"Natsu-chan!" I whipped around at the sound of my name, throwing my hair into the breeze with the force of my turn. I had been so lost in my thoughts, all the sounds around me as I walked were stifled. "Wait for me!"
"Hina-chan!" I could feel my face lifting into a smile as I saw my friend running across the school yard, an arm waving over her head. I lifted my arm to match her frantic greeting.
She came to a stop in front of me, doubled over and placed her hands on her thighs to steady herself, breathing quickly. "I didn't see you in home room today. I missed you!"
"Night school ran really late last night with exam prep." I explained, placing a hand on the back of her shoulder as if to help her catch her breath. "I didn't mean to sleep in, but I couldn't help it."
Hina's hand shot up toward my line of vision holding a piece of paper. As I placed my grip on both sides of the paper, she uprighted herself, fixing her shoulder bag and smoothing out her uniform blazer. "I thought you might be interested in this." She said.
The paper was a large full colour flyer, tape around the edges as if it had been hung on a telephone pole as an amateur advertisement. Across the top the stylized letters of a band read 'Guardian'. Underneath the title, the band's four members were pictured, clothes bedazzled and hair teased into all sorts of shapes. I found myself letting my eyes linger on their forms longer than I intended to, trying to unravel what these people might really look like underneath the costume and makeup. They looked inhuman in the photo, like some other unearthly creatures who were wiser, more talented, than any of us Earthlings could hope to be.
"Earth to Natsu-chan," I heard Hina's voice beckoning somewhere in the back of my thoughts.
"Guardian." I said. "I've heard of them."
"Who hasn't heard of them around here? They're our very own local success story! Chizu, Aya, and I are going to the show tonight. Do you want to come?"
I shook my head in an overly dramatic refusal. "I have night school. College entrance exams are coming up soon." I wanted her to argue with me. I couldn't bring myself to accept her invitation of my own accord, but I knew if she gave me a reason, I would buckle to her advance easily.
"You go to night school every night!" That was exactly what I wanted her to say. She had my full attention. "And now you're even missing home room because you're studying so much? Also, Natsu-chan, entrance exams are four months away. You have plenty of time to study, not that you need to." The cherry on top of all that icing was coming, I could feel it. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up in anticipation of her closing words. "You've been top of the class every year since high school started."
"What time should I meet you?"
I tried to remember my train of thought that I had been so deeply lost in as I continued my walk homeward. I watched my feet with every step, hardly noticing that I wasn't watching where I was going, relying on muscle memory to kick in and guide me down the same route I had walked twice, sometimes four times every day for the past four years. My school dress shoes were worn around the edges, but the top of the toes were neatly polished. Polished just like the pleates in my light blue uniform skirt, and just like the tidy hems on my beige blazer. My hair fell over my shoulders in a cascading black curtain as I continued to stare at the ground, searching my memory for the thoughts I had been so lost in.
As if on cue, my feet came to rest at the entryway rubber mat of the Lawson convenience store I passed every day. I slowly lifted my gaze to the window where the newest issue of Grand Host magazine sat on display. My eyes went wide with amazement and embarrassment all at once as I took in the vision that was the male Host Club employee. He looked to be the sort of outgoing and confident type of man who knew he was desired by doing nothing special at all. I quickly averted my gaze but my feet remained glued to the entryway mat, as if my body was telling me that in this moment it was my duty to go inside the store and purchase the magazine. I forced my mind to create a picture of the neatly organized box under my bed with every Grand Host issue I could find since I started high school, willing my body to understand that it was time to move on. Host Club boys were a fascination that both thrilled and terrified me. I identified myself as a good girl; I studied diligently, received high grades as a result, and thought about my future and what career I would choose often.
Seeing those images of Host Club boys in the magazine, however, gave me a peek into another world I knew I had no business in. Just outside of the town I grew up in was this world of lights and neon, of loud music and vibrations, of crowded streets and honking cars, where glamorous people like Hosts lived. In Kamakura where I was born and raised, my hair constantly smelled of salty sea, and there wasn't anything to do other than study. It was a town you were born into to make a success of yourself, whatever mundane career path you could chose in the country. I didn't long for anything else. Everything else scared me, and I told myself I could never have the courage to break free of the path laid out for me. I contented myself with simply peeking over the edge of the barrier once in a while, just to see what I was missing being a good girl.
Leaving my school uniform behind in favour of tight jean shorts, a cropped boxy t-shirt, knee high socks, and high-top sneakers left me feeling exposed to the night air as I walked swiftly toward Hina and my group of friends. The line of people waiting outside the live house doors was like a wave on the sea, loud crashing, but organized movements as if each person flawlessly made up one entity. I tried to hide my face with my hair, clutching my small purse closer to my chest. I saw Hina wave high above her head when she caught sight of me.
"Natsu-chan!" I heard her familiar voice over the breaking of the waves. The two other girls she stood with turned toward me, out of the small circle they had been making to contain their conversation. As I closed in to the group, Hina wrapped an arm around my back as if to merge me with the sea. She lowered her voice again. "Glad you could make it after all. Let's go inside, I have to use the bathroom."
We formed a train holding hands in our group of four as we wove our way through the crowds into the concert venue. The lights were dim but coloured blue, red, pink, and took away the contrast in our faces. It was useless, I thought, to have worn makeup. I felt light on my feet, as if I was tiptoeing to the barrier we decided to stand at, centre-left stage and in the front row. I faked emotional ease as I folded my arms and leaned on the barrier, realizing for the first time that the filler music was playing so loudly its vibrations were coursing through me like electric jolts. It was finally en emotion I recognized, excitement, in this night full of unfamiliar feelings.
Suddenly, the entire room fell into complete darkness. I reached for Hina's hand on the barrier beside me and gripped it tightly. I heard her laugh as the music came to a complete stop. The room behind me erupted in a cheer.
A white spotlight burst onto the stage, and a man was standing there bathed in it. He held a microphone stand in front of him with both hands, his head down. His bleach-blond hair stuck out at all angles in a style popular for visual bands, the tips of each little spike coloured red. His black tight jeans were decorated with something that caught the spotlight and threw glimmers around the stage with every slight movement. His black t-shirt was plain, but in the patches of skin it revealed through strategic and deliberate rips, I could see his body was as decorated with ink as his jeans were with glitter. He lifted his head, a smile already on his face, and took the microphone off the stand with one swift movement.
Leaning back, his gaze to the ceiling and his spine in a perfect arch, he outstretched one arm to the audience. I could hear his deep inhale through the microphone, and his scream was deep and guttural like a hunting animal.
"Kamakura!" His voice sounded as if he were more than one person in that instant. He took another deep inhale through the microphone as a cheer arose from behind me. He chuckled, smile beaming into the audience. "Hello. Did you miss us?" He opened both arms wide as if to absorb the energy in the room. "Let's go, then. We! Are! Guardian!"
At the end of his exclamation the rest of the lights on the stage burst to life with the music, revealing the rest of the band. I was instantly captive. And I knew I would never be the same.
I collapsed in my bed upon returning home from the concert, not bothered to change my clothes or wash my face. I held my phone screen up in the air above my face, my attention glued to webpage loading. "Front man of the Kamakura band Guardian." I read to no one. My entire apartment was dark, lit only by the slight halo of glow encasing me from my phone. "Aki."