Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Most of the spring snow from beginning of the week had melted away, save for the small heaps of ice that were shoveled up against the fences.
      Evening came, and with it, a stronger breeze from the nearby mountain, making the temperature chilly despite the sunny weather. Kento Yamashiro gathered the collar of his black varsity jacket closer. His long brown hair was tied behind his head, and it prickled at the nape of his neck. Underneath his jacket was his usual casual outfit of a T-shirt and chinos.
      “Maybe I should go back to the dorm to get a scarf.”
      As he crossed the deserted soccer field towards the school gates, Kento felt a twinge of regret. He drew his bold, smartly-angled eyebrows together, and directed his large, almond-shaped eyes at the unmelted snow that remained in the shade. He pulled his angular chin inwards.
      Although his face still carried remnants of boyishness, over this past year his high cheekbones, straight nose, and the shape of his face had grown considerably more mature-looking.
      “In Tokyo, all the snow is gone already. Count on Hachioji to be cold, still,” he muttered half to himself and half to the boy in front of him, who looked toasty in a down jacket. He knew the boy wouldn’t hear his complaint, but still.
      Shonan Private School was located here in Hachioji, about an hour by train from Tokyo and a bus ride further into a forested area.
      Tomoya Komatsu, who had been walking ahead of him, gave a little leap. Strands of his cropped, chestnut hair fell into his face, and he brushed it away as he turned around with wide eyes.
      His face, in contrast to Kento’s, was round and still very much boyish.
      “Kento, let’s run! Managing Director Mori is here himself to pick us up!” he shouted energetically, waving his hand at Kento behind him.
      “Oh, okay.” Kento looked up from adjusting his backpack at Tomoya’s surprised face, then the direction in which he was pointing. In the guest parking lot outside the school gates was a Jaguar painted British racing green.
      “Hey, you’re right.” It wasn’t the usual white Corolla that belonged to Manager Shimoda. This car belonged to the managing director of their production agency, the corporate bigwig, if you will.
      “Coming!” Kento hastened his steps as Tomoya’s slight figure broke into a run.
      Nobuyuki Mori smiled mildly at the two boys running towards him. He got out of the car and opened the back door.
      “There’s no rush,” he said gently, as the two boys tumbled into the car breathless, like a pair of puppies.
      Although Mori was a managing director, he was still only twenty-eight. He felt more like an older brother to these two boys in tenth grade. “Shimoda went to Haneda Airport to pick up Nishimura and Oka, so I came to fetch you instead,” he explained as he got back into the driver’s seat.
      “Oh, yeah! The older guys were gone in Osaka for background research, right? Gee, I’m so jealous,” Tomoya said enviously as he twisted to take off his bag. Nishimura and Oka were the two other members of their pop idol group, Chronos.
      True to Tomoya’s nickname, Oka and Nishimura were indeed “older guys”: Oka, the leader, was twenty years old, while Nishimura was nineteen. They were both out of school. The younger group still had classes to attend, which meant they were left out of the very enticing field trip to an amusement park in Osaka.
      “Do you think they’ll bring back souvenirs for us, Kento?”
      “Dunno,” Kento said noncommittally while helping to pull Tomoya’s bag off. Mori’s eyes smiled at them in the rearview mirror as he set the car in motion.
      “We’re headed for East Metropolitan TV, right, Mr. Mori? About forty minutes from here if we get on the Hachioji interchange?” Tomoya’s tone remained friendly and frank even towards a corporate bigwig like Mori.
      “Let’s see, well, it might be a little congested around Takaido, but since we’ll be getting off at Hatsudai instead of Gaien, I suppose it would take around that much time.”
      Kento listened to their conversation while he pulled out a script from his backpack. They were filming for a music show today with a long talk segment. He wanted to read it over one more time.
      “Oh yeah, this your first time on M Map, isn’t it, Kento?” Tomoya exclaimed. “Just to let you know, the talk segment isn’t going to follow the script at all, so there’s really no point in reading it.”
      “Really?”
      Tomoya was a year younger than him, but he was a senior in terms of their career, having debuted nine months before. Kento had been late in joining the group due to certain reasons.
      “Will you teach me how to prepare, then?” He lowered his head humbly. Tomoya proudly began to explain.
      Music Map, otherwise known as “M Map”, was a show that introduced the top billboard hits. It also marketed itself on its talk segments with the guests that they invited to each episode. Of course, Kento was already aware of that. The MCs consisted of Matsukawa, a famous pop singer back in the day when pop was still “new music”, and Tawara, a popular stand-up comedian.
      Matsukawa was notorious for being difficult to deal with, and Kento had read the script over many times last night in order not to mess up his talk segment.
      “It’s actually all up to Mr. Matsukawa’s mood at the time.”
      Kento looked dubiously at Tomoya. Tomoya chuckled and gave Kento’s shoulder a light clap.
      “Don’t worry! We’ll have a run-through before we go on air. Take notes on your script then. It was like that the last time we went on the show. And you know, Mr. Matsukawa isn’t as scary as you think.”

      When they arrived at the Kojimachi studio of East Metropolitan TV, Oka and Nishimura were already waiting in the green room. The oldest member, Oka, was slight with a small frame. His dyed brown hair was parted down the middle. Nishimura was the tallest and the most sturdily-built. His short hair was spiked with mousse. They were both wearing jeans with matching T-shirts in different colours with T-Rexes printed across the front.
      “Been waiting for you,” Oka grinned and waved.
      “Do you have souvenirs for us?” Tomoya said as he walked inside, then froze. Kento walked in after him and tensed up as he realized that the MCs, Matsukawa and Tawara, were also present.
      Tawara was a comical man, his reptilian appearance somewhat resembling a kappa. He was wearing a black sweater and jeans with a red pen tucked behind his ear. He had his nose buried in the script and occasionally scribbled something in it with the pen. When he finished, he tucked the pen behind his ear again, making him look like a seedy guy at a horse wager.
      As for Matsukawa, he wore a pair of sunglasses perched on his bald forehead. His black jacket had an embroidered dragon and tiger sprawled across the back. He had every appearance of a yakuza gangster. Kento balked at the can of beer in his hand.
      Tawara suddenly gave him a wide, clown-like grin, the corners of his mouth turning up exaggeratedly.
      “Kento Yamashiro, we’ll be focusing the conversation on you today, as the belated member of Chronos. Got it?”
      “Um ? alright.”
      A hesitant Kento was ushered by Tomoya into a metal folding chair beside the two.
      “I heard from the leader that you couldn’t join the group at first because of a leg injury?”
      “Um, yes.”
      Matsukawa took a swig of beer before fixing Kento with a glare.
      “Don’t you have any special tricks, something like that? Makes a visual impression on the audience that way, you know what I mean?”
      As Kento sat frozen by intimidation, Oka the leader swooped in to rescue him.
      “He’s the best dancer, actually,” he said. “He can do ten backflips in a row. Oh, and the moonwalk.”
      “But you already do that at concerts, right? We want something new for the show, you know. Something no one’s ever seen before.”
      Tomoya nudged Kento. “What about that?”
      “What?”
      “The guitar. You can play, right, Kento?”
      Oka’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s news to me, too.”
      “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,” Matsukawa joined in. “Something even the members don’t know about. Your dirty little secret.” He roared with laughter before ordering the staff to bring a guitar.
      “So? What can you play? If you say ‘Forbidden Games’ I’ll have to punch you in the face.”
      Kento was handed a guitar. He began to tune the strings.
      “The Beatles,” he replied.
      “The Beatles? I’m quite picky about them, you know. If you do a horrible job of playing them, you won’t come out of this alive.”
      The set for Music Map was designed to look like a recording studio. A keyboard and drum set were placed in the background, and a glass-panelled mixing booth was set off to the side.
      Matsukawa and Tawara sat at each end of the narrow, kidney-bean-shaped table, and the four members sat between them. Three cameras and sound-gathering microphones were placed on standby in their standard positions.
      “You’re almost on.” The assistant director snatched the can of beer from Matsukawa’s hands.
      Tawara laughed. “You’ll only have to part with it for a while,” he said as he waved a hand in Matsukawa’s scowling face.
      The “on air” light came on.
      “And?action!”
      “Good evening everyone, our Most Valuable Guests for tonight are the rising stars of pop music: Chronos!”
      The cameras glided over the studio floor.
      “?I see, Kento, so your debut was a little late because of a condition in your leg?” Tawara directed the topic to Kento, just as they had rehearsed. Oka seamlessly picked up the cue and pointed at Kento.
      “He was practicing the guitar for the whole time.”
     Kento reached out to grab the guitar placed beside him.
     “You were planning to show off all along, then,” Tawara quipped.
     “Let’s see you play a number,” Matsukawa said. “But if it’s ‘Forbidden Games’, I’ll have to punch you in the face.”
     Kento held his guitar in position and looked steadily at Matsukawa’s face.
     “This is a song that I want to dedicate to the person I love most. ‘All My Loving.’”
     It was different from what they’d rehearsed, but Matsukawa looked unperturbed as he nodded. Kento took it as a green light and began to sing along to his guitar.
     Doctor, you’re my dearest. You said that with time I would forget about you. But no number of years is going to change how I feel. Ever.
     Yuri Orihara.
     That was the name of Kento’s beloved. Kento had met him a year and a half ago. He only had to turn over the hourglass in his heart for the sands of time to take him to the past.
     To the days they had spent together.