"Please have a seat, Shindo-san."
Seguchi was in fine form today. Shuichi could almost hear the compère as Tohma strutted down the catwalk.
And here we have a lovely outfit, ladies. Tohma's wearing a subdued Giorgio Armani suit in très chic peacock green with wide lapels, fur trimmed pockets and matching gloves.
"I'll cut right to the chase. I heard about your little tiff with Eiri-san."
Lavender turtleneck is by Tsumori Chisato.
"Normally, I wouldn't get involved. Every couple has their quarrels, but there are music sales to consider in this case."
Purple spats by Yves Saint Laurent.
"A CD to produce, an upcoming tour. And I was thinking this might be a good year to try to crack the European market."
Black hat with feather trim by Jean Paul Gaultier.
"After that, North America. It would mean billions of yen if Bad Luck could chart a top ten hit in the U.S.A. No J-pop act has ever done that before, not even Gackt."
Available at Seibu on Omotesando, Tokyo.
"Shindo-san? Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm...? Oh, sure." Shuichi came out of his reverie and focused on the boss. "Chart a hit on Omotesando Avenue. Got it, Shacho." He pointed his index fingers at Tohma like a gun, accompanied by a horse clicking sound.
Tohma rose from his seat and wandered over to the windows, rubbing his temple.
"Actually, Tohma, this is just what I wanted to talk to you about. You probably heard that Yuki and I had a fight. It's over between us for good, and I won't lie to you—you always know the truth anyway. This is killing me, and I'm a little preoccupied at the moment. But some occupational therapy would do me good, so this is a perfect time to take Bad Luck to the next level. I want to be bigger than the Beatles."
Tohma turned from the window wall and stared at Shuichi as if he were a rabid baboon. Just stared, as if he couldn't tell whether Shu was joking or not, and therefore didn't know quite how to respond. Did I say something wrong? I really do want to be bigger than the Beatles! Then Tohma laughed.
Convulsively, explosively. Drifted back over to his expensive executive chair, sat down, and laughed. Laughed with a girl's voice. Come to think of it, Tohma's normal speaking voice was like a girl's. Why hadn't Shu noticed that before? Possibly because Seguchi was so scary. Serial killers, psychopaths and sadists generally don't sound like girls. No, Yuki was all those things and he had a deep voice. Three murders and you were a serial killer, right? How many had Tohma killed? Shuichi wouldn't be surprised if it numbered in the dozens.
"Pardon me, Shindo-san..."
Much more dangerous than Yuki.
"I mean no disrespect..."
Infinitely more dangerous. So charming and kind and always smiling — exactly how Yuki had once described Kitazawa.
"While it's good to have goals, that's an objective that's not realistic at the moment."
"Huh? Why not? I'm willing to work for it. This is the perfect time to work for it. I want to throw myself into the work and forget Yuki ever existed."
"But Shindo-san, there's more to it than just work. A number of factors come into a story like that; many of which are beyond your control. Like luck. Your band isn't known as Good Luck, you know."
Tohma smiled graciously, but it wasn't one of his fake or threatening smiles. He seemed genuinely amused by Shuichi's idea.
"Chikushou! I'm serious, Tohma. But I can't do it without your backing. It'll take a lot of promotion to get that big."
"It'll take more than promotion. A whole lot more."
"I know, but I'm ready to take it to the next level."
"That's not the next level. There are at least ten levels between here and there. It's not enough to simply do something really well. You also have to do it first. The Beatles took music in a new direction, and some would say they invented a whole different kind of music—several different kinds really, some of which are still played today. There's a huge risk in developing a new kind of music. New things aren't always commercially successful."
"That's why I need you in our corner. If you like the music, then everyone else will, even if it's a little different. Aren't you getting tired of the same old sound, Tohma? Pop music in Japan hasn't changed since the eighties, and it's time to move on to something new and different...something bolder!"
"Heh. Something bolder." Tohma put his elbows on the desktop and threaded his fingers under his chin. "How bold are you willing to go, Shindo-san? For instance, are you willing to take voice lessons?"
"Voice lessons?! What's wrong with my voice?" Shuichi put his hands to his throat, as if Tohma was going to surgically alter his pipes. "I don't want to be an opera singer."
"I wouldn't want you to be. It's not as commercially viable. But voice lessons will train your voice so you can sing longer, stronger, with more feeling and with less damage to your vocal cords."
"Oh. Okay, fine. I'll take voice lessons. What else?"
"How willing are you to experiment with other instruments? The Beatles brought orchestral arrangements into rock music for the first time. If you did the same, you'd only be copying them and it wouldn't be the same. But their receptivity to different instruments and new sounds helped redefine their music so they were always fresh. They constantly gave the audience something new. You need to find your own music signature too. There are plenty of traditional Japanese instruments that could embellish and define your own unique sound, not to mention instruments from other countries. Not every instrument or sound can be replicated with synthesizers."
"That's exactly the kind of thing I want to do. Experiment. What else?"
"In line with that, are you willing to take a new member or two into the group? Experimentation might cement the need for a permanent drummer and bassist, for instance."
Okay, that one took Shuichi back a bit. It'd all but given him apoplexy just adjusting to Fujisaki. But I got there, didn't I? I finally accepted him as a member. In his mind, Shuichi swilled a full bottle of vinegar and slammed the empty bottle on the desktop. "Bring it on! I can handle it, boss." A new member or ten would probably be good for them. Sure. "No, really."
"Heh."
"I can do it! What else?"
"Okay, how willing are you to travel and expose yourself to different kinds of music from around the world? There's music everywhere, even in the deepest deserts, and until you really understand music by immersion and exposure to it in all its forms, you'll never be able to see what works and what doesn't, and create your own unique musical language."
Whoa. Who knew Tohma was this deep? Wait a minute; the Beatles didn't travel around the world like that. It's not deep. It's just Tohma making money. He likes making moolah, so he knows his job. Fine; Shuichi could play along. "I could use a good vacation. Let's go! Just let me pack my things..." Ahh, crap. He remembered now that he was already on the road living out of a hotel. Chikushou. "Come to think of it, my bags are already packed. Just send a car over to the Park Hyatt, and we can board the plane tonight. Whatta ya say?"
Tohma leaned back in his chair, still amused by Shuichi's naiveté. "I say it's going to cost you a fortune to live in that hotel for long. I have a guest room in my house. It would be silly not to put it to use until you return to Eiri-san."
"I told you, I'm not going back to him!"
"Then until you find a permanent residence of your own, then. Mika-san is visiting her father in Kyoto. They won't be back for another week."
"They?"
"Yes. Mika-san and the baby."
Oh, yeah. Shuichi had forgotten there was a baby now. What was the kid's name again?
"Shall we go?"
"Hmm...? Oh, yes." Go where? Shuichi rose from the comfy chair and followed Tohma out to the elevator. "But it's not even noon yet."
"No, but they'll probably expect you to check out before then or else charge you for another day. We'll move you right now; that'll save money."
Save money, save money. It was always about saving or making money.
Money, money...
Um...
No, wait.
Actually, no it wasn't. That wasn't it at all, was it? This was about Tohma moving him to where he could pressure Shuichi to return to Yuki. Even if he hated Shu, his brother-in-law was everything to Tohma, and he'd stoically work against his own self-interest just to make Yuki happy.
Well, fuck me with a spoon.
Tohma was going to get a nasty surprise, then. He wasn't going back, no matter what Seguchi said to him. Sorry, boss, but my guilt-o-meter won't go any higher. Yuki's a big boy, and there are no words that can affect me anymore.
Now there was the making of a hit song. On the lift, Seguchi glanced at him quizzically now and then as he worked out the lyrics.
"Going on a road trip, la la la, not a guilt trip."