Takatsuki Sakuna
WHEN SAKUNA FIRST HEARD the name of their group, she had no idea what it meant. Then the producer who christened them taught her that it was the name of a flower.
Also known as touch-me-nots, these blooms symbolized vibrant individuality. That alone was enough to be a fitting idol group name in her eyes, but apparently it wasn’t the flower’s symbolic meaning that they were named for. When fully mature, its seed pods would explode at the slightest touch, sending its seeds flying. That was what management wished to see from them.
“It’s not about your looks or your skills. We don’t care if you cause a little trouble—we want stubborn fighters.”
And so that same producer and the rest of the staff gathered up seven other girls in addition to Sakuna. Around the time they all finally met in person, she was shocked to learn that one of them had dropped out beforehand and another had immediately gotten a major haircut right afterward. She took this as a sign of the explosive days to come.
Over the years, as she came to learn more about each of the members—both on an individual level and as teammates—she started to see that the name Impatiens was actually brilliant. Not only did these girls seem like they might blow up at the slightest provocation, but they sent their seeds flying in all different directions. She also liked that the beautiful symbolism was just an added perk, as if to say “Yes, we’re pretty, but that’s not the point.” It captured them perfectly.
As the leader of Impatiens, Sakuna proclaimed herself their biggest fan. She strongly admired and cherished each member’s unique charms, but never imagined their individuality to be more vibrant than any other idol group’s.
✦ ✦ ✦
The venue had requested that tonight’s pre-show be held after the performance, so the members had plenty of time to get to work. Five of the seven were already in the green room when Mei walked in.
“You look amazing!” Sakuna shouted as soon as she laid eyes on her.
“You think so?! Thank you!”
The compliment sent Mei bouncing up and down. As of yesterday, she had changed her hairstyle from waist-length dark hair to a bleached wolf cut. While Sakuna had taken part in the image consultation beforehand, this was the first she’d seen of it in person, and when she suggested taking a selfie together to commemorate the occasion, Mei beamed from ear to ear.
Then, when she asked why no one else was saying anything, the other members complained that they couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
“…Jul’s kind of late, isn’t she?” Ran asked, once the topic of Mei’s haircut had petered out. Because she was normally so quiet, her words carried weight, and everyone in the room became conscious of the unnatural absence.
“Normally she shows up ridiculously early,” said Towako, and everyone nodded.
Just then, someone’s phone made an “incoming message” beep—it was Maki, who had forgotten to set her phone to vibrate. But as they would soon learn, the same message had been sent to everyone.
“Wait, what?”
Maki’s reaction spoke for all of them. The unaccounted-for Gotou Julia had sent a message to their LINE group chat—“I can’t make it tonight”—then left the group.
“Is…is this bad?!”
“Calm down, Mei. I’m gonna go talk to Shinogi-san real fast.”
As the representative of their anxieties, Sakuna rose to her feet and left the room, striding briskly in the direction of the staff room. But she never made it that far, because she ended up bumping into Shinogi in the hall.
“Shinogi-san! I need to talk to you about Jul.”
“Oh, perfect. I was just coming to speak to you about her.”
They returned to the green room, where Shinogi explained to the confused group members more or less exactly what Sakuna had been planning to explain to her.
“Jul sent a LINE message to say she can’t make it tonight. I tried asking her what’s going on, but she hasn’t replied. Does anyone know anything?”
Everyone shook their heads no.
“Not even you, Sakuna?”
“I haven’t heard anything.”
“I see. If she’s sick or something, I’d like to know what her symptoms are, but she isn’t picking up when I call.”
“Would Jul really let a few symptoms stop her from showing up, though?” Ao pressed, and she certainly had a point.
“What if she got into an accident?”
“Then she wouldn’t have been able to message us.”
“The fact that she left the group is itself another message. She’s fine, but can’t come, and doesn’t want to tell us why,” Ran remarked. Sakuna didn’t want her to be right, but at the same time, it did feel very in-character for Julia.
“I’ve asked someone to swing by her house, just in case,” Shinogi informed them, and they all fell silent. There was no time for this—rehearsal would be starting soon. “Let’s just do a regular run-through with the six of you, and Jul can join as soon as she gets here. But I need to go confirm it real quick, so everyone wait here for now.”
“Shinogi-san!”
Before their manager could rush out of the room, Sakuna stopped her. Even if she didn’t say this out loud, Shinogi had probably already anticipated it, and word would spread to the producer before long—but she felt it would mean more coming from a fellow group member.
“We should prepare ourselves in the event that Jul doesn’t show.”
“Starting now?” Maki asked, though she must have known the answer. Sakuna was grateful for her incredulity.
“For the formation, we can probably use the one from when Ran got the flu.”
Except in this case, they didn’t have three days to prepare.
“What about the songs, though? Can we rehearse a no-Jul version of Danger and Loners starting right now?”
The full song titles were “Danger: Don’t Touch” and “Let’s Be Loners,” respectively. Both were written by Julia, and she had large singing parts in each. Truth be told, all of them were surely thinking the exact same thing at this point.
Seven young women with seven vastly different personalities and skillsets. If they hadn’t been assigned to the same group, they would never have thought so deeply about each other. In fact, the majority of them wouldn’t have taken an interest in idol culture at all. But now they saw each other as professionals—as sisters-in-arms—and Sakuna knew she needed to express that on their behalf.
“After telling us she can’t make it and leaving the LINE group, does anyone really think she’s going to show up?” She could feel the room growing icy, so she turned to look at their trusty jokester Towako. “Well?”
“Why are you asking me?! Although…I doubt she would jerk us around like that. Worst-case scenario, we could leave Jul’s parts instrumental-only, I suppose?”
As a group, it went against their principles to use anything pre-recorded.
“Even if Jul does come back, someone else might have an emergency later on down the line, so it couldn’t hurt to have a plan in place,” Sakuna told them. She knew they could tell she was hinting at the possibility that Julia might never return.
From there, the other staff rotated in as they continued their discussion. Sakuna’s suggestion was intended to appeal to the higher-ups, so it was naturally accepted, and everyone who wasn’t otherwise occupied switched gears to reassign Julia’s singing parts.
As they worked, they heard from the employee who had gone to Julia’s house that she wasn’t there. Then, having heard the news, the producer rushed over from another artist’s venue. With help from all the staff, they managed to slap together a new setlist. To give it a test run, the members all stripped out of their street clothes.
“Maybe it’s a new storyline?” Maki murmured to herself as she got changed. No one responded, but now the question was on the table.
“What if it isn’t, though? She’s been dealing with Twitter drama… It’s deleted now, but she mentioned quitting, right?”
Likewise, Mei’s grave concerns went unanswered. No one knew the truth.
But Sakuna’s beloved group did know how to lighten the mood.
“I’m just shocked Ao wasn’t the first one to go,” said Towako.
“Oh, like you’re one to talk! The fans always said it’d be you!” Ao shouted back.
“Enough of the comedy routine. Let’s go,” Ran pressed quietly.
“Great, now Ran-neechan’s mad at us!”
They were smiling, if only for show, and Sakuna was so proud of their fortitude.
She didn’t know what had happened to Julia. Was it a storyline, or was it something else? Loath as she was to consider the possibility of a future in which the seventh member never came back, as a professional, she had no choice. But in case Julia needed even the slightest encouragement to find her way, Sakuna sent her a private message with the most sincere words she could manage, then headed off to rehearsal.
“I’m here for you, Jul.”