by R. P. Mor
Chapter V – Girls in the Shell
The female athletics club meetings occurred every Monday and Friday, though there was also a spare training on Saturdays for those who wanted or couldn’t attend to other days in the week. Since it’s still raining outside, that day the club would make use of the swimming pool. On most schools it’s only open from June onwards, though internal heating systems, a thermally-isolated building, clubs that relied on it and other technicalities Naoko was unaware of made it possible on that school to have it open almost all year round.
After joining the club, Friday became even more intense for the girl since Naoko already had Physical Education in her regular school timetable to begin with. The karate classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays also always left her muscles sore the day after, but that was nothing that more workouts couldn’t solve. She was no expert in body conditioning to know if so much exercise was beneficial for her health, but Naoko felt fine and her lungs and muscle resistances improved noticeably, so she gave it no afterthoughts.
Though the metropolis looked grey and depressing, the day was great. Before classes had even started Naoko heard gossips that the director had expelled gang leader Fumio and put the other three boys who remained in the group on a disciplinary correction course. The leader would still come to the school by Monday with his parents to finish the bureaucracy, meaning his classmates would have to endure one more day with that stupid boy, but it’s enough to cheer everyone up. Especially Naoko: it made her day as bright as sunshine. So much she actually performed better than she expected in Math. She also performed exemplary in English lessons, though that one was nothing out of the ordinary.
Naoko usually did better in English than she did in Japanese, both because the foreign language wasn’t taught in the same depth as the national one and because the girl was already pretty knowledgeable on it anyway. Many games, movies, songs and videos she liked were in English, and some online friends of her also only spoke it. Mostly people related to the games speedrunning international communities and online games she used to play. They’re a lively and funny bunch, that’s for sure, and Naoko learned a lot with them, both related to the language but also other customs. While she could read anything short of a Ph.D.’s thesis on ancient English, could write with only a few typos and understand whatever people said, her spoken abilities were a notch below. She still could make herself easily understood and to think in the foreign language wasn’t too much of a problem, but there’s no way around her accent. Letters like “L” sounded slightly like the “R”s in words like “aurora”, and the “R” itself was an even worse offender. In English it sounded indescribably soft or polished, whereas her accent made it slightly dryer and on a few occasions became a “ra” or a “ru”. Some lone “S” or the sound of it as in words like “nice” became a “su” and some words like “here” were unintentionally pronounced “hea” by her. She knew it’s wrong, she just couldn’t help it – to be fair when her friends from abroad tried to pronounce Japanese words it also sounded wrong and funny. Other than that, the girl had no difficulties with it, her knowledge level in it was far more any school would ask for. If only it’s the same with the other subjects…
Master Ban’s teachings carried her through the P.E. class, the last one before break. While boys were sent to the pool, the girls were divided in two teams to play volleyball in the roofed sports court. So happy she was, in the locker room Naoko started teasing Miwa and her other friends as she saw them in their P.E. white and dark-red attires, and they did the same with her. Under the doubt of whether she or Miwa looked the most stunning – even if the only girl voting for Miwa was Naoko herself –, they started a contest to decide who looked the best, and quickly most of the girls in the class were comparing one another’s outline, asking to postpone the decision until they had their first class in the swimming pool, messing around with parallel competitions for specific features and generally having fun. Thanks to Naoko the place went from being relatively quiet (she called that locker’s room a monastery) to a party with many voices colliding, surprise exclamations and screams, laughs and so on. Amidst the happiness, though, one downcast girl clung to a bench by a wall and stood there staring at a drain on the floor.
The mood of the drama club girl from 2-5, Shiori, was as gray as the skies outside, like usual. As Naoko noticed her standing alone in a corner, the first thing that came to her mind was her first day in that school, when she had three choices of chairs to occupy. The one by the window, now she knew, was right in front of Shiori. And to think Naoko almost sat there. In a week the girl got more or less used to the second row in the front of the class, thanks to her friends. To think she could be stuck with that sobbing girl instead of Miwa and the other fun girls if the class president hadn’t invited her to sit nearby was a terrifying thought.
The short girl looked so down, though, that Naoko felt bad for her. She thought about calling Shiori over to have fun with them, but her intentions would probably be misinterpreted. The wallflower, table-flat girl with the thin glasses would most likely feel insulted to be part of a beauty contest, even though Naoko could actually see some sort of prettiness in her. Her face was beautiful and she had a petit quality that made her adorable. Well, her melancholy aside. But to tell that to her seemed inappropriate, since she wasn’t messing around like the rest.
While the undisputed title of class beauty was awarded to Naoko, the real question became who’d get second place. Miwa and a brunette student that sat by the windowed outside wall close to Shiori, named Sayuri, divided the class’ opinions. Eventually Sayuri got the best by marginal difference.
Informally crowned class beauty, Naoko was also one of the tallest, and as such, the second to be chosen, right after Miwa, by two classmates randomly assigned team leaders by the thirty-some teacher. He wasn’t very handsome, Naoko thought, since his face seemed humorously off, too similar to a baby somehow, but he was very fit and bore an impressive abdomen that showed through his t-shirt. Shiori, being small, skinny and having no friends, was left for second to last. At least she didn’t bring her thin glasses to the fray, though it’s hard to tell how good she’d be without them. Also, though not being fond of team sports, Naoko was on a roll that day and was an actually athletic person, contrary to the one centimeter higher Miwa. The class president, though being fit as a fiddle, couldn’t jump high, slapped the ball with little force, didn’t have particularly keen reflexes and quickly got tired, while Naoko’s only problem was her poor accuracy. Still, she’s able to jump far past the net’s line and block incoming balls with ease.
During a rather disputed point the ball was lobbed in the air from the back of the opponent team’s lines, giving Naoko some time to act. She jumped to intercept the ball, noticing then that Shiori cowed in anticipation. Hence the defending girl decided not to be bad and deflect the ball in the opposite direction. Left, not right. Left. Not right. When the ball came in range, her hand flung violently, hitting the object midair with a grave, low thumping sound, sending it exactly to the right. The ball passed over Miwa before the tired girl could even jump. Shiori started to panic, running in circles and screaming before the ball finally stuck her head with sniper-like precision and sent her flipping to the floor. Then the ball flew upward and fell again over her head before hitting the ground and stopping. Then it most likely would’ve come out of inertia if it could, gaining altitude and falling again on the girl just to show how bad she was at it.
“Damn you, eye-hand coordination!” Naoko thought, “Why can’t you large muscle bundles be as accurate as your sibling in the fingers?! Why?!”
Looking on the bright side, Shiori wasn’t wearing glasses.
Naoko was far from suitable for all volleyball positions, but could perform passably even in the rear ones. Furthermore, to everyone’s surprise, class beauty queen Naoko was not only the opposite of a spoilt girl and finicky player, she’s borderline suicidal. Having no qualms in jumping after a seemingly lost ball to r
ecover it even if it meant crashing flat on the ground soon after, Naoko played like a madwoman. What she lacked in finesse, she more than made up in sheer braveness (or craziness). To her it’s just the way she played anything, every so often getting injured, but for those who watched her persistence, her vigor and her skull thickness were astonishing. Since Naoko knew how to feather a fall from her karate training, her crashes weren’t nearly as brutal as it looked like, but only a trained eye could see that and, apparently, there was none in her class.
Her classmates paled in comparison. Miwa, more so. And then there was Shiori. Poor girl couldn’t even hit the ball. Every time someone threw it in her direction, Naoko’s team got a point and the shy girl looked even more disheartened. She tried not to deflect anything against her, but in the heat of the moment and with her blind aim it wasn’t always possible. Naoko’s team also had a few girls weighting it down, but overall Naoko just blocked most balls right at the net and didn’t spare her classmates chances to demonstrate just how awful they were at volleyball. All in all her class was not very good at it, the only reason that made the also mediocre player Naoko, full of energy but not really skilled, shine. Her team smashed the opposition and in just one class Naoko managed to become Class Beauty Queen MVP, while Shiori successfully defended her belt of Wallflower, Most Clueless Player.
Back in the locker room, everyone was so cheerful that Shiori stood out for Naoko as a little black hole, trying to suck away the joy. Sure, it wasn’t her fault for not being happy, but even the girls from her team, despite the loss, were vibrant. Miwa and many other girls were all praises to Naoko’s abilities and questions about if she hadn’t break any bones, while others were just tired and hungry, but kept talking among themselves. The glasses girl, on the other hand, was even more miserable than before. So much it started to get on Naoko’s nerves, just like she did in the drama club by looking helpless whenever that boy Takumi spoke to the (un)aspiring member. It’s as if Shiori couldn’t see anyone happy, being praised or winning without getting down, and even though she didn’t act, it almost looked like she expected others to notice her sadness and console her. In its own way, that was very egotistical of her.
But once again Master Ban’s wise words appeased Naoko. That girl just didn’t have the tools, the social skills and eloquence, to achieve her dreams otherwise. She most likely wanted to be liked by others, she just couldn’t find the way to do it. And unlike that dojo woman, she didn’t react in stupid ways. It’s as if she suffered alone. Feeling sorry for her, Naoko thought about going to talk to the girl, but since Shiori had no friends and no one to talk to, she’s also the quickest to change clothes, and before anyone knew the girl with a red, ball-like round mark on her face had gone back to the main building under her small umbrella.
Noticing Naoko’s bothered expression as she saw the girl going away, Miwa remarked:
“Is something the matter, Naoko-Chan?”
“Oh, Miwa-Chan,” Naoko was brought back from her contemplation, “I was just thinking. About Shiori-Chan.”
“About the ball you shot on her face?” Miwa risked a hunch, “If that’s it, don’t worry, she knows it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Ah, no, it’s another thing,” Naoko told her, “I was just thinking that Shiori-Chan is always alone and looks… kind of sad. I was wondering why.”
Putting an index finger on one cheek close to her mouth and looking up, Miwa recalled:
“I study with her since I was nine, I think. As far as I can remember, she was always like that. Well, maybe not as silent as those last few years, but definitely quieter than most. She had one close friend until the year before last, but her family moved to somewhere in Hokkaido. I can’t recall where exactly, though. Still, Shiori-Chan is just introverted, I think.”
“Is that so? Still, don’t you think she looks a tad sad?” Naoko insisted, to what Miwa thought for a moment, “Hm… I think I just got used to her being that way that I didn’t notice. Now that Naoko-Chan mentioned it… maybe? Perhaps I should go see if she needs something.”
During the break Miwa did so, but to no avail. Shiori-Chan simply thanked her for her concern but mentioned she had nothing she needed that she could think about. It’s frustrating to Naoko, who could clearly see the girl by the window, observing the rainy landscape, was melancholic and could use a friend. Then again, Naoko’s assumption was hers alone. She could be wrong, even if her gut feeling told her otherwise.
Her mood quickly returned back to vibrant as usual while she went to the swimming pool for her first day in the athletics club. Not knowing anyone was slightly daunting like always, and unlike in her dojo there was no one to welcome her other than a senior girl who did little more than explaining her how the club worked. Under the guidance of a coach, a previous female triathlon champion, the girls trained to break their own records, and the best results awarded the respective person a chance at various competitions, pitting them against other schools. Though there was an external coach, she also supervised other institutes, and the girls’ trained by themselves. Even though Naoko preferred individual sports rather than having to rely on teamwork, it felt boring at first, and the girls paid little attention to one another. Eager to test out her black and red swimsuit, Naoko was disappointed there was no one around that she knew to talk about how pretty she thought it was, and the others seemed to be too focused on her own exercises to care.
Her displeasure was rapidly put aside, though, because as she got in the lukewarm water Naoko felt right at her element. In Naoko’s previous school, the swimming pool was only open from June onwards, but on her new school the place could be used since the beginning of April. The thing she liked the most about pools was the freedom it provided. She could float and spin around if she wanted, walk as if she’s on the moon or pretend to fly. After the initial shock to discover how the Athletics club worked she carried over, testing out her speed and lungs capacity under the coach supervision. When she’s done the coach showed her the results, and in many categories Naoko had performed rather well, generally occupying the fourth or third positions in the swimming leaderboards. For someone who’d just arrived, it looked promising. Then again, most of it could be related to differences in height.
Just as the coach left an excited girl drew close to the lane divider. Looking happy, the pale-blond, short haired student threw Naoko off balance with the thankful tone in her speech:
“Hey, you just need to perform a little bit better and you’ll surpass Rin’s records!”
Naoko glanced in a disbelieving way to the apparently overjoyed girl. It seemed hard to believe someone would really be happy to have her second overall position threatened like that, but no matter how she looked at it, the strange girl looked honestly glad. Naoko reticently said:
“Hm… I’m… sorry? Thank you?” Seeing the girl look bright, she asked, “Hey, huh… you… look kind of happy with it…”
“Heck yeah!” the upbeat girl agreed. Leaning closer and covering the sides of her mouth, she revealed whispering, “It’s because only the first two get to participate in interschool competitions! Gets me dizzy just thinking about the crowd.”
Relaxing, Naoko giggled. “For a sec I thought you’d try to scold me or something, but you’re actually glad I can surpass your records?! You dislike competitions this much?”
“Rin’s not joking! I hate to compete!” the girl replied, “I joined this club just so I could exercise a bit! I’ve no intentions of ever going back to competitions! Last time Rin was so afraid Rin almost fainted, and placed last in front of everyone!”
That girl looked surprisingly lively and carefree. Smiling without noticing, Naoko asked:
“But are you required to compete if you place second or first?”
Getting suddenly preoccupied, the girl quickly insisted:
“Oh, no, don’t tell me you also hate to compete?! No, please, you have to become better!”
“Huh… It’s not that I enjoy competing,” Naoko an
swered, “I get kind of tense too, but I don’t think I’m scared or anything. Why? Do we get scolded if we lose?”
“Nah, nothing like that,” the eased girl explained, “It’s just Rin’s problem. I just can’t stand to see everyone watching me and expecting me to win. I usually faint when it happens.” With bright eyes, the girl inquired, “Hey, tell Rin: you’re that girl everyone’s talking about, the one who absolutely demolished that boy in that video and ultimately led to the expulsion of that idiotic coward that played mafia boss, isn’t it?”
“I don’t… know about the demolishing and expelling part…” Naoko modestly replied, “but yeah. I’m Yano Naoko, from 2-5. It’s a pleasure meeting you, hope we get along well!”
“I knew it!” the girl exultantly exclaimed, “The others here probably know it too, they’re just too self-centered and boring to say anything. I’m Uehara Rin, 2-1! Call me Rin, okay? Please be nice to me!” after an exchange of radiant smiles, Rin continued, “Hey, Yano-San?”
“Hey, no need for formalities too! “Naoko” is just fine”, Naoko insisted, to which Rin acknowledged in an uplifting way, “Right-O! So, Naoko-Chan? Can I ask you a favor? Big one?” With sparkly eyes the blond girl begged, “Please train hard and surpass my scores! Here in the pool as well as on bikes, on foot and such! What do you say? Please?!”
Cheerful, Naoko happily agreed to try her best, though asked Rin why she couldn’t simply hold herself to stay behind, to which the girl replied mixing first and third person speeches:
“Rin thought many times about doing it. Rin knows Rin came here just to make exercises and have fun but Rin just can’t hold herself back! It’s too troublesome and no fun at all! I want to feel I’m giving it my all, I just don’t want to compete! So please do your best! I’m sure with some training you can help Rin!” The high-frequency girl, just after completing her plead, thought about something and immediately said it, “Ah, can Rin just ask also we don’t make it a rivalry? It makes me uncomfortable. It’s a kind of competition, too. Can we just be friends? Oh, I know, I know! I can help you in whatever you need to improve! Rivals don’t help each other, right? They’re just an incentive for someone to improve itself, but friends help other friends! So… would Naoko-Chan… you know… care to be Rin’s friend?”
“Yay-yay!” Naoko instantly agreed, happy enough to hug Rin and only not doing so by a hair. Rin and Naoko had lots of things in common, as they quickly discovered. Both were energetic, easy-going, easily excitable girls of the same age. The blond girl also always carried a smile and felt that club was nice in theory, but people were too individualistic in practice. Too focused on competing, they barely talked to each other.
Rin was surprisingly fast for a girl around eight centimeters shorter than Naoko and a slim figure. The external corners of her eyes were slightly lower than the inner ones and her cheeks, according to Naoko, begged to be pinched, giving her a cute face. Her hair was beautiful, though in a peculiar way: blond but pale as sun-dried wheat straws. A few random straws were darker than the majority and a few lighter, though the girl told it’s normally like that. A few could be seen sloppily hanging out of her red swimming cap while in the pool, but after the training Naoko could see her full hair, straight though not all that well-kept. As such the uneven bottom curved upwards as if the girl slept folding her tufts unknowingly and didn’t care to comb it too much. It’s kind of untidy, but suited her nicely.
The two went away talking. Each carrying her own color-intense umbrella, Rin’s one being lime-green, they learned they shared some similar tastes. They both liked manga (Rin, to some extent), exotic foods and music. Rin knew how to play a few songs on a piano as her family had one, though the only instrument she really loved and wished she knew how to play was an electric guitar, just like Naoko. She also looked excited when hearing about the I.S.S.G.’s shows, mentioning she’d never, ever have the guts to perform in front of others but she’d love to watch a gig. The blond girl didn’t usually play video games, but she liked a few other kinds a lot, mostly board games. Her only problem was that anything that vaguely reminded her of a competition made the usually positive girl get dizzy and few uncomfortable, even if she played on a team against another one. The kinds of games she liked the most were cooperative ones. She disliked real violence and wasn’t interested in martial arts like Naoko, but she accepted action movies as long as they had some kind of romantic plot mixed in.
Rin was fascinated to know about Naoko’s bustling gaming life, full with friends from around the world, and intrigued about how the speedrunning community worked. From what Naoko told her, even though people were always competing for the best time, most speedrunners actually helped one another by sharing new tricks and information, playing together and such. The charity events that grouped them together periodically caught the attention of the blond girl, specifically. As Naoko described how fun they were and her experiences with friends getting together to play like them sparkled Rin’s interest in trying the same and knowing more about.
The blond girl knew some nice places around the city and Naoko promptly suggested they went to a karaoke the next day after the club. If it wasn’t for the fact both wanted to go home and wash the pool’s water away under another bath, they’d do it that same day, so well they got along together. They had their differences too, like Rin feeling uneasy around boys but also enjoying love stories far more than Naoko. The blond girl also revealed that she admired Naoko’s courage the moment she started to watch that video, but that she couldn’t even finish watching it. Rin detested tensions and conflicts, and declared she desperately wished to be even half as firm as her friend. Overall both felt they complemented each other’s tastes nicely.
Naoko returned beaming a big smile to the dormitory building. As soon as she arrived at her floor, however, something made her uneasy: a packaged gift by her doorstep. She more or less understood most people would be even happier if they received a present, but the girl only reluctantly approached. Wrapped in a shining purple and blue paper and held closed by glistening pink laces, it was eye-candy. People were almost always respectful enough not to touch the belongings of others even if they’re left unguarded, but it doesn’t mean the few boys and girls from her floor wouldn’t have known she’d received such an attention-catching gift.
At first Naoko tried to take it with the tips of her fingers, but the cubic content was too heavy, which made her even more worried. While checking if there’s no ticking sound inside, the girl found a red letter that came with it. Inside it, a few lines stated in trembling character traces as if someone with bad writing tried too hard to make it look pretty
“To Yano-San, Please forgive me for budging in like this with such an unfitting gift, but since you told me you liked action manga, I thought you’d perhaps enjoy something here. If not, I’m deeply sorry! Also I have all the volumes of these collections, I’d be more than happy to lend Yano-San any one, please feel free to ask me if that’s the case! Respectfully, Fukuda Katsuro.”
Just knowing that present came from the grinning boy made Naoko’s danger senses go haywire, even though it’s clear enough the heavy, almost cubic content of it was almost certainly a pile of comic books. That’s the only reason that convinced her to bring it inside. True to the letter, there’re ten manga volumes, all of different stories. She had read only one of those and had already heard about other five. They were action-packed stories, alright, though all the ones Naoko knew had some kind of romantic interaction, either as a background sub-plot or as a core element. Either Katsuro didn’t fully believe the girl would like narratives that were completely centered on fights and wars, or he’s implying something.
Even knowing the content was harmless the girl still felt somewhat apprehensive, which she usually didn’t. On the other hand, it’s a legitimate surprise Katsuro, after asking her about her preferences back in the laundry, had gone through the trouble of giving her not only one or two, but ten books. As suspicious as she was, Naoko coul
dn’t argue it wasn’t a thoughtful gift. She left it still in the wrap in a corner to think another time about what she’d do with it. All that’s left was to prepare a small bag with clothes to change to the next day and answer messages, one of which from Aratani. Also, there’s the usual calling home for the boring “Hey mom, I’m still alive” talk. Then she’s free.
On Saturdays there were a few classes in her school, though only until break. After that, people were free to leave or go to clubs. The rain had subsided for the most part of the day, and though the sky was still clouded the meteorology was promising for the next week. Also the girl had a meeting with her producer by five p.m. and was expected to take care of her appearance to attend it, but until then she’d plenty of time to spare.
The athletics club was much livelier with Naoko and Rin around. The two were the only ones to frequently talk there, and even if they slacked a bit sometimes, the two achieved relatively high performances compared to most of the rest of the team on the racetrack. With the exception of the obstacle course, that the short, blond girl was not good at, most of her other scores were generally good. Still, Naoko was able to beat most of her friend’s records unlike in the swimming pool. There was another girl who’s first in almost every ranking list, but besides her, Naoko and Rin usually figured among the second, third or fourth positions. They’re either naturally talented, blessed by genetics or just too hyperactive compared to the other girls.
The two quickly swept away the sweat and changed to spare casual clothes, Naoko reapplied her makeup and both left for a city stroll. By “casual clothes” it meant Rin’s non-matching red sneakers, green t-shirt and a pink skirt while Naoko, even though wearing a combination of everyday garments Aratani bought her, still looked like she’s going for a fashion show rather than a leisurely walk. Aside from her boots, changed in favor of the black sneakers, her attire was spellbinding as usual, though the girl started to get used to it. Her blond friend, though, was not and excitedly remarked every time they passed by a group of boys about how she thought they’re secretly checking up on Naoko, even if the girl herself didn’t think so. In a particularly crowded street Rin couldn’t stop blushing and bringing up:
“Rin thinks they discreetly looked at you, Naoko-Chan! That’s twelve just on this street! Wow! Oh, look, look! Another group! Shh! They’re coming!... Ah, now’s seventeen! Ahhh!”
“Yeah?” Naoko, laughing at the way her friend looked astounded, replied, “So?”
“I’d never have the guts to walk the same sidewalk as them if I knew they’d look at me! There’re five of them! Rin would be out cold by now! How’s Naoko-Chan so chill around boys?! Oh, Naoko-Sensei, please teach this undeserving disciple your secrets!”
“Rin-Chan? You can’t be serious,” Naoko retorted, “Rin-Chan is a very cute girl! No way you’ve never heard that from boys before!” After a powerful déjà vu experience, she added, “My, my, now I’m having flashbacks with my producer when he said something similar to me! I think now I can understand what he meant… Anyway, you’re always happy and expansive! What makes you so nervous around them?”
“Wish I knew!” Rin replied, “What makes Naoko-Chan so calm around them?”
Reflecting upon the question for only a second, Naoko joked:
“Wish I knew!” Laughing, she elaborated, “No, I’m kidding. I think it’s because I know lots of boys and I know there’s not as much to worry as you think there is. Sure, some boys are trouble no matter what, just like girls, but most are pretty cool people! They can be fun, and to be frank they’re usually more welcoming to me than the girls usually are. I’m having great luck here knowing girls like Rin-Chan and others in my class! That wasn’t the case back at my hometown.”
They talked the whole trip about Naoko and Rin’s past experiences. The blond girl had no traumatic memories that could’ve kick started her fears as far as she recalled. Apparently she was always bashful around boys. Still, she had a soft spot for love stories, and showed real enthusiasm in the way Naoko acted like it was no big deal. Maybe because to Naoko it wasn’t a big deal, really, and she’s convinced it also shouldn’t be to Rin. Seeing her blond friend so excited to learn anything she could to help her with the paralyzing anxiety that tormented her, Naoko felt an urge to intercede and happily promised:
“Tell you what, Rin-Chan: I want to see you overcome your fear! I have absolutely, positively zero idea how I can help you, but we’ll find a way to make you steadfast like no one!”
“For realsies?!” Rin radiantly inquired with dark shining eyes, “No strings attached?”
“Yeah, of course not! Why’d I do something like this?” Naoko returned the question, to which Rin responded while covering her mouth with her hands, “Like, when I told Naoko-Chan to try and beat my records you looked surprised, like if no one would like you to surpass them! But Naoko-Chan is a perfect magnet for boys and is very calm about it, why’d you want to help other girls with boys if you can have all of their attention to yourself?” At the same time the blond girl looked horrified with a thought that invaded her mind and, bowing, she apologized profusely, “Rin’s not saying she’d ever, ever surpass Naoko-Chan! Naoko-Chan is just too pretty! Please don’t think I’d ever try anything with any boy Naoko-Chan might be interested in, I swear! Rin… Rin just wants not to be so afraid and…! And…”
Naoko noticed the blond looked so upset with herself and tense with the vaguest idea she could end up competing for anything, much less a boy with her gorgeous friend, that Rin started to sway as if she’s on a boat by the sea. Her eyes lost focus and went nonfunctional as the girl, suddenly shutting down like a robot turned off, passed out. Naoko rapidly got a hold of her fainted friend before she fell flat to the ground with the cutest blank stare she’d ever seen. Her expression, not unlike if her eyes were substituted by a big pair of “X”s, still looked adorable albeit frightened. Her phobia of rivalries looked worse than Naoko had expected.
When she recovered, Rin got on an apology chain that Naoko only managed to sequence break by rapidly making her way to the karaoke her friend had suggested they visited. With red and lilac walls full of famous bands posters with light bulb inset frames and lots of closed rooms for rent, it’s a popular spot that looked amazing. The room they rented was not very cheap and the rows of cushioned seats surrounding three of the four chairs told Naoko the place was supposedly very affordable only if the bill was split among the twelve or fifteen people that chamber comported. Still, it looked fabulous, with a central table and a large TV close to the door.
Being the guest – even if the idea of singing in a karaoke was hers –, Naoko got to choose the first song. Like it was customary, while one person sang the others waited their turn, enjoyed the presentation and chose the songs they’d sing without interfering, or asking beforehand if they could join to sing. Rin, though, looked more than happy to just listen, and eagerly applauded at the end. Her blond friend insisted the girl sang again, even though it’s Rin’s turn, and asked Naoko to show her a song she could perform, preferably dancing like she’s on the stage. There was not enough space in the room for a full dance and Naoko had only rehearsed once before, so she wasn’t very enthusiastic about the idea, but Rin hadn’t even chosen her song yet, so her guest took another round.
It’s strange at the beginning to dance as well as sing, even for a one person audience, but Rin appeared to be having so much fun that it put Naoko at ease. As she finished her song, though, Rin still hadn’t chosen hers, and became suddenly quiet as she looked down tensely to the lyrics menu.
“Rin-Chan, what’s the matter?” Naoko demonstrated interest in knowing. The blond girl hesitated for some time, answering she’s just indecisive, but after Naoko discreetly insisted Rin finally admitted, ashamed, “I… didn’t think about it through when Naoko-Chan asked me to show you a karaoke venue. But Naoko-Chan is an idol, right? I… I… can’t sing well, you see…”
“Sooooo?” throwing the mic from one hand to the other,
Naoko asked in a long syllable, starting to understand what held her friend back. Rin vacillatingly answered:
“So… maybe… Naoko-Chan will… you know… like, laugh at Rin. Or something.” Getting overwrought again she began to formulate the ideas that passed through her mind in increasingly rapid succession, “Because Rin can’t sing well, really. Even if Naoko-Chan doesn’t externalize her laugh, she’ll most likely be laughing on the inside. And maybe you won’t want to come to a karaoke with Rin anymore, because Rin sings so badly! No one wants to hear screeches!”
“Calm down, calm down!” Naoko tranquilized her friend, while sitting beside her, “Rin-Chan is grossly overestimating my own singing capability, and…”
“No, you just sang divinely!” her blond friend stated.
“…and, most importantly, Rin-Chan is taking it far too seriously.” Naoko finished her sentence, “Get real, Rin-Chan: I’m your friend, why’d I laugh at you? You also probably sing much better than you think you do, and even if you didn’t, you’re not here to sing well! We’re here to have fun, not to judge each other! If anything, I’ll support you like you do to me in the athletics club! So? Wanna choose a song you like and enjoy it?”
Slowly recovering, the still pale girl nervously inquired:
“Does Naoko-Chan promise she’ll not get mad at Rin for singing poorly? Or… or not going out with Rin again?”
Throwing the microphone to her friend, Naoko smiled warmly and encouraged Rin to choose a song. She sang it anxiously and really didn’t perform too well, but it’s clear she had a good voice and her otherwise upbeat personality would’ve pulled her through without a problem if Rin didn’t let her fears take the best of her. As she finished and hesitantly glanced back to her friend, Naoko applauded her effusively. Blushing, the blond student claimed:
“Naoko-Chan is too kind. Rin knows Rin sang horribly…”
Standing up and getting close to her friend to grab the mic, Naoko comforted her:
“You’re worrying for nothing! I’m not applauding you only for your singing, but because Rin-Chan overcame her fears and sang! That’s a lot! You deserve to be praised for that!”
Her friend’s face got brightened by a big smile. Naoko invited Rin to sing together the next song, to which the nervous girl accepted with a hopeful expression. It took them almost half an hour before Rin got completely comfortable, but it’s worth it. When intimidated the girl was like a hard to crack oyster, closing herself in her shell, but with patience she slowly opened up, showing once more her pearlescent nature. The joyful personalities of both girls flooded the rather empty room with the energy of twenty people, as the usual custom of alternating turns was discarded and the two sang together all songs, while shouting and laughing in between. Naoko too overcame her initial anxiety of presenting like in a stage, noticing how stupid she’d also been for getting even slightly nervous about it, and invited Rin to learn a few dancing steps. Naoko herself only knew a handful from the single two hour class she’d done before, but it’s enough to get the two guffawing loudly over their unsynchronized and silly choreography to the point of gasping for air and feeling their abdomens hurt.
One hour was all Naoko could afford, both because of money getting dangerously low and also due to time constraints, but they’re having so much fun she wished they could stay at it until they had no energy left to sing and laugh. On their way back, while Rin breathlessly talked about how thrilling it’d been to sing with an idol and how they should totally do that again another day Naoko’s cellphone rang. It’s an owner of a games store asking if the girl was still interested in a clerk position she’d applied to and been interviewed for two weeks prior. It’s nice to receive yet another job proposal, though once again she had to politely turn it down. Not before asking Rin if she wanted to have a part-time job, though.
“Rin would love to!” the girl explained while speaking in third-person like she sometimes did, especially when saying something negative or didn’t want to involve herself with, “Unfortunately Rin’s family is very strict about her studies and didn’t let her do anything that could detract Rin from her homework and private classes. I’m sorry, Naoko-Chan. But thanks for the generous offer! Also, I don’t know much about games, I’d be shy there.”
Once the job proposal was declined, Naoko asked:
“Is Rin’s family that severe? What private classes do you do?”
“Many boring classes!” Rin responded, “Math, sciences, history, English… Rin studies from Monday till Friday after getting back home. Before Rin had even more teachers, like the piano one, but now I only have about seven…”
“Seven?! You’ve seven private teachers?!” Naoko exclaimed, and her friend confirmed, “Yup. Though one of them is very nice, really! She teaches Rin philosophy!”
Raising an eyebrow, Naoko enquired why her friend studied it, and she happily explained:
“Rin’s parents require Rin to study each school subject every year. Some teachers teach Rin more than one subject, or subjects from a more advanced grade. In turn I can choose every year something of my liking to learn! I’ve already studied astrology, theology, mythology, psychology, French, anthropology, German and such. Last two years was German!”
Staring with unblinking eyes at the smiling girl as if she’d seen an alien, Naoko stood still as if paralyzed with a gaping mouth, holding her cellphone midway to her back pocket.
“What?!” Naoko abruptly exclaimed, “You know anthropology and psychology and stuff… and German?!”
“Well, I’m not fluent at German,” Rin modestly explained, “I only know enough to survive, though I know how to read kind of well! Rin was looking one day for an easy storybook in that language to read… but instead Rin found Also Sprach Zarathustra: Ein Buch für Alle und Keinen from a philosopher named Friedrich Nietzsche! Rin painstakingly translated it, and found it so funny Rin decided to study a little about philosophy this year!”
Blinking without moving anything else for some time, Naoko suddenly rallied:
“You’re telling me you know French and theology and play a piano and have seven private teachers and have read an Also Spinach Zara-whatever philosophy book in German but you’re ashamed of speaking with a single airheaded boy and you’d clam yourself shut in a game store because you don’t know about stupid games?! What’s the problem with you, girl?!”
For a few seconds Rin’s frozen excited expression was just altered by eventual blinks from her starry eyes. The girl then returned to a previous topic as if nothing had happened:
“Speaking of games, Naoko-Chan knows a lot about them, right? Can you show me something about that speedrun thing you told me about?!”
Facing Rin’s vibrant countenance, Naoko half-closed her eyes and agreed:
“Yeah, right, way to change subjects! Fine, let’s pretend I didn’t notice your maneuver. Yup, I can show you around that, sure. I need to leave to work by four thirty, but are you going to do anything until then?”
Bringing Rin to the dorms, Naoko showed the amazed blond girl her room.
“Sorry about the mess.” Naoko quickly apologized while opening the door, already knowing she’d left her futon and her videogames messily lying around. Rin, though, seemed as marveled as if she’s entering a castle. Leaving her sneakers by the entrance, she exclaimed:
“Naoko-Chan really lives by herself! It must be the best thing ever! It’s fabulous! Oh, this dragon-patterned futon just screams “Naoko”! I loved it! Your room’s perfect! You’re so lucky!”
Naoko tried not to look as excited out of humbleness, but those were her thoughts exactly. Grabbing her laptop, Naoko invited her friend to sit in the only place there was to do so, the futon, and asked Rin what electronic games she knew about.
“Hm… I don’t know many. I never had a video game. My parents think it’s a boys’ thing and it would distract me. I’m… kind of at a loss here!”
“You… never played a video game?” Naoko sounded even more lost. Rin disclaime
d excitedly, “No, I have. A few friends used to have those handheld video games, and I’ve a few games in my cellphone and computer, but they’re so hard I can barely win the first level!” She showed Naoko the ones she had on her nice but overly-decorated cellphone. A few of which were real classics, “Oh, and I liked to play those gaming machines they have at shopping centers and on some hotels, those cabins with buttons and sticks or plastic guns!”
“Arcades,” Naoko told her, glad to know it, “You’re just like my producer, then! I’m also trying to make him play games! Okay, I’ll just show you a few videos of people speedrunning those classic games you’ve with you and we’ll go from there.”
Showing her a list of videos, she chose one. The rectangular screen was divided in one big area where the game was played and two smaller ones. One containing technical information like its title, the name of the person running it, an expected time to finish the playthrough, an inscription of the name of the event and a number in the hundreds of thousands preceded by a dollar symbol. The other presented a fixed camera shot of an auditorium. Close to the cam there was a sofa were the player, along with a few other people, sat.
“How’s your English doing, Rin-Chan?” Naoko asked, “If you need I can translate it.”
“Don’t worry, thanks! I’ll be fine.” The blond girl enthusiastically responded “Why? Are they going to talk in English?”
“Yup,” Naoko affirmed, “I chose to show you an event I like a lot, but there are others, including a few in Japanese. This one’s an international summit that occurs twice a year, next one occurring on summer. Both are conferences to raise money for charity. Speedrunners try to complete the games as fast as possible and perform a few challenges while people donate money for the cause. Everyone on that couch is a speedrunner, though almost always only one play at a time. Since not everyone can play and speak at the same time, the others, who also run the game and know it very well, comment it. Sometimes the runner does so too.”
“They aren’t competing against each other then?” Rin questioned, and her friend said:
“Nope. Well, there are a few rare occurrences where two or more runners face each other for the best time, but then again, they’re not there to win or lose, they’re trying to raise donations for a charity. Some are more serious, but quite a few makes jokes and genuinely look like they’re having fun. I’ve already watched all those videos, I know this runner. He’s a funny one. Look.”
She showed her friend a few quick videos. The guys from the videos annihilated many games Rin had on her cellphone and couldn’t even beat the first stage. Both the runner and the commentators mentioned tricks and how they executed seemingly impossible feats, joked about past stories of failures, pointed out trivia about the game, credited members of their speedrunning communities for discovering certain exploits and more, all the while making it look easy. A few times a voice interrupted them to read comments of donors, and the number of dollars on the bottom right corner gradually increased. A few comments were jokes while others talked about real life stories of people close to the supporters fighting against diseases the institutions that would be benefited with the donations tried to eradicate. Even then, the mood was always bright as the people on the couch quickly drew attention back to the games and the absurd skips they did that a casual player would never do.
At a particular moment in the fourth video presented, the player forced the main character through a seemingly solid wall, making it get beyond the usual area into a dark void, only to appear seconds later at another part of the game world, beyond a gate. Confused, Rin asked what had occurred, to what Naoko informed:
“There are different running categories for each game, like completing one hundred percent of it as fast as possible or just rushing to the end. Some categories accept the use of glitches, which are mistakes the programmers committed when creating the game. Some mistakes can make the game stop working or making it impossible to beat, but a few can be taken advantage of to do things that weren’t supposed to happen. In this video the player character went out of bounds, meaning it got away from the area the game usually occurs on. With it the runner was able to walk across the edges of the map and bypass a locked door. That door usually requires the average gamer to go to a different level and do lots of stuff to get the key, and then backtrack to the door to open it and proceed. It usually takes half an hour to do so, but by getting out of bounds and bypassing the door, then getting inbounds again, the speedrunner lost just about five seconds. Some categories wouldn’t allow it, but this is a glitch run, meaning the player can do anything the game allows, even exploiting programming mistakes, to get through. This game, to an average player, takes about twenty hours to complete, but this speedrun gets it done in less than forty-five minutes by abusing some known glitches.”
“Wow! Though this way they’re not enjoying too much of it, are they?” Rin reflected.
“Do you think that’s the first time these people play that game?” Naoko retorted, laughing, “They’ve already finished it hundreds of times! They already played the game as intended by the developers and saw probably all there’s to see from it before reaching a point where they have the skills to force their way through the game and skip major sections like that.”
“Makes sense,” the blond girl agreed in awe, “Just a question: skipping things like that isn’t kind of cheating?”
“Not according to speedrunning rules,” explained Naoko, while getting up to look if there’s anything in her minibar she could cook for lunch for them, “Cheating is using external devices and things the game isn’t built with, like if you hacked the coding with a computer to alter things in your favor before playing it. Also, some old games didn’t allow gamers to save their progress, so they presented password systems where players could jump back to a specific level they’ve supposedly already beat, but that’s also considered cheating because you can just go right to the last stage. A speedrun involves you starting a game in its original state from the beginning and finishing it quickly, so anything the game gives to you between that is okay, but external resources, messing with cartridges and other media, tilting the console and so on are not. That’s why going out of bounds for exploiting a programming flaw is alright but playing an altered game or, say, plugging in an external source that hacks the coding to make you invincible is not. But if you can somehow abuse a mechanic that’s already inside the original game to make you invincible, that’s fine by rules as long as the category you’re running allows glitches and exploits like this.”
Initially Rin found it very complicated to understand what was going on, but Naoko patiently answered all of her interested friend's questions while she cooked lunch for them. Granted, some were very basic but still curious, like the reason why a few games played by the speedrunners from that convention, the majority of which clearly coming from English-speaking countries, were written in Japanese. Naoko told her it’s because some games with lots of texts, like Role-Playing Games, could have different ways of depicting letters and characters depending on the world region they’re translated to. The English versions of a few games presented texts one letter at a time while the Japanese one could show the entire text box in just one frame, meaning in the long run players could save a few seconds by playing the Japanese one even though they didn’t speak Japanese. They already knew the game well enough not to need the texts anyway. Other questions were not as easy to answer, however, like how certain glitches worked.
Letting her friend play her video games for some time while she cooked, they both ate lunch while enjoying the videos. When she offered her friend some fruits as dessert, the blond girl quickly turned down in amazement:
“It’s such an expensive-looking package! And what’s this?! Melon slices?! Rin could never take it from Naoko-Chan! It must’ve cost you a lot!”
“Eh… no, it’s a gift.” Naoko explained it, making Rin’s eyes sparkle, “A gift?! That’s a very thoughtful gift! Is it Naoko-Chan’s bir
thday or something? Rin’s sorry for not knowing!”
Letting the video run on mute, Naoko explained to her friend why she received that present, to which Rin was staggered.
“In an inversed way, that’s so romantic! Naoko-Chan saved that boy in distress and he thanked you! Aw, now I want to save boys too! Do you think they’ll like me for it?!”
“Huh… I’m pretty sure they’d already like you for other things, there’d be no need to save them,” Naoko responded, “but… yeah? Well, that’s unusual to occur, I’m sure they’d see even more easily the unique girl you are. Though, really, it’s not worth the trouble, you can get in a mess doing so and boys already have plenty to like in Rin-Chan without all the fuss. Why?”
They briefly talked about the reason a beautiful, cute and fascinating girl like Rin felt like she should save a guy for him to want to get close to her, but to no avail. After that, Naoko got a hold of the controller and played the games her friend had sluggishly and painstakingly tackled. It was exactly the same games, only this time it’s the hostess playing, and a few parts that took the blond girl minutes to complete, Naoko breezed through in seconds. Dumbfound, Rin asked to try a trick and Naoko showed her an easy one, which her friend practiced during almost twenty minutes while the hostess changed clothes in the bathroom and got ready for the meeting.
While she reapplied the eyeliner the curious voice of her friend asked from the other side of the wall, “Naoko-Chan! I just noticed that open gift package on that corner! Another gift! You’re a present magnet! Don’t tell me it’s another present from that boy! Are those manga?”
Taking a moment to understand what Rin was talking about, she suddenly remembered while finishing her makeup and taking her toothbrush:
“Oh! Yeah, it’s a present. But not from that boy. It’s... huh… from another boy that lives in the dorms building too. He asked me what kind of stories I liked and gave me those. You can take a look if you want.”
After a couple of seconds, Rin called even more excited than before:
“I’ve read two of those! Pretty good stuff! I’m so envious of you, Naoko-Chan! To receive such a present from yet another guy! That boy also has excellent taste!”
“Wha-?!” Naoko interjected, washing her mouth clean of toothpaste before continuing, “No, don’t get your hopes high on him, Rin. He’s… not very… Wait, you said you’ve read two of those? But… but I’ve only ever read one, and I consider myself a big fan of manga! Is it possible that you’re even more than me?! I’m so proud of you!”
“Huh… don’t know!” Rin replied, “I like manga, but it’s not as if I read a lot and I only have, like, fifteen tops in my collection! Though I know a few. I’d no idea Naoko-Chan liked romantic stories too!”
Getting out of the bathroom looking puzzled, Naoko disagreed:
“I don’t, and these manga aren’t about romance. They’re about action! At least the ones I know about, though there are four there I can’t really say.”
Grabbing one of the comic books Naoko had already heard about, though never cared to read since it had a romantic couple as the central plot drivers and little action, Rin mentioned:
“Take this one as an example! Rin gets it there can be a few action moments on this one, but it’s a story about love!” Leafing through it, the blond girl described it with exultant eyes, “The sad story of a boy and his mutual love with a school girl who’s actually a weapon of mass destruction created to unwillingly decimate people in a war, if Rin remembers correctly. It’s very touching and talks about many subjects other than love, such as duty, ethics and free will! I love it, it’s so sad but cute! What would Naoko-Chan do if she was a governmental secret weapon whose only reason to exist was to kill, but fell in love?”
Naoko thought about it for a second. Not about what she’d do, but about how she’d say that to Rin, because in her mind things looked as clear as day.
“No, Naoko-Chan! We can never be together!” a tall, short grayish-brown haired boy cried from closed eyes behind his thin-framed glasses while hugging her dearly.
“Why?” Naoko would reply, crying together, unbeknownst to the many pillars of smoke rising amidst the bombed city around them. Holding her tighter against his blue uniform, the boy would reply between hiccups:
“Because you’re the ultimate weapon of mass destruction, chosen for having the highest compatibility rate of all people with the defense system attached to you!”
“Bwa, bwa, that’s very sad, bwa, bwa…” Naoko would unrealistically cry, though only until the information sank in. “Wait. I’m what?!”
Looking at her right arm Naoko would make a big weapon come out of it while metal wings popped out of her back. Surprised, Naoko would certainly smile radiantly and her eyes would gleam reflecting the solid, high-caliber multi-barreled gun. Getting free from that sobbing loser’s hug, she’d obviously say the only thing that would make sense in this circumstance:
“Awesome!” In a second Naoko would be flying away at ultra-speed, leaving that gloomy boy to watch as numerous explosions in the distance painted the horizon red and lit his face and glasses. Because what’s the point in being the ultimate weapon of mass destruction if she didn’t caused destruction? Well, maybe she’d not leave him completely, of course. After Naoko had laughed enough raining tactic missiles down, she’d eventually come back, landing close to him. In a touching reunion, she’d, once again, say the only heartfelt thing reasonable in this situation:
“Can shoot ballistic missiles from my fingers! Don’t need you anymore, sucker!” Taking a small rock from the debris around, she’d toss it at his head before flying away again, cutely laughing while sending lasers and bombs tearing down at enemy vessels, buildings and little screaming people beneath her alike just for laughs. Sure, Naoko wouldn’t be such a good defense system if she destroyed the country she’s supposed to protect, but eventually she’d make it even by leveling the ones she’s supposed to attack too. And probably most of the world along with it, because why not?
After some time laughing loudly and evilly, Naoko snapped out of her imagination and calmed down. Facing Rin, who looked slightly suspicious, Naoko answered with a cute voice:
“Sorry, I just remembered a little joke. About the love story? Yeah, tough question. What would I do if I was a weapon of mass destruction who fell in love?” The girl giggled for a sec before changing subjects. “Anyway! Nice to know Rin-Chan not only likes manga, but knows quite a few already! Can’t say I like love stories, though, so if you want to take any of the ones there that focus on romances more than on action, feel free to do so.”
“No, Rin can’t take any! Thanks for the offer, but it’s an incredible present from a boy to Naoko-Chan!” Rin refused with her hands covering her mouth, too shocked to even bow. “That boy must like Naoko a lot to give her such a nice gift!”
“Don’t worry, that feeling is not mutual.” Naoko guaranteed, “If you really feel bad about it, I can also lend Rin-Chan the volumes you want. It’s not like I have time to read those anymore, they either don’t pique my interest or are very long stories.”
“But this one’s really good!” Rin pointed to the one she’d previously used as example, “Naoko-Chan should read it! Maybe you’ll start to like love stories too!”
“Or maybe I’d need something happier than a forbidden love between a boy and an armada turned girl if I’m to like love stories.” Naoko countered, to which Rin eagerly responded, “Good idea! Okay, let’s trade then! Naoko-Chan lends me one of those and I’ll bring, like… five from my own collection to school next Monday so you can also choose one! I’ll make sure to choose only short stories, don’t worry! What do you say?”
Love stories didn’t exactly interest her, but just to make Rin happy Naoko accepted the exchange and let her borrow a comic book from the pile. Soon after, the two left. Her friend told her she’d loved her room, the karaoke and to know about that gaming community, and was going to look for more info by herself. Naoko
thanked her for the amazing day and apologized for having to go to work, though the blond girl, looking just as thankful, mentioned it’s not a problem.
Taking the train to The Paragon Idol agency, Naoko barely saw the trip, so happy she was with the memories of that day. Rushing to the office to get in time, Naoko ran upstairs, her platform boots thundering against the steps. Reaching the last floor exhausted from the run from the station until there, she quickly knocked and entered her producer’s room huffing.
“You’re still one minute early,” Aratani remarked, “And I could hear you rocking the stairs like a hurricane. You don’t need to rush like that, Naoko-Chan.” Opening a small smile, he invited, “Come take a seat, I’ve good news for you.”
Walking around the still clustered office was even harder than before due to her platforms. The place was still cramped with trash, only somewhat better organized, and the only major difference was the inclusion of a few posters of idol bands. The girl quickly asked:
“What are those posters? Do you produce them too, Produ-San?”
Running his eyes through the famous bands around the walls, Aratani commented in a disbelieving tone:
“Huh… no. They’re all well-established idol bands, some with many years on the road. Don’t tell me you don’t know any of those? Naoko-Chan doesn’t know about, say, AK1/47?”
Getting immediately pumped up, Naoko responded with unfaltering certainty:
“Of course I do! The AK-47, or Avtomat Kalashnikova, first manufactured in 1947 in the Soviet Union, is an assault rifle officially accepted in the Soviet army by the end of that same decade! It went through many overhauls during the years but many decades after its initial production, it’s still used around the world! It’s considered a reliable weapon, with passable accuracy to hit targets up to one hundred meters away, good cadency of fire and low production cost! It has a more or less unimpressive “life expectancy” of around ten thousand rounds, though some can surpass it. It’s also an easy to maintain weapon and its parts are easy to find and replace, it resists harsh weather well and are not all that heavy for a trained soldier! It’s an also popular weapon for modifications and can receive anything from simple clip size increases for its thirty-nine millimeter bullets to the addition of grenade launching adaptations!” After thinking for a second if she’d forgotten anything she knew, Naoko asked, “Hm… Why did you ask me about a gun? Weren’t we talking about bands, Produ-San?”
Keeping his cool so as not to freak out, Aratani gave himself a face palm.
“Naoko-Chan, please tell me you made up everything you just said. How the hell do a girl like you knows about military weaponry from ninety forty seven Soviet fucking Union?!”
Looking as confused as her producer, Naoko explained simply:
“It was created in soviet territory during Cold War, but it’s one of the most famous guns of all times! Practically every first-person shooter game you play has an AK-47 or a model produced after it, and a few games explain a lot of details about the equipment a player can have. It’s hard not to know it even exists if you play war games, and it only requires you to be a little curious and patient to read everything the menus say to eventually know this kind of stuff. The rest I learned on the internet!”
“For all that’s good, girl!” Aratani chided her, “Don’t you ever show anyone these kinds of knowledge like that! You speak as if you’re a grizzled veteran who knew from your own experience about this gun you said! At least tell others beforehand your data comes from games, because the way you said it I’d believe if you told me you’ve already shot a gun in real life!”
“Video games are real life too!” Naoko protested, mockingly cowering in her chair, “You’ve no idea the horrors I’ve already seen!... Mostly due to my own ineptitude, really… but horrors all the same!”
“I’ve spotted one!” Naoko claimed on her headset years ago, speaking low so as not to wake up her parents at three a.m. and doing so in English since her online friends were all from abroad, “He’s over one of the two towers by that funny, big building! He’s mine!”
“Roger that, Straight Girl,” a guy with a thick, manly voice spoke from her team acknowledged, referring to her in the joking way her usual international friends liked to call her. It’s because the two characters that composed Naoko’s name, like she once explained them, were that of “straight, correct, docile, fair, sincere” and “child”. They liked the irony of her father having named her that way as if he wanted Naoko to be a good, well-behaved girl only for her to become so critical to him and doing lots of things her father disliked. Playing so much being one of these things. Well, at least she was sincere… They liked how “Straight Girl” sounded better than “Straight Child”, though, and it became her nickname among the other players.
Naoko pressed the aim button and looked through the magnifying scope of her precision rifle, hunting for her prey in silence. Crawling over the rooftop of a building, she slowly made her way to the left so that she could get a good sight of her target, hiding with another rifle at the top of a bell tower of a church of sorts. Slowly, slowly and sneakily she moved, not letting her sight off her scope even for a second so that she’d grab any opportunity she had like the professional she was…
And then the rooftop was over and her character fell off from its edge, spinning to his ridiculous death many meters below. Staring the screen unbelievingly with tired and frustrated eyes reflecting the bluish light of the monitor, Naoko dropped her forehead on the keyboard.
“I’m out, guys.” She spoke to the keys, groping her way to the mouse and only lifting her head slightly to see where she was clicking to exit that stupid game as soon as possible.
“Oh, the horrors of war and of ineptitude…” Naoko commented with wide-open, non-blinking, fixated eyes while hugging her folded legs. Getting back to normal, she interrogated, “But why’re we talking about it?”
Sighing, her producer explained her:
“We were talking about an idol band from Akihabara called AK1/47 before you started to freak me out with talks about weapons and Russia. I was going to ask you if you didn’t know those famous idol groups on the posters to tell you I don’t produce them, but let’s change the subject quickly before my tiger-loving, weapons-specialist idol worries me even more. First of all, I’d like to congratulate Naoko-Chan for having already amassed around one hundred fans on your fan club… without having performed a single time yet.”
“Huh? How?!” Naoko questioned, surprised. In a cool expression, her producer reacted, “That’s also what I wanted to know, so I investigated. And apparently there are a couple of videos with tens of thousands of views on the internet about a girl just like you scolding the life out of a gang boy. Ring any bells?”
Seeing the man cross his arms and face her, Naoko suddenly got what occurred. Lowering her head, the girl bowed and apologized, quickly explaining all that happened. Her producer, though clearly not happy, didn’t reproach her, instead merely cautioning the girl:
“I get it. Okay, you did some good deeds and I’m actually glad to see you care for others to the point of intervening in favor of a boy and your janitor, and capable of persuading others to the right path. I’ll not tell you it’s wrong, all I ask is that you think about the consequences of it next time. And not only for your career, that’s the least of our concerns. You can create enemies with the wrong people, Naoko-Chan. I know that boy was expelled and all, and that I don’t need to tell you that, but please, be careful.”
Seeing the cheerful girl was left burdened, the man changed subjects with a casual smile:
“But I’m happy you’re wearing your new clothes. They simply looked too good on you on those videos. Atta girl. Now, for the real good news: you’ve your first work right tonight.”
Brought back from her downcast state by the shock, Naoko frightfully interrogated:
“Oh, no! Don’t tell me you want me to perform! I’ve only done one day of lessons! I…!”
&nb
sp; “Hey, hey, chill out, Naoko-Chan,” Aratani coolly calmed her down, “Of course not, I wouldn’t risk your image in a presentation just yet, knowing you just started learning how to dance. That’s why I looked the whole week for other work you could do. Turns out a company that sells pillows and bed stuff is always looking for stunning girls to pose to ads. I have other companies interested in your photo book too, from cosmetics and fitness stuff for gyms to natural drinks and so on, but until now only one signed a contract so far. So here, sign this paper and by 6:30 p.m. you’ll be resting your locks on said company’s new pillows and matching spring blankets. Just pretend you like it even if you don’t, stay awake and before you know we’ll have accrued some change to get us back closer to positive. Got any questions, Naoko-Chan?”
As the girl finished reading the simple and straightforward contract, her eyes got wide and her feelings of shame were lost among a mixed surge of excitement and suspicion.
“Wait! It says here three hundred thousand Yen?! Being paid three hundred thousand for pretending to sleep with a smile?! Isn’t there something wrong here?!”
“You’re not being paid three grand to pretend to sleep smiling,” Aratani corrected her, “You, along with a few other models, are being paid three grand for being a gorgeous girl who, by pretending to sleep with a gracious smile, will surely attract customers attentions to a huge company’s new line of pillows and stuff and help generate hundreds of millions, billions of Yen. Also, remember: that’s the total amount the agency will receive. Your share’s fifteen percent, meaning forty five thousand. Still as impressed as before?”
Astonished, the girl hesitantly signed the contract after certifying herself there was nothing to fear about it. Though much more reassured, Naoko exclaimed:
“It’s still quite a bit of cash for just a few photos.”
“Maybe, but in Tokyo it’s nowhere near enough, unfortunately,” Aratani brought her back to reality, “That’s why I’m already looking for many other companies. I think by next weekend we’ll have more work to do. I’m also negotiating with that same company we’ll be going in half an hour from now to extend our contract for a few more ads. Let’s see how it all plays out. The important thing is that the companies seem to like what they see in you, Naoko-Chan. This first contract is actually a weak one, but I accepted it anyway so we can have something on our portfolio to show clients. When a corporation sees other big companies had already contracted you, they become much more open to my advances and new contracts get easier to close, so the more your face gets out there, the more familiarized the public and the contractors become with you, and business gets better and better.”
Astounded not only by that calm young man’s honesty but also by his business savvy, Naoko commented casually:
“I never thought you had to think about so many things, Produ-San! Until now I thought you just scheduled lessons, cared for my image and made bureaucratic works for I.S.S.G.! What are your other incumbencies, Produ-San? What does a producer do, exactly?”
“More than we’ve time to discuss, unfortunately, since I still want to talk with you about another topic,” Aratani stated, “but basically, aside from what you said, a producer tries to find good contracts. It means he visits potential clients, attends to events to strengthen his network, sends prospects to companies and such, which currently take up most of my agenda. I’m also required to take care of the paperwork for any show you’ll be making and making sure you’re on top condition for it, which I’ll hopefully be doing in the near future. I manage your fan club, research new trends, take care of copyrighted songs, clips and contents you’ll have someday, make contact with the media, yada yada yada. Also, I’m required to close contracts for non-ranked shows, but that’s still a long ways off. So no, I don’t just sit here all week waiting for Sunday to be your chauffer and slave you to the bone in many hour long courses, don’t worry about it. Actually, my weekends are the most relaxing time for me, when I can usually kick back and see the things I planned during week unfold, staying nearby just in case it didn’t go as intended. And since I’m also the owner of this agency, I also need to pay its taxes and room rent, take care of your payment and so on, but that’s easy, actually. Oh, and also send home the many other girls who come here looking for work, but this part’s even easier with the office the way it is right now. So there, my work in a nutshell.”
“I… had no idea.” Naoko said, in lack of better words, “And I thought my week was full.”
“Speaking of which, how’s your first week here?” Aratani leaned in over his table and put his elbows over it, clasping his hands in front of his mouth, “Did you enjoy it, Naoko-Chan?”
“Huh… beside that stupid mess I got into, you mean?” Naoko, in a sorry way, asked, to which her producer nodded and stated, “Yeah. I take it you’ve already noticed not only that companies won’t want to associate their brands to a girl who gets infamous for clashing with gang boys, but also that it could be dangerous for you. If you learned your lesson, it’s fine, let’s forget about this topic, shall we? What about the rest of your week? Did you like the school, the city, living by yourself, knowing new people, things like this?”
Naoko briefly recounted her first days in the capital, so briefly in fact she didn’t even mention things like the karaoke or her dojo, and while she did so she gradually recalled how wonderful it’s been. So far for every good thing she experienced, she also found that wasn’t as nice, but until then she’d given more importance to the negative things than they deserved, since the positive ones far outmatched the cons. Having her own room in a dorm full of good people was awesome, even if Katsuro and Daiki lived there and were kind but rubbed her the wrong way; getting in a class with Miwa and other lovely people too, and that drama queen Shiori was the exception, not the rule; her dojo only had one stupid woman and seventy-some nice, reassuring and interesting men, including her remarkable new master; her friend Rin alone was spectacular and would already make the athletics club worth the trouble just by herself, but the exercise was a nice bonus. The city was fantastic even under heavy rain, and Naoko had so much to do she’d barely no time to chill in her room, to which the girl was glad. Nothing was perfect but Naoko never felt so alive, and counting her blessings made her even more radiant.
Content to hear about it, Aratani joked:
“It seems everywhere Naoko-Chan goes, she becomes the favorite member. Too bad nowadays idol groups are losing some space to individual presentations, a few years ago you’d become a supported member of many fans in your band. Well, guess we can still make you shine brighter than other idols in your class and leave them green with envy, so no waste here.”
“Idol groups are not a big thing anymore?” Naoko inquired, and her producer half-agreed:
“Not like they used to be half a decade or so ago. They’re still huge in terms of business, but became kind of luxury articles, that have immense value but not the same high demand they used to have. The Idol Star System favors individual idols. As such, current generations of idols are getting more and more specialized and extreme. You saw it on that show, I think. Every idol looked very different from the others, even though most of them come from a time where bands were still the main thing. I think you remember that lady who won the competition, nicknamed Vyper, but I don’t know if you remember, for example, one of the first Metal class girls at the beginning of the show, with a purple and green hair. Do you?”
“Violet Lily?” Naoko quickly responded.
“Exactly. They’re both part of a band one day. Izumi and Sayuri. Vyper, whose real name is Izumi, being around Naoko’s age now, and Violet Lily, who by that time was also known by her real name, Sayuri, was one of the youngest. She’s thirteen, I think. Sayuri’s name character composition translates in English to “small lily”, so you can see from where she took her stage nickname, though I’ve no idea about Vyper’s one. Anyway, you can see the two have a darker take on the thing than the others, because the band they ca
me from leaned heavily on the punk style, full of black clothes and intense makeups. But after they went solo, you can see they developed their own flairs. That’s what happening to idols nowadays: instead of following a common style from a band, they try to create their own characters. Things are getting more and more individualistic as girls have to carve their own niches. It’s a concept that draws its influence heavily from international solo singers and celebrities. The I.S.S.G. was created to be expanded to the world, so it’s no wonder there’s a kind of Western-style trait on it that urges girls to be different and attract more attention than others instead of working with your peers for the greater good.”
Entertained, Naoko smiled, though only in the slightest.
“I didn’t know Vyper and Violet were once part of the same band! That’s cool! Though… Produ-San? You seem a little… critical about… standalone idols, or is it just me?”
Leaning back and relaxing, Aratani shook his head dismissively:
“I’m sorry, pay me no mind Naoko-Chan. It’s not that I dislike standalone idols. I wouldn’t open an agency like this if that was the case. I just… let’s say I have my point of view about I.S.S.G.’s methods. Can’t complain, though, it’s possible to gain lots of money in this business and is always challenging and fun. And it’s not like there isn’t differences between girls in bands, on the contrary: there’s plenty. The shy girl, the happy one, the girly, the serious one… Only difference’s that in bands this mix work because it caters to many tastes of fans, bringing more people to watch them and more revenue for all. It’s a good thing, because the differences bring variety and strengthen the group, whereas currently it distances the girls. But no, it’s not as bad as I make it sound, and it can be fun. Forget I said anything. There’s just one thing I…”
He stopped, as if Aratani didn’t want to go on. Having hooked unintentionally Naoko’s attention, though, her producer continued:
“See, this system doesn’t completely eliminate bands, including among otherwise solo idols. A few agencies focus on special contracts to group up standalone stars for special concerts. Violet Lily, for example, is sometimes seen in a band created just for girls with colors in their names. I can recall being Cyan, Scarlet, Coral and Violet, but there are others. That’s an unintentional coincidence for the most part, but a few well-established and keen producers are able to capitalize on this and create a special squad-sort band out of it. There are others, too, including of girls who began on bands and are now tackling solo careers on their free times. It’s not impossible, just harder. Anyway, I would eventually have to tell Naoko-Chan this, so might as well be now. Just take this as an advice, it’s nothing to spoil your happiness or anything, okay? The thing is, you’ll most likely find, once we enter you in gigs, that some girls may not be as friendly as maybe you’d like. I’ll tell you this now so you can put your mind to rest: it’s nothing against you. You’ve no problems and they don’t hate you no matter what they say. It’s just that I.S.S.G. pits girls against one another right from the start, fighting for a top position. Some get reticent with all this rivalry and find it hard to open up to others. It’s nothing personal so don’t feel discouraged if it happens, got it? I know it makes little sense to give you this peep talk right now instead of before your first show, but I’ll remind you of this again in due time, alright?”
This aversion to rivals made Naoko remember a few people, like that woman in the dojo and Shiori from her class. Also, Rin-Chan, who’s not only afraid of rivals but of rivalries and competitions in general. Thinking back, if Rin liked to compete or was opposite to people who could take her place she’d probably never have come talk to Naoko to encourage the new club member to surpass her personal records. Naoko began to get why her producer was averse to making idols compete and try to be different to surpass the others instead of uniting and letting their dissimilarities complement one another.
“Anyway, on to business,” Aratani lighten up the mood, “We still have twenty-some minutes, so before we go I’d like to go over a few explanations about the Idol Star System score mechanics, so we don’t have to go over it all in one single seat before your first presentation, okay? I believe I’ve already told you every ranked presentation with an examining board is evaluated under five categories, right?”
“You mean, like, Dancing and Singing?” Naoko gave it a shot, and Aratani confirmed:
“Exactly. There are actually seven categories, but two of them are kind of unofficial. People call them the “Secret Categories” or “table turners”. They’re just a bunch of personal tastes that can influence judges and a few bonuses and penalties, so we’ll skip it for now. Let’s focus on the five official ones: Singing, Dancing, Aesthetics, Devotion and Memorability. If you paid close attention during that show last Sunday you’ve probably noticed a lot of numbers on the score totals, with each judge giving five scores to every girl on every dance.”
Nodding, Naoko recalled:
“Yeah, I remember those. Especially this “Devotion” thing. I thought it was very strange.”
“Yes, it’s a very… how can I put it… “extreme” naming for a category,” Aratani agreed with a smile, “The previous name was even worse, though: “Idolatry”. I get it make sense because it has an “idol” part to it, but after the reformulation the I.S.S.G. came under to make it more international-friendly, they discovered “idolatry” is generally used in negative contexts in many countries, and opted for “Devotion” instead. It’s still debatable, as some directors of the corporation thing the term “Crowd Interaction” would be more neutral. No matter the real name, this category in informally called “Crowd Control” by most producers and idols, so if you ever hear it, know they’re talking about the Devotion score, okay?”
“I like Crowd Control!” Naoko talked her mind exultantly, “It gives me the impression I’m a powerful sorceress raining down meteors and lightning bolts over hordes of enemies to keep them at bay and obliterate their numbers! I liked this category!”
Unfaltering and cool, Aratani remarked in an ironic way:
“The only thing you’re obliterating with these games are your own neurons, Naoko-Chan. Ahem… We’ll talk about Devotion on another time, first let’s go over Singing and Dancing.”
“Oh, you’ve already told me a few things about the Dancing one, remember?” Naoko pointed it, “After I finished my tests! I remember a few things… but I could use a recap, I suppose.”
“Yes, it’s true,” her producer confirmed, “I’m glad Naoko-Chan recalls it. Let’s begin by it, then. It’s composed of five sub-categories like every other one. In Dancing we have Mood, Stage Presence, Choreography, Execution and Assertiveness. Mood is if your dance captured the feel of a song. Stage Presence evaluates the use of the space of the stage. Choreography is a fixed score about the planned movements you’re supposed to perform. Execution means how well you managed to perform your planned choreography. Last but not least, Assertiveness evaluates if you showed confidence in the stage. Your dancing teacher will tell you more about this one during your classes. Can we go over to the Singing one?”
“Yup,” Naoko agreed, though adding, “Oh, just a question! A shy girl will always have crappy Assertiveness scores, then?”
Reflecting on it for a brief period, Aratani replied:
“It’s a good question. Like everything, it depends. The stage persona an idol incorporates is different from her real self, and the score takes this into consideration. A girl can behave like an introvert cutie, but have high Assertiveness scores, because judges can evaluate it’s part of her acting. Also, a girl can act all reserved but still sing loudly and don’t flinch away from the audience, meaning she has lots of confidence and is merely acting. It’s different from an idol who, even with a smile and a frenetic choreography, stays as far away from the public as possible, makes no eye contact with her fans and generally behaves nervously. Overall outgoing idols end up with slightly higher Assertiveness scores, but that’s maybe d
ue to a bias of judges toward extrovert types. The judges are humans, after all, and can be slightly fooled, but in theory, no, Assertiveness is not a measure of how ample your moves are per se, but if you demonstrate confidence or not in your acting.”
“Oh! Okay then!” Naoko nodded, “So, what about Singing?”
“Once again, your singing instructor will go in the tidbits with you, but I’ll give you an overview of this category,” her producer announced, “Singing is divided between Voice Quality, Lyric Quality, Lyric Difficulty, Interpreting and Rhythm. Voice Quality evaluates if you have ample or narrow vocal amplitude, can reach high and low pitches, if you can modulate between them with ease or not, if you can project it or it’s hard to hear, these kinds of things. Lyric Quality and Lyric Difficulty are both set and unchanging scores evaluated by professional musicians as a song is submitted for approval on I.S.S.G. for the first time. The Quality one means how deep and rich the lyric is, their technical metrics and rhymes composition, use of vocabulary and lots of other stuff. The Difficulty measures if it has lots of pauses for breathing or not, if it forces quick oscillations between high and low pitches, if it has sustained solos for long periods, etcetera. Basically if it can be sung perfectly by an asthmatic seven year-old girl or if only the crème de la I.S.S.G. and professional songstresses can dominate the beast. While both are fixed in value, Interpreting means how well you performed the chosen song, so there’s no point in choosing an absurdly hard composition just for the large fixed points in Lyric Quality and Difficulty if you’re unable to sing it correctly and end up with a ridiculous Interpreting score. Also, Interpreting evaluates the individual flails and personality an idol gives to her music, since no two people will sing the same song in exactly the same way. Finally, Rhythm. It’s self-explanatory: if you don’t sing along with the instruments or the electronic sounds your score will get hurt, otherwise you’ll be fine. Many rookie idols take Singing for granted because of the two fixed scores, but it’s actually one of the hardest categories to master. Also, some people are naturally gifted with good voices and there’s only so much one can do about it, so some idols will naturally have an advantage here.”
Agreeing, Naoko recalled:
“I saw that on the show! That Umeko-San lady sang like an angel! If it wasn’t for that stupid Aesthetics score, Vyper would never have a chance!”
“The Aesthetics category is not stupid, Naoko-Chan, it’s an integral part of presenting yourself, not only on stages but to other people in general.” Aratani declared, “Take a lawyer for example. No one would believe him or her if the person wore a leather jacket over the skin instead of a suit. But yes, I see where you’re coming from. Umeko-San is an amazing idol with an incomparable voice. Though I can assure Naoko-Chan your voice can at least get very close to that kind of perfection with enough training.”
Forcing an acidic laugh, Naoko discredited him:
“Now you’re exaggerating, Produ-San.”
Turning to his computer, Aratani replied while getting a song started:
“I knew you’d say that, Naoko-Chan. So I decided to randomly choose a song Umeko-San sang during the beginning of her career to make my point clear. Bear in mind that she began about ten years ago, meaning she’s part of a band. Six or seven girls in total, I think. There are other voices during this song, but every girl gets a solo part, so I’ll point it out to you when is Umeko-San’s time to shine so you can hear it for yourself.”
An energetic, upbeat and happy song began sounding. The moment a chorus of female voices excitedly started to sing, Naoko got a powerful feeling of nostalgia. The easy and catchy lines were simple, maybe even a little bit silly, but in an unpretentious way. The music was obviously not made to be the next hit of the century or to discuss deep topics, it’s just a cheerful, carefree song, and Naoko liked it just the way it was.
She knew that song, though she could only remember fragments of it. In fact, it brought more memories of her childhood back than recollections of the lyric by itself. The rough, dry and warm feel of a carpet over which she laid down, chest on the floor and legs folded and up in the air. The hot summer sun flooding the living room through open windows. The brightness of her old TV, on which an open-air show was performed in front of a huge acoustical shell amidst the lush green trees of an enormous park somewhere. The enthusiastic group of girls in blue dresses full of frills. Some taller, some shorter, all beautiful and funny. Almost all with long, gorgeous hairs. One a wavy light brown, the other a straight dark curtain. One in particular, the one Naoko liked the most, was a mesmerizing light blond that reflected the sunlight like a golden mirror. All of them danced with joyful choreographies and made the public go crazy. Naoko vaguely remembered wanting badly to be among the cheering audience and to be blond.
So lost in warm, cozy, nostalgic childhood memories the girl almost didn’t notice when Aratani mentioned “Now’s Umeko’s solo”. A very young, girly voice full of energy took the central spot. Though lovely and cute, it’s full of glass-scratching high-pitches and technical imperfections. Caught by surprise by the nostalgia and by that amusing teenager voice that Umeko once had, Naoko burst in laughs. The cheery song kept going until a high-toned end as a road ending in a precipice, leaving only silence after it. Turning off the screen and facing Naoko, her producer asked her a quick “So?”.
The girl stood numbingly recalling fond, half-forgotten memories of when she was six or seven year-old for a few seconds before declaring in thrilled shock:
“I can’t believe it! I remember this song! I remember watching on TV a show with a few girls in a park! It’s so nostalgic! I don’t know if this song belonged to Umeko-San’s band or what, but I can recall it!”
“What did you think about Umeko-San’s voice at the beginning of her career?” her producer questioned, to which Naoko laughed. “Produ-San, it’s so strange to hear her like a teenager! It’s as if it’s a completely different person from the Umeko of the show we watched last weekend! Are you sure you’re not trying to deceive me or anything?”
“I swear it’s the same person,” Aratani guaranteed with a cool smile, “Hard to believe, right? But it’s true. Once a girl matures into a woman and her vocal chords stabilize it’s too late to make any drastic changes on it, but on the other hand it also becomes more harmonious. Less peaks of hormones to screw it up, meaning more control over it and a cleaner, more polished singing. Of course Umeko-San was born with a fabulous voice and trained it, but I’m just showing you it’s not impossible for Naoko-Chan to reach the same kind of vocal perfection in six or seven years if she trains hard. Your eighty-eight Singing score in the tests didn’t take in consideration the two fixed lyric values, meaning we evaluated you highly in Voice Quality, Interpreting and Rhythm. You have good vocal amplitude, cleanliness, cadency and other important attributes without ever having trained it. I’m not joking when I say you have potential to get at least close to Umeko’s singing level. Certainly not by tomorrow, but some day. I’m telling you, Naoko-Chan is perfect material for a fan favorite member of a band and a solo star.”
Reassured, Naoko opened up a room-warming smile. Aratani, grinning back, joked:
“Oh, how I love to see you happy. But you know what I love more than it? Pestering you. You may have Umeko-San’s potential, but don’t try to imitate her in every regard. Get your dancing fixed up unless you want you get bested by a well-endowed, catsuit-clad stunning girl. Unless… we get you a catsuit too! Now, I’d like that!”
Instead of explaining about the Aesthetics category in the remaining minutes before departure, Aratani used the time to laugh and protect himself from slaps. He could explain the rest another time when he wasn’t being attacked.
The work for the bedding company on a photographic studio was smooth as the white and rosy pillow Naoko was put to rest on. It felt somewhat cold for extended periods of time, which was exactly the innovation the company was trying to sell during that spring. With specialists predicting high-tempe
rature records for that year, it’s no surprise a pillow that could remain chilly for longer would sell as much as ice-creams during spring and summer.
She was given comfortable and fresh clothes, just a simple, white sleeveless tee and small, pink pajamas shorts, and put in an impeccably clean, well-illuminated and whitey bedroom scenario only broken by an ice-blue flower and its two small green leaves. It’s not as easy to feel relaxed with a production team of six people and Aratani close-by watching her pretend to sleep like an angel, but since Naoko just closed her eyes and tried to rest her head while making the least amount of wrinkles on the pillow, it wasn’t hard. Ten minutes and hundreds of photos after, she’s out of there. They even gave her the fresh, comfy, enthralling and adorable pajamas free of charge, whatever that was worth.
After getting back home Naoko felt as light as a plume. Umeko’s old song still played on her head, giving her nostalgic vibes from the sunny, blue days in Shimabara. For the first time since she’d arrived in the capital Naoko felt the faintest of desires of getting in touch with something from her hometown. Not her parents, that’s for certain. But the ocean water, or the smell of wet soil of the plantations from distant terrains, or a glimpse of the haze that formed over the hot spring pools by Mt. Unzen’s foothills, anything. Actually, anything that reminded her about her childhood.
Under the lukewarm, crystalline water of her shower Naoko fell into a trance of sorts, remembering when she was seven. When there wasn’t much to do, but life felt like an adventure by itself, a feeling she’d only regained after moving to the megalopolis. Looking to her feet, she let the aromatic shampoo run white over her black hairs as water washed it away, and her eyes rested over her black and white good-luck charm anklet she never remembered she wore. At that time when she recalled her childhood, though, it made total sense. She’d completely forgotten to call her long-time friend Masahiro. Last time they met he looked very sad, but it’s been a week since then, so he should probably be alright by now, she thought.
As soon as she got out of the bath and put on her new pajamas she sent him a message asking how he was doing. After some time she got a surprised response of him, and both talked through texts. He asked how was life going, and Naoko told him how wonderful it was to live in the capital. Her room, her friends, her school, her dojo and the Athletics club, her job, the city… The more she thought about it, the better it seemed. She told him about Miwa, her other female classmates and Rin so much Masahiro eventually asked her in astonishment if she hadn’t made any new male acquaintances. Naoko replied it’s obvious she did, including most of her classroom, the karatekas at the dojo, a few senior boys from sports clubs who’ve helped her and so on. She briefly mentioned the ex-gang boy Daiki and grinning weirdo Katsuro, though not in details so as not to spoil her happiness.
Masahiro’s astonishment immediately faded away. The boy still felt gloomy on his texts, even though saying it’s good to know Naoko was happy. Since Masahiro always took a nosedive into introspection and melancholy when Naoko talked about other men, she changed subjects to her job, telling him all the things she’d already done and how much she liked her producer for his cool but funny personality, his business knowledge and reliability. And once again Naoko notice she’s talking about a man and Masahiro got all the more low-spirited. That was something Naoko hated in her childhood friend. Still, getting in touch with him seemed nice while it lasted, so after the longing was gone she quickly ended the conversation so as not to harm her high-spirits.
On Sunday she returned to the office for a brief talk about the Aesthetics category before going for an extended, eight hour long lesson chain.
“Aesthetics is composed of Idol Presentation, Attire Presentation, Composition, Image Impact and Final Integrity.” showing Naoko photos on his computer as examples, her producer explained her. “Idol Presentation has nothing to do with the clothes, but rather about the girl herself. If she looks like she combed her hair, put her makeup and took time to look pretty or if she looks like the last bath she took was two weeks ago. Also, things like teeth prettiness and other factor influence here. It’s one of the most controversial subcategories of all, because in practice gorgeous girls almost always get the upper hand even if another, less pretty idol had put in the same amount of effort on her hygiene and body care. You don’t have to worry about it, though. Naoko-Chan will most likely cap this subcategory on most presentations as long as you take good care of yourself. Really, it’s hard for any idol to get a low score here, especially after the initial classes when you gain access to stylists and hairdressers before most gigs, offered by I.S.S.G.”
“Is there something like this?!” Naoko questioned eagerly.
“Yes, though until you get to Wood class your only bet is your private stylist. And even after having access to this convenience many high-class idols still prefer private service providers like that hairstylist I sent you to, and to whom you became his therapist. That place is frequented by many top idols, including Water-class ones. I think even one of the five current Star class idols sometimes go there, so really, after you had that experience even the best professionals the I.S.S.G. has to offer will not look like much, I suspect. Anyway, where have I stopped?”
Under the admired eyes of Naoko, who imagined again just how much a haircut at that place could cost, Aratani resumed once he remembered:
“Right, Idol Presentation. After that there’s Attire Presentation. It’s almost the same, only for the clothes. It’s a value given to the condition of the costume. Not really if it’s pretty or not, but rather if it’s well-kept. If dresses don’t have wrinkles, leather is not dried out, if the cloth has no unintended holes, wigs are not worn-out, if things that should shine aren’t opaque and so on. Once again, it’s just a criteria I.S.S.G. created to force agencies to take good care of costumes. The producer needs to be very sloppy and the idol very inattentive or lenient to lose points here. Then there’s Composition, where things get really complicated. Composition takes numerous factor into accounting: if your clothes match, if it makes sense, if it’s aesthetically pleasing, if it fits perfectly or falls too tight or too big… It partially draws from the idol too. If we took Vyper’s costume of that show we watched and put it on a cutesy girl, even supposing it fit her body perfectly the score would be lower because, let’s face it, it’d look odd. Also it’s influenced by the song. If you bring an angel costume to sing a thumping, heavy beat music full of screams it’ll also detract from your Composition score. It’s very easy to lose points here.”
“I remember the Aesthetics score of Vyper changed a bit between songs,” Naoko cited, and her producer agreed, “Precisely. It’s most likely due to Composition. On that attire, which works on a sexier note, she used to get slightly higher scores when acting sexy than when being just fun-loving. If Vyper decided to sing a sad song that had nothing to do with the way she presented herself, her Composition score would most likely plummet.”
Grinning, Naoko joked:
“Well, no Kamijira costumes on stage, then, right?”
“You betcha!” Aratani immediately stated. After a pause, he disclaimed, “Well, not quite. There’re rare few whimsical and rather strange competitions where it’d actually win you many points, but in general, no, no giant lizard, city-stomping Kamijira attires. Though it brings me to the Image Impact subcategory, where the more unique the costume, the better. Obviously I’m not talking about Kamijira-levels of uniqueness, but still. Some attires can be very detailed and pretty, but are also tried and true to the point of feeling somewhat average to the public. The secret to Image Impact is creating your own personal style, something that people can know it’s you even if they don’t see your face. Think of it as an aesthetical fingerprint mixed with a surprise element. And here’s where judges’ personal tastes are supposedly left out, because if a costume makes sense on a shy girl they’ll have to consider it even if their likings were different.” Grinning, he added, “I, personally, would only like to see wom
en on stages, no girls allowed, and only in skinny vests, bikinis and such, but it doesn’t mean I would be able to blame them for wearing something else if I were a judge, for example.”
“Thankfully! At least there’s a perv fail-safe mechanism to keep dirty people like you at bay!” Naoko replied with puffy cheeks.
“Unfortunately,” Aratani mockingly added, “Well, it leaves us only with the Final Integrity to explain. It’s an evaluation on the final condition the outfit is seen after the presentation is over. If spangles fall from a tiara or the whole tiara is lost during a dance, if plumes fall down from wings, a stiletto heel breaks, the cloth get too many wrinkles, anything that changes the state of the garment in an unintended way, it’s deducted from here. Also it counts not only the state of the cloth, but of the idol as well. In practice it’s very hard to get maximum score here because if your hair gets slightly messy after dancing or you lose your breath it’s detracted, though usually it’s also not too bad. The only excuse is if the changes were made by external, unforeseeable causes. For example, if it’s raining, you go there and somehow get wet it’s your fault because even an oyster could have seen this coming, but if the sprinkler system of an auditorium gets broken and ruins your costume and your makeup you’re not blamed for it.”
Taking a look at his black and silver wristwatch, Aratani wrapped it up:
“And that concludes my explanation on the Aesthetics category. Many idols and agents like it because it’s the easiest one to get points on, even if it has one of the most finicky subcategories of all in it, Composition. Overall expect heavy opposition on this front, but since you’re already at an advantage due to Idol Presentation, we can also play this game and send the rivals packing. Higher class presentations include subtopics on each subcategory, like if a costume is particularly expensive or if it has any special meaning, like a nature-friendly attire associated with a song that talks about protecting the environment. Things like that. But there’s currently nothing to worry about it. Do you have any questions, Naoko-Chan?”
Thinking for a moment, Naoko asked:
“Just one, actually. My dancing instructor mentioned something about difficulty modifiers like… heels, platform boots, wearing things that can fall off… Things like that.”
“Yes, there are these.” Aratani explained, “Though they usually fall of in one of the two Secret Categories, that of Bonuses and Penalties. Modifiers are counted separately from the Aesthetics but the final modifier multiplies scores of four Categories. On Aesthetics, specifically, it also multiplies four subcategories: Idol Presentation, Attire Presentation, Composition and Image Impact. Then the Final Integrity is added separately. Note that every one of the five subcategories equate to twenty points maximum, and can’t go higher than this. So if you already have twenty points in, say, Attire Presentation and get a modifier of one point two, it doesn’t mean your final Attire Presentation score will be twenty four points. It’ll still be capped at twenty. But if it was, say, ten, then after the modifier it’ll go up to twelve. Just as a final note, a few rare rule sets alter these values, uncapping them for modifiers or changing their respective values to give emphasis on specific subcategories, but that’s a nonissue for most of the shows. If we ever get into a competition with funky rules I’ll let Naoko-Chan know beforehand and will help you prepare accordingly, don’t worry. Any more questions about Aesthetics or modifiers?”
“Hm…” Naoko thought for a moment. Suddenly curious, she asked, “Oh, I’ve one! How much does platform boots add to the modifiers?”
Her producer, raising his shoulders showing he didn’t know, searched on his computer files for a moment and responded, looking at his screen:
“Platform boots which are five centimeters or higher nets you a five percent bonus, plus one percent for every extra inch, up to a maximum of ten percent. So yours, being around three inches tall, nets you six percent I think.”
“Can I see what’re the biggest bonuses?” Naoko asked, and Aratani, while letting her, warned, “This incomplete list only serves as a reference. Also, if I were you I’d not think about wearing these things just for the modifiers. Some of them are even prohibited on a few stages as far as I’m aware, like ice skates, since they can ruin the floor. Not to mention it’d be next to impossible to dance on those.”
Ice skates were among the items that conferred maximum bonus points, equal to ten percent. At nine percent were some of the most extreme stiletto heels and rollerblades. That list only showed footwear, so Naoko’s curiosity wasn’t totally satisfied, but it’s curious nevertheless.
Aratani decided not to give information so far about the other two categories, Devotion and Memorability, because Naoko would already have a lot of things to remember on that day. She got sent to an eight-hour long lesson session, composed of four classes of two hours each. Two of those were Dancing classes, while the other two were Singing and Body Language like usual. The four hours of Dancing were divided in two parts, separated by the two other sessions so as not to extenuate her too much, but nevertheless it drained the girl dry of the last bit of her energy. It was as exhaustive as it was productive, and Naoko felt if she had just a little less physical constitution and body conditioning she’d be screwed.
In her dancing exercises she learned and practiced the most basic movements and poses. According to her instructor, the difference between the two was that movements were part of the choreography and expected to be performed during the songs, affecting her Dancing score, while poses served mostly the purpose of increasing her Devotion one, though it could also impact others. They were just stances throw in between moves to interact with the crowd and the cameras. A good act at the right time could give the audience the impression the idol called for them, and could also emphasize a specific part of a song. It’s easier to chain movements than poses since the last were static while the first could fluidly link together.
Besides those her instructor told there were other, higher level elements to a presentation like Comebacks, Steppings, Stances and more. Two or three comebacks would be taught relatively soon, for they’re used as a last resort to turn a flop into an artistic movement. Despite this, they were only going to be presented in-depth at a later date just like steppings, which revolved around moving around while looking pretty in order to make use of the whole stage. Stances, on the other hand, weren’t even going to be taught there, for they revolved around mental postures, for what little Naoko could understand. Her instructor declared even she didn’t understand how those worked but they’re more like powerful psychological elements than choreographic ones. Only a few idols knew anything about it and even fewer, mostly Water class ones, made use of it. One thing she’d eventually learn that, while nowhere near as complex as stances, were psychological elements too that she’d be taught there, according to her instructor, was called Mimicking. Basically they’re imagination exercises that let an idol adopt a few behaviors they drew from mental sources, like acting as an animal or as another person. They’re hardly as useful as Stances, but could add some variety and were treated like moving poses, mixing it with steppings to some very interesting results. But, then again: high-level material. Naoko was expected to learn the basics before anything else.
Since Naoko had done no homework from the body language class aside from the unintentional training of body postures at her meeting with Katsuro and Daiki at the laundry, she got to work double to catch up with the instructor on that class and learn new things like breathing techniques to calm down and the use of mental visualizations to train muscle coordination even without actually employing them. That second one made Naoko initially reticent, for it sounded almost like magic to train movements to be performed just on her mind, but surprisingly it worked. She noticed she could prepare herself to execute anything from choreographed moves to karate blows and swimming member coordination just by going into meditation and using visualization techniques. It’s hard for her, but possible nonetheless. In fact, Naoko discovered
the thing she’d done in her tests imagining a blond idol by her side was a much more advanced visualization technique than she’s being taught, though there were also trainings to perform that in more reliable and practical ways.
Naoko paid special attention to the Singing classes since her producer showed her Umeko’s teenager voice. Her instructor not only let her rehearse a few songs she’d most likely perform in her first presentations but also began training her on improving her vocal amplitude, increase her capacity to modulate it on the fly and reduce noises, among other things. Noises, like her teacher explained her, were tiny (or not so tiny) imperfections created by unwanted air circulation inside the vocal apparatus. The woman quickly noticed Naoko had a small septum deviation just by the way her inhaling through her mouth could be heard on the microphone and by how some nasal sounds seemed slightly off. She told her it only detracted minor points on the first many classes, but on the top tiers it could chip her score noticeably, and proposed trainings to help her mitigate these effects while training her on improving the maximum acoustical frequencies her voice could reach.
Beyond that spectrum, which in Naoko’s case was already good in her teacher’s opinion, she could reach slightly higher or lower frequency ranges through the controlled use of falsetto, though ideally they’d train her so she could perform naturally on those ranges. Falsetto was a process through which a person could reach an octave or so beyond their usual vocal range, though almost always with a loss at tone quality, resonation and other important characteristics, making it sound usually breathier. It’s a last resource to be used if a song demanded it, but since it sounded worse and the prolonged use of it could strain the vocal system, it’s best used on the least amount of occasions possible.
Naoko was also given homework lessons about musical theory so she could understand what was an octave, a frequency, a note and so on. She was also given information to study about solmization, both the international solfège, Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La-Ti scale most people knew but had no idea what its purpose was, and its Japanese classical counterpart, I-Ro-Ha-Ni-Ho-He-To. Apparently it only served the purpose of teaching scales and pitches, but since the girl didn’t know what the purposes of those were too, it’s useful.
Finally, her last dancing class got her rehearsing a few dances she could use on her first few presentations, according to the songs she’s also being taught. At the end of the lesson the teacher also called in about ten girls around eight years old that were waiting for their collective class to begin, to watch Naoko perform a few presentations. It served the purpose of getting her ready for exhibiting herself in front of an audience. Naoko was already worn-out badly, but the prospect of having a cheering crowd pumped her up and carried her through the last ten minutes of class. She got somewhat nervous, far more than it seemed reasonable for the circumstances, which at first made her clam up. Only it reminded her about Rin and her panicking at the karaoke, and deciding not to commit the same mistakes her friend did Naoko forced confident postures and tried to relax and open up from her defensive shell. It all went well and the applauses cheered her up.
When it’s over, Naoko could see her effort had many similarities with the memory of Rin overcoming her fears in the karaoke, though exhausted as she was she couldn’t reach any conclusions at the time as to why was that so. After training karate on Thursday, attending to the Athletics club the two days after and eight hours of classes on Sunday her body itched for a respite. Furthermore, she’s supposed to train her dancing outside of her classes too, though the girl had no idea where she could do so. Aratani suggested she found an isolated part of a park or asked on her school if she could use the theater when it’s vacant, but the more Naoko though about having to move ever again, the more she came to like those visualization teachings.
Once everything was done and all she wanted was to go to sleep, Naoko found out she had lots of messages to read, a lot from her friends, both in real life and internet ones, asking how was life going or why she’s absent for so long from online games and communities.
It got her thinking. On her parents’ house she always craved to play when she’s not roaming the town, but now she hardly wanted to do it. If she felt no need to play now that she had so many better things to do, did it mean her gaming habits were just a way to give her a sensation she’s achieving something that now she really was? It’s clear to her she used it to escape having to talk with her parents, and to lock herself on her room without doing nothing would be maddening. Also, she knew it’s something else that allowed her to get new friends, but so far she’d never thought about it as a means of giving her a false sensation of accomplishment. Not that she didn’t like it anymore, but she just didn’t feel the need to play something she’s already familiar with, and that would net her no revolutionarily new experiences.
For once Naoko was glad for not wanting to play and for not wanting to dwell on internet communities. Even her childhood friend Masahiro decided, in the girl’s understanding, to stop being stupid and resumed his sending of messages. As if he’d not been silent for a whole week waiting Naoko to take the initiative of looking for him. He’s also back to his usual self, worrying for her well-being and wishing her a good night, but despite being very happy, she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him, or anyone else for that matter. Furthermore her social media was overloaded with requests of people from her school to connect with her. Too many people asking for attention and making her jaded with it. So Naoko simply decided not to answer any messages that day. Maybe some other time, when she wasn’t so bushed and people were not overwhelming her with useless small talk.