Author's notes: Work has been keeping me stupidly busy, and I eventually realized that I wasn't going to build up enough of a lead to start posting my next major fic before the end of August. Not wanting to leave the month without posting something, I turned to this ready idea and churned it out in slightly less than two weeks. Explaining how SO3 Studio got started seemed an obvious story idea, and as I started writing these fun synchronicities started popping up in the studio's formation, including this story's ending. Hope you all enjoy it.
A Somewhat Pseudo-Spiritualistic Origin Story
I'll never forget the day I joined SO3 Studio.
Not that I haven't occasionally tried. For better or worse, it was too much of an electric jolt to my synapses to ever blot it out.
Life after college had proved to be an anticlimax. No matter what they all tell you – your teacher, your advisors, your parents – a college degree is not a fast ticket to a rewarding career. At least not if you're a literature major with mediocre grades. I graduated to find that everywhere you look there's an open door that slams in your face the moment they find out that you have no on-the-job experience.
After a month or so of that, I came up with a new plan: Write video game reviews for sites that take user-submitted content until I had built up enough credibility to get a job as a gaming critic.
Needless to say, I didn't tell my parents that this was my plan, and once it became apparent to them that it was, they weren't happy about it. For some months they were patient about it, quietly badgering me to apply to other jobs. I met them halfway, and even got job interviews at an average of one every eight weeks. Eventually, though, they came up with a new plan: Make life at home a living hell for me until I finally got off the couch, got a job, and stopped living in my parents' house.
This new plan was enough to get me to revise my daily schedule to the following:
10:00 Wake up.
10:00-10:30 Grunt and scratch various parts of my anatomy.
10:30-11:00 Have breakfast, brush teeth.
11:00-3:00 Play video games. Possibly break for lunch, but more commonly just snack on junk food during loading screens.
3:00-4:00 Write video game reviews.
4:00-5:00 Peruse online job listings.
5:00-6:00 Chat online.
6:00-7:00 Chew dinner in between delivering a detailed report of the day's job hunt activities under extreme duress.
8:00-8:30ish Peruse more job listings in response to stern parental dictates.
8:30ish-12:00 Play more video games as soon as the parental watch wavers.
Eventually, of course, this had to end. I honestly didn't know how, though.
Ultimately I just stumbled on the solution. I was going through the job listings when I saw one that was... different. Striking. Practically mind-blowing.
One that made me say, "Is this a joke?"
The employer name was "Save the World by Overloading it with Fun by Blowing Up the Earth 3 Times Studio". I was trying to figure out how they thought the world could be saved after they'd blown it up three times, but my eyebrow was further raised by the job description:
"We have no interest in ordinary humans. We seek a big star that will rock humanity! Come join our super-charged and cutting edge team as we hunt down talented idols and make their talent flourish and explode with fortune and happiness! Nothing can stop us. We shall rock every show and break every record! Only enthusiastic and imaginative applicants accepted."
As was now a habit for me, I checked the "experience" field for words that would clearly disqualify me from the job and save me the trouble of sending out an application. It read:
"No experience needed. Only vision and a willingness to boldly walk the very edge of what is possible!"
The pay was nothing to write home about – minimum wage plus commissions – but I was at the point where even the lowest paying job was acceptable if it got my parents out of my hair. Not that I thought I stood a good chance of getting the job, even with "no experience needed" on my side. Ultimately it was just a place to throw an application at in order to convince my parents that I was still trying.
It worked. "So what did you do on the job hunt today?"
"I found this opening working at a talent agency."
"That sounds good. When are you going to send in an application?"
"I already did."
My mom sounded nonplussed. "You must be really excited about this one, huh?"
She was probably just poking fun at my tendency to drag my feet with the job application process, but faint praise is still better than criticism.
I figured that would probably be the end of it, but a day or two later I got an e-mail:
"Don't get too excited...
"But you have been selected as one of the top candidates under consideration for a position at Save the World by Overloading it with Fun by Blowing Up the Earth 3 Times Studio (SO3 Studio for short)!
"The adventure of a lifetime may be in store for you. You have cleared the first hurdle. The next step is a personal interview with the president of the company, Haruhi Suzumiya. You will be thoroughly examined on your commitment towards finding a star that will rock humanity.
"Your interview is scheduled for Thursday at 3:00 p.m. You may not reschedule, and failure to show up will result in you no longer being considered for any position at SO3 Studio. Arriving late will result in a penalty suited to your gender, age, and intellect.
"Bring a copy of your resume and be prepared to answer the following questions: (1)What special thing can you do to further SO3 Studio's unique mission? (2)Is there anything you would not be willing to sacrifice in service to SO3 Studio? (3)Who are your top three favorite musicians of all time? (4)What are your beliefs with regard to global warming?"
After reading the entire e-mail, I went back and re-read it two times. Then I just sat there and stared. "...Okay, this is a joke, right?"
On top of the obvious issues, I still wasn't even sure of exactly what the job entailed.
On the other hand, glancing at my schedule, it wouldn't hurt to take a day off from writing video game reviews. Simply being able to tell my parents that I had gone to a job interview would make it worth it. So not being able to reschedule was not an issue. As to the questions, well, they were weird, but I could answer them. Add on the lack of necessary experience, and this was the closest I'd yet come to being a shoo-in for a job. And it was quite possible that, once I actually got a look at the place, I would want to work there. After all, it was a job searching for beautiful and talented idols. What could be the downside, really?
I printed off a copy of my resume.
SO3 Studio was on the second floor of an unassuming office complex. I knew this because the e-mail had pretty clear directions at the bottom; otherwise I would have been a bit lost, because "SO3 Studio" didn't appear on the building's directory. But it was a start-up company, right? Little things like that had to be expected.
As I approached the office, I began to hear the sound of music playing. Appropriate, I guess.
I knocked on the door but got no answer. After waiting a few seconds, I peered through the glass. There was a reception desk inside, but no one was seated at it. And now that my ears were at close proximity, I could determine that the music was indeed coming from the SO3 offices, and that it was loud enough that my knocking had as much chance of being heard as a lover's whisper at an Animal Collective concert.
The crazy thought struck me that maybe this was part of the test to determine if I was good enough to get the job. I mean, it was a crazy thought of itself, but given the sort of people that e-mail indicated I was dealing with, it was a perfectly reasonable possibility. So, I straightened my tie one last time, and tried the doorknob.
It opened.
And just like that, terrifying thoughts struck me. Had someone broken in? Had they turned up the stereo system to cover the noise of them murdering the staff and ransacking the place?
Dammit, I was already being corrupted by the weirdness of that job listing and e-mail. Nobody would want to murder the staff of a talent agency that was just starting out. To begin with, you had to be in this business for a while to get enemies, and then they'd have to be pretty dumb enemies to attack you right at your public office in broad daylight. Someone that stupid wouldn't even think to turn up the stereo.
I stopped trembling in fear at a door that someone had either carelessly or trustingly left open and unguarded, and stepped inside.
I now realized that the music, while loud, wasn't loud enough that you'd expect it to cover up murder and vandalism. Strike three against the notion that my life had just turned into a b-grade thriller, and one point for the notion that the walls in this place were pretty thin.
Other than that, it looked like a pretty typical office, apart from the fact that no one was in sight. There were a couple of nice desks near some windows that let in the sunshine and gave a view of the outdoors if you had a minute away from your work. I could see myself being reasonably content here. I needed to think positive and keep my cool, and with any luck, I'd pass the interview.
Assuming, that is, that I could find the interviewer.
I headed towards the sound of the music. Right around the corner, I saw the source.
It was a stunningly beautiful woman singing into a karaoke machine like the fate of the universe depended on it. She had on a set of bright, stylish pants that weren't too tight, but tight enough to give a teasing impression of shapely legs when she swayed and dipped to the rhythm of the music. Her tank top was much looser, but you could at least tell that the size of her breasts was impressive, and there was no overlooking the dizzying way her belly flowed with her movements. Except, that is, that her face outshone everything else, her eyes sparkling with a pure and unfading light and passion.
So, SO3 Studio already had at least one client.
"I think I'm going to like working here," I said to myself. Yeah, out loud. It wasn't like she'd be able to hear me over the music.
But she was able to see me, of course, and after a few seconds of me standing there gawking, she happened to glance in my direction. "It makes me laugh just thinking back on it, I've already forgot- Huh?" She turned and shut off the karaoke machine. I felt disappointed that I couldn't hear the rest of the song. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
"Uh... sorry, I..." It was a bit intimidating, being addressed by this idol singer, and not just because she was good-looking and could sing like a muse of fire. Her eyes, which moments before had seemed focused on her own personal dream, were now locked onto me like gunsights, scrutinizing, judging. And seemingly readying a missile for when I would say or do the wrong thing.
Somehow, though, I managed to apologize for sneaking up on her, introduce myself, and explain that I was a job applicant who was looking to interview with Haruhi Suzumiya.
"That's me," she said. "You're 20 minutes early. Penalty!"
I gave a small chuckle, not because I thought it was funny, but because women like it when you appreciate their sense of humor, and like I said, she was good-looking and could sing like a muse of fire. I didn't have a read on her personality yet, but it was better to play it safe than to risk finding out she's my soulmate after I'd already botched things.
"What are you laughing at?" she demanded.
For a moment, it was like the world was frozen. I couldn't understand the question and the look in her eyes said she wasn't going to let us move on without an answer. And I knew, somehow, that she wasn't just taking a joke too far. The woman in front of me, the one wearing a tank top and sequined pants, was the woman I was to be interviewed by.
"Oh, I get it," she said, eyes narrowing. "Another one who thinks I must be a singer or a secretary, like a pretty woman can't have brains, too."
"No, that's not it at all," I said, a little too quickly. I could have taken her to task on her assumption that singers and secretaries can't have brains, but her accusation was still too close for comfort, and after all, it wouldn't be particularly bright to argue with someone who would be making the decision to hire or not hire you. "I was just laughing at how you said you're going to penalize me for being early."
"What's so funny about that?"
Good grief. "Your e-mail said you would penalize me for being late. How am I supposed to make sure I'm not late without being a little early?"
"Are you arguing with me?"
For a second I froze up with fear, but then her expression changed. She looked more nonplussed than angry.
"Well... I guess you have a point. I can't make you pay for tea just because you were trying too hard to get here on time. Have you got your resume?"
I handed it to her. So, I missed an opportunity to have a tea date with her by not just taking the penalty. Just as well, though. There are laws against dating your boss, right?
She had taken a seat at a desk and was now reading over my resume with an increasingly bored expression. "You know..." I remarked, pulling over a chair for myself. "...people wouldn't mistake you for a singer so often if you dressed more business-like."
"Business-like?"
"You know, long pants, a collared shirt, maybe a tie..."
Her expression had reached a plateau of boredom. "Then I'd just be another dull-looking slave in the rat race, like you."
She said this without even the slightest hint of malice or conscious mockery. Maybe that's why it pissed me off enough to forget my situation and just spout off exactly what was on my mind. "Don't you think it's a little shallow to define yourself by what you wear, never mind other people? If you're nothing but a cog in a machine when you dress appropriately, then all you are when you dress like that is a cog in a machine who everyone is going to think is just a singer."
She scowled. "Who asked your opinion?"
"Fine, don't listen to reason." I leaned back and folded my arms. The hell with this. This woman might look great, but she had a few chairs missing from her kitchen. If she decided to hire me, fine. But I wasn't going to suck up to her to get her to do it.
The silence between us was stretching out uncomfortably. I glanced over and saw she was studying my face very intensely. I couldn't quite read what her deal was, but I got the sense that she wasn't just thinking over what I said. It was like she had something else on her mind entirely.
"Have we met somewhere before?" she said at last.
"Doesn't seem very probable." Major understatement. I couldn't imagine that I might have forgotten her if we had ever met. I don't just mean her lunacy, either. No matter what expression her face wore, there was a very intent look in her eyes that was pretty distinctive.
"No... not very probable," she mused, still studying my face. I was getting very uncomfortable at this. "But still, somehow I know you."
"...Um..." Very uncomfortable.
She snapped her fingers. "It must be fate! A bond from a previous life."
What? Please tell me you don't buy into that reincarnation garbage.
"Don't give me that look. Of course I don't believe that people's souls get transferred to a new person when they die. I mean, what would souls do when there aren't enough babies being conceived at the moment? But I know you from somewhere before; that's a fact."
No, that's a product of your wild imagination and some fanciful speculation.
"And if we've never met in this life, simple logic dictates that we must have met in a previous one. Maybe in a different dimension, or an alternate universe, even!"
You have now completely parted ways with reality. "Can't we just discuss the job and leave the other dimensions out of it?"
That raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? If we already know each other, that tells me a whole lot about whether or not you're suitable for the job! It almost makes the whole interview process redundant!"
Good grief. My job application is about to be accepted or rejected based on my prospective employer's imagined memories of me.
She jumped up from her chair. "Come on, let's get out of here and get some tea. This place is too stuffy for a discussion like this."
"Huh? I thought you said you weren't going to make me pay for tea?"
She managed a dismissive wave of her hand while pulling on her coat. "We'll split the check."
Once we had taken our seats and placed our orders, Suzumiya released a heavy sigh. "I tell you, interviewing job candidates has been rough."
Imagine how the candidates feel.
"I thought it would be fun, but all the candidates have been boring losers." She puffed her cheeks. "The men have been the worst. Just absolutely unendurable."
Feel free to insert "Present company excluded" into this gripe any time.
"Half of them were staring at my legs or my chest the whole interview! It was disgusting. You'd think, being the president of the company, people wouldn't look at you as just a piece of flesh."
I couldn't help but sympathize with her, but she had kind of brought it on herself. "Chalk it up as one more reason to dress more business-like," I suggested.
"Shut up." She thrust a finger in my face. "Why are you defending them, anyway? You've obviously noticed that I have eyes!"
Honestly, that's not really a point in my favor, since your face is your most attractive feature. But I guess that's the last thing she needs to hear right now. "I'm not defending them. But you can't change what other people do; you can only change what you do."
"How defeatist," she groaned. "We're going to have to work on that attitude."
"You're the one with the bad attitude." The waiter set our teas in front of us. I thanked him, and then did a double take at Suzumiya as the implications of her last statement sank in. "Wait. You mean I'm hired?"
"Of course. I wouldn't be going out for tea with you if you weren't hired, would I?"
My mind raced over the past 20 minutes, struggling in vain to think of something I said that might have triggered this obviously hard-to-please woman to hire me of all people. She hadn't even covered the four questions in the e-mail.
Fishing for an explanation, I tried: "But we haven't discussed my resume yet."
"Didn't you read the job listing? No experience is needed. Only vision and a willingness to boldly walk the very edge of what is possible. You've obviously got those qualities."
It's not obvious to me, and I'm me. ...I guess I can't say that out loud, though. "Wait, you can't just give me the job like that. I haven't decided I want it yet."
"Is that a joke? How could you not want this job?"
Good grief. "For starters, you haven't even told me exactly what the job entails. You know, what I'll be doing."
She took a gulp of tea, punctuated by a satisfied "Ahhh", before addressing my question. "Well, until we get more employees, you'll basically be doing everything I don't feel like doing."
The blunt honesty was kind of refreshing, even as it was simultaneously appalling. But the first part of her statement caught my attention even more. "You mean you haven't hired any other employees yet?"
"I just told you, the candidates have all been boring losers. SO3 Studio is for people who live for excitement!"
Right then, I felt a definite urge to run home and hide under my bed. The only thing stopping me was, turning down a job offer wouldn't appease my parents. And if the job turned out to be as bad as I feared, I could always just quit, right?
"Exactly how many people have you interviewed so far?" I asked.
"Like a hundred and twenty. I've totally lost count at this point." She didn't sound depressed by this fact. In fact, she was beaming. "Don't worry. I'll find more employees eventually. The important thing is that I'm hiring the right people."
Sure. Now if only I had some inkling of what her qualifications for "right" are. I took a sip of tea to settle my nerves.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Urrrgh, how can you just forget what you've been talking about? Have you decided you want to join SO3 Studio yet?"
I drummed my fingers on the table.
You can always just quit later. You can always just quit later.
"Sure, I guess," I answered.
"What's wrong with you? You should be more enthusiastic about this!" She thrust her face across the table, coming within a half meter of mine. "You're joining the most dynamic, up-and-coming talent agency in the known universe!"
"You don't even have any clients yet," I pointed out.
"That just means you're getting in on the ground floor of something big!"
"Show me a client. Until then, that remains to be seen."
"There's that defeatist attitude again." With a disappointed "hmmph", she sat back in her chair, and looked out the window. "Trust me, I'm going to find us a star that will rock all of humanity."
I sipped my tea. I had to admit, that resolve shining in her eyes... even as it was levied against a universe that was surely going to slap her in the face... it was kind of admirable. I also had to admit, it made me want to know more.
"So, what made you decide to start up this agency in the first place?" I asked.
"Oh, just an article I read." She didn't turn to face me. Just kept looking out that window. "After college, all these companies wanted to hire me. It was actually hard to choose between them all. But then, I actually tried them. Every single one was completely dull." I wondered what sorts of jobs she'd taken on, but she didn't seem interested in talking about that. "I got really depressed. Being bored in school was bad enough, but this was the rest of my life. I started playing a lot of video games, just to pass the free time in a way that would keep me from thinking about how my life was going nowhere, you know?"
"Yeah, I... I have a friend who may have been doing that for a while."
"Anyway, I was surfing through gaming websites one day, and I read this article talking about Hideo Kojima leaving Konami and going independent or whatever. It basically argued that people should look at it positively, and wish Kojima the best. It said that he would probably produce games that are as good or better than the ones he made before, and even if he didn't, he was making the right decision."
Wait.
"Because he wouldn't have left Konami if he didn't have his own ideas for how he wanted to do things. He needed to start his own company so that he could exercise those ideas."
This is starting to sound familiar.
"That made me think, well, I have lots of ideas. And even when I've been a manager or a vice president, I haven't been really free to follow those ideas, because I still have to follow company policies. That article was right. If you're a visionary, it's not enough to be in charge. You have to spearhead the whole enterprise!"
This is very inspiring, but pause, please. For just one second.
"I wanted to do something that would make the whole world better. Something exciting. And what could be more inspiring than musical idols? So, I started up a talent agency."
She stopped there, so I made my move. "Do you remember who -"
"There she is!" Haruhi's eyes burst like fireworks, and she leapt from her seat.
"Who?"
"Hit me like lightning!" She bolted out of the cafe so fast that it was probably a good stroke of luck that the glass panes in the door didn't break.
"Whoa, hold up!" I went after her, momentarily forgetting that we hadn't paid the check yet and were essentially committing dine-and-dash.
What am I saying, "essentially"? Apart from the fact that we hadn't actually dined, only drank, this was the dictionary definition of dine-and-dash.
On the sidewalk near the cafe, Haruhi was yelling in the face of a petite young woman with long red hair. "You're going to be our first BIG STAR! Join our studio as an idol!"
"Wuh... wha?" The woman was understandably confused and frightened, and trembling like a rabbit in a trap.
"You're going to love it! Your face will be everywhere: on hit singles, posters, TV shows, music videos... everyone looking at you, the world's biggest star!"
"Ah... ah, aaaaaaa!" She moaned and covered her face with both hands, as if to ward off the imminent flashes of paparazzi cameras.
I finally caught up. "Leave her alone," I told Haruhi. "What do you think you're doing, anyway? You can't scout talent this way."
"How would you know?" she shot back. "You said yourself that you have no experience in the field, so you have no idea how it's really done. Anyway, she's absolutely perfect."
"Perfect? She's quivering in terror just from you yelling at her for no good reason. How do you expect her to perform in front of huge audiences?"
"Pssh, confidence is just a skill that you can learn. She's got something you can't learn: Moe."
"What do you mean, moe?"
"Moe, moe, moe! Just look at her!"
I did have to admit, she was pretty adorable. She was dressed much more modestly than Suzumiya, with a rose-colored button-up coat that perfectly obscured any figure she might have, and a skirt that went down almost to her ankles. Her wide-eyed face was almost... well, angelic.
"Well, whether she has idol potential or not, you can't just force our services on her. Come on."
Without even thinking about it, I took hold of Haruhi's arm and started pulling her back towards the cafe. Probably the most insane action of my life thus far. There was no telling how an unstable, forceful character like Haruhi Suzumiya might react to that, and certainly anyone in her position, sane or otherwise, could be expected to immediately reconsider her decision to hire me. But wrong was wrong, and standing by while your boss harassed some hapless stranger in the middle of the street was wrong. Not to mention likely to get us both arrested.
"Hey! I'm not forcing anything on her! I was just making my pitch! You have to at least give her a chance to say yes or no!"
"You've got her so terrified she can't even talk. Just take the way she reacted to your 'pitch' as her answer."
"Ugh, fine." Her arm went slack in my hand, and I let go of it.
It was weird. All that fire and feistiness, and she had dropped the fight just like that, without even threatening to scream for the police if I didn't let go of her arm. It was like... like she already considered me a friend, rather than just an employee.
In a way, that fitted with the hyper energy she seemed bursting with, but still, it was weird.
"W-w-wait!"
We turned around. The girl Haruhi had accosted was running up to us at a clunky sort of gait. "Can... can you really make me an idol?"
Suzumiya flashed her a smile. "Of course! At Save the World by Overloading it with Fun by Blowing Up the Earth 3 Times Studio, making dreams come true is our business!"
The girl blinked. "At... what?"
"Just call it SO3 Studio," I sighed.
"Okay... Well, if you'll have me than I... I've always dreamed of being a singer, and I... I'd like to try and see if I can succeed with your studio."
Say what?
"Wonderful!" Suzumiya pronounced. "It must be fate!"
Man, she says that a lot, doesn't she.
But it reminded me of my question. When Suzumiya was done effusively welcoming our first client, who introduced herself as Mikuru Asahina, and we had brought her back to our table in the cafe (thankfully before any of the staff noticed we had left), I took a sip of my now lukewarm tea and said, "Hey, do you happen to remember who wrote that article about Kojima?"
"Oh, some nobody," she said with disinterest. "It wasn't even a proper byline, just a username."
"Well, do you remember what the username was?"
"I think it was Diamondcut? Something like that. With some numbers at the end of it."
Diamondcutter007.
My online pseudonym. One of my articles triggered Haruhi's idea for SO3 Studio. What are the odds of that happening by pure coincidence?
Was she right?
Is this... fate?
END