotsu. Naoko, taken aback, immediately responded in a puzzled way due to questioning herself from where that could’ve come from:

  “Huh… no? Absolutely not. I only met him two days ago, and he’s eleven, and he’s my friend’s brother, and I don’t have any boyfriends anyway, and I’ve no interest in… Why would you think that?”

  The group of kids turned caustic countenances to the embarrassed boy. The girl who asked that absurd question accused:

  “She’s not your girlfriend, Tamotsu-Kun! You’re such a liar!”

  Apprehensively looking around to Naoko, who unconsciously crossed her arms and lost her smile, to his wrathful older sister and to his revolting friends who started accusing him and retelling other situations where he fabricated stories, he tensely tried to explain:

  “No, I… I didn’t say that! I said she… that she was… That I liked…”

  “You said that!” one of the girls averred, trying to speak louder than the others and getting agreeing nods from her classmates, “You said she’s your girlfriend and she’s an idol!”

  “No, I didn’t say that! You misunderstood it!” the boy, trembling, tried to contest, though looking lost as to how he’d do that, “I said she is an idol that I knew… and she was… nice and… I… liked her…”

  Suddenly starting to cry, Tamotsu evaded his sister, slipped between the parents that crowded the walkway and ran away through the sidewalk. Miwa, looking desperate, glanced to Naoko and the two left in a hurry. The crying boy was small and couldn’t run fast, but the school gates were also not far from a crossing. If he turned and kept running through the paved path he’d be caught soon enough, but he probably knew that and the only alternative would be to try run past the traffic. Maybe the vehicles prevented his pursuers from following him until the street lights were open for pedestrians. There was no way of telling what he’d do, though. And though the traffic velocity around the school was moderate, fifty or sixty kilometers per hour was still fast enough to make a vehicle driven incautiously throw a kid down the ground and under a tire.

  Miwa shouted for him while hurriedly but politely trying to open a way through the crowd of kids and parents in front of the school, but both she and Naoko were much bigger than the diminutive boy and had difficulties slipping though gaps Tamotsu had no problems passing through. To be polite like Miwa would not solve the matter, though, and Naoko quickly noticed that. If the boy didn’t look so ashamed she’d bet he would not try to run between the cars, but he looked capable of that and his sister, who knew him well, despaired. Not really thinking and getting angry with the parents who just stood still acting surprised, Naoko pushed away whoever stood in her way. Unintentionally hitting her knee on a kid and forcing a tall man with her shoulder, also inadvertently making him tip over the hood of a car parked in front of the gates the girl stormed her way through the screaming crowd and broke free. She’d be in trouble if Tamotsu didn’t try anything dangerous.

  The boy ran while sweeping his tears the six meters that separated him from the crossway, meaning he didn’t pump his run with his arms. The girl, frenetically darting behind him as fast as she could in school shoes, approached the intersection the instant the boy had to choose between turning right and continuing through the sidewalk or going straight and attempting a dangerous crossing. His legs didn’t turn, however, and the boy, evading a street light post, strode into the asphalt right in front of an incoming vehicle just so he didn’t have to slow down or Naoko would grab him. A high-pitched, screeching sound of tires suddenly ceasing to rotate and sliding through the road still wet by the rain mixed with a strident horn broke the relative silence.

  Tamotsu vacillated with the alarming noises, giving his pursuer just enough time to grasp for him. Stretching one arm to the boy and the other to the post, Naoko jumped behind. Her nails and fingers narrowly reached his backpack and clutched its slick fabric while her other arm hugged the tall object affixed to the ground to stop her. From opposing forces, both of her arms suffered impacts from the abrupt brake and the kinetic energy from her body and that of the boy. Her right hand’s pinky and annular, the ones from the hand that grabbed Tamotsu’s school bag, suddenly hurt acutely as her polished nails broke, sending rivulets of blood around.

  Grinding her teeth, Naoko pulled Tamotsu down and back, and both fell partially in the sidewalk. Turning slightly sideways, the white incoming car skid to a full stop right beside them. Behind the vehicle others also stopped abruptly, inches away from one another. From a distance it’s possible to see that the white car, halting about half a meter beyond where the boy would have walked, wouldn’t really have ran over Tamotsu even if Naoko hadn’t intervened, but the boy would’ve been hit by the nearly stopped vehicle and either thrown over the hood or into the asphalt.

  Screaming and crying, Tamotsu tried to free himself from his backpack, but Naoko, in pain and already out of patience, let go of the street post and grabbed one of the boy’s legs, dropping him back to the ground as he tried to stand up. Infuriated, the girl screamed while immobilizing him:

  “Stop being an idiot, you almost just killed yourself, you…!”

  Naoko only stopped short of cursing Tamotsu because she saw Miwa desperately drawing close. Even then, it’d probably make no difference to badmouth that imbecile, because his sister seemed even more choleric than Naoko herself. Only when her friend reached them and firmly held her brother’s arms Naoko was able to let go of him, and just then she actually saw how bad were her cringingly hurting fingers with broken nails.

  Miwa had to apologize to the car drivers and the parents in front of the school for her brother’s attitude and the lengths at which Naoko had to go through to stop
him. Even more ashamed than before, Tamotsu crouched with his back against his school’s wall, shaking and crying while hugging his folded legs and hiding his face between his knees. He stood that way for some time, until his hair was brutally pulled back by Naoko and his face lifted.

  “There! Look what you’ve done!” the raged girl forcefully turned the boy’s head in the direction of his sister, who, bowing deeply, spoke to the car owner. Releasing his hair, Naoko severely stared at him from a stand up position, “You almost killed yourself! You hurt me! You lied to your friend, insulted me saying I was your girlfriend when you’re just an eleven year-old boy I met two days ago, you almost caused a traffic accident among the other cars that would’ve cost your family a lot of money and drivers a lot of trouble and now your sister has to answer for your stupidity to all those people!”

  The boy, crying even more, tried to hide his face again, but Naoko held his hairs even tighter this time and, pushing his skull back, crouched right in front of him with deadly-serious eyes.

  “You’re going there and answer for your own acts,” she ordered him, only then releasing his hair, “You’re going to explain to everyone why you ran away and…”

  The boy started to hide his face again but Naoko instantly stopped him:

  “Don’t you dare turn your face back down again!” Tamotsu, though stopping midway, kept looking down, his somewhat feminine face awash with tears. Noticing her angry orders would only make the boy even more evasive, Naoko sighed. Trying to calm down, the girl resumed with a more serene voice and expression, though still serious, “Listen, Tamotsu-Kun, I understand you liked me and I’m happy with it. You’re also a nice person. However, what you just did was the opposite of a nice thing. How do you think your parents and your sister would feel if you suffered an accident?”

  Crying nonstop, Tamotsu replied with a trembling voice:

  “T-they d-don’t care ab-bout me! N-no one c-cares! M-my p-parents n-never want t-to b-be with us and t-they ord-der m-my s-sister t-to be with m-me! And s-she n-never l-lets me d-do anyt-thing, s-she h-hates m-me!”

  Controlling herself not to hit her knee in his face like she unintentionally did to a kid a few minutes before, Naoko inquired:

  “Look at your sister deeply apologizing in your stead! Your sister who picks you every day in you school and wastes her life away locked in your home just bec…” Breathing deeply, Naoko resumed, “Your sister sacrifices herself a lot for you, and you’re not even able to acknowledge her efforts!”

  “But s-she’s always angry w-with m-me!” Tamotsu replied with a horribly embarrassed face, “Ev-veryone always is! Ev-ven Naok-ko-San is!”

  Naoko though about saying she wasn’t just to console him, but she’s unable to. He didn’t deserve consolation.

  “Of course I am! You made me bleed! You hurt my arms! I could’ve been rammed by a car trying to save you! You lied about me to your friends! How do you expect me to be?! Happy?! Sure I’m angry with you!” Suddenly remembering how she’d acted with Chiasa and Katsuro the night before in the Drama club and how she came to regret all she did, Naoko finally felt part of her rage subside, if only for fear of making new mistakes. Forcing herself to calm down, she added, lying a bit and mixing things up purposefully, “I’m angry, but it doesn’t mean I don’t… sort of… like you. I just… I like you, Tamotsu-Kun, so that’s why I’m angry: because you practically committed suicide just a few minutes ago! I wouldn’t want to see you hurt or dead, that’s why I’m angry with you! It’s as if I like you more than you like yourself!”

  The boy, stopping to tremble, faced her with surprised eyes. His face got suddenly full of wrinkles as it was contorted into an agonizing cry. The boy opened his arms and, jumping over her, hugged Naoko as tight as he could while trying to pronounce “I’m sorry” and “thank you” but failing miserably on both attempts. Naoko, holding his head on her shoulder, felt her angriness appease. She told him while the boy wetted her uniform with tears:

  “I’m not the only one who likes you, either. Your sister loves you infinitely more. She’s always angry with you, like you said, because she could be having fun with her friends, but instead she stays at home all the time just to take care of you! I’ll tell you the truth: she’s the only girl in her class that can’t play with her friends after school because she tells me she needs to be with you all the time. Says she wants to set the best possible example she can to her younger brother. I felt such pity that I suggested she spoke with your parents about finding you a private teacher.”

  Tamotsu leaned away and stared at Naoko with betrayed eyes, while asking “W-why?”

  “Because it’d be good for her and for you,” Naoko explained in a soft voice, “Don’t you like to play with your friends? She likes too! But she’s so intent on setting a perfect example for you that she sacrifices all she likes to do be with you! That’s how much Miwa-Chan loves you! But at the same time, when you’re prohibited to do things you like, don’t you get sad and mad? Well, so does your older sister! She’s usually angry because even though she loves you so much, she also likes to do a few things, and she can’t do the things she like because she stays all the time at her home with you! Look at her! She’s asking others for forgiveness in your stead just so you don’t have to! If she didn’t like you, she wouldn’t even pick you at school every day, much less try to placate furious people so they don’t get mad at you!”

  The boy’s watery eyes gazed his sister in silent contemplation from over Naoko’s shoulder. Naoko was actually exaggerating: no one was furious, not even the car owners or the people Naoko pushed away, just preoccupied with the boy. Even so, the girl opted to make it look bigger than it really was, because if Tamotsu lied to his friends and got himself in so much trouble, Naoko felt it’s justifiable to lie to him too so she could get him out of that mentality of his. Likewise, she found an opportunity to convince him of having private classes just so all that trouble wasn’t for nothing. Also, because she really hoped he’d develop some responsibility quickly before killing himself. She continued to answer the boy’s question, talking some hard truths, though in a soothing and caring voice that made it more agreeable to the kid:

  “And if you had private classes, your sister would be able to do the things she likes and not be angry at you, but she likes you so much she couldn’t even force it upon you to do a thing maybe you disliked. However, it’d be good for you too: you’d learn to be a responsible person! Your parents don’t hate you, and they certainly want to be with you! They just work a lot so you and your sister can have a nice life! That’s another way of loving! But of course they won’t let you be alone at home! You almost just killed yourself right now! You’re the one who makes your parents worry for leaving you alone! It’s not their fault or that of Miwa-Chan, it’s your fault for being unable to prove them you’re a responsible boy who can be alone by yourself! It’s not that your sister don’t let you do anything because she hates you, but because she loves you and is concerned about the things that you can do. You, a boy with no responsibility as far as you demonstrate to others, who lies and causes accidents. Seriously, you can do better than this!”

  Miwa finished talking with the people and turned a worried face to her brother, though with surprise finding him crouched, hugging Naoko and looking in a contemplative and crying way in her direction. Her friend, making a discreet signal for Miwa to wait a moment, concluded:

  “If you’re able to prove it to them, they won’t ask your older sister to be with you all the time, and you’ll be free to do what you want in your home, as long as it’s safe! And private classes are a way of developing responsibility and proving to your parents and to Miwa-Chan you’re reliable! It’s not they who have to let you free, it’s you who need to prove them you can be free without hurting yourself, the others or causing problems. You brought it upon yourself, it’s up to you to take on private classes or whatever and making amends. If you can do it, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to let you be by
yourself, play video games and do what you like in your free time! They love you, after all. They just want you to be safe, and that’s something you have to show them you’re capable of, not the other way around.”

  From behind a cascade of tears, Tamotsu stared his concerned older sister standing close to where he almost suffered the accident. Surrounded by people who watched the scene, Miwa stood frozen, following her friend’s discreet plead to the letter. The boy briefly turned to Naoko with an inquisitive look on his wet and ashamed face, as if asking what to do. In a confident and serene whisper, Naoko told him:

  “Go. Show her some appreciation for all she does for you.”

  Turning back to face Miwa, her young brother hesitated. Looking embarrassed and afraid, he took many seconds to leave Naoko’s arms and stand up. Crestfallen, he glimpsed over to all the spectators and closed his eyes. Walking at first, he ran the last few steps and hugged his sister’s hips, hiding his crying face on her uniform. Miwa, not really knowing if she was surprised, concerned, angry, glad or what, held him too while looking thankful to Naoko. The boy, after rubbing his washed face on her clothes, ashamedly called her to lean close and, hiding his face from the surrounding people, vacillatingly whispered in her ear before going back to crying.

  As she heard whatever the boy whispered, tears filled Miwa’s eyes. The girl, crouching over a knee to be on the same height as her brother, tightened her grip, pulled his head near to hers and closed her eyes, all the water accumulated rolling down at once.

  Standing up nearby, Naoko watched smiling the touching reunion while mentally repeating to herself “Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry”. It’s such a beautiful moment she felt even her frustration disappear. Tamotsu was a problem, but maybe she could find it in her heart to forgive the kid for being a kid. At first her eyes became wet too, but the girl managed to keep strong. All she did was casually rub her fingers around them as if she’s sleepy or something and all the excess water was gone.

  Though the moment she did that, she saw up close her two broken nails, painted red by blood. As if her brain said “Oh yes, forgot about it, thanks for reminding me to turn the pain back on”, her fingers restarted hurting a lot. The girl, cringing and expressing disgust, started crying using the already stockpiled tears. A little due to the pain and a lot because her polished, marvelous nails she liked so much were ruined.

  Scratch what she thought moments before, she’d never forgive that prick! Tamotsu should be happy Naoko didn’t rip all of his fingers off for the crime he committed against her nails!

  Training at the dojo with two broken nails, even though bandaged, was painful, but at least Naoko had an awesome story to tell. She’d not exactly save a boy’s life because she’s pretty sure the accident wouldn’t have been fatal even if the car had hit Tamotsu, but at least she liked to think she prevented a broken bone or an even worse childhood traumatic experience. She also had a bruise from when she fell on the pavement and the school uniform she left at her dorm was in dire need of a washing machine. She had a lot to thank her master and her instructors for training her, and her friends and fellow karatekas for helping her develop her swiftness, reflexes and body conditioning. If she was any slower and she’d not be able to deter the boy before he’s hit, and if she was any weaker the impact on her arms for stopping so abruptly could have injured her. She’s as thankful as their peers were proud of her.

  The only person who didn’t look impressed was that woman who seemed to dislike her. Big surprise. Her eyes were cold and every time someone complimented Naoko for her doings, that ugly sourpuss woman looked even bitterer. Then again, that was to be expected.

  In the locker room the woman, initially asking her casually about the incident, insinuated in a moment she couldn’t get ahold of herself:

  “I noticed everyone looked very proud of you. That’s understandable, that’s quite a feat after all. Only… has Yano-San any proofs of the claims she made about saving that boy? Because a pair of broken nails is not exactly proof of such great deeds.”

  All Naoko’s happiness went to the drain, and all of her stockpiled rage against that idiot was revived in an instant. A faint knot tied up again in her chest as her desire to annihilate that woman with all the anger she’d accumulated boiled. The girl, not in a mood to be bitched around, replied brusquely and abruptly, turning a pointing finger right to the suddenly afraid woman:

  “I don’t need to prove anything about my life to you or anyone else. I know what I did, if you don’t what to believe that’s your problem. Also, this is the third time you’re getting on my nerves. What’s your problem with me? What did I do to you? Well, I gave you far too many chances. If you’re unable to control your mouth, I have no reason to control mine too. Come.”

  Naoko put her clothes back on and left the locker room. Walking to her master, she finally told him about the events that occurred that day and of the other two instances where that woman had also acted with spite against her. One during her first day there, when she made Naoko faint after insinuating her previous master taught on an “average” dojo, and the other when Naoko had a problem with the gang leader Fumio, who threatened her after she’d seen in videos bad-mouthing him and his stupid goons to Daiki in the washhouse. At that time that woman told Naoko she couldn’t expect to barge in other people’s businesses and expect them to take her lightly, meaning the woman told the threats she suffered were justified.

  Even though Naoko had never mentioned those occurrences clearly to Master Ban, he didn’t seem surprised. The woman took some time to come out of the locker room, and though trying to look innocent at first, her face was so filled with terror she soon noticed she couldn’t pretend she didn’t do anything. At least she had some honor to tell the truth in a fearful and sad way once her master asked her if Naoko’s accounts were true. Not that he looked distrustful, though.

  In a calm way, he asked Naoko to leave him alone with the downcast woman. As soon as Naoko left, the old man turned to the pale, terrified female karateka and, calmly, told her:

  “Kurosawa-San, during all those classes since Yano-San arrived I’ve asked you if you wanted to tell me if something was troubling you. You didn’t. Only now someone did it for you, and it’s worse than if you’d done it yourself. The first time, you judged her, made her faint and feel miserable, yet she told me nothing about you. The second one, she’s being threatened, feeling desperate, and you worsened it. Yet still she didn’t tell me anything. This time, she’s sharing her happiness and her victory’s laurels with others, and you put it under suspicion. Now she told me, and as such I’m obligated to see this matter through. I won’t force you to tell me what’s troubling you, but I can’t let that happen again. If you can’t open up with me, I’ll have to find other solution, and I expect you to understand it, Kurosawa-San. So I’ll ask you again: do you have anything troubling you that you want to talk about?”

  Naoko returned to the locker room, only then feeling really alleviated. Her knot had once again disappeared, though at that time Naoko noticed it clearly. Every time that knot inside her chest was felt, she was under heavy pressure, fear or rage and every time she assumed a reactive, cold and efficient mindset where she couldn’t care for others, but could solve her problems exemplarily. Well, at least this time in the dojo she’s able, though at the Drama club, when her problem wasn’t even real – Katsuro never really assaulted her to begin with – there was no possible solution, and she fell into a spiral of bad thinking, exaggerated criticisms and passive-aggressive acts. She’d try to be careful with her thoughts during particularly stressful days.

  Even then, at that time she became radiant for finally being able to call that woman on her irritating, cowardly actions. For once Naoko was glad of her insensitive side, which was usually nasty even for her. It’s unpleasant and reminded Naoko of her constant disputes at her parents’ home, only back at her house it kicked in as soon as she got close to her mother or father, and had to take constant care not to
overdo it. It was so common she hardly noticed it.

  This time, though, it worked like it should. She got cold at the right time, solved the problem and the sensation went away before she could fall down on that spiral that eventually led to cruelty. Sure, not tolerating any frustration was hardly a good thing, but this time Naoko could actually forgive herself. That woman had committed the same mistake three times. Enough was enough. And doing so brought back all of Naoko’s happiness back with interest. Of course, as cool as it’d been to save someone, Naoko still preferred they had employed Operation Free Miwa-Chan for Great Justice. It’d have spared her nails. All in all, though, it had still been a day to cherish.

  About the time Naoko got back to her dorms and was waiting in the laundry for her school uniform and a couple other clothes to be cleaned her cellphone rang. Aratani told her a man claiming to be a journalist from a newspaper said he’s writing an article about a kid being saved by an idol. The reporter mentioned he’d investigated the name of the boy in the school, talked with him and his sister and through them he got Naoko’s name and a few facts about her. They didn’t want to divulge her phone contact, but he found her agency. Aratani didn’t want to let him have her phone number, but accepted to get in contact with her, get the information the journalist wanted and write it back to him. In essence, acting as a press officer for her.

  Her producer asked Naoko briefly about what happened. She explained it, though getting apologetic about having two broken nails because of it. She thought he’d get mad, but Aratani wasn’t too concerned. The only warning he gave her was to take care not to get a serious injury. Even then, he seemed proud of her, and said they could work her nails problem around with gloves during shows and with the magic of photo editing software for ads. Her acts would net her much more visibility than a few nails would, anyway. Aratani asked if she’d accept to answer a few questions the reporter had requested him to do, and Naoko gladly accepted.

  Aratani seized the opportunity to give Naoko an overview about the contact with the press. His first and most important instruction was for the girl to never talk directly with a journalist before consulting her producer. He could provide her with guidance and speak in her stead if possible, preventing traps that could tarnish her image. If a journalist somehow got in contact with her, she was supposed to ask him or her to first speak with her producer and call him immediately. After that, he asked the questions, and while he did so, he gave her a few tips. Short and direct answers were preferred, both because the newsperson’s time until the deadline was usually short and because the more she talked, the more she could fall into pitfalls or say things she’d regret.

  If she did so, Aratani’s tip was to ask the journalist to keep that off the record. Reporters had moral obligations and a code of ethics and conduct to follow, both with the general public and also to the person who provided information. Only the most unscrupulous journalists, a few of cheap tabloids, would not respect an off the record request.

  Of course, since newspersons also had the public interest in mind, particularly important information someone told them in a slip of the tongue would catch their attention. They’d most likely respect the request to keep it off the records, but would investigate it and try to find another informant who confirmed that same data on the record. Still, if Naoko simply committed a mistake with no relevance to the public and asked the reporter to keep it off, he or she would certainly agree. That privilege was not to be abused, but to do it once or twice in an interview, as long as it didn’t purposefully omit important information, was okay.

  On a final and obvious tip, it’s nonsensical to ask in a live interview to keep things off the records. Aratani said he’d train her for performing live interviews once it’s deemed necessary, but until then she should simply avoid it. They’re the most dangerous type of contact she could have with the press, although most of the time, the one with the best rewards.

  Her producer told Naoko he wasn’t expecting to be called by the press so soon and was planning to only go over such details at a later date, but he’s happy about it. After inquiring her the rather simple and straightforward questions, Aratani asked if the boy was okay, just to be sure, and also how Naoko fared. Since they were already talking, he briefly mentioned he’d been on the agency of the twin idols Sakura and Harumi and would be getting paid by the company owner, that old man, to dedicate one hour per week during a few months to help them. It’d be a business consulting side job.

  “I wish you could see the happiness in those girls’ faces when we settled it,” Aratani recalled, “Also, I wanted to make it a surprise, but might as well tell Naoko-Chan now: you’ll have company during your dancing, singing and body language classes this Sunday. After all, we won’t be paying this round, it’s on the old geezer’s tab. Don’t worry about the twins, though, it’s your classes, Naoko-Chan. They’ll just tag along and try to learn something. Poor girls have only been to a few classes on a budget school, had lessons along with many other students and… ah… Well, you’ll be able to talk with them on Sunday, they might tell Naoko-Chan what they told me and more. They desperately need some real help.”

  Naoko was overjoyed to hear about the twins getting some support and showing up next Sunday on her classes. As for her joy about Miwa’s situation, it reached its plenitude even sooner, on the rainy Friday. Naoko had never seen the president so ecstatic. Before classes she called Naoko to talk in private and, bowing very gratefully, she gifted her a box of fine hazelnut-filled chocolates and a bottle of perfume that also had a complex smell with hazelnut traces.

  “I wanted to give Naoko-Chan something useful for her job, but I don’t know your numbers and, thus, couldn’t get you clothes,” Miwa eagerly explained, “And to give you any accessory seemed far too little, so I thought instead about giving you chocolates for your great assistance and sacrifice. Then I found this perfume and had the idea of coupling it with some chocolates made of hazelnuts too! I hope Naoko-Chan is not allergic to it! It’s an extremely unworthy present for you invaluable intervention but please accept it! It’s the least I can do to start repaying what you’ve done for me!”

  “People should seriously stop downplaying amazing gifts! That’s awesome! Much appreciated! Miwa-Chan, you’re the best!” Naoko excitedly thanked her friend and received the gifts. After opening them and happily commenting a little about both, she turned back to the main topic and impatiently asked, “So, what about your brother?! About his private classes?!”

  Miwa opened up a radiant smile that spoke by itself.

  “I almost didn’t even have to ask my parents for it! Tamotsu and I explained what happened, and of course my parents were mortified at first, but my younger brother asked me and them for forgiveness a lot, voiced us many things he said you told him about having responsibility, about deserving our trust to be alone and a couple of other things, and when I started to explain my father and my mother the idea of his private classes he agreed. He told them I deserved some free time and that he’d become responsible through his classes and never commit the same mistakes again. He surprised me with the maturity he showed. I still think he did that to escape being grounded for weeks, but he’s still punished anyway. He won’t be playing video games any time soon, among other things, but he seemed to understand what he’d done and accepted it without debating. And after he went to bed I had a talk with my parents and exposed them my point of view, with the arguments you mentioned. I even showed them that list of private teachers, if for anything, to demonstrate them I was already thinking about that before the incident of yesterday. And guess what?” Miwa’s happiness reached a peak, “Starting next week I’ll have free time from Monday till Friday and my parents will hire someone to be with my brother at least during Saturday! And if my brother behaves well, after some time we’ll try leaving him by himself at home on Sunday! If it works, both he and I are permanently free!”

  The two exhilarated girls commemorated intensely during the entire day. Miwa
still apologized profusely for the trouble and for Naoko’s nails, though, demonstrating great concern about how her friend would present shows like that, but Naoko had already talked with her producer about it. All she needed was a pair of gloves. Not the fingerless ones she had, but a simple one would suffice. Miwa promised to buy her a pair and even though Naoko said it wasn’t necessary, her friend was determined to correct what she thought to be her fault.

  Also, Friday was Physical Education day. The girls were conducted to the swimming pool, and even though Naoko waited for this day for a long time, she’d already debuted her swimming suit before and had to take her bandages off of her two swollen fingers and her broken nails. In order not to let it uneven the girl had unwillingly clipped all others, but she liked to have long nails. That was not how she wanted to look, so at first the girl wasn’t too excited. In fact, she’s embarrassed.

  Her entire class was curious to know what had occurred, and though Naoko was hesitant to tell, Miwa took it upon herself and explained the incident to everyone, both before and during P.E. She even showed her classmates the website of a newspaper in which an article retold the story and presented her, Tamotsu’s and Naoko’s quotes among others. It made Naoko lose her shame of exposing her hurt hand, since most of her classmates were left awestruck by the events and promptly agreed that a pair of broken nails was a small price to pay for saving a kid. The ones who didn’t manifest amazement were expected to do so as well – mainly Shiori, the handsome but standoffish and uninteresting Keiichi and that stupid clown, Sadao. In other words, everyone even remotely expected to be surprised was so.

  After taking off her anklet and changing to her swimsuit Naoko sent the website news to her dojo friends, just in case some stupid woman tried to convince them she was lying, and left the cellphone along with her bag to go to class. The sound of the rain outside increased to a storm, though unlike a few of her colleagues who were afraid of strong winds, Naoko found it soothing. It helped her even more not to think about her embarrassing nails.

  Like every other P.E. class, Naoko stood out even with two hurting fingers, mostly because her peers were, for the most part, clueless slowpokes. It’s nice to discover all the trainings she’d been doing were paying off. What’s more, even though Naoko had already used her swimsuit before, it’s the first time in the year for most other girls, so yet again comments about the prettiness of a few students abounded. Just in case the ironing-board flat Shiori hadn’t already suffered enough being friendless and not attracting any attention to her while Naoko shone bright. Again.

  And to make it worse, the informally second most beautiful girl of the class according to many, Sayuri, as well as the third one, Miwa, also received many praises, both part of Naoko’s “group”. Akiyama Sayuri was a brunette with a simple but beautiful hime, or “princess”, haircut – in its most basic form consisting of an even fringe over the eyebrows and long, straight hair with bangs falling over the breasts. Sayuri sat close to Shiori by the windows. While she certainly wasn’t the closest friend Naoko had, she was one of the many who usually stood close to hear the idol’s funny stories, talk and laugh. In practice, since most of the female students and quite a few male ones did that, chances were that the prettiest girls would be in that big group, while Shiori’s small one would be left in the shadows. It didn’t help, either, that Shiori’s group only had one member. She had little reason to commemorate.

  Since even that semi-Olympic, twenty-five meters long pool only had six lanes, in theory not everyone could be in the water at the same time, but that was circumvented by creativity. The teacher first had the class stand around the pool and reminded them of four primary swimming strokes: front crawl, breaststroke, butterfly stroke and backstroke. After, he instructed the girls to divide themselves in trios according to their surnames and detach a few lane separators so half of the pool was undivided. As the trios were alternately put in the three remaining lanes to practice the strokes, the remaining students were given water polo balls to train tosses and catches.

  Along with Miwa, Sayuri and a couple other girls, Naoko had fun for half an hour tossing balls, splashing water on each other, diving under one another to startle unsuspecting friends and so on. Some girls, like Naoko, finished the stroke training in a blink, while others took forever. Shiori was both a slow swimmer and had no reason to return to the playfield, since she had no one to play with. Each student had to swim one stroke style each twenty-five meters, meaning they had to perform two full laps. It wasn’t too much to ask, but the girl performed it in almost thrice the time Naoko later came to do. Unfortunately the swimming pool wasn’t infinite and sooner or later Shiori had to conclude her sluggish traverse. When she returned to the undivided section of the pool, she grabbed another ball while looking around anxiously before resuming to “play” alone in the most uninterested way ever seen in a person.

  The girl was so good at keeping a low profile that no one noticed her for a long time. Only Naoko did so when she came back from the two lap rush. She was one of the last students to be summoned due to her family name being Yano, one of the last syllables in both syllabaries’ sequences, A-Ka-Sa-Ta-Na-Ha-Ma-Ya-Ra-Wa (and there was also the standalone “N” syllable, but contrary to the Na one, there was no use for it at the beginning of a name or surname). And similar to the two Japanese syllabaries, Hiragana and Katakana, the letter “Y” happened to be second to last in the Roman alphabet used in most Western countries, so not even by other standards was she free from the last few positions unless they took into consideration not her family name, but her actual name, which started with “N”. In Japan, however, that rarely occurred.

  It was also for that reason that Naoko usually sat in the back of the class, since her previous school, like most, divided students according to their surnames. As such, they were aligned following the sequence. First A, I, U, E, O, then Ka, Ki, Ku, Ke, Ko and so on. By the time the list reached Ya, Yu and Yo – one of the two only syllables not covering all five vowel sounds in modern Japanese, the other one being Wa, with Wo being the only usual variant – there were only a few chairs left for Naoko to be assigned to. With time she got used to it and liked the privacy the back of the classroom promoted. Her current school employed the same methodology when possible, but once the chairs were distributed at the first day, new students had to fit in wherever spaces were left, generally by other students previously enrolled but who transferred like Naoko did. The same way the girl left an unoccupied chair on her previous school, someone who sat close to Miwa transferred away, opening up the seat Naoko now occupied even though her surname’s initial syllable, one of the last of the sequence, contrasted with that of those around her, mostly involving the syllables for Na and Ha variants – Horiuchi Miwa being an example.

  As such, Naoko was among the last trio. Only when she finished the two laps and returned to the freestyle zone she noticed Shiori all alone, looking down in the dumps as usual. No matter how much Naoko disliked the timid girl’s attitudes, seeing her sad always generated mixed feelings for unknown reasons. Swimming quickly to Miwa and calling her in private, she pointed out whispering:

  “Miwa-Chan? We’ve been having such a blast so far I just noticed someone who could’ve used some fun, apparently.”

  The class president, on one of the happiest days in her life until then due to the positive aftermath of her younger brother’s incident the previous afternoon, was left unsurprisingly concerned once she found Shiori far away, looking depressed while diving and trying to drag the floating ball with her. Naoko, in a low voice, commented:

  “I think we lost a golden opportunity here to draw her closer.”

  “That was a grave oversight of mine,” Miwa acknowledged with a worried look on her face. Naoko, in turn, corrected, “An oversight of us all. I wonder how much time left we have in class. Maybe we can still invite her to play with us.”

  Nodding, Miwa agreed in high spirits:

  “That’s a good idea! Even if it’s only f
or a few minutes, it’s worth it!”

  The exultant class president departed hastily, but only a few strokes away she’s interrupted by the calling of the teacher. As the two other girls that swum along with Naoko in the last trio finally finished their laps, the coach asked everyone to remove the lane dividers and ready two small goals, one on each side of the around twelve meters width pool so the girls could play water polo during the last fifteen minutes of class.

  “Fine, we’ll call her to play with us next P.E. class! It’s a promise!” Miwa assured to her friend while swimming back. Naoko suggested they got Shiori on their team if they could, but not even that was ultimately possible. The instructor divided the twenty one girls who’ve attended class in two teams, divided in alphabetical order according to the surnames, as usual. And there were a lot of girls with surnames starting with the first few syllables of the syllabary sequence, A, Ka, Sa and Ta, like Akitomi Shiori and Akiyama Sayuri. As such, Horiuchi Miwa and Yano Naoko were names left for the second team. Also, since the two were among the tallest girls and their group got two of the quickest students, Naoko and a girl called Wada Masuyo who was also part of the Swimming club, the teacher left the teams uneven. Eleven students whose surnames started from A to Ta formed the first team while the ten left were assembled in the second one.

  Even then, it wasn’t too hard. Miwa had poor physical condition and reflexes, but being tall she managed to protect the goal well while Naoko and Masuyo scored points one after another. The other girls were not too helpful, but the opponents were also not too much of a problem. Shiori, especially, was so clueless she actually disturbed her own team and unwillingly helped her opponents by preventing her teammates from reaching the ball due to poor positioning, deflecting it in all the wrong directions, unintentionally tossing it to her adversaries when she tried to pass it to her partners and so on. She was left even more miserable than when she played by herself because her teammates criticized her every time the scared girl caught the ball or fled from it just so she didn’t commit any more mistakes, but in doing so allowing her opponents to catch it in her stead.

  In all fairness, Naoko’s team also had one girl who couldn’t keep up with the game, though for other reasons. Yamasaki Kayo was one of the extremely introverted girls Miwa once said that concerned her a bit. The girl, though not as secluded as Shiori, only sporadically tried to mingle with others. Kayo was the only student who had no school bag, just a transparent plastic bag where she stored her textbooks and where she brought a big slice of fish meat with rice wrapped in paper towel, in lack of a lunchbox. She wasn’t a bad player, but felt dizzy during the match and was spared. As such, Naoko’s team lost one player. Still, with Shiori being so awful that she basically played against her own team, the game was not that difficult. The match ended thirteen against six, favorably to Naoko’s team, and that’s only in fifteen minutes.

  When the game was over Shiori was the first one to get out of the pool, amidst a commotion concerning the girl that felt dizzy. Naoko, Miwa, Sayuri, Masuyo and many others, concerned about Kayo, surrounded her to assess what happened. Despite her skin being not that fair, Kayo was pale after fainting. The timid girl was paralyzed when she found herself being the center of the attention and her pale figure got even more so.

  Kayo practically said nothing about what happened and merely told her teacher it wasn’t that uncommon for her to feel lightheaded. The coach mentioned he didn’t remember seeing any medical exams from students on that class labeling them unfit for physical exercises, but just to be sure he’d keep an eye out for her on the next few P.E. classes.

  It took Miwa some time to notice Shiori was nowhere to be found. When she and Naoko returned to the lockers room, there was also no one there. Confused, Miwa risked:

  “I take Shiori-Chan is already gone back to the classroom, right?”

  “No way. Listen closely,” Naoko replied, making a pause afterward. The sound of thunders and howling winds came from outside, “It’s almost a deluge out there. We’re all trapped here for the time being. We’ll find Shiori-Chan by the entrance, no need to hurry.”

  Like always, Shiori was the first to slip away to the lockers room and attempt to get back under the heavy rain and winds to the main building once the class was over. She hated to see laughing people getting together and sharing umbrellas so others didn’t have to go through the trouble of opening theirs. Also, she liked rain. In the Poetry and Literature club she regularly wrote poems about it and texts that alluded to it were some of her favorites.

  Only in her hurry to get away she tried to cross the small gardens that separated the sports facilities and the backdoors of the main school building under strong winds. A powerful gust lifted her small umbrella and forced it sideways. Not only Shiori got exposed to the rain, but her desperate struggle to get ahold of her umbrella bent the fragile object. The girl finally got to the main building soaked, with nothing to shelter her once classes were over if the downpour continued and even more miserable than before. To make it worse, since all her classmates were isolated in the pool and the roofed court areas for almost thirty minutes due to the tempest, the next lessons got delayed, rendering Shiori’s brave efforts useless and leaving the girl forlorn in the otherwise empty classroom. Not that she cared.

  She dried herself up in the restroom with the towel she brought to the P.E. class, but her clothes remained somewhat soggy. For the most part it wasn’t too big of a deal for her, but she couldn’t stand to have dank socks and shoes. No matter how hard she tried, though, it’s no use: even twisting her drenched socks was not enough to completely remove the water. The grey curtain of rain that covered the windows by the side of her seat and hid the city beyond was her only solace. It’s pretty in its own way. It’s not only photogenic, but she also couldn’t see any people through it, which was a godsend by itself.

  The lonely girl by the window was noticed by her classmates as they returned to the classroom once the rain lightened, though most were too concerned for being late to care. Naoko and Miwa, however, were too taken aback by the deplorable state of the melancholic girl to pay no mind. The two exchanged worried looks, and the class president commented:

  “Shiori-Chan looks even more helpless than I thought she would. Naoko-Chan, we should do something. That girl really ran away from everyone under a storm.”

  “Does she hate to be close to the others so much?” Naoko commented, “Well, now we know she’s swift and determined. Let’s meet her once the…” she stopped, looking disappointed, “I forgot I have the Athletics club after class.”

  “Let’s meet her tomorrow, then.” Miwa suggested, though both girls, looking at the inconsolable student by the window, felt she’d need help sooner than that. Naoko stated, “We… can do that, but… Shiori-Chan looks so hopeless… To tell you the truth, if I had any hope the talk would end in five minutes or so I’d gladly meet her once classes were over, even if I got a little late for the Athletics club, but… It’s Shiori-Chan, after all. I’ve no idea how to even approach her, every time I do that in the Drama club she gets so sad and defensive I have no hopes of getting through it in five minutes…”

  The two sat down on their respective chairs with pensive expressions. Suddenly Miwa turned back and telegraphically announced:

  “Naoko-Chan, leave this to me. I’ll try talking to her again when we’re dismissed.”

  A few students seemed to always disappear during breaks, Miwa came to notice. Though Shiori usually didn’t, the girl wearing glasses was always the first to flee from her peers whenever she could once lessons ended. As such, she was careful to pack her textbooks and pencil case back on her bag as soon as classes were over. Thanking Naoko again for her help, the class president left on a rush, trying to remember all she planned to say.

  Shiori stood a few moments watching the weak, constant rain pour down outside the entrance doors. Looking down to her bent, almost unusable umbrella in her hands, the girl sighed. Raising the broken object, she
left the lockers area, starting to tread the damp pavement that connected the main building to the gates. At first one of her shoulders started to get wet by the drizzle due to how messed up her umbrella was, but to her surprise a larger object overshadowed her, giving her shelter.

  A bigger umbrella was held over her by her breathless class president. Panting, Miwa asked for a second to regain her breath and questioned:

  “I urgently need… to start exercising... now that I have… free time. How is Shiori-Chan… able to get away… so quickly when… classes are over?”

  “P-Pre… President H-Horiuchi?!” startled, Shiori whispered. Seeing the beautiful girl nearly twenty centimeters taller than her get close, under the same umbrella, made her freeze. Once she regained her breath Miwa replied:

  “I know we almost never talked before, but we study together for seven years now. There’s no need for formalities, Shiori-Chan. Please call me Miwa, I’d prefer it this way,” Finding the destroyed umbrella the dumbfound girl held, she told her, “We tried looking for you when the Physical Education class was over, but to no avail. So Shiori-Chan really attempted to go back to the classroom under that tempest?”

  Following Miwa’s eyes to the broken umbrella she held, Shiori’s eyes saddened and, briefly hesitating, she nodded. Lowering it and trying to close the object without success, the girl wearing hazy, wetted glasses cautiously questioned with her almost child-like voice spoken softly and shyly as usual:

  “Does Pres… erm, does… Mi… Miwa-Chan… need something?”

  The visage of the short girl looking at her with tense eyes from behind her glasses, clouded by humidity, while holding her broken umbrella with nervous hands was something to pity, but all the while it was also so cute Miwa wanted to hug her. Smiling tenderly, she denied it:

  “No, I don’t need anything, thank you. I do, however, wanted to talk to you. Is Shiori-Chan on a hurry?”

  Looking as if she tried to predict the talk so as to choose between “yes” or “no”, the short girl took a few seconds to timidly say:

  “No. Did… something happen?”

  The way the girl looked surprised and anxious, it’s as if she’s expecting bad news. Miwa, perceiving that, tried to ease her fears with a kindhearted smile even though she was also slightly nervous. She’d thought about what to tell her during any free time she had during classes and wanted it to work.

  “Don’t worry, nothing happened. It’s just that I wanted to… talk.” In her imagination it looked better than that. She pretended to be Naoko talking to others to see how would that friendly girl pierce Shiori’s hard shell, but all she discovered with it was that it’s easier for a cheerful person to make others open up just by being herself and speaking the truth. As such, after being at a loss for words for a few seconds, Miwa, who was radiant to begin with, breathed deeply and played it simple, “In reality, we’ve been itching to call you to join us for quite some time now.”

  “Us?” Shiori repeated, perplexed and very afraid to say that in a way Miwa could hear. In turn, the class president assured:

  “Oh, ah… Yes. “Us”: Naoko-Chan and me.”

  When Shiori heard Naoko’s name her expression got a little sadder even though she tried to make it remain unaltered. Miwa, detecting it, explained:

  “It’s Naoko-Chan who first called my attention to how…” she wanted to say “sad”, but that was far too direct, so she opted to try and circle her way to get to it, “…to how Shiori-Chan seemed a bit lonely. I always knew you’re kind of introverted, so I never really paid too much… ah… attention, but Naoko-Chan, being a new student and not accustomed to our class at the time, quickly told me she found you a little… sad. That she felt bad for you.”

  Shiori was taken aback. She observed around to see if they would go back to school or to the gates, but was unable to move the class president with her without asking for it and looking like she tried to run away. Like such, holding her position no matter how uncomfortable it was to be under the same umbrella with her class president, the girl murmured, looking down:

  “Is… that so? I’m thankful, but… there’s no need to… worry. Though I… don’t know… Me and Yano-San are also part of the Drama club, and… she never told me anything…” Suddenly concerned, she added nervously, “I-I’m not saying Miwa-Chan is making that up! Just that I’ve never thought Yano-San would… want such things, since I’ve never seen her…”

  The girl with glasses stopped uttering things and looked embarrassed. The class president knew Naoko more than once looked concerned for Shiori and had told her about the things that happened in the Drama club. About why she was reticent to join it and how were the meetings, the way the club president looked interested in any help she could get to bring that timid girl out and so on. To see Shiori put that under doubt was not nice of her, though Miwa could forgive the girl for trying to correct her words. Still, perceiving her interlocutor sounded slightly bitter despite her best efforts to cover it, she lost some of the shame to say things directly to that girl. Miwa replied in a way to break the girl’s defenses, the only apparent way to make the conversation flow:

  “Naoko-Chan wanted to invite you to join us during breaks, but she never found a way to do that. In fact, she tells me she thinks you get sadder when she’s around, so Naoko-Chan is always hesitant to talk to you. I remember she told me she kind of wanted to get on the Drama club because that could help her in her job, but because you looked so down when close to her, she decided not to, and only remade her decision because she needed a few extra hours of rehearsing and the school administration told her the Drama club was the only student party that could provide her that. And once she got there, the club president required her to be part of it in order to get some time to use the theater. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have even bothered just so as not to make you look sadder. She had an Athletics club meeting now, but she wanted to talk to you as much as I did. Really, Shiori-Chan, you may not believe me, but we’re both concerned about you.”

  Listening to the class president and recalling the idol’s reluctance to accepting Takumi’s invitation, the long negotiation between Chiasa and Naoko’s producer by cellphone and other situations, Shiori’s eyes gradually turned down to the ground. By that time many students were already leaving, so the two started to slowly walk away too. Watching the raindrops break the puddles’ surfaces, the girl with glasses appeared to be extremely puzzled and embarrassed. In a faint voice, almost impossible to hear amidst the rain, she inquired in a self-deprecating way:

  “But… why would Naoko-Chan… be concerned about me? Oh, and you too, Miwa-Chan. Why? What could you too… possibly want from someone like me to make you worry so?”

  Looking away, to the grayness of the landscape covered by drizzle, the class president thought about it for a while before unsurely attempting to respond:

  “Why wouldn’t we be concerned about you? It’s not a matter of wanting something from you. Wouldn’t Shiori-Chan also want to see a particularly sad-looking person around brighten up? Or help a timid person get close to the others if you could?”

  The way Shiori took a long time to nod, as if the staggered girl had a hard time finding inside her the sympathy to genuinely answer positively to whether or not she would help people got Miwa a bit more concerned. Thinking about it, though, Shiori possibly needed so much help she had no eyes for others. Miwa couldn’t blame the unfortunate girl, she was the same regarding her own brother until last day. Deprived of freedom, she couldn’t feel anything but hatred toward Tamotsu, now she could see it, and to think about helping him just to see her brother happy, without second thoughts, was hard back then. And that’s because he was her brother, not some stranger.

  So as not to put unnecessary strain on Shiori, Miwa continued, speaking from her heart as the two left the gates and started walking aimlessly at the sidewalk:

  “I can’t really explain it. We just want you to be happier. To be with us, join our talks, be friends… I can’t
prove you that we mean it because there’s no way to present our true feelings, just the actions we take based on them, but I can prove you that we tried to make you join us before. We even tried twice to talk to you after P.E. classes but couldn’t find you, and I came to talk to you once because I was concerned, though I admit I was quite invasive. I ask that you forgive me for that. At the time I didn’t know what to say to you.” Pausing, she revealed, “Actually, even though I used our last few classes thinking about it, I still don’t know what to say.”

  Shiori’s ashamed face brightened up as if recalling the only time Miwa asked if she wanted any help eased her mind somehow. She glanced anxiously to her company, and seeing Miwa look distressed, holding an umbrella that sheltered Shiori even though she had no obligation to do so, made the girl’s eyes water from behind her blurred glasses. The ends of her lips, getting a bit shaky, turned upwards in a small but genuine-looking smile that warmed Miwa on the inside.

  “So, where are you going to, Shiori-Chan?” Miwa lightened up the conversation once she noticed her company was unable to say anything, “I’m going to take my younger brother at his school, but if where you’re going is close enough, I can take you there.”

  Almost too moved to talk, Shiori whispered amidst sudden hiccups:

  “No, please. There’s no… *hic*, need, I don’t want to bother you, Mi… *hic*, Miwa-Chan! I usually go to the subway, but… *hic*, you can leave me here, the drizzle is weak and I’m already a little damp to… *hic*, to begin with! Don’t worry, I…”

  “What? I won’t leave Shiori-Chan under the rain!” Miwa protested, “I can take you to the nearest subway station, I think. My brother can wait a few minutes.”

  As the two walked along the streets, Shiori found a convenience store and her eyes sparkled. She hadn’t thought about that before and would’ve probably walked home under her broken umbrella without a problem, but now that she was with her class president it made her want to ease her classmate’s self-imposed task. Relieved, the girl anxiously declared:

  “That konbini! I can buy a new umbrella there! This way Miwa-Chan doesn’t have to burden herself with me! We’re close too, so there’s no need for you to bother crossing the street, I can get there easily!” Halting unexpectedly, the girl bowed far too deeply for someone merely expressing gratitude to a classmate for taking her a few meters under an umbrella, “Thank you, Miwa-Chan!”

  Turning back once she saw Shiori stopping and getting under the drizzle to bow, Miwa quickly sheltered again the timid girl. She’d suddenly become immensely grateful and thoughtful, almost as if Miwa had been the first person in her life to show any kindness toward her. As if Shiori already cared far more for that compassionate person than she did for herself, or as if she’s far too worried to burden Miwa and risk losing her sympathy. For a girl so collected and hard to read like Shiori, that much was uncharacteristically easy to spot. Refusing to let her go, the class president insisted:

  “There’s no way I’d let Shiori-Chan cross under the rain. Like you said, it’s close, it’ll be no hassle to take you there.” Considerately, she added, “Unless you don’t want me around. I can understa…”

  “No! No, nothing like that! I really want Miwa-Chan around, please don’t think otherwise!” With eyes tightly shut Shiori abruptly interrupted her, the very thought of being misunderstood as not wanting Miwa nearby too much to even let her hear the complete sentence before replying.

  Once the panicky girl finished her blind objection and opened again her nervous eyes, she found Miwa facing her surprised. She’d never seen the girl with glasses acting so resolutely. Regardless of the shock, it also filled the already radiant girl with overwhelming happiness, so after she recovered, Miwa smiled beamingly.

  The timid girl, losing her concerned countenance, blushed and embarrassedly lowered her face. The class president, covering her mouth with her free hand, giggled warmly and that put the tense shy girl at rest.

  Cautiously glancing up to her company’s face as if to assess if everything was still okay, Shiori quickly turned her sights back to the wet ground and bashfully smiled back.

  “Thanks again for the invitation!” Rin radiantly replied as the two bid each other farewell, “Rin will talk to Rin’s parents to see if they let Rin watch Naoko-Chan’s show! Rin apologizes in advance if they don’t… but Rin will try her best to convince them! I’ll tell you by tomorrow’s training how it went! Yay, a real show! Thanks-thanks!”

  Leaving Rin once the Athletics club training was over, again in the swimming pool in lieu of the dampened racetracks, Naoko made her way to the theater. As she opened its big doors, she found a single person in the whole auditorium, already sitting and staring blankly at the stage. Chiasa smiled when she saw Naoko, though it’s a tense, polite and not really happy grin. Seeing her, the class president stood up and went talk to her, mentioning:

  “Naoko-Chan, good afternoon. I want to show you something.”

  Changing gears from the lighthearted, joyful laugh-fest it was to be with Rin like always, Naoko remembered she had something to apologize for.

  “Good afternoon! Huh… Chiasa-Senpai? Why are you here?”

  Firmly, the club president replied without getting into details:

  “I told Naoko-Chan I’d watch every rehearsal. I won’t leave you alone.”

  Looking embarrassed, Naoko rested her bag on a nearby chair and took a deep breath.

  “Chiasa-Senpai, I need to apologize for what I did last Wednesday.”

  “No, there’s no need for it, I understand your troubles and you’re righ…” the club president started to dismiss it but Naoko ashamedly maintained her speech, “No, I need. Please listen. I’m sorry for having acted that way during our last meeting. I awaited our next meeting since then just so I could apologize for it. I overreacted. I was… scared by Katsuro-Senpai. His creepy smile scares me in a way I can’t even begin to describe, so when I got here and found he’d joined the Drama club, I got a little paranoid. But…”

  “That’s no paranoia of yours,” Chiasa interrupted gravely, “That boy had many years to join the Drama club and he never did. I know he’s mortally afraid of being in public, especially when presenting something. A mere school project to be exposed in front of the class is enough to make him panic. I found it very strange when he decided to join us, but was happy for it at first. Thinking back, though, he joined us the same day I committed the mistake of talking about your great help to our club to a friend, and he spread the word to our classmates. Perhaps Katsuro-Kun overheard it. And Naoko-Chan was right about fearing something. The more I think about how different, how… hopeful… he was around you, the more I fear he really acts differently with you than he always did. I’m… scared he’s not the boy I always knew when he’s around you. I’m the one who needs to apologize here.”

  Naoko started to worry again after all she heard. It took her a lot of willpower to control her fright and say:

  “Still, I had no right to do what I did to Chiasa-Senpai. And… to be fair, even not to Katsuro-Senpai. I mean, he’s… he seems a little… afraid around me… so I don’t…”

  “There’s no need to be humble here, I can see Naoko-Chan makes Katsuro-Kun and many other boys look far more than just “a little” afraid,” the club president said, “Katsuro-Kun just seems more afraid than others and even more than what’s usual to him, to the point where he sank into his seat whenever you stared down at him.”

  Getting even more ashamed, Naoko agreed:

  “Yes. I know that. I need to apologize to him for that too.”

  “For what? Smiling to him?” Chiasa questioned, and before Naoko could explain herself, the club president revealed, “Don’t bother, that’s not a crime. To be frank, despite petrifying him, you made Katsuro-Kun happier than I’ve ever seen him. Disappointed, but happy nonetheless. After Naoko-Chan left that day, I stood watching him for almost ten minutes in the gates. He’s never one to talk, but that time he did, mentioning it shou
ld be rough for an idol not to be seen walking with a boy and said he’d give you time to get to the dorms and we started to talk. Never mind his naiveté…”

  Scratching her head, Naoko briefly stated while she still had the chance:

  “Chiasa-Senpai probably noticed I did that just so he didn’t follow me, but if there’s anything I can say in my defense is that I didn’t make that up. My producer actually told me to be careful with being seen alone with a boy. It’s a real thing among idols, apparently, and unscrupulous reporters from gossip tabloids can really destroy my reputation if I’m not cautious. The thing is that he told me to be mindful of that only after I become famous, which I’m currently not. So I didn’t lie to him, but yes, I kind of did too…”

  Astonished, the club president was left speechless for a second.

  “Wow, I… didn’t know that. Must… really be tough. Maybe Katsuro-Senpai wasn’t really being as naïve as I though, just noticing things I didn’t. Paired with Naoko-Chan perceiving him to be a threat to you while I took awfully long to do that, it is happening more often than I thought it would. I always took pride in my ability to evaluate the character of people and seeing through lies, but… apparently I’m not as good in it as I thought.” Getting back on topic, she continued, “Anyway. That night he looked very happy. And I don’t mean smiling bigger. I kind of felt some frankness in it as Katsuro-Kun spoke to me. He never speaks to anybody, but he did so. Praised you a lot and said he trusted your ways could really fill a crowd with joy. In a roundabout way, he said he enjoyed your rehearsal a lot, and I believe that much. He’s thrilled, like he’s watching a real show. He’s actually thankful for your smiles and appeals directed to him. So… you don’t need to apologize to him for frightening him or anything.”

  Naoko had to admit Katsuro had some strange ways of twisting facts. So not only he didn’t notice last rehearsal the girl was cruelly picking on him by giving the scared boy too much attention while on stage, but he enjoyed when she posed and sang while staring at him, even though it made him pale and fearful. He’s too naïve for his age – or at least Naoko preferred to think this way than to imagine he actually knew she’s being unkind in a twisted way and liked it – but in a sense, his compliments were heartwarming. Naoko embarrassedly revealed:

  “I knew he looked afraid of me. In a sense, making Katsuro-Senpai look scared of me made me at peace, since I was just as much afraid of him, so I… picked on him during all my rehearsal. And so afraid he was, I believe he’d… not be able to… you know, do anything to me like I originally feared. That’s why I wanted to apologize to him. But it also made me think: if he fears me so much and shows some respect like he did by the gates that night, I imagine… I ought to give him at least a chance, like Chiasa-Senpai asked me to. So that’s why I’m also sorry for not listening to you. I was too frightened at that time to think clearly, I… I’m sorry.” Lowering her voice after bowing, she mentioned, “Chiasa-Senpai granted me the opportunity to rehearse in this incredible theater and helped me so much, and I… did that to you. I’m… very ashamed. Please, there’s no need to lose your time watching me rehearse! I know six hours every week is a lot of time to spend like this, so please don’t feel obliged to do that! I believe in you when you said Katsuro-Senpai is not a threat, or at least I’ll… I’ll… I’ll give him a chance to prove that!”

  For a girl who was known for saying what she was thinking without hesitation, it sure took a lot of bravery for Naoko to admit her own mistakes. Chiasa seemed pleasantly surprised, though. Bowing a little, she retorted:

  “I’m the one who needs to thank you for all you’re doing to the Drama club, Naoko-Chan. Also… thanks for understanding. I’ve been thinking about it too and since Katsuro-Kun looked so respectful and dutiful about you that night while he talked to me by the school gates, I think he’d also accept to leave half an hour or so before the end of the rehearsal. Just due to that same reason of idols not being alone with boys. Even though there’s no way a reporter would break inside of here to snap photos, we can just say other students could get jealous and spread false rumors. I think he’s naïve enough to fall for that. I would not go back on my promise to stay here with you were you not to free me from it, but that’d be one more security measure.”

  The club president’s eyes glowed bright as the girl recalled:

  “Oh, I’d forgotten I still have something I want to show Naoko-Chan! Please follow me!”

  The senior student conducted Naoko to the backstage woman’s restroom and, with a slight bowing gesture, invited Naoko to enter. The girl, getting apprehensive, did so while mentioning she’s not usually too fond of mysteries. Still, when she opened the door a small bell attached to the doorframe rang, immediately announcing someone was coming it. Smiling, Naoko turned on the lights to see the new addition better, and when she did so, the previously dimly lit small ambient was brightened blindly by new sets of lamps. Now not only it was possible to know if someone got in, but the illumination system was fantastical.

  Seeing Naoko look amazed, the cheerful Chiasa explained:

  “It’s a lot of money your agency paid us, so it’s only fair to invest a little bit of it this way. Also now each booth has a lock on the inside. I also put a heavy, wooden-handle plunger on every one, in case someone needs to unclog a toilet bowl or smack a grinning face with it. I got a little paranoid here with the smacking part, but it’s there in any case. If something really happens and there’s no immediate need to club meek boys resembling Katsuro-Kun into submission, though, you can just as well lock yourself up and call for help from relative security. It’s a couple of improvements that benefit us all, too, so it’s totally fine!” On a witty remark, she added while touching her right temple with the index finger, “Just help me tell all the girls not to mention it to the boys, okay? Let’s say I just kinda forgot to improve their restroom like I did to our own… Not that they’d need it anyway, save for the new lights maybe.”

  Rain continued to pour on Saturday, but Naoko was exultant to meet Rin and attempt a new gig. Miwa almost looked happier, though, which was the first thing Naoko pointed out once classes were over. The class president, smiling, invited her to the windows that led to the outside. Naoko looked confused for a while, but complied. Maybe Miwa wanted to talk to Sayuri.

  As she followed her friend, Miwa waved in a politely but friendly manner to Shiori. The shy girl, for the first time packing her bag without hurry, glanced doubtfully to the idol by the side of the class president, but quickly turned back to Miwa and timidly waved back. Taking her bag, the girl wearing glasses hesitantly approached the two. Even if she still looked very anxious, reserved, walked with her head down and stepped carefully, for once the introverted student had a hopeful look in her eyes.

  As Shiori nervously stood in front of the two, Miwa greeted her:

  “Good afternoon, Shiori-Chan!”

  The bashful girl, awkwardly holding her own hands in front of her body, whispered with a shy smile:

  “Good afternoon, Miwa-Chan!” Looking reticently to the dumbfound Naoko, she added, stuttering, “G-Good a-afternoon … Yano-San.”

  Naoko didn’t answer immediately because she was shedding rainbows from her mouth like a waterfall. First she fell on the ground in ecstasy, and then she choked on the rainbows and turned her head sideways. Then the classroom was flooded by rainbows. Only when she snapped out of her amazement did the girl greeted her back, awestruck:

  “G-good afternoon Shiori-Chan!” Suddenly worrying she’d replied on the automatic pilot, she corrected herself, “I mean, Akitomi-San!” Turning back to her cheerful ways, she proceeded, “Please call me Naoko!”

  “Ah… ah… P-please call me by my name too!” Shiori replied, shocked. Seeing Naoko’s eyes sparkle with happiness, the timid girl bowed while apologizing in an extremely low, cute child-like voice, “I… I’m s-sorry for… causing concerns to Miwa-Chan and… and N-Naoko-Chan. Miwa-Chan told me yesterday that… that Naoko-Chan… tried to?
?? to…”

  Shiori had so much difficulty talking there, so afraid and embarrassed she was, that Miwa softly interrupted her to help, happily picking up from where the shy girl halted:

  “I told Shiori-Chan yesterday about how concerned you were about her too, Naoko-Chan. That many times you wanted to invite her to join us, but that Naoko-Chan never knew how to do that since Shiori-Chan always looked so sad and tense when you were nearby.”

  Astounded, Naoko smiled effortlessly to the two and reassured:

  “Oh, you don’t need to be sorry for concerning us! I’m the one who should apologize for never having found a way to talk to Shiori-Chan!”

  Shiori timidly dismissed it, claiming in her shy voice that Naoko found so cute:

  “No, no, I… I also never let… an opening to be approached either. My… older sister always tells me this.”

  Miwa was almost interrupting the streak of apologies of the two when Naoko exclaimed:

  “Oh, Shiori-Chan has an older sister?!”

  “Ah… yes.” The girl affirmed, “An older and a younger one, actually. My… older sister is nineteen, my younger one is fourteen.”

  “And how is it?!” Naoko asked, excitedly. Miwa, seeing Shiori looked a little uncomfortable, mediated the conversation, “Naoko-Chan, by the way you ask it’s as if you’re expecting Shiori-Chan to tell us she has fun every single moment with them. That’s… not how most sibling work in real life.”

  Looking disappointed, Naoko said:

  “Aw… Sorry again, Shiori-Chan. I’m an only daughter, so I sometimes wished to have a sibling imagining how awesome it’d be to play with him or her and talk and… play! And not being the only one scolded in my home! And I recently met a pair of twins that supported each other so much I could only wish I had that kind of company back at home in Shimabara! But… maybe that’s not how things really are most of the time, right?”

  Seeing how excited and starry-eyed Naoko seemed when imagining a perfect life with siblings, Shiori smiled faintly. Letting that question unanswered, the girl mustered the will to ask how was Shimabara, and Naoko started to reply before suddenly remembering she had the Athletics club training to attend. Excusing herself and promising to tell the girl that some other time, she’s almost leaving when Miwa called her.

  Taking a beautifully enveloped package from her bag, the class president gave it to Naoko, explaining to the confused girl and Shiori, just so she wasn’t left envious:

  “Naoko-Chan actually broke two nails because of my younger brother, just to show how siblings can be horrible sometimes. I’m indebted to you for saving him and helping me. And I’m really sorry for you not being able to expose your nails on stage. I told Naoko-Chan I’d buy you a pair of gloves, didn’t I? It’s a very simple and dull pair, but please accept it!”

  Meaning, not a simple and dull pair at all, Naoko discovered it after thanking Miwa on her way out. The gift was actually a stunning pair of elbow-long, faux leather black gloves with three belt-like strappings that could either fasten the arms or be left hanging for embellishment. It also had a zipper, but Naoko would’ve never imagined its purpose without looking at the package. Apparently people folded the opening of the gloves for a stylish look, and it’d not be possible without the zipper. So many fastening systems looked overkill to Naoko otherwise, but she’s surely impressed by its beauty. It also made her think that, unlike Miwa and many others who regularly bought presents for thanking or apologizing, Naoko hadn’t even given a hairpin to Chiasa for showing she’s sorry. In fact, she hardly gave anything to anyone, which was something she would ponder about why…

  …if it wasn’t for the fact that in less than two minutes she’s already having fun with Rin in the Athletics club and conveniently forgetting about dreary self-reflection subjects. Her blond friend was exhilarated with the news she had, that she disclosed it in the lockers room:

  “When Rin asked Rin’s father to be allowed to watch Naoko-Chan’s show, he initially refused to consent. Father-San is very worried about Rin going to places Rin don’t know with people he doesn’t know. He’s very protective. Rin tries to understand him, but Rin was so sad Father-San promised Rin he’d talk with the managers where he works and try to invite Naoko-Chan to make a show for a few employees, and then Rin will be allowed to watch! There are a small number of parties, some for departments that achieved their goals, some to receive a handful of new employees. Every month Rin’s father’s company also makes a party to commemorate the birthday of people born on that month. There are a few people and some parties where Rin’s father works! Rin is confident her father will be able to convince people to let Naoko-Chan present a show at some party! And Rin will watch her first idol show ever! And one of her first few shows ever! What’s even better, with Naoko-Chan! Yay!”

  While not the news Naoko wanted to hear, it wasn’t all that bad either. She found it kind of underwhelming to be invited to a company with “a few people” to make a show for “a few” employees, to quote her friend, but she really wanted Rin to watch a show. The girl looked so excited about it and her father, like Naoko’s, seemed to restrict her so much it was worth it even if she’s to present herself to only a handful of people. The way Rin said they commemorated the birthdays of employees every month made Naoko think there should be at least a few dozen there to justify it, though asking directly at what company her father worked or how many employees it had, as if she’d be evaluating do that gig or not, would be kind of impolite, no matter how easygoing Rin was. Naoko only expected her producer would understand it.

  As if perceiving Naoko was slightly disappointed, though, Rin’s excitement faded a little. The blond girl, getting closer, apologized while inflating puffy cheeks and big, bright eyes in a cute way that she did like nobody:

  “Sorry for not being allowed to watch Naoko-Chan’s show today! But Rin promises it’s only until Rin’s father get to know Naoko-Chan and her producer! Rin will introduce Rin’s father to Naoko-Chan and her producer! Then he’ll see how awesome you are and will be at ease to let Rin watch your other shows! Please forgive Rin for the trouble!”

  Forgetting it after hearing those reassuring words and seeing Rin’s adorable face, Naoko promptly cheered up and freed her friend from her worries:

  “Don’t mention it, it’s no trouble! Aw! Rin-Chan, you’re so cute when you do that face! I have an absolutely uncontrollable urge to pinch your soft cheeks off! Pinch! Pinch! Can I bite them?!” Naoko started to teasing her friend, tickling and pinching her while Rin, laughing breathlessly, got to run away around the locker room, hiding behind other girls and doing whatever it took to evade her pursuer. Naoko, trying to corner the blond girl, ran around for quite a few minutes in that somewhat confined space yelling, “You’re not going to flash your cute, puffy cheeks to me and get away unscathed! Stop right there and receive your pinchment!”

  What made Rin an even better dare for Naoko was that her friend’s skin was unusually sensitive and tickled at the slightest touch. Almost every soft spot she squeezed between her thumbs and index fingers made Rin shiver, flinch and laugh uncontrollably, to the point of shedding tears and gasping for air. When she’s finally cornered and pressed against two walls Naoko also couldn’t stop laughing just from seeing her friend’s amusing reactions. It was indescribably good to nip her to Naoko’s heart’s content. Almost too good, in fact. She only stopped because she’s getting a little too carried away, not for Rin but for the other girls there who were too boring to understand. Actually, it wasn’t quite like that: two or three even giggled seeing the blond student getting tortured by pinches and tickles, but none bothered to join the fun.

  Even after bidding each other goodbye for the time being Rin still coughed due to all the laughs that almost prevented her from breathing for quite a few minutes. The drizzle had become a rain when Naoko returned to her dorm to change as always and also to apply the new perfume Miwa gave her, but the downpour stopped as she rode the train to her agency. As the sun b
roke through the final raindrops, illuminating the expansive city while the skies remained a dark gray, a breathtaking rainbow appeared. Naoko and many of the passengers appreciated its immense and colorful ark reigning supreme over the capital during a good chunk of the trip.

  Running upstairs while her platform boots’ loud steps resonated through the building, Naoko arrived at the office huffing and instructed, exhilarated.

  “Put… a damn… elevator… on this building… dammit! Also, look… at the… rainbow… outside of the… windows, Produ-San! It’s disappearing… but you can… still see… something!”

  While Aratani stood up and opened his way to the windows across the many cardboard boxes and unused furniture that cramped the place, he serenely stated:

  “I was worried to hear thunder after the rain ceased, but thankfully it was just Naoko-Chan climbing the stairs like a rhino. No need to rush, girl… Oh, yes, I can see it! Pretty indeed.”

  Observing it for a moment from the gaps between the neon signboard affixed outside of the windows, he returned to his seat and smiled coolly while turning his computer’s screen to her:

  “First and foremost, I’d like to say this week was outstanding. I take it you read the news about your heroic deeds, right?”

  “My heroic deeds? What….?” Naoko began to inquire, “Oh! About protecting Tamotsu-Kun, the younger brother of my friend Miwa-Chan? Yes, I read it. What of it?”

  “Naoko-Chan read “it” or read “them”?” her producer retorted, “After that initial article on that newspaper, a couple of other articles were written. In a few small websites, mostly. I’ve been clipping what I could find from print sources and saving internet news, but aside from that initial one there was nothing too interesting… until a reporter from the Kirakira Idol Sunday Mag got an interest in it, that is. I’ll ask if you know it just for politeness sake. Do you know it?”

  “Produ-San already knows the answer,” Naoko replied, “All I can think of is that it’s a magazine sold on Sundays that talks about… glittering idols? Really, why bother?”

  “I told you: to be polite,” Aratani snapped, “Very well. Yes, Naoko-Chan is correct. It’s a magazine sold on Sundays about idols. Just don’t think about the “Kirakira” part too much. Yes, this onomatopoeia means “glittering”, but it’s actually the name of the periodical. It’s a famous weekly mag about the idol industry. Since we have no photos of you saving him and Naoko-Chan is still not even a full-fledged idol, it’s not going to receive more than a small box on it, which is a shame. Still, it’s a miracle we’re even able to figure there so soon. It almost never happens for a “Dark class” idol, meaning a girl still in probationary period, to get even a line there.”

  Lifting an eyebrow out of curiosity and surprise, Naoko questioned:

  “If it’s so hard, how did I get it? What did you do, Produ-San?”

  “For once, nothing,” Aratani answered sincerely, leaning back on his chair with a smile and clasping his hands behind his head leisurely, “Well, not really. I did send the news clipping I amassed to every idol-specific communication companies worth mentioning, though I wasn’t expecting anything. We’re lucky there was a good reporter in an important magazine interested in the fact rather than the person. Also, he checked your fan club, and was nothing less than impressed by the number of fans you have.”

  Looking at the counter on the screen as Aratani showed her, three hundred and eighty two, Naoko faced her producer unimpressed.

  “I thought we’d need far more than that to even be considered famous, especially since most of those are my schoolmates.”

  “Just a correction: most of those are actually suit-clad people. But yes, Naoko-Chan is correct from a monetary viewpoint,” Aratani agreed, “We’d be broken if we solely relied on revenue that came from these people. But it’s actually a significant number for a girl in probationary period. Dark class idols, as they’re informally called, aren’t even expected to amass one hundred fans before being promoted to Sea class. That left the reporter impressed.” Sitting straight, the man tried to clarify his statement with another question, “See, what is a fan?”

  Looking sideways, Naoko thought about it but ultimately evaded through a witty answer:

  “Hm. What is a fan? What is a fan indeed? Hm… You’re playing me for fool, right? Hm… Indeed. What is a fan but a miserable pile of secrets? Ah…There’s a catch somewhere, right?” seeing her producer denied it, she finally gave in, “Okay. A fan is a person who likes another person and buys stuff related to the celebrity, cheer for him or her, wants to know more about the one that is supported and so on. Now’s the time you tell me I’m not quite right because, like you did to your Ak-47, the word “fan” is used in a different context here in the idol business, isn’t it?”

  “Why would I?” Aratani asked, “This is not a charade or a school exam. And Naoko-Chan is spot on, a fan is a supporter. Fans buy stuff, watch shows, promote the idol they like and so on. Not every person who buys a product or watches a show is a fan, however. Fans wittingly do those things because they like a person and want to see him or her achieve ever bigger success. Not everyone who is subscribed to your fan club is a fan, but it serves as a parameter to know how well you’re known. It’s only expected an idol to start having a sect of real, diehard fans once she has released her first album, meaning she has at least ten or thirteen copyrighted songs under her belt. Most idols only achieve this once they’re well into the Wood class. Only a few do so while in the Earth, or Soil, class. Fans like to support idols from the start, but it’s getting progressively harder for them to do so due to how the system works. After an idol has a music album she can seriously start raking in the cash with merchandising, royalties and non-ranked shows and shine without singing someone else’s songs. Only then can her character truly be seen by people and fans become a big factor.”

  Showing Naoko her fan club on the screen, Aratani expertly declared:

  “Dark class idols performing on restaurants and private parties for people who are not really interested in becoming a fan, much less subscribing to a fan club, frequently have little opportunities to make fans. But for a girl to have almost four hundred subscribed people on her fan club on her third week as an idol, without already being previously famous, having no supporting big-shots behind, not being the daughter of a celebrity, having no song to call her own and only ever having performed once is huge, I tell you. That reporter saw it too, and once the article is printed, by tomorrow, I’m expecting an increase in your fan page traffic. He knows you’re someone to keep an eye out for. Four hundred subscribed fans, under normal conditions, is what is expected from a recently promoted Sky class idol, meaning you’re two tiers above your league as of now.”

  “So I’m technically a Sky class idol?! Like a girl on my school who took two and a half years to be so, Reiko-Senpai?!” Naoko questioned full of hope, though deep down she already knew the answer her producer would give her.

  “Not without winning cups to increase your rank, no. These numbers don’t come into play until late in the Earth class, when you’re required to have at least three thousand subscribed fans to attempt a cup, or in the Wood class, where you’re expected to have ten thousand fans. From this point onwards the fan count becomes one of the requisites for getting a class promotion, but until then the only two prerequisites are the amount of revenue you generate for I.S.S.G. and how many gigs you’ve performed.”

  Not waiting for Naoko to ask what she looked like she would, Aratani opened a table file on his computer and showed the girl while explaining it:

  “The Idol Star System Generation has a list of prerequisites for an idol to attempt a cup. If there wasn’t, an unknown girl could, in a few weeks and a lot of luck, become a Water class idol if she managed to win all cups somehow. It’d be bad for business to have a girl n one knows about and who generates no money for the company in the Major League, so we need to meet a few criteria before each cup. The Dark to Sea promotion is
the only that don’t require cups. To reach the first real class in the Idol Star System, the Sea class, a “Dark class” idol is just required to have performed at least ten times and at least five of those must’ve been Ranked shows. Furthermore, she’s expected to have generated a measly one million Yen in revenue for I.S.S.G.”

  “One million Yen?!” Naoko exclaimed, “How do they expect an unknown girl to make this sum right from the start?!”

  Keeping a cool expression, her producer replied as if it was no big deal:

  “To be fair, since around fifty percent of the idols compose the informal Dark class, they impose such requirements to weed out girls and agencies unable to keep up with the most basic of expectations.” Hearing Naoko comment it was a cruel thing, he proceeded, “Maybe a little, but this is business, not a charity. Also, in a sense it’s good for the girls too: those who succeed have less competition. Those who are unable to amass a million Yen… really, it’s best for them to go find some other work to do. They have their own taxes to pay and probably need money to live. To waste their time on something that can’t ever pay them back would be bad for them too. Either this or they’re being fooled by their agencies. In both situations, the requirements help them see something is amiss.”

  With a dismissive hand gesture Aratani coolly affirmed:

  “And despite what it looks like, a million Yen is nothing in this kind of business, even for a Dark class idol, as long as she and her agency are at least average. In fact, if we really wanted, we could already pay this amount with what we earned from our contracts. The I.S.S.G. doesn’t specify all this money needs to come from shows: at the beginning, modeling is a very good option to raise money. Later, royalties and merchandising usually surpass the revenue generated by gigs too, so there’s no problem here. We’re not expected to pay I.S.S.G. a share of any income other than that from Ranked exhibitions, but we can if we want. Right now it’d be nonsense, because we still have to make you perform nine more times, so there’s plenty of time to go, but hey, it’s an option.”

  The girl was left flabbergasted. Confused, she asked for clarification:

  “Wait, we… I still have to go through nine more auditions… or to actually perform nine more times? Like… rank among the winners and such?”

  “Perform,” Aratani simply replied, “If you go through one hundred auditions and not qualify on any, you’re still at zero on this counter.”

  “But… but then…! So that’s why Reiko-Senpai took two years and a half to reach Sky class?! But it’s hard to…!” Naoko started to mutter, but her producer gently calmed her, “Relax, Naoko-Chan, it’s not as tough as it sounds. First of all, like I previously said, we only need to perform five Ranked presentations to reach Sea class. The other five can be unranked ones. And though generally they cost a lot of money to produce, guess what? A Non-Ranked gig is merely any show authorized by I.S.S.G. where an idol gets visibility and receives something material – even if it’s food to donate. And it just so happen that, with almost six hundred seats at your school theater, I got a permission from the higher-ups to qualify the show you’ll present there as a Non-Ranked one. So we’ve yet another notch on your idol card and only eight gigs to go.”

  In only a split-second Naoko realized how well-played it’d been.

  “Wait… Produ-San accepted that I performed a charity-raising show at my school because of it?! That’s very well thought, Produ-San!”

  “Well, not only because of it, since charity is nice and is always a good thing for your image like I already said, but… Yes, a little because of it too.” Aratani revealed, “Don’t be discouraged if those eight remaining shows take quite some time to happen, though. Usually an idol who is also a student and attempt a show every weekend take between ten months and one year and a half to fulfill the show requirement for a Sea class promotion.” Before Naoko started to scream, Aratani quickly added, “But then again, that’s saying they had between three and six months of training beforehand! And also there are student idols who manage to do this in four months once they start presenting themselves! It depends, and Naoko is already at an advantage with a gig completed in her third week! So don’t fret too much. Like I said, around fifty percent of the idols are Dark class ones and quite a few of them have very little chance of posing a threat. You saw that on your first audition. Right now we can count on the lack of stage experience of them to paralyze those girls. As long as you keep calm, it’ll be okay. Really. Also…”

  “Also?” the concerned girl repeated.

  “Also, when I say “ten shows”, that’s not technically correct,” her producer explicated, “In reality what you need are ten show stars. Each gig is awarded between one and five stars according to the complexity, number of spectators and such. One star means a tiny show, two is a small one, then a medium-sized, big and finally a huge one. Since a two star, small show requires three thousand spectators and a three star gig, fifteen thousand, currently all presentations you can make will only be worth one star, but in the future this number will skyrocket.”

  “How many spectators are required for a five star show?!” Naoko curiously inquired, losing all her worries. Aratani, looking lost, admitted, “I don’t recall exactly, I’m not focusing on it right now. All I know is that four stars shows require around two thirds of the Sun Dome filled, that place we watched that show, to be achieved. As far as I’m aware no dome or stadium in the world can receive the required amount of people for a five star show. It’s only achieved through television broadcasts, internet streams and so on. But since many Water and Metal-class idols’ shows are broadcasted, they end up being worth more stars than the in loco audience suggests.”

  Seeing Naoko finally back to her typical carefree mood, her producer quickly changed subjects, gifting her two pairs of small gloves just a little past wrist line. One pair was black and the other, white. They were very simple and the natural fibers of the fabric made for light and fresh, springtime-friendly garments, but a few dent-like decorations on the opening for each hand granted them a much more fashionable look than they would otherwise.

  After testing both pairs and thanking her producer, Naoko told him Miwa had also given her a pair of gloves to hide her broken nails, and describing it left Aratani very pleased with the aesthetical qualities of it and with how thoughtful her friend was.

  Taking a peek at his watch, Aratani told her:

  “I hate to interrupt the fun, but we have that audition Naoko-Chan asked me to sign her in approaching, and I’ve yet to explain the last two categories: Devotion and Memorability. Last time your score was only not even better because I’ve not taught you of those two, and I intend not to repeat the same mistake. So let’s get down to business.”