Idol Star System Generation: Season 1

  Chapter I – Led by Mirages

  Truth be told, her liking for Aratani grew quickly. They had a lot in common: both were easygoing and fun-loving, even though at first glance she seemed energetic as a power plant and he, a polar opposite, was chill as winter. Both were also very responsible when needed.

  Of course, at first she was skeptical and took all the necessary precautions. After getting on her uncle’s house she explained the situation, and her cousin searched for his credentials while the burnt out girl went to the bath. Hayato, having lived in Shimabara too, knew very well the story of Momoko, and was doubly careful when checking the facts. But at the same time, unlike Naoko who simply held a grudge against the idol industry since she was a kid and refused to learn anything about it, he lived in Tokyo long enough to know about the Idol Star System Generation Co.

  It was hard to miss, really. The company’s headquarter was a major landmark, a gigantic tree-like marvel that rose above the cityscape. Nearing a thousand feet tall, it was a sight to behold. The scenic view was one of the highest of the city and was a treat. The headquarter was not only an office, but a complete entertainment facility. At the bottom there was one of the biggest domes in the country, where shows occurred. There was also a shopping mall next to it. Then there were many office floors and a center for idol development and promotion above the mall, and finally, a big, five-story, arborized terrace that mixed a luxury hotel, a restaurant and an observation deck. Even for people who couldn’t care less about idols like Hayato, it was next to impossible not to be aware of it. The I.S.S.G. also employed many people, one of his classmates being a waiter there. The guy, who wanted to specialize in food chemistry, told him his job was underwhelming, but opportunities to grow in the career were aplenty.

  When Naoko came out of the bath, almost stumbling on the bathroom slippers while taking them off, she was far too drowsy to understand anything he found, but she made an appointment to wake up even earlier than planned to look at the results. She didn’t want Hayato to get up early too, but he did so anyway. It’d be easier than to write down about the I.S.S.G on a paper.

  The Idol Star System Generation, from what her cousin told her at the break of dawn, was a solid corporation. In its official site there was a list of affiliated agencies allowed to produce girls, and Aratani’s The Paragon Idol was among them. His ID number was valid, and the information that threw her cousin off, that it was founded a mere two weeks before, didn’t fazed Naoko as much. Apparently the man was telling the truth after all, that’s what matters.

  More importantly, a somewhat hidden area of the website also gave an overview about the application process. There were lots of details regarding legal tidbits, such as parental approval for minors to work at the entertainment industry and so on, but Naoko didn’t bother with that for the time being. Instead, she used her precious, running out time to read the instruction of the first few steps any idol wannabe should go through. It was clearly stated in the contract that under no circumstances were a candidate to pay upfront fees for the admission to occur. It was, like the agency owner had told, the company’s obligation to foot such costs. Also, the agencies’ commissions could only come from generated revenue.

  There were many other details that slowly built-up her confidence. Not that she’d be approved, exactly – the dance test still left her doubtful – but at least that it was the real deal and not some cold-hearted scam. The site also presented a list of other agencies, some with many years in the market, in which rested her cousin’s favorable opinion. After all, even if The Paragon Idol was a real, honest enterprise it was still small and newborn. Given all the costs to operate that line of business, it was still a coin flip. If she came to Tokyo and the agency went bankrupt from the large entry barriers and difficulty to generate revenue, which was a very real possibility, Naoko would still be left with no job to pay her studies and her life there. Meaning even if she were to accept the possibility of becoming an idol, there were better, safer agencies. Just like Aratani said the night before, in reality. But exactly because of that she thought he was a dependable and sincere guy.

  Eventually, seeing the clock fast approaching the hour for her to be at the airport, she made up her mind. It was worth a shot. Worst case scenario Aratani would also not keep his promise of paying her another flight, and she’d know he wasn’t to be trusted. And since she had a few pennies saved, it wasn’t a big deal, she would go back home no matter what. Or if she didn’t pass the exam, she’d at least know how it was, and could feel if she wanted to do it again at another agency. If so, she could prepare beforehand. And in case she got accepted, moved to Tokyo and the company went under, well… she’d only looked for a job for two days, if she lived there it was just a matter of time before she found something, she told herself. And all in all, she would be flying back home at night, so she wouldn’t need to spend her entire last day of spring break in her parents’ house!

  Sure, to give an idol job a shot, with all that was said, was as risky as pursuing lake bodies in the horizon of a desert, hoping they weren’t mirages, but there was a chance. A real one, she wanted to believe. Thinking positively, she washed the tiredness away of her face and mustered up the courage to call that man. Despite having mistrusted and perhaps mistreated him the night before, though, it seemed Aratani wasn’t one to hold a grudge. In fact, he showed appreciation in hearing her voice, remembered his promise about the flight and thanked her for the interest.

  She put on her makeup as quickly as possible, called her parents to tell them the flight was postponed due to a job interview offer without giving too much info not to lose time and quickly ate breakfast before hastily departing to Aratani’s office. As he opened up the door and found the panting girl who had clearly rushed up the stairs a smile formed on his mouth.

  From the get-go he reassured her and answered all her questions. The exams, which petrified her, weren’t made on his disordered room, but on a dancing school close-by, a beautiful, large and illuminated place. Along with him there was a middle-aged woman, dressed formally and wearing a severe expression, who apparently worked as an instructor there. With her came a younger woman, just a senior student in her classes, to watch and maybe give opinions. Even though Naoko was initially afraid of possible harsh opinions from the agency owner, his straightforward and relaxed character made him a far less scary judge than the hawk-eyed instructor and her one spectator.

  The singing test consisted just of a battery of three songs, two chosen by the examination board and one by Naoko herself. It was terrifying but easy enough. The girl just sang like she would in a karaoke, although butterflies in her stomach constantly bugged her. In less than ten minutes it was over, but it left her with a very bad impression that she’d been rejected right there. And since the judges didn’t give any preliminary results, she was left to guess what they thought.

  A problem soon became clear to Naoko: she hated to be rated. Any kind of audience made her uneasy and nervous. It was hard to understand: she was really extroverted and could easily talk to any stranger, even if it was a politician, a celebrity, a director of an important company or any other person, but as soon as she felt she was being evaluated her heart accelerated and she lost conviction in herself. It was the same feeling as when she had exams to change belts in karate. She had no problem participating in a class full of men and owning the place, but no sooner she found herself being tested she could hear her heart beating her chest much harder than her arms and legs’ blows.

  Curiously, she didn’t have any problems doing school exams, with the exception of P.E. ones. While others were chewing on their nails and fingertips before the scariest theoretical tests, Naoko was as stalwart and tranquil as a forest. Even though she didn’t have the habit of studying at home, usually relying just on what she learned during classes, her smarts and her cool head during assessments generally got her better grades than many students in her class who were dedicated and maybe knew the subjects more than her, bu
t ultimately let their doubts dominate them.

  In the singing test it was the opposite. In her imagination if she was to be put against a raucous century-old turtle wearing bunny ears and a skirt, the reptile would perform better. This mental picture was a bad sign for her confidence, but at the same time made her smile genuinely. With a laugh trying to find its way out as she sang, the girl actually started to feel her performance improving during the second presentation. It wasn’t an honest feeling in that she liked the way she sang, but at least she was having fun about something.

  After a brief pause her main terror started. The dance tests consisted of the same logic: three songs, one of them being Naoko’s choice. They checked if she knew all of them, otherwise they’d need to change it. She was free to sing if she so desired or if it made it easier for her to concentrate, but it wasn’t a requirement and wouldn’t affect her score. Even then, she decided that flailing arms and legs without singing along would be even more awkward than not doing it. By the time she was expected to give the board the name of a song of her choice all she wanted was for it to end soon so she could find a cavern to hide in and forget that shameful experience.

  Noticing the girl was nearly having a heart attack, Aratani had a word with her. He told her he couldn’t present her the examinees scores yet, but asked her if she liked to dance. As the girl hesitantly responded she kind of did, but she was afraid, the man insisted:

  “Yano-San, if you’re afraid to do something, you’re doing it out of obligation. I asked you if you like to dance. Think about what you feel when you do something you like, instead of what others like you to do. If you can’t feel you do something you like, there’s no point doing it.”

  It was a warning, but also an advice. It was true. Maybe she shouldn’t be trying to get a job she’d be suffering to perform. Or maybe she was just on the wrong mindset.

  If she could just grasp how she was able to do tests in school with such ease, she’d probably be fine. Of course, she still didn’t know how to dance. The last time she did it for real she was around seven years old. But, to be fair, she had already made tests in school where she knew little about the subject and wasn’t nearly as much afraid as then. Also, in these situations she simply did what she could, randomly wrote what she reminded and relied on last-minute study remembering… anything. Somehow she was able to do well.

  “Somehow”. Maybe that was the key. In school exams she knew from experience that knowing the answer wasn’t the only way to get things done. Resorting to logic, common sense and random luck were all fair game. Also, she had many friends, both the nice guys and the not so nice. Some boys would have no problem to toss her an answer was she to ask for it, but she never resorted to that. The only times she was involved in cheating, she was the one giving them the answers. But it was tempting to grab the correct answers from someone. After all, what could she do if her expertise was with human interactions instead of cold, hard knowledge? Every person was good at something, but the way school worked privileged only a handful of skills. It was only just to level the playfield resorting to the abilities she had, if it came down to that. Anyway, she firmly believed in her capabilities of getting things done. Maybe not how they were supposed to be, but somehow.

  She chose a song that made her feel good and that she knew well, “Doi-Chan wa Damsel Is Distress Da!” The name mixed English and Japanese, like many titles across different media, and roughly translated as “Little Doi is a Damsel Is Distress”. The “Is”, in this case, was not a typo, albeit not making sense when translated, and fitted perfectly to the theme. It had a positive, self-motivational feeling to it and versed about a funny girl, whose family name was Doi, in her nonsensical attempts to get a boy one year older than her in school to notice her. Something about the absurdity of her ideas and the way the original songstress made the character appear innocent and crazy at the same time made Naoko crack whenever she listens to it.

  The situations were over the top, like the protagonist firmly believing that sending the gym ceiling with her name written on it crashing down on the boy she loved would make him notice her more, or how the guy during the course of the music begins to actively avoid that dangerous girl but she doesn’t notice it and keeps pursuing him. It was a well-written and comical song, even though she also said a lot of truths about how people acted blindly when in love. Its “go get what you want somehow!” message felt right for that occasion, and it was a personal favorite of Naoko, so at least she’d be in familiar territory. That was all she could do for herself.

  Her mental depictions were all there was for her to lean on at that time. After the vocal test ended she felt something was not right. Not with the judges, really, but with her. If she was scared to sing for three people, how would she feel in front of a crowd who paid for a good spectacle? Also, as much as the examination board remained stoic, she began to imagine they were secretly disapproving her way of singing. Since Naoko never liked idols a lot to begin with – her only memories of this were of two bands whose lyrics she enjoyed when she was six or seven – she had no idea how an idol was supposed to be. In her imagination, they were just a bunch of false girls who smiled on the stage, but who were probably antipathetic and snobbish in real life.

  Not that there was too much realism in an idol to begin with, she sensed. There was a common saying across many of those who liked idols that claimed that “an anime character is 2D; a real person is 3D; an idol is 2,5D”. It possibly alluded to the fact that an idol was a real girl invested in a position where she was actually impersonating a character. The only difference between that and an actor was that after a movie or a theatre presentation the character vanished and the artist came back to itself, whereas an idol usually lived as that semi-real, dream-like entity both on the stage and out of it. Not that different from any kind of celebrity, really, which even on their normal lives were surrounded by a certain quasi-magical aura. Only many girls took that je ne se qua to a whole other level of fiction, maybe pumped by the media and their fans’ expectations, or maybe due to their own vanity. Not all idols were like that, Naoko was willing to bet, but since she knew little about that trade it was easy to generalize.

  All in all she couldn’t rely on her knowledge of real idols, so the closest thing she knew was how fiction depicted them. It was safe to assume manga, anime, games and other media abounded with over-the-top caricatures of what a human was actually able to do and to be, setting the bar very high. But, now that she thought about it, since she was fairly erudite in these forms of cultural manifestations (much to her father’s frustration) and her imagination was wild, she could try to rely on visualizations to help her through! Much like the turtle idol, if she could imagine a character dancing – decently, this time – in front of her, maybe she could try to copy her movements!

  In reality it wasn’t easy, even for someone with as insanely creative as her. Sure, her mind was able to create on the fly images she’d seen somewhere before, but didn’t even remember. However, the effort to reproduce such movements detracted from her visualization, making it fade away. She had to imagine someone dance, then switch to reproduce it and turn back to letting her creativity show her the next steps. The interpolation had to occur at a frenetic rhythm to seem like a natural dance without weird stops. It was draining, but of the plus side it required so much brainpower and focus that she partially lost her self-awareness, which was great, and almost all of the surroundings seemed to fade to nothingness. Also, since she had to concentrate for minutes, every unnecessary thought got in the backseat, including her predictions of failure. It felt good to employ her imagination to a constructive cause instead of having it around working against her.

  Testing it before the actual test, it looked promising. The best part of it was that she didn’t feel as lonely. It wasn’t the same as dancing alongside a real person, but it was enough to make her fears reduce to manageable degrees. And the prospect of tackling the dance test with a companion was such a good nov
elty that it made her laugh on the inside.

  Her mind created out of the blue a random partner who, in her opinion, matched every criterion for a top-notch idol. Since it was just her imagination, many details were omitted or looked blurry. Despite that in Naoko’s head her partner had a pretty face, one she couldn’t see it clearly, nor did it matter. Her long, blond hairs, though, were easily noticeable. Also were her white, blue and purple dress, three of Naoko’s favorite colors, and her long, white and black stripped stockings. The girl had no clue from where did her imagination created such an image, but it was a nice one.

  As the examination began, Naoko started to try projecting and reflecting the blond idol-like image. Between this and singing there was very little room for her to worry or focus anywhere else. Sometimes, especially during non-singing portions, she got a little self-aware and remembered she was being judged, and her movements suffered as a consequence. Most of the time, though, she was too entertained in her own world to care.

  The first song was probably mediocre, she gauged, but she was just getting the hang of it. As the second one started, the blond visage adapted as if by magic to the feel of the music, with a slower pace and heartfelt tune. At that time her mind got some leeway and spawned ridiculous things, like the turtle idol dancing alongside the two of them during a particularly boring part of the lyric. It almost made Naoko laugh her lungs out in the middle of a song about the hardships of a non-corresponded love. But since the music got so down in the dumps in the chorus the slow pace of the reptile and its one hundred year old candid expression was spot on.

  At some point Naoko began to get slightly aware of the judges as the music came to a conclusion. Almost as if the girl’s mind paid no heed to it, a question suddenly popped in her mind, in a voice similar to her own but not exactly, as if the blond idol was talking to her during the presentation:

  “Hey, what do you think those three would say if they discovered what was going on inside your head this whole time?”

  The candidate exploded in laughter, only then noticing the confused face of the three spectators. Since the song was almost at the end anyway, Naoko quickly transformed that into a few jumps, a smile and some punches in the air as if she was commemorating having completed her second dance. She wasn’t sure if it worked, but Aratani got to smile back and the senior dance student didn’t react in any negative way either. Only the instructor lady kept her grave expression and statue-like standing, prompting Naoko’s mind to bully her.

  “Look! An Egyptian mummy came to watch your presentation!” the blond idol’s supposed voice sounded in excitement, making Naoko struggle again not to laugh. Luckily the song she had chosen was the last one, and it was also happy and ridiculously funny. She’d probably be alright giggling while “Doi-Chan wa Damsel Is Distress Da!” was playing. The song’s Doi-Chan was the very incarnation of distress itself, after all! As long as Naoko didn’t completely lose it, things would be fine, she thought.

  Which was a good thing, because her imagination went overdrive during the last song, mostly attacking the eternally serious instructor in every way. The turtle idol falling down over her, a sword-wielding man appearing out of nowhere wanting to fight her because he thought her ugly and static face was a samurai mask and ideas like someone asking “please check if she’s breathing, I think that instructor’s dead” because of the fact she hardly moved were just a few examples. Since Naoko was finally having fun and it was only a minor distraction, she didn’t try to stop it. It made her fears much less intimidating.

  At some point Naoko started to wonder what the hell she was doing trying to mimic her own imagination, but no sooner it occurred her that she had more in common with the character from the song than she’d ever realized. It made her day. Fully embracing the craziness, she felt her fears of inadequacy paradoxically wane. At the time she didn’t have the opportunity to think about why that was the case, but she kept it for further reflections.

  Her visualization often faded away, leaving her not knowing what to do, but by the third song she had already loosen up and simply repeated a movement she had previously executed. As the blond idol mirage “showed her” a new move Naoko usually remembered a glimpse of a person or character she’d seen somewhere doing it. A few were actually good, even though others, while also valid dancing poses and steps, made her feel stupid. One in particular, involving spreading the legs and bringing her forearms and arms close together while pointing her hands up and close to the cheeks, and proceeding to alternating between rising one and the other, seemed adorable when looking the imaginary idol perform, but while doing so all she could think was that she was mimicking a monkey. But it was more due to the difficulty of trying to copy a pose she projected than for the movements fault.

  “On my mind it looked so beautiful!”, she mocked herself mentally, almost losing a sentence of the lyric because of that. And it would be a shame, it was a good sequence of lines where Doi-Chan asked if her senior would notice her if she invaded a hurdle race and grabbed him mid-track, and the guy ends up winning the competition because he was fleeing from her.

  Of course, even though in her head the blond idol was like a superstar, she was still part of her imagination and her repertoire of moves was limited to what Naoko had seen before. In time she began repeating the same moves, but it wasn’t a bad thing as the song was also finishing.

  As she sung the last word and let the music run by itself, the blond visage froze with one leg bent and the opposite arm raised. Naoko reflected the pose, quickly noticing her imagination wasn’t always to be trusted as the mirage could stand perfectly still and balanced, while the real girl felt herself gradually leaning. Her thoughts turned to a quick succession of “Finish, song. Finish. Finish, song, dammit! Finish already!” At last she was unable to keep her balance and had to return her raised foot to the floor, but the final accords were already in course so she gave it no further thoughts and simply acted as if the presentation was over.

  A round of applauses took place, and Naoko got surprised seeing the middle-aged woman she previously thought was so intolerant and unlikable to clap while shaking her head approvingly. At that time something clicked on the girl, as if a jigsaw piece fell into place.

  Puffing, Naoko dismissed her imagination, only then fully comprehending she had made a test based solely on an imaginary friend, a turtle wearing skirts and a song about a crazy girl doing whatever came to her mind. As much as she began to worry for her sanity, she found it amusing that it was possible to conquer fears just by putting her mind to a productive end instead of letting it roam freely. It wasn’t easy and half an hour made the girl as exhausted as if she had exercised the whole day. But despite the anxiety and the fear of rejection she still had to find a decent way to overcome, she felt incredible after it ended. ‘Addicting-level’ incredible.

  The sensation she suddenly had was that those people were fine with her expressing herself! A strange, warm sensation of peace bloomed inside her chest. The two judges talked for a while, but she barely noticed it. Squatting, she stayed for what appeared to be a couple of seconds, just appreciating the bliss. As Aratani came to her, the girl stood up to hear the results, but for the first time she found herself not really afraid of the opinion of others. They led an ear to her, after all. Even though her mind had made fun of the instructor and her intimidating expression, she stayed there until the end and heard Naoko. Even if she were to evaluate her unfavorably, the girl understood it wouldn’t be out of malice or hatred toward her. Whatever result Naoko got, she knew she deserved it, and that soothing certainty appeased her.

  Aratani’s face was unreadable as he started to give her the results:

  “Yano-San, after some deliberation we came to the conclusion that you show potential. Should we were to invest in further improving your capabilities we believe you’d be capable of performing to the likings of the public. As such, I’d like to inform that Yano-San, having achieved a combined singing score of eighty-eight out
of one hundred points, and a combined dancing score of sixty two out of one hundred, with a minimum required score of sixty in each category, is considered accepted in both tests.”

  Contrary to what she initially thought, the result itself didn’t make her at peace more than she already was. However, it made her happy, in a way she took days to fully understand. At the moment she heard she had passed, she had an urge to smile, to jump and, more importantly, to thank the presents bowing deeply, hands folded in front of the body, and sustaining it for several seconds. It was a feeling of gratitude she hasn’t known for a long time, one that lingered in her mind for two whole days.

  “As such,” Aratani continued, “I’d like to invite you for one last step in the application process, an interview so I can know more about Yano-San.”

  It was a no-brainer to accept the offer, especially for Naoko, who was walking on air. She wasn’t, at that time, fully able to understand why, but for some reason all her drive to fight people subdued. As she got back to the sun-bathed streets she noticed the absence of negative feelings she wasn’t even aware she felt before. People walking with earphones or looking down to their cellphones never really bugged her, or so she thought, but noticing they didn’t fazed her even the slightest showed her that up until then they actually annoyed the girl in a subtle way. The overly-energetic way salesclerks greeted people by the stores they passed in front didn’t rub her the wrong way anymore too. Now she could see she harbored the assumption those people were being nice to others just to make them feel comfortable to spend money there, as if having second thoughts, no matter how obvious they were. But now she could accept for the first time the possibility that people acted that way just out of respect for others.

  ‘Respect’ was a keyword there. At first she thought her happiness when she passed the tests was due to the fact that she had success in the endeavor. But remembering her sensation of peace and plenitude had predated the results, she gradually came to a deeper conclusion: that she felt heard. That it was actually possible for others, strangers even, to give her ears. And, in doing so, people were not all bad. Following this logic, if they sometimes didn’t pay attention to her it wasn’t necessarily because they disliked the girl. They could be just busy or lost in their own minds. Wasn’t this a habit of Naoko too?

  Also, there was the round of applause, which she previously deemed as an empty custom for reasons unknown. Maybe serving the purpose of embarking on peer pressure, just to be the same as everybody and pretending to have enjoyed something even if you didn’t. Showing respect for others, she began to comprehend, was not just a thin layer of civility to hide nasty intentions, but could also come from genuine… liking of the other person. “Liking” was not the best word to describe it, but at that time Naoko couldn’t think of a better one.

  She took a few days to understand it, and even then it didn’t make sense why she had come to stumble upon such discoveries during her tests. The best she could understand was that noticing an interest of others in hearing her made her feel liked, and not on a superficial level. Not because of looks, or out of business interest alone. Perhaps these were factors, yes, but she wanted to believe they weren’t the only ones.

  But despite only having marginally comprehended it days after, the effects of such peacefulness were felt since the end of the tests. Her body felt light and she could then feel how her muscles were tense before. Not just due to the evaluation: it was as if she had lived years with unnecessary tension, like a cornered animal always ready to defend itself.

  Her interview went smoothly. It was blatant for Naoko how she didn’t feel in any moment the urge to act impolitely, be it there or after. Naturally she had lived so many years being upfront and not all that ladylike that some ways of acting, including her will to tease and pester, were already too hardwired on her to be changed in a single measly epiphany, but at least it was clear for Naoko that her disposition to use impoliteness as a form of aggression lost part of its intensity. As a result of feeling there was a real possibility others could want to listen to her and approved what they heard Naoko found she, too, could be more tolerant. Within limits, of course. Her short fuse didn’t get any longer, she could see. Only her ability to comprehend that other people was not always as critical, cynical and negative about her as she once believed.

  Her interview at the chaotic office ended on a positive note, and as it finished Aratani finally expressed his interest in having Naoko onboard:

  “I’m glad I heard my gut instincts back when we first met. Yano-San seems dependable enough, and I’m actually surprised you’re able to act politely when it’s necessary. Since our interview is over now, let me reveal you something: I liked your no-holding back personality, I’m a little like that too, but it also made me uneasy. I don’t want you to be a wallflower with me, but yesterday I’ve made a point of not extending you an invitation were you unable to show restrain at some point. You know, the public might love a strong-willed girl, but since in this line of work there are other players such as journalists, businessmen and such, a wild cat would only prove to be a liability. But lo and behold, you can be really sweet when needed, and your tests were something to write home about! I’m sold.”

  Grinning, partly by the thought of what would’ve happened if she hadn’t chanced upon such unexpected peace and the rest for gratitude, Naoko brightened the mood and asked:

  “Did Aratani-San really think my tests were that memorable? I barely scored enough to pass the dance part! Sure, the vocal one was also higher than I would’ve expected too. Eighty eight out of one hundred? Do you really think I’m that good of a singer?”

  Even if she more or less believed in the seriousness of the agency by that time, Naoko was still a bit reticent about the apparent easiness of the application process. In her mind, it was almost as if he was trying for her to stay with him, which made her a little worried. It looked a bit desperate of his part, as if he was doing some charity to a regular girl calling her mediocre test a blast Aratani, though, was cool as always, prompting the girl to ask herself from where did she got that feeling while he explained in details:

  “The test follows a set of guide rules stipulated by the I.S.S.G., not as strict but the same that applies to every audition and presentation of the corporation. When we say you scored eighty eight out of one hundred, it doesn’t mean you were twelve points short of perfection. It meant you were twelve points short of the maximum we could expect from a candidate with little or no previous experience or training. Were it in a real audition against already professional idols, even low-class ones, you’d probably score your vocal around the thirties, forties tops.”

  Taking a brief pause to shelve the sheets regarding the interview, he continued:

  “Also, your dance test was a bit of an oddball. I’ll go into more details of how a presentation is scored using I.S.S.G.’s metrics if and when I’m producing Yano-San for a gig, but for now let’s just say there are five categories total, two of which are Singing and Dancing aspects. Each one has multiple subcategories. Dancing, for example, is composed of Mood, Stage Presence, Choreography, Execution and Assertiveness. Simply put, Mood is whether or not the idol danced according to the overall feel of a song. Stage Presence means the use of all the space of the stage and how well was it. Choreography is never present at an application test, but tells of the difficulty and general awesomeness of movements planed beforehand for a dance. It is scored before the presentation and doesn’t change in a presentation. Execution means how well the choreography was executed. Higher-point choreographies are more difficult to perform, and an unprepared idol can really take a hurt in Execution scores if she’s unable to live up to the expectations. In the test, the execution didn’t follow any previously planned route and just meant how well any movement you threw at us was in terms of technical aspects ad the fluidity of the dance. Finally, assertiveness means if the idol stole the limelight of shied away. It’s a score based on the amplitude and energy of movemen
ts, facial expressions and other components. Everything’s clear until here?”

  Seeing Naoko nod, Aratani kept going:

  “Right. Specifically about your dancing test, the score was a simple average of both judges. Your first song was the one that hurt your score the most, while the last was better than I expected, to be honest. On a whole, your Mood and Assertiveness scores were the ones that saved you, while the Stage Presence wasn’t bad either. Your biggest problem was on the more technical Execution score. It felt underwhelming, but then again, it’s understood that a common girl is not supposed to know how to dance like a pro. That’s the reason why, after being accepted by an agency, idols go through a rigid routine of lessons to hone their skills: because what we look for in tests is not actual skill, but rather signs of potential. This becomes obvious once you know the inside-outs of how points are awarded, or rather, subtracted. Each subcategory has a long list of faults, which can detract anything from one to ten points. There are also a group of especially nasty faults dubbed the “Cardinal Sins”, which immediately disqualifies an idol, but that’s only an issue during real auditions and shows. Things like attacking or harming another idol in any way, hurting someone on the audience or on the examining board if there’s any, acting in shameful ways on stage… things like that. Anyway. On the real deal every idol starts out with perfect scores across all categories except for a few pre-valued subcategories, and any fault subtracts points, but on tests each candidate is given five free opportunities to boggle before her score starts to be chipped away. It gives some leeway to candidates.”

  “And even then I barely managed to score sufficiently?!” the girl replied, shocked. The man, dismissively, calmed her down:

  “Like I said, you performed remarkably well on Mood and Assertiveness, which are more reliant on the personality of the girl than on technical aspects. Dancing skills, such as those required on Execution and, to some extent, Stage Presence can be learned, but the opposite is not always true. Try making a shy girl dance a song like the one you chose and Yano-San will see it’s easier to teach an extroverted girl how to dance than to make a bashful one smile, jump and bear the sights of the crowd without flinching.”

  Filled with warmth, Naoko nodded, replying:

  “Although, truth to be told, I was mortified at first!”

  “Everyone would be, rest assured,” Aratani told her, “The test can’t really recreate the sensation of being in front of an audience, naturally, but it’s made to instill anxiety in the candidates to see how well they perform under pressure. To be evaluated by singing and then dancing two pairs of songs you had no time to prepare to is nerve-wrecking, we know it. But you’ve been able to adapt to the circumstances. You even had fun from the second song onwards, I could see it. Again, it wasn’t so much about actual performance, but rather how you conform to such situations and if you show potential to learn the rest. Also, if it’s of any reassurance, on tests judges do give emphasis on things that are hard or impossible to change, rather than on what can be taught. And your singing scores were pretty high, something you seem to forget. Granted, there are singing techniques you can learn, but as a rule of thumb, a person’s voice can only be improved up to a point. No one’s going to make a frog into Top 10 lists of the most wanted songs on radios.”

  Aratani looked around the shelves of his desk for a few seconds and took one diminutive, sparkly dot on the palm of his hand, which he promptly handed to the girl. At first Naoko couldn’t see what was it, but as she took in her own hands the cold, pointy and inexplicably hard object, akin to a grain of sand albeit bigger, her eyes shone with comprehension. Between her thumb and her index finger lied a shining, crystal-clear gem that refracted the sun that came from the windows into a million rays. It was round when looked from the top, and made of many facets, it was almost as if someone tried to create a circular form out of squared angles. It was so small Naoko at first was afraid to smoosh it like an ant, but it soon became clear not even her nails would so much as scratch it. In fact, the thing was so hard it was probably the brilliant gem that would chip her nails if she were not careful.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aratani’s voice sounded tranquil, but had the effect of an alarming clock snapping Naoko out of her trance. “When we say we need to ‘polish’ the skills of an idol for her to reach full potential, it’s a surprisingly accurate statement. To polish is to remove any unnecessary parts, rather than to put something new on the table. First we give an idol anything to work on, and then we polish her skills, removing faulty elements of her performance. But no matter how well you polish a pebble, it’ll still be a pebble. I believe everyone has qualities, everyone has a place in the world, but the stages are not the place for pebbles. People want to see whoever’s there shine bright like a diamond. During the tests we don’t look for brilliance, which can only be unearthed with a good polish. We look for a delightful voice, even when untrained. A girl with powerful and hardened self-confidence, and willpower so sharp that nothing but herself would be able to graze her own determination. A personality so enthralling that, reflecting the spotlights, could dazzle and blind the audience. That’s what I was looking for: signs that I’ve found a diamond in rough that can be polished into a gem fit for a crown.”

  Silently, Naoko handed back the tiny, colorless and spellbindingly pretty stone back to Aratani, who put it back from where it came. The girl was seriously amazed by what she had seen, and even more by what she’d heard. To her, that man erred on the sloppy side, maybe due to his room or his untroubled personality, but for once Naoko noticed he actually knew really well what he was doing. Like he told her the night before, he was well aware she wasn’t ready to tackle stages yet, but he seemed confident she was a safe bet.

  So that was why she thought he was being overly lenient with her. Naoko judged herself based on current standards, and by doing so thought she was nowhere near idol’s quality. His way of looking at things, on the other hand, wasn’t as immediatist. He didn’t evaluate her idol material based on what she was, but rather on what he foresaw she could be if properly taken care of. Naoko, although still a bit skeptical, could finally see herself being produced by a man who had a vision. She entrusted herself to him and expected that he knew what he was doing, because she had zero idea what she was getting into.

  “With all that said,” the agency owner, taking a more formal tone for the moment, sat erectly on his chair and said, bowing a tad bit, “I’d like to announce your results are deemed more than sufficient. Yano-San, I’d like to extend you an invitation for The Paragon Idol’s Agency. Please consider the possibility of working with us, if it’s of your liking.”

  Formal situations were awkward for Naoko, but on that day it didn’t put her off nor made her start picking on petty details, like why would Aratani employ plurals if so far he seemed like the only one working at the place. Bowing, she replied after some consideration:

  “Aratani-San, I’m grateful for the opportunity.” After a brief pause to think how she would put what was bugging her, she finally gave in to her old habit, “Listen, I’m really grateful. I am. And I hope I can be of assistance. But before we go any further, I… need Aratani-San to know something. About… my family.”

  Looking serious, Aratani lost some of the formalities and quickly asked the girl to tell him what could be troubling her. And so she did.

  “Since I’m below twenty, and thus my parents will most likely have to consent, I… need to inform this now, so I’m sorry if I cause you any trouble. The thing is, me and my parents are not exactly on good terms. Well, me and my father really. My mother simply tries to zeal for peace. But it’s already been six or seven years that the situation at home… deteriorates every day. I came to Tokyo to stay on the apartment of an uncle I didn’t see for the last six years or so, simply because my father couldn’t tolerate me anymore and… as much as I hate to admit it, neither could I. He’s also not that old, I think. He’s fifty-seven, but he acts as if he was ninety ye
ars old! He’ll probably have some qualms with me getting on this line of business, I think. He’s a little old-fashioned, so I’ll do my best to convince him, but…” Bowing again, close to the surface of the desk, she asked “Please, please forgive me if I took your time and made you go through so much trouble, only to discover I’m ultimately unable to convince my parents at the end. I’m deeply sorry should this happen, and I’ll try to repay you somehow in this circumstance.”

  As Naoko raised her head she found Aratani in a grave mood, unlike how he normally presented himself. Presuming he wouldn’t be happy to discover just now that all his efforts could’ve been in vain, the girl apologized again:

  “I’m sorry for only letting you know this now. I should’ve told Aratani-San sooner…”

  “No,” the man’s voice responded, “Yano-San did mention yesterday at night your family could very likely veto your decision. I’m just concerned for what you told me about the situation with your parents. It’s none of my business, I know, but your family is one of the most precious things in your life. Yano-San shouldn’t cause her father grief.”

  “It’s not like that!”, she promptly explained herself, only then noticing she had started to talk about her private life to someone who she knew for only one day. But, to be fair, it wasn’t any secret, “We don’t usually fight, in the sense of open conflict. It’s almost always subtle, but it pains me a lot nonetheless. To be fair my family isn’t bad, I admit this. Father, mother and daughter. And a cat. That’s it. On the outside, it’s just another common family, with average income and average lives, with no glaring problems. No drug addictions, no physical violence… with very rare exceptions, no constant couple fights, no financial problems, no nothing. I… never could quite put a finger down on why I’ve so many arguments with my parents. The only thing I know for sure is that my father never accepts anything I do.”

  Evading the agency owner’s stare, Naoko talked to her fists she clasped over her legs:

  “He always complains about my behavior, about my pastimes, the way I dress and so on. If I go out with my friends, he dislikes the way I mingled too much with older boys, even though they protect me and are really nice. If I stay home, the problem is that I played too much videogame instead of doing something productive. I’m not one to study home, but in school I listen carefully the classes, and since everyone tells me I’m curious and attentive to everything…” along with an arguably intelligent mind, but she didn’t mentioned others used to tell her that because it would look like she was bragging, “…I am always able to get good to excellent grades. Even then the only thing my father could say is that if I get such high marks without studying, I’d be so much better if I actually make an effort. There was… also a time… also a time I got a maximum score in a test and wanted him to know. I thought he’d be happy the daughter he had so much doubt about was actually faring well. But as I showed him he…”

  She stood quietly for a moment, feeling the peace she had discovered that day fading away as she remembered situations that were so hard on her that the girl still remembered them as if it happened mere hours before. Trying not to dwell too much on sad reminiscences not to destroy her humor, she bit the bullet and spilt out everything as quickly as possible:

  “He looked at my perfect test and told me ‘You got this score? From whom did you copy the answers?’ And I swear I never got answers from anyone in my life!”

  As her eyes faced Aratani, he could see the anger and sadness inside her. For Naoko it was a strange feeling, to open up like that, but it wasn’t anything new. In her experience, to express her feelings to others was never as bad as it seemed, despite making her feel weak. At the same time, people usually told her the opposite, that to be able to do such a thing was insanely courageous, if not a little insane. But that was Naoko in a nutshell, and she couldn’t be any different from that. She knew it because she had already tried numerous times.

  “Bottom line is: my father’s never happy with his own, only daughter. Nothing I do is ever enough. Most of the time he doesn’t even have to say anything to hurt me, just the way he looks shows me his disapproval. In fact, it’s better when he professes his displeasure verbally, because then I could confront him. Often, though, he silently attacks me with his face, and if I try to retaliate, he always tells me he didn’t do anything and that it’s just my imagination. I… think I grew up learning the hard way that not to express your feelings in words is to be a coward.”

  The worst part was that her father wasn’t anything special to justify having such high expectations for her. He wasn’t famous, rich, particularly handsome or especially smart. He’s competent and dedicated, it’s true, but nothing out of the ordinary. Just your average salaryman.

  Closing her eyes not to let them become wetter, she rushed to a part of her feelings that were always confusing to her, but in the girl’s opinion were worthy of mention:

  “On the other hand, for a daughter to confront her own father from such a young age like that is not only a rarity, but shows just how much self-control my father has. On a few occasions I… know I made him so angry that I got physically hurt by flipping tables and whatnot as a result, but I’m fully aware I deserved it. Really… if only I knew what’s the matter I’d do everything to correct it and make amends. I… I don’t do it out of evilness, I… just wanted him… to like me… or something. I wanted… not to shame… my father and make… make him proud, but… I don’t know how. I… always feel guilty, and it’s horrible. But to be shunned every time by everything even when I perform well… it’s just too much for me to tolerate. I… I’m far from perfect, I know it… but I don’t think I deserve to be treated badly… for trying my best…”

  Trying to understand why he disliked her so much occupied a lot of her mind. She was able to comprehend he worried about her future and he wished her ways, similar in many aspects to that of boys, became more feminine. In her opinion, she understood him better than he did her, but the frustration and anger never ceased to exist. Even though the girl was generally so blunt that could insult some people, she’s in fact pretty empathetic and could make some really deep trains of thoughts, thanks to all the long hours, days and years she spent trying to understand her feelings.

  Stories were her first allies in helping her create connections in her mind. Manga, anime, movies, series, soap operas, books, games… every story had characters with whom she could relate, and in understanding the connections between their fights and her life she could achieve a deeper understanding of herself. Eventually lyrics also became prime material to spark her imagination. She always loved songs in general, but after she noticed some of them touched her heart in uncanny ways she began to give more though about them. With the exception of love songs and those that had no lyric, she liked almost every kind of musical composition, both national and international. In fact, a lot of her fluency in English was due to her interest in songs and games.

  As she came to a halt after feeling she said too much, guilty of having said all she did invaded her, making her eyes overflow. Quickly covering her face, she swept the tears as they came, washing her eyeliner, while mumbling, with a mix of sadness, anger and frustration:

  “I’m sorry. I embarrassed myself… and took your time. But no! Stupid Naoko is completely unable to stop talking! Now… Aratani-San probably thinks less of me. That I’m… a bad person. And…” as she came again in contact with the feelings she harbored for her father, and how much she wanted it to be different, she completely lost control of her cries, her tears becoming black as they mixed with her eyeliner and rolled down “…and he’ll… probably… be right! I must really be a horrible person!”

  Standing up abruptly, Naoko bowed deeply but quickly. Trembling, she excused herself and ran to the door. The man had no time to do anything before the girl left rushing to the woman’s bathroom by the corridor.

  It took her almost fifteen minutes to calm down and more so to reapply the makeup. As she came out of the
small but well-kept bathroom, she found Aratani sitting on one of the two brown and black sofas in the corridor, with his cellphone in hands. Contrary to her fears, the man’s face was full of compassion instead of reproach. As soon as he saw the crestfallen girl, the suit-clad man stood up and put the electronic away.

  “I’m… sorry again,” the girl apologized with a bow, unsure if it was for worrying him, taking his time, ruining whatever good impressions he might’ve had about her or what. Aratani, running the fingers of his right hand through the back of his hair in a lack of a better thing to do with them, protested serenely:

  “Don’t say that, I’m the one who put you through all that. I’m sorry for sticking my nose on where it didn’t belong and reopening wounds.” Glancing the girl, who dismissed it blaming her own loose tongue, the man calmed her on a lighter tone “But you know what? I think I got to understand Yano-San a little bit better now. You’re not a bad person like you said, on the contrary. A bad person wouldn’t care for her father to the point of wanting him to be happy about a school test, and wouldn’t feel bad for arguing him. Also, she wouldn’t care to try and comprehend her father like you do, or wanting him to be proud of you.”

  Naoko felt the tips of her lips turn up and her eyes start to become wet again as the man, in a somewhat disconcerted way that probably felt out of his nature to him, spoke his mind with a voice that sounded true and heartfelt:

  “When you started telling me you had those problems in your home, I was reticent, but now I see you’re not a bad person, Yano-San. You’re actually good, even though your ways of expressing it may not be… ah… necessarily the most orthodox ones. Just as much as I believe, from what little I know, your father to also be a good man who only wants the best for his daughter, you also do your best for him. It’s only natural you two to have different opinions about things, and clashes of views are to be expected, but don’t lose faith. I’m sure your father treasures you much and just… just thinks you’re still too young to comprehend your own value to him. Of course he’d worry if his daughter likes to hang out with older boys, I mean. But in time Yano-San will see that just as much as your love for him becomes sour when he doesn’t act the way you expected him to do, so does his for you. Then again, I don’t really know you or your family, but even then, my bet’s that he cares for Yano-San a lot.”

  Her quavering mouth smiled gratefully while her eyes restarted to shed tears, this time out of positive feelings. For a moment Naoko could barely talk, her emotions piling up and being washed away by her cry. She couldn’t get herself to thank Aratani anymore, so after gesturing her feelings in a bow, the girl, searching for something to say, laughed out of what crossed her mind:

  “Ah, look at that! You made me cry and ruin my makeup again!”

  ‘Excuse me? I just cheered you up, you were the one chose to cry instead of showing appreciation through other means. Like blowing me a kiss, for example! Hint.” Aratani teasingly stated while the girl went back to the bathroom. From there her laughing voice sounded loudly, pretending irritation, “The only thing I’ll blow is your head off with slaps if you keep being a cheap womanizer at every opportunity!”

  “I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure it’s not possible to blow someone’s heads with slaps,” Aratani retorted with a witty remark, finding out he was enjoying the make-believe argument just as much as Naoko, who replied in a mocking century-old fashioned threat, “Fret not, for I shall use thy head to illustrate how as soon as I come out!”

  Grinning, Aratani sat down again on the sofa and, taking back his cellphone, whispered to himself “Now that’s more like the impression I’ve of you, girl.”

  Eventually the cat-and-dog game came to an end and the man finally told her about the next steps of the process. The legal paperwork would take approximately four days to get through and be sent by e-mail, and if everything was right Naoko’s parents would have to seal the deal. With said documentation the agency and the I.S.S.G. would then be able to provide support to hasten her school transference, get her a room in a dorm, sign her up for a bank account under her parents’ responsibilities and set her up for her new life and career.

  If it worked like Aratani made her believe it would be a dream come true. Nonetheless the man made a point clear: she had to pay her school and dorm from the get-go and the agency had a list of taxes and payments to do. For as much as it would be good to spend a few months in preparation process, time was running against them. Aratani said he knew of ways to get the cash flowing, mostly ads, auditions and gigs at the beginning and before people knew her name. It was viable, but it would also mean a lot of work early on. Until she had constructed a name for herself and could rely on merchandise incomes a brand to generate a steady flow of cash, she would need to be prepared to be pitted against many other girls, idols who already passed their probation time, for a share of the action.

  Also, it meant she had four days to convince her parents. Any delay after that would be time wasted and less chances of raking dough. Also, since the agencies were required to pay a fee for every audition they ran at, placing among the last ones was, at the beginning, not an option.

  It made Naoko a bit nervous, but she was glad the owner of that agency was honest with her. If he told her everything would be all rainbows and unicorns she’d probably fall back to her fear of being scammed. She had yet to see the consequences of her leap of faith, but as much as it intimidated her, the thought of finally breaking free from the influence of her parents sounded just as seducing and balanced out her fears.

  Aratani turned his attention to his computer after leaving Naoko to fill in a form with her basic information. Which the girl did, but not without some consideration and reticence for the now unlikely but still real possibility she was giving her name, that of her parents, contacts and so on for a guy which could just so happen to have made a very authentic ploy to scam her. As she finished asking hesitant questions to be sure she wasn’t signing any binding contract unknowingly, and if those information would really be used just to send the real documents to her parents to accept or not, it was past one p.m. when she got through the simple, two-paged form.

  Her stomach protested, roaring like a tiger. The last few days had been quite demanding, both physically and mentally, and Naoko hadn’t eaten properly due to time constraints. For some time her curiosity and hopes kept her up and running, but after the adrenaline from her tests subsided the girl started to feel dizzy. She’d probably never eaten so little in her life. Despite her lean figure, she used to eat a lot. It’s her metabolism, not her self-restraint, the one to be thanked for her low weight.

  She expected Aratani didn’t hear her tummy going berserk, but the man, while looking at his screen, asked:

  “Have Yano-San been eating accordingly? It’s important to do so if you’re doing lots of exercises, you know? Don’t tell me you’re on a diet.”

  With an uncertain face, Naoko cheerfully replied:

  “I’m more or less eating properly. The past days have been a little tough, but now I don’t have appointments anymore, so I can compensate all the ramen I didn’t eat so far. I think I have only ever been on a diet once, though. Not to get slimmer, it’s a detox one. It’s nice, I felt more energetic after that, but I don’t plan to go back to drink those grass-tasting juices and yucky veggies ever again. I prefer my yummy industrialized snacks! After all, it’s widely known that the human body is composed of about seventy percent flavorings and coloring, chemical preservatives and acidulants! They’re all part of a healthy diet! Modern human being can only live three days without artificial harmful components and excessive sugar levels in their food!”

  “Way to go, girl,” Aratani sarcastically responded, “I’ll take note to take you to real restaurants every now and then. I don’t want you to go fainting on me or on your fans. Try to survive until you come back.”

  Turning the computer screen to the girl so she could see it, Aratani showed her a list of air com
panies and flights. Playfully, he said:

  “Okay, now for the part I dislike the most, where money leaves my wallet. Choose your destination and we’ll find a suitable flight for you in the evening.”

  Having almost forgotten his promise, Naoko stared shocked at the man. As the realization that he was the kind to keep his words, her worries of handing him a paper full of her data waned. Though as she started to thank him for the trouble, the smirking man told her sarcastically:

  “Oh, don’t thank me now, wait till the morning after the economic class trip. If you wake up hurting everywhere don’t blame it on me, blame it on the nightly budget flights.”