In hindsight, perhaps Tatsuaki should have kept chewing on that piece of anger. New emotions took a lot of energy to produce. He sat there, staring blankly, until he realized he was inadvertently blocking the aisle with his bookbag. When people started to glare at him, he hastily moved it to the empty seat beside him to let them pass in front of him. Then, once they were gone, he finally rose to his feet. In the corner of the venue he stood alone, trying to find his feelings, right up until a staff member finally asked him to leave.
The talk show had ended without incident. As in, no callout of Julia, no drama, no provocation via a problematic comment that would finally wake people up. And now it was over.
“I’m sure this must be your first time performing a concert in a movie theater of all places! Tell us, Sakuna-san, how was it?”
In response to the host’s question, Sakuna rattled off an excited answer. When the same question was posed to Ao, however, she looked out at the audience. “While we were performing, I started to wonder if this is anyone’s first time seeing us. Anyone?”
At her prompting, three hands timidly rose into the air. Tatsuaki knew this not because he looked around for them, but because she pointed each of them out.
“This is your first time? For real? Holy shit, you guys are real adventurous, huh?”
Ao was yet another topic of criticism for Tatsuaki due to her outspoken comments, but right now he only had enough mental bandwidth for his main target. The girls had no way of knowing what he was thinking, of course, but little Iizuka Mei piped up with “I think it’s brave and cool!” to cover for her bandmate. After some discussion about their opinions of the film and questions regarding the lyrics of the theme song, it was finally time for the fan Q&A segment.
“Who wants to go first?”
“Why don’t we do the opposite of usual?” Towako suggested.
Thus it was decided that they would reverse the order they typically introduced themselves in. (Perhaps it was an intentional choice to save the lyricist, Julia, for later.) The host promptly reached for the box marked Iizuka Mei, plunged a hand inside, and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Let’s see… This question comes from an anonymous fan. Dear Mei-chan: Similar to the black cat in the movie, is there an animal you wish you could have as a pet? If so, what name would you give it?”
“Are all the questions this boring?”
“Hey, they’re allowed to ask whatever they want! Lately I’ve been going to a dog cafe with a friend on my days off, and it really makes me want a doggo of my own! Also, don’t pretend you’re not completely obsessed with your cat, Ao!”
“Yeah, ’cause Ramune’s the cutest cat ever!”
Tatsuaki was wracked with impatience. Like Ao, he wanted them to get the boring part over with ASAP. Alas, the universe did not in fact bend to his will, and the questions continued, none of which touched on anything of interest to him.
“Dear Ao-san: Is there any pop idol outside of Impatiens who you consider to be a great singer?”
“Dear Maki-chan: What’s the hardest word you learned recently?”
“Dear Otowa: I’d like to learn to play the violin like you. What brand of violin would you recommend? I’d love to get the same one as you if possible.”
“Dear Sakuna: From your perspective as the leader, which Girl’s March character is each member of Impatiens most similar to?”
For Tatsuaki, each of their answers flowed in one ear and out the other.
“Well, they’ve disbanded at this point, but I really enjoyed the vocal performance of—”
“This question is no fair! It’s probably, uhhh…impluvium? Wait, no, inpluvium? What do you mean, define it? The question never said—”
“The violin I have is actually on the fancier end of the spectrum. For a beginner, I would sooner recommend—”
“I don’t know if they’re similar, per se, but Jul understands The Girl’s perspective the best. Then I guess Ao would be Ai-chan, and—”
Only Sakuna’s answer managed to catch his ear ever so slightly—that is, until it was Julia’s turn.
“Now then, let’s move on to Julia-san.”
Humans had the tendency to believe that luck would favor them specifically, no matter the odds, and Tatsuaki was no exception.
“This question is also from an anonymous fan.”
By this point he was already disappointed, but then again, he realized it was silly to expect to be chosen in the first round.
“Congratulations on writing the lyrics for the theme song! Is there anything else you’d like to try your hand at?”
“I want to try everything I can, but for now, I think it’s important I devote myself to singing and dancing. I want to keep those skills sharp.” She must have sensed the room falling quiet at the sound of her stern voice, because she added, with a hard look, “So I suppose my answer would be spiritual training. We could all go and meditate under a waterfall, or try skydiving together—”
“Not happening,” Ran, the member with a publicly known fear of heights, muttered just loud enough for the mic to pick up. The crowd laughed.
“Also, I think Impatiens has a lot of really good songs, and I’d like for people around the globe to listen to us, even if they don’t speak our language.”
“A world tour?” someone shouted from the audience, and Tatsuaki could tell from the tone that it wasn’t meant as criticism.
“To make that happen, I need to work on myself right now. Besides, even Ran can handle going on an airplane.”
The exchange seemed too rehearsed, right down to the final punchline. This wasn’t the true Julia that Tatsuaki wanted to see.
From there, Ran started telling some story about what happened on the plane when they flew to Okinawa for a concert, but the details weren’t worthy of special mention. Then the conversation transitioned smoothly to her turn, whereupon she gave an inoffensive answer to yet another tepid question. But that was where the unthinkable happened—something no other fan saw as a major problem.
“Now then, unfortunately we’re out of time, so we’ll have to end the Q&A there. But before you go, let’s hear everyone’s thoughts about today’s event!”
Tatsuaki didn’t let it show externally, but his mind went blank, then began to run in circles. They still hadn’t touched on the key issue. It was all trivial bullshit. Julia had chosen to hide behind her persona instead of being serious with the fans. Before he could emotionally recover, the event rapidly approached its conclusion, and he was thrown in two different directions. For a moment, he forgot how to move.
While the other spectators all filed out, he stood idly in the lobby, trying to summon his emotions once more. If he allowed himself to accept that he had gained nothing, then the past few weeks would seem like a stupid waste of time. Thus, he needed to feel anger toward Julia and the event—that way he could continue to believe he was in the right. But since he had already swallowed that piece of anger, he had to stop and wrack his brain for a fresh source of rage.
Come to think of it, weren’t all those questions seemingly tailor-made to promote each member’s persona? What if the staff never intended to read any fan questions from the start? Perhaps they had prepared their own prewritten questions—that would certainly explain why all the members’ answers were so rehearsed, especially Julia’s. The segue into Ran’s plane story was way too perfect to be off the cuff.
In other words, they were crooks who lied to their fans, dodged questions, and tried to hide whatever was inconvenient to their narrative. This answer, which he had struck upon through a sort of word association, felt like truth only he could see. And so, without even trying to acknowledge the fact that some unconscious part of him only felt secure when he was angry about something, he decided he had no further business here and finally raised his foot from where it was glued to the carpeted floor.
“Hey, kid!”
He had chosen not to film this time since it was too risky, but he did have a full audio recording, and he was itching to go home and edit it into something.
“You there! Childhood friend of Itobayashi Akane!”
He didn’t turn to look in the direction of the voice beside him, but regardless, he soon found his path blocked. A pair of gaudy red boots appeared on the floor in front of him, making him flinch in alarm. He didn’t know anyone who would dress like that, but after a moment of consideration, the voice was familiar.
He looked up, into that beautiful face once more, and was met with a raised hand and a casual “Sup!” as if they were friends. He didn’t intend to respond, but he could tell from the look in this man’s eyes that he would be afforded no escape. It pissed him off.
“You like Impatiens? I saw you here, so I just wanted to ask you something. This isn’t about last time.”
At this, the barely-suppressed trauma began to leak out. Now Tatsuaki was kicking himself for standing around lost in thought. He should have saved it for after he got home. If only he’d kept chewing on that piece of anger, maybe he could have evaded the man’s detection.