Lessons From a Rock Star
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Wataru Watanabe and Shonen Champion. I don't own them; I just examine all their possibilities.
Author's Note: This was a plotbunny that just kept getting bigger. Let's just say I am a huge rock/metal fan and this had to be written. I am going to be taking liberties with characterization like crazy, but hopefully it sounds semi-believable.
Warning: brief mention of blood.
It was a nice, relaxing café; small enough without being cramped, enough of a diverse crowd to not feel like he was intruding anywhere. Hearing all the conversations around him in English was somewhat jarring; just yesterday he was hearing nothing but Japanese, now he was in another place entirely. Imaizumi was passably fluent, though it had been a while since he had been in an English-speaking country.
He peeked out the big picture window to see people bundled up against the cold and walking over snowy sidewalks. A double-decker bus passed in front of old buildings and a flagpole bearing the Union Jack, the letters "London Tours" emblazoned on the side.
The last time Imaizumi had been to London he was in junior high and saw the world mostly from the back of a car. His family did all the tourist things, though he and his sister were just dragged by the hand from place to place. This was the first time he had ever been able to experience the city as an adult. Unfortunately he was only going to have a day to really enjoy himself here, though he did have an excellent guide for a few hours.
Imaizumi took another bite of his fancy ham and cheddar sandwich, glancing across the table and seeing Makishima-san stirring the sausage in his soup with a spoon. They weren't chatting much right now; of course Makishima didn't do small talk, but there had been plenty of interesting conversation already.
Imaizumi had just seen Makishima-san a couple months ago. Makishima wasn't able to cheer them on at the Inter-High this year, something he said he deeply regretted. Imaizumi, Naruko, and Onoda were all third-years; this was their last Inter-High, though Makishima had some important work to do that weekend. He did make to up to all of them and paid a visit to Japan just to spend some time with his former team, especially his trio of juniors.
That was in October, now it was a few days after Christmas. School had gotten out for the two-week New Year's vacation. In truth Imaizumi would rather be back home and getting some stuff done. He was in the thick of university preparations, though above all he would rather spend the break closer to his friends. He wanted to savor every moment with his friends before time ticked down to graduation.
Instead he hopped a plane to London as soon as school got out. Dad had been over there for a week taking part in some trade summit; his parents thought it was a good opportunity for one big family vacation in Europe. Like the dutiful son he was, Imaizumi landed at Heathrow with mom and Miyu last night; his aunt, uncle, and two cousins were arriving sometime this evening. He had just a day to himself in London before this whole grand event started.
There was one bright spot to being in London. If he couldn't spend time with his teammates in Japan, he could certainly had one over here. Imaizumi emailed Makishima as soon as he heard about this short stopover, though he didn't know if he would be too busy or just not interested in hanging out. He received a positive response back: "I'm free all afternoon, call me when you get here."
Just a couple hours ago Makishima was showing Imaizumi around the campus of his university, they even ran into a few of his classmates. He introduced Imaizumi to his peers, "Our other team ace," Makishima quipped. Imaizumi's cheeks got a little hot on this introduction. It was almost weird how they seemed fascinated by him, "Yusuke's friend from Japan."
Makishima-san somehow seemed like a different person here. It was bizarre seeing him look so comfortable and chatting so easily with a group of people: bizarre but certainly uplifting. Most of his peers referred to him as Yusuke, which was a little interesting. It was another cultural shift; English-speaking countries preferred using given names, though maybe this was another sign of how comfortable Makishima was here.
Just a minute ago Makishima had opened up his sketchbook, giving Imaizumi a peek into some designs he was working on at his brother's company. They were his usual unique style of course, but now they came with descriptions of fabrics and patterns. It was an interesting look into the fashion business.
Imaizumi couldn't recall a time before he had bonded this much with Makishima-san. Before it had been a few passing words apart from the rest of the team. Sometimes Makishima would pull him aside to advise him on a few things Kinjou hadn't noticed or to give him some climbing tips. Now it felt they were meeting as peers and not senior to junior; it was refreshing.
They were enjoying a small lunch before both of them had to get back to their respective schedules. By now they just focused on their food and there was little chitchat. Makishima poured himself another cup of tea and added plenty of honey and lemon to it, somehow Imaizumi figured he was fighting off a cold. A couple drops spilled onto the front of his oversized, black and white checked sweater; he sighed and wiped them off with a napkin.
"So what time is the rest of your family getting to London?" Makishima asked, breaking the silence at last.
It did sound comforting to hear someone speaking Japanese right now.
"A couple hours maybe," Imaizumi replied, taking a sip of his tea. "Last I checked their flights were on time."
"And then you all are leaving tomorrow morning?"
"First train to Paris, bright and early," Imaizumi replied with the hint of a groan.
Makishima gave one of his characteristic half-smirks.
"You sound happy about that," he said, breaking off a piece of buttered bread and dipping it into his soup.
Imaizumi shrugged and bit into his sandwich.
"Don't get me wrong, I don't mind spending time with my family," he replied. "But cooped up in trains and hotel rooms with them is only going to get messy."
"It's a family vacation, those always end up messy somehow."
"I already predict mom and dad will pretend no one else exists, my sister will whine a lot, my aunt will gossip about her customers, and my uncle will ask me if I have a girlfriend yet: something he's been asking me since junior high. My cousins are okay though, a little overwhelming but okay."
"Sounds about right. On the bright side you're going to be going through some pretty places. Have you been through the rest of Europe before?"
"A long time ago, we went to Paris when I was in elementary school, Switzerland right before high school. Mom and dad just wanted to do one last family hurrah before little Shunsuke goes to university. I know I should count my blessings through, you should have seen the looks on Naruko and Onoda's faces when I told them about this trip."
Makishima blew on his tea and snickered.
"I know that feeling," he replied.
Imaizumi nodded in response.
That was one thing they had in common that both were a little uncomfortable talking about. Both of their families were well off; things that were normal for them were completely alien to everyone else. Imaizumi still didn't know what Makishima's dad did for a living; Makishima didn't like to talk about himself let alone about the rest of his family. Tadokoro-san said once that Makishima's parents traveled a lot for his dad's work and were rarely ever home but that was all he heard. Imaizumi had no interest in prying and didn't ask any more.
"Make sure to bring back a few gifts, I don't think either of them will be picky," Makishima added.
"I certainly plan to," Imaizumi replied with a small smile.
"So what cities are you going through again?"
"Paris, Zurich, Vienna, then back, maybe a stop in Munich."
"I guess just try to have fun and get away from the family as much as you can."
"I am going to try to enjoy myself. After all this is the first time I've even been through London by myself. The last time I was a first-year in junior high and my mom was practically dragging us around. Now I'm actually traveling like an adult, it's so much nicer."
"Except I've been the one who's been dragging you around," Makishima chuckled.
"And I've enjoyed it this whole time, you're a great guide," Imaizumi replied with a smile.
They talked a little about university. When Makishima visited a couple months ago, Imaizumi learned that he had been scouted in high school by a few places. Regardless he had already made arrangements to come to England; he already had a dream job lined up with his brother. It was a talk that Imaizumi filed away in his mind with every other conversation about university he had with Kinjou and Teshima. He hoped his former senpai would inspire some revelations, instead he just felt more confused.
"I'll be honest I envy anyone who knows exactly what they want to do by third year," Imaizumi said at last. "My mind blanks every time I look at those letters."
"You don't have to have it all figured out, most don't," Makishima replied. "Look at Tadokoro, culinary school was not in his plans at all when he was a third-year, but he's pretty happy where he is now. Worse comes to worse you can just choose something to get your credits, then you can decide. Or you could take a year off at some point, travel without your family. I'm sure so many pro teams would pick you up in a heartbeat. You've got options."
Imaizumi took another bite of his sandwich and nodded. There was one thing that had crossed his mind, but it just sounded too ridiculous to say it. A couple minutes later he got a text message; he answered it and sighed.
"Dad's picking the rest of them up from the airport," Imaizumi said. "After we're done I should probably get going."
"You do what you have to," Makishima replied.
Within half an hour they both had finished their lunches, Makishima paid for both of them. Soon they were out of the building and back out in the cold. Makishima fastened the top buttons of his wool coat and pulled his ponytail free from the garment, Imaizumi zipped up his own jacket over his white scarf.
"Have a good vacation, try not to let them drive you crazy," Makishima said.
Imaizumi nodded, then he and Makishima shook hands.
"Thank you for your hospitality today, Makishima-san," Imaizumi said. "I really enjoyed spending time with you."
"It was great seeing you too, Imaizumi-kun," Makishima replied. "Take care of yourself and good luck with everything."
Soon they parted and walked down opposite streets. Imaizumi didn't plan to get back to the hotel right away; he was going to do a little more walking around while he still had some free time. It was best to savor every peaceful second, who knew what he was going to walk into later.
Imaizumi felt like his fate was being decided, though another part of him was a little eager to see what these two were coming up with.
He sat in a chair with his feet on the floor and hands resting on his knees. On the couch across from him Eiko and Eiji paged through a laptop; they weren't saying any specifics, only a few vague yeses, no's, or "maybe that one."
Being in the company of his cousins was always an adventure. They were 20-year-old fraternal twins who were way too much alike in many ways; both liked things loud, fast, and weird. Tonight Eiji was in jeans and a worn t-shirt that exposed the various tattoos that ran up both arms. His red goatee was an interesting contrast to his long black hair. Eiko was in one of her more conservative velour dresses with billowing black lace around the collar and sleeves. Her short, choppy hair was pink now; last time Shunsuke saw her it was blue.
Both of them went to different universities around Kobe and Imaizumi rarely saw them except on family gatherings like this. Whenever they were all together it became a big game to test Shunsuke's comfort level and bravery. It started when they were kids and got progressively more daring the older they got. They got him to try toasted cockroaches at that restaurant in Hokkaido then it was cliff diving during their vacation in Hawaii. Last year they brought him to an extreme circus sideshow in Tokyo, Imaizumi had a hard time looking at nails for a few weeks afterward.
It was about 8 o'clock at night; their half of the family napped off their jetlag, but Imaizumi couldn't imagine they would be up for anything too stressful tonight. That was his hope but he knew how this would actually go. He knew how it would go, but deep down he knew he would probably end up enjoying whatever they did pick. His logical mind pleaded against it, but he was quietly okay with putting his fate in their hands.
He knew he was more easily pulled into things than he liked to admit. He still couldn't tell anyone else he checked out different anime titles after Onoda persisted. He once scoffed at really hot foods, but thanks to Naruko he was sneaking in a little more pepper sauce and wasabi onto some things.
"Cuz, you're eighteen right?" Eiji asked.
"Yeah, I am," Imaizumi replied hesitantly.
"That opens our options," Eiko said, typing in something else into the laptop.
Imaizumi didn't know if he liked the sound of that. The drinking age in England was eighteen; maybe they had pub hopping in mind. He would be a boring companion; the only drinking he had ever done was a glass of wine with holiday dinner or that one time he took a tiny sip of sake.
The two did a few more searches, then Eiko's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
"Oh yeah, this is it," she marveled. "We've got to do this."
Eiji took a look at the screen and nodded enthusiastically.
"Done, this is way too awesome," he declared.
Imaizumi didn't want to ask, he just stared at his cousins. They looked at him with their usual feral smirks that preceded the grand announcement.
"You've been to a concert before right?" Eiji asked him.
"Yeah, quite a few actually," Imaizumi replied.
"Any rock shows?"
"A few: Gackt, Miyavi. I saw an American band last year, I think it was the guy in Motley Crue."
"Sixx A.M.?" Eiko prodded.
"Yeah that was the one," Imaizumi replied. "It was a great show."
Imaizumi was getting a little more into rock. He used to be more into soundtracks and the occasional pop band, but his horizons had been expanding a little. He blamed Onoda's junior for that; Nakamura talked about rock bands like his senpai talked about anime. Imaizumi wouldn't call himself a fan; he was just more open to it.
He didn't like how Eiko and Eiji looked at each other when he said this.
"Anything outside stadiums or big music halls?" Eiji asked.
"Not really, though they've had a few band showcases at school," Imaizumi said.
They gave each other those unnerving looks again.
"I think you're ready to graduate," Eiji said.
He grabbed the top of the laptop screen and gently swiveled the computer toward Imaizumi. Imaizumi looked at the screen, his eyebrows rose and he blinked profoundly.
"Metal in Your Face Fest" the top of the webpage read next to a rough cartoon of a screaming head with a huge nose ring and spiky hair. "Five of the most brutal hours on earth. Eight bands, no survivors."
A series of band names were underneath, some a bit more colorful than the next.
"We'll probably have missed a few bands by the time we get there, but hey they usually save the best for later," Eiko said.
"You up for it, cuz?" Eiji asked.
Imaizumi just stared at the webpage in disturbed awe, but the answer to that question was a given no matter what.
Occasionally he could pick out a few words in English, but the rest was either screaming or aggressive mumbling. The chugging guitar and rapidly beating drums drowned out the rest, though this personal game of "guess that word" was interesting in it's own way. In the past hour and a half he had seen two other bands, both with similar barking vocals that barely sounded like anything in any language. The last band was a little more melodic, but nothing you could hum the tune to.
Imaizumi stayed as far back of the concert hall as he could, though he kept an eye on the front. Another person jumped on top of the crowd and was carried to the front, only to be picked up by two burly bouncers right by the stage and then practically tossed to the side, only to run back into the mix. During the last song a circle had formed of people slamming into each other.
He had heard so many horror stories and urban legends from adults about these concerts. There were so many stories about people who were trampled to death by the crowd or how hooligans will beat people up in the chaos of the aggressive music. This was the prime thought in Imaizumi's mind when he came here, though most adults tended to be prudish about these types of things.
"Just avoid the pit" was the biggest form of advice he got from his cousins when they got here. "Stay closer to the back and you'll be fine." Apparently they had been to this kinds of concerts in England an America before, he trusted their judgment. When he initially saw someone walk to the back of the room with a bloody face or torn clothes, he did question their wisdom. In these last couple hours though they did turn out to be right.
The fact there was no seating at this place was a little off-putting at first, though he found a nice little niche at the back of the crowd. He eyed a few big guys off to the side with no shirts covered in tattoos, though they left him alone. It seemed like that was the general thing; everyone minds their own business. He looked down at his plain black t-shirt and blue jeans; he wasn't visually sticking out that much but he felt he might as well be wearing a big beacon.
Imaizumi was glad they stopped at that pharmacy before getting here so he could buy earplugs. If the floor was shaking that much with the reverberation from the speakers, what would that sound do to his exposed ears?
He looked into the crowd and saw a flash of pink hair and Eiko's slight form riding on top a sea of raised hands. She had changed into a pair of leather pants and a tank top to come here. He could hear her making a sound between a scream and a cheer.
The band's set soon ended, the lead singer closed out with, "Go get fucked!" Judging by all the cheers that followed, Imaizumi wondered if that was considered a pleasant greeting in this circle. He surely wasn't going to test it.
Imaizumi sipped from his water bottle and saw Eiji walking up to him.
"You're having fun, right?" Eiji asked with a grin, raising his voice to be heard against the crowd.
"It's interesting," Imaizumi replied, forcing a smile.
"Ah, next time we visit you're going to be begging us to do this again."
"Maybe, who knows."
"Fun fact about this next band, I hear the lead singer's Japanese."
Imaizumi raised his eyebrows and nodded. Most of the Japanese rock singers he had heard were a little more melodic, though there were quite a few bark-and-scream bands too.
"That should be interesting," he replied.
"Hey I'll buy you a beer."
"Nah that's okay, maybe later."
Eiji clapped him on the shoulder and then walked to the bar.
A few minutes later all those bottles of water he had been drinking found their way to his bladder and getting a little uncomfortable. Imaizumi groaned but he knew he should have expected this. What better time was there than this break to do something about it? He walked through a few people, though realized he would need to make his way through a crowd off to the side to get to the men's room. It meant a lot of polite "Excuse me, "Pardon me" through throngs of sweaty people pounding back beers.
Finally he got to the men's room and went through the door behind a scrawny teen with purple hair and a few barbells through his nose; behind him was a dude with messy long hair in a ripped black denim vest. Imaizumi glanced back to see a patch on his vest that said "Kill 'Em All." His eyes snapped forward pretty quick.
Soon he was in the tiny bathroom, messages were scrawled all over the walls and the garbage can was overflowing. He could smell chemical air freshener, beer, and a few other unpleasant things. He lined up at one of the urinals and did his business, it wasn't the cleanest thing he had ever used but it served its purpose. Just then he heard the cheers through the concert hall and the screech of a guitar. The next band was starting; the one that apparently had a Japanese lead singer.
Imaizumi finished his business, got himself back in order, and then went to the sink to wash up. The soap container was a plastic soda bottle with a little nozzle screwed on, he took a look at it then poured out a little soap, washing his hands in the porcelain sink lined with rust stains grabbing the last scrap of paper towel left.
Right then he heard the opening vocals to the song. The lyrics were in English, but he soon recognized the moderate accent. The singer had a good command of English but he was clearly native Japanese. As Imaizumi hoped the singer had a harmonious delivery in nice middle tenor, but of course the screaming started.
Imaizumi looked to the side and saw the overused garbage bin. He walked toward it, only to smack into someone right to the side of him. He looked up, right in front of him was this tall, burly man in a Black Sabbath t-shirt with a handlebar mustache. Imaizumi looked at the guy and took a step back.
"Ah, I am so sorry," he whimpered.
"No worries, chap," the guy said with a smile before clapping him on the arm and walking off.
Imaizumi stood a little dumfounded for a second, but a smile snuck out. He tossed the paper towel on the heaping pile and walked back into the concert hall.
He was a little closer to the stage than he wanted to be, but safely enough away from the pit area to avoid getting pulled in. Imaizumi was about to return to his spot in the back of the hall, but he glanced at the stage to try to get a look at the singer. The singer was on the other side of the stage in more of a shadowy area. At first Imaizumi saw black jeans encasing slender legs, then an unbuttoned black shirt revealing a silver chain resting on his tone chest. He had long, wavy hair that looked brownish in the shadows.
Imaizumi took a few steps away, then the lead singer strutted back to the center of the stage now fully under the bright lights. Imaizumi froze and stared at him. The lead vocalist's hair was in fact bright green with streaks of red; his hair covered his face a little but Imaizumi saw some familiar pointed features.
He shook his head for a second, no there was just no way. The singer put his hand in his hair, pulling it back for a moment giving a better look of his face. Imaizumi's jaw dropped, there was no denying it now.
"Makishima-san," he gasped.
His normally reserved, tersely spoken mentor was now hopping up and down and screaming into a microphone. Soon the instrumental part took over and Makishima leaned on the mic stand, his head bobbing with the rhythm. The drums picked up and he yanked the microphone in front of him to deliver rapid lyrics with that pleasant tenor Imaizumi heard earlier. He had no idea Makishima had such a nice singing voice.
He recalled there were a few karaoke nights where Tadokoro or Onoda managed to drag Makishima in front of the microphone, of course with a lot of feet dragging and sputtering. When he finally could sing his voice was so soft, but did have a nice tone. Now Imaizumi was hearing a more developed, much bolder version of that sound. Now Makishima wasn't wilting on that stage, he was owning it. Crowd surfers went across the audience and others hopped up and down with every rhythm.
The song ended and screaming cheers went up through the audience. Makishima looked out at the crowd; his expression the usual rock and roll scowl, though Imaizumi saw the corner of his mouth quirk up a little.
"We are Rapscallion, you are all fucked!" he yelled over the microphone.
It was a sentence he never thought he would hear out of Makishima's mouth, but the crowd loved it.
Soon the guitars picked up again and Makishima launched into the next song. Imaizumi's eyes were glued to the stage the whole time. Sometimes Makishima looked down at the stage, though more often he would look right out at the audience. Imaizumi was waiting for him to make eye contact with him at any moment, though those lights onstage probably drowned out faces in front of him.
Makishima really looked like a rock star out there. The hair certainly helped, plus he already had this lanky physique commonly associated with male rockers. It was a little odd seeing him in all black, but it actually suited him.
The song ended and they went into the next tune; no more stage banter, just getting to business. It was the same for the song after. This was a good situation: Makishima was infamously awkward when it came to any small talk, Imaizumi couldn't imagine what that would be like in front of a few hundred people. It was probably best for him to look like the cool, if not angry-looking singer. No chitchat, no bull, just rock.
Imaizumi wondered if he was really uncomfortable up there. After seeing him run around a little and lean right down into the audience it was clear he was right at home. At one point he cracked one of those confident half-grins, an expression Imaizumi saw quite a bit when he was on his bike or talking about some impossible cycling challenge. Makishima said quite a few times he talked through cycling; maybe he found another activity to speak through.
At the end of one song Makishima just let his silk shirt slide off his arms and tossed it behind the drum kit. A voice cheered in the audience that sounded a lot like Eiko's. Imaizumi felt his cheeks go hot; this was just so awkward. Makishima threw a smirk in the direction of the call and then launched into the next song. His hair was wild and sweat dripped down his body, Imaizumi couldn't imagine how much energy one needed to do this; good thing Makishima was an athlete.
One scream finished off the song; the audience went wild.
"Our time is ending soon, we've got two more songs for all you beautiful freaks," Makishima announced. "This next one comes from my homeland, but there is only one language here tonight; the language of metal!"
Loud screams went up through the crowd. The band started a song Imaizumi vaguely recognized, Makishima was soon singing rapidly. It was time again to play "what's that word;" he was obviously singing in Japanese but the exact words were a bit hard to make out. How he managed to get out those lyrics that fast was mindblowing.
Imaizumi then saw Eiko's pink hair bobbing by the front of the stage, Eiji was right next to her pumping his fist and shouting with the lyrics. Makishima looked down in their direction, then crouched down and lowered his mic for Imaizumi's cousins to finish a line of the song. He put the microphone back to his mouth, his other hand giving them both high fives right before he came back on his feet. Imaizumi was awed; Eiko and Eiji just met Makishima-san only under the most bizarre circumstances.
There was no banter before the last song. By now Makishima and his bandmates were ready for the grand finale. It was a fast, aggressive tune; Makishima was whipping his hair around and screaming into the mic with this intense expression. Imaizumi took all of it in. He was tempted to record this, though it almost felt like he would be intruding even if it just stayed on his phone.
Makishima delivered the last lines, then the song ended with some final drum smashing.
"We are Rapscallion, you've been fucking awesome!" Makishima yelled.
The crowd roared, Imaizumi yelled along with them and clapped. Then the three other band members walked offstage; Makishima followed behind, flashing the devil horns to the audience right before disappearing. The noise in the hall settled to conversations and people moving around. Imaizumi still stood dumfounded, still trying to process what he just saw. He soon realized a huge smile was on his face.
They stuck around through the next couple bands, but then Imaizumi got a text from Eiko saying they were going to head out soon. Imaizumi was fine with that; he was exhausted and a bit overwhelmed, but he felt great. Not long after all three of them were out the door and into the cold night. It felt nice to breathe fresh air again.
They walked over to the corner of the building; Eiko lit a cigarette and Shunsuke pulled out the foam plugs from his ears. Soon Eiko and Eiji were looking at Shunsuke with those knowing glances.
"So what did you think?" Eiko asked with a smirk.
"It was very enlightening," Shunsuke replied. "Thanks for the experience."
"That was a great venue, next time we come to London I want to come back here," Eiji said.
"Fuck yeah, we've got to come back here," Eiko said between drags.
Suddenly a side door opened, Makishima emerged from the building in that thick wool coat Imaizumi saw earlier. Eiko and Eiji immediately saw him and walked down the short alleyway.
"Hey buddy!" Eiko shouted in Japanese.
Makishima looked up and greeted them with a wide smile.
"Oh hey!" he said back
Imaizumi stayed on the corner trying not to be seen.
"You were fucking awesome, man," Eiko gushed.
"That was seriously an amazing show, all of you kicked ass," Eiji followed.
"Thanks, that's really appreciated," Makishima replied.
They chatted a little about what they were all doing in London; the cousins said they were on vacation, Makishima just said he was studying abroad. Imaizumi just watched them; it two of his worlds were meeting, though maybe they were not so foreign to each other.
"Where are you guys from?" Makishima asked.
Both answered "Kobe" in unison, Makishima nodded.
"What about you?" Eiji asked.
Imaizumi almost hoped he would give them a fake answer.
"Chiba," Makishima replied without hesitation.
"Seriously? Our cousin's from Chiba," Eiko replied. "Hey Shunsuke!"
From his vantage point Imaizumi saw Makishima's eyes widen a little. Imaizumi sighed, hiding like this was stupid. It was best to just be up front and let Makishima-san know he was there the whole time. Imaizumi stepped out from the corner and walked down the alley. They made eye contact, Makishima's mouth dropped open.
"Imaizumi?" Makishima yelped.
"Whoa, you know each other?" Eiji said in an amazed laugh.
Imaizumi looked at Makishima to see any indication he didn't want to be identified in any way. Instead he just stared at him in awe.
"Uh, yeah, we went to high school together," Imaizumi said. It was vague enough. "He was a few years ahead of me."
The corners if Makishima's mouth slowly turned upward, then he walked forward and stretched out his hand.
"Hey, great seeing you, buddy," Makishima said in a shaky tone. "It's been a while."
"This is just so cool," Eiko gushed.
"You got some time? I'll buy you a drink," Makishima said to Imaizumi.
Makishima gave him this serious look that communicated, "We need to talk now."
"Aww I love this," Eiko said.
"Hey how about we leave you guys to catch up," Eiji said.
"Yeah you go ahead, Shunsuke we'll be back at the hotel," Eiko added.
"Awesome meeting you, hopefully we'll be hearing more from your band," Eiji called to Makishima.
"Especially from Shunsuke," Eiko snickered.
They gave each other passing greetings, then Eiko and Eiji walked off. Both waited until the others were gone before saying anything. Makishima just stared at Imaizumi.
"Did you…uh…see our set?" Makishima asked shakily, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I did," Imaizumi replied. "Honestly…that was one of the coolest things I've seen."
Makishima looked at him with a cocked eyebrow.
"So you're not going to laugh or anything?" Makishima asked.
"No, I promise. I was just amazed at what you were doing out there."
Imaizumi was sincere when he said all of this; Makishima's growing smirk showed he took it as such.
A few minutes later they walked into a tiny pub. It was relatively busy but they found space at the bar. Their coats were off, Makishima was in his black jeans but he was now wearing a long-sleeved purple t-shirt. Makishima ordered a cider, Imaizumi decided to try it; this was a special occasion as far as he was concerned.
The bartender slid their glasses on the counter and they both took one, no questions and no checking of ID's. Imaizumi and Makishima looked at each other and clinked their glasses quietly, then took a sip. Imaizumi didn't mind this that much; it was a little more rugged than wine but not that bad. Makishima took a few sips then coughed a little.
"Sorry," he said, then turned to the bartender and ordered a bottle of water.
"That must destroy your vocal chords," Imaizumi said.
Makishima gave a profound nod.
"I know someone who's studying voice coaching, she's been practicing on me so it's not as bad," Makishima replied, his voice clearly hoarse.
Imaizumi took a few more sips, trying to think of the first question to ask.
"How long have you been doing this, or just how did you get into this?" Imaizumi asked, allowing himself his incredulous tone. "I guess it goes without saying…"
"You never imagined in your wildest dreams you would be seeing me doing something like that," Makishima finished.
Imaizumi nodded. The bartender put the bottle of sparkling water in front of Makishima, he then opened it and chugged it.
"I guess I never figured you were into metal," Imaizumi said.
"Well I listen to everything, I have no set tastes," Makishima replied, putting the bottle on the bar. "I grew up with this music though. When my brother was a teenager and I was just a kid he would crank it up in his room and I would hear everything. He was especially into a lot of older Western stuff: Iron Maiden, Ozzy, Metallica. He listens to Japanese bands too, but not as often. By the time I was in junior high I was borrowing his CD's."
Imaizumi raised his brows in a little look of surprise, but he as smiling the whole time.
"Music is a big part of Ren's creative aesthetic," Makishima continued. "He loves the style; monochrome, gothic, lots of silver and studs. Of course he puts his own spin on it. He designs for a lot of musicians and so hence I'm really used to working with them."
Imaizumi wanted to ask if this accounted for the uncharacteristic color scheme, but he kept his mouth shut. That was probably a given anyway.
"Is that how you got in this band, you met them through your work?" Imaizumi asked.
Makishima snickered and took a long sip, then slowly shook his head.
"That was a whole separate story," he replied. "Those guys are also at my university, we've hung out in the same circles. Sometimes we'll be at someone's house and they will bring their gear and start playing. One night about three months ago they were playing at a pub, no one was there aside from a few other friends and myself. At one point everyone was in some state of inebriation."
"Including you?"
Makishima nervously looked to the side and gave a little nod.
"Yeah me too, I wasn't hammered I was just getting relaxed," He replied. "It was that state where you're still very much coherent but you stop caring about a lot of stuff."
"Oh this is going to be good."
"They played some of their own songs, but eventually it turned into karaoke with a live band. They played whatever popular song they knew and different people were coming on the mic and acting like rock stars for a second. The more drunk and ridiculous they were the louder the applause. At some point I'm getting pushed forward, I think someone said; 'Yusuke, you do it. You look like a rock star right now.' Of course I have the hair, I think I was wearing a black tank top or something.
"Like I said I'm tipsy right now and not caring, I just took the damn microphone, asked if they knew any Metallica, then proceed to belt out 'Enter Sandman.' I'm seeing everyone in the room just go slackjawed, then they start jumping up and own like it's a concert or something. I got right into it; I'm probably getting laughed at, I don't care, let's be goofy. The next day Craig, the guitarist, finds me and asks if I might want to sing with those guys again. My reaction is, 'Wait, what?' I'm thinking he's pulling my leg; no he's dead serious. So I kind of panicked a little and immediately refused. You know how I am."
Imaizumi nodded and took a sip of his cider.
"Then a few of my friends were prodding me to just play with them once. I thought long and hard, managed to not have a complete panic attack thinking about it, and finally said, 'Okay, I'll try this once.' We met up at a friend's house, worked out some covers we were going to do, then finally I took that microphone and tried not to drop it. Now I'm cold sober and wondering 'Oh shit, what did I just get myself into?'
"Then they went into 'Crazy Train,' I managed to calm down by the end of the opening, and just went with it. Honestly it felt amazing. I was barely standing and clutching the mic, a few songs later I was really getting into it. Soon I was hanging out with them a little more regularly, Craig and our bassist Emmett had been writing songs and we learned them, Aidan just bangs on the drums I scream on the mic. We decided we actually had a little something here, then we got a gig at this tiny pub."
"And now you're performing in front of strangers," Imaizumi said.
"And yes I was freaking out about it," Makishima replied. "I thought maybe if I treat this like playing a character it would be a lot easier. I was in a lot of leather, I had messy eyeliner on, it was like a disguise almost. I was finally ready to do this and I got out there and got right into the first song. My anxiety melted away little by little, but the crowd was cheering when I finished."
Makishima grinned as he was telling this story; he had this mirth that was infectious. It warmed Imaizumi to see him so happy.
"I can't describe to you what that was like," he continued, then paused. "No, actually I can. It was a little like being in a race; you're doing what you're doing and the spectators are cheering you on. That's the mindset I got into."
Imaizumi nodded enthusiastically, he knew exactly what he was talking about.
"After that I looked forward to the next gig," Makishima continued. "The next time we played we were getting jeered like crazy. I thought I'd want to crawl up in a ball; instead I ignored it. It was just trashtalk and I'm used to that. By now that crap doesn't bother me; it doesn't when I'm racing and it didn't onstage."
Imaizumi smiled, that struck a deep chord.
"I know you know exactly what I'm talking about," Makishima said with his own smile.
"You know what I've had to work through, so you're absolutely right," Imaizumi replied.
Makishima smiled a little wider and nodded.
"Anyway after a while I wasn't even trying to be a character nor did I care if anyone liked it or not," Makishima went on. "I was just having fun with the whole thing."
"So in a way this is kind of like cycling for you."
"Well cycling will always be my true love. I will admit though I had fallen into a bit of a routine: school, the studio, racing on the weekends. It's been like that for the past two years, I started feeling like I wasn't having fun anymore. Homesickness set in a bit, of course life gets complicated, I wasn't in the greatest place mentally. I needed something new, something to spice things up, and I found it."
"Do you think you'll go further with this? Have you recorded anything, will there be a tour, music videos, things like that?"
Makishima took a drink from his glass and shrugged.
"Highly unlikely," he said blotting his mouth with a napkin. "We've just been playing pubs and the occasional concert hall, no one can get themselves together enough to sit down and record. This is kind of a hobby thing for everyone, just the thrill of performing."
Imaizumi sipped his cider and nodded.
"So how about you, is that something you're into or did your cousins drag you there?" Makishima asked.
"Oh they dragged me there," Imaizumi replied. "As you can tell they're a little more adventurous. My aunt and uncle are much livelier than my parents, it rubbed right off on those two but they really are their own people. Whenever were in the same company the dares start."
"And you always go right along?"
Imaizumi grimaced a little but then gave an almost embarrassed nod. Makishima smirked in response.
"Yeah, maybe I'm a little more adventurous than I think I am," Imaizumi replied meekly.
"Run with it," Makishima answered, taking another sip.
Imaizumi gave him a curious look, Makishima smiled back at him.
"It's one thing I've been learning more and more," Makishima continued. "Sometimes the thing you might think is weird or scary ends up being the best thing you've ever done. I've done a lot of scary things; some turned out good, some not so much, but I learned from all of it. Just go with your instincts."
Those words hit Imaizumi hard, it was something he needed to hear right now. He considered Yusuke Makishima was a bit of an authority on the subject, just seeing how he dressed and dyed his hair to how he rode to the fact he moved all the way to England.
"I have to say you've been a bit of a role model for me on that," Imaizumi said. "You and the other guys too. But I just see all the things you've done, I mean moving all the way out here had to have been scary."
"It was terrifying," Makishima replied. "It ripped me apart to leave all of you."
Hearing him say this was a bit heavy.
"Ultimately, however, I knew it was the best thing for me. Yes it took a lot of courage, but I made the right decision."
Imaizumi crumpled his napkin. There had been something on his mind a lot that also scared him to death. Maybe it was time to give that a little more thought.
"I actually have something I've been thinking of, something pretty big," Imaizumi said.
Makishima sat up on his stool and gave Imaizumi a look of anticipation.
"What's going on?" Makishima asked.
"I've been thinking it's impossible, maybe a little ridiculous."
There was a slight pause.
"You know you can tell me these things," Makishima said.
Imaizumi sighed, then just decided to put it out there.
"I want to do the Olympics," he said at last.
Makishima's eyes widened and he grinned wide.
"Really? Imaizumi that's awesome!" Makishima beamed.
Imaizumi managed a smile, his cheeks flushing.
"I've been thinking about it since I was in junior high, one of those 'what if' things," Imaizumi continued. "I've been doing a little more research since second year; looking into coaches, training programs. I want to get in touch with a coach before I get to university. It's a ridiculous amount of work and of course I don't even know if I'd ever qualify."
"Do it, damn it Imaizumi just go for it!"
"You think I have what it takes?"
"I think you can accomplish anything with the right work and focus. You're an amazing racer and I've just seen you get better and better."
"That does mean a lot coming from you."
"What's going to matter is you believing it, that's all that matters for anyone."
Imaizumi felt a warmth building in his chest; he was smiling wide.
They finished their drinks and left the pub, both of them said it was time to be getting back. They walked onto the sidewalk; Imaizumi was getting ready to hail a cab to take him back to the hotel.
"So we part again," Imaizumi said.
"Yeah, never thought it would be after this," Makishima chuckled.
"This was a lot of fun. I'll be honest, that music really isn't my thing, but I really did think you were amazing out there. Actually it was really nice seeing that side of you."
Makishima smiled wide.
"I really appreciate that. It was great seeing you out here too."
They shook hands with warm looks. Something definitely felt different about this particular parting; it felt a bit more real.
"I do want to ask you not to mention this to anyone we know," Makishima said. "No one knows about this back in Japan, not Tadokoro, not Kinjou, certainly not Toudou. In fact I try to be a little quiet about it over here. It's not really that I'm embarrassed by it, it's more that it's something I just guard a bit."
Imaizumi nodded.
"You have my word, you're secret identity is safe with me," Imaizumi said.
Makishima nodded in satisfaction.
"Could you also not mention to anyone about the Olympics?" Imaizumi asked.
"Say no more, I won't say a word. You do and say what you need to do, but please keep me updated."
"Same with you. If you guys ever tour Japan I want tickets."
Makishima cackled.
"In the highly unlikely event that ever happens, I promise," he replied.
Imaizumi then hailed a black cab and got in the passenger seat.
"Say hi to your cousins for me, they seem pretty cool," Makishima said.
"I'll certainly tell them," Imaizumi said.
Imaizumi and Makishima gave each other a few more words of parting, then Makishima walked down the street and Imaizumi gave his location to the driver. The car pulled from the curb, Imaizumi looked in the rear window and saw Makishima walking down the street, then blend into the crowd. He faced forward again, then soon he was back at the hotel.
Imaizumi got back to the room to find Eiko and Eiji hanging out in the living area of their suite, they immediately greeted Shunsuke when he came in. Of course there were plenty of questions about his rock star friend. Imaizumi did tell them his name and that he had been his teammate in the cycling club
"He is actually a really reserved guy, this is just helping him get out of his shell more," he told them. "Could you guys maybe not mention him to too many people in Japan, he's really guarded about this."
"No it's cool, I understand," Eiji said. "People back in Japan can be kind of uptight, I get why he's just keeping it over here."
"I hope he does get a lot more comfortable," Eiko said. "He's got such a great talent, I hope he does more with it."
Imaizumi did thank his cousins for showing him a great time. Both of them beamed.
"Just think we have a whole continent to explore," Eiji declared in a dramatic voice raising a fist up.
Imaizumi smiled but sweat beaded down his back. Oh well, it was good to expand one's horizons.
By the next month Imaizumi and Makishima were actually emailing each other on occasion. Imaizumi sent a few photos from their trip across Europe, they exchanged a few stories about Switzerland. Imaizumi didn't send him the photo of him and his cousins jumping off a cold beach with a few other human polar bears, ignoring Eiko's instructions to "send that to your rock star friend."
Makishima's last email did have some sad news.
"The band fell apart to the surprise of no one. Everyone just got busy (or lazy in some cases). It wasn't a matter of if but when. Oh well RIP my career as a rock star."
Imaizumi wrote back shortly afterward: "Sorry to hear about that, I knew you were having fun with it."
"It was an experience, onto the next one I guess," Makishima replied later.
Imaizumi took another look at this email later and let this sink in. He smiled, then went back into his inbox and pulled at that email he got yesterday from the coach he contacted.
"I greatly look forward to meeting with you and starting this process," the coach wrote.
He copied the message, then pasted it onto a new email addressed to Makishima.
He wrote one sentence at the end:
"That's right, onto the next."
Author's Note: This story is the result of a ton of random influences and ideas. I personally am a massive rock/metal fan; it is a big inspiration and creative aesthetic for me. Of course when I see Makishima I immediately think I want to see that boy in rocker garb. The fact his seiyuu Showtaro Morikubo is a rock singer just added to that. The trick for me was wanting to do it in a way that was somewhat in character for him. What resulted was this story.
The concert scene is based on experiences I've had at shows around the Boston area and points north; I don't know what British shows are like but I figured I'd give Imaizumi a safe concert experience. Another big consideration was how I also have social anxiety but I love performing. I'm a mess in social situations, but I've done poetry, Shakespeare readings, and acting and it's a therapeutic thing for me personally. I wanted to reflect that with Makishima.