Characters are owned and created by Yoshiki Nakamura. Story is my own. Apologies for long delay in update-had a serious case of writer's block.
"Before I sign anything, I want to know exactly how this is supposed to work," Sho said. He was sitting at a large conference room table, between Daisuke and some L.M.E. lackey, one leg pressed against the table top as he balanced on the rear legs of his chair. Unease practically oozed from his every pore–if strummed, he'd squawk louder than a poorly tuned guitar.
The L.M.E. representative frowned and took a swallow from the glass of water in front of him. "Well, I'm afraid that's the issue Fuwa-san. We can't tell you yet."
Sho let his chair drop. The men flanking him flinched.
"It's based on your results. Each experience is uniquely catered to the individual. There's an entire algorithm devoted to the process."
He'd spent the last three hours being poked and prodded and evaluated mentally and physically so he could participate in whatever quasi-reality TV show these crackpots had cooked up.
With an eccentric like Lory Takarada, you never knew. Sho recalled how the man had shown up at an awards show once looking like an elf fresh off a Lord of the Rings set. Another public appearance had seen the L.M.E. president costumed in a furry orange striped bodysuit complete with face paint, long whiskers, fuzzy ears and a twitching tail. That one had been particularly unnerving as it had reminded the musician of a brain-melting musical some model had dragged him to a couple years back.
After enduring all the testing, his head felt about the same–mush–and his patience had the consistency of rice paper.
This is going nowhere.
"Okay–" Sho started.
His manager cut him off.
"That's fine," Daisuke said, directing a syrupy sweet smile at the L.M.E. staff member. "Fuwa-san has already agreed to participate fully to satisfy the terms of his contract with Akatoki. He'll do whatever needs to be done." The manager shifted his gaze to Sho. "Won't you?"
He couldn't refuse–participation in this show had been his idea, one borne of desperation. Only now, he wished he hadn't been so hasty.
"Yeah," Sho replied, sinking down into his seat. It can't be that bad, can it?
He forced himself to leaf through the documents, pen in hand. No, it could. The agreement gave the Watch Me! executives near carte blanche over his life for up to seventy-two hours. Oh, but at least he'd have a reprieve between the hours of midnight to 6am. Guess they didn't want their cameras turning into pumpkins, especially the bodycam.
He was so screwed. The verbage felt intentionally ambiguous and everything he'd learned, or rather, not learned, led him to one conclusion: it was a set up.
"Anything goes?" Sho asked. A parade of humiliating scenarios began marching before his eyes.
After years of biding her time, this was it–Kyoko's ultimate revenge. She truly was a demonic succubus working for a Devil named Lory Takarada at Lory's Ministry of Evil. I need to salvage this as best I can.
"Because there are some things I refuse to do–like go near a toilet." Self-cleaning models had been installed in his condo unit. "And what, I'm just supposed to do whatever I'd normally do and shit will magically," he waved his fingers dramatically through the air, "happen?"
"Say," a deep voice interrupted in strangely accented English.
Sho startled and swiveled his head towards the sound.
A man in a fitted 3-piece suit of black and eyeball-singeing pink chalk stripes had materialized out of thin air, puffing on a thick cigar. He was clean shaven and wearing a deep purple paisley patterned tie clipped to a long gold chain that disappeared into his jacket pocket. An orange-tipped tommy gun was in his right hand.
That cursed pink…but there's no facial hair. Could it be…?
"That's what showbiz is, see," the man continued as he moved towards the table. He adjusted his black wide-brimmed fedora and grinned at Sho, revealing perfectly white square teeth.
"We make it look like magic," the mustacheless Lory Takarada said in Japanese. Only one man could–or would–pull off that color. "Even to knowledgeable participants, Fuwa-san."
A mobster in pink wasn't too far from a devil.
Daisuke and the other man rose from their seats and bowed to the President, offering their greetings.
Sho gave a shallow bow from his seat. His nerves were already shot and looking at that atrocity of a suit made them feel more like live wires.
"Nice get-up Takarada-san. I almost mistook you for one of your Love Me minions."
Out of the corner of his eye, Sho saw Daisuke's face turn a deeper red than the allergen filling in last night's birthday cake.
He jumped up, bumping the table. Water sloshed from the cups. "You've gone too far! You cannot speak that way to–"
Lory raised his hand, silencing the manager. Sho watched the water seep into his papers.
"While there are certainly some pleasant aspects to being a peacock–," the President quirked an eyebrow at Sho, "–or even a lion in a zoo, it is far more satisfying to be Director."
Sho sat up straighter in his chair. Where does this guy get off calling me a peacock?
Lory strolled past them, coming to a stop across the table where he took a seat. Sho watched as he puffed lightly on his cigar and closed his eyes, letting the smoke linger in his mouth before releasing it in a plume.
The scent of spiced wood and tobacco filled the air.
Lory's eyes snapped open. "It is good to be the Boss, Fuwa-san."
"I bet." Sho couldn't keep the scowl off his face. "You don't get roped into ridiculous situations." He stared at the hideous streaks. "Or costumes–unless, of course, that's your thing."
"A significant portion of the population considers the attire of a visual kei band member ridiculous."
Sho's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Touché."
Daisuke shot Sho a death glare. "I apologize for my charge's rudeness," he said to Lory, bowing low. "In his youth, he tends to forget his place."
Lory offered the man a pleasant smile, waving the apology away, keeping his dark eyes fixed on Sho. Under the weight of the man's scrutiny, the musician felt his bravado crack.
What am I doing? Shit, I keep making everything worse.
Urge to give the guy in glasses a black eye notwithstanding, Lory Takarada and his staff had been nothing but welcoming and pleasant throughout the process. Sho sucked in a breath, pushed his chair back and bowed an apology before returning to his seat.
"Now that we're finished exchanging pleasantries and lessons in humility," Lory directed his gaze at the LME staff member, "Shinji, please bring another set of documents for Fuwa-san to sign since his set seems to have met with an unfortunate drowning accident."
Lory shifted his focus to Sho's manager. "Daisuke-san, I'd like to speak with Fuwa-san alone for a bit."
"Of course," said Daisuke. He swiftly rose and followed Shinji out the door.
Lory plucked the cigar from his mouth and set it on the table. "A frog in a well knows nothing of the great sea. Are you familiar with this idiom?"
Sho crossed his arms. "Other than it being engraved on your invitation, no."
"Beware the limitations of one's own experience," Lory smiled. "This is not a revenge scheme as you suppose Fuwa-san. Wouldn't you agree that Kyoko-chan has achieved her so-called vengeance, and in spectacular fashion? You needn't be on the offensive. Yes, the language is vague, but this is intentional, so that it may cover a broad spectrum of experiences.
"Will some of these take you out of your comfort zone? Certainly, but that is precisely the point.
You are stuck, just like the frog. To spark your creativity you need to see and experience outside the walls."
"Fine, so it's not a set up. Look, Takarada-san, I've held three world tours–I've been almost everywhere on this rock. My horizons are plenty broad."
"Then why are you trapped?"
"Because–" began Sho, but words turned to ash before they could roll off his tongue.
"Fuwa-san, you are a prisoner in more than one way."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"By the end of this show, you will understand." The smile that appeared on Lory's face looked more wicked than benevolent. "I promise."
A/N Thank you for reading! Comments/reviews are appreciated!