I let Haruka take me out for soba because I knew she wouldn’t stop pestering. She’d seen me scowling in the mirror before rehearsal and I should have guessed I wouldn’t get out of there alone; she was more perceptive of my moods than my own mother. She was my senpai, and I was a nice girl, so avoiding the subject was out of the question. She paid for me, found us a booth way in the corner, and thanked the counter girl grandly. The shop was close to the studio, and paparazzi never found it very rewarding to buzz around the place. Our actions in this part of town were repetitive and boring, for the most part.
Of course, tonight the conversation was bound to be out of the ordinary.
“I think my period is late.”
I had mumbled it into my food, so it took Haruka a moment to digest what I’d said. She stared at my darkly, not speaking at first. She was pretty and sexy enough to be gravure, but when she acted like this all I could see was a stern big sister. “Yumi-chan, what do you mean?”
“It’s probably nothing. It’s just bugging me,” I shrugged one shoulder and avoided her eyes as well as I could. “Stop it, stop staring like that.”
“You need to be sure it’s nothing. This isn’t anything to be casual about. I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.”
“I don’t.” I was mumbling again.
Haruka quietly ate a little, using the noodles as protracted ellipses. Her silence compelled me to speak. She probably knew it would.
“I think it might be Toshito. I mean, I know it is. If it’s anybody. You know.” I hadn’t wanted to say it too loud, because I wanted to pretend I’d said something else if she got upset. Toshito was her friend, and I knew how protective she was of our male group members in the first place.
“You’ve had sex with Toshito?” she asked, not at all angry like I had imagined. It was like being quizzed by a teacher, actually.
I nodded, not wanting to give it the gravitas of words, not even to say ‘yes, only once’ or something else incriminating like that. The fact was the fact, the simple glaring fact that was keeping me awake at night for three days now. I didn’t have a period yet. Sex was the last thing on my mind, and in fact when I thought of it even then I got a little bit sick and my throat clenched up.
Now Haruka knew. At least she could keep a secret. At least I hoped she could. She seemed like the type, very noble and kind-hearted. The mother in her just wanted to protect me, I knew, but the big sister wanted to lay into me for having been so careless. Above all, the idol that made the third face of Eve wanted to tell me just what I’d potentially done by fancying myself a regular girl in the first place.
Staring at my bowl, I pushed my noodles around.
“I’ll see what I can do to help,” she finally said. I hated hearing that sort of disappointment in her tone.
* * *
Because her sister was already a model living in Tokyo, Haruka lived in her apartment most of the year. The place was untidy, small, and smelled like twenty different perfumes clashing at once, but it was well-lit and very respectable despite. I told my parents I was going there to play video games after Haruka’s photoshoot. I had my DS in my hands when she opened the door, but she was already pushing a pregnancy test at me. Embarrassed, surprised, and feeling like a complete child, I just kept my head down and nodded while she explained what I had to do. If I didn’t want to talk, she said, that was fine, but she wouldn’t let me leave until I did it.
Haruka was 18. Her sister was 23. Chinatsu was even taller than her sister, but had a smaller waist and nice firm thighs, the kind I’d never been able to build. She looked very regal sitting on the couch in her robe, smoking a cigarette daintily and telling me it was nothing to worry about. She was being more of a help than Haruka, who told her I should be more worried than that. “They’re no big deal,” Chinatsu said, waving a hand at me and then blandly remarking that we were on TV.
Not us, exactly, I corrected her with a chuckle, nearly forgetting the little kit in my hand. It was hard to separate ourselves from other members of COLOR, though. Yasuo was on Music Station tonight, talking about the new single from his solo album. I’d promised him to watch, and felt a little guilty for having forgotten. As usual, just as it always was in the group, I faded into the background while Haruka and Chinatsu bantered.
“This reminds me, I need to marry him.” Chinatsu said, leaning forward to watch.
“You and every other girl in Tokyo.” Haruka sounded a little sullen, and I knew why. Of course she’d been in love with Yasuo; everyone was. Even most boys who met him. He was the ace of the group for a reason, and Anno-san had made it particularly clear when he’d brought the second generation together. Toshito had been first generation, and after meeting Yasuo for the first time he’d summed it up nicely: “They have him now. They’ll never remember us.”
I’d only been in the group for two years. The shelf life of an idol in COLOR was still untested, but for five years there had been no quitters. The third generation would be chosen this summer. If I was forced to graduate, I’d ruin everything for them. The even number of boys and girls. Anno-san’s plans for future concerts. The illusions of any little girl who wanted to meet me or be like me. I still swore there weren’t any, because I was the plain, unremarkable one. My voice wasn’t even that great. I only just kept up in the dances. My boobs hadn’t filled out and I was stick-thin at 16. Haruka was the only older girl, and she told me I just had to wait it out. I’d blossom with age, she said, and the fans who stuck around would love me more for it. She was already an old idol at her age, talking about the ins and outs of the business like she owned it. But I believed her, and I had just agreed to wait happily for my day.
What now? I excused myself quietly to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. If I was pregnant, well…
They’ll never remember me now.
I got angry for a minute, clutching the thing in its plastic wrapper tighter and tighter, clenching my teeth, stomping my feet silently on the vinyl floor. My eyes burned, but I knew I wouldn’t cry. I wasn’t a crying girl. I brushed some loose hair behind one ear and jumped an inch or two when Chinatsu knocked on the door.
“Can I get my drink?” She’d somehow managed to leave a can of coffee on the back of the toilet. I let her in to claim it, and watched her flutter by in her robe, envying her body and feeling for a moment or two like a bitter old woman. She winked at me before she left, and wrinkled her eyebrows in just enough that I knew she was rooting for me.
It calmed me down just enough that I was finally ready to go through with it.
I read through the instructions and muttered along. Two blue boxes. Two blue boxes. All that ran through my mind was two blue boxes. I just had to see two. Otherwise…I didn’t even want to think about it.
At first I couldn’t go. I tried but I was so nervous that it just wouldn’t happen. I think I made it worse. Haruka had been making me some tea, and the timing couldn’t have been better. She brought it to me and we sat on the tub again, both of us not knowing what to say. I started crying without knowing it, without meaning to. I leaned into her chest and heard her heart beating there, strong and normal. She patted my back.
“If you’re in trouble,” she said softly, “no one will tell Toshito. He shouldn’t have to know. The agency will take care of it – they’ll probably send you away to study for a few months, and a doctor will take care of it. France, probably. You have to be prepared, though. You might not want to come back to the group. Yumi-chan, this is a hard job. I think you’re meant to be a real girl in school with real chances in life. You should go and fall in love and go on dates and eat soba wherever you want to without worrying that you look like a wreck. But no matter what happens a year from now, you have to do this, right now. Don’t think about it, just do it.”
She kissed me on my hairline, and held me a little longer. I’d drained my teacup. After a few minutes of silence I told her it was okay for her to leave.
* * *
It was the worst experience of my life. More nerve-racking than the final audition for the group, and more terrifying than following the ambulance to the hospital after my dad broke his leg on the motorcycle. My heart was pounding in my throat by the time it was over, and I emerged from Haruka’s bathroom with glazed eyes. I didn’t quite know where I was walking. I knew my entire face was hot, my fingers were tingling, and I wanted to cry but couldn’t. On the inside I felt cold and dry. I had no tears. I just wanted to forget everything had even happened. I wanted to be normal as soon as possible. Haruka and Chinatsu were kind enough to wait politely while I sat down and pulled my sweater tighter around my body. Yasuo was performing, now, on the television, but no one was watching in that room.
I told them what I’d found out. Thanked them. And left. I wanted to be alone. I forgot my DS and Haruka called me when I was halfway to the train station to say she’d bring it to the studio tomorrow. We had a day off on Sunday, I said, so she could bring it then. I just didn’t need it back right now.
My parents were asleep when I got home. They’d probably expected me to stay at Haruka’s like I always did. I dodged the cat and glided into my room, feeling like a see-through girl. My bed felt almost unfamiliar, and I didn’t make eye contact with any of the faces on the posters around my bedroom. Who knows how long I stared up at the ceiling, thinking but not really thinking.
I pulled out my cell phone and the glare of the light hurt my eyes when the screen came up. I dialed a number. One ring. Two rings.
“Hello?” There was nothing sleepy or rushed about the voice on the other end. In fact, it sounded quite happy to hear from me.
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Yumi-chan? Hi, Yumi-chan!”
“Hello,” I was slowly starting to smile again, “hey, I’m feeling sort of lonely. Did you want to go to the arcade or something?”
“I think…” there was a pause, “I think I can do that. Yes. That would be fun. We haven’t done anything in a while, have we? What a surprise.”
“Yes. I just need to get my mind off some things. Oh, and Toshito?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t write a blog about this.”
He didn’t ask why; he just laughed.
Tags: pregnancy, scandal
WHAT TO DO NOW?