Uemura Tatsuaki
AFTER IT WAS ANNOUNCED that Gotou Julia would be absent, social media naturally exploded with theories and suspicions. Was she sick? Was there an accident? Was it of her own volition? Since it was stated that they were in contact with her, fans could rest assured she wasn’t in critical condition, at the very least. But there was another reason to be tense: the fact that they weren’t willing to explain meant it was surely nothing good. And of course, some people took this opportunity to revel in schadenfreude.
“finally someone drops out lmaooo”
“So professional! ”
“She was only there to appease the female minority anyway.”
Tatsuaki didn’t join in, but instead scanned quickly through the flow of incoming tweets. He was searching for eyewitness accounts of Julia.
“CALLED IT LOL”
“Ugh, I knew it.”
Some, like these, tried to make themselves look omniscient.
“This was planned the whole time, and Julia’s tweet was part of it. Why do you think they decided to livestream it? To milk your wallets after scaring you into thinking she’s about to drop out. Oldest trick in the book.”
The theories were so creative, they felt like something he could have posted himself, though they were more sloppily written. Even among the fans who were worried for Julia, over time the rumors became accepted as truth, and people began to raise concerns that they might lose their fave altogether. But it was the rest of Impatiens who reversed this negative spiral.
“I’m sorry the sudden announcement has you all so worried! As you know, tonight’s concert will be performed by just the 6 of us. But to the fans who love Julia, whether you’ll be there in person or watching the livestream, I have a request. Will you lend us your hearts and voices?”
This post from Takatsuki Sakuna was accompanied by a single photograph of an empty stage from the perspective of the audience. As usual with Impatiens concerts, there were seven mic stands—but this time, Julia’s designated mic was turned to face the seats.
Having quickly caught on, the fans went nuts. “You want us to sing Julia’s parts?!”
Following in Sakuna’s wake, the other members began to post statements and photos of their own, but Tatsuaki ignored all the buzz. It was clear now that Impatiens hadn’t given up on their seventh member, but at the same time, it reeked of the implication that Julia had gone rogue. Normally, he would have thrown this in their faces. Right now, however, he cared more about finding any tiny scrap of new information about her.
What made this course of action feel promising was that, amid all the discourse, sightings were slowly but surely increasing. This was a huge district full of people, and she couldn’t hide from them. Of course, most were probably mistaken, since Julia was on everyone’s minds at the moment. Women with pixie cuts, women wearing Julia’s favored brands—hell, maybe some were actually just girly-looking guys. But Tatsuaki held out hope that one or two of these sightings were the real deal.
If he found her, he would take a photo and show the world the flaws no one but he could see. Envisioning that moment made his heart pump energy into his legs.
But obviously, finding her didn’t prove that easy. And soon, it came time for the Impatiens concert to start.
Fans who entered the venue posted pics showing that one mic was indeed pointed toward the audience. And while the pre-show background music was normally a veritable mixtape of selections from the group members, this time it was all Impatiens’s own hits. This generated various interpretations from fans and haters alike, but Tatsuaki paid it no mind. Phone in hand, he walked like he was combing every inch of the district. By exerting physical energy to achieve his goal, he didn’t have to feel sorry for himself out in the cold.
Deep down, some part of him was ready to accept that his efforts would end in vain. His mind hadn’t processed this whatsoever, but subconsciously, what he truly cared about wasn’t finding dirt on Julia. It was the process of passionately pursuing a single objective. The feeling of freedom this burning ardor afforded him was the quintessential teenage experience—or would be, perhaps, if it took a form that didn’t hurt anyone, or in a world with its morals reversed.
And so he walked through the district for just under an hour with nothing to show for it. Reaching into the depths of his heart, he gathered up his bitter disappointment and let it unfurl outward. The concert would start any minute now. Checking the livestream on his phone, he started to wonder if his attention would be better spent listening for the other members to let something slip.
As a last-ditch effort, he decided to go to the music venue from that old video—not because there was any concrete proof, but simply because there was a chance Julia might be there. Thus, to reach the outer edge of the basin, he began to climb the hill.
The trees planted at the park up ahead cast shadows that threatened to engulf the whole district. In front of it stood the music venue, all by itself. It was his first time ever seeing it in person. Below the archway, he reached out to the gate and gave it a little push, but as circumstance would have it, they appeared to be closed today.
Naturally, he had no idea that this place employed the same guy who had hassled him twice previously. Giving up on this idea, he started to head back down the hill. But first, he popped in his Bluetooth earbuds, and pulled up the livestream on his phone. The screen still showed the Impatiens logo, but the chat was flooded with an endless stream of comments from viewers on standby. He slid his hand, still holding his phone, into his pocket and headed to the subway station.
Eventually the silence switched to the hum of dead air, then to murmurs from a crowd. Then their signature sound effects played, and cheers erupted. Tatsuaki stepped off to the side of the street to check the screen.
Beneath the glittering stage lights, the members of Impatiens walked out—and sure enough, Gotou Julia was nowhere to be seen.