"BLUE_EYES" / LINK 01

LINK 01
WEDNESDAY / 12 JUNE 2013 / 6:00 AM
SHIBUYA / TOKYO

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” my alarm says in its cutesy, girly voice.

Ugh, six already? I still want to sleep.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!”

But I’m not working today. I filed a vacation leave last Monday.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” God, I hate it when that alarm plays. Might as well ignore it and sleep more…

Wait, did I just say it? That today’s my vacation leave?

I open my eyes, and a poster of Madoka Kaname on my bedroom ceiling greets me with her huge pink eyes. Good morning, Akane. Good luck on your day today! she seems to say.

After a little push and a big yawn, I grab my Weiss-Smart smartphone from beside my pillow, hold it close to my face, and turn off the cute-but-cacophonic alarm ringtone I have set.

A message notification appears before me. I tap it once.


Greetings, Ms. Akane Orikasa.

Today is your scheduled audition to become a member of our upcoming idol singing group, the “Trickstars”. Please come in your best idol costume and look as cute and adorable as possible – and make sure you have practiced your singing and dancing talent – in order to have a larger chance of becoming one of the faces fans will be willing to look forward to.

Audition starts at precisely 8:00 AM. See you there.

Skye Talent Agency


Eh… What!? Today’s my audition?

Oh crap, how could I possibly forget this? I’ve always dreamed of being an idol ever since I watched the forty-eight girls. Now that I have a chance to be an idol singer myself, I’ll never forgive myself if this one-in-a-million chance flies by.

‘Madoka’ stares at me again, this time, saying something else: Now, hurry up, Akane, or you’ll be late for your audition. You want to stop being a glorified tea server and start being a celebrity, don’t you?

I jump off my bed, quickly and carefully fixing my pillows and blanket. “Towel, please?” I say on my way to the bathroom, and my towel comes off the rack and flies onto my hand.

Ten minutes later, I walk out of the bathroom. I gesture my hand towards my closet. “Open, please!” Both of its doors open wide.

“Clothes, please!” A hanger containing my blazer and pencil skirt flies to my hand— Wait! Wrong clothes. I’m going for an audition, not for work.

“Singing clothes, please?” My office uniform flies back into the closet, and my audition costume – a white shirt with gold buttons and a huge red bow ribbon on the chest, a red vest with poofy sleeves and gold accents, red fingerless gloves, and a red pleated skirt with a white poofy underskirt – comes to me in its stead.

Perfect.

Another five minutes pass, and my idol costume is on, including my white thigh-length socks and red boots. All I need now is a nice red bow to complement my outfit and my hair.

I go in front of the mirror, gesturing to the hair ribbon on the nearby table. “Ribbon, please!” It flies to my hand, and I attach it behind my head, slightly to my left.
“Done!” I say, pumping my two fists in front of me with my burning determination.
I hold a peace pose in front of the mirror, announcing my catchphrase as I wink in the cutest way I could.

“Here comes Akane Orikasa!”

I gently open my apartment door, lest my neighbors wake up—

My stomach growls, and all of a sudden, I’m feeling like Artoria in a lion suit…

Damn no! I must get breakfast, or else it would be my stomach that’s singing during the audition – and that would spell the end of my still-nonexistent idol career.

Without making any sound, I close the door, rush towards my dining table, and there it is! I almost forgot my sandwich, my bento lunchbox, and my bottle of soy milk, and if that happened, I would have to buy my lunch – and auditions can last pretty much the whole day, so that could end up being a late lunch.

I reach my right arm out towards the table’s direction. “Come to me, please?”

My bag of food vibrates for a second, and voila, it flies straight into my hand!

I take out my sandwich. "Thank you for the food," I say with the biggest smile I could muster.

I put the whole thing into my mouth, careful not to swallow it just yet. I then flick my pointy finger up – “Music, please?” I mumble through my full mouth – and from my breast pocket, my pink earphones attach straight into my ears, allowing me to listen to my playlist of J-Pop songs and prep myself up for today’s audition.

###

Only one hour left before the audition begins.

Left! Right! Left! Right! I pedal my pink bicycle as fast as I can, hoping to arrive at Skye Agency’s office as soon as possible. So here I am, riding a bike with my lunch bag inside the front basket – all while I am in my cute but relatively ridiculous outfit. I’m sure everyone is looking at me silly because of this. The nail that sticks out gets hammered, indeed.

No, I won’t let them hammer me down! I will be the squeaky wheel, and I will get the “grease” that is the singing career ahead of me.

What’s that? There’s a crowd of people in front, and they’re all looking upwards. I stop and look up as well.

There’s a woman up at the rooftop of a six-story complex, standing shoeless outside the railing and on the edge.

She seems to be crying. No, it can’t be?

“Don’t jump, miss!” says a police officer through his microphone. “It doesn’t have to end this way!”

No way! If what I’m seeing is right, then I must save her.

I jump off my bike and walk towards the crowd.

“Have you no shame?” I hear one of the onlookers say.

“You’re being so selfish!” says another. “Think of your family, goddamit!”

This is terrible. How can they say these things? What she needs right now is someone to listen to her, not someone to shame her.

The woman leaps off the edge—

I can’t let her die. I won’t let sadness claim her life!

But alas, even running won’t let me catch up to her in time.

I close my eyes, not knowing if this would work. “Teleport, please!”

A pink light flashes.

As I open my eyes, I’m right below the falling woman. She falls right into my open arms, and we both fall onto the ground, me lying on my back. I stopped her from certain death! I saved her!

The woman opens her eyes, looking straight into mine. “Why? Why did you stop me?”

I have no idea what to say. My arms wrap around her, and she begins crying on my shoulder.

“I can feel your sadness,” I say. “It hurts when I see you hurt like this. So it’s okay. You can cry, if it makes you feel better.”

Around me, the blaring sounds of ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars wail like banshees. People are murmuring words I could barely understand, though I hear some still shaming her.

My vision blurs. Am I fainting? What on earth is happening to me?