Chapter 6
Walking through the crowds of people in Akihabara, I was starting to rethink my choice to come here on a weekend. It was so crowded on Saturdays, but it wasn't like I had any other days to go. My only real free day during the week was Sunday, and that ended up being eaten up by laundry, church, drawing, and lightsaber practice, so I had taken off work at my part-time job at Enterprise for today just to make the trip and give myself a full recreational weekend to enjoy. After the fallout between my mother and I this morning when she did her self-mandated check to see if I was awake and saw the aftermath of Hurricane Alyssa, that had been the only saving grace to leave the house. If Jo-Elle hadn't asked off for an art show, I would probably wouldn't have gotten away with a day off and escape my mother's wrath. Of course, as a result, I now had dozens of hours to kill before I could go back home. Lucky for me, there were a ton of ways for me to kill time in Akihabara.
I had spent the first the first couple of hours camped out in the foreign books section inside Tsutaya Books, the Barnes & Nobles of Japan, indulging in a box of green tea mochi while reading manga and a few books written in English to pass the time. Yet another plus from skipping out on work, as this place was usually closed by 2pm, well past the point in time I normally left either of my jobs. After inevitably adding another Hero Academy volume to my growing collection, I walked down the road of maid and butler cafes on my way to the otaku center hub. I reasoned that if I was hungry later, I would stop by one of them and finally see what all the fuss was about.
I'd loitered outside them way beyond the socially acceptable amount, trying to convince myself to go inside one for months, though I had never fully mustered the courage to do so. Thoughts of my embarrassing high school weeaboo phase gave me such intense feelings of chuunibyo that echoes of it in the present caused me to pull the drawstrings of my Oswald the Lucky Rabbit hoodie closed out of utter shame. Even if it was more socially acceptable to go to one in this country and I was free to let my freak-flag fly by being alone and away from the judging eyes of my peers, the moment I was approached on the street by a young man in a tailcoat, I froze like a deer in headlights.
"Care to join us for tea? We've been expecting you, my lady," a smooth talking Sebastian Michaelis type character asked with a soft baritone to match. My one true weakness: a confident boy with bass. I felt my face grow hot while my inner goddess purred at the enticing voice and fancy butler get up, melting into a puddle of goo with every word. Somehow the street vendors and salesmen always targeted me for some reason and I, being the polite, confrontationally-challenged person that I was, had struggled greatly when it came to saying no, not wanting to impolite by ignoring them. Why did this always have to happen to me?
"Uh- umm (n-no thank you!)," I choked on the guilt, accidentally slipping back into my native tongue before I repeated it back in Japanese. "I mean, sorry! Not today! I'm meeting someone soon!"
I feel insane, I think there's something wrong inside my brain, I can't explain, I just want to run away, my iPod sang in my ears as I lied through my teeth, deciding I would try and muster up my courage again another day. I took the specials flier from him anyways, feeling the urge to bury myself inside my hoodie like a turtle and disappear forever, and started cranking up the volume to muffle the sound of outside world. At least this time, I would have a legitimate excuse for walking past them and not hearing them. That's what I told myself, anyways. Anything to silence the nagging guilt.
Once the Akihabara Radio Kaikan building came into view, a sense of calm and an excited rush of nostalgia fell over me as I was greeted by familiar sights as seen on Steins;Gate, an anime slash visual novel based in Akihabara, one that I had played slash watched most ardently- for research purposes, of course, though a small part of me would be lying in saying that I didn't love the creative writing, drama, and suspense. It was fun experiencing the real life places seen on TV. It made it more real and less like a fantasy, and made me feel a part of their world rather than a spectator behind a glass screen. Furthermore, what really brought out my inner fan-girl was what it contained inside.
If strolling through Akihabara was like stepping into an anime, then going into the Radio building was like walking into an anime convention. Merchandise of all genres of anime and video-games were spread across ten delicious floors, each dedicated to a specific type of good, an otaku's fondest dream. It was my favorite place in the whole wide world. I could bury myself for hours in the gaming department alone, but I had a goal today and I would see to it that my mission would be complete before falling to the temptation of distraction. Switching my playlist to something more with a beat, I confidently marched into the shop listening to an arrangement of the Jedi Temple March crossed with the Imperial March from Star Wars, appropriate considering the goal in mind. The Samuel Kim cover made me feel like a queen among my people as I stepped on and off the escalator with a boost of confidence while I traveled somewhere around the eighth or seventh floor.
Rows upon rows of figures and collector's items were on display, both in glass cases and on the shelves. Disney, anime, video-games, TV dramas, it didn't matter. If it existed, chances were that there was a figure of it in Akihabara. Please still be here... please still be for sale... was my urgent plea as I became lost in the maze of anime figures.
"I'm lost in the sound, roaming downtown, going around, feeling down down," I hummed aloud, the lyrics from before persisting, determined to be my ear-worm for the day against my will even above the power of John Williams' score. Going to the shelf around one twisty corner, I saw with utter delight that my brooding bae was still on display, eagerly waiting for me to take him home. The Star Wars Nenderoid stood stoic at an intimidating ten centimeters tall- almost four inches the pedantic in me calculated. If I wasn't convinced I was going to name one of my kids Ben because of this franchise, I was now. The figure was even cuter in person and well worth the wait. Admiring his minute stature and anime goodness, my eyes drifted towards the price tag by his feet and was unable to fight off the cringe that came with it. ¥17,800. Even if I could afford it, oh Kylo Ren, why must something so small and cute like yourself be so expensive?
Not wanting to wait a moment longer, I snatched him from the shelf and stuffed him into my Happy Bunny shopping tote for later. Not wanting to leave the floor quite yet, I began perusing the shelves and took pictures of figures I thought were cool but couldn't afford- it was my method of checking of whether I truly wanted the item later when the novelty wore off or if it was just impulsive, in-the-moment infatuation and fear that it would be gone later. Despite my desire to buy Kylo Ren, I wasn't a figure collector. At least, that's what I thought.
When I came across a section of the store dedicated to pro-heroes, I began snapping pics of my favorites that I thought were cool in design but vastly overpriced. Moving past another shelf of hero memorabilia, a flash of green grabbed my attention. Sitting in the back of one shelf, pushed behind dozens of more well known heroes, was my mint bunny superhero, the one I had taken reference shots of on the subway. I tried to read what the hero was named, but the words were written in Japanese katakana, a form I still struggled with when it came to written translations. What was that character written on the box? De...ru? Ku? Dekiru? No that couldn't be right. Too many syllables, plus that sounded like the words for "you can," wasn't it? Was I translating that right? Ugh, my Japanese reading skills were still complete garbage. Why couldn't it been in hiragana or better yet English like most figures on display?
This figure, whatever his name was, though chained down with a plastic alarm lock was able to be picked up as I reached out for him. It felt cool and smooth against my fingertips as I traced them over the intricate details of the armor and mask. Spikes of green hair peaked out from the torn cowl, partially revealing a determined face underneath. It was love at first sight. There was no question or doubt in my mind. I had to have it! How much was he? Glancing at the price and mentally calculating yen into American dollars, I realized with a burst of glee that I could afford him at such a steal of basically ¥2700 without breaking bank.
In an instant, all the reasons why otakus bought overly priced anime figures were made clear as I snapped a picture and wrote down his number for the salesclerk in my Harujuku Girls notebook for good measure and began my search. There had to be more of him, right? Even if I didn't know his name, I knew what he looked like and that he was a hero with the written characters "デ" and "ク." That could at least narrow down my search a little. With an extra swing in my step, I sang happily, "someone save, save me, save, save me," before a person blocked the narrow pathway to the gatcha-machines. He was short like most people I had encountered, probably coming up to my nose in height, and was having a particularly difficult time in reaching an All Might figure on the top shelf. Using my height to its full advantage, I decided to 'save, save him' and stood on my tiptoes, grabbing a box for him from behind.
"Here you go," I said, handing the young man the boxed figurine. I heard something that was probably his gratitude through the music as I smiled amiably back with the intention of going back to my hunt before I heard him shout something indiscernible in my direction. I took out a single earbud. "I'm sorry?"
"Oh. You probably don't remember me. It was kinda brief. Don't worry about it if you can't remember. I'm told I have a rather plain appearance." My face drew a blank. Had I met him before? Was that what he had asked over the hum of Bruno Martini in my ears? You need to pay attention more when people are talking to you, Alyssa, echoed my mother's voice.
The longer that I took him in, the more I realized he did in fact look familiar. He wore a Lemillion letterman jacket and acid-wash jeans, and had messy green-black hair, though what really did it for me was his freckles: I had never seen them take on a diamond pattern before. Normally I struggled with giving people eye contact, but I found myself drawn to the near symmetrical patterns of freckles on his cheeks and the emerald eyes above them that were an impossible green. They reminded me of shimmering turquoise stones, my favorite color.
"You're not plain. I remember you, Freckles. You helped me with the fulcrum word the other day. Your name, it was... ummm..." And that was about where my memory started to falter. I had an incredibly selective memory recall. I could remember that a mantis shrimp could see in twelve different colors and recite the entire Beauty and the Beast movie by heart, but not remember a person's name. Come on, Alyssa. It's got to be in there somewhere...
"It's okay if you don't remember-"
"No wait, give me a minute. I swear it's not you, it's me... and I promise that I'm not just saying that. I am terrible when it comes to names and faces. If it wasn't for voice acting, I'm sure I would never recognize anybody. Just... give me a minute." I crossed my arms and ruminated over what I could remember about him. Fulcrum... Freckles... Okay a good start, but not his name. I've got to stop referring to him as 'Freckles.' You're going to be giving people names again and he probably doesn't like the nickname anyways. Okay. Focus! He has green hair... green... Green, emerald, turquoise. Pretty. No! Stay focused! Green... Green in Japanese is 'midori'... Midori... Midori-ya...? Midoriya.. Izu... Izuku!
"Izuku, right? Izuku Midoriya?" Judging by how his face lit up, I had pulled out the correct name.
"Yes! You got it!" the young man named Izuku said with mild excitement and clenched fists. "I can't believe you remembered my name..." Neither can I. That was some trip through the memory banks for some rando I only met once...
"Oh shoot, I forgot! People here don't like to be called by their first name unless they're close with each other," I felt my cheeks grow hot, committing such a rookie mistake. Shame on you, Alyssa. Your otaku friends would be ashamed. "I'm sorry if I've offended you. Do you want me to call you Midoriya or... would you rather prefer to let me stick to calling you 'freckles'?"
"Uhh well... Izuku is... fine, I guess but..." he trailed off, looking down towards his feet. Why was he being shy all of a sudden? Had I offended him that much that he was just being nice?
"But what?"
"I don't know your name. I mean, I know your name is... is A-Alyssa but-"
"Oh, did I not tell you my last name? I'm sorry. I'm not really used to introducing myself like that. Most people don't know my last name unless it's on a name-tag. Well then, let's do this all official like-" I did a slight curtsy my sister would have labeled as being dramatic and stuck out my hand, "-Alyssa Blake, at your service." Izuku paused mid-bow before he extended his hand and grasped it around mine. He had a nice grip, though I noticed it was a bit bigger and bonier than I had expected, more crooked than a normal hand. I eyed the jagged scar crossing halfway over the back of his right hand and thought about bringing it up but decided against it. Nice to know my rude filter was still somewhat functional.
"It's nice to meet you, Alyssa Blake," he smiled, mispronouncing my last name as 'bureiku.'
"It's pronounced Buh-lake."
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." Laughter that was scarily similar to my mother's belted out of me as I took the mispronunciation in stride.
"It's fine. I'm used to it. At least you got my first name right. You can call me by that, if it's easier for you."
"O-Okay sure. I'm just sorry that you have to make concessions for me. I wanted to get it right the first time, but my English accent isn't the greatest."
"Don't worry about it. Neither is mine. Pretty sure I end up sounding Scottish or Cockney half the time."
"Wait, so you're not American?"
"No, I am."
"Oh! But wait, but you said you have a bad English accent, but you're from America and have a good accent then..." he trailed off, looking very lost.
"Sorry, that was my lame attempt at a joke. Usually, where I'm from, if someone says you're doing an English accent, it's means your doing an accent from England. I was just... jumping off of that- anyways! Nevermind, forget I said anything. Bad joke."
"Okay. So uhh, where are you from? In America, I mean."
"A small town called Mooresville in the great, Midwestern state of Indiana."
"Whoa, that's far! What brings you here?"
I gave him a coy smile. "Like here in the department store or here like Japan?"
"Umm both?"
"Well for one, I'm here to kill time and because I can finally afford this bad boy," I held up said bad boy, who appeared disgruntled inside the plastic box. "And the other because I live here."
"In Japan?"
"No, in the store." I spoke in deadpan sarcasm that would have made my college roommate proud before giggling at his flustered expression. "Yes, Japan." I smiled inwardly. He was very fun to mess with. I found myself conflicted, torn between wanting to tease him mercilessly and give him cookies afterwards. In a word, he was cute and that made me want to tease him more.
Not wanting to be mean and scare him off, I tried to reign it back as he asked, "Have you always lived here or are you here studying abroad?"
"No I'm mostly here for healthcare related reasons. My family and I decided to make the big move here about a year or so ago," I explained, keeping the official details out of the conversation. The subject was way too heavy to spring on someone I had just met, and I was sick of the looks of pity I received the moment I mentioned it. "But enough about me. What about you? What brings you here?"
"I came here because I wanted to see if they had the new, limited edition All Might figure in silver." I eyed the box that was in his hands.
"Yeah, I think you mentioned that you were an All Might fan, now that I think about it," I mused back on the conversation we had on heroes and various notes we had collected on the subject days earlier. Speaking of which... "Hey Izuku?"
"Y-Yes?"
"You've done a ton of research on heroes. Do you have anything written in your notebooks on a green bunny superhero?"
"A green bunny superhero?" The switch from feeble to profound was almost immediate as he pinched his lower lip between his crooked fingers. "Hmmm... no I don't think so. Are you sure you aren't talking about Mirko?"
"No, this guy was definitely male." Darn, back to the drawing board.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's for..." I began before I stopped myself. This guy didn't need to hear my long-winded explanation for why I wanted to know about a new hero. What if he was a fan? I would come off as a total poser if opened with that, probably insult him more. "...nevermind, it's nothing. I was just curious."
"Okay, well, I'll let you know if I find anything out."
"Please do." A finger tapped my shoulder.
"Excuse me, miss, are you in line to checkout your items?" The cashier chimed in, her tone cordial and polite. I turned my head, oblivious to the dozens of people had lined up behind us.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hold up the line!" I exclaimed. Izuku appeared equally mortified.
"I didn't mean to hold you up."
"No no, I was just-" I began before dropping my shoulders. "-actually, now that you have your figure, do you want to just check out now?"
"Sure. Why not?" Izuku shrugged as we walked towards the counter. I set Kylo Ren on the counter before pulling out my Harujuku notebook to recite the number of the figure I wanted, unaware of Izuku's gaze on my notebook.
"Whoa, those drawings are really good! Did you do them?"
"Err umm... well... yeah, I did. They're not that great though..." I gushed in modesty, feeling the urge to cover them. A ton of them were older drawings from before I had taken college courses that corrected the anatomy of my drawings. Some of them were also a bit more cutesy and intimate, some of it involving me shamelessly shipping myself with more than a few anime characters.
"Are you kidding? Your drawings are amazing! I can tell that you put a lot of time and effort into them."
"Oh... well... thank you," I said, focusing my eyes on a display of Naruto figures.
"Miss?" The cashier repeated, drawing my attention back. After apologizing to her for the delay, I gave her the number and bounced on the balls of my feet in eager anticipation as the shopkeeper retrieved my figure from the back room for purchase. "That'll be ¥20,500." I hissed at the total as I dug out my wallet and swiped my debit card through the machine. After grabbing my shopping bag and my receipt, I noticed Izuku had gone stark white.
"You alright there, Izuku?"
"Y-Yes! Uhh, you're just... getting that figure?"
"Yeah? So?" I cocked an eyebrow at his astonished expression, thinking he was talking about Kylo Ren. "I can afford it. Plus, I think he looks kinda cool."
"R-Really?"
"Yeah. He's pretty cute too. Probably gonna name my kids after him, if I'm being completely honest." Right after having said that, Izuku seemed at a loss for words as his whole face went red, looking like he was about to pass out. "Whoa! Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'M FINE!" he squeaked a little too loudly, not convincing me in the slightest that he was, but I decided to let it go. He quickly purchased his items, fumbling around with the loose ten yen coins in his hand and dropping them several times before getting a hold of himself. You could tell that we were definitely the cashier lady's favorite customers for that day by her blank expression.
"So unless you're planning on sticking around, I'm probably gonna go see if I can find my hero of mystery on some of the higher floors," I explained before I halted in place, "Oh! Before I forget, I need your number so that you can contact me about that hero."
"You... you want my email?"
"Email? Oh that's right. You guys do email here. Umm sure. It's..." I rattled off a few letters of my email address before I just took his phone and typed it in. Way faster. "I also did the liberty of giving you my phone number as well. I'll answer either, but I'm not used to using my email a lot, so if you text me, chances are I'll more likely pick up."
"O-Okay. Thanks." He said before quickly typing a message to send to me so that he had received the right address. The victory theme from Final Fantasy VII buzzed from my pocket as I whipped out my smartphone.
"Great! Now I have your email..." I squinted at the letters, "...midoriyai4961. Anyways, I'm glad you were successful in getting your All Might figure. Have a good one, Izuku Midoriya."
"Y-Yes. It was nice meeting you too, A-Alyssa."
As I stepped away toward the escalator, pondering on which floor I was going to next, I thought of the new friend I had made. Maybe I should have stuck around, but I was going to be going through these floors for hours, and I wouldn't be able to do that if I was distracted. I had done the exact same thing anytime I hung out too long in the manga section of my local Barnes & Noble. I'd see someone going over the various titles and randomly strike up a conversation with them before retreating back to my task. I had never given out my contact information before though. Chances were that he probably wouldn't text me all that often, but that was alright. It's not like I expect him to call me every night like some silly high school girl waiting for her boyfriend to call her back.
I paused mid-step. Wait... did I just get a guy's phone number?
