Chapter 19

Overture

People were becoming suspicious with three costume-clad Japanese girls standing around and waiting for a sharp-dressed, long-haired man setting up a computer and speakers. Iori, and the other girls too, were getting embarrassed just standing there. In reality it was only a minute, but under the stares of some many foreigner-born vacationers, it felt infinitely long.

Before having them step foot in public, Jordan went over a basic rundown of what he planned. Ryuuguu Komachi were going to sing and dance right on Las Vegas Boulevard. A simple enough concept, but they had neither the music, space, nor permission to do so. The local ensured them that (amateur) performers always occupy that area of the sidewalk without receiving a hassle. He explained that in the past it was highly regulated and anyone dreaming of doing so would quickly get shut down and fined. This changed less then a year ago with the downturn of the economy. It was a quick and inexpensive way to draw attention to their hotel, and it was more damaging to turn them away then to let them be. So in the end these (amateur) entertainers were allowed, if not exactly encouraged. Still being the middle of the week, Ryuuguu Komachi shouldn't have much competition with whom to contend.

As for the music, he had his computer. Hidden away in that backpack of his was small stereo speakers that he claimed would do the trick. It was hard to imagine they could, as they were so small, but Jordan assured them they had a big bite. Perhaps in an office setting they could, but out in the open...Everyone was reluctant to believe in him, but he cooingly laughed at their reluctance.

What kept their Guerilla Live from starting immediately was Jordan looking for a power outlet, but finding nothing. Iori figures from his grumblings that this wasn't a huge issue and that he had alternatives at his disposal. Sure enough he went back to his sack and produced a rather peculiar looking cord. It had an insert like for a wall outlet, but two plugs that went to his computer. After plugging everything together, he gave them the signal that they were ready.

Now that Iori thought about it, Jordan hadn't ever heard her sing. For him it was just an idea, something he had to imagine without having any past experience off which to base a estimate. Perhaps this was why he was always so reluctant to believe she was an Idol. To Jordan, this was their debut. A warm and deep feeling blossoms in Iori's chest and all her hair stand on end. A smile is inseparable from her lips and her body surges with energy. Ryuuguu Komachi's first song overseas would be dedicated to him.

At a volume unheard of from speakers so small, the music starts to play. Somewhat shocked, they don't let this deter them from hitting their cue and dancing. It's a bit techno with a keyboard solo in an almost ballroom rhythm. Without microphones they'll have to sing a bit louder then in normal performances. Long ago were the days of not being able to sing outside their comfort zones. Like professionals, they would give it their all. Iori began, "Yoru no ~ chuushajou de ~ anata wa nanimo iwanai mama."

If there was one regret, it was that Iori couldn't see the expression now on Jordan's face. During this mini-concert it was his duty to man his computer and keep the songs going. All of which was done behind their backs. He also chose the set-list. This was Relations, and next was Go My Way, Kosmos Cosmos, and CHANGE! Unsurprisingly he was only picking songs with English titles, but then again he couldn't even read the ones written in Kanji.

Peeking people's curiosities before, mostly they continued to pass them by. As they started their performance, this wasn't just catching their attention, but demanding it. Those who were heading towards their next place, looking not to be late, were stopping in their tracks to see what was taking place. More than stopping and looking, they were beginning to gather.

At the end of their first song, a more then courteous applause was given. A momentum was starting to build. To those who might be interested, Ritsuko and Richie were handing out the fliers promoting their concert tomorrow night. Many people who were watching were still on the fence about their enjoyment level, and some were walking away. Iori looks back towards Jordan, their conductor. If he wasn't a believer, he is now. An energetic and challenging grin is plastered on his face, and he nods for them to keep going.

All three sing at once, "Go my way ~ Go mae e ~ ganbatte yukimashou ~ ichiban daisuki na ~ watashi ni naritai."

More people are staying, and the crowd grows larger and larger. Were they being judged on their singing, dancing, or costumes? This felt very much like an audition, but instead of a panel of judges, they were appealing to the public. Each and every one of them were a judge, but were they looking at one particular aspect, or their unity as a whole? It was a silly thing to think about. All they really had to do was put their hearts in their performance, and that would be what pierces through the language barrier.

Becoming slightly distracted, Iori wonders if Jordan would still have given his aid if Iori hadn't spoken English. Coming to her naturally, the answer was obvious. Of course he would. Was that Iori's ability or his, being able to completely expose or identify the warmth in their hearts? At the very least, Iori felt she was coming closer to this ideal.

Their second song ends with a much more enthusiastic applause. Pedestrians have been filtering in and out as they sang, but they were still on-edge from deciding. Their third song needs to hit them hard and bring it home.

What Iori wanted was Smokey Thrill, but Jordan hadn't added that to the queue, so she told him, "Forget Kosmos Cosmos, and go straight to CHANGE!"

A little shaken that he was being given orders, the man shook it off and did as he was instructed.

A higher tempo, higher energy song, they begin like a Formula 1 racer at the green light, "Changin' my world, kawaru sekai kagayake ~ Changin' my world, watashi no sekai watashi no mono CHANGE!"

This sudden change didn't go unnoticed by the crowd. As with any great performer, the energy of the girls "on-stage" was being transferred to them. Now the connection had been fully established. Almost like a roar they start to shout and cheer. People are taking pictures, recording it on camera, and sharing what they're hearing with whomever on their phones. At this point Ritsuko and Richie stopped handing out fliers, and were instead having them taken. In the middle of their dance, Iori spots Azusa looking directly at her with an overjoyed expression that says, "Can you believe this?" Ami too is signaling, "This is amazing!" Very well does Iori feel this also, and that is communicated through her insurmountable confidence and enormous presence. As her footfalls stomp on the ground the entire audience shakes. Perhaps this was their greatest achievement; winning over an almost completely indifferent crowd. Even their shows back home lacked this kind of electricity.

Thunderous applause welcomes the completion of their song. With the excellent mood as it was now, it was a great time for the smoother, softer Kosmos Cosmos. As Iori was going to give Jordan the signal, she turns to find him hastily packing his equipment.

Immediately she was brought down from her high. They weren't supposed to be doing this. Exactly how it was wrong she wasn't completely sure, but she knew by now to trust his judgment. They had to leave, and now.

"(Azusa, Ami, we got to go.)"

Her two companions were a bit startled by this announcement, but because it would leave the audience wanting more it wasn't necessarily a bad idea and they accept.

However, Iori couldn't exactly leave it at that, "Thank you everybody! We are Ryuuguu Komachi, and we have come all the way from Japan! If you want to see us Live and On-Stage, make sure to come to our concert at the Green Valley Ranch tomorrow night! We hope to see you all there!"

Normally it wasn't the greatest of ideas to rush through the crowd after a concert. While every idol appreciates their fans, there are some who's devotion crosses into an obsessed state. If she ever tried to brush through them while they were at their most energetic, she could come to expect an inappropriate touch or two. However, something close didn't happen. As they announced their conclusion, the crowd gradually parted in two. In all there might have been close to a hundred people, but that was only by estimate as Iori couldn't see well into a crowd were everybody was taller than her. However, making them part with her small body gave her no shortage of pride. Some were still applauding as they passed, and they even gestured to shake a hand or two. Azusa and Ami might have wanted to spend a bit more time in this environment, but Jordan made sure to shuffle them out of there without alarming them of the direness of their position.

"(That was awesome oniichan!)" Jordan didn't need a translator to understand Ami's sense of accomplishment.

"(I think we cut it off too soon,)" Ritsuko still found a way to complain.

"Don't worry about that," Jordan assures her, "we more then accomplished our goal."

"(Really? How many do you think will come to our Live?)"

He doesn't pull any punches, "A dozen. Maybe half."

Ritsuko's mood drops and silently asks by expression alone, "Then why did we waste our time?"

Continuing, "Did you see all the people taking pictures and recording you guys? That was our objective. I guarantee that they are Twittering, putting the video on YouTube, and posting on their Facebook everything that just happened. It's free press! With any luck it'll go viral and draw attention to our concert."

Iori knew that Ritsuko wouldn't admit it, but that was a great idea. With their lack of time they couldn't go for the little bit of attention here and there, what they needed was for their popularity to snowball. To achieve this they needed to preform some outrageous feats. This kind of show, and it went over very well, was a great first step.

"(Do you really think it was enough?)"

Shaking his head, "Naw. That's why we're going to do it two more times. We gotta hurry up and get to our next location!"

"(Eh?)"

. . .

Their blitz of performances continued in much of the same manner of the first. Their second show was in front of a circus themed hotel. Perhaps it was the more hazardous of spots as they only managed two songs before he rushed them off. Honestly, it wasn't the best choices of locations. Certainly as there foot traffic, but there were two sites very nearby that were under construction and desolate. Also it didn't seem as clean as the first.

After that they ventured very far north to a string of hotels that had a different feel then those on The Strip. If Iori had to put a word to it, she would have said it was more "Classic" Vegas; what was seen in old Hollywood movies and what those in Japan generally associated with the iconic township. Bright lights and plenty of neon. There was even a giant Television screen overhead that stretched the entire block of casinos and hotels.

Pausing so that he could recharge his laptop, Ryuuguu Komachi was given time to wander around. Jordan found an outlet in some dark back alley, but they most certainly couldn't sing here. Since there was no way he'd leave his computer alone, he was left behind.

As they explored, there was more than a time or two where Ritsuko had to shield the eyes of the two youngest idols. Of course they wouldn't accept being treated this way, so as they protested they saw what the commotion was about. Every here and there were posters advertising "Adult" entertainment. Shows, clubs, and even women that came to you. Even Ami was old enough to understand from what she was being shielded. This wasn't anything Iori hadn't seen before in her adventures, but Ritsuko was up in arms the first time it was brandished in her face. Even Azusa had to laugh at the manager's over-reaction. However, this gave Iori some insight into Ritsuko apparent dislike of Jordan. Jordan represented Las Vegas, and Ritsuko had an innate dislike of the types of "entertainment" the city represented. She was only looking at the city on it's face, not what was underneath. Same was true with Jordan, except that even if he did change his face, she couldn't let go of her initial prejudice. This Iori would have to change.

"(Listen, Iori, about Jordan,)" Ritsuko had a tone that was all too familiar, and frankly, Iori was sick of hearing it, "(I'm certain we can't trust him. I'm sure he's-)"

"(That's enough!)" Iori shouts as her limit had finally been reached. "(Ever since you first laid eyes on him you hated him! He's done nothing but help us, and you haven't even given him a chance!)"

This outburst erupted like a steam valve whose pressure's long since entered red. The anger and frustration spewed from her words like a geyser. Not only did it strike Ritsuko as surprising, and a little bit frightening, but Azusa and Ami as well. If they were trying to ignore this tension that had been building, they couldn't anymore. Iori well understood that what was about to be said couldn't be unsaid, and that her choice of words could have dire consequences, but she could let this stand no longer.

"(Iori! Listen to me! He's-)"

"(He's what? A good person? Completely unselfish? My friend? If you don't like him then fine, but can't you trust my judgment?)"

"(He's a murderer!)"

Iori's breath stopped. What did she say? Of all the outlandish things she could accuse, a murderer? Nothing Iori has seen could even point to such an accusation, yet Ritsuko says so without even a fistful a knowledge about him?

"(You have got to be kidding. Of all the accuses you could think of, this was the best you got? Why don't you just say you don't like it when the two of us are together?)"

"(I've seen people like him Iori. It's been bugging me since I first saw him, but I only recently realized what it was. The way he's built, the way he dresses, the way he walks, I'm sure he's-)" she stops herself.

"What's going on?"

Iori quickly spins around to find Jordan standing there, his eyes no less than a little concerned.

"Jordan," Iori found a sudden loss of strength in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you guys shouting," and he emits a pitiful laugh, "and I had a feeling it was about me. So I came to see what's up."

Richie, who's presence was either forgotten or universally ignored, heard the entire conversation as well, "Ritsuko says you're a-"

Iori cuts him off, "I'll do it. Ritsuko is calling you a murderer."

His reaction was the last Iori could have expected. He looked, wounded.

"Y-you don't say."

Of everyone here, Iori's heart-rate skyrocketed to perhaps dangerous levels. Couldn't he have laughed it off or made a joke like he normally does? Why in the world does he have a look of guilt? An icy chill instantly crept through her entire body. If she had the strength she would have run away, but fear, confusion, and morbid curiosity kept her feet planted firmly on the ground. No matter what she had to hear what he had to say.

"(Yes, I'm certain,)" Ritsuko speaks slowly, forcing Iori to translate, "(you were a solider.)"

As the words flowed through Ritsuko's mouth in Japanese, and Iori's through English, the realization that her manager was telling the truth immediately dawned. That simple statement made a great deal of sense. His build, his tidy apartment, the way he walks, his boots, how he praised the US Marine Corps, to how he reacted when asked by that Colonel where he served. Iori didn't understand how she couldn't have seen it before. Others certainly had. Serving in the military meant you had to be prepared to take a life, and also maybe lose your own. Iori didn't believe this was shameful. Others might, but she doesn't. So why couldn't she shake this unease? If anything she should be able to accept this past, yet why is she still so scared?

"That's right. I was a solider."

"(You American soliders are all the same, nothing but a bunch of hired murderer! You trample around the globe, act like everyone has to answer to you, and shoot and kill whoever you like! I've seen them in Japan, how they trickle off base, go out and get drunk, and wreck everything around them. They'll get in fights, brag about all the people they've killed, and they're completely disrespectful to Japanese women. They're nothing more than a bunch of murderous barbarians! You aren't any different!)"

Ritsuko kept repeating the word "murder." Japan doesn't have an army, only the Self Defense Force who's sole task is to defend. Most born in that peaceful country don't understand that some times you have to fight for that peace. Iori has seen it in Iraq, Sudan, Somalia, Syria, the Tibetan repression in China. Those who never leave their safe shell of a country sometimes can't even see evil when it's presented right in front of them. Not to defend those crimes that the American military commits by the hands of unruly individuals, but a time does come when action must be taken. Yet, the idea of Jordan being former military frightened her when it shouldn't. His sorrowful eyes, filled with guilt, are hiding an even darker secret.

"You're right, I'm not any different. I've killed people, a lot of people." His face underwent a frightening transformation. His eyes drop, all the muscles in his face relax, tension leaves his body. At that moment his emotions are killed. There is no fear, no anger, and there is none of that joviality which Iori so sorely missed. He didn't even look human. He was like a doll. "I've even killed women and children."

Iori couldn't translate anymore. Jordan's admission weaved a concoction in her throat and she couldn't speak. She could barely breath. Tears roll down her face as everything she thought she knew about the man shatters. A lie, a lie, it was all a lie. His words can speak only the truth, so she knew this wasn't a cruel joke or a bad dream. This was a living nightmare.

Seeing her companion's devastated state, Azusa rushes to Iori's side and holds her. The eldest of the idols doesn't know what he'd just said, but by all accounts she knew it wasn't good. Ami, who heard the words being translated but perhaps didn't completely understand them, could only meekly approach her elder and offer support. Richie was forced to finish translating.

Like a thunderbolt, his words effect everyone who hears them. Ritsuko, who harbored along with her hate and small fear, was now utterly terrified. Her feet were frozen to the ground and a cold sweat quickly began to drench her body. What stood before her was no longer a man or even a brute, but a monster, one who could snap at any sudden movement and rip her body to shreds. Every ounce of regret she should have felt are now suffocating her. It was worse then she imagined; she never should have pried; she has just opened Pandora's Box and all the evils from within have escaped. How long had she trained in martial arts, and now it seemed so utterly useless. She thought she was protecting her idols, that if push came to shove she could throw her own body into the mix. There was even a time when she acted as a police woman. But now she realizes she lacks the steeled temperament to stand before a greater foe. She's just a fake, a fake who can't act when it's most important. This entity known as Jordan Huntsman, he exposes all her weaknesses.

He approaches. Marching past Iori with the stride of a stalking lion, he heads directly towards Ritsuko. Azusa, sensing mortal danger, quickly darts between the two, shielding her immobile manager. His focus turns to her. Stopped by this barricade, he doesn't press his advance. To the one who was courageous, he retrieves from his pocket and places the contents in her hand. It was the car keys.

After that he says nothing and walks away.

Wow, wasn't that a kick in the gut. This chapter turned out a bit darker than I originally planned, but hey, when a story has legs...Now I imagine you readers have your own thoughts about the US Military, and I have mine as well, but so do the character in this story, and their's are what's reflected in my writing. Ritsuko's dislike is perhaps my biggest leap in my story, cause I'm not entirely sure how her character would react in this situation. I do know, however, that she isn't afraid to use force, but I don't know about lethal force. Well, if this story was all flowers and rainbows, it wouldn't have been written by me.

This marks the climax of the Jordan subplot, but there is still plenty of story left. By my estimate, we're about 2/3 through. For a few chapters the focus will be put squarely on this Original Character, and all the secrets he's hiding, but after that we'll be entering the final arc. The time of the concert is rapidly approaching, ARE YOU READY?

~Kyle Castorena