#tIWarc

[kyotohub-ktv]

金貨 | The Idol Watch

  ♫  You got on my mind silently.

You came inside my heart without permission.

You bloom in me unprepared

and drank my love with such beautiful lips. ♫

  At the first sound of Fuwari’s voice, melodic and distinguished among the frenzied cries of the audience, flawlessly synthesized with the accompaniment from the other members of SNOW, Daichi realized he never stood a chance. It took more effort than he would ever admit to keep from surging forward in time with his heart. Instead, Daichi found his (annoyingly) trembling hands falling to either side of him, gripping the cushioned seat with all he had. If Dai'd been impressed by Fuwari’s voice on the album track and in the (many) YouTube videos he'd watched before...well, if the effort it was taking him to keep his mouth from gaping wide open was any indication, his expectations had been met, surpassed, and blown out of the goddamn water with just the first few lyrics of the song.

  ♫  I thought this was love and I dedicate myself to her, believing in her.

When I opened my eyes after devoting my everything to her

She had melted into the air like the wind. ♫ 

  Something private deep down inside him was vibrating wildly, filling him with equal parts excitement and unease. His gilded disdain and contrived bravado peeled away in layers with each enchanting note that dripped from Fuwari's lips--nearly exposing the most confusing parts of him that absolutely needed to remain hidden during this live broadcast in front of millions of viewers. But as the first verse melted to the second, Daichi found that those enthralling lyrics, ones he'd heard so many times he had them memorized, stripping his truth bare. They blanketed him in nostalgia and left him utterly and honestly captivated by the boy at center stage. 

  He-…his voice…it really sounds like that. Daichi closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep, almost composing breath as he appreciated the unique timbre of Shino’s effortless crescendo. Even better in person, really...

  Daichi's eyes slowly opened, heavily lidded as he focused on the silhouette of Fuwari's swaying form in the midst blinding stage lights. From what Dai could tell, he truly was a natural performer. Each and every move seemed effortless and right. As infuriating as it should have been (and normally would have been), it did nothing but speed up the already dangerously rapid beat of Daichi's heart. He was so acutely aware of Shino in that moment that he could make out the slight movements in his hands as he gripped the mic, just barely twitching with adrenaline as he leaned in to perform the first chorus. His feet were loosely planted on his mark and he favored his left side slightly as his right foot tapped lightly to the beat of the song. His back contracted every few seconds, perfectly mimicking the trained intakes of breath Fuwari was using to soar his performance to new heights. 

  ♫ She’s a butterfly

You came to me like a lie

Beautiful butterfly

You left me like the wind.

You flew away after fooling my love, leaving only your scent Fly

Far away so that I could not see you forever ♫

  He was sure that if any of his bandmates could pull their attention away from SNOW's performance to look at him, they'd probably 1.) be in an overdramatic state of shock because they were all over dramatic about everything and 2.) ask if he was alright because he looked almost drunk. It wouldn't make any sense to them (and honestly, with the way he acted 99% of the time, it shouldn't) that Daichi would be remotely interested in, nonetheless awestruck by Fuwari and SNOW's performance. But that was because they didn't know...well, much about him at all; especially his long-standing fixation with the quartet...and Shino, specifically. Hell, the blatant hatred he displayed towards them was so believable that he could forget about it himself most of the time. 

  The truth was nearly the opposite. It wasn't as cut and dry as him being a secret superfan but Dai had been keeping up with the breakout band for the past 3 years--way before their official debut. He'd discovered their first EP by accident one night after work, on the way to band practice.

    Daichi's fingers, toes and everything in between ached after working a brutal 11-hour shift at Shin'ya Rōzu. It was just after 3 a.m. and before he could wrap his mind around the blissful idea of sleeping for the next 8 hours, Ryuuchi's chipper ass called to inform him of a 3-hour opening at the small (shitty) studio where they recorded at 3:30. Apparently, the group that was going to use the booth decided they'd get some sleep like normal humans rather than try to record a fucking EP at 4 in the morning. And because "band that was yet to be named consisting of 5 shithead kids" was scheduled so far on the waiting list that it should have been criminal for the studio manager (if you could call him that) to take their money, Ryu got a disgruntled call to occupy the prime time spot. Lucky them. 

  Being the guy that he was, Ryu insisted that they all rush there and try to bang out as many quality snippets with actual studio equipment they could before having to slink back to the hell that was a rinky-dink, makeshift studio with 10-year-old soundboards and blown subs in Inari's garage. Not to mention bust their asses working for another few months to afford more studio time.  As much as he hated to admit it given his bones felt like jelly, Daichi agreed that they really needed some quality airtime if their EP was going to make it anywhere any time soon. Their lyrics and instrumentals were solid, but no one wanted to listen to a tape that sounded like it was recorded in a public bathroom. They needed a proper track to get booked for gigs and they needed gigs to get recognition in order to get anywhere (which hopefully included a one-way ticket to discovery). So, in true self-deprecating fashion, he grumbled out a dispassionate affirmation to meet the rest of the group after he stopped by 7/11 for coffee and some semblance of nourishment. 

  Obnoxious neon signs boasting cheap hotel rates and 24/7 pachinko illuminated Daichi’s path as he took tired strides down the still-busy Tokyo street. It was amazing how different the actual city was from the outskirt towns like the one his...guardians probably still lived in. There, everything closed around 9, kids were neat and proper and in before the streetlights came on and the most scandalous thing that happened was Kidamara-san losing his job at the University because he had a slight drinking problem. Here, in the districts of Tokyo city, nothing ever closed, kids of all ages smoked, drank, and sold themselves for a quick buck, and scandal was synonymous with breathing. If he had it in him to feel anything, he might feel right at home with the misfits, wrongdoers and broken people here. A place where no one fit, so everyone belonged.

  "Chichi-kun! Late night for my handsome boy?" a deep timbre that didn't match the daintily made-up face and mesh, neon halter dress suddenly rumbled beside him. It was Cherry-chan, a prostitute that worked in the district that Dai had met during his first few weeks at his current job. She was a tall drink of transgender water at 6'2" with perky DDs and beautiful dark brown hair. If it weren't for the whole "woman that has man bits" thing, Dai would have been super attracted to her.  

  "Cherry-chan. You're looking as beautiful as ever tonight." He painted on a forced smile. Cherry was always good to him, checked on his well being and asking after his health every time they met. Though his expression wasn't genuine, she deserved the pleasantry more than most of the people he was forced to smile at. "And unfortunately so. Headed to record too so no rest for the wicked, I'm afraid."

  "Kyaaa~! Chi-kun, don't tease me!" Cherry pressed her manicured hands to painted cheeks in a dramatized gesture to show her flattery. "Sweet boys your age need to make sure to get rest! Promise me you'll get some sleep before I see you tomorrow."

  "I'll try, Cherry-san. For you."

  "That's my boy. *chuu*"

  "You be safe tonight too, Cherry-chan. I don't want to have to come after any more of your 'clients'."

  "You're my knight in shining leather, Chi-kun. But I should be fine tonight. I'm meeting Hikari-chan in a few minutes so I won't be alone."

  "Good. Well then, same time, same place tomorrow?"

  "You know it, baby."

  Daichi waved as he crossed the street, chuckling under his breath when Cherry-chan feigned sobs at his departure. Never in a million years would he have guessed he'd be on friendly terms with a prostitute but, if his life had taught him anything, it was to never expect anything because shit was bound to happen to him. And though he knew he shouldn't venture down this rabbit hole of thoughts, his self-loathing didn't have an off switch. Because bad shit happening to him was like a divine prophecy. The worst shit, actually. Like being forced away from his home town and beaten senseless by his step-dad while his mom watched or having his dad d-...

  That train of thought, as it always tended to do, onset a very piercing headache. Which usually preceded some sort of jarring flashback or cognitive dissonance episode that left him either dry heaving or hyperventilating. And while he was due for an episode since it'd been over 12 hours since the last one, the middle of the sidewalk at 3:10 a.m. probably wasn't the best place to have it. He just needed to get somewhere inside so he could have a moment to calm down. 7/11 was just a block down and if he stabilized his breathing he could make it. Just a few hundred steps. He could do this...

  Suddenly, a shrill alarm pieced the jumbled beats from dozens of clubs blasting music of different genres, overpowering them all in favor of Daichi's absolute least favorite sound: an ambulance siren. It was just seconds later that the telltale red and blue flashing appeared before his blown gaze. The obtrusive visual lasted for what felt like minutes as the white vehicle sped past him, stealing his breath and any hopes of getting to 7/11 before losing his shit. He felt his stomach lurch aggressively as his mouth began to water. Daichi gripped his middle section, pressing his satchel to his body as he looked about frantically for a few moments. Hazy emerald eyes locked on to the nearest neon "OPEN" sign, body moving on its own accord the sanctity of somewhere inside. He'd probably end up puking all over some tattoo parlor's floor and get bitched out about it but at least he'd be inside and less likely to get robbed. 

  He heard the faintest jingle as he burst through the door of the shop. By the grace of some being he didn't believe in and therefore wouldn't thank, there was a small rusty trash can by the door. Daichi dropped to his knees, gripping the sides of the can, emptying his nearly-empty stomach into the wastebasket with one massive contraction of his guts. The dry-heaves continued after Dai was finished for a few more minutes, making him shake and exhausting his tired body even further. Still, he needed to get up and get his shit together. He'd been through this song and dance more times than he could count so it wasn't so uncomfortable as it was annoying--mostly because if he didn't get going soon Ryu would start calling his cell over and over which wasted his minutes.

  "Woah, you okay man?"

  Great. A concerned citizen. Daichi groaned to himself. While the whole idea of it was nice, the impending social interaction would do him absolutely no favors. A small grunt was all he could muster in response as the bile from his recent activity burned the roof of his mouth.

  "Here, take this. You need it more than me." Daichi suddenly felt something chilled against his overheated cheek, making him realize just how hot he was in all black in the dead of summer in Tokyo right after puking his guts out on the floor of a random...music store? How fucking ironic.

  Dai blinked a few times to get his bearings, mind piecing together his surroundings much slower than he would have liked. Racks of CDs, records, guitars on the wall, drum set in the corner, posters everywhere. Yep, definitely a music store. He craned his head up to behold his benevolent counterpart with the cold bottle still smashed to his face. The guy had spiky flaming red hair, jutting out in all directions. He was wearing an oversized jacket with patches all over it and jeans that were almost too ripped to be worn in civilized public. A lit cigarette hung from his lips, flaring nearly the same color as his oddly pigmented eyes. He donned a furrowed brow that was all types of concerned for the poor mass of teenager that was Daichi crumpled on the floor. He didn't look like a creeper or a tweaker so the emotion was most likely genuine. Basic human interaction...social skills...he should use them.

  "T-thanks, man." He sounded like he'd swallowed an entire bag of cotton balls while he shakily stood and grabbed at the bottle which turned out to be an unopened Pocari Sweat. Though he absolutely detested the way they tasted, anything was better than the fresh vomit taste his mouth was sporting right now. He cracked the seal with a slight cringe before downing a few painful gulps. Daichi inhaled deeply through his nostrils, forcing the liquid down his throat as he beheld the guy that offered him the drink a little closer. He looked young...maybe 19 or 20. He had a few records in his hand and what appeared to be a camera bag strapped to his side. Probably some kind of photography student...or porn photographer--either was likely in this part of the city.

  "No problem! You sure you're good?"

  "Yeah, bad sushi for dinner is all."

  "Right, I catch your drift man. I'll let it ride."

  "Thanks. Let me pay you for the drink."

  "No worries, dude. Like I said, you needed it more than me."

  "I insist..." Handouts were absolutely not Daichi's policy. Good deed or no, he was gonna pay this guy back. He started to reach for the inner pocket of his bag where his coin pouch rested, "200 yen enough?"

  "Seriously man, we're square." Dai was about to open his mouth in protest again before the redhead lifted his hands with an exasperated chuckle.

  "Okay, okay. I can see you aren't gonna let it go. So here." He fished out a square package from his camera bag, extending what was now discernable as a CD case to Daichi. The blonde grabbed at the case hesitantly, flipping it up vertically so he could check out the cover art and the band name. SNOW?

  "This is my little sister's band's first EP. I carry a few extra copies so I can give em' out to people to promote them 'nd me since I did the cover photo. Take it and give it a listen and we're even, deal?"

  Dai flipped the CD case over, quickly scanning the tracklist of 5 songs that made up the EP. Interesting. They really looked interesting. The overall vibe of the tracklist, the cover art, even the ages of what looked like young teens on the cover was strikingly similar to the no-named situation Dai was in with his 4 bandmates. Maybe it could be some inspiration. “If they can do it so can we” kinda thing. Yeah, no harm in taking it.

  "Alright, will do. Thanks..."

  "Kisa. And it's all good. Hope you get to feelin' better..."

  "Kagayama."

  "...Kagayama!" Kisa closed the gap between him and the door in a few quick strides. He pushed the rusted thing open, earning both a metallic groan and the call of the bell again. "And if you like that EP and you're ever in Kyoto, come check them out live at the 86. Tell em' you know me and they'll treat you right."

  Kyoto? The 86? Man...this guy sure is interesting. Daichi thought momentarily, giving the young photographer one last once over before calling after his retreating form.

  "Sure, man!"

  Daichi caught the closing door with a flat palm, keeping it propped open as he began to step out of the shop. He'd wasted enough time hurling and talking and recovering so he didn't have time to stop at 7/11 to address his basic human necessities before needing to sprint the 8 blocks to the recording studio. With eyes downcast, studying the cover art of the SNOW EP he stepped from the music store, allowing the door to swing free and slam unceremoniously. He decided he'd give it a listen when he got a moment to himself. To settle his debt and to see if there was anything to them before bringing it to the band. What was the worst that could happen?

  Dai flipped his bag open, dropping the CD in the messy contents of the bag with little care. Then, he took off down the street, moving as fast as his worn legs would take him to the studio--hoping that the last glance at his watch absolutely didn't read 3:25 a.m. As he dodged night workers and drunk couples stumbling from underground clubs, the wind pushing his cropped blond hair away from his boyish face, Daichi felt a small, inexplicable smile come to his lips.

  SNOW, huh?

    After a grueling 3-hour session and another hour walk back to the shitty apartment he, Ryuuchi and Minato shared with Ryuuchi's older brother, Daichi had collapsed onto his futon at 8 a.m. and popped in his headphones. He loaded the CD he'd been given into his CD player, planning to fall asleep to whatever was on it. However as soon as he hit play, Daichi's eyes flew open, awake, alert and completely taken aback. The production quality was fair and the instrumentals were solid but what got him most was the lead singer's voice. He was still young, that much was clear, but still there was a richness to it that just sounded really good...and so fucking familiar. 

  An uncanny feeling spread in the back of Daichi's neck as he listened. He'd never heard that guys voice before that moment, so what the hell was up with his brain? He shook it off in favor of paying attention to the next track that had automatically played after the last had finished. Regardless of his weird feelings and after listening to half of the songs on the CD, there was no denying that SNOW was talented given that this was only their first EP--especially their vocalist. Daichi sat up from his futon in search of the abandoned CD case, silently cursing the fact he'd spent another hour awake and the sun was unmistakable shining through the thin ass curtains in the living room. When he finally retrieved it, he dropped back to the fluffy bedstuff with a small "oof", holding the back of the case up above his head with extended arms. He read through the tracklist again, this time associating tunes and lyrics from what he could remember with their corresponding song.

  Daichi relaxed his arms and pulled the CD closer to his face suddenly, squinting so he could read the small credit print at the bottom of the artwork. Art and Design: Funaba Gintori....Photography:"Kisa".....Vocals: Fuwari Shino....

  His grip on the plastic case loosened tremendously, causing it to fall and mash his nose in a manner that should have been both painful and annoying. Instead, Daichi found himself rolling to his side, the clutter of the CD case falling to the ground shortly following the movement, pressing his face into his pillow until it hurt. The inexplicable smile from earlier that morning was back and as he felt his muscles finally turn to mush as his body drifted off to sleep, there was only one thing on his mind:

  Fuwari Shino...

    From that moment on, Daichi kept tabs on SNOW and Fuwari. For a while, he listened to them in secret, keeping his interest from his bandmates for fear of dramatic calls of betrayal and polluting his mind with someone else's sound. He learned every song and score, the cadences and the changes in Fuwari's voice as he got older. Tracked down EPs and singles and even a small performance poster through means that were absolutely too extensive for someone that wouldn't claim to be a fan. But then, they became WISH and SNOW started gaining more recognition, even in the Tokyo music scene. 

  So he shared them, what he knew about them under the guise of research. Kirra, Ryu, and Inari immediately developed a distaste, being young, stupid and envious. Daichi and Minato maintained silent agreement to the sentiment, pointedly less spastic than the other 3 band members. He still gathered everything he could on SNOW, but with different, dissonant methods to his madness. He needed to dislike them because his bandmates did and they were ultimately similar in sound and therefore the ultimate competition to the still widely unknown WISH. So when they went to live shows and underground events, it was scoping, not seeing. And he buried the part of him that appreciated their music as a fan. Masked it with hatred and jealousy because that's what he should have been feeling towards their rivals. Especially Fuwari. Because he was their shining star. The reason they were a cut above the rest,  his vocals and lyricism weren't to be admired and appreciated...but censured and condemned. Because they came so naturally to him, it seemed so easy. WISH had worked just as hard, but SNOW was ahead by leaps and bounds. 

  And the only way to feel about them, especially their fearless leader was negative, right?

  Whether or not it was, that's exactly what happened for Daichi. For the past year, part of his personality had been an open dislike of SNOW and especially their vocalist. Amidst buying their first album and streaming all of their music videos over and over, it was almost as if the more SNOW developed and became something he truly respected, the more reasons Daichi had to find to hate them. Especially Shino, who was gracious and likable and talented and the complete opposite of the callous, barely-human creature that Daichi was. He seemed to sing and play because he had a true deep-rooted love for it, which was something Daichi had lost a long time ago. It made him fume, rage and hate not only Fuwari but himself even more. And what was worse, looking at the guy for more than a few minutes at a time always onset a hazy sense of nostalgia that he couldn't quite explain. It could have been related to the first time he'd listen to that EP years ago but something about it felt deeper, more significant. And there was never a light at the end of that tunnel, just more confusion and annoyance toward the guy.

  However, Fuwari's music, he found, could cut down any walls his broken psyche had erected; no matter how big and what damage it did to his sensitive brainscape afterward. 

  ♫ I couldn’t have seen up ahead due to tears and began to be tired for missing her.

My heart had dried up after a long drawn out unknown illness

and I was destroyed not to love someone never more just like a nightmare.

  She’s a butterfly

You came to me like a like

Beautiful butterfly

You left me like the wind.

You flew away after fooling my love, leaving only your scent Fly

Far away so that I could not see you forever♫

    Nothing about Daichi hated Fuwari right now. He could feel the subtle tug of an inexplicable smile at his lips, same as the day he'd first heard of SNOW. He was older, more controlled and bound so there was no risk of the childish expression breaking out on his face but the sensation alone was enough to give him a headache. How should he be feeling right now? Upset? Angry? Excited? Happy? It was all overwhelming, too much to process as thoughts and feelings surged within his mind at a mile a minute. Trying to figure it out at this very moment in time was probably a bad idea so he went with his default answer: feel nothing.

  ♫ Love is not just the most beautiful untruth

but to make somebody crazy the most beautifully.♫

  Except for Fuwari's voice. Let him take you somewhere else, like before. An unfamiliar voice echoed in his head. If he weren't so good a staying composed, he may have fallen off his stool in surprise. Daichi found himself blinking a few times in rapid succession, fighting the urge to freak out. Sure, his psyche was fragmented and all sorts of fucked up, but voices you didn't recognize whispering sweet nothings was absolutely a bad sign. And as he'd recognized for the thousandth time, this was not the time to have new, fucking concerning psychological symptoms emerge out of nowhere. Dai swallowed, feeling pinpricks in his throat swell and ache with the action. Looking at Fuwari wasn't helping anymore. The uncanny feeling from years ago was spreading across the back of his neck, making his legs restless and his palms sweat. This was not good. This was not good at a-...

  ♫ She’s a butterfly

You came to me like a lie

Beautiful butterfly

You left me like the wind.

She’s a butterfly

It’s okay that it’s a lie

Beautiful butterfly

It’s okay that you leave me again.♫

  'Dai,' a sharp whisper and a nudge broke his panic as he snapped a focused jade gaze to the source of the whisper. Kirra, who was sat direct to his right, leaning in close to him with a look of slight annoyance--as if he'd missed something again. 'Did you hear me, you airhead?'

  He leaned in to accommodate her, and to offer his stiffened limbs a reprieve from near-entropy. 'Kirra, now is not the time to be insulting me, what is it?'

  'It's time for us to get ready to go on, we're going to slip off stage so we can get packed-up and tune. You ready?'

  Thank god. Time to play and get my mind off of all of this bullshit. 'Was born ready, big butt.'

  'Don't fucking call me that, you ice princess. Come on, and stop being spacy or I'll kick your ass.'

  'Love you too, Kirra-bear.'

  Kirra nudged him again, a bit harder before flashing him a quick middle finger and gracefully standing from her stool in a manner that didn't disturb the performance in front of them. Daichi followed suit, peeking at Fuwari over his shoulder one last time before following the rushed commands of that stage manager as soon as he stepped into the wings.

  ♫ Please fly into me and bloom love for me even though you take everything, leaving tears.♫

  Fuwari's final lyrics were muffled by the heavy weight of the curtains in the wings as the swell of applause and screaming as the song reached its climax elevated to a deafening level in the studio. Fans were yelling out the last few lines with a renewed vigor, others were chanting the band members name in coordinated stings. All of it was a sight to behold...or to behear, rather. The sheer excitement and energy from the crowd had the other members of WISH bouncing off the walls. 

  Ryuuchi was making it very hard for a tech to secure his mic pack to his hip as he rocked from side to side, rehearsing his parts of the song. 

  Kirra was brushing her hair in true, pre-show fashion, trying very hard not to look nervous as she mouthed her harmonies and fingered the chords for the bass line. 

  Inari was strumming his unplugged guitar while a very enthralled looking make-up artist spiked up his hair in all directions, as per his instruction. 

  Minato was tapping his sticks on a drum pad in a complex pattern of taps Daichi didn't even attempt to decipher, looking as cool as a cucumber even though Dai knew that he was jumping around like a 5-year-old inside. 

  And he...wasn't doing anything. He didn't need a mic pack so he'd gotten a few touch ups by the unpleasant looking make-up artist who may or may not have stepped on his shoes on purpose twice while he was allegedly fixing Daichi's powder. He was on the mixer and violin for this track so he'd already checked them before they'd even gotten on stage initially. In usual fashion, he lacked the enthusiasm his bandmates had by nature of his personality (or lack thereof most of the time) but not for the usual reasons. Honestly, he wanted to be back out there, listening to the last few measures of Butterfly, no matter how much his mind was screaming that he shouldn't. He wanted to watch the performance to fruition, see the crowd jump and yell and praise them for their showing. He wanted to watch Fuwari bow and fist bump his bandmates one more time for a job well do-...

  What the fuck was he thinking? 

  He didn't want or need to do any of those things. Period.

  He needed to focus. on. this. performance. 

  Nothing else. He needed to get this fucking performance done and then get as far away from Fuwari as he possibly could. Because whether it be here on national television on in classes at school, being around him just made Daichi different. Think different. Feel different. Be different. Which was absolutely not a good thing. His being, personality and all was an exact science. An equation that had no room for extra variables. So the fact that just being in the same room with that guy could make Daichi forget everything he needed to be and maintain meant that interactions needed to be as limited as possible. If he were honest, regardless of how infuriating having Fuwari ignore him was, it was probably for the best.

  ♫ She’s a butterfly

Beautiful butterfly

Beautiful butterfly♫

  After the last note sounded in the studio, there was an uproar of applause that lasted for a solid 5 minutes. WISH was officially on standby in the wings, watching as the members of SNOW bumped fists again (just as Daichi thought they would) and greeted the crowd with smiles and bows. Fuwari spoke a few words he didn't quite catch to the audience before stepping to the side and letting Kenta K and Mitsuri take over again.

  "What. a. PERFORMANCE, am I right?" Kenta K managed over the howls and calls of "Shino!".

  "I'll say, Kenta. I'd hate to follow that!"

  "Well, Mitsuri-chan, I'm sure our next performers are more than up for the challenge!"

  "Oh, no doubt! I just meant that I can't sing at all so there's no way I could follow up that stellar performance. But since WISH is out of this world, they'll have no problem giving SNOW a run for their money!"

  "That's for sure! We're gonna head off for a short break folks. And when we get back, get ready for WISH!"

  The next few minutes passed in the blink of an eye. SNOW's setup was struck and WISH's stood in its place. The quartet of performers were shuffled to the gallery where they were touched up and given water. As Daichi was checking the settings on the mix board, he noticed that the odd-looking make-up artist that was (now obviously) rude to him was super charming with the members of SNOW, especially Fuwari. He was acting super chummy, laughing and taking special care to make sure the frontman was pristine after his performance. The notion of all that shit made Daichi's face heat up in anger. He ground his teeth together, focusing is attention back on the mixer and his electric violin. Not the time. Not the fucking time.

  A few more seconds passed and the stage manager called the two-minute warning. Daichi felt his heart leap up in his throat, doing triple time in the wake of another performance. It was always surreal, getting ready to perform in front of crowds of people. Especially now, here in KTV station performing for millions of fans at home. Never in a million years would he have thought, laying on an old futon in Ryuuchi's brother's apartment that they would be here. 

  But if his life had taught him anything, it was to never expect anything because shit was bound to happen to him. Mostly bad shit. 

  But sometimes...He looked around the stage in front of him, locking eyes with each of his bandmates and offering them the smallest of smiles, then to the audience, where their fans were pressed to the edges of the stage, holding up signs, yelling and crying and everything in between...sometimes good shit happened.

  "Minute to live!"

  "Get your asses in here, guys!" Ryuuchi called suddenly, jogging to center stage. 

  They all moved in sync, hooking arms around each other shoulders and lightly tapping their heads together.

  "This is it, guys. Everything we worked for. Long nights, early morning. Everything is right here." Small sounds of affirmation sounded from all directions.

  "So we gonna leave it all here on the stage?"

  "Till there's nothin' left." Inari chirped.

  "Till they kick us off." Kirra chuckled.

  "Till they can't forget us." Minato added.

  "Till we're at the top." Daichi finished.

  "Then let's do this shit. And make them wish they were WISH!"

  No groans this time. Another moment huddled together, soaking in each others energy, proving to each other that it's real. 

  "Alright! We're going live in 10...9...8..."

  5 shooting stars to their marks, in a matter of seconds. Locked, loaded, and ready for launch.

  7...6...5...

  Daichi nodded to himself, grabbing at the headphones he needs for the first part of the performance and settling one side to his left ear. He adjusted the proper settings on the mixer, feeling adrenaline swell in his chest to near unbearable levels. This is when he comes alive. When past, present, and future mean nothing. It's raw, real energy of the moment. Performing and leaving everything you have in the music. These are the moments he lives for.

  4...3...2...

  This is for you, Dad. Daichi peeked upward for a second, towards the heavens his dad is sure to be looking down at him from. I hope you like this one too.

  He settled his finger on the button for the intro sequence, pressing his free hand to secure the headphone to his right ear with a nod. 

  1.

  Kenta K and Mitsuri's brief introduction passed in a matter of milliseconds, amping the crowd up as the anticipation mounted even higher for everyone in the studio.

  "...WISH!" Is all he makes out of the combined host's voices before slipping his eyes up to look at Ryu's silhouette. 

  With a flourish, the lead singer lifted his hand in the air, signifying the start of the song. And just like that...

  I'm off.

[kyotohub-ktv]

Kenta K: “…-and for our guests on this week’s Newcomer Showcase…!” Mitsuri: “Please welcome the members of-…” Kenta K and Mitsuri: SNOW and WISH!~”

Like clockwork, overwhelming swells of elated applause and washed-out cheers erupted in the large television studio. The cataclysmic roar of sound flooded the room to the rafters, nearly drowning the two groups as they made their respective appearances on stage. Daichi felt his chest expand with breath and something else, barely aware of his feet planting cautious steps across the lacquered flooring that donned the stage. He almost felt like he was swimming; trying as gracefully as possible to flail his arms and navigate the churning waves of recognition and expectation that were plastered across every indistinguishable face in the crowd.

This was the type of feeling that could consume you. Take you under and never let you go. And just as he thought every other time he’d stepped out on stage, it was as terrifying as it was thrilling.

A recurring symptom of being “famous" that he might not ever get used to.

But this wasn’t his first rodeo. And it for damn sure wasn’t going to be his last. So, moving with a practiced sense of purpose the blonde violinist willed his turgid limbs to center stage. His face was stoic and unwavering as he stood at the rear of the line of his bandmates. Each of them took their moment to greet the hosts of the Idol Watch, as SNOW had done just before them moments ago. When it was finally his turn, he paused as they’d rehearsed a day prior to shake Kenta K’s with a slight nod. The bright-haired male made an offhand comment that Dai ignored as he shifted his attention to Mitsuri. Bending at the waist, Daichi bowed to her and grabbed for her hand at the same time. He planted a quick, practiced kiss on the top of Mitsuri’s palm, offering the smallest of smirks before moving to his seat at the leftmost end of his bandmate’s row.

The audience erupted in more cheers and squeals at the act. Kenta K stayed faithful to their skit, giving an exaggerated sound directly into his mic.

“Wow! A bold move from WISH’s Daichi! Am I sensing a loooove connection?”

“K-kenta! Cut that out! You’ll have Daichi-kun’s fan club waiting to jump me outside my apartment!”

More cheers, groans and undistinguishable (slightly inhuman) exclamations sounded as Dai settled onto the semi-uncomfortable stool. The rest of the WISH members followed their scripts as well, the guys joking him and giving him thumbs up while Kirra rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. The artificial smirk stayed screwed on his face as things began to settle a bit and the show got underway.

“Now that everyone’s introduced, let’s get to prying! Shall we?” Kenta K’s voice dropped in a theatrical manner and the lights on the stage did some sort of cheesy effect to accompany the line.

“I second that! Let’s start with SNOW. So how are you guys feeling ton-…"

Daichi found himself zoning out as the Q&A began, emerald gaze scanning his surroundings on pure instinct. He and his bandmates were perched at the back of the SNOW brigade since they had 1 more member. Their smug-faced rivals were aligned in front of the members of WISH, poised between the gaps in the WISH member’s seating.

Luckily, when they’d come in for a run-through yesterday, Daichi found out that not only would he be at the end and the farthest away from their prying hosts, but that Shino of SNOW would be on the opposite end. Which would limit their contact and possibility of interaction to nearly zero.

You won’t hear me complaining about that arrangement, he’d thought at the time. He had to be close enough to the guy enough at school.

A few months prior

It was enough that Fuwari was in his class in the first place. But to have the guy sitting so close to him, surrounded by newly acquired buddies that doted on his every word could seriously be classified as torture.

It had only been a few days but just as Daichi predicted, Fuwari had charmed nearly everyone in the class. All the girls had arbitrary crushes and the guys wanted to hang out after school and play video games with him. Typical high school shit that Daichi wasn’t even remotely interested in.

What really got him was that in all the grabs that Fuwari had made for people’s attention and good graces, he’d completely ignored Daichi. To the point where the blonde was sure it was intentional. Not that he’d been jumping at the chance to become best buds with the guy but still. Fuwari had talked to literally everyone in the class but him. He’d even given Minato an address of acknowledgment and respect. Minato that just one desk apart from Daichi.

What the total fuck is that guy’s problem?

It pissed him off even more that he was pissed about it. He shouldn’t care. He didn’t care. It was just disrespectful. Totally dissing someone that was supposed to be a fellow musician at the same agency.

“Dai, fix your face. You’re glaring.” Minato quipped between bites of Melon bread one morning.

“I’m not glaring.”

“You are. And maybe that’s why he doesn’t talk to you. You look scary. *munch* I wouldn’t take to you either if I didn’t already like you.”

“Fuck you, Mina.”

“Woah, woah Mr. Moody. Did you not get enough sleep last night? You’re never this snappy.”

Dai stiffened and paled a bit, feeling anxiety creep up his spine. Minato was right. His emotions were out of control and that was just not like him. What the hell. He needed to get ahold of himself. This mask was all he had to glue the frayed pieces of his persona together. He couldn’t let it crack. Not even for a second. Not if he wanted to keep functioning correctly.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, grabbing at his bag and standing at the same time. “I don’t think I did. I’m goin’ home.”

“Oi, Dai wait!” Minato called after him. Daichi had already made a few quick strides toward the door, artfully but noticeably slipping past the crowd around Fuwari. The guy didn’t even look up at him. Che.

The anger welling in him drove his retreat faster. He could barely get his phone out of his pocket to call Rinko to come pick him up. He needed to decompress. He needed music. He needed…to figure out why Fuwari pissed him off so much without even opening his fucking mouth.

Daichi blinked a few times as he was brought from his thoughts. His hands at his sides had balled into fists, stinging with pain as his blunt nails dug into the pliant flesh. Minato, who was sat to his immediate right wrapped an enthusiastic arm around his shoulder and pulled him in. No doubt in response to something one of the hosts had said that Daichi missed.

He uncurled his fists, hoping they’d gone unnoticed and the sudden fiery anger he’d felt didn’t show on his face. Now…was not the time to be distracted by Fuwari.

Not to suggest that it happened often. It was just that sometimes when he thought about how utterly irritating the guy was it took him to places in his mind that were hard to get out of. Especially since he was prone to get lost in his own thoughts anyway.

And he was so close right now.

Well..-he was usually close anyway during the day cause—unfortunately—they’d landed in every single class together. Even the composition elective which had Dai chewing on his lip trying not to curse when he’d seen the guy enter the classroom with an excited look on his face a few months back.

But right now he could almost see the air of superiority swirling around the tall darkette that drove Dai totally up-…

‘Stop,' he urged himself in his mind. He could feel the sting of anger forming against his cheeks. He seriously needed to get out of his head. Now. 'Focus on the band. On WISH. Making a good impression in front of the millions of people watching you right now.’

He gulped silently at the thought, going cold as the anger drained from his face and formed a pit of unease in his stomach. Great. Triggering anxiety was probably something else that should be avoided right now. Get it together, Dai. Next thing you know, they’ll be asking you a question and you won’t be paying atten-...

“-…Daichi-kun?”

Fuck.

The look on his face betrayed the sudden tanking feeling he felt in his stomach when he slid his cool gaze to Mitsuri; who was looking at him rather expectantly. He had absolutely no idea what she’d said.

Double fuck.

A sharp, pointed chuckle broke the almost awkward silence.

“You’ll have to forgive our Dai. His mind is always filled with music so he spaces out a lot. I know it seems mysterious but he’s probably just composing something in his head right now!”

'Nice save, Ryu. I owe you one,’ the praise rang in his head as a relieved sigh rushed from slightly parted lips.

“Oh, that’s right! Daichi-kun, you do compose and produce a lot of WISH's tracks, right?”

“Ryu likes to exaggerate about me but yeah, with help from everyone else, I have produced several of our tracks.” Just keep talking about the music, Daichi. Don’t think of anything else.

“It’s not an exaggeration,” Inari added, continuing to boast about him. “Before we got scouted by MUSE, Dai did all of our producing and publishing. Our entire first EP and all our singles. We wouldn’t have gotten noticed without him!”

Said blonde male lifted a hand to brush his bangs from his face in a feigned act of modesty, looking away from the host for a moment and clearing his throat.

“It’s not that big of a deal. It was really all our hard work that got us here. I’m just good at the technical stuff.”

“That’s really amazing, Daichi! So bringing it back to Mitsuri’s initial question, who’s your greatest motivation when it comes to music? We know you’re classically trained and have a residency at the Kyoto Philharmonic and a member of WISH. What drives your passion for music so much?” Kenta K’s eyes flashed with curiosity and playfulness as if he hadn’t asked a potentially loaded question.

Which it definitely was when it came to Daichi.

He shifted in his seat, feeling extremely uncomfortable at the palpable silence that filled the vast television studio. His heart slammed against his ribcage as he quickly collected his composure when flashes of his Dad’s face slashed in his vision. He didn’t know if it was his hesitancy to answer or what but it felt like everyone in the room was staring at him expectantly. Luckily, he’d practiced an answer that didn’t give away too many personal details.

“Well, that’d mostly be these guys. When we met, I was in a pretty bad place when it came to music,” Good, his voice didn’t sound shaky. “I kinda just played because I was good at it. But then in my last year of elementary, I met Ryu who was desperately trying to get people to join the “Rock Band Club”

“Aww, come on Dai! Don’t tell them about that!”

“Hey, I didn’t ask the question.”

A groan and the sound of a hand slapping against skin. Probably a face.

“So anyway, I don’t know why I joined. But I did. And long story short, we all had a pipe dream. Theirs was to become a world-class group of musicians and mine was to make sure theirs came true. At least that’s what it started as.” He felt his body relaxing in his seat again, clearing captivating the hosts, the audience, and even most of the stars of the program with his heartfelt tale.

“Now I’m probably the one that pushes us all the hardest when it comes to goals.”

“When he’s not napping or daydreaming,” Kirra adds.

“Or off winning violin competitions,” Minato snorts.

“Oi guys. Don’t embarrass me. We’re on national television.”

Laughter erupted in the studio, washing Daichi in a satisfied sense of accomplishment. Persona maintained. Question answered. Blunder managed.

“Awesome! It’s obvious that you guys are close and we love to see that don’t we?” Mitsuri prompts the audience’s response which is a surge of clapping and cheers, “and now we know the stoic, mysterious Daichi-kun has a sweet side!”

“Promise you guys won’t tell anyone,” he adds for a bit more humor.

“*chuckle* We can’t make any promises!”

The rest of the program went just like that. Kenta K and Mitsuri asking a plethora of questions, both trivial and probing. Most of it goes well, especially when they take breaks in between questions to do little challenges and games. Their rivalry is tested and lightened as the two bands pull laughter from the crowd and each other. They’re working hard at it, just as Rinko-san requested and it appears to be going well for them.

As the Idol Watch neared the final—and most anticipated—performance segment Daichi was given one final question.

“So the last question of the night is for WISH’s Daichi,” Kenta K starts. “In light of the perceived rivalry between your two bands and in order to quell some of those rumors (if you can), what is one thing you admire about SNOW?”

Ick. He’d hoped he didn’t get this question. Mostly because he had a genuine answer that he just absolutely would not admit to. That their musicality was pretty great. Augmented by a truly unique voi-…

“I think that SNOW’s lyrical prowess is something to be admired. They always find unexpected ways to word something or make an ordinary phrase musical. Also..-,” he paused, taking a moment to look at the small red-head that was seated directly in front of him. “I think Nami-san is a really talented bassist. I’d like to see what she can do on a contrabass one day.”

Said SNOW member craned her neck around to look at Daichi, giving him an incredulous look with a light pink blush on her face. She offered him a sly smile and a chuckle before turning back around and nodding.

“Challenge accepted, Daichi.”

Just as every other interaction between the two groups riled up the crowd, this one was no different. The nearly jittering audience was just about hoping from their seats in anticipation for the performances.

“All right! You saw it here folks! SNOW and WISH: Rivals or comrades? You decide!” Mitsuri exclaimed.

“But not before you grab hold of your seats and get geared up for the performances of SNOW’s “Butterfly” and WISH’s “Elements”, next on Idol Watch!” Kenta K said in a flash of movement. The directors counted him off for the break and he relaxed, looking back at both groups with a satisfied smile.

“Awesome show, you guys. I think this’ll be one of our highest rated yet.”

“Yeah! For sure,” Mitsuri added, placing a hand on her sharply hip. “We can’t wait to hear you guys perform. That’ll set the ratings off for sure.”

A plain faced man approached the chatting group of celebrities with a voice of authority, grabbing their attention instantly.

“Alright, we’re back on in 7 minutes. SNOW, you’re up first. WISH, we’ll be moving you to the gallery area there,” he pointed without looking up from his clipboard. “so you’ll still be visible during the performance, bear that in mi—oi, I need the stagehands moving faster to set this up!—mind. After SNOW’s performance we’ll have another short break and then it’ll be you all’s turn, everyone clear?”

“Clear,” was the resounding response from everyone on stage.

“Right. Kenta, Mitsuri. Go get freshened up and then meet back on your marks.”

Lots of hustling and quick-paced steps followed. Daichi and the rest of the members of WISH were rushed to the gallery, all the while being poked, prodded and fixed. A particularly interesting looking make-up artist added more powder to Daichi’s face with a look he couldn’t quite place….disdain? Disgust? Annoyance?

Whatever.

He wasn’t really interested in whatever that guy’s problem was. The only thing he was interested in at the moment was his sickeningly high level of anticipation towards SNOW’s performance. He’d-…maybe listened to their album a few times for research purposes and “Butterfly” was one of his fav-..one of the most interesting tracks. He was more than curious about what it would sound like live. If the melody was still as smooth and if Furwari’s voice still sounded as nic-…

He shifted in the equally uncomfortable stool he sat on in the gallery area. These guys really needed to invest in more comfortable seats for their guests. Daichi clenched his hands at his knees, feeling sweat collect in his palm, making it clammy. He gulped again, mentally kicking himself for being so bound up with nerves over this performance that wasn’t even his own.

He could hear his bandmates whispering to each other, trying to include him in a conversation he didn’t have the focus to contribute to when the producer sounded for final checks and everyone’s scurrying multiplied by 10.

“We’re almost back. Minute till’ live!”

1 minute.

He could see Nami adjusting her bass and securing the strap to her neck before turning and giving her bandmates a wide-toothed grin.

45 seconds.

Wataru pressed his fingers on a few chords, silently giving them a thumbs up.

30 seconds.

Okita hopped around his mark, strumming his dormant guitar with an over exaggerated fervor. He was so hyped up that it was almost comical.

15 seconds.

And then there was Fuwari. His posture was relaxed as he looked behind him, probably giving his bandmates encouraging words as the front man should. He gripped the mic with a sureness that made the hair on the back of Dai’s neck stand up. He looked more than confident.

'Cocky,’ Dai thought halfheartedly. The insult sounded half-assed even in his own head.

10 seconds. 9…8…7…

The quartet drew in for a few seconds, bumping each other’s fists before settling back at their marks. Fuwari turned fully away, facing the audience’s already deafening calls.

5…4…3…

Screaming fans were pressed as close as the bulky security personnel allowed. Dai could make out several signs with the band member’s names on them. An overwhelming amount of them read “Shino”.

2…1…Live.

The producer gave the final motion that the show had gone live again. Kenta K and Mitsuri’s voices cut through the commotion only for a few additional seconds, introducing the group and moving off to the side of the stage with faces alight with excitement.

And then, as the breath that Dai didn’t know he’d been holding released, the first chord sounded on Wataru's keyboard.

[kyotohub-ktv]

金貨 | The Idol Watch

Throb.

There it is. The ache that's always there at the beginning of a performance. Rinko jokes, calls it his on-switch and insists that every performer has a small nervous tick that faithfully sounds off like clockwork at the inception of a set.

And it's just for a few precious seconds, there and gone before he can grasp hold of what it means or why it happens. It flashes like super-charged lightning across every inch of grey matter and ignites him just the same. Melts the ice in an instant in favor of epic rays of eclipsing sunshine that illuminates misplaced pieces of self that Daichi isn't even consciously aware of anymore.

But still, it takes him places.

Hazy seascapes filled with salty winds and mochi ice cream. Hushed laughter late at night over movies that he had no business watching. Crudely crafted bits of string that signified iron-clad promises; holding such tremendous weight that he couldn't have begun to understand what they would mean at the time.

So vivid, so familiar but veiled in ethereal mist that lent to the feeling of deja vu; casting doubt and keeping clarity just slightly out of reach.

It's the only time he feels such authenticity. Freedom from the muddled mess of patchwork behaviors and contrived thought processes he battles with daily. He no longer just exists as a tattered amalgamation of what once was. He is.

He is his love for music. He is his father's sunshine. He is Daichi.

That entity engulfs him on stage. It breaks free and takes control without conscious effort. Its movements are fluid and swift, virtuous fingers hitting all the right cues and notes and slides without a shred of effort. It loosens every wound up coil, softening his face and posture in such an inviting display. It elevates him to euphoria, levels of feeling he can't achieve outside of burning stage lights and amped up crowds.

As quickly as it comes-- synchronizing with the ebbs and flows of the final lyrical crescendo--it abandons; instantaneously fleeting. Like a junkie hitting withdrawal, the chill of reality settles back into Daichi's frame from head to toe.

His face hardens again, losing its levity and eclipsing the sun once more. At one point in his life, when he was still put together enough to notice the change, it was jarring.

They called in post-performance anxiety, deep-set worry about how it went and if he was the best he could be; but a handful of unsuccessful prescriptions later, they all decided it was best to call it another tick. A slightly disheartened mood after a stellar showing on stage.

As the last bits of inebriation fall to oblivion, he holds his now faux-enthusiasm together for the final congratulatory flourishes. The bows, the huddle, the applause. It always truly begins to rear its head as they strike the stage.

When he's gathering the precious bits of equipment that don't quite hold as much value as they did before the performance started.

When producers and like are crowding up to him, asking questions and offering what he can only discern as hollow praise because god, I just don't fucking care.

When his bandmates are a few feet away from him, hugging and fist-bumping and loving each other but giving him the space he needs because they know not to poke the bear.

All of which exacerbates the icy tide that's churning in his gut. Even more so when he sees the members of SNOW playfully bantering and getting along as they shuffle out the door of the studio and towards the wrap party being held immediately after the broadcast.

What's wrong with you? His beast laments, completely dwarfing any and every shred of positive left in his pathetic brain. Why can't you just get on like those guys?

"Hey Dai," a small voice sounds beside him, drawing his crystalline gaze from the depths of nowhere to focus on her cautious expression. Rinko's hand rests gently on his forearm, a tentative gesture. "It's time to head to the wrap party. Everyone else has already gone. Do you want to take a walk with me before we make an appearance?"

See? Even your people are wary of you. Which is true. This isn't new behavior. Usually, he skips these overly social events altogether because it's what's best for everyone. Rinko sets him up with a car service and he heads home to sleep or write or something. Then she cuts appearances short, rushing back to spend the night under him so he gets a least a little bit of relief from the absolute storm of non-emotion in his head.

This time is different though. He has to attend, everyone does. Agency's orders.

Oh, how Daichi hates to be a burden. And the longer he looks at the expression of concern on Rinko's face that is morphing to uncannily resemble pity, the harder his stomach churns. What a fucking task it must be to keep up with someone that has such capricious moods like he does.

The only reason they put up with you is because you can kinda play music. Of course, he knows that. If WISH could find someone more agreeable that could do what Daichi did, they'd kick him to the curb in a heartbeat. And he couldn't begin to blame them if they did. No one ever wants me around for long.

It was all he could do not to sprint out of the building at that very moment. But for the sake of everyone else's hard work and the fact that there was at least one small live part of his slowly dying heart that beat for the people in his life, he steeled his harrowing psyche, loosely bottling it all up in order to offer a small forced smile and mutter:

"No, I'm fine. Let's not keep them waiting."

"You sure?"

A well-placed kiss on the top of the worrying woman's head.

"Of course. Shall we?"

He extends his arm to her, masking how stiff it felt with slight momentum forward. In typical fashion, Rinko's face lights up and she skips forward a bit to take hold of his offering.

The walk the party is short but filled with valuable from his manager/lover that falls on completely deaf ears. Daichi is too concerned with keeping the overflowing wellspring of negativity bottled up inside as tightly as his concerningly loose grip will allow. Really, it wouldn't take much for him to come uncorked; he'd been on edge most of the night anyway, even before the post-performance monster reared its ugly, yet familiar head.

The best thing for him to do was to pick a corner, sip a bit of champagne and keep his lips tightly sealed for the remainder of the night. And avoid all the members of SNOW, especially Fuwari.

Just that small thought of the singer's name challenges the seal to his bottled emotions. So he reaffirms his internal sentiment, approaching the closed ballroom doors to allow Rinko to field the proper security check and clearance with the KTV staff stationed there.

As they push open the doors the ballroom, onslaught with cameras and questions and too fucking much, Daichi makes out one last tidbit of advice from Rinko laced with a plea:

"Even if you ignored everything I just said, just try not to start anything while we're here. For me, Dai."

"I'll try." comes out terse and ingenunie but it's all he can offer in return.

[kyotohub-ktv]

金貨 | The Idol Watch

Kenta K: ‘Guess what folks? It’s finally the 2nd Friday! That means your favorite monthly program: KTalent’s Monthly Newcomer Showcase is coming to you live at 8pm tonight featuring the much talked about and highly anticipated up-and-coming music rivals: SNOW and WISH from MUSE Talent Agency!’

Mitsuri: 'This broadcast is sure to be one of the most popular this year, so make sure you tune in, turn on, and get ready for history!’

"Rinko, explain to us again how you organized this shit show?”

“Dai! Watch your mouth! You need to be more respectful and thankful that we’re even being given this opportunity! I’m sorry about him again, Rinko-san!”

“I’m used to it by now, Kirra-chan. He’s just determined to be as moody as possible at all times.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining about my mood la-..”

“Daichi!”

Before Dai’s pointed (but slightly rude) comment, the room had been filled with silent tension. It had been making him uneasy because in all the years he’d known these 4, they’d never been quite for more than a few seconds combined. Even before live shows with tens of thousands of screaming fans and performances for the label heads he was always the one to nearly have to beg them to shut up so they could concentrate. They were all clearly very nervous about having to go on the Newcomers Showcase. It was a program that could make or break a group as they’d seen after staying up hours and hours doing research on YouTube.

And if the pressure to make a good impression on the eclectic hosts Kenta K and Mitsuri weren’t enough, they had to share the stage with SNOW. Their rivals, however much WISH couldn’t stand them, were already overwhelmingly popular. Several of the forums that they’d absurdly read—that they absolutely should not have read—had slews of comments asking who they were and why it wasn’t just SNOW on the program since they were who everyone wanted to see. Granted, there were comments to the opposite effect as well but it was hard to pay attention to the positive when you paired it with pressure.

Daichi wasn’t good with comforting others or offering words of overt encouragement but he was good at shaking up Kirra, making Ryu sigh, and getting a laugh or two out of Inari and Minato with his offhanded comments. So that’s what he did. At least to get them talking again.

“Hey, hey guys. I agree. Dai perk up, will ya? This is an exclusive op we need to take advantage of,” Ryuuchi finally chimed in, offering the bickering trio a tight smile. "Even if we have to share the limelight with-...with SNOW for a little while.”

“Rinko-san, how did you grab us this gig by the way?” Inari piped up, gaze still trained on the Fender he was restringing. “I mean we aren’t complaining but the Showcase is a legend among the up and coming. We’ve only been out for what…6 months? It’s a little early for us to be featured.”

“I second that. Everyone at school was hounding us for days when they found out.” Minato resettled in his seat on the plush couch, hands rapidly tapping on his knees in an equally musical and nervous sort of tick.

“Well, first of all, I think you guys underestimate how popular you are,” Rinko moved to stand in front of the quintet, looking over the young stars with a heartfelt shake of her head. It was amazing how focused they could be on topping the charts but then never pay attention to when they actually did it, “You guys’ singles have been topping the charts in several categories for weeks. Not just in Japan either, all over the place.”

Their manager, Sasahara Rinko, was a short, shapely 29-year-old woman that looked 18 most days. She had long, chestnut brown hair that fell to her mid back and framed her body in an almost artificial way. She was always laughing, loved sweets and couldn’t cook for shit. As a senior managing consultant for MUSE Entertainment Agency, Rinko had specially requested to manage WISH exclusively when he heard their demo tape a year ago. She came and plucked them from their meager town outside Tokyo, took them into her own home in Kyoto City and set them on their path to begin reaching for their dreams.

She pushed the weight of her thick brown curls behind her, tucking a bit behind her ear as she continued speaking in an encouraging tone. “And on top of that, you guys have produced an insane amount of music and performances in the short months since you’ve debut. I’m pretty sure releasing an album in less than half a year of being out is some sort of record.”

Though they’d never admit it, the members of WISH were always concerned about being eclipsed. That’s why they gunned so hard for SNOW, the current #1 band at MUSE and their only true (perceived) rivals on the current music charts. Rinko did have to admit that both group’s sounds were similar in places but the overall feel of the groups was where their fans divided. And in all honesty, there was a growing fanbase that were equal fans of both groups…which was the group she and her colleagues wanted to nurture. Which was why-…

“The execs sat down and decided that they wanted both you and SNOW featured on the show this month. It wasn’t something I had to push for. If anything it was sat on my lap,” she clapped her hands together as that statement visibly perked up the previously melancholy group of musicians. “It’s what you guys are doing. People are seeing it. More than just me or your fans. The label sees your potential too!”

Moments like this were so critical. She needed to pile on the encouragement in order to get their confidence back up before they went out on this show. This "very widely viewed and highly important for their upcoming career" show. If they couldn’t hold their own against SNOW then their rise to fame might be in jeopardy. There were several angles she and SNOW’s manager could work if the program worked out like they’d planned. But that depended on the actions of the two groups.

“So even though I’ve told you and I will tell you again, you need to get along with SNOW for the sake of the camera,” she narrowed her eyes, giving her 5 charges a moment to realize how serious she was, “Don’t you let them roll over you. Make sure you show them why you’re worthy to be called rivals.”

If it was even possible, Daichi felt the mood in the room physically swell. He cast a sideways glance to the rest of the members of WISH as saw determined smiles dashed across each of their faces. They’re back, he thought with a familiar fondness.

“You’re so right, Rinko-san.”

“Hell yeah, we can’t sit around here moping!”

“We’re WISH, damn it. Who cares if another group is here?”

Dai pushed up from his relaxed position on the wall, uncrossing his arm and walking towards his now too-loud group of bandmates. He nestled in the group near Rinko, pressing a hand to the small of her back in a gesture of thanks. She looked up at him with a toothy grin before nodding for him to join in the impending “hands-in-a-circle” ritual that Ryu had started when they first started the band.

He took a few steps forward, tossing his hand into the mix as Ryu went on and on with a newly revitalized vigor about charts and records and awards.

“So let’s pick up our damn faces off the floor guys. And make they wish they were WISH!”

4 groans and a few fond chuckles bounced between the huddle before a sharp knock at the door and a quick announcement from one of the show’s producers alerted them that it was only 15 minutes till showtime. They broke off and started putting the final touches on their appearances, more alive than he’d ever seen any of them.

It almost made Dai laugh. Seeing how different they were from just 5 minutes before. These guys never ceased to amuse him. And now, they were ready to take on not just SNOW. But the whole damn world.

Ryu and Rinko headed up the group as they left the staging room in a comfortable silence, following behind the producer that had come to fetch them. He lead them to the right wing of the stage, telling them to wait here for their cue before rushing off to attend to some other form of urgent business.

Dai stood at the rear of the group, watching their excited tittering and sushing them occasionally. He propped up against the side of a brown folding table, crossing his arms and looking out onto the stage as the two hosts began their intro. Rinko silently made her way to him, pressing her body close to his as she leaned on the table beside him. She bumped against his shoulder lightly which made him look down at her with a quirk of his brow.

“You always know exactly what to say to pep them up, Dai,” her gaze was trained on his bandmates who were all huddled together, probably practicing their answers for the Q&A session. “Even if it’s the totally wrong way to say it.”

“Well, being an ass is my specialty.”

“Yeah, or at least that’s what you’d like everyone to think,” Rinko offered knowingly. Daichi shifted his emerald gaze with her body as she moved to in front of his, lazily and unnecessarily fixing the lapel on his dark blue blazer. He parted his legs to allow her to get a bit closer, feeling a small smirk come to his lips at the action. “At least try to be charming while you’re on camera. Don’t disappoint your fan club.”

“I don’t particularly care about what my fan club thinks but…-“ He reached a hand up to brush the woman’s hair from her face in an intimate gesture that was thankfully missed by his chattering bandmates. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

Rinko lifted her head to meet with Daichi’s gaze as a small flush crept its way up her cheeks. Glad that no one could see what she was doing at that moment, she leaned her face towards the younger boy’s hand, moving her lips to peck at the inner part of his palm.

However, had she taken a moment to shift her gaze to the other side of the stage, where SNOW was clamoring to stand a few minutes behind schedule, she might have seen that the gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed. In fact, the entire intimate scene had been witnessed by none other than the lead singer of SNOW, Fuwari Shinobu; image constantly blazed in his mind as the roaring of the crowd welcomed the two groups out on stage.