Onna Gumi Chapter Final Chapter: Inspiration! (恩那組編 最終章: 啓発!)
The weather was already starting to clear up. The sun cast its light through the window of the apartment complex, brightening Kota Yatsubo's tiny bedroom. Sachi opened the blinds and pulled back the curtains. Yatsubo moved his hands up to his eyes. My master thought he was adjusting to the room's new brightness. He knew that it was what that brightness revealed.
Every rip in the multicolored dress was showing clearly. The spider web-like maze of threads now hung limply, and the ceiling fan slowly ground to a halt. Yatsubo looked back into the living room, seeing the dress Yamanaka had worn flopped over the edge of the bed, wrinkled and unraveled.
"So this is what it ends up as," he said, tying the thread back into its spools, opening his dresser drawer, "Thread that will never lead anywhere, never be stitched into anything. I should've known aligning myself with the otaku crowd would end badly. It hurts you and the ones you love."
"The concert hasn't actually started yet," said Sachi, looking at her cell phone's clock, "Until it ends, anything can happen. Houkago Tea Time already has a lot of fans. That's what got them there in the first place. Yamanaka cares about her students. Even if tonight wasn't a success, she'd still support them."
"You don't understand!" said Yatsubo, arranging his thread spools like a color wheel, "Koike wanted a set of themed costumes for her group's performance. She turned to me. That was the biggest commission I'd ever received. I didn't know she planned to use it for that purpose. I'm an accomplice now. For the downfall of the next generation of musicians trained by my idol. I'll never be able to look at myself in the mirror now."
Ayame raised her hand, a drum stick clasped tight in her palm, and grabbed Yatsubo's attention. "What about us? We came back for you, you know. All artists are a little crazy. Just look at Akira."
"Ayame," Akira said, giving her a sharp glare.
"We're still looking for an artist and you're still looking for a client. We're not leaving yet. Onna Gumi and friends of Onna Gumi never leave each others' side!" said Ayame.
"You're starting to sound like Hirasawa now too," said Akira jokingly.
"I'm a third rate artist who's way past his prime," said Yatsubo, "I'd be lucky if I was a sellout, but I can't even do that. You should go find someone who will treat you with the care you deserve. Go on. Get out. I'll be waiting for the door to slam, and that will be the end of that. Forgot you ever knew me."
Akira stood up. Her eyes were closed. She walked over to Yatsubo and extended her arm, grabbing him forcefully by the collar of his shirt. She brought him down to her eye level and took a deep breath. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the beats of her and Yatsubo's heart.
"Third rate artist? Do you not see that dress, right in front of you? I was scared out of my mind when I got here, but I still found it in my heart to praise you. Not out of pity, but praise. Genuine praise. Even when you're imitating something, it still has a style that's yours. Artists try for years to find what they're good at. We're still trying. You've already found it, and you're completely ignoring it. That's not modesty. That's ignorance," said Akira, finally letting loose. She loosened her grip.
"People have tried to tell me it's good, but nobody wants to buy anything," said Yatsubo, "I'm never going to find mainstream success. Not now. People aren't interested in depressing things. People would only be seen wearing my clothes in the seedy areas of downtown. That's all they're worth."
"If you've never been given a chance, how would you know?" asked Ayame. "You don't have to go mainstream if you want to find success."
"Having a small but dedicated group of people who like your clothes would be nice too," said Sachi, "It's like a family or a club. Or a band."
"What if I do something wrong? If I lose that small amount of people, I'll lose my comfortable life," said Yatsubo, backing away into the bathroom.
"That's what taking risks is," said Akira, "There's already a group of people out there who like your work. Us. It could probably be a little more pumped up, but your style and ours have something in common. They're powerful. People are going to be remembering your works long after they've been released. You wanted to work with us, and now we want to work with you. This is the chance of a lifetime. You can say you were there before we were famous, and that you helped us get there."
Kota Yatsubo looked up and down at my master's body. "You're a stubborn tomboy. Are you telling me you'd want to wear that dress?"
"Just because I don't look like a girl doesn't mean I can't be feminine!" said Akira, "I... I named my guitar Rosalie. I like to look cute sometimes. I'd wear that dress by my own choice. I'll even wear it tonight. Get a hold of yourself! Start being the artist you always wanted to be! You're the only one who can do that."
Akira let Yatsubo down. His body was still shaking. He went back into the living room, pouring himself a cold drink. Outside, the chirping of birds came through, forming a serendipitous melody.
"Maybe you were too hard on him, Akira," said Ayame.
"You're right," said Akira, brushing her finger past her earring, "We need to practice anyway. Let's leave."
The girls made it out into the living room, and were almost to the entrance hallway when Yatsubo stopped them. Fabric was underneath his arms, and a needle, already threaded, was held between his fingers.
"Where are you going?" asked Yatsubo.
"To practice?" said Ayame.
"I can't get anything done if I don't have my equipment," said Yatsubo, "Time's wasting. I need to get you ready for tonight."
Sachi and Ayame smiled. Akira hesitated at first, but once Ayame slapped her on the back, her expression changed into a small grin.
Akira wasn't going back on her word. She was going to wear that hodgepodge dress. With the state it was in, some repairs were going to be needed. Akira reached into her guitar case, producing a felt version of Onna Gumi's symbol. "I'd been meaning to use these for a while, but nothing really fit," said Akira.
"This will stand out. The colors are a lot darker," said Yatsubo, "You sure you want to go with this?"
"Yes," said Akira, giving a thumbs up.
One of the patches was sewn over the shoulder. Another was sewn over the right side of the waist. The last one was applied to the bottom of the dress. Akira looked over Yatsubo's work. The asymmetry with the shoulders was clear. She placed her hand on the center of the patch and traced a curved line across the top of the dress.
"I was thinking we could add a sash here. It would make look like a warrior," said Akira.
Yatsubo reached into his closet and produced a long roll of black fabric and a pair of scissors. He started cutting, checking back with Akira to make sure the sash would wrap nicely around her body. With a leisurely pace and needlepoint precision, the black wrapped around the dress, contrasting the other colors, but ultimately finding itself complementing them all.
"I want to get in on this," said Ayame.
Ayame extended her hand out to catch a ruler that Yatsubo had already prepared. Sachi carefully checked Ayame's three sizes, writing them down on a piece of paper with a crude sketch of the human form. Yatsubo walked into his closet and found a white bowler hat with a thick gray stripe just above the brim.
"Is this part of the outfit?" asked Ayame.
"Your hairstyle would look good with a hat, it makes you look stylish," said Yatsubo.
Ayame flipped the hat onto her head and looked at herself in a nearby mirror. She pushed the hat downward. "Awesome!" she exclaimed.
"I'm thinking of going for a sun dress with lots of white and gray," said Yatsubo. "It says that you're wild, but not without a method to it. Give me a minute." Yatsubo opened the door to the living room. "I'm going to need more space for this."
He opened one of the drawers beneath his television, revealing a sewing machine made at least a decade ago. The paint had begun to chip, but as soon as Yatsubo put the fabric inside of it, it started running like it was brand new. "I've been doing maitenance on it. I don't want to get rusty," said Yatsubo.
Ayame saw a roll of fabric the length of half the room spread out. Yatsubo carefully traced the shape of the dress into it, and started cutting. Yatsubo added another band of gray around the waist of the dress, and added a similar design going up the center of the chest. He held it up against Ayame like a painter creating a portrait. The clock ticked as the sun continued to set across the horizon. Time had vanished into the background for the master artist. All there was in this apartment was his craft and he.
"What's your name?" he said, looking up to the bassist.
"Sachi Hayashi," she said.
"For you, I'm thinking something a little longer in the sleeves and waist. A belt would look nice with it too. Shades of blue, mostly light blue, would work. It would stand against the color of your hair and eyes."
"You can tell all that just by looking at me?" asked Sachi.
"An artist has to be observant. The world inspires art, which inspires the world," said Yatsubo, "and my canvas is people. It would be harder not to find inspiration."
"Leave the measurements to me," said Ayame, stretching out the measuring tape and wrapping it around Sachi. Yatsubo went back to get more fabric, and repeated the process. Now that he'd already gotten one outfit of his system, the second one was finished with even greater efficiency.
"I'll step outside," said Yatsubo, after grabbing a drink can from his fridge.
"Running away again?" asked Akira.
"You girls need to change in peace. I'll be back in a few," he said, closing the door behind him.
Sachi was the first into her dress. She felt like a new person. If she were to sing a song in this outfit, the world would instantly associate it and the song thereafter. Ayame was next. She placed her hat on a nearby chair, tapping on it with her drum sticks. The sound of wood against wood doinked across the apartment.
"It's a hi-hat!" said Ayame.
Sachi smiled, laughing politely.
"Come on out, Akira!" shouted Ayame.
Akira walked out slowly. This was the most feminine her bandmates had ever seen her look. Some loose threads were still sticking out of the dress. Akira looked at herself in the mirror. She couldn't believe her own expression.
"I look like a peacock," she said.
"You look cute," said Ayame.
"It suits you," said Sachi.
"It's only for tonight. I wouldn't want to let down our new partner. Don't let Houkago Tea Time hear anything about this. This is just between us..." said Akira.
"...and all the people in the audience tonight," said Ayame.
Yatsubo walked back in. By now, my master had strapped me to her back, and Sachi had done likewise. We looked like we were ready for a road trip, not a dance. That was our style. Yatsubo held up his fingers like a frame. "It's beautiful. The unity of color, of theme, like a prism before my eyes. What was your band's name again?"
"Onna Gumi!" the three said in unison.
Akira's cell phone started buzzing on a nearby table. She picked it up and saw that the call was from Masaka Yumeno. This was the first time Akira heard her voice. It was barely above a whisper, with the volume making it audible, with a lot of static in the background. "Who are you?" asked Akira.
"Someone who sees potential," said the voice on the other end, "Are you three going to any other performances tonight?"
"We have one in a few minutes," said Akira, "Just got some new outfits too."
"Purchased or made?" asked Yumeno.
"The second one," said Akira, "He's right here if you want to talk to him." She removed the phone from her ear and placed her hand over the speaker. "Hey, Yatsubo, it's for you."
"Not just yet," said Yumeno, "Hayashi, Yoshida, can one of you send me a photo? We like having all of our up and coming artists on hand."
"Hey, Yatsubo," said Ayame, handing over her phone. Yatsubo put down his drink and randomly clicked around the phone until he found himself at the camera. Ayame and Sachi grabbed Akira's arms and made a V sign with their free hand. Akira, still in mid conversation, was left with a flustered expression on her face. The cell's camera clicked.
"I think that's the first picture we have where you don't look angry," said Sachi.
"You're not a bad photographer either," said Ayame in Yatsubo's direction. She sent the picture ahead to Yumeno.
"A little rough, but for something made in one afternoon, it's not bad," said Yumeno, "I would like to speak with the designer of these outfits, Miss Wada."
"Okay," said Akira uncertainly, handing over the phone to Yatsubo. He placed the phone up to his ear, listening for the whispering voice. The only thing coming out of the phone was dead air. There was the sound of another person being added to the line. Yatsubo turned on the speaker.
"Hello, who is this?" asked the third voice.
This was the first time my master and her friends had seen Yatsubo actually look happy. The person he was talking to on the other end never considered herself a celebrity, just an artist. How Miss Yumeno had gotten a direct line to her, nobody was certain. The faint sounds of a guitar playing in the background could be heard over the phone.
"Kota Yatsubo, costume designer," he said, almost tripping over his words, "Are you... Catherine?"
"Nobody's called me that in years," she said with a slight tinge of embarrassed laughter, "I'm just a high school teacher. Yamanaka's fine. Did you make these costumes? They're cute. My students would love something like this. As long as they don't try to put me in it."
"You like my work? Re-really?" asked Yatsubo.
"The one in the middle is the best. The other two aren't bad either, even if they were quickly made. If you can produce something like that under a deadline, you could do this professionally. It'll always be a hobby for me," said Sawako.
"Professionally..." said Yatsubo, lingering on the sound of that word. "Thank you, Yumeno."
"Who are those girls in the picture?" asked Sawako.
"Onna Gumi. They were performing here today, and a lot of things happened," said Yatsubo.
"I've heard that name somewhere before," said Sawako, "It sounds like what Ritsu would name a band."
"Ritsu?" asked Ayame, "As in Ritsu Tainaka?"
"That's the one," said Sawako, "She was a great club president. Oh, you girls know her?"
"We went to college with her. With all of them, actually," said Ayame.
"Yui's told me all about you," said Sawako, "It was a pleasure meeting you. You, too, Yatsubo. It's great to see the next generation of musicians rising to stardom. Send me something from the concert!"
"Wait, we don't even know your-" said Akira, Sawako's phone cutting out of the conversation. "Yatsubo, are you there? You're kind of spacing out."
"I'm part of the next generation? Catherine..." he stopped, seeing Sachi giving him a questioning stare, "...I mean, Yamanaka, was so nice. Koike can do whatever she wants, I know who I want to be with. Thank you, Yumeno. I feel like a first rate artist now." Yumeno had already hung up.
There are many kinds of silence. The four gathered in this apartment in Nagoya, far away from the mainstream music world, were wrapped in the a silence full of affirmation. Traces of hard work were still littered around the apartment. Friends were at their side. Akira walked over to the window, and looked at the row of cherry trees blooming bright pink alongside the street.
"I thought that yukata was embarrassing," said Akira, "I'd much rather be seen in that than this rainbow-colored thing. It feels kind of heavy. As long as we're living in this moment, I'll go with it. Maybe someday we can do things like this back home."
"Street performers!" said Ayame, leaning over the edge of the window, catching a falling cherry blossom petal in her hair.
"That sounds like fun," said Sachi. "How much longer do we have until the club opens?"
Akira checked her watch. "Two hours? That's hardly enough time. Sachi, Ayame, come with me. We've got some practice to do." Akira picked up my bag and slung me across her back. The trio approached the front of Yatsubo's apartment. The designer ran towards us.
"You said something about a club? Can you tell me where it is? This will be my first time going somewhere in years," he said.
"It's Club Quattro," said Akira. "We'll be looking for you in the seats." She extended her hand for a firm handshake. "Thanks for all the help."
It felt good to be taken out of my case again. Before the night arrived, we got a call from Yui in Tokyo. She told us about how Kitaku Free Time had a guitar that reminded her of me. The rest of the band chimed in as well. We didn't hear from Tsumugi until near the end of the call, with Ritsu explaining that she had something to do for her father's business. Their time to take to the stage was drawing near, and so was ours.
I never thought I'd be happy to talk to Gitah's master again.
The streets of Nagoya at night were beautiful. The streetlights popped on one by one, illuminating the buildings and the cherry blossom trees. The people had changed. They were younger, more wildly dressed, many of them holding each other arm in arm. We approached the front of the club. Akira opened the door, dodging someone running out wildly into the streets, cheering at the top of his lungs.
"Who are they?" asked voices from around the club.
"Those outfits are so bright," said another.
Akira approached the man near the front of the bar, who almost didn't recognize her. "That's a pretty fancy look for this place. You think you'll be able to pull it off?" he said.
"This crowd doesn't know what's coming," said Akira.
Until showtime came, and there was still another hour until it did, they were regular bar patron. A woman led the band backstage, letting me and Sachi's bass rest comfortably up against the wall. Onna Gumi sat down and prepared themselves a strong cup of tea. Listening to Tsumugi had reminded them of luxuries like that.
"This is it. Anybody nervous?" asked Akira.
"Besides yourself?" said Ayame.
"Of course I'm nervous. Why shouldn't I be? This is a major gig. In front of lots of rowdy people. We can't afford to make any mista-" Sachi grabbed onto Akira's hand and brought it down to her waist.
"The other bands are just as nervous as us. We can be nervous together. This reminds me of a story Mio told me," said Sachi.
"It always comes back to Hirasawa," said Akira. "That girl's got a lot more influence than even she's aware of."
"Houkago Tea Time performed in a club like this at a much younger age than us. Even if we don't get signed tonight, it's still an experience that will lead us towards the future," said Sachi.
They walked back out into the club. Kota Yatsubo, dressed in a brightly colored T-shirt and jeans, a glowstick in his hand, called out to them. Akira pushed her way through the crowds. Yatsubo was laughing joyously, waving and greeting everyone that passed him by.
"Are you drunk?" asked Akira.
"Drunk? I don't need to get drunk to enjoy this. The atmosphere is incredible. I need to do this more often. What do cute girls like you say to going out to karaoke after this?" he looked towards the stage, raising his glow stick in tune with the beat.
"I don't think you need us anymore," said Sachi.
"Karaoke does sound pretty fun. Can we do that tomorrow, Akira?" asked Ayame.
"I'll think about it," said Akira.
Onna Gumi weren't the only ones who stood out amongst the club goers that night. There was a man dressed in a tuxedo, with a thin mustache. Sachi passed by him quickly, only catching a part of his conversation.
"Master Barraud, I am at one of those clubs you asked me to visit," he said, "Tell me what you think of this sound." He held his phone up to the stage. "I see. Then I will continue searching."
Onna Gumi returned backstage, getting their instruments ready. Akira and Sachi their instruments, and Ayame checked the tightness of her drums. Akira looked at herself in the mirror. "Showtime," she said.
"We need something to remember this night," said Sachi, holding out her cell phone. "Everybody, smile!" The camera clicked.
There was very little background in the picture, most of the frame being taken up by its three subjects. The poses were slack and candid, and the instruments could be seen reflected in the mirror.
Sachi mailed the snapshot to Yui and the others. We got a brief message in return. "Do your best!"
Out on the club floor, the noise had quieted down. The emcee walked onto the stage. "That was great! We're just getting started. You may have seen this next group at the flower viewing this morning. That was just a taste of what they can do. All the way from N. Women's College, give a warm welcome to Onna Gumi!"
The crowd started applauding. Ayame took her seat behind the drum kit. Akira and Ayame stood side by side, exchanging glances at each other. Some of it had to be because of me. A black guitar, a Les Paul at that, against something that looked neither comfortable to wear or play in. I am an extension of my master. I trust that she knows what she's doing. The crowd was silent, except for Yatsubo and his clapping. Akira took a deep breath.
"It's really great to be here," said Akira, "Nagoya's an amazing city. There are some really creative people. You look like you're ready for some fun, so let's get this started. One two three four!"
The lights focused onto the stage. Akira started off with a medium paced tune, one where guitar and bass were in equal prominence. Her singing voice blasted through the speakers, echoing towards the back of the floor. Valiant, the man in the suit, held up his phone to the stage once more.
"You like this sound, Master Barraud?" he said, "They're a wild bunch of youngsters."
Yatsubo was clapping his hands in tune with the beat. He could be heard whispering to himself, "That sound is all their own."
The song drew to a close. Applause and cheers filled the air. Sweat was rolling down the faces of all three members of the band. There was an entire album's worth of songs left to play.
Fame, like cherry blossoms, is fleeting. For tonight, we were in full bloom!