And yet her doubts continued. She was too old to be an idol. Her personality was demure and old-fashioned, whereas the younger girls were more lively and dynamic. She had been certain no one would buy her music.
But, contrary to her expectations, she found an audience.
Her debut single, “Flower in the Snow,” was a smash hit, selling tens of thousands of CDs. After an appearance in a soft drink commercial, her name was on everybody’s lips. (Her only line, spoken softly: “Refreshingly pure.”) Within six months of her debut, she had established herself as one of the top idol singers.
Her outmoded style meant she had no direct rivals worth mentioning, and perhaps being out of step with the trends served to make people take notice of her rather than ignore another face in the crowd. Whatever the causes may have been, in a remarkably short time, Tsukioka Yukiko succeeded in leaving her own mark on the music industry.
Debuting as an idol was itself an accomplishment, and in the entertainment world, where many careers were over before they even began—buds sprouting, never to blossom—Yukiko had secured real popularity and fame. It should have been enough to make her more than happy.
If I’d wanted to become an idol from the start, she thought, I’d be up in the clouds right now. In her mind, she stuck a scolding tongue out at herself. What will ever be enough for me?
Having finished an appearance on an FM radio program in Tokyo’s Akasaka district, Yukiko took a late lunch at a nearby restaurant. Sitting across from her, her manager Domoto Yoriko was intensely focused on a plate of spaghetti carbonara. Something about the seriousness of the woman’s expression as she conveyed the pasta to her mouth made Yukiko giggle quietly.
Yoriko was thirty-three and single. She wore her hair pulled back and had silver-rimmed glasses.
She looks just like Fräulein Rottenmeier, she thought, picturing the strict governess from Heidi, Girl of the Alps. Now Yukiko chortled outright.
Yoriko looked over the rims of her glasses with an expression that only made her look even more like Fräulein. “You should hurry up and eat,” she said, twirling her fork to pick up the next bite. “We only have time for a short lunch before you’re due at Marusho.”
Yukiko’s expression turned sullen, and she pouted. “Do I absolutely have to go to that department store? The exhibition starts tomorrow. Why can’t I just show up then?”
“What are you talking about? You know how extremely important this event is for you. The whole exhibit is about you—you’re the star.” Yoriko sighed, and began reminding Yukiko, in exhaustive detail, of all the hard work she had put into organizing the event.
The last idol the department store had held an exhibition for had been Matsuda Seiko, and that was fifteen years ago. Yukiko was grateful for everything her manager had done to make the exhibition happen, but she’d heard this speech a hundred times.
When Yoriko was finished, the manager added, “That’s why I want you to look over the displays for yourself. You need to see, with your own eyes, how it all came together.”
Yukiko replied, “All right, all right,” then puffed out her cheeks.
The Marusho department store had a long and successful history, in part due to its location adjacent to a major Tokyo transit hub. The passing years had inevitably begun to show their wear, but the building had a distinctive character that retained its appeal.
Yukiko and Yoriko went in through the employees’ back entrance. The receptionist called for the exhibit’s coordinator, who came to usher them up to the event space on the twenty-fifth floor where the singer’s exhibit was installed.
The coordinator was a man in his fifties, and as the group waited inside the elevator, he passed a hand through his thinning hair. Proudly, he said, “I shouldn’t be one to brag, but this turned out really well—especially the life-size figure of Tsukioka-san. It’s not just your ordinary wax statue.”
Yukiko smiled pleasantly at the man, but on the inside, the whole thing repulsed her. The exhibit was meant to put the singer on full and open display, and the items included her actual toothbrush and coffee cups. She found it absolutely creepy. Any fans that would delight in seeing her personal belongings like this were not fans she wanted to have.
Worst of all was that life-size figure of herself. Apparently, some superfan had spent three months sculpting the piece, but she had no desire to see a replica of herself—and she got chills when she thought of her copy being put on display in full view of who knew how many people.
The elevator doors opened, and the exhibit’s coordinator gave a deep bow before spreading his arms wide as if to say, Well? What do you think?
The entrance to the exhibit space was directly outside the elevator. It was a large space, big enough to fit a comfortable home inside. The walls and floors were clean and polished, and the exhibit was brightly lit, with spotlights on the various showcases and displays adding tasteful and eye-catching splashes of color.
One display featured photographs taken of her lessons before her debut, alongside the leotard she wore for her jazz dance practice and a smartly arranged assortment of other objects from that time.
Yukiko was impressed. This wasn’t the haphazard and chaotic mishmash she’d pictured. A four-sided standing display case occupied the center of the first viewing room. Inside the showcase were her various daily items and pajamas and the like. Even that collection was far from tasteless.
“It’s great,” Yukiko uttered without thinking.
“It is, isn’t it,” Yoriko said with a satisfied nod.
It would do. The exhibition was elegant but also splashy.
Looking across the room, the coordinator said, “Tsukioka-san’s fans are sure to be pleased.” He clapped his hands and turned to look at Yukiko. “We’ve partitioned off the space into three rooms in the shape of a ‘U’ to direct the viewers through the exhibit. Your life-size figure is at the very end of the third room.”
Yukiko nodded and briskly walked into the exhibition space. She followed the U-shaped path, turning right, and then right again, and there at the end stood another her. The second Yukiko, frozen in her signature dance pose and wearing her stage costume for “Flower in the Snow.” It was completely identical to the woman herself.