Oshi no Ko - Capítulo 1

Prévia do material em texto

“ — I’m going to quit as an idol.”
So said Hoshino Ai, with the best smile that she could manage.
She wasn’t a fan of these conversations taking a serious turn. So
instead, she kept her tone as light as possible. I’m going to stop
snacking to fix up my diet. If I wake up and don’t feel like school, I’m
just not going. That was the sort of nonchalance Ai was aiming for as
she announced her departure. If she could smooth things over without
any drama, that would be ideal in her book.
Unfortunately, things didn't pan out quite as planned. The person on
the receiving end of her words was looking profoundly unsettled.
“Hey, hey, hold on just a second!”
The man raising his voice just so happened to be the president of the
talent agency — Satou-san or Itou-san, or something like that.
Whatever his name was, he was gawking at Ai incredulously, jaw
hanging so wide it looked like it might be about to pop clean off his
face.
"Quit? Did you just say you’re quitting as an idol? Are you serious?"
They were having this talk in the meeting room of the talent agency
known as Strawberry Productions. Of course, it was a meeting room in
name only – in reality, it was a storage room barely ten square metres
in size that pulled double duty as a reception area, storage for props,
and not least the president’s smoking lounge. A common story for
small companies like this.
Fresh from her three-hour evening dance session, Ai had sauntered
into the meeting room still in her sportswear. She'd slipped out alone,
careful not to draw the attention of the other girls who had still been
changing.
There was only one reason for her being here. To tell the president she
was withdrawing from the idol unit, "B-Komachi".
“You know, that ‘graduation’ thing? I figured maybe it was about time
for me to give it a shot.”
The president stared at her, dumbfounded. Even through his
sunglasses, Ai felt like she could see the thoughts of, What the hell is
this idiot saying? in his eyes.
“About time? It's barely been three months since you became an idol
in the first place. No matter how you look at it, it's way too early to
quit.”
"Is there some rule saying I need to wait longer?"
“Well, no, but…” The president’s brow furrowed. “Is this a joke? Please
tell me it’s a joke.”
"Nope. No joke. I've decided I'm quitting."
Her flat rejection made the president's face twist into a troubled
grimace.
It was the sort of look that adults got when faced with a problem child.
For Ai, it was an expression that she was all too used to seeing from a
young age. The orphanage staff and her teachers at school had all
looked the same: it was the face of a grown-up dealing with an
annoying kid.
The president sighed heavily. “I’m at a loss here. Ai, you're the centre
girl of B-Komachi. You get the most attention from the cameras and the
most lines in all our songs. So what’s the problem?”
Just behind him was the company whiteboard used for all their
meetings. Pinned to it with magnets were promotional leaflets for last
week's concert at Shimokitazawa. On them, snapshots of B-Komachi
shared space with photos of the two other underground idol groups
that had been at the show. And of the B-Komachi members in that
photo, it was Ai who stood out the most. She was making a cutesy pose,
with her head tilted and her hands forming a heart.
Oh, that really does look kind of silly, huh? she thought belatedly.
But now she’d decided to quit, it didn’t really matter anymore.
“It's not like I'm dissatisfied or anything,” Ai said with a shrug. “Can’t I
just quit because I want to?”
“Of course not!” The president responded, pursing his lips. "B-
Komachi's just getting off the ground! You might still be seen as an
underground idol group, but you pack venues during your concerts.
The staff at Strawberry Productions and the fans have big expectations
for you guys. And now you’re deciding to bail out all of a sudden? All
the effort you've poured in till now will be flushed down the drain!”
Ai let the president's lecture wash right over her. She knew full well
what sort of position B-Komachi was in without needing to be told.
They were a rookie idol group, having only come into existence three
months prior. Ai included, the group was made up of seven members,
all of whom were girls in their early teens. The others were all middle
school models who had already belonged to Strawberry Productions,
but Ai alone was different — until last year, she'd had nothing to do
with the entertainment industry.
Which was precisely the problem.
"So you know, the way I got into B-Komachi is different from the other
girls, right?"
The president nodded. "That’s right. You were loitering in the streets
and I personally scouted you. I could just tell you had a little
something special about you."
He thought she had talent. Truth be told, she didn’t mind hearing that
at all.
“Mmhm. I’m super cute, after all. You’re absolutely right about that.”
“Full of self-confidence, as always. Not that I care.”
She met his exasperated response with a nod and continued. “Exactly.
The thing is, I got picked to be the centre out of nowhere. I do think it
was the right call, though. You've got a good eye.”
“Gee, thanks.”
"It's just, they've got a problem with it."
"Who does?"
"Everyone in B-Komachi."
A newcomer with zero entertainment experience had gotten picked as
the centre out of the blue. Was it any surprise the other founding
members were fuming? Here was this nobody, coming out of nowhere
to steal the most coveted spot in the group from them.
“Did something happen between you and the other members?”
Faced with his direct question, Ai answered evasively, "Well,
something like that... it's just, I feel like the overall vibe would
probably be better without me.”
The president hummed in response. "Well, I suppose things have been
a little tense since we made you the centre."
"And by 'a little tense' you mean 'a lot strained', right?"
It had been about a month since Ai was established as the centre, and
the other members' disapproval of her was intensifying day by day. In
the waiting rooms, it had become routine for the girls to talk about Ai
behind her back or tut-tut her right to her face. She'd even found nasty
comments written about her on B-Komachi’s underground sites; some
of it true, some of it made up. Things like, “Ai can’t read the room”, and
“A girl who’s only good at being cute isn’t suited to be an idol”.
Of course, the posts were anonymous so there was no way of working
out who to blame. But it was clearly someone from B-Komachi — there
were things in them only an insider would have known. It was a
meticulous way of going about it, Ai thought.
On top of that, she had also been the victim of pranks involving her
costumes and props. Her hair ribbons and stage shoes would up and
vanish on a daily basis. Ai had even found her costume
unceremoniously dumped into a trash can on the eve of a concert.
Dealing with this kind of bullying was, honestly, taking a bit of a toll on
her.
“Though for me it’s more like, 'here we go again'. This happened to me
all the time at school and the orphanage.”
In her twelve years of life, Ai had learned two things.
The first was that she was far from the “norm” in many ways: her
looks, her way of thinking, her background, and her living situation.
She wasn’t anything like other kids her age, and it had gotten to the
point that she was used to people being creeped out by it.
The second was that normal people had a hard time dealing with
anyone who wasn’t also "normal”. Those "normal" people would go
after those who didn't quite fit the mould, driving them out to protect
the status quo of their "normal" world. It was like the ducks in those
fairy tales, who drove the ugly duckling out of the flock. Perhaps this
was just a natural instinct that all living beings possessed.
So, no matter where Ai found herself, be it at school, in the orphanage,
or with B-Komachi, she always ended up as the odd one out. In the
eyes of those “normal”looked incredibly awkward on
them, but to Ai, it was a welcome change from the looks they'd given
her so far.
“Well, we’re heading to the changing room now.” With that, the two of
them turned on their heels and left the meeting room.
The president watched them walk away, before quietly asking, “Hey,
Ai. What was all that about, just now?”
“Hmm, well…socialising with the other B-Komachi members, I guess?
Reaffirming our friendship?” Ai said with a smile.
“Huh?” The president looked thoroughly unconvinced.
Certainly, Ai did not feel the slightest bit of camaraderie with those
girls. Even the bow she had performed hadn’t been a genuine act of
apology.
It wasn’t just the fans that an idol had to deceive with their lies. The
same applied to their fellow members. It was simply the most
convenient way to match up with these girls’ idea of “normal”.
Using them was the quickest path to reaching her goal, after all.
“I just told you that I found something that I want to do, right?”
“Yeah. What was it, anyway?” the president asked, tilting his head in
curiosity.
“I want to ‘stan’ all of Japan, as an idol,” Ai told him.
“All of Japan?”
The president's eyes widened dramatically behind his sunglasses. She’s
only ever been an underground idol, what is this girl saying? — they
seemed to say.
“You told me about the fan letters last Sunday, President.”
“So I did.”
“After that, I gave them a read. I had them all stashed in my locker
and…I was a bit surprised. Everyone was pouring out their love, and
they didn’t hold back at all. I was like, maybe I’m more beloved than I
thought.”
She wasn’t “normal”, so people wouldn’t love her — that was what
she’d always believed. But as it turned out, she might have gotten it all
wrong. Even for someone like her, there were people who really loved
her from the bottom of their hearts. Those fan letters tucked away in
the locker had taught her just that.
“And so, like. I want to be like that, too.”
“Like what? What do you mean?”
“I want to love other people properly. I want to become someone who
can stan somebody else…or something? I mean, just look at me. I'm
totally lacking in that department.” As Ai uttered those words, a laugh
came bubbling out of her. “Ahaha! It’s kinda embarrassing saying this
stuff out loud, huh?”
Love for your neighbour. Love for your family. Love for your partner.
And beyond that, love for an idol. There were many forms of love, and
she was in no position to claim that she understood all of them.
And that was exactly why she had to face her supporters, Ai thought. If
she could learn how to stan someone, maybe she could learn how to
love someone, too. If she did that, then maybe she could be reborn as a
proper human being.
“But that’s why, I thought I'd start with trying to be on the ‘stanning’
side for now.”
“The ‘stanning’ side?”
“Instead of just being supported, I also want to try cheering on every
one of my fans.”
Each and every fan letter inside that locker contained the stories of
people from all walks of life. Some were working hard at school. Some
were doing their best at their jobs. Some were struggling with troubles
at home, or suffering intense bullying. They were all there. Every
single person in the world had their own burden to bear. That was
something Ai hadn’t even been aware of until now.
In order to find a way to stan someone, she would try doing it for her
fans first. If she could cheer them up by doing that, she would be
killing two birds with one stone.
“Right, I see,” the president said, casting an eye over the papers. “So
that’s what this plan is about. Come to think of it, our new song is a
motivational song aimed at teens, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh. ‘B-Komachi’s with you all the way!’, right? That’s the idea,” Ai
said, flashing him a smile.
How could she lift the spirits of everyone who came to watch her at B-
Komachi’s concerts? That was the thing Ai had been puzzling over the
past few days. It had been the most fun she’d had since joining B-
Komachi. Perhaps “the joy of being a stan” the president had talked
about truly did exist.
“In the fan letters I read, there were a lot of people saying they listen
to B-Komachi’s songs to cheer themselves up. I thought it’d be nice if
the new song can do that for someone who’s feeling sad or hurt. I want
to help them deal with it, even if it’s just a little bit.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea you’ve got there.” The president nodded, a
gentle smile on his face. He put his cigarette in the ashtray and blew
out a lungful of smoke, seemingly in a good mood.
“An idol is a far more powerful being than you can imagine, you see.
Who knows, there might be fans whose lives were completely changed
because they listened to your songs.”
“Completely changed?”
“Yes, exactly. I’m not all that different, actually. Back when I was a
student, when I was struggling with job hunting, I was saved by an
idol song. That’s why I got into this industry. An idol has the power to
change the way people live their lives. The more I think about it, the
more amazing it seems.”
To change someone’s whole life just by singing and dancing. It really
was amazing. In a way, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to call it
the work of a god.
“So basically, President, I’m like a god…no, maybe a goddess? An
absolute divine being, blessed with beauty, a heavenly voice, and
dancing skills.”
“I said nothing of the sort! Aren’t you taking it way too far?!”
“Well… I’ve proved that my fans actually love me like crazy, so... at this
rate, it feels like I could start a religion or something. They can
worship me as Ai-sama, the living goddess.”
The president looked stunned. “Maybe telling you about the fan letters
was a bad idea,” he muttered with a wry smile. “Anyway, I’m glad
you’re okay now. It looks like you’ve mostly taken care of the issues
with the other members, too.”
“Mhm. I kinda just stopped caring about it.”
As long as she stayed in B-Komachi, it meant that she would have to
continue putting up with the same harassment, even now. But at that
moment, Ai was on cloud nine, and none of that even mattered.
She was happy that her fans loved and supported her. And she would
surely enjoy supporting them in return as well. Everything that Ai
planned to do from this point forth, all of it was to bring happiness to
her and to the world.
"I've decided to 'stan' everyone. Adults, children, the elderly, happy
people, unhappy people, all of them. Of course, that means the other
members of B-Komachi too."
From the start, she’d never held any hatred for them. If they wanted to
pick on her, let them. Whatever they needed to do to feel satisfied —
let them.
Ai intended to ‘stan’ even those girls. If they wanted more lines to sing,
she’d let them have as many as they wanted. If they wanted to stand
out on stage, she’d back them up as much as she needed to. As long as
they were happy, Ai, by supporting them, would surely find enjoyment
in it too.
“I just want everyone to be happy. I’m ‘stanning’ the whole of Japan,
after all.”
“So you’re ‘stanning’ the entire population of the country, even the lot
you have trouble with, huh — you sure talk big.”
“President, you know me by now. Hoshino Ai is a greedy girl.”
“That’s right,” the president chuckled. “You really aren’t normal.
You’re an idol, through and through.”people, she was the ugly duckling.
There was nothing she could do about it. The only solution was for the
ugly duckling to be banished from the flock.
"Because B Komachi's getting awkward, you want out?"
“Yeah.” Meeting the president's searching gaze, Ai nodded. "You told
me before, president. It's okay to say ‘I love you’ even if I’m lying.
While I’m saying ‘I love you’ to everyone, it might turn into the truth.”
"So I did," he nodded.
Those were the words he’d used to scout her back then. Even if she
didn’t remember loving anyone or ever being loved in return, it was
still okay for her to say it — curious if she really could do such a thing,
at the time, Ai had accepted the man’s offer. It still hadn't been that
long ago.
"But, you know, it turned out the other way around."
"Huh?"
“The more I work and the harder I try, the madder everyone in B-
Komachi gets. Forget loving everyone, it feels like I’m just spreading
hate instead. I just think, this isn’t really what I wanted, you know?”
In B-Komachi, there were people who spent every day making her life
miserable. She might have been used to it, but being pummelled with
such undisguised malice like that still did a number on her. On the
days she saw nasty rumors online, her motivation would dwindle. On
the days her things got destroyed, her sighs would become that much
more frequent.
A smile was an idol’s most important asset, but how was she supposed
to smile in a situation like this? Even so, there were times she had no
choice but to plaster a smile on for the cameras all while thinking
about how completely absurd it all seemed.
What am I even working as an idol for? — she’d wonder to herself.
"I mean, I get where you're coming from, but…" Once again, a troubled
look passed over the president's face. He picked up his half-finished
cigarette from the ashtray and took another puff, exhaling a cloud of
hazy smoke. "It's still too early to give up. Sometimes things just don't
work out, even if you try your best. That's life."
"But, President, you come off like the type who fails at life no matter
what you try..."
The president choked abruptly. In his surprise at her retort, it seemed
like he’d let the smoke in his lungs take an unexpected detour. "W-wait
just a minute, the way you say things is way too harsh, seriously!"
“It doesn't look like things are working out for you right now, though?”
“You…what do you…”
“You're stuck in debt, and you're struggling with the management of
this agency as well…and to top it off, you got totally banned from a
cabaret club after you drank too much and annoyed the hostesses,
didn't you?”
“Yeah, fine, you're right! It's just like you said, but come on! Who even
told you all that?!”
"Miyako-san did."
She was one of the staff members working at Strawberry Productions.
A stylish and beautiful woman, who apparently had once been active
as a race queen and an event companion. They were not particularly
close, but of the people in this agency, she was one of the few with
whom Ai could have a decent conversation.
Ai gazed steadily at the president's sunglasses. "I know times are
tough, President, but cheer up, okay?"
"Hey, quit that! Enough with the pity eyes! I'll actually start feeling
sorry for myself!" He dropped his head into his hands and sighed,
cursing under his breath. "You just blurt out whatever's on your mind,
with no consideration for others…you're something else altogether,
you know that?"
"I am? Thanks!" she grinned.
"That wasn't a compliment!" the president furrowed his brow.
"Honestly, I can see why the others are getting more riled up with you.
I haven’t got a problem with it, but…if you’re already grating on
someone, it's just going to push them over the edge."
“Is that really how it is…?” All Ai ever did was say what was on her
mind, plain and simple. It wasn't like she was going out of her way to
make people either like or dislike her. "But that's just it. If I'm the one
spoiling things, I feel like I should just leave."
"No, I ain't saying you're entirely to blame. Actually, it's the girls
getting jealous of you who’re the real issue."
The president stubbed out the remains of his cigarette on the ashtray,
and long-sufferingly took out a new one from his breast pocket. That
cigarette was lit, and then the president kept on talking.
“Granted, it's the same story no matter where you are in this industry.”
“It is?”
“It's a maelstrom of envy and spite. No matter if it's small fries like us
or the big shots who perform on the Kōhaku Uta Gassen, it's the same
everywhere. The essence of an idol doesn't change.”
“The essence of an idol?”
"See, there are these girls who can't stand it when someone steals the
spotlight. And when they get ticked off, all they want is to drag that
person down. It's tall poppy syndrome in action. I can guarantee you
that even if the members insist they’re all friends, there's no group
where that's true. At the end of the day, idols are narcissism in the
flesh," the president grumbled.
Ai, too, had realised this in the last few months: the fact that idols
weren’t quite the glamourous beings they appeared to be.
The president continued with a complicated look on his face.
"Even in those big-shot groups, it happens from time to time. A
member who's riding high on popularity, announcing her retirement
out of nowhere. Pull back the curtains, and you'll find a whole load of
vicious bullying that was going on among the members. The entire
industry's like that.”
"Ah, that's the kind of stuff that ends up getting put in the tabloids…"
The president crushed his cigarette into the ashtray with a cold
expression.
“For every idol who makes it big, there's hundreds, if not thousands of
failures. It's that sort of world. Everyone's struggling desperately to
stay afloat. You face ruthless competition and your mind is worn
down, and in the end you'll resort to any method in order to bring the
others down. You get where I'm coming from, right?”
Ai tilted her head thoughtfully. “Hmm…”
As she saw it, singing on stage was just a job at the end of the day.
Making the audience happy, getting compliments about how cute she
was — that was just another part of it. So it didn’t really matter to her
who in B-Komachi got to be the centre, or who was getting the most
attention from fans.
"Even if another girl was more popular than me, I don't think I'd want
to drag her down or anything like that.”
When Ai said this, the president’s eyes widened in bewilderment.
“Huh…why is that?”
“‘Cause even if you’re popular with the fans, that’s just what everyone
else thinks. I don’t really care about it.”
“What do you mean, you don’t care?”
“Whether they praise me or criticise me, I’m still me, aren’t I? No
matter if I’m standing in the centre of the stage or on the side, it
doesn’t change what I do as an idol.”
“Ah…” The president looked troubled by Ai’s response. “So that’s how it
is. This is gonna be difficult.”
“What is?”
“That huge gap in attitude between you and the other girls. For better
or worse, you’re a whole different breed.”
Different. That was a label that Ai had gotten used to.
In the end, everything came back to that. She was “different”. She
“couldn’t read the room”. That was why she couldn't understand
anyone. It didn’t matter if it was an idol’s “normal” or a regular
person’s “normal” – she didn’t understand any of it
“You know, I've been thinking it over and over. Like, maybe I was
never cut out to be an idol to begin with.”
The president shook his head. “I’m telling you, that’s not true at all.
Come on, Ai. Won’t you reconsider?” He clasped his hands in front of
his face in a deep bow. “We’ve just finished making our new song. The
venue for your next concert’s already been decided, too. If we lose you
as the centre now, both me and B-Komachi will be done for.”
“Hmm…really?” said Ai, tilting her head. “But even if I leave, you can
just get someone else to be the centre or recruit someone new, right?”
There were who knows how many other idolsout there. Surely, among
that number, there had to be girls who could sing and dance better
than she did, with better people skills to boot. Even the president
should be able to find a replacement in no time.
“Whoever the centre is, there's no way things could be worse than
they are right now.”
“No, that’s not…” The president started to protest, before quickly
falling silent. Some part of him was likely wondering if swapping out
the centre really might fix the group's atmosphere. He probably had
the right idea, and any other sensible person would've thought the
same thing. To give him the extra encouragement, she flashed the
president a bright smile.
“You want B-Komachi to succeed too, right President?”
“Obviously. Just how much do you think I’ve invested into getting you
girls up to scratch?”
“If so, what are you waiting for?”
“Damn it,” the president muttered, scratching the back of his head.
Once more, he fished the box of cigarettes from his inner pocket, only
to find he'd already smoked the last one. He crushed the empty box in
his hand with palpable frustration. “What about you, then? What are
you going to do?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Ai widened her eyes. “Huh?
Me? What about me?”
“I’m asking, what are you planning to do after you stop being an idol?
Just go back to being an ordinary girl?”
An ordinary girl. If I really were an “ordinary” girl, I wouldn’t quit
being an idol in the first place. It’s kind of ironic, Ai thought to herself.
"I don't think things'll be that different even when I quit. It's not like
I'm a real celebrity yet, anyway."
After all, B-Komachi was no more than an underground idol group,
who just so happened to be signed with an agency. As fame went, she
didn't think they were much different from any other member of the
public. Even if their fanbase was growing, it wasn't like they were
making TV appearances, and they'd never broken into the Oricon
charts either. At best, they had an internet radio programme to their
name and that was about it.
In the grand scheme of things, an underground idol announcing her
graduation was no big deal. It would be one thing for an idol who was
a household name to step down; but among the hundreds of others
across the country in the same situation, a single unsuccessful idol
would simply vanish without a trace. Nobody online would even
notice they were gone.
Ai folded her arms across her chest and nodded to herself. "I guess you
have a point. Once I'm out, maybe I’ll start taking school a little more
seriously. I'm probably not smart enough for high school, so…I might
as well try and make the most out of middle school while I'm there."
The president nodded solemnly. “Is that so?” He met her gaze directly.
“You’ve made up your mind, then?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed deeply. "Alright. You win. If you want to enjoy your student
life, go ahead. Do what you wanna do.”
“So you're saying I can quit?”
“It's not like you're going to listen even if I keep talking.”
“Oh, you know me so well, President!”
“Believe me, I wish I didn't,” he scowled.
The president had only known her for about half a year, but it seemed
like he had been paying fairly close attention to her. Although Ai
hadn’t managed to remember his name, in the end.
“Well, I guess that settles it then,” Ai said. As she made to stand up
from her seat, the president perked up as well, as if just remembering
something.
“Ah! No, hold on just a second.”
“Huh?”
“Before you quit, I’ve got a job for you.”
“A job?” Ai tilted her head in confusion. Just what was this all
about? she wondered.
“Come with me next Sunday. There's one last thing I want you to do.”
※
Rows upon rows of skyscrapers filled her vision, and brilliantly
sparkling display windows reflected the dazzling summer sun. With it
being midday on the weekend, the streets of Ginza were bustling with
people.
The traffic lights changed, and the crowd all surged forward as one.
For some reason, it made Ai remember something she'd seen on TV
once, about schools of fish swimming in the southern seas. Smaller
fish would gather together in packs to try and fend off bigger
predators. It was one of their natural defence mechanisms.
Just like those fish, did people feel the urge to gather in groups, too? As
she mulled over the thought, the president, walking next to her, spoke
up. “What's with the long face? Was that Italian restaurant before not
to your taste?"
“No, it’s not that,” Ai replied, as they crossed the road.
It had been five days since she announced her resignation in that
meeting room. In that time, Ai had gone through the motions of her
usual dance lessons and online meet-and-greet events, and before she
knew it, Sunday had arrived.
For her final assignment, the president had brought her downtown.
Naturally, he hadn’t brought her directly to the workplace, and as the
first order of business the president had treated her to lunch. They
had gone to an Italian family restaurant next to Ginza station, a well-
known chain with branches all over the country. It was cheap and
casual, the kind of place students could spend hours at just getting
drinks from the drink bar.
The president knitted his eyebrows and said, “Oh, is that it? Are you
upset about the ¥300 doria that you got? A family restaurant isn't
exactly where you'd expect the president of a talent agency to treat
you, after all.”
"I’m not upset at all. I mean, I like doria. And it's not like you or the
agency have a ton of money right now."
"You don't mince words, do you? Well, it's true, no denying that."
The president laughed uncomfortably. He was dressed unassumingly
in a plain white shirt and dark blue trousers. His watch was the off-
brand variety, and apart from his beloved sunglasses — the sole
overseas product on his person — everything else was basic and
budget-friendly. As looks went, it was nothing like the popular image
of an “industry figure” or a “company president”. As he himself had
admitted, it was a testament to his financial woes.
Shoulders drooping, the president shook his head and sighed.
“Honestly, I also really wanted to treat you to sushi or eel, something
fancier. I wanted to order some expensive shochu, too. But the world
ain't kind to the weak."
“Think of it this way. If B-Komachi gets big, you’ll be all smiles, right?
You’ll be able to drink shochu like juice.”
"Yeah, it'd be real nice if that happened," he muttered, with a
disgruntled look in Ai’s direction. "But with the top earner in B-
Komachi on the outs, all I'm seeing on the horizon for my life plans are
storm clouds."
If they lingered on the president’s financial plight any longer, it looked
like they were going to loop back around to that thorny topic again.
Seeing this, Ai deftly changed tracks.
“So President, what’s this job you wanted me to do? It wasn’t just
lunch, right?”
“Yeah, we’re just getting started.”
He led the way as he spoke, guiding her through the bustling crowds.
They walked past the massive department stores of Nishi-Ginza,
turning into a street lined with small boutiques.
Just how far was the president planning on walking? Heat rippled
from the asphalt in a hazy shimmer, and the lack of greenery in the
city centre only made the summer that much hotter. Ai wasn't keen on
traipsing around in the sun for much longer if she could avoid it.
She fanned her face with one hand. “Are we there yet?”
“Not yet. Just bear with me a little longer.”
Her response was a meek nod. “Okay…”
Well, she did still owe him for taking care of her, even if it had been
for a short while. If this was supposed to be her last job, she supposed
she could tolerate a bit of discomfort.
As they made their way down Ginza's main street, she caught a few
fleeting glances from the passing crowd. Snippets of their hushed
comments drifted her way: "Did you see that girl just now? She's super
cute," as well as remarks like, "Is she a celebrity?"
“It’s a damn shame,” the president grumbled suddenly, as he
continued walking.
“Huh? What is?”“I'm talking about you. Just strolling down the street, you manage to
turn heads left and right. It's a shame to see you leave the idol scene.”
“Well yeah, it's 'cause I'm cute.” Ai responded without missing a beat,
and the president clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Exactly. It's irritating precisely because you're cute.”
“None of those people just now seemed like they knew anything about
B-Komachi, though. Maybe that's all I amount to?”
For A-list celebrities, even a quick outing required putting on a
disguise, especially so now the internet was taking over. All it took was
a split second and someone's smartphone camera, and your private
life became the latest ripple in the vast sea of information that was the
net.
However, underground idols the likes of B-Komachi had no such
worries. Nobody in wider society was dying to know the inner
workings of so-and-so's private life. That low demand resulted in even
lower supply, since there was no draw for the types of people who
tended to leak that kind of information in the first place. It was
downright idyllic compared to the world that the big shots lived in.
As a result, the agency had never bothered to tell Ai to disguise herself,
and she had no need to cover her face when she was outside. All the
better for her, since it meant she didn't have to go through the extra
trouble.
“No, no,” the president sniffed indignantly. "It's just that, being an
underground idol, your reach is limited. It's only natural you're not
widely recognized. But there are plenty of folks rooting for you, you
know."
“I guess so, I do feel like I get pretty good reactions online whenever I
check.” Ai was no exception when it came to egosurfing. The fans’
opinions were a reflection of an idol’s own worth, and understanding
that was a part of her job as well. "But 'pretty good' is about as far as it
goes. And it's not like me or B-Komachi's ever made it into the trending
lists."
"Sure, we can't compete with the top idols when it comes to the sheer
number of fans. But even then, there's a solid bunch who really do
love you from the bottom of their hearts."
“From the bottom of their hearts? What do you mean?”
“Come on, think of the fan letters. You get quite a few of those after
every concert, don't you?”
What's he talking about? she wondered. The president must have
picked up on her confusion, because he carried on.
"Unlike the internet where you can just type out a quick 'I love you’,
fan letters take time and effort to put together. You gotta be a real
dedicated fan to send letters like that."
"Oh, I guess that makes sense."
"Every time, there's a whole stack of fan letters with your name on
them, you know. And it's not just one-offs; I keep seeing them from the
same folks. It means you've got yourself a loyal fanbase."
“Huh…I see.”
“‘You see’…? Why are you talking like this is someone else’s business? I
made sure to hand them over to you every single time.”
“Oh…right. You did?”
She had, in fact, completely forgotten about the existence of fan letters
until the president brought it up. The ones she'd gotten had been
stuffed into her locker at the agency alongside all the other paperwork
they gave her.
He fixed her with an incredulous stare. "You haven't been reading
them, have you? You really couldn't care less about this stuff, huh?"
“I mean, I don’t like reading letters, so…”
“Why?”
“Why indeed? Who knows.” Ai shrugged evasively.
She had her reasons. It had started back when she was much younger
— just after she'd been taken from her mother and placed in the child
care facility.
Back then, all Ai did was sit around waiting to hear from her mother.
Despite the constant violence towards her, she was still Ai's mother by
blood. Even if something came up and she couldn't come by in person,
surely she would still reach out some way or another. Fueled by this
anticipation, Ai would find herself in staring matches with the
facility's mailbox, day in and day out.
But in the end, not a single thing from her mother ever arrived. What
Ai actually received was just a letter from some lawyer claiming to
represent her mother, right in the middle of her first winter at the
facility. According to the lawyer's letter, Ai's mother had vanished
after her release, and her current whereabouts were a mystery.
My mum had abandoned me. — That was the heartless truth the letter
had revealed to her.
Surely, Ai must have been despised by her mother all along. A
daughter who wasn’t “normal”, who couldn’t read the mood — of
course her mother wouldn't have wanted a girl like that in her life.
In any case, she had given up on staring out the mailbox soon after. In
fact, Ai mused, she had come to dread seeing letters altogether. She
just couldn’t shake the sense that whenever she opened one, there
would be something unpleasant written inside.
“Well, it’s not a big deal.” The president, too, had likely picked up on
something from Ai's expression. It didn't seem like he planned to dwell
on the fan letters any longer. Scanning their surroundings, he wiped
the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "I'm dying for a
drink. I'll grab something from a vending machine. Is oolong tea good
for you?"
Ai smiled lightly. The president wasn't half bad at reading the room,
she thought, sincerely impressed. Nothing like herself in the least.
※
“We’re here.”
After a while of navigating the streets around Ginza 6-chome, the
president came to a halt in front of a particular building. It stood tall, a
massive seven-story structure, covered with glass from top to bottom.
At first glance, it looked to be a haven for top-tier fashion brands; the
floor guide near the entrance showcased names like Louis Vuitton,
Gucci, and Prada. It seemed to be a large-scale, multi-brand specialty
store.
“It’s here?” Ai said uncertainty.
The president nodded. “Well, more or less.”
Brushing off her confusion, he nonchalantly pulled open the door and
strode inside with the sort of ease that implied familiarity. Ai trailed
along after him. The cool, air-conditioned interior was like an oasis in
the desert. Feeling revitalised, she breathed a sigh of relief.
From the floors to the walls, everything was the same monotone
colour and it gave the place a sort of classy atmosphere. Even the
decorations were a step up, the sort of artsy and intricate things one
would expect to see in a fancy lounge rather than a clothes store.
Countless clothes hung on the wavy, arch-shaped racks, each one more
cutting edge and trendy than the last. Somehow, every single one
managed to strike a balance between striking and stylish.
When Ai did her clothes shopping, it was usually at mass retailers that
sold clothes for cheap. In comparison, this felt like a different
dimension altogether.
Just what did the president want her to do at this store? Ai had no
idea, but for time being, all she could do was follow him, riding the
escalators up and up towards the higher floors.
Eventually, they came to a stop in a section specialising in teen girls'
fashion. Just like the rest of the store, the clothes here were anything
but ordinary. The lineup on display was nothing short of jaw-
dropping, both in terms of designs and the price tags.
“Um…” Ai began, tilting her head. “Am I gonna be modelling here or
something?”
“No, that's not it. B-Komachi’s way too underground to land modelling
gigs from big brands like these in the first place.”
She nodded in response. “That makes sense.”
After all, being a fashion model meant becoming a figure people not
only looked up to, but admired enough to say, "I want to wear what
she's wearing." It was about igniting that impulse to buy. From that
perspective, there was no way an underground idol in a group formed
just three months ago would be able to carry the kind of weight
expected of a model. At the very least, you had to be a regular on two
or three TV programmes, or boast a popularity level that matched —
or so she'd heard from the agency.
“That being said,” the president continued.“If we keep selling, we’ll
make it to the modelling business eventually. Especially you, Ai. With
your looks, you’d — “
“Ah…yeah, enough of that. I'm quitting as an idol, anyway.”
““Damn it, it’s like talking to a brick wall…”
His expression took a downturn into a disappointed frown. Even if he
gave her that look, Ai thought, at this point, she hadn't the slightest
intention to change her mind.
“More importantly, President, why’d you bring me here?”
“To do some shopping, of course.”
“Shopping? Are you buying something, President?”
He nodded. “That's right.”
What on earth was going on?
“You know this is a shop for girls, right? I don’t think they’ve got
anything for old guys like you.”
“The cheek of this kid…‘old guy’?! In case you hadn’t noticed, I'm still
in the prime of my youth.”
That’s exactly what an old guy would say — Ai thought, but wisely
decided to keep to herself.
“Ah, now I get it. Are you buying a gift for your girlfriend, President?
You like them young, after all…“
Finally, it clicked. The president, being considerably older than his
girlfriend, needed the insights of a girl closer to her age in order to
pick out the perfect gift. If that was the case, that explained why Ai
had been roped into this.
“Well, not that I should be getting into your business or anything, but…
President, be careful when you mess with underage girls, okay?
Nowadays, you’ll seriously end up in jail.”
“What are you talking about? The clothes are for you.”
“Huh?” Ai couldn’t believe her ears. “For me? What do you mean?”
Brushing over her puzzlement for the second time, the president
called the shop assistant over. “Please get this girl an outfit that’ll suit
her.”
"Sure thing!" The shop assistant, who had been hovering nearby, piped
up cheerfully. Dressed in a vivid pink knitted dress, her hair streaked
with highlights and a burst of colourful underdye, she exuded an
impressive sense of style. When her gaze landed on Ai, her eyes
widened in surprise. “Oh wow, what a lovely young lady! Are you out
shopping with your papa today?”
“Uh, that’s not exactly…”
Ai glanced up at the president. With a solid poker face, he nodded and
declared, "Yep, I'm her father." He must have decided an actual
explanation of the situation would be too much of a hassle.
Resigned, Ai reluctantly played along, chiming in with a half-hearted,
"Yeah, pretty much." Tugging on the president's sleeve, she whispered,
“…So, how did this turn into you buying clothes for me? Is this the job
you were talking about?”
“Yeah, it is. It's been bothering me for a while now.”
“What has?”
“Whenever you're in your own clothes, it just screams that you're a
country girl for anyone looking. I thought it's about time you started
wearing something a little more decent, at least when you're out and
about.”
“What’s ‘something decent’ supposed to mean…?”
Ai was about to argue, but abruptly fell silent when something caught
her eye at the edge of her vision. It was her own reflection staring
back at her from the mirror on the fitting room door, plain as plain
could be.
Her no-brand T-shirt was covered by a summer jacket that she’d found
on sale for ¥1980 at a nearby clothing store. Her jeans sported ragged
holes around the knees, but rather than being a fashion statement, it
was simply the product of sheer overuse.
Well, it was true that she wasn’t exactly fashionable by anyone’s
standards. Calling her a country girl wasn't really out of line. Up until
now, Ai hadn't given it much thought, but she had to admit the odds of
encountering a girl strolling through downtown Tokyo in clothes like
hers were pretty slim.
“You see?” said the president with a smile. “You're not just an idol.
You're a growing girl and you're getting to be about the right age for
this kind of thing. Dressing up a bit won't hurt.  Anyway, take your
time and pick what you like.”
With that, the president walked out of the shop, presumably for a
smoke.
The shop assistant smiled gently at Ai, who had been left behind. “Your
papa’s nice.”
Ai could only say, “Uh-huh.” She wasn’t sure if she could call that
“being nice”.
Maybe the president was trying to win Ai over with materialistic
gestures. Showering her with pricey gifts, putting her in his debt,
making it harder for her to walk away from the agency — perhaps
that was the plan.
It was pointless to try, Ai thought. So far, her feelings hadn't budged on
the matter.
Oblivious to what was going on in Ai’s head, the shop assistant
continued with her sales talk.
“Right then…for a petite and slender girl like you, a bit of a girly look
might suit you better. Shall we try maybe a ruffle blouse? Ah, but
going the opposite direction with something more boyish would look
cool as well. It’d make a nice contrast with your delicate looks.”
To be frank, Ai had been on the brink of telling her that she wasn’t
interested in either option; but this was the job she’d been brought
here for, and she had no choice. Ai resigned herself to going along
with whatever the shop assistant had in mind. The sooner it was over,
the sooner she could head home.
“For now I’ll just go with whatever you recommend, onee-san.”
Ai put on a smile and quietly went along with the shop assistant's
recommendations. Faking smiles was her specialty, after all.
※
Ai spent the next hour or so trapped in the fitting room, changing in
and out of a massive plethora of outfits: a blouse with overalls, a
camisole with a flared skirt, and the list went on and on. They cycled
through an array of styles, including prim-and-proper, feminine,
conservative, American casual — anything the shop assistant could get
her hands on.
It felt as though they had exhausted the entire clothing inventory on
that floor. Ai even began to suspect that, judging by the sheer volume
of clothes, some must have come from the other floors too.
Apparently, Ai was “so cute that I just can't help myself but try out all
kinds of outfits on you,” as the shop assistant had put it. While it was
nice that the woman seemed to be having a good time, Ai was in
complete misery. This must be how it felt like to be a dress-up doll.
“Out of everything we’ve tried, I think this suits you best.”
In the end, the shop assistant had settled on a cute polka dot white
dress. Its open back was secured by a ribbon tied in a sizable bow,
which gave it a fancy kind of air. It was the sort of thing she could
wear to a B-Komachi event and not look out of place. Come to think of
it, Ai thought, I’ve never worn something this cute that wasn’t for
work.
As if fully convinced by her own judgement, the shop assistant nodded
vigorously to herself and hummed in approval several times.
"It suits you perfectly! You look just like an idol."
Ai sighed. “An idol, huh…”
Hearing that stirred up a mix of feelings inside her. For now, however,
Ai offered the shop assistant a half-hearted thanks with a placating
smile and made her way out of the fitting room.
That being said, was the president not back yet? How was she going to
pay for this dress? As Ai peered around, her eyes suddenly met with a
familiar face.
“Ah, it’s Ai.”
“Fancy seeing you here…in a place like this, I mean.”
Two girls around Ai’s age came down the escalator. Both were
members of B-Komachi. One had the eyes of a fox and long, light
brown hair, while the other had chubby-cheeks with a round bob cut.
As for their names…Ai had completely forgotten them.
Were they shopping together too? What a coincidence. An unfortunate
one, given that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see them.
“Um…” As Ai hesitated, unsure of what to say to them, the girl with
foxy eyes spoke up.
“We just saw President Saitou in the smoking area upstairs. What’s the
deal? Did you two come here together?”
Right, that explained the faint smell of tobacco on them. They had just
come from the smoking area. Quite daring for idols, Ai thought, to be
going into places like that.
"Yeah, we did," Ai responded with a nod, and this time, the one with
the chubby cheeks narrowedhad
been paying more attention to their concerts than she expected.
She had originally thought that his job was mostly just things like
securing the venue bookings for their concerts, or negotiating with
bands they sometimes appeared on stage with. In other words,
managing the agency’s external affairs. As for their concerts and the
rest of it, that was usually left up to the stage management staff on-
site.
Up until now, Ai had thought of the president as someone who didn’t
really care about those sorts of details. But that same president had
been paying such close attention to her, and she had never even
noticed. There was no disguising her shock.
“Nobody else in B-Komachi puts in even half as much effort. That's
why Ai's the best fit for the centre. If you want a shot at it, show me
you're just as capable."
His firm words had left them both with sour faces, and Foxy Eyes
huffed in annoyance.
"B-but…even if she's 'capable' or whatever, it's annoying how blatantly
you play favourites with her. I mean, she even got you to personally
buy her gifts and stuff."
"Exactly. It's such a downer," Chubby Cheeks interjected.
With an exhausted sigh, the president pushed up his sunglasses. "This
ain't a gift. It's compensation, plain and simple."
“Compensation?” Ai repeated. What was this about? As she tilted her
head, the president made to explain himself.
“Look, someone messed with your regular clothes in the changing
room last week, remember? The ones that got ripped into shreds.”
“Ah…” Ai recalled, as she was reminded by the president’s words. “Was
that a thing…?”
Now that he mentioned it, she had headed into the dressing room after
one of her dance lessons one day and found her favourite summer
jacket reduced to ribbons. It looked like someone had mercilessly
ripped through it over and over with a pair of scissors, to the point
that a tattered rag would have made for a better jacket. She had ended
up going home in her practice gear that day.
But that was just more of the bullying she had been putting up with
already. And it was hardly the first time Ai’s things had been messed
with. That jacket had been old and kind of dirty, anyway, and there
was a part of her that hadn't been that sorry to see it go.
But the president didn't seem to feel the same way.
"If this ends up in court, the agency would be held responsible for
poor management. At the very least, an apology was in order."
“Oh, so that's what you meant.” Ai glanced down at the dress she'd
been made to wear. As a substitute for her worn-out old jacket, it felt
rather extravagant. It was as if she’d gone fishing for goldfish and
landed a whale instead. “Even though I couldn't care less about that
jacket…you're way too serious, President.”
"For matters like this, you've got to stick to your principles. In this
industry that's overflowing with lies and deceit, maintaining at least a
shred of sincerity is important to me. Isn't that right?" He shot a
pointed glance at Foxy Eyes and Chubby Cheeks. "That goes for you
two as well. No more playing dirty. If you're aiming to take over as the
centre, fight for it fair and square, like proper idols."
It was such a logical, no-nonsense argument from the perspective of
the president of the agency that the girls simply had no room to argue.
They exchanged an uncomfortable glance with each other.
“…I have no idea what he’s talking about. This is dumb.”
“Let’s just go.”
With that, the two of them beat a hasty retreat to the elevator. They
had been so eager to get in Ai's face just a moment ago, but now they
didn't even give her so much as a glance. How strange, Ai thought as
she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. That's as good as
admitting they're behind the jacket incident.
“They've got a knack for insults, but they're downright lousy when it
comes to lying. If they keep this up, it'll be hard for them to continue
as idols,” the president muttered as he watched them go. “Sorry about
that. I’ll make sure those girls take full responsibility later.”
“Mmh. Well, it doesn’t really matter to me though.” Ai looked up at the
president, and he frowned in response.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, I was just a bit surprised.”
“Surprised? What about?”
"It's just…President's been keeping a closer eye on me than I thought. I
didn't think you'd care about fights between your agency's idols."
“No, obviously I care,” the president said with a grimace. “Hold on, just
what do you take me for?"
“Some sketchy guy who plays around.”
“Didn't even hesitate! I sure appreciate the honesty!" the president
harrumphed. "Well, how should I put it…you and B-Komachi are both
precious to me.”
“You’re making a bunch of money off us, right?” Ai wondered if she
was being a little harsh, but she spoke her mind without holding back
anyway.
As she did so, the president just nodded. “Well, you're not wrong.” It
was rather admirable of him to admit it so readily. “Without you girls,
I wouldn’t be able to put food on my plate. I ain't denying that. But
that’s not the only reason.”
“It’s not?”
"How do I put this? It's hard to say…" The president looked up at the
ceiling, scratching his cheek. "You noticed, right? Recently, there's
more folks showing up at our concerts, and our songs are actually
selling. When I see you girls out there…it makes me dream a bit, I
guess.”
“Dream?”
It was a far more romantic reply than Ai had expected. If asked, she
wouldn't have pegged the president as much of a dreamer. In her
mind, he was the realistic type who was happy so long as they were
selling well, and that was it.
The president pressed a finger to his lips, as if shushing her. "Keep this
between us, alright?" he said, a little playfully. "You all started off as
amateurs at singing and dancing. But with each drop of blood, every
bead of sweat, and the tears you shed day after day, bit by bit, you’re
turning into bona fide idols. Doesn't that light a fire in you? That's the
real deal you can't find in manga or movies. When I'm cheering for
you to reach the stars, just that can lift my mood."
"Just by cheering for us? It really makes you that happy?"
He met her question with an emphatic nod. "Yeah. It absolutely does."
His assertive tone left no room for argument, and Ai’s lips parted in
surprise. "Think about it. The legend of B-Komachi's getting written in
real time with my help. There's nothing more satisfying than that. It's
what they call 'the joy of being a stan'."
“‘The joy of being a stan’, huh…I don't get it.”
Ai tilted her head, and the president gave her a look of surprise.
“Huh? You don't? You really don't get it?”
“Hmm…I've seen fans write stuff like 'I stan Ai-chan' before, but I just
don't get why you'd want to stan anyone in the first place." Even now,
after having plenty of people “stanning” her, Ai had never “stanned”
anyone in return, or felt the desire to begin with. "Even if you go all
out praising and cheering for someone, you don't actually get anything
out of it, right? …So I just don't see the point.”
The president crossed his arms, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling.
“Ah…now I get it. So that’s what you’re struggling with.”
“Maybe I just don’t get it because I’m weird.”
“Nah. It's not that weird. There's probably a lot of people out there
who see it like you do. Now, how do I explain this…” The president
stroked his chin, looking deep in thought. He fell silent for a few
seconds, before opening his mouth to speak. “Um...so the word ‘fan’
originally came from ‘fanatical’. That goes double for stans. Basically,
if you stan someone, you’re so crazy for them, you want the whole
world to know who they are, whether they want to hear about them or
not."
Ai sighed. “Crazy, huh…”
"Exactly." The president looked dead serious as he went on. "In the
internet age, it's harder than ever to get a recommendation to stick
with someone. If they're not 'into it', they'll just drop it and move on.
Heck, go about it the wrong way, and you might end up getting
harassed and labelled as a weirdo."Ai could sort of understand what the president was talking about.
Online communities were places that kept you constantly connected to
a huge number of people. Having random strangers shoot down your
opinions wasn't rare at all. In that situation, it took a lot of guts to
openly say you liked something in the first place, and even more to
persist in the face of rejection.
"However," the president pressed on, "there's people out there who
have the absolute conviction to push past that fear and passionately
advocate for what they love. Shouting at the top of your lungs, 'I don't
give a damn about what others think, this is what I love!' — that's
what being a 'stan' is about.”
It was an intensely passionate speech, to which Ai just nodded and
sighed. "Is this 'stan' thing really that serious? It kind of sounds like
you're making a big deal out of nothing."
"It is a big deal. If you're truly passionate about something, the
sacrifices you make in return don't mean a thing. Honestly, you stop
caring about things like loss and gain, full stop.”
“Really?”
"Yeah. Just look at me: I've dedicated my whole life to you girls. It's not
just my job, it's my life's mission to watch over you. If it's for you girls,
I'll borrow as much money as I need — for me, it's a small price to
pay." The president grinned, his eyes crinkling under his sunglasses.
"Well, to put it plainly, it's also a kind of love, I guess. In other words,
the joy of being a stan is the joy of loving someone."
“The joy of loving someone…”
For Ai, it was like the scales had fallen from her eyes. Until now, she
had never considered how the president might feel towards B-
Komachi. The thought had simply never crossed her mind.
The president's cheeks were tinged red as he confessed: “Basically, I’m
a hopeless fan of you girls. Whenever I've got the time, I catch myself
thinking about how I can make B-Komachi more successful.”
“You do?”
The president nodded bashfully. “Yeah. In fact, recently I’ve been
staying up late making this thing.”
From his trouser pocket, the president fished out something that
glimmered as it caught the light. It was a sheet of acrylic plastic the
size of his palm that had been made into a keychain.
Ai’s eyes widened inadvertently as she took it in. “This is…”
The keychain was decorated with a cute cartoon of Ai smiling,
accompanied by a cheesy message overflowing with affection.
“‘Ai is my star forever and ever!!!’...?” As Ai read the message out loud,
a laugh bubbled up and out of her. “Pffft! Ahahahaha! What’s this?
This is too good, President!”
“Hey, don’t laugh. I was racking my brains trying to come up with
that.”
“Nah, I’m not laughing at you, President. I really can feel your
passion!” Ai responded, struggling to hold back her laughter.
The president pulled a face. “Really now…”
It occurred to Ai to take a closer look at the keychain in the president's
hand. Upon inspection, not only was the cartoon undeniably cute, but
it was also easily and obviously recognisable as Ai herself. If they
started selling this at live events, their fans would probably be
delighted.
“It must've been tough to make.”
“Yeah, you could say that. But I had fun working on it, so much so that
I’d end up losing track of time.”
He'd been quite particular about all the details, it seemed — from
commissioning the art to the actual manufacturing process. Not to
mention, it was the first time he'd ever gotten anything like this
produced. It must've taken weeks of painstaking work to get it made.
This wouldn't have been possible if he didn't truly love B-Komachi. The
thoughtfulness of it struck a chord in her heart.
“This is just my way of showing my love for B-Komachi…wow, it's
embarrassing saying it like that.” Thoroughly embarrassed, the
president slipped the keychain back into his pocket.
The joy of being a stan, that was to say, the joy of loving a person —
those words had left a lasting impression on Ai.
People like that really existed — no fear of rejection and unphased by
sacrifice, just pure, unadulterated passion for the things they loved. It
must be a special kind of strength that came from the urge to stan
someone. Ai couldn't even begin to imagine it.
“I guess you have a point…but I don't think it's something I can
understand.” Because Ai had never loved another person, not had she
ever been loved. There was no way someone like that could
comprehend the joy of loving someone. “I really wasn't meant to be an
idol. I mean, I can't even understand your feelings or my fans’ feelings.
I can't do that for you.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Eh?” The unexpected reply had her tilting her head again.
With a soft smile, the president explained, “An idol doesn't need to
know that right out of the gate. If you don't understand it now, you can
just get to know it bit by bit.”
“Get to know it…bit by bit?”
“You became an idol because you wanted to love somebody, didn't
you? Those stans of yours are the same: it’s just another form of 'love'.
I think you could learn a lot from them."
To learn from her fans. That idea came as a surprise to Ai. After all,
fans were just a group of strangers. They were no more than clients
who existed solely to throw money at the idols singing and dancing
before them. That was how Ai had thought of them until now.
But perhaps she had been too shallow. Especially after being shown
that keychain, overflowing with the passion of the person who had
made it, Ai sensed that there was an incalculable power in one person
"stanning" another.
The president smiled at her, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses.
“If you're quitting anyway, why don't you take this last opportunity to
hear what your fans have to say to you personally?”
“Personally?”
“You know, in their fan letters.”
“Ah…” The reminder caused Ai to think back to the mass of letters that
she had carelessly tossed into her locker; the personal thoughts of
countless fans, each of them addressed to Ai.
Could the answer to what she was looking for be found in those
letters?
※
“Dear Ai-chan,
Your concerts are the ultimate mood lifter for me! Your dance moves
were insanely cool today~!
I was so happy when you smiled my way right before the chorus! All
the tiredness from work just vanished in an instant~!
I can't wait to come see you again!”
"Ai-chan,
I’ve been listening to your latest song. The faster tempo is fantastic!
Your voice seriously boosts my energy, so I blast it every morning on
my way to school, and it never fails to get me hyped.
I can't imagine starting my school day without this song now. Super
excited for what you've got coming next!
P.S. That moment on the radio when you said 'kiritanpo' instead of
'kiriponta' was just too cute. Lol"
“Hello, Ai-chan.
I'm a devoted listener to your streams. B-Komachi's songs and talk
shows have honestly become my sanctuary.
I'm currently stuck working to the bone at a terrible company. They
hardly pay me anything, and every day I just want to die. But what
keeps me going is knowing I have your streams to look forward to
every week. I’m not even kidding.
Ai-chan, you're my reason to live!"
Back at the agency, Ai sat down in front of her locker and began to
read through her fan letters. She went through each one slowly and
carefully, engraving each word into her heart. Before she knew it, the
day had slipped away from her. The light of the setting sun streamed
through the windows, casting an orange glow on the locker room
walls.
She had never read so many words written by other people in one
sitting. And yet, somehow she didn't feel tired at all. The energy
contained in those letters compelled Ai to reach for another as soon as
she was finished reading one.
As she opened yet another letter — she had long since lost count of
how many there had been — Ai sighed in wonder.
“It really is amazing…”
It was just like the president said. There was an incredible passion in
each and every letter. Some of them had come on cute stationary, and
others had had tiny plushies stuffed intothe envelope; it was fun
seeing just how different each one was and the effort that had gone
into them. Some of the letters had been as long as ten pages, and Ai
found herself taken by surprise at every turn.
“Everyone loves me way too much.”
In truth, the mere sight of a letter used to make her uncomfortable. It
was only because of the president that she had considered actually
opening and reading these ones on purpose. She wanted to witness for
herself the strength of the passion that came from being a "stan," and
that curiosity had won out over her usual discomfort with letters.
And as it turned out, Ai had gotten passion in spades. Compared to the
comments she saw online, the handwritten words from her fans
touched her heart on a far deeper level. Her chest swirled with a mix
of surprise and joy that threatened to burst. The things the two
members had said to her earlier in the day, the insults — it was like
they had vanished into thin air.
“I studied well for my exams because of B-Komachi's songs!”
“Ai-chan! I took up dancing because I want to become like you!”
As she read through the messages, Ai couldn't help but think that
everyone seemed to be having so much fun. Surprisingly, the fans
appeared to be enjoying their lives even more than the idols
themselves.
To stan someone. To love someone. The people sending these letters
were able to do that from the bottom of their hearts, and Ai couldn't
help but envy them from the depths of her own.
If she kept on facing these people, could she someday become like
them too? With those thoughts in her mind, Ai continued to read the
letters in silence.
※
It had been three days since then. Once more, Ai was in Strawberry
Productions’ meeting room.
“Can you take a look at this?”
She handed a sheaf of papers over to the president. It was something
she had put together after she had finished her shopping in Ginza that
day.
“Hmm?” The president flipped through the papers, eyebrows
furrowing. “Dance choreography, stage directions…even costume
arrangements. What's this?”
“We're debuting the new song at our next concert, right? I came up
with a couple ideas for how we could do it.”
B-Komachi's new songs were always revealed at the beginning of their
concerts. What Ai had prepared was a compilation of the ideas she'd
had for the occasion.
The president scratched his head, looking perplexed. “Uhh…I don't
really get any of this. It's all written by hand, and it's a mess to
decipher…it's like you just dumped your thoughts onto the page as you
had them.”
“Uh-huh. I just had a ton of ideas, you know.”
Ai puffed out her chest proudly. She had never gone all out on putting
together a plan like this before. And if it wasn't the best plan in the
world, well, that wasn't a problem for her.
The president’s eyes went back and forth between Ai and the papers in
his hands, and his head tilted in puzzlement.
“Well, setting the stuff in here aside. There’s one thing that’s bugging
me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Didn’t you tell me that you were quitting just a few days ago?”
“Yep, so I did.”
“So why are you bringing me concert plans? That's not the move of
someone ready to quit. If anything, it seems like you're overflowing
with motivation. Honestly, I can't figure out what's going through your
head,” the president said, looking baffled once again.
That was understandable, Ai thought. Just three days ago, even she
could never have imagined in her wildest dreams that this was what
she’d be doing now.
“About the quitting thing. I’m putting that on hold for now.”
“On hold?”
“I found something I want to try doing for just a little longer.”
“Huh?”
In the face of her smile, the president’s jaw dropped. It was exactly the
reaction Ai had been expecting from him; he was just too easy to read.
“Well, sorry for making you worry, I guess.”
She paired her apology with a small bow. In this industry, maintaining
a shred of sincerity was important. That was what the president had
said.
“Ah…yeah. Okay, well. I mean. I’m not sure if I should feel relieved or
suspicious.” The president's eyebrows furrowed deeply as a
complicated expression appeared on his face. “But I'm not bothered,
honestly. If you're staying in B-Komachi, that's all that counts. I don't
think anyone but you can fill the centre role.”
Ai nodded. “That makes sense. I mean, I am the most charming
member in the group.”
“There goes that self confidence again.”
“It's true, though.”
The president chuckled lightly. “So, what changed your mind? Did
hearing about my passion for B-Komachi actually get through to you?”
AI shook her head. “Nah, it wasn't that,” she replied, and the
president’s shoulders sank.
“Oh, okay,” he said. He looked a little disappointed for some reason,
which Ai thought was rather funny.
“The truth is, I’ve been — “
Just as she was about to speak, a voice came from outside the meeting
room. “Excuse us.”
In came none other than the B-Komachi members from the other day
— Foxy Eyes and Chubby Cheeks. Clearly, they hadn't counted on Ai
being in the meeting room. The moment they spotted her, their faces
pinched in undisguised discomfort.
Silence stretched out for three suffocating seconds. Finally, unable to
endure the awkwardness any further, it was the girl with the foxy eyes
who opened her mouth to speak first.
“Um…so like, about the other day, I guess we went a little overboard…”
“Ah, don't worry about it. It's no big deal,” Ai told them.  That had both
girls gaping at her in disbelief at her words. The president was no
better; he looked completely dumbfounded.
That, too, was another reaction she had been expecting. Ai smiled
lightly.
“But forget about that, let's chat about the new song that we're
debuting at our next concert. I have a few ideas.”
“Concert? What are you talking about?”
“I was just telling the president. You two are gonna be in the spotlight
way more than ever, so feel free to look forward to it.”
The one with the chubby cheeks tilted her head quizzically. “What's
this about, Ai-chan? I thought you hated us?”
“Nah, it's not like that at all. I don't hate you guys or anything. I mean,
you're my teammates in B-Komachi.”
“Teammates…?”
“If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I got carried away with
being the centre, and I ended up standing out too much…that kinda
stuff isn't nice, is it.”
As she spoke, Foxy Eyes and Chubby Cheeks shared a disbelieving
look. Their thoughts of What's with this girl, pulling a 180° like that all
of a sudden? Isn't this creepy? were written on their faces, plain as
day.
But Ai paid them no mind, instead flashing them a bright smile, saying,
“So how about we all just let it go? Water under the bridge, you
know?”
“Uh, sure…” Foxy Eyes nodded, looking at a bit of a loss. “Well, if
you're fine with that, Ai…”
The two of them fixed Ai with probing glances. Obviously, they
probably had no intentions of letting bygones be bygones. They were
just holding back from causing a scene in front of the president.
And of course, it wasn’t like Ai wanted to genuinely become close
friends with these girls either. Their opinions of her didn't matter, and
they could go on hating her behind her back if they wanted. So long as
they did the bare minimum to not cause trouble as members of B-
Komachi, she didn't mind at all.
If putting on a mask was what it took, Ai would do it. The mask of a
sensible, “normal” girl.
“I'm glad. Okay, take a look at this.”
Ai showed the two girls the document she had put together. Briefly,
she explained to them the particulars of the concert.
The duo listened without a word of protest, simply nodding in
agreement. It appeared that her promise of them "being in the
spotlight" had paid off.
Once Ai had gone through the outline of the plan, Foxy Eyes and
Round Face nodded.
“Got it.”
“Okay then, we can talk more about the details after the lesson.”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”
Faced with Ai’s cheerful grin, the two girls returned a forced smile,
their lips curling up ever so slightly. Itlooked incredibly awkward on
them, but to Ai, it was a welcome change from the looks they'd given
her so far.
“Well, we’re heading to the changing room now.” With that, the two of
them turned on their heels and left the meeting room.
The president watched them walk away, before quietly asking, “Hey,
Ai. What was all that about, just now?”
“Hmm, well…socialising with the other B-Komachi members, I guess?
Reaffirming our friendship?” Ai said with a smile.
“Huh?” The president looked thoroughly unconvinced.
Certainly, Ai did not feel the slightest bit of camaraderie with those
girls. Even the bow she had performed hadn’t been a genuine act of
apology.
It wasn’t just the fans that an idol had to deceive with their lies. The
same applied to their fellow members. It was simply the most
convenient way to match up with these girls’ idea of “normal”.
Using them was the quickest path to reaching her goal, after all.
“I just told you that I found something that I want to do, right?”
“Yeah. What was it, anyway?” the president asked, tilting his head in
curiosity.
“I want to ‘stan’ all of Japan, as an idol,” Ai told him.
“All of Japan?”
The president's eyes widened dramatically behind his sunglasses. She’s
only ever been an underground idol, what is this girl saying? — they
seemed to say.
“You told me about the fan letters last Sunday, President.”
“So I did.”
“After that, I gave them a read. I had them all stashed in my locker
and…I was a bit surprised. Everyone was pouring out their love, and
they didn’t hold back at all. I was like, maybe I’m more beloved than I
thought.”
She wasn’t “normal”, so people wouldn’t love her — that was what
she’d always believed. But as it turned out, she might have gotten it all
wrong. Even for someone like her, there were people who really loved
her from the bottom of their hearts. Those fan letters tucked away in
the locker had taught her just that.
“And so, like. I want to be like that, too.”
“Like what? What do you mean?”
“I want to love other people properly. I want to become someone who
can stan somebody else…or something? I mean, just look at me. I'm
totally lacking in that department.” As Ai uttered those words, a laugh
came bubbling out of her. “Ahaha! It’s kinda embarrassing saying this
stuff out loud, huh?”
Love for your neighbour. Love for your family. Love for your partner.
And beyond that, love for an idol. There were many forms of love, and
she was in no position to claim that she understood all of them.
And that was exactly why she had to face her supporters, Ai thought. If
she could learn how to stan someone, maybe she could learn how to
love someone, too. If she did that, then maybe she could be reborn as a
proper human being.
“But that’s why, I thought I'd start with trying to be on the ‘stanning’
side for now.”
“The ‘stanning’ side?”
“Instead of just being supported, I also want to try cheering on every
one of my fans.”
Each and every fan letter inside that locker contained the stories of
people from all walks of life. Some were working hard at school. Some
were doing their best at their jobs. Some were struggling with troubles
at home, or suffering intense bullying. They were all there. Every
single person in the world had their own burden to bear. That was
something Ai hadn’t even been aware of until now.
In order to find a way to stan someone, she would try doing it for her
fans first. If she could cheer them up by doing that, she would be
killing two birds with one stone.
“Right, I see,” the president said, casting an eye over the papers. “So
that’s what this plan is about. Come to think of it, our new song is a
motivational song aimed at teens, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh. ‘B-Komachi’s with you all the way!’, right? That’s the idea,” Ai
said, flashing him a smile.
How could she lift the spirits of everyone who came to watch her at B-
Komachi’s concerts? That was the thing Ai had been puzzling over the
past few days. It had been the most fun she’d had since joining B-
Komachi. Perhaps “the joy of being a stan” the president had talked
about truly did exist.
“In the fan letters I read, there were a lot of people saying they listen
to B-Komachi’s songs to cheer themselves up. I thought it’d be nice if
the new song can do that for someone who’s feeling sad or hurt. I want
to help them deal with it, even if it’s just a little bit.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea you’ve got there.” The president nodded, a
gentle smile on his face. He put his cigarette in the ashtray and blew
out a lungful of smoke, seemingly in a good mood.
“An idol is a far more powerful being than you can imagine, you see.
Who knows, there might be fans whose lives were completely changed
because they listened to your songs.”
“Completely changed?”
“Yes, exactly. I’m not all that different, actually. Back when I was a
student, when I was struggling with job hunting, I was saved by an
idol song. That’s why I got into this industry. An idol has the power to
change the way people live their lives. The more I think about it, the
more amazing it seems.”
To change someone’s whole life just by singing and dancing. It really
was amazing. In a way, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to call it
the work of a god.
“So basically, President, I’m like a god…no, maybe a goddess? An
absolute divine being, blessed with beauty, a heavenly voice, and
dancing skills.”
“I said nothing of the sort! Aren’t you taking it way too far?!”
“Well… I’ve proved that my fans actually love me like crazy, so... at this
rate, it feels like I could start a religion or something. They can
worship me as Ai-sama, the living goddess.”
The president looked stunned. “Maybe telling you about the fan letters
was a bad idea,” he muttered with a wry smile. “Anyway, I’m glad
you’re okay now. It looks like you’ve mostly taken care of the issues
with the other members, too.”
“Mhm. I kinda just stopped caring about it.”
As long as she stayed in B-Komachi, it meant that she would have to
continue putting up with the same harassment, even now. But at that
moment, Ai was on cloud nine, and none of that even mattered.
She was happy that her fans loved and supported her. And she would
surely enjoy supporting them in return as well. Everything that Ai
planned to do from this point forth, all of it was to bring happiness to
her and to the world.
"I've decided to 'stan' everyone. Adults, children, the elderly, happy
people, unhappy people, all of them. Of course, that means the other
members of B-Komachi too."
From the start, she’d never held any hatred for them. If they wanted to
pick on her, let them. Whatever they needed to do to feel satisfied —
let them.
Ai intended to ‘stan’ even those girls. If they wanted more lines to sing,
she’d let them have as many as they wanted. If they wanted to stand
out on stage, she’d back them up as much as she needed to. As long as
they were happy, Ai, by supporting them, would surely find enjoyment
in it too.
“I just want everyone to be happy. I’m ‘stanning’ the whole of Japan,
after all.”
“So you’re ‘stanning’ the entire population of the country, even the lot
you have trouble with, huh — you sure talk big.”
“President, you know me by now. Hoshino Ai is a greedy girl.”
“That’s right,” the president chuckled. “You really aren’t normal.
You’re an idol, through and through.”