by Z. Allora
“We’re going on a trip?”
Chapter 16
THE BUILDINGS of Tokyo got farther away as the train heading to Kyoto tracked through smaller towns.
Sage needed to suck it up and call the band. They had to be pissed at him for abandoning them last night. There were signs about no cell phones, but none in their first-class car. Their railway carriage was oddly empty.
Turning to Daiki, Sage waved his cell. “Since no one’s in here, do you think it’d be terrible if call the guys?”
Daiki continued to stare at the window but gave his hand a squeeze. “Usually I follow all the rules, but I’m questioning that philosophy. There’s no one you’d be disturbing, so I have no issue.”
Sage dialed, and FaceTime connected him with Zen.
“You okay?” Zen asked, full of concern.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, man. Can you get the guys together?” Sage didn’t want to do this, but if he had to, he only wanted to spill his guts once.
Wayuu appeared in the screen instantly alongside Zen.
The way the picture jiggled, they were walking, and then Zen knocked on Haru’s door. He knocked again, harder this time.
Wayuu scrunched his face. “Tsk, we’re sorry to bother you both.”
“Haru! Haru! Get your ass out here. Sage is on FaceTime.” Zen was more direct.
There was a thud and “Butterscotch… no, wait.” Haru appeared, pulling on a shirt and panting.
“Butterscotch?” Zen snorted.
Haru glared. “A conversation for another time.”
“Oh, most definitely, Butterscotch.” Zen’s eyes sparkled like “another time” would be directly after this discussion.
Sage forced himself to begin. “First let me say, I’m truly sorry. I let you all down.”
“Hey, it worked out. The audience loved us,” Zen claimed.
“Yeah, they really did.” Haru sounded a bit shell-shocked by his own words.
Maybe this would all be for the best. Kashi-sei didn’t need him. Each of them was taking a risky career move by joining the band. They didn’t need a flake screwing them up. Finding another drummer wouldn’t be hard. “I’m going to start looking for a new drummer. I can—”
“No!” All three of them shouted at him.
In the window’s reflection, Daiki’s mouth opened and then closed. Sage wished he’d spoken, but maybe this was something Daiki thought Kashi-sei needed to hash out.
Sage nodded in understanding. “Would you rather keep the band with you three? That’s okay. I can—”
“What, you think you can quit?” Zen raised his voice to cutting level as he glared into the phone.
Sage held the phone farther away. “Look, I appreciate it, but I don’t think—”
Wayuu cut him off. “Sage, I’ve never worked with a drummer who cares more about the music and highlighting others than he does about showing off.”
In truth, Sage did solos on his channel to appease his fans or to make a point. He really didn’t like the spotlight, but he enjoyed helping direct the listener to the music and other members.
Them wanting him to stay was an ego stroke, though he needed to be realistic if the band had a chance of succeeding. “You deserve a drummer who isn’t dealing with… with stage fright.”
“Oh, is that all it is. Pfft.” Haru folded his arms over his chest.
Zen laughed and then rolled his eyes. “Man, I thought it was serious.”
“It is serious. What part of ‘I would have chosen death rather than taking the stage last night’ do you not understand?” Okay, maybe not quite, but damned close.
“I jump up and down in place,” Wayuu stated, like that habit should make sense to Sage.
Haru tapped his forehead. “Oh, that’s what you were doing. I thought… never mind. I run through all the chords of the songs in the set.”
“I fuck,” Zen said in that deadpan way of his.
Wayuu turned and glared at Zen. “What?”
Snorting, Haru said, “I’m going to tell my girlfriend I’ve got a new technique to ease preshow jitters.”
A muffled “I wouldn’t advise it if you want to keep her” drifted through Haru’s door.
Zen looked at the two standing next to him and then back at the screen. “A question I never thought to ask—did you ever perform in front of a live audience?”
“No… well, one disastrous performance in high school.” Sage couldn’t stop berating himself for being so arrogant as to think he could simply take the stage.
“Ahhhh.” Wayuu smiled in that reassuring way of his.
“Though I just identified that as problem number one. Millions of views on YouTube doesn’t translate to the stage.”
“We’ll figure this out,” Haru said with such confidence Sage almost believed him.
Wayuu squinted. “Are you on a train?”
“Yeah, heading to Kyoto, then on to Inari with Daiki—”
“Ohhhhh, nice.” Zen smirked and leered.
A sliver of guilt weaved through Sage. “I’m going to take some time to figure this out. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“Have fun.” Zen made riding a train sound extremely dirty.
“We’ll be here, and be clear we are keeping you as the drummer of Kashi-sei.” Wayuu did an air rim shot and waved.
“Seconded. Later.” Haru gave a nod.
“Now, Butterscotch, where are you going?” Zen chortled as Haru disappeared and his door slammed shut. Zen grinned into the phone. “I’d tell you not to do anything I wouldn’t, but there’s not much I wouldn’t do, so I’ll say have fun.”
“Take care.” Sage ended the call, feeling much lighter but still confused.
Daiki grinned at him. “I’m glad Kashi-sei isn’t going to allow you to escape… and neither am I.”
AS HE and Daiki meandered the short distance through the town right below the Inari shrine, Sage thought out loud, “I’ve lived in LA most of my life, so I drive everywhere. But even connecting to the other train was simple.”
“I’m sure there might be times a car would come in handy, though I can’t imagine driving everywhere.” Daiki led him past the souvenir shops, traditional tea shops, and a number of tiny restaurants that lined the road leading to the shrine.
Sage snorted. “That’s because you’d have to put down your sketch pad. I’d have to make No Drawing and Driving billboards for you.”
Daiki laughed and leaned into him. “I always put down my sketch pad to hold your hand.”
Grabbing Daiki’s hand, he gave it a squeeze. He stopped and took a picture of the manhole cover with an artistically drawn fox on the top. “Kitsune?”
Daiki’s smile made him glad he’d remembered a bit of the information from his first trip here. “Yes. They’re messengers pleading to the gods on behalf of the worshippers.”
Sage read the plaque and then asked, “So all the offerings are for prosperity in business? Kashi-sei could use some luck.”
Daiki nodded and led him to the start of the path. “Maybe in the future Kashi-sei can add to the 10,000 torii gates.”
A lump formed in Sage’s throat. He didn’t want to give up being the drummer of his dream band, but he couldn’t see the solution.
Catching on right away, Daiki threw an arm around him. “Hey, like the band said, we’ll figure this out.”
That we made the lump impossible to swallow past. He smiled at Daiki.
Daiki patted him on the back and released his hold. “Sometimes setting the situation aside can help a solution appear.”
Pressing his lips together, Sage avoided his insecurities spurting everywhere and so nodded. “Some might say that’s avoidance.”
“Your American is showing. It’s okay to coexist with a problem. Think of this as taking the time to see the issue from every angle.”
“All I see is stage fright blocking me from performing.” Sage was frustrated and angry and—
“You might be too close to the problem.
Let’s enjoy the walk up to the top. Let the Inari help you.” Daiki gestured for him to start on the steps under the scarlet gates that lined the path.
Maybe it made sense just staying in the present moment. Sage took a big inhale and started moving on the exhale. “Being out of the congestion of LA and Tokyo is great.”
“The walk is about five kilometers up and down through the torii gates. Want me to carry the pack?” Daiki asked.
“I’ve got it.” Sage readjusted the straps. The knapsack wasn’t heavy. It only carried a couple of sets of clothing for each of them, charging cords, and some protein bars.
“I’ll hold the water.” Daiki put the two bottles they’d gotten before leaving the station in his ever-present messenger bag.
Sage might have been joking when he asked, “What color red is this?”
However, Daiki the artist smiled at him. “Vermillion. The color used to be made from powdered cinnabar.”
“Oh.”
Daiki bumped into his shoulder. “Did you expect I’d say fire-engine red?”
“No… yes.” Sage laughed.
“Well, it’s not. That leans more toward the blue base rather than yellow.”
Sage nodded at the art lesson, and the tension he carried begin to drop away.
“Come on. The crowd isn’t bad considering the season and the time of day.” They caught groups and then passed them. Now with no one near them, they were able to walk up the mountain side by side.
A light breeze blew through the trees as birds chirped while flying from branch to branch. Animals scuttled through the underbrush near the stone steps.
Daiki’s fluid movements as he took the stairs were a turn-on. Who would have thought someone could climb stairs in a sexy way, but may the messengers of the gods help Sage, because Daiki did.
And thank the gods his erection issues really had been simply stress. He didn’t want to go on ED meds just yet. But hiking up a mountain with an erection wasn’t his idea of fun, so he stopped studying Daiki’s every move and focused on the forest surrounding them.
He looked around. “I’m not seeing any of the monkeys the signs warn about.”
“And we probably won’t. Since people stopped feeding them, they stay away from the path for the most part. Oh hey, look. It’s late in the season, but being higher up, there are still some cherry blossoms in the distance.” Daiki took a picture with his phone, but Sage was positive he’d rather have sketched the trees.
Along the path of the torii gates, low grasses, moss, and lush trees flanked them and shaded their way up.
Sage wanted to confirm what his quick research had shown, so he asked, “From what I googled on the train, therapy isn’t popular here, is it?”
“It’s rare, and to find a therapist is difficult.” Daiki handed one of the water bottles to Sage and took a sip from the other.
Sage sighed and took a long drink. “And I also saw lots of the medications you can get in the States aren’t legal here.”
“Well, certain ones. But there are some exceptions and there might be some different options.” Daiki took the bottle of water back and put them both in his messenger bag.
Not wanting to be an exception, Sage shrugged. But wasn’t that the issue Kashi-sei wanted to address? Being different wasn’t a problem, it simply was. He thought out loud, “Maybe I can look at those options and get some antianxiety meds.”
Daiki nodded. “There’s some herbal medicines like Agaranzai, which helps lessen anxiety caused by speaking in public. You might want to look into something like that.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Herbal or chemical or both… Sage was determined to find something that would work.
“We’ll find a way for you to do what you want.” Daiki appeared confident. Sage absorbed some of that assurance.
Stopping at the lookout, they took some selfies.
Sage posted to his Instagram and Twitter feed. “Got to keep fresh content.”
The people hiking up the stairs had thinned out considerably at the lookout point. Either they decided they’d had enough steps and were headed back down, or they stopped at the restaurant.
Sage and Daiki passed the smaller shrines with stone tablets and many with fox statues.
Feeling lucky, Sage found his confidence growing. With Daiki and the band’s help, he’d figure this stage fright stuff out.
By the time they got to a row of shops and another restaurant, Sage was relaxed.
“Let’s go in here.” Daiki pointed out a tea shop with souvenirs and sweets in the window.
“Sure.” Sitting down would be nice.
A woman in her late sixties brought over a pot of delicious-smelling green tea and two cups and whispered to Daiki, “He’s going to be thrilled to see you.”
Daiki poured the tea with total focus, as if it was a complex process, though Sage was sure Daiki was avoiding his gaze.
“Daiki? Who is she—”
“Daiki! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” An older gentleman leaned a bit on the woman who’d brought their tea as he hurried over to their table.
Daiki stood and bowed, and then the older man pulled him into his arms for a hug. “Grandfather.” The warmth with which Daiki said the word told Sage how important the man was to him.
Sage jumped to his feet and tried not to feel self-conscious and nervous.
Why hadn’t Daiki toldl him they’d be meeting his grandfather? Sage would have liked to prepare and would have brought a present to give him.
When the hug ended, Daiki introduced Sage.
He’d never felt like a greeting was such a test before, but he was determined to make the best impression he could. Sage preferred to err on the side of formality.
Daiki gave Sage a reassuring smile and then explained, “I didn’t tell Sage he’d be meeting you. Partly because I couldn’t remember if you’d be up here this weekend or next. And since you refuse to have a cell phone—”
“It’s okay. You’re here. I’m here. And I’ve met your friend.” That seemed like an ongoing discussion that Daiki’s grandfather waved off.
Daiki and Sage retook their seats after the older man sat down.
He squinted and looked between Sage and Daiki. “How long have you loved each other?”
Daiki squeaked, “Grandfather! What do you mean? We’ve only just met.”
His grandfather chuckled and muttered, “I thought I was the one with the bad vision.”
“You accept your grandson?” The question fell out of Sage’s mouth before he could call the words back.
Daiki’s grandfather sipped his tea and smiled. “What’s to accept? Reality is what it is. We can fight against our true selves and deny the truth, but it’s fruitless. Reality and truth remain as constants. Now I ask again, how long have you loved each other?”
Sage decided to make the most of the opportunity. “Almost from the first day I met him, sir.”
Daiki leaned back, and his mouth dropped open.
Daiki’s grandfather leaned forward. “Do tell.”
Grinning, Sage was happy to share. “We attended a meeting together, and Daiki dropped a teacup. I couldn’t stop staring at him. It was like everything got completely quiet. All I could hear was my heart beating for him.”
“Good man. Not everyone is willing to listen to what their heart is saying.”
Daiki’s grandfather must have approved because the rest of the time he plied Sage with special teas and sweets.
After about two hours, Daiki’s grandfather insisted they leave before it got too close to dusk.
They said their goodbyes and started the hike down the steps.
Through the trees, Sage could see the fiery colors of the setting sun. “Look at those oranges.”
Daiki nodded and pointed out, “Various shades of orange, yes, but see the golds, and on that side, it almost goes to plum.”
Charmed yet again, Sage couldn’t help but tease. “So orangey purple?”
“Plum,” Daiki
insisted, like this was a line he’d not cross.
Sage laughed. “Okay, got it. Plum. I bet that look of abject horror is the same I’d wear if you suggested I use no-name drumheads. Come on, we should be down before it’s dark.”
“I could do these paths blindfolded—wait, that’s it.” Daiki yanked him to a stop as his words bounced through the trees. Several birds sitting on the torii gates they were under squawked and flew away.
“What?” Sage stared at him, trying to read his mind but failing.
“You don’t need to see your drums to play them, right?”
“Of course not.” Sage used the same drums configuration he’d perfected in middle school.
Daiki’s grin seemed to light the twilight. “How about a blindfold?”
Unable to restrain himself, Sage snarked, “Kinky, but what do you mean?”
Barely sparing him a wink to acknowledge Sage’s wildly funny reference, Daiki continued, “One of the things I’m struggling with in Kashi-sei’s manga is that everything is too perfect, but wouldn’t this be the exact thing you want to share with the audience?”
“That I started a band without realizing I have stage fright?” Sage put all the “are you serious” he could fit into his tone.
“You’ve got an issue, and you’re working through it. You’re not ignoring your mental health. There’s no shame to this struggle, and it’s not meant to be hidden, but highlighted. Isn’t Kashi-sei all about visibility?”
Sexy and smart. Sage congratulated himself on falling for Daiki. “Fuck, you’re not wrong but—”
“If it’s too personal to include, I understand.” Daiki began trudging down the stairs again.
“No, you’re right. This is my internal struggle, and allowing the fans to see me overcome it or crash and burn is how it should be.” Sage should be honest if he needed medicine to allow him on stage. “America has a huge problem with stigma about using legal chemical intervention for enhancing the quality of life, which seems crazy since too many self-medicate with alcohol and nonlegal drugs.”
Daiki nodded and then asked, “Do you think hearing the crowd but not seeing actual people might help?”
Sage was afraid to say. “Yeah, maybe. It’s worth a try, along with that herbal medicine or something else you mentioned earlier…. What?”
