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Awaken from a Dream

Page 11

by Yoshikazu Takeuchi


  Yukiko glanced over to Yoriko, who was sitting on a sofa near the makeup table. Her manager looked on with a troubled brow.

  The singer gave her as bright a smile as she could muster and said, “Yoriko-san, try not to think about it too much. If he comes, he comes.”

  Yoriko nodded in acceptance. “Well, put on a good show today,” the manager said, sounding more reassuring than Yukiko could have managed in her position. “I took a peek at the audience, and the seats are absolutely packed. I heard there are hundreds who couldn’t even get in.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Yukiko said without pausing at her makeup. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget how grateful I am to have them.” She reached for the outfit she’d chosen for the event, then asked, “How much longer until I go on?”

  Yoriko glanced at her watch. “About fifteen minutes.”

  Nearly half of the Marusho department store’s rooftop space had been reserved for the live concert. The ice cream, yakisoba, and various other food stands had been cleared away, and a stage erected in front of the open space.

  These department store temporary event spaces were often slapdash affairs, but Marusho went to the effort of doing it right. The stage platform scaffolding was solidly in place, and they had even set up a stage truss complete with lights.

  Some four hundred chairs had been provided, and all of them were full. A standing-room crowd made up another three hundred or so attendees. People had even filled the rooftop’s amusement area, where there was a modest carousel, single-seat miniature trains, and other smaller-scale attractions. According to the event organizer, Marusho had never had a more highly-attended event.

  As Yukiko walked from the green room to the backstage wing, she looked out at the packed crowd and couldn’t help but feel deeply moved.

  There’s so many people, she thought. And they’re all here to support me.

  Yukiko hadn’t become an idol because she wanted to be one. The talent agency had decided that was what she was going to do. It wasn’t an idea that had come from within her. “Pop idol” was simply a role for her to fill. But as her fans’ outpouring of excited kinetic energy washed over her, for the first time, she felt glad she had become an idol. Now it was her turn to repay them by putting on the very best show she could. She focused her mind on the show, and determination filled her completely.

  As long as she was an idol, she would always have followers who weren’t normal. Unbalanced fans would be drawn to her—and perverts, too. Some might try to threaten her like the man in the rabbit suit.

  Yukiko drew strength from the cheering crowd and redoubled her resolve. I refuse to let them beat me!

  A single plainclothes policeman stood at his post next to the freight elevator at the rear of the event hall holding Yukiko’s exhibit. His job was to check every person who went in or out of that elevator.

  But he hadn’t been given any concrete details from his superiors—he was only told to watch for “suspicious-looking individuals.”

  He knew that a popular idol singer named Tsukioka Yukiko was making an appearance up on the roof, but as far as he knew, he wasn’t there for her protection. His best guess was that he had been posted in case there was a stampede and mass panic.

  This is an awful lot of fuss for just one girl, he thought. He was supposed to have had the day off and wasn’t especially happy about being forced to work an overtime shift instead.

  The policeman had seen Tsukioka Yukiko sing on television once. She looked mild-mannered and mostly unremarkable, and he remembered her voice as being nothing special, either. So why on earth were so many people coming to see such an ordinary girl?

  The world is full of things that don’t make any sense, thought the officer, who was atypically closed-minded for a man only in his mid-twenties.

  That was when it happened.

  The freight elevator’s rusty metal doors groaned open with a terrible scraping sound. For a moment, the policeman’s body went rigid. From the first moment he saw the figure that stepped out from the elevator, he thought he sensed a malicious presence—something too horrifying to be witnessed by the human eye. But what emerged was nothing but an adorable animal mascot—a rabbit in overalls. Its ears stood straight up.

  It’s just someone in a costume, he thought in a mixture of relief and anticlimactic disappointment. The rabbit was probably part of the rooftop amusement park.

  The policeman let out a deep sigh. When he was in college, he took a job as a mascot for just a single day. He had been a rabbit, too. It had been a sweltering day in the middle of summer break, and the inside of the costume had been hotter than hell. Just one hour wearing it put him in a state of dehydration.

  With the wistful remembrance of a hardship passed, the policeman watched the rabbit walk by. It gave him a slight bow and walked toward the emergency staircase that lead up to the back end of the roof.

  Noticing that patches of the rabbit’s fur were knotted up, the policeman muttered, “Someone oughta clean that thing.”

  He must be headed up to the roof to give out balloons to the kids, he thought.

  But something still bothered him. Why had he felt that momentary terror at seeing the rabbit? As he tilted his head in bewilderment, he kept his eyes on the door to the staircase where the rabbit had gone.

  With a deeply concerned expression, Yoriko said, “It’s not too late. Can’t we still call this off somehow?”

  “Yoriko-kun,” Kanda said with a not-this-again scowl, “why do you always have to be like this? You know we can’t cancel the show now. You’ve been in this business long enough to understand full well what would happen if we did. Besides, Yukiko is standing by, ready to go, and in good spirits.”

  Kanda and Yoriko were seated in the small rooftop level office Yukiko was using for a green room. From the window, they could see the singer standing in the stage wing, waiting for her cue.

  “Of course, I know what would happen,” Yoriko said, “but I still say we need to cancel it. Call it a woman’s intuition. I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen.”

  Kanda let out a heavy sigh and pressed his palms against his knees. “Let me guess—that phantom rabbit will appear again. And he’ll attack Yukiko like he did Shimizu-kun.”

  “I don’t appreciate you making light of this,” Yoriko said. “I’m serious. I’m deeply worried about what could happen to Yukiko-chan.”

  Kanda put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen. I understand how you feel. I wasn’t joking. I really do think that rabbit got Shimizu-kun. That’s why I convinced my police chief friend to give us three plainclothes officers for the day. Yukiko’s volunteer guards are operating in groups of two, and I’ve assigned them posts throughout the event space. The department store’s security and staff are on alert, ready to act the moment anything happens. Even if that rabbit does show up, he won’t be able to lay a finger on Yukiko.”

  Yoriko felt somewhat reassured by his words, but her expression remained unconvinced. “I am worried about that rabbit,” she said, “but that’s not all I’m afraid of. What really concerns me are all those people.”

  She turned her eyes to the sea of Yukiko’s fans that filled the roof.

  “What are you talking about?” Kanda said with surprise. “We should be glad they’re here. No idol inspires this much excitement these days. We need to nurture that kind of audience, not fear them.”

  Yoriko’s face remained grim. “There could be a panic.”

  “A panic?”

  “That’s right,” Yoriko said. “Think about it. The roof is packed to the brim. If there are police officers here, they sure aren’t enforcing the fire code for capacity.” As she spoke, she became more and more agitated. “The crowd stretches all the way down the staircase. And they’re all here with one single-minded purpose—to see Yukiko-chan. Even the smallest accident could turn into a catastrophe.”

  Her bleak tone unsettled Kanda, but he said, “You’re overthinking things,
Yoriko-kun. Anyway, the show will start in a matter of minutes, and it’ll all be over within an hour. Can’t we just cheer up a little for her big moment?”

  In the stage’s wing, Yukiko was checking over her outfit one last time. She had on a white turtleneck sweater over a black corduroy dress. The dress went down to just above her knees, revealing athletic legs clad in black stockings. For her shoes, she had gone with her favorite pair of black pumps.

  She put her hands together and said a little prayer to herself. It was something she always did before every event, be it a TV appearance or a handshake meet-and-greet.

  The busy backstage staff all looked nervous for the performance. The PA engineer finished readying the tape containing Yukiko’s backing tracks as he listened to orders coming over his headset.

  It was about to start.

  The fans’ cheers swelled like a tidal wave. Hollers and whistles and foot stomps resounded across the roof. This was to be Yukiko’s first real live performance, and as she felt the crowd’s anticipation, her legs began to shake.

  “God, please look over me,” she said under her breath. “Please allow this event to be a success.” Then, fired up, she turned toward the stage.

  The audience’s shouts began to sound almost furious. Their anticipation to see Tsukioka Yukiko live was driving them wilder and wilder.

  At the entrance to the rooftop, a security guard was arguing with the line of fans. The crowd was attempting to press through the entrance and tempers had flared.

  “It’s free admission,” a long-haired youth at the front of the pack said. “There’re no tickets! So let me in already.”

  He pushed against the security guard’s chest and tried to get by. The guard quickly pushed the young man back. As they struggled, the angry fan grunted and growled, and a group of other fans pushed at his back.

  The guard reached for the transceiver radio at his belt so that he could call for backup. But before he could, a high-pitched man’s voice came from somewhere down the stairs. The rooftop was a cacophony of crowd noises, but somehow the shrill voice pierced through the din and across the audience.

  “It’s Tsukioka Yukiko!”

  The first to react was the long-haired youth trying to force his way past the guard. He shouted, “She’s—she’s down there?” and turned and ran down the stairs.

  That was the spark. All the fans who hadn’t made it onto the rooftop ran down the stairs after him. They knocked down a child playing on the landing where the stairs doubled back. The boy began to scream and cry, but the child’s voice only agitated the crowd and spurred them to run faster.

  It wasn’t just the fans at the rooftop’s entrance now, either. The entire audience stood up from their seats.

  “It looks like Yukiko-chan isn’t appearing on stage, but down in the exhibit,” said one.

  “She’s not coming here?” cried another.

  “Behind us,” a third shouted. “Behind us! Yukiko is back that way!”

  Standing at the seat he’d secured in the front row, one impassioned fan looked to be in shock. His face went pale. Then he was scrambling to pack away his tripod-mounted camera, and made a dash for the staircase, attempting to beat the rest of the crowd to the punch.

  Folding chairs began to tumble over. Attendees started getting swept away and knocked down by the surging crowd. Angry shouts arose all around. One simple phrase shouted by one heartless person had thrown the entire area into total panic.

  Kanda and Yoriko burst out from the green room. For a brief second, they both froze in shock at the erupting chaos, then quickly regained composure and began shouting orders to the security team and staff.

  For a moment, Yukiko didn’t realize what was going on. One minute, she was ready to step on stage and deliver her best performance, and the next, angry shouts filled the air, and her fans all stood up at once.

  Hundreds of people took off running at the same time and in the same direction like a herd of stampeding buffalo. Yukiko watched the stampede aghast, but for some reason, her emotions remained utterly calm. At one point, she thought, This is like that scene from The Lion King.

  Not knowing what she should do, the idol returned to the green room to look for Yoriko. The event would likely be canceled. The stampede might not go without injuries. If that happened, those hyena-like newspaper reporters would come around looking for someone to blame. For that reason—and every other—she hoped that no one would be hurt.

  When she reached the green room, no one was inside. She considered returning to the stage, but thought better of it and instead decided to leave via the emergency staircase down the hall from the green room. If anyone saw her back on stage, the chaos would only increase. For now, she would go to the staff room next to her exhibit.

  Hurrying now, she exited the green room and turned right. Stacks of cardboard boxes lined the hall, narrowing the passage there. Beyond the boxes, a metal fire door led to the stairs.

  The hallway’s fluorescent lights didn’t quite reach to the end of the hall. The dimly lit space made Yukiko feel nervous.

  Under her breath, she told herself, “I need to find Yoriko-san as fast as I can.” Walking quickly, she headed for the end of the hall.

  Then, just as she slipped past the stacks of boxes, she heard a rustling noise behind her. Reflexively, she looked over her shoulder. Farther down the hall, a figure stood backlit by the soft glow coming from the green room. For a moment, Yukiko’s mind froze.

  Then she wished it had stayed that way. She recognized who it was easily—it was the last person she wanted to meet.

  It was the rabbit—that monster. Until now, he had been lurking around her like a shadow, but now he had come to confront her directly.

  The event area had descended into chaos, stretching the heavy security thin. The rabbit hadn’t failed to capitalize on the opportunity. He’d waited for the security to go out onto the roof, and when they were all outside, he went inside.

  He’s worked through every detail, Yukiko thought. Keeping her eyes on him, she slowly backed away.

  Silhouetted by the lights, the rabbit’s ears stood up. He had seen her.

  An indistinct growl came from his mouth. Was he enraged or elated? Yukiko couldn’t tell. Whatever the case, the rabbit was excited.

  Overwhelming terror hit her in waves, so strong they might have made her faint. But deep down, she remained surprisingly calm.

  Maybe I’m more resilient than I look, she thought.

  In a dark hallway, she faced down this rabbit, whose true identity and capabilities remained a mystery. If this wasn’t danger, then nothing was. And yet she stood against him in full control of her emotions. Perhaps facing him out in the open and so close up had enabled her newfound resolve.

  As she backed away, she reached her hand behind her in search of the fire door’s handle. The rabbit tilted his head quizzically. He seemed to be trying to figure out what she was doing.

  Her fingers touched cold metal. The fire door, she thought. Her hand quickly found the handle and turned it without a moment’s pause.

  The door clicked open.

  Hearing the sound, the rabbit shook his head. Letting out an unnatural scream, he sprang into a charging run.

  As soon as she had slipped through the open door, she flung it shut. As the door swung closed, the rabbit barreled straight into it. The metal shook, and the impact sent Yukiko flying backward.

  The rabbit rebounded, landing in a heap just on the other side. It looked as if he’d been at least mildly concussed.

  Yukiko landed hard on her backside. She had to struggle to breathe through the sharp pain, but she managed to scramble to her feet and flee down the stairway.

  The rabbit held his hands to his head and arose unsteadily.

  Yukiko came running into the staff room shouting unintelligibly. But the dreary, bare concrete room was empty. Everyone had gone up to the roof.

  Yukiko’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. The rabbit was still pursui
ng her, but no one was here to come to her rescue. She turned around to face the door she’d left half-open behind her, and the rabbit suddenly appeared in the gap.

  Yukiko jumped and let out a startled peep, then quickly looked around for anything she could use to defend herself.

  On the table in the center of the room was a large and heavy glass ashtray. She grabbed it and faced the rabbit, weapon at the ready. The rabbit chuckled. His big, round left eye blinked at her, as did the half-melted right one, its eyelid twitching erratically up and down. It was an utterly repulsive sight.

  Yukiko rushed at the rabbit, taking the ashtray in both hands and swinging it hard against the rabbit’s fat head. A startled, muffled grunt emanated from inside the costume, and the rabbit sank down to the floor. Again Yukiko beat the ashtray against the top of the rabbit’s head, and then again and again. She kept on striking him, not even stopping when her arms began to tire and her muscles began to ache.

  The costume’s forehead split open, revealing a cotton-like backing. It looked like the rabbit’s gray matter was spilling out, and the sight was oddly chilling.

  The rabbit glared up at her and curled up the corners of its buck-toothed mouth into a ghastly smile. Yukiko’s hands froze for a fraction of an instant.

  That was all the time the rabbit needed to reach up with his furry hands and grab her around her slender waist. He yanked her down against him. Yukiko flailed with her entire body, but the rabbit’s strength overpowered her, and he drew her into a bear hug.

  The idol’s arms were still free. She pushed against his sides and his stomach to try to escape, but he held her firm. The rabbit’s face, sinister and unnerving, was right up next to hers. At such a close range, it seemed absurdly huge. She could see each and every hair, and the melted plastic eye bulged out in gruesome close-up detail, while the foul smell of ammonia and sweat radiated from inside the suit and assaulted her nostrils.

 

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