In the stage’s wing, Yukiko was checking over her outfit one last time. She had on a white turtleneck sweater over a black corduroy dress. The dress went down to just above her knees, revealing athletic legs clad in black stockings. For her shoes, she had gone with her favorite pair of black pumps.
She put her hands together and said a little prayer to herself. It was something she always did before every event, be it a TV appearance or a handshake meet-and-greet.
The busy backstage staff all looked nervous for the performance. The PA engineer finished readying the tape containing Yukiko’s backing tracks as he listened to orders coming over his headset.
It was about to start.
The fans’ cheers swelled like a tidal wave. Hollers and whistles and foot stomps resounded across the roof. This was to be Yukiko’s first real live performance, and as she felt the crowd’s anticipation, her legs began to shake.
“God, please look over me,” she said under her breath. “Please allow this event to be a success.” Then, fired up, she turned toward the stage.
The audience’s shouts began to sound almost furious. Their anticipation to see Tsukioka Yukiko live was driving them wilder and wilder.
At the entrance to the rooftop, a security guard was arguing with the line of fans. The crowd was attempting to press through the entrance and tempers had flared.
“It’s free admission,” a long-haired youth at the front of the pack said. “There’re no tickets! So let me in already.”
He pushed against the security guard’s chest and tried to get by. The guard quickly pushed the young man back. As they struggled, the angry fan grunted and growled, and a group of other fans pushed at his back.
The guard reached for the transceiver radio at his belt so that he could call for backup. But before he could, a high-pitched man’s voice came from somewhere down the stairs. The rooftop was a cacophony of crowd noises, but somehow the shrill voice pierced through the din and across the audience.
“It’s Tsukioka Yukiko!”
The first to react was the long-haired youth trying to force his way past the guard. He shouted, “She’s—she’s down there?” and turned and ran down the stairs.
That was the spark. All the fans who hadn’t made it onto the rooftop ran down the stairs after him. They knocked down a child playing on the landing where the stairs doubled back. The boy began to scream and cry, but the child’s voice only agitated the crowd and spurred them to run faster.
It wasn’t just the fans at the rooftop’s entrance now, either. The entire audience stood up from their seats.
“It looks like Yukiko-chan isn’t appearing on stage, but down in the exhibit,” said one.
“She’s not coming here?” cried another.
“Behind us,” a third shouted. “Behind us! Yukiko is back that way!”
Standing at the seat he’d secured in the front row, one impassioned fan looked to be in shock. His face went pale. Then he was scrambling to pack away his tripod-mounted camera, and made a dash for the staircase, attempting to beat the rest of the crowd to the punch.
Folding chairs began to tumble over. Attendees started getting swept away and knocked down by the surging crowd. Angry shouts arose all around. One simple phrase shouted by one heartless person had thrown the entire area into total panic.
Kanda and Yoriko burst out from the green room. For a brief second, they both froze in shock at the erupting chaos, then quickly regained composure and began shouting orders to the security team and staff.
For a moment, Yukiko didn’t realize what was going on. One minute, she was ready to step on stage and deliver her best performance, and the next, angry shouts filled the air, and her fans all stood up at once.
Hundreds of people took off running at the same time and in the same direction like a herd of stampeding buffalo. Yukiko watched the stampede aghast, but for some reason, her emotions remained utterly calm. At one point, she thought, This is like that scene from The Lion King.
Not knowing what she should do, the idol returned to the green room to look for Yoriko. The event would likely be canceled. The stampede might not go without injuries. If that happened, those hyena-like newspaper reporters would come around looking for someone to blame. For that reason—and every other—she hoped that no one would be hurt.
When she reached the green room, no one was inside. She considered returning to the stage, but thought better of it and instead decided to leave via the emergency staircase down the hall from the green room. If anyone saw her back on stage, the chaos would only increase. For now, she would go to the staff room next to her exhibit.
Hurrying now, she exited the green room and turned right. Stacks of cardboard boxes lined the hall, narrowing the passage there. Beyond the boxes, a metal fire door led to the stairs.
The hallway’s fluorescent lights didn’t quite reach to the end of the hall. The dimly lit space made Yukiko feel nervous.
Under her breath, she told herself, “I need to find Yoriko-san as fast as I can.” Walking quickly, she headed for the end of the hall.
Then, just as she slipped past the stacks of boxes, she heard a rustling noise behind her. Reflexively, she looked over her shoulder. Farther down the hall, a figure stood backlit by the soft glow coming from the green room. For a moment, Yukiko’s mind froze.
Then she wished it had stayed that way. She recognized who it was easily—it was the last person she wanted to meet.
It was the rabbit—that monster. Until now, he had been lurking around her like a shadow, but now he had come to confront her directly.
The event area had descended into chaos, stretching the heavy security thin. The rabbit hadn’t failed to capitalize on the opportunity. He’d waited for the security to go out onto the roof, and when they were all outside, he went inside.
He’s worked through every detail, Yukiko thought. Keeping her eyes on him, she slowly backed away.
Silhouetted by the lights, the rabbit’s ears stood up. He had seen her.
An indistinct growl came from his mouth. Was he enraged or elated? Yukiko couldn’t tell. Whatever the case, the rabbit was excited.
Overwhelming terror hit her in waves, so strong they might have made her faint. But deep down, she remained surprisingly calm.
Maybe I’m more resilient than I look, she thought.