Work Text:
Belly down on the living room rug, fourteen year old Sano Manjiro had one eye on the television and the other on his maths book. He didn’t think the program was any good but his friends were fans. They talked about nothing else at lunch and he didn’t like being left out of anything, so now he had to watch the damned thing, too. It was a futuristic cop isakai mess of a fantasy jumble that ripped off several better shows, in his opinion, and he soon gave up trying to follow the plot of that night’s episode; his school assignment was due first period and required every brain cell at his disposal to finish it.
He scratched at his blond hair again, further loosening the section of hair he’d pinned back to keep out of his face while he did his homework. He paused to fix it, then mumbled his way through the word problem, finding it as incomprehensible as the first time he read it. He snuck a peek at the end of the book in case the answer key included one for that question. Of course it didn’t. Nobody would design a yard with a pool like this one. He abandoned the problem and read another, finding it no better for solving.
His younger sister, Emma, stepped over him and reached down for the remote. “Hey, I was watching that!” Manjiro complained as she switched stations on him.
“No you weren’t, Mikey,” she retorted, calling him by the nickname he’d picked for himself when she was little. “Show’s over anyway.” She made a solid case so he couldn’t argue with her. “And I finished my homework. Gramps said that I can watch whatever I want now.” Her honey coloured ponytail bounced as she bounced her way over to the sofa and curled up against the armrest, a snack bowl full of prawn crackers set within easy reach.
Mikey watched the opening credits to a program that showcased dozens of smiling faces and excited people gallivanting around a lit stage, overlaid with shots of the audience losing their minds. “Is this the show where those three judges hit the X buttons every time they don’t like the performer?”
“No,” their older brother Shinichrio answered from the opposite end of the couch, looking up from his Bass Player magazine. “You’re thinking of that other show where the three judges hit the X buttons every time they don’t like the performer.”
“Oh, of course. How could I mix them up?” Their sarcastic commentary was on point; so many shows had a cookie cutter element to them, each one copying the successful pieces of another and all of them tried to frame themselves as originals.
“You guys,” Emma whined like she was three instead of thirteen. “Just let me watch!” She loved several so-called “reality” programs but Emma’s favourite this season was the one that aimed to find the next great girl group of pop singers. “It’s the finale and I think the Crystal Belles are gonna win it!” The boys agreed to stop teasing her and Mikey went back to his homework.
At the end of the episode, as the winning Belles cried in each other’s arms, Mikey was surprised to discover he’d gotten no further into his problem solving. He’d watched every minute of the program, inexorably drawn into the drama of the final moments for these girls and a future they had barely considered when they first auditioned. Flashback scenes reminded viewers of their doubts at the start. “We didn’t think we’d win!” One of the girls gushed before collapsing into the arms of her friends again, overwhelmed by the prize, a recording contract for their group.
Then the host announced that the next contest would aim to find the best new boys.
Within the span of forty-five minutes, Mikey’s life changed. Gone was the need to finish his maths homework or follow the exploits of a future cop dropped into a fantasy land with dragons and sea witches. No, all Mikey had now was a deep desire to round up his best looking friends and start practising …
***
The figure seemed suspicious, hiding their face under such a large hoodie. Every effort made to pass notice made it all the more noticeable to one trained in loss prevention.
The loss officer wore no uniform. He cruised the store like a shopper, in jeans and a button down shirt, one basket on his arm. He wandered the aisles like he’d lost track of his wife. In reality, he monitored all the common shoplifting areas, looking for thieves.
It was crazy what people tried to get away with - and did get away with on a daily basis, no matter how many cameras were trained on an area. He knew all the stories of swapping price tags, switching the content of boxes, and the sheer gall of people who could strip a computer tower of everything that made it one and bring it back for a refund because it “doesn’t work.” And get one.
So yes, the loss officer watched the hooded man in the infants wear department, a favourite spot for thieves discarding empty packaging. The officer watched him closely.
Mikey browsed the aisles filled with cute clothes, bright colours mixed with muted ones, and baby toys galore, struck dumb and overwhelmed by choice. What was best to buy?
The undercover employee continued to browse near him, trying to remain unobtrusive. Mikey ignored him. He was used to having eyes on him but his security detail had better training, experience, and pay. The loss officer hadn’t noticed Mucho and Kakucho approaching at all. Mikey left them to it.
The store’s music station was also unobtrusive, barely noticeable over the hum of the busy sales floor full of shoppers on their own missions. But, Mikey had an ear for certain tunes, and rarely did a day go by without him hearing a Toman hit, old or new, get played on a speaker somewhere. There was one now, one from early in their career as performers.
He’d bid the boys of Toman a farewell a few weeks earlier, tired of the lifestyle a group like that required. His friends understood, though Michi went through a few tearful days trying to decide what he should do, leave with Mikey or remain with Baji, Kazutora and Chifuyu and at least attempt to continue as a group. Mikey suggested Michi do the latter; his decision to leave didn’t have to affect their careers, too, though a lot of fans thought Mikey was Toman. Having the group on stage without him would be a struggle until they could find their footing again with their new dynamic. Maybe they wouldn’t find it and each of them would return home in a few months as has-beens, remembered for having been part of something memorable.
Even so, for every memory Mikey had of those years, another was missing. Tour schedules kept him away from his sister’s graduation and her wedding to Ryuguji Ken, the man he once considered his best friend. Recording in studio meant he wasn’t around for the opening day for their music store, nor the start of wanting one. Those years apart meant that Ken’s dream coming true had come as a complete surprise to Mikey when Emma told him about it.
And Shinichiro. Mikey missed all the signs that Shin’s music career stagnated while his star forged a platinum path across the world. Missed seeing how hard Shin worked anyway until Ken shared months worth of demos with him, recordings Shin’s number one fan illicitly caught by a sound system in his music store. Each one showed off Shin’s prowess on the bass guitar, showing Mikey the talent he’d never seen or heard or understood at all during his youth.
Too selfish in his youth.
Mikey ran full throttle towards a future, egged on by parents eager for his money, egged on by a sister who loved him whether he made money or not, while Shin remained behind, the one grounded voice at the centre of an electrical storm of mental chaos brought about by fifteen minutes of fame that transformed into ten years of infamy.
Offering to be Shin’s manager after all that was not nearly enough. Mikey knew that. It was a stepping stone only. He came back home feeling like Shin gave up his future in order to let him have one in his stead. True or not, Mikey felt he had no means of tipping the scales back toward Shin except through his connections.
Mikey hosted a party one night, a casual affair, arranged on a whim. That’s what he told the assembled guests as they mingled with their peers within the industry all evening, sampling the hor'dourves and enjoying the slight buzz from their cocktails. The music chosen for the night was unknown to everyone, a solo blues guitarist, an artist whose skill could not be missed by the listeners.
And they were all curious about it.
When sending the files to Mikey, Draken had apologised for the quality of the edits that he and Mitsuya had of Shin’s impromptu concerts within DeeDee’s Music Supplies; Shin tended to chat while he played, either with the store owners or other customers, so they’d done their best to scrub the voices off the tracks, leaving Shin’s improv work as clear and clean as they could get it.
They were close to perfect and worked perfectly. If anyone asked Mikey who the mystery bass player was, Mikey described him as an independent musician in the music world. If the person asking was a producer or agent, Mikey offered to take their name should they be interested in working with him.
Since the bulk of invited guests were producers and agents, word got around the room quickly as they realised this was the sole reason they were invited. It was like throwing chum at sharks. Across the night, every one of them dropped their names off like they were entering a lottery with a very big payoff should they win.
Mikey wasn’t sure what reaction he liked better, the moment he gave the list of names to Shin, or the moment when he realised that Mikey bought him the bass guitar he’d been coveting. The latter, he decided. Mikey wished he had a camera to capture that shocked disbelief for posterity.
In terms of the recording contract, Mikey knew his brother would take his time with that decision. He’d always been the most level headed of the three Sano kids, being a decade older, and Shin at thirty-four had three other band members that needed a say in their futures, too. Akashi Takeomi, a childhood friend of Shin’s, played piano for the group. His long, slim fingers lent themselves to the gymnastics required for the trickiest pieces and his smoking habit brought a gruff but pleasing sound to their performances. The other two, Imaushi Wakasa and Arashi Keizo, played horn and drums. They were later additions to the duo, met during auditions for session work.
Mikey heard through Emma that Shin and Waka had crossed into couple territory within a few days of setting eyes on one another. Knowing that gave Mikey a happy feeling; Emma used to share other stories about Shin that were less happy, so Mikey looked forward to meeting the one that turned his life around.
“Oh, there you are.” Shin’s joyful voice startled Mikey, lost in his reverie. “Look at these cute little shoes!” Shin wore booties on the fingers of both hands and tapped them together like tiny maracas, following the beat of the pop number barely discernible overhead.
“Emma won’t need those for a while.” Mikey said, then stopped himself, having no actual clue. “Will she?”
“Nah,” Shin shook his head. “We’re better off buying more sleepers, towels and bibs. Babies grow fast and eat often. We don’t know what Emma was like as a baby but I remember you. You didn’t grow much, but you were a pig!”
“Augh,” Mikey snorted, insulted and amused. “Some big brother you are.”
“Only speaking the truth.” Shin gave him a light punch to the shoulder. “Shall we?”
Mikey nodded and selected a handful of pastel outfits and bibs for his niece and sister. That didn’t seem like much of a present, so he took another look at the wall of baby toys. He soon spotted a stuffed animal that resembled a rotund bumble bee with gossamer wings. When his hand closed on the toy, the wings crackled in his grip. He shook the toy next and jaunty jingling filled his ears.
Mikey caught Shin’s eye and he smiled.
***
Mikey read the first text from his brother. Waka was back in town after weeks away on tour with his old band so he and Shin had some catching up to do. Have fun at Emma’s, his second text read. Mikey found the peach and eggplant emojis and texted a few of those back, knowing what Shin was saying without saying. He replied with a thumbs up and a tongue out. Mikey snorted. Either the little pixelated images managed to convey too much information or dirty minds ran in the family.
Mikey exited the back seat of Mucho’s car and nudged the door shut with his hip, hands full of presents and drinks. Kakucho rolled down the window of the front passenger seat. “You sure you’ll be okay, Boss?”
They looked toward the house. The fading light of the evening let the living room beyond the bay windows of the Ryugujis shine brighter. It gave them an unparalleled view of activities within, curtains open to the world, and openly showing off the joy of those inside. They watched Draken kiss the wrapped bundle in Emma’s arms, the niece that Mikey felt he was already ready to die for. Watched her walk away with the baby as Haruki Hayashida and Mitsuya Takashi tapped cans of beer together in some type of toast.
Another familiar figure joined them in their tribute. There’s a surprise. “Yeah, guys, better than. Call Hakkai and Seishu if you want company. They’re never far away from him.” Mikey suggested. Hanagaki Takemichi had taken up position by the window and, having spotted Mikey on the sidewalk, was waving his way through an excited semaphore message intended to get his attention. Mikey grinned and winked at him. Takemichi vanished from view, knowing he’d been seen.
Mikey turned back toward his retinue and waved them off. “I’ll be among friends all night. I’ll call when I want a ride home.” They drove away and Mikey walked the short distance to and up the front steps. Draken pulled him into a bone crushing hug as soon as the door opened, dragging him across the threshold like he weighed nothing. Mitsuya relieved him of his packages and Takemichi took his turn next, crashing into him like they hadn’t seen each other in years, tears overtaking his oceanic eyes as usual.
“How’d the rest of the tour go?” Mikey asked him once his lips were free. He caressed Takemichi’s black curls and wiped away the tracks his tears left on his cheeks while he was at it. “What are you doing here?”
Takemichi passed him a beer, already open, and Mikey followed him deeper into the house, in the direction Draken and Mitsuya went. Takemichi filled him in as they reached the kotatsu and joined everyone already seated. “After our last concert, a break felt like a good idea for all of us. We’ll regroup in a few weeks, see what we want to do next. For now, Baji and Chifuyu are visiting their moms and Kazutora’s splitting his time between them. And I’m –” Michi stalled, oddly hesitant.
“Staying with me, obviously.” Mikey squeezed his hand. “You need to see the view I have of the city! Pah-chin’s amazing! He found me the best place possible!”
Haruki Hayashida looked up from his serving of fried rice when he heard his nickname and the flattery. He’d inherited his family real estate business a few years earlier, taking to the role like a natural. “I think your wealth had more to do with it than me, Mikey.” He replied. Everyone started laughing. “Nobody else I’ve dealt with could shrug away the price tag on a property the way you did.”
Wanting to dodge further questions on the topic of money, he verbally pounced on Emma as she approached. “How’s my niece? You put her to bed already? I was hoping to see her!”
Emma patted him on the shoulder. “If you’re serious about staying in town, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to spend time with her.”
The rest of the evening passed in a bit of a blur as more beer cans were opened and emptied. More chit-chat filled the room and more laughter accompanied the memories they shared of growing up together. Emma had to put her foot down when the hilarity got to be too much, at first worried they’d wake the baby, then mad as hell when they did wake the baby.
And the night ended the way Mikey wanted every night to end for the foreseeable future, with Takemichi in his arms, satisfied and happy.