RECORDING
Chapter Nineteen
Show Time!
Meanwhile in Yokohama, some four girls were even less pleased by the wardrobe situation. After she and Setsuna rectified the candy predicament, Asumi unleashed her collection of clothes and costumes on Afterschool Tea Time. Each and every costume was designed with an explicit theme that suited each girl and the audience's taste. Azusa shivered, expecting something that would make her stomach turn. But the costume, fortunately, wasn't very revealing, and it compassed a motif the kouhai was only too familiar with: a sailor-suited cat girl.
"Reminds me a bit of my middle school uniform," she commented. The sailor shirt was blue with a white collar and a red tie. The skirt was knee-length and the same royal blue as the shirt. In addition to that she wore a black headband with cat ears and a fake black tail pinned to her skirt.
Yui's costume, like Azusa's, had a school theme as well: a gym uniform. It was a white baggy shirt with the elder guitarist's name on it, plus a pair of blue skin-tight bloomers.
"This shows off your great legs, aneesan," Asumi grinned, giving Yui a thumbs-up and a wink.
"K-kitsune…?" Ritsu stuttered, checking herself out in the mirror. Her costume was a tight white strapless top that worked up as much cleavage as the drummer had, a mini-skirt, a tiara with a red cross, and fox ears and a tail. "What about me screams nurse?"
"It suits you, Ritsu-neesan."
"It suits me like a hole in the head."
Mio nearly fainted when she was presented with her costume: the bikini. "I am not going to wear this!"
"Aww, c'mon, what's wrong with this?" Asumi queried, holding up the bikini. The bottom was more or less a spandex thong. "Inspiration for this look came from a hentai doujin!"
"Is that supposed to convince me to wear it?" With a huff, Mio turned away, arms crossed angrily.
"Alright, we'll put it to a vote," Asumi decided. "Who thinks Mio-neesan should wear the bikini?" Grinning in anticipation of a great show of hands, the bartender eagerly threw hers up. Her face fell when she saw absolutely no one raise her hand. Mio fumed in the corner whilst Ritsu tried to placate her. Azusa stared sympathetically at Mio. Yui tugged at her bloomers, trying to make them reach her thighs. Sawako stared at her empty glass. "Sawako, not even you think Mio-neesan should wear this?"
"It's too much," the sensei stated simply.
"Oh, it is not. I've designed much more salacious stuff and you know it."
"And I'm glad you spared Mio-chan and the rest of them from the leather pad-lock boob gag…"
Mio's blood chilled, and she moaned in terror, crouching on the floor. "I didn't hear that, I didn't hear that, I didn't hear that…"
"…but that still doesn't make the bikini too extreme," Sawako continued. "Ricchan, Yui-chan, Azusa-chan — all their costumes are merely suggestive. Mio-chan's costume is all about sex, and it borders on hoochy." The teacher took the bikini and waved it in front of her cousin's face. "I wouldn't wear this, and I doubt you would either, Asu-nee. No self-respecting woman would want to be caught dead in this."
Asumi's topaz eyes followed the bikini waving in front of her. Then she relaxed her stance and sighed, "I suppose you're right, Sawa-neesan. I've always respected your opinion."
Mio's shoulders rose as she breathed a huge sigh of relief. She looked at Sawako gratefully. Who would've thought that the sensei would prevent her the very same public humiliation she had thrown the bassist into in past situations?
"So what should she wear?" Asumi asked.
"My uniform," was Mio's immediate response.
The bartender opened her mouth, ready to nix this suggestion, but she reconsidered. She gave the Sakura uniform a thorough survey. It had the potential to be sexy. "Okay," she nodded. "You can wear your uniform. But," she added once Mio's face lit up, "we have to edit it a little." Stepping up to the raven-haired girl, Asumi made her edits.
"On second thought, I'd rather have a costume…" The bartender had removed Mio's blazer, loosened her tie, and unbuttoned her shirt. It was more revealing, in its own way, than the bikini (Mio didn't want the audience to see her bra).
"Mio-chan looks great in a maid uniform," Yui supplied.
Asumi brightened. "I have one upstairs in my apartment. Excuse me while I get it…" She bobbed a quick bow and turned to leave. However, at the door she was met by two girls. One of them was tall and carried a guitar gig bag. The other was short and carried a keyboard gig bag.
"Asumi-han," the tall girl spoke up. "About these costumes…They's a li'l…" Her long brown hair was tied into a ponytail. She wore round, thin-framed glasses over her sharp ocean-blue eyes. The outfit Asumi designed for her was a red and black bustier with white frills that barely contained her great breasts.
The small girl was garbed in a habit, like the sort nuns wear, but the end of it barely came down to mid-thigh. "This is a little short," the keyboardist murmured, her voice a quiet alto hush.
Ritsu giggled and nudged Mio. "Their guitarist says 'han,'" she whispered. "She is definitely from Kyoto."
But Mio hadn't noticed the guitarist. Her attention was focused on the keyboardist. Sawako had said this girl hailed from their hometown. Mio just wanted to see if she could recognize her. She couldn't see the color or style of her hair because of the habit, but Mio could see she had hooded green eyes.
Presently the keyboardist had her attention focused on the guitarist, whom she was obviously very close to, as one could tell by the way they looked at each other and held hands. The guitarist was suggesting something for their show.
The keyboardist nodded approvingly. "That's a gem of an idea, Hitomi. I'll write it down." She produced from a pocket in her habit a little notebook and a pencil. As she started to jot down Hitomi's idea Mio noticed that she was left-handed. Then the keyboardist winced and hissed, "My carpal tunnel's acting up…" With an exasperated sigh, she switched the pencil to her right hand and continued writing.
Mio's silver eyes snapped open wide. Suddenly the keyboardist's face was very familiar. She's ambidextrous!
Mugi hissed through her teeth as the straps of her shoes cut into her Achilles tendons. It was 20:50 and the ojou was forced to stagger through Yokohama by her heels and the pencil cut of her dress. Her left arm swung madly, towed by the weight of the gold medal she had won. Despite it being November, the temperature a biting thirty-three degrees, Mugi's exigence and her hot Kotobuki blood kept her warm.
She stumbled, nearly falling, as the heel of her right shoe missed the curb. Her ankle was sore. She would have blisters on both her Achilles tendons. Groaning with worry, Tsumugi removed her shoes and dashed barefoot up Kobucha Street.
Her mind flashed back half an hour ago, when the results of her foursome were announced. The first competitor took silver. Kitazawa Kimiko took bronze. Miyao Katsuichi took gold. So had she, Kotobuki Tsumugi. There was no such moment in which the ojou felt more pride, a greater sense of finality, than when the gold emblem appeared next to her photo on the large screen. I've never seen Father so excited. Her normally quiet father actually cheered; he even punched the air with victory, clapping his hands over his head, his blue eyes crinkled in a smile. He was so happy he didn't mind that Mugi had to immediately leave.
The keyboardist found it reassuring when she passed the Yoko Uni Bookstore on Kobucha and Ujicha. This was a landmark of hers, a sign that Hair was near. By checking her watch, though, she saw it was 21:00 on the dot. Mugi half-moaned, half-sighed, putting on an extra burst of speed, scraping her bare soles on the sidewalk. I've let my band down, she thought hopelessly. What kind of a keyboard player am I?
She saw the green, blue, and red neon sign of Hair, and Mugi's feet grew wings. She was Mercury, catalyzing and barreling toward the bar. At the entrance she was met by a bouncer who demanded to see some ID. Grateful that Yokohama bars admitted eighteen-year-olds, Mugi showed the bounce-girl her prefecture ID.
If Hair was slightly dark in the daytime, at night it was almost pitch-black. The only light came from the bar, where several girls were clustered and Setsuna and Konoka flurried about busily. There was an abundance of light from the stage. Mugi's heart sank when she saw her four best friends up there, trying their hardest to keep the fervent audience at bay. I should be up there.
"Excuse me!" she cried. She tried to make her way to the front, closer to the stage, but the immense crowd blocked her way. "Excuse me!" she tried again, but no one even heard her. I'm going to have to be a bit impertinent, Mugi thought desperately. As she shoved closer towards the front, she could hear Yui and Mio trying to entertain the audience in her absence. The blonde girl did not know how long they had been up there, but she could guess by the banter they made (Mio was commenting about how small the stage was).
"Mio-chan!" Mugi exclaimed, now at the stage's edge. "Mio-chaaan!"
The bassist's slate eyes happened upon her, and her face broke out into a wide grin of relief. "Oh," she sighed, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes." She and Yui crouched, hands extended, to help the keyboardist on stage. "Alright, guys, now we can get this show on the road!" The bassist's proclamation was met by a swell of applause. Mugi took note of how her bandmates were dressed. She couldn't help but feel a little out of place.
The keyboardist stared in confusion at the Yamaha MOTIF that greeted her on the stand. Then she chuckled and slapped her forehead. In the heat of stress over the solo contest, she had forgotten that her Korg would not be performing with her tonight. She dearly hoped the sounds of the MOTIF would be similar enough to the sounds on her Triton.
What's the opening song? she mouthed at Ritsu.
The drummer pounded the right side of her chest, waving her other hand to signify an explosion.
Heart Goes Boom! Mugi knew. She tentatively set the Yamaha to the "SYNTH-SFX" tone.
Mio's right hand moved expertly about the frets of her Precision as she played the bouncing bass line. And, just as it should happen, the other instruments came in with a blasting upbeat on the snare from Ritsu. The bassist could see girls dancing. She saw a smiling girl whisper something to her date, her eyes still on the stage. Mio was sure the girl was saying something along the lines of "They're good" or "I love them already." Her stage fright eased, making her relax her posture, the rollicking music just flowing whilst she sang, "Hana watashi to uma no hitori…"
Hair was the best-known lesbian bar, and its customers came from all walks of life. The prospect of seeing not one, but two bands of cute high school girls made quite the turn-out.
Towards the center-left of the crowd stood a medium-heighted girl with lilac-colored hair styled into pigtails and sharp blue eyes. Beside her, her date, a short girl with blue hair cascading down her back and hooded green eyes, craned her neck, struggling to see the band over the heads of the girls in front of her.
"Would you like to move closer?" the purple-haired girl, Kagami, offered.
The blunette, Konata, shook her head. "We don't have to do that." The crowd was feisty, and there were other solutions. She tried jumping up and down, but that only allowed her the briefest glances of the opening band, and it exhausted her.
"Darn it," Konata gasped. "This is worse than the time I made a reference to Haruhi Suzimiya!"
"You mean like a minute ago?" Kagami grinned. "Are you sure you don't want to go closer to the stage?"
"No. I got an idea!" With a PING! a lightbulb flashed over Konata's head. Without warning Kagami or begging her permission, the otaku clambered up the tsundere's back to sit upon her shoulders.
"Oh, yeah," Konata nodded, giving her signature cat-like grin. "I can totally see the band now."
"I can't," Kagami groaned, her head dipped so low that her chin touched her chest.
Konata hummed a bit as she surveyed the opening band. Her gaze fell upon Azusa, and her emeraldescent eyes lit up. "Check out that twin-tailed guitarist! Tsundere to the max!"
"How can you be sure?"
Simpering, the otaku dipped her head so her upside-down face filled Kagami's vision. "It's like I always say, Kagamin: 'All tsundere girls—'"
"'…must have pigtails,'" the lilac-haired girl finished with a smile. Her hands were clutching Konata's legs to keep her from falling. Now Kagami extended her right hand to bring her girlfriend's head in closer. Their lips met, upside-down, in a tender, warm kiss. Balancing herself, Konata kissed Kagami again, and again. The tsundere hummed amorously as the strain in her neck melted away with each passionate kiss. If Konata's not jumping on my shoulders and spouting otaku-ish blabber, then I suppose I wouldn't be dating her, would I? When she pulled back, Kagami smirked, "I got a motto of my own: 'All otaku girls must be good kissers.'"
Konata snickered and retorted, "'All tsundere girls must be amazing in bed.'"
The pigtailed girl croaked in alarm, a rosy blush suddenly blossoming in her face. She started so hard that she nearly dropped Konata. Keeping a tight grip on her legs, she growled, "I'm done," and the cerulean-haired girl was back to checking out the band.
"That bass player looks like Komachi Tsugumi from Ever17," she commented, "and I'm getting a serious Haruhi vibe from that drummer."
"I'm getting a serious backache…"
The azure-haired otaku slid off Kagami's back. Sighing with relief, the tsundere stood up straight, feeling all the little bones in her spine pop. The sensation was both painful and wonderful.
"I oughta get back to watching K-ON!," Konata speculated, rubbing her chin. "I left off on episode two. That pawn shop owner reminds me an awful lot of Kyon."
In the center front of the crowd stood a group of friends hailing from one of the largest middle school/ high school campuses in Japan: Astraea Hill. There was a fairly spacey girl who had her auburn locks gathered into a messy ponytail at the back of her head. At her side stood a taller girl with violet eyes and blue hair put up in a bun with an elegant white bow. These two attended Miator, the most prestigious school on Astraea Hill. With them came three friends from their rival school, Spica.
"I love this song — it's so cute!" the redhead, Nagisa, squealed. "I wonder what it's called?"
"I'm going to guess 'Fuwa Fuwa Time,'" Tsubomi, a pink-haired middle schooler from Spica, responded sarcastically. She was regretting wearing her trademark sweater to this show. It may have been cold outside, but in Hair with all the girls packed close together it was miserably warm.
Tamao, the blunette and Nagisa's date, leaned in close to the redhead. "Where did you tell Shizuma-sama we were going?"
Nagisa blinked. "Umm…The Kafka symposium?"
"Okay." Tamao breathed a sigh of relief.
Nagisa fidgeted a bit. "I'm not comfortable with lying to Shizuma-sama, Tamao-chan…"
"Well…" The poet linked her hand with the redhead's. "You said everything was drying up between you two, ne?" Nagisa's hesitant silence was like music to Tamao's ears. The two of them had been through their share of hardships, the most recent Étoile selection nearly shattering their friendship like glass. But fate had been dealing Tamao an awfully generous hand of late. All Nagisa-chan has to do is break up with Hanazono Hecate-san, and…
Tamao was just offering her aid in the redhead's breaking up with Shizuma when a girl with long black hair and clever brown eyes crashed through the throng of people, bearing drinks.
"Who wants a stout?" she yelled over the cacophony of music and shrieking girls.
Tsubomi looked at her in horror; even Tamao seemed a bit surprised. "Yaya-senpai!" the pinkette fumed. "Underage drinking is wrong!"
Tamao queried, "How in the world did you get those? Do you have a fake ID or something?"
Grinning, Yaya shook her head. Her swaying balance and flushed face suggested that this wasn't her first beer tonight. "That Asumi-san's awesome! She'll give you anything so long as you can pay for it!"
"Okay, that's just illegal," Tsubomi muttered, turning her vehement stare away from the senpai and towards the stage. "Why hasn't this place been shut down?"
Ignoring the kouhai's remarks, Yaya sidled up to Hikari and watched the band with her. Afterschool Tea Time just about seemed ready to bring home Light and Fluffy Time. Yaya commented, "Hikari, you'd look so much like that keyboardist if you'd stop plucking your eyebrows."
Hikari blinked her turquoise eyes, confused. "But, Yaya-chan, I don't pluck my eyebrows."
Tsubomi remarked — not necessarily harshly, but when she was addressing Yaya one could never be sure: "And you'd look like that bass player if you'd get a decent haircut, Yaya-senpai."
"That bass player you totally have a crush on?"
The pinkette's golden eyes widened in horror. "I don't have a crush on her!"
"Then why were you staring at her like that?" Yaya queried wisely, enjoying Tsubomi's tortured expression.
"Staring at her like what?"
The brunette shrugged, just to punish her. She couldn't help it. Her reputation for pruning younger girls' egos had been established long ago. "You know, staring…with that dewy, longing look in your eyes that speaks a desire for that bassist to—"
"Zip it, aho! Baka! Dummkopf!"
"Since when do you speak German…?"
Somewhere farther back danced two certain American girls. Having recently graduated from King High School in Los Angeles, Spencer Carlin and Ashley Davies had been treated to a vacation in Japan where the culture was interesting, the history enriching, and the yuri plentiful. The trip came courtesy of Paula, Spencer's mother: a sort of apology for not previously being supportive of their relationship.
"Isn't this amazing?" Ashley grinned. "It's strictly A-list!"
Spencer giggled, following her girlfriend's lead. Only Ashley would gauge what was A-list in Japan after staying there for only a day. Despite her being jet-lagged, Spencer the blonde with the heart of gold willingly accompanied Ashley the brunette with the ego of steel to Hair.
"So which of these girls would you sleep with?"
Spencer's brown eyes widened in shock before she retorted, "You."
Ashley laughed, and the sound thrilled the blonde Ohio belle as much as it did when they first met. "I mean in that band."
For the first time that night Spencer's eyes tore away from her girlfriend. She considered the band, enjoying her sovereign right as a lesbian to check out girls, assessing each girl's roll-in-the-hay potential.
"The drummer," she finally answered. Ashley pursed her lips in disagreement. Spencer added, "There's something about her that reminds me of you."
"She looks like she could tear up the streets downtown with awesomeness, yes."
"What about you?"
Ashley didn't hesitate. "The keyboardist." Winking a smoky eye, she seductively pulled Spencer closer. "I've always been fond of blondes…"