At that moment, convulsions shot through his body. Purity. That which was unsullied, unspoiled. Yes, the man’s inner voice cried out, that’s it!
Purity was what he held dearest. Purity was the only thing he could trust in this world of lies.
To protect it, he would willingly give his life.
Kirigoe Mima’s presence as a symbol of purity was the reason the man was so inordinately drawn to her.
A long time had passed since idol singers were synonymous with purity. These days, they all sold their sex appeal as a commodity. To the last, those women weren’t idols. They were nothing more than prostitutes.
He hated them. He scorned their use of sex. Females were always using their sex to lead men astray. They stripped men of moral integrity and made them into sexual slaves. As far as he was concerned, they were witches who cast misfortune upon the world.
Except… The man’s expression brightened. Kirigoe Mima is different.
She was pure to the core of her being, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. At least, that’s what he believed—and he didn’t want to lose her purity. Her purity was his only reason to go on living.
Slowly, he began to see the form of the great calamity he feared. An unease spread within him. What if she were to change into something completely different?
That would never happen, he told himself, banishing the thought. But even after he cast the thought away, his mind filled with an indescribable fear.
Tears filling his eyes, he entreated her, Mima-san, I’m begging you. Please don’t change. Please don’t change any more than you already have.
He turned those teary eyes onto the small table in front of him. On the table was the magazine that had been the source of his anxiety. The front cover—a bright, solid red—read: “From Pure to Sexy: Kirigoe Mima to Attempt a Photoshoot!!”
As he stared at the words, he started to believe the only course left for him was to take action.
IV
Mima didn’t get back to her apartment until two in the morning. She’d been a guest on a late-night radio talk show where she’d mostly discussed her upcoming song. Mima counted the single as her seventh commercial release, though the true number was at least ten, when 12-inch vinyl variant releases were included. In any event, this was to be the seventh song intended for on-air rotation.
Her manager had a lot riding on this song. He wanted nothing less than the top of the charts.
In truth, it was a great song. It had a driving house-music beat and pop essence to spare. An idol singer couldn’t ask for anything more. Still, Mima had trouble believing she would make number one.
Of her past songs, the highest charting had been about a year ago, a 12-inch remix version of “Innocence Forever!” That one might have reached number five. At best, the others had barely squeaked into the top ten.
To aim for number one was a lofty aspiration.
Bon-chan is getting out of touch, Mima thought. A traditional type like me is already behind the times, and idols as a whole don’t have as much pull as they used to. I wish he wouldn’t let his expectations get too high.
Tadokoro had winked at her and said he had a surefire plan to get her to number one, but she hadn’t understood what he meant. But now she made the connection—she saw what he had in mind. Her new song was slated to release alongside her new photo book. The release of that risqué volume would get people talking, and the publicity would boost her CD sales.
Mima exhaled a puff of air. If selling CDs were that easy, she wouldn’t have to work so hard.
She doubted any photo of her would convey much selling power. No matter how risqué these pictures were, she wasn’t about to appear in anything so extreme as to land her in a plastic-wrapped book, or in an urabon—the “books in the back,” so named because the illegal nature of their uncensored pornographic images meant their purveyors kept them in back rooms and under the counter.
I’ll be lucky to chart at number nine, she thought, alongside a sense of guilt for not believing in her manager.
Of course, when the radio host asked her, she’d said, “I’m taking this song all the way to number one. You can count on it!”
To tell the truth, though, Mima’s manager wasn’t the only one who had a lot riding on this release—she did, too. One fact was as clear as day: if she kept on following this same course as a traditional idol, her success would slowly and inevitably dwindle. Her more popular peers were all searching for a new trend, taking influences from rock, Eurobeat, and elsewhere. Were Mima alone to remain stagnant, staying her course, she would face an all-too-inevitable outcome.
Certainly, some said that Mima’s traditional nature was her appeal. With the broadening and diversifying ideas of what an idol could be, some fans appreciated Mima’s unchanging stance.
But those voices formed a minority opinion at best. Mima had long ago accepted that the way she had been—not even wanting to appear in a swimsuit—was going to have to change.
Take that newcomer, Ochiai Eri. From the time Eri made her debut, she had sold her sex appeal farmore than her cuteness. Modern fans were looking for the woman in the idol. Mima could hear Eri’s mocking voice: “How long is she going to keep up the innocent girl act?”
If Mima was going to conquer that voice, she would have to become a new person.
As she read the score to her new song, she vowed to herself, I’m going to change!
V
This was not a normal day for Tadokoro. Since the early morning, the manager had been practically frantic, running between every TV and radio station he could, all to promote Mima and her upcoming song. If he didn’t, the media would largely ignore an idol with such a demure and subdued image. After all, Mima wasn’t going to get in a lover’s quarrel or try cutting her wrists or anything like that. Still, this was her only career; she had no side job. For her sake, Tadokoro needed to do the legwork. He needed to maintain relationships with the broadcasters.
The manager believed in Mima’s innate talents as an artist, in her potential for success, but her nature was not conducive to self-promotion. As a result, her CD sales thus far hadn’t done much to break away from the rest of the idol pack.
Tadokoro had worked as her manager for many years now, and he yearned to give her a number one song. No matter how tough her schedule became, she never uttered a single word in complaint. She was a good kid; she always showed genuine consideration toward her manager and the agency’s staff.
If it were in his power, Tadokoro hoped to secure her a spot as the nation’s top idol for at least the next several years. As evidenced by the recent telephone harassment, a significant number of her fans were the antisocial type, and Tadokoro had always kept them in mind when he crafted Mima’s image.
But maybe he didn’t need to do that anymore. Maybe he could be forgiven for betraying those fans, as long as he did it for Mima. At least, that was Tadokoro’s read of the situation as he worked out his plan for her new song.
He hadn’t told Mima about it yet, but he’d devised an accompanying costume for maximum impact. Despite how she presented herself, Mima possessed a rather glamorous and even voluptuous figure. As the Charming Rose, Mima had been concealing that sex appeal—but no longer.