Chapter 20

Growth

After what happened, there was nothing more that could be done. The energy and spirit from Ryuuguu Komachi had been completely drained. So much had been dedicated to Jordan's plan that with him gone everything fell apart. Dawn was approaching and several good hours remain in the day, but with this mood nothing constructive would be accomplished. Richie was forced to drive them home, and after arriving at the hotel, called it a day.

Only silence could accommodate their suite after what they've just been through. All four girls sat in the living room simply waiting for someone to say something. The problem was, there was nothing that could be said. Their whole purpose for coming to Las Vegas was their concert, but at this moment not a single thought was directed at this goal. Everything that happened on the North side of town kept repeating itself in all their heads.

"(I'm going to lay down,)" Ritsuko was first to break the silence.

However, no one acknowledges her, and she removes herself as if she were completely ignored.

Who should have been least effected by Jordan's absence were Azusa and Ami. To them his presence should have been the least significant. Tonight, tomorrow, and the day after should go on without him here. To them, his role was that of a guide, someone who could point out all the shortcuts and safely deliver them to their destination. However, that didn't mean they couldn't make it without him at the helm. Ritsuko must have seen him as a bit of a rival, and frankly, while they were in this place he was her better. By tomorrow she should come out of her slump, and there was little doubt she wouldn't. The problem was Iori. It was hard for the two girls to understand exactly what the older man meant to her, but it was clear his departure was a critical blow. Would she be able to recover in time for the concert? And if not, what should they do?

Iori sat lifelessly on the sofa leaning to one side. The swelling from her crying had lessened, and in an hour's time it'd be completely gone. Now she was inorganic and still, almost like a mannequin. If it wasn't for the weak motions of her chest from her breathing, one would never know she was alive. There was no way a person like this could jump on stage and sing in 24 hours.

Ami, more than anyone, was fidgeting as she wants to say something, but there were no words of which she was capable to say that would move Iori's heart. The young girl wishes her sister were here. The Ami/Mami combination could help lift anyone's mood, but divided they were less then half of what they were together. Completely helpless, she was resigned to silence.

Slightly could Azusa relate to the mood of her younger idol companion, but this situation was very unique. At a simply glance Iori looks as if she were just dumped by her boyfriend, but the complexity of reality made her emotions twisted and distorted. While Azusa was still in college, before debuting as an idol, there was more then a time or two where she stayed with a friend to help them cope with relationship troubles (and in college, there were hardly any trouble other than that), but those experiences now seemed insignificant in comparison. How exactly Iori viewed Jordan, Azusa wasn't completely sure, but she knew the same type of talk with her college friends wouldn't work.

"(What should we do?)" Ami whispers to Azusa.

The eldest didn't know for sure, but she knew this silence couldn't continue. Before forming Ryuuguu Komachi, the three idols that made the group weren't exactly close friends. They were coworkers and generally got along well with each other, but not all relationships at 765 Productions were created equal. Iori's closest friend within the company was Yayoi, and that probably wouldn't change no matter with whom the downcast idol would be paired. If that energetic, tiny little girl were here she could definitely improve on this situation, but she wasn't and they would have to do without.

If there was anything for certain, they need to get Iori talking. Amongst Ryuuguu Komachi, the closest to the Minase heiress was Ritsuko. Iori has much respect towards the working woman, but she was a big part of the girl's inner conflict. Also had she removed herself from their presence. Thus the role fell upon Azusa, even if she didn't know the best route to take. The woman takes a deep breath and gathers her courage.

"(Iori,)" she calls, not exactly sure what she's going to say next, "(how did you feel about Huntsman-san?)"

There was no answer, but that might have been because the girl herself didn't know. Iori shared what happened with Jordan when she was lost, but she might not have shared everything. Without knowing for certain, Azusa had to be careful not to make any assumptions. That being the case, there was little option for her.

"(When I first saw him,)" Azusa continues, "(I thought he was a very dashing man. Actually, I was taken back a little bit. As you grow older, the issue of age becomes less and less of a concern. He seemed like someone who was very capable of taking care of someone else, and I still don't think I was wrong. But he was kind of hard to approach. The language barrier was a part of it, but mostly it was because he hardly ever looked my way. When you grow up a little bit more, you'll learn about it too. The way some men look at you changes. That change is because they are 'interested.' I didn't sense any of that from Huntsman-san. It felt like he didn't care what I thought. I'm a big girl and I've had that happen before. Actually, it happens a lot, ha. So I felt it was okay if I just left him alone and let him do his own thing, but then he shaved his beard and said it was because he thought we were frightened of him. It felt like he wasn't 'interested' but he cared how I felt about him. I was a bit confused, so I-)"

"(He called you 'beautiful' when he first saw you.)"

Azusa and Ami were shaken by the sudden interruption. For the first time in an hour's time, Iori spoke. For the most part she was still like a doll, but some of the color in her face returned and she was much more alive. This was a good thing that Azusa was doing.

"(Really? Then he was just merely flattering me, because there was nothing in his eyes that would have made me believe he was being serious.)"

This causes a major reaction in Iori. From her position she turns to look at Azusa, her expression confused.

"(What do you mean he wasn't being serious? You are very beautiful.)"

It wasn't surprising that she would think that. Azusa was well aware that her height and proportions gathered a many of stares, but beauty was in the eye of the beholder. To explain this to the teenage adolescent, all she could think to say was,

"(Then I guess I'm not his type.)"

Life completely returned to Iori's profile. Turning away, she needs some time to process this new information.

Now wasn't the time to press that issue, so Azusa returns to her original point she was going to make, "(When he shaved his beard, I felt very guilty. He was trying to appease us and make us more comfortable, but he felt like he failed. I wanted to do something to try and make it up to him, but we could never get on the same page. I guess in the end neither of us could understand one another.)"

"(What do you think his type is?)"

Azusa smiles. There was no way the woman could answer that question, and actually, Iori should have known what type herself. It was because she asked that Azusa could make a guess,

"(Well, Ryuuguu Komachi is a pretty diverse group with completely different personalities. We now know I'm not his type.)"

"(And I don't think I am either,)" Ami has been itching for an opportunity to chime in.

Azusa nods and continues, "(As for Ritsuko, well, I actually think they hate each other. But I guess that puts her closer then Ami or me. Though if I absolutely had to say, it would be-)"

Looking towards Ami, Azusa receives a nod. They both say,

"(You.)"

Iori's face light's up like a Christmas tree. From ear-to-ear does her blood paint her face red. If this room was a few degrees cooler, they might even be seeing steam rise from her head. Her mouth hangs open as if she's trying to deny the accusation, but no words escape.

Azusa accomplished her mission. Iori's previous mood of gloom completely disappeared. However, even as she was now the young idol was still incapable of singing at the best of her ability. That hole in her spirit still needs to be filled. Actually, Azusa didn't believe she could find the answer to that. Only Iori could determine what to make of her own emotions.

"(What do you think of what Huntsman-san told us?)"

In the condition that Iori was in now she was capable of thinking rationally and not letting her emotions control her.

"(He wasn't lying. He really has done terrible things. But,)" for a moment, she hangs on her words.

"(There must have been a reason?)" Azusa tries to finish Iori's thought.

"(He's terribly ashamed of his past. He hates it, and he hates himself. Jordan never wanted us to know what he's done. When Ritsuko called him a murderer, he was terrified.)"

There's more she's feeling but not saying. Iori hangs her head as if she's thinking deeply. Azusa believes her younger companion is struggling to make a decision. Whatever choice she makes, it's paramount that they respect her resolution. Iori may be a very different person after this.

But she still seems to be teetering.

"(I wonder if it's easier for someone else to tell your special destined person, than it is for yourself.)"

"(What?)"

"(Nothing. Just talking to myself.)"

Azusa backs away, catching the curious glare of Ami. She smiles, signaling to the youngest idol "it's okay." Iori, as she is now, is capable of making up her mind.

Five minutes pass after their conversation, and her hesitation has been completely dismissed. Iori stands, swiftly and upright, hands balled into fists, and her head high. For a moment she's still, but then nods to herself. She turns and faces her friends, her long hair graciously swinging behind her. A bold aura envelopes her.

She declares, "(I'm going to see him.)"

Azusa pushed her to make a decision, now she must play devil's advocate.

"(Are you sure? Huntsman-san is an outed and admitted killer. Don't you think it'll be dangerous?)"

This question must have been expected, because Iori doesn't even flinch. Swiftly she turns and reaches for her bag. From it she retrieves a metallic-looking item. It's rectangular in shape, has brass ends on both sides, and polished wood center. Operating the central steel component, it unfolds into a long and distinct shape. It's a knife.

Azusa and Ami both flinch at the sight of the weapon. The bearer simply smiles upon it warmly.

"(When he decided to help me, he gave me this. He said it was for my protection from him. To him, there is no person more dangerous than him. He simply can't accept that he's a good person. The regret he feels is suffocating him, stifling him. I think subconsciously he wanted me to use it. He wanted me to hurt him. He wanted to be hurt. If not for my sake, I need to go for his. He needs to know that it's okay to let it go, that he's a great person and he doesn't need to suffer anymore.)"

Eyes wide with disbelief, Azusa mutters, "(Iori, you-)"

"(I have to go.)" Iori's eyes are strong and determined, without a hint of hesitation or unease. At this moment she looks a decade older than she really is; a beautiful, strong, and mature woman. It makes even Azusa feel inferior.

Stunned, it takes a few seconds before the woman can compose herself and respond, "(What about Ritsuko?)"

"(I'll handle it.)"

And there was no doubt in her words. Nothing in the young girl's profile could be opposed. An air of virtue and authority that rivaled that of kings was wrapped around Iori's mantle. A knight, a crusader, a king, her presence right now encompassed all of these ideals. An army couldn't stop her right now. Azusa could only nod and give her approval, though the woman felt it was unnecessary.

Iori took this gesture graciously, and turns towards the bedroom. Inside the curtain is drawn and very little light leaks through. It's dark, but not enough so that the girl can't find her manager resting upon her bed. Ritsuko's removed her glasses and let her hair down. Most didn't know this, but the young manager and former idol actually has wavy hair, but she always has it cut short and tied up so it's unnoticeable. Laying down like this, unkempt and defenseless, she actually looks her young age of 19.

"(I'm going,)" Iori simply states in the darkness.

There is a moment of silence, but then, "(Do you remember when we first met?)"

"(Yes Ritsuko-san. I don't remember what about, but I was complaining about something. You lambasted to the point I was crying.)"

Still unmoving from her position, "(It's been two years since then. So much has changed. You might not have grown much taller, but you've grown tremendously. I on the other hand, I don't know. I quit being an idol because I wanted to be a Producer, and I don't regret my decision, but every once in a while a wonder what it would be like if I was still on stage instead of behind the scenes. So much of my time is dedicated to producing Ryuuguu Komachi that I hardly have any time for myself. What would be different? Would I be different? But that man has nothing but time, being able to follow someone he just met as much as he wants, and his thoughts and ideas were all better than mine. It's frustrating! Have all my dedication and hard work been for nothing? I hate this!)"

"(And what about all his hard work and dedication?)"

This question catches Ritsuko off-guard, and she leans up from the bed, questioning.

"(Do you know how much pain and suffering he's endured to make it where he is? I can't say anything though, because I don't know.)" Iori then joins Ritsuko on the bed. "(But I can tell he knows pain and suffering. It's written all over his face. Don't think he simply waltzed in a made a fool of you. He's pushed himself, pushed so hard that I'm sure he's limping. Despite that, he's extending a helping hand. You can't judge him just because your frustrated with yourself. True wisdom begins when you admit you don't know everything. Don't let your pride blind you. All of us have room to grow. Perfect is impossible.)"

Sarcastically Ritsuko turns away and laughs, "(When did you start talking so big?)"

"(I can only talk big because of you.)"

Shocked, Ritsuko turns back and stares into Iori's large, clear eyes. The young idol takes her hand.

"(Because of you, and everyone else I met. You can learn a lot from books and studying in school, but there are things you can only do because you've met other people. I think you should meet Jordan. The Jordan I've met is a wonderful person, despite his past, and I'm going to drag him back here no matter what.)"

"(Iori,)" her words are hesitating, "(are you serious?)"

"(Yes.)" Gently she pulls her hands away and lifts herself from the bed. "(I'm going.)"

"(You can't!)" she states with vigor, but that energy quickly depletes as she continues. "(You can't.)"

There wasn't a response. It was somewhat cruel, but there wasn't a need for one. It was clear who between the two was in the position of power. Determination was Iori's alone, and Ritsuko had no choice but to let go. Does a father feel this way when their daughter tells him she's getting married? A little girl can only be a little girl for so long, and then they grow up to be a woman.

"(Be safe,)" was as close as Ritsuko could get to giving her blessing.

Iori's smile was bright, but her eyes still determined, "(Thank you.)"