The light music club at Sakuragaoka High had never gone digital with their music until I joined. I could feel Sawa's eyes on me from a distance, questioning my reason for being there. Yui Hirasawa was a prodigy, but all I could produce was chaos. That computer saved me. The band could listen to a melody before a single note was played, and our music could take on sounds it had never had before, gaining accompaniment from within the software.
My name is Nao Okuda, music producer for the Sakuragaoka Light Music Club. In my second year, my seniors graduated, leaving me and Sumire Saito in charge of the band. Neither of us had the charisma that Azusa or Yui had, but the band kept going. We had each other, at least, and that was enough to get people interested in joining. Time has passed since then, and Sumire and I have entered our first year of university.
I was sleeping on the desk out in the dorm room, my computer humming above me, sending out a faint blue glow. I had spent the night working on a music video for Azusa. She had told me that it reminded her of herself, in the final days before her friends' graduation. It was nothing complex, mostly footage of her performing in the school lounge, but she wanted me to turn it in on time, even if that meant staying up all night.
Someone was tapping on my shoulder. It was a light poke, but it hit the nape of my neck, jolting me up from the chair. I looked over at the coffee I had purchased last night. It was mostly empty. The remaining drops dribbled out onto the floor as the can rolled itself up to the trash can, stopping with a light clanging noise.
I looked up. The person waking me had bright blue eyes and golden hair, perhaps the lightest shade I've ever seen. She was slightly taller than average, but that only served to make her more timid. She picked up the can and threw it away, smiling as she did so. This was the Sumire I had mentioned before.
"We're living on our own now, you should do your part to keep this room clean," she said in a light but criticising tone.
"There's work to be done," I said in between yawns.
"I have work to do, too," said Sumire indignantly.
"Isn't cleaning things up your job?" I said, my brain not catching up with my mouth just yet, "The shadow of the Kotobuki household still hangs over you, doesn't it?"
Sumire froze, and retreated into the kitchen. "I'll get back to making breakfast," she said, hastily trying to change the subject, "What would you like?"
"Anything will do," I answered.
The Saito family has served the Kotobuki family for generations, Sumire is only the latest. Going away to college should have freed her from her duty, but this is the same college Lady Tsumugi is at. Not that Kotobuki's issued us any formal orders, but Sumire always lives with the thought that she will.
Sumire walked out to the table with a large plate of pancakes for me, and a smaller plate of pancakes for herself. She slid the plate in front of me, and I began digging in. I asked Sumire for a coffee, and she complied. Once I had a sip of the bitter yet creamy drink, my alertness had returned to normal. I stood up and grabbed my textbooks.
"Just these should be good for today," I said, stepping carefully towards my bedroom. My pace quickened as the caffeine reached my body. My left foot got caught in the cable holding my laptop to the wall, and my right foot got caught on my left. I stumbled onto the carpet, the friction of the floor rubbing against my elbows. My textbooks spilled out in front of me.
"Nao!" said Sumire, rushing to help me up.
"This is nothing," I said.
I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I could hear the phone ringing behind me, it grew silent, until stopping altogether when Sumire picked it up. I stepped into the shower and let the sounds of the water drown out the conversation outside. My body perked up. The water sounded like a drum roll, the steps of my feet became notes. Even when taking a break from music producing, I couldn't escape it.
Without my glasses, the world became blurry and unfocused. The water streaming down on my head, accentuated by the pale white light filtering in through the window, made the shower appear a watery veil before me. With my body rejuvenated, I shut off the shower and started feeling around for my glasses. They were nowhere to be found on the countertop. A warm hand gave me my glasses.
"Sumire, what is it?" I said, rubbing the water droplets off the lenses.
"Wonderful news!" she said, holding my hands.
"Oh?" I said.
"Lady Tsumugi just called. She and Houkago Tea Time have been invited to perform at Budokan! Milady and her friends are finally achieving their dreams. I'm so happy for them," said Sumire, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, I wish I could be on stage with them. But they already have a drummer. Whoever heard of a maid who plays the drums?"
"Can I get dressed?" I asked.
"Let me help you with that, please, Miss Producer," said Sumire. "Si-since I'm here already."
She wasn't saying anything, but I could hear it in her inflection. Sumire had been assisting Tsumugi since she was young, and now that her lady was finally doing something independently, Sumire couldn't help but feel she was responsible, if only indirectly, for this chance at stardom. She wanted to be thanked for something she wasn't even sure if she'd done.
It was a feeling I was familiar with.
We received another call a month later after Lady Tsumugi had met with someone by the name of Masaka Yumeno. Sumire had offered to come along, but Mugi declined. She didn't give a reason why, which did little to help Sumire's anxiousness.
It was the middle of February now. Sumire was sitting at her drum kit in the middle of her room. She had yet to touch the drums today. Though she was playing for an audience of no one, something was stopping her body from moving. I set my books down on the table and sat on the couch beside her.
"You seem out of it," I said.
"What am I going to do? I want to be at the concert to support Lady Tsumugi, but I can't just ask her for tickets. She might get angry at me, and say something like 'Sumire, I'm making sacrifices, so you should too', and leave me stranded. I'm living on a college student's budget, how am I supposed to get train and concert tickets to go to Tokyo? It's all too much to take in," said Sumire, barely stopping to catch her breath.
"Have you tried contacting Azusa?" I asked.
"Azusa said she didn't know anything about a concert," said Sumire.
"That's... weird," I said.
Sumire would continue to act like this for the rest of the day. She wasn't paying attention in class. The margins of her notes were filled with financial calculations and pining for Mugi. Day turned into night. Sumire was back at her drum kit, her cell phone in hand. I was making dinner this time, hoping she had found an answer to her dillemma.
The phone's ringing resounded through the empty house, broken up only by Sumire's drumsticks randomly bounding about on the drum kit. A voice came through on the other end. It was a dignified voice, with a fatherly warmth. The kind of voice that you'd expect to be filtered through a mustache.
Sumire was still too afraid to talk to Tsumugi directly.
"Hello, father?" Sumire said.
The bonds between Sumire, her father and Lady Tsumugi were undeniable. Though the members of Houkago Tea Time had never been invited to the Kotobuki Estate directly, they'd visited two of the smaller private beach houses, and haggled a few guitars down to an unreasonable price with no real loss to the family fortune. Mr. Saito allowed these applications of the family wealth, and Sumire was right there beside him, always watching.
"Sumire, how are your studies going?" said her father's voice.
"Th-they're going fine," she said, "About the concert, at the Budokan... would it be alright if I went? And brought a friend of my own?" I turned my head towards the living room. "I've been on the sidelines for so long that I want to participate in something for once, so if you could ask Lady Tsumugi for a pair of tickets, please..."
"Sumire, don't worry," said her father, "I received word from milady this morning. A pair of tickets has already been set aside. They're in the special room reserved for such occasions, if you would-"
Sumire interrupted, a passion in her voice, "I-I would like the tickets to be closer to ground level. Please," she said "It's closer to her. Tell milady I said thanks."
"I will," said Mr. Saito.
"Yay!" said Sumire, dropping the phone onto the drum kit. A loud thump shot through the room, causing the phone to vibrate. Mr. Saito's voice became distorted. Sumire was smiling, an aura of pink hearts and bubbles surrounding her, not noticing her father was still talking.
"Milady was going to be in Tokyo that day anyway, because there's a very important meeting with a fellow company, and I would like you to be there-" Sumire's hand slid past the phone buttons, ending the call abruptly.
Sumire ran over to me and jumped onto my shoulders. "Lady Tsumugi is the best!" she said, "Nao, you'll get a chance to see just what the generation before us was capable of! Of course, it has milady, so it figures it would be the best. I was there for her piano lessons, watching her fingers dance gracefully across the keys..."
"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, so if you could just, please..." I insisted. It was too late.
I forgot to mention, there's a reason why I let Sumire cook, and it has nothing to do with her maid credentials. My skills have improved somewhat since I was taken under Sawa's wing, but when I try to do anything not related to technology...
Sumire caused my elbow to bump against the container of salt, spilling the entire contents into the scrambled eggs I was making. The whisk in my hand slipped, and the pan skidded off the stove. A jet of flame shot up from the stove top before cooling down, and a pile of mushy, salty eggs splatted down beside us, narrowly missing Sumire, but making the floor slippery and salty.
"Nao, leave this to me," said Sumire.
In this apartment, I've been the one on the sidelines.
Over dinner, I began to wonder why Azusa was denying there was such a concert. I'd heard from Sawa that at the end of her second year of high school, she was going through a crisis over what to do when her friends left. To be unaware of something music-related that they were doing was completely unlike her. I'd gotten the same responses when I called up Ui and Jun, which was even stranger. Ui's sister was there, you'd think she'd be able to say something.
Time continued to flow, and before long, Ui and I were waiting at the train station. Other students from around the campus were going with us. Many of them were decked out in shirts and sashes, carrying signs showing which member of the band they were fans of. Sumire asked if she could borrow the bright pink outfits of the Mugi Team, and they gladly lent them to her. Though they were curious why a foreigner was expressing interest in a local Japanese band.
It was a peaceful train ride, taking us through the countryside and through the city streets, people and animals looking at us passing by. Sumire was focused on her Mugi Fan Club goods, the words of her father and lady still on her mind.
I spent a lot of the ride sitting on my knees, looking out towards the sun. Every passing moment was a new area. Within the light music clubs of the schools just beyond the train stations, future musicians like us were sharpening their skills. For some of them, it was their first and only club in their entire school career. I had only gone with the light music club after failing at everything else. Sitting on my knees, looking at others, was where I'd always been.
The train pulled into Tokyo Station. We pushed through the crowds, making our way into the light shining on the damp streets. Sumire grabbed me by the arm and started walking me down the street.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"I was thinking of Sawa's costumes, and there's place where I'd fit in wearing stuff like this," said Sumire, turning around to show off her jacket, "we've got some time to kill, so let's go! To Akihabara!"
"Wait, Akiba?" I said.
There was a lot to take in walking around Tokyo. It was a place of business, a place of leisure, and a place to live. My eyes became unfocused, staring off at nothing in particular, so it was only when I heard the click of a camera that I noticed the streets had changed in a not so subtle fashion.
The wares being sold were on display, accentuated by large, bright posters with bold colors. People carrying entire backpacks full of goods were a common sight. Vans drove around speaking not about politics, but about shows that would be debuting at times no person in their right mind would be awake. Sumire marched ahead, her grip on me loosening, as I was taken aside by a girl dressed up like a cat, with ears and paws, shoes that were also paws, and a tail that I was unsure where it was sticking out of.
"Your friend is a fan of Houkago Tea Time?" asked the girl in costume.
"Sort of," I answered. Sumire was conversing with a group of girls dressed in blue. I remembered seeing people like them back at the train station. The Mio Akiyama Fan Club, they called themselves. "We were actually part of the same clu-"
"I'm surprised you were able to get tickets," said the girl.
"I have to get back to Sumire. We've never been to Akiba before, and..." Sumire had vanished into the crowds. I ran ahead, calling Sumire's name out in the crowds. People diverted themselves around me. I got a closer look at the stores through the crowds. Akiba was the electronics district as much as it was the center of mania culture.
Sumire hadn't come here for herself. She'd come here for me. The one thing I excelled at, she wanted me to be inspired by.
I picked up my pace and darted back and forth across the streets again. My shoulder brushed against someone. I turned around. She was a girl who looked like a delinquent. Her hair was bright green, and wild.
"You said you were part of the same club as Hirasawa?" she asked in a low voice.
"Yes," I answered.
The girl with green hair drew closer to me. She held out her hands like claws, thrusting them towards my face. She grabbed my cheeks. My face flushed bright red, and hers did too. She hastily tucked her hands back into her pockets.
"That's strange. You don't seem to be tangled up in anything," said the girl, "What's your name, kid?"
"Nao Okuda," I answered.
"Mai Ueda," said the girl in the vest, "If you were in that club, you must be able to play an instrument. Are you a guitar? Bass? Accordion?"
She had hit my weak point. My role was appreciated, but from people who didn't know, I appeared to do as much for the club as Sawa. "I can't play. I can make music on the computer, though. Remixes, compositions, that sort of thing."
Mai flexed her arm and gave me a thumbs up. I cocked my head uncertainly.
"Finally, someone else I can count on. You're involved, but you're outside the system. Just what I've been looking for. Yumeno won't care if I change the rules a little bit. All's fair in this game. Okuda, if something happens tomorrow, do whatever you can to give it the best possible outcome," said Mai.
"I will," I said to Mai, leaning against a carton of books on a nearby desk. The carton collapsed onto the street. I apologized to the person who had been trying to tell them. When the books were finally back in place, I looked up, trying to find Mai or Sumire. Mai had vanished. Sumire was right there, a wide smile on her face.
"I never knew there were so many fans of Lady Tsumugi. It's like they'd never heard half of the things I was telling them about her," said Sumire. The two of us walked towards the edge of Akiba, the sun setting behind us. "They're such sticklers for sources. She's like an older sister to me, do I really need to verify these things?"
"Did you?" I asked.
"Well, no. I was afraid if I let out my true identity, milady would have me fired. I have nowhere else to go," said Sumire.
She continued telling me stories all the way home. She went to prepare dinner, leaving me alone in the room. Sumire returned from the kitchen, two steaming hot cups of tea in her hand.
"Sumire, did you see a person with green hair today?" I asked, stirring sugar into my tea.
"Don't be silly, nobody has green hair," said Sumire.
The day of the concert was here. We shared the only bed we had in our room that night. Sumire slept soundly, but I stared at the ceiling fan, ruminating on the words of Mai Ueda before falling into a deep sleep. We were woken not by an alarm clock, but by the bedside phone ringing. Sumire picked it up, and mumbled "Good morning" into the receiver.
"Sumire, urgent word from Master Kotobuki," said her father.
"Dad, it's seven in the morning, I know where Mugi is," said Sumire, reaching across the bed and touching my shoulder, stirring me further awake.
"Good, then. A meeting with one of Master Kotobuki's business partners will be taking place at the Edmont this morning. Get Lady Tsumugi there immediately," said Mr. Saito.
"They have a concert this morning," said Sumire, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
"Try to get it in before that. We're dealing with one of the largest music firms in the world, and punctuality is a must. The Kotobuki family's future rests in your hands, Sumire," he said, hanging up.
Sumire turned around and pushed me, burying my head in the pillow. "Nao? Nao? Are you awake?"
"Good morning, Sumire," I said, "Do you want to go mix with the fans? The concert doesn't start until this afternoon."
"Yes, but my father told me otherwise. I've never done something like this alone. I want you to go with me," said Sumire, "Please."
That same shyness I had seen when I met her in the club room returned. She told me she had been sent to pick up Mugi's tea set, but the tea set remained where it was, serving another generation of the light music club. She got lucky that time. She didn't have nearly that much room for error now.
"Sumiire," I said, rubbing her head, "You're not alone."
"Geez, don't call me that," said Sumire, puffing her cheeks and pouting.
I was enjoying my breakfast while Sumire followed her orders in the hall. Mugi had to be making her way to the Budokan by now. All the posters and billboards around the city were advertising two bands performing, one of them all the way from Hokkaido. Mugi was probably making small talk with Kitaku Free Time, sharing stories and offering to serve tea.
Sumire returned. "I can't reach her," she said, sitting down, "She must be in one of those rooms where there's no signal."
"What would Mugi want you to do in this situation?" I asked.
"She'd want me to go in her place," said Sumire. "It's probably some type of promotional deal. I think it's what Mugi would want, anyway. Today's her day. Let's let our seniors take their first step onto the stage."
"Azusa, Ui and Jun are up there too," I said.
Sumire's face froze. "Why weren't we invited? I know they already have a drummer in Tainaka, but Azu-nyan did so much for us. This must have something to do with this Yumeno person."
"I've heard that name somewhere before," I said. "She's the one who organized this whole event. We still have tickets to the concert, so even if we can't support them from behind the scenes, we can cheer them on from the crowds."
"You're right," said Sumire, pouring herself her third cup of tea that morning.
We walked towards the Edmont, away from the crowds flocking towards the arena. I looked around for any sign of that Ueda person, but no one's hair was that bright. We stepped into the hotel, where the clerk pointed us in the direction of the room Kotobuki had reserved. The other name outside the room was written in English.
"Barraud," I said, leaning down.
Silence. The cleaning lady came by, checking the hotel rooms. She gave me, who was loitering outside the meeting room, a strange look, but continued going about her business. I walked to the front of the hotel. A car came to a halt outside. It was a large limousine of a foreign make. Probably Swiss. Sumire had gone on at length about Switzerland, but neglected any contacts the Kotobuki family might have had there.
A butler opened the door, clearing the way for a young man with dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He had a boyish figure, but his shoulders were broad and his walk casual. His butler approached the desk and spoke with the receptionist.
"Mr. Barraud, welcome," she greeted him.
"So that's Barraud," I said under my breath.
I trailed behind him, standing outside the door of the meeting room. This guy looked only a few years older than Sumire, in his early twenties at best. Anyone involved with Kotobuki would have to be involved in music, but his outfit said he was here for business. I looked closer, and noticed a white rose in his pocket.
The man opened his wallet, and took out a picture of Tsumugi. I've seen that picture in Azusa's yearbook. He held it up to Sumire's face, and lowered it. His stoic expression had changed to a wide grin.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Tsumu-gi," he said.
I had to stifle my laughter. He sounded like he was speaking phonetically. The words were correct, but they had such a heavy British accent that his handsome face now appeared almost cartoony. He turned his head, and I slid beyond the window.
"I-I'm not mila-" Sumire stuttered.
"Nonsense. Your picture looks a little darker than you do in public, but your face is as beautiful as the sun. My father told me about you, but we should get to know each other before take the next step, yes?" he said.
"My father didn't tell me anything about a next step," said Sumire.
"A Japanese beauty like you and a wealthy man like me, " said Barraud, drawing and presenting the white rose. "My name is John Barraud. You, Tsumu-gi, are to become... my wife."