“Number 15.”
Quite honestly, this wait was complete torture. Sitting in a room full of rival vocalists, auditioning and competing for the same SEED record label contract caused enough anxiety for you for a few months, at least. It took quite a bit of effort to stop concentrating on everyone else, but the audition you were about go through with. You needed to be at the top of your game, or you wouldn't make it.
“Number 16.”
At the very least, you were hoping to leave a good enough impression so that, if another contest were held, you might have a better chance then. But then again, you still really really hoped you'd make it. Somehow, you doubted there would be another competition like this anytime soon. It was a miracle you had even made it past the preliminaries.
Let me take a moment to explain your situation: You, being the great and talented vocalist/keyboardist (First Name) (Last Name) of a local duo called Oblivion X (or Obex for short), had taken an opportunity to become a major-label artist. And a great vocalist you were; the small, yet dedicated fan base Obex had was enough proof of that. Of course, your best friend Haru Tokaharu was to be credited as well. He was the backup vocalist and guitarist, and the object of many of your female fans' affections. And, you had to admit, he really was quite the looker.
“Number 17.”
Blushing at the thought, you tried to not think about his drool-worthy body and face to die for and – Aw, damn. Let's just face it; you were head over heels in love with him. Not just his appearance; you weren't that shallow. Having known him for as long as you could remember, you were quite familiar with his personality.
Although quite cocky and arrogant at times, and even something of a pervert, Haru really was just a sweetie on the inside. He was kind and caring. No matter what, he was always willing to put you before himself, and would probably even die for you if need be. He was always there for you when you needed him most. Haru really was quite the catch.
...well, he would be for any girl but you. Despite your undying affections for him, he seemed completely unaware of them. You being you, you had never quite gotten the courage to tell him, either. Most likely, it would destroy your friendship, or at the very least just make things awkward between the two of you. Let's not forget the fact that he probably didn't return your affections, and never would. Though talented musically, you never felt you were all that appealing physically.
“Number 18.”
Anyway~ On with describing your current situation. There had been an ad in the newspaper announcing SEED's competition. After some prodding on Haru's part, you had been convinced to enter the competition. You were skeptical, doubting you had the vocal talents for a major label company, but somehow he gotten you to think otherwise. Another reason you were so hesitant on even trying was that, if you by some miracle won, Haru would be left behind. Haru had been quick to blow off that excuse.
“Once you win, just tell your producer or agent that you want me in with you. Tell them you work best if I'm working with you or something. Trust me, it won't be a problem.”
So says the guy with the huge ego. He thinks he can get away with everything just because of his good looks and self-proclaimed “godly charisma”. Yeah. Right. Just keep on thinking that, Haru.
If you had been completely honest with him, you would have told him how afraid you were of not winning. How afraid you were of being rejected; of not being good enough. You didn't want to have to face that disappointment. Quite frankly, you'd dealt with enough of not being good enough, of being rejected, already.
“Number 19.”
In your lifetime, you had been 'rejected' a total of 9 times. You had been put into 9 foster families total since your parents' death when you were 11 years old. Now, being 15, you were all on your own. The last foster family you had been placed in was nearly a year ago, when you were 14. Through some tedious legal processes, you had been able to get yourself qualified for a new program for kids like you.
As long as you were deemed mature and responsible enough to care for yourself, you were given an all-expense paid apartment and a set amount of money each month for food, clothing, and anything else you might need. You were kept a close eye on, however; every other week your case manager was coming over to make sure everything was going smoothly. If even one thing was out of place, you'd be kicked out of the program.
Among other things, one of the qualifications for the program was maintaining at least an A average in your schoolwork. Moving from foster family to foster family had done quite the number on school for you. Though you were smart enough to be at least a year ahead of what most your age were in, you were only in the 7th grade. This was mostly due to how often you had moved from foster family to foster family; no sooner would you get settled in one school, but you'd be sent off to another. It made it hard for you to keep up with your schoolwork, and because of that you had failed twice.
So, now that you were on your own, you made an effort to prove that you were fully capable of being in the 9th grade or more. You were home schooled too, which was even better for you. It was easier for you to work on your own time rather than a set schedule.
Despite your hesitation, you had sent in the appropriate application and a sample recording of your singing as asked. And, to your astonishment, you had passed the preliminaries. So very exciting, yes, but now that you were actually here it was enough to make you want to vomit due to nerves. Oh, how you wished Haru was here with you.
“Number 20.”
Anxiously, you watched as the 19th competitor went into the judging room and came back out, looking both nervous but most of all, relieved. Usually, they came back all smug looking, bragging to the nearest competitors.
“Good luck with your audition. You'll need it. You weren't there to see it, but the judges were absolutely amazed with my audition. You should've seen their faces!”
One of them tried using those lame tactics on you, but you had just flipped them off. Nervous as you were, you weren't about to fall for one of those stupid tricks. The whole “you've already lost, so why even try?” deal, or the “Just looking at you, I can tell you're a shoo-in. You could probably win this without even working up a sweat.” In both cases, they were just trying to get you to not do your best so you lose.
The best one you'd heard so far was from a girl sitting not to far from you. Madoka, you think she had introduced herself as? Yeah, that was it. As soon as you had walked in, she had told you something along the lines of the winner already being chosen, and the competition just being for show. The only reply she had gotten from you was a glare and the middle finger.
Then, just as she had done to you, she said the same thing to a blonde girl that had come in a little late. You couldn't believe it when the girl actually bought it, too.
“Number 21.”
The aforementioned girl stood up after a moment, heading towards the door where the judging would be held. So she was number 21, eh?
You were so close now... Fumbling around inside your pocket, you pulled out the pin you had been given upon entering the label company building. On the pin was the number 22, printed in large black letters.
Absently, you wondered if you were what the record company was looking for. Sure, your vocal talents had been enough to get you into the preliminaries, but were you really their 'type'? Every single other girl in the room was dressed in pretty, feminine outfits. The kind you're likely to see on Pop Idols or the like. The kind of girls that SEED usually worked with. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite.
Instead of the pretty pinks and blues and other pastel colors the girls wore, you wore black, gray, red and white. Your outfit consisted of tight, ripped and patched jeans and a red, black, white plaid skirt to cover it. Up top, you wore a plain blank tank-top. Over that was a long-sleeve black jacket. It had no zipper or buttons; mostly, it looked like a collared shirt with its front portion cut out. Where the front of the jacket would be were criss-crossing strings of red and white. The collar of the jacket was a plaid that matched the skirt.
Various patches and pins and jewelry also adorned your outfit like any other typical Jrock outfit. Your (color) hair was cut in a way that the bangs were slanted, covering one eye. Needless to say, you had earned the attention of the other girls in the room when you had arrived without even trying.
Sighing, you sat back in your seat. What was taking so long? Every other girl had come out of the judging room within five to ten minutes time. Had something gone wrong with the blonde girl's audition? She had looked pretty nervous when she went in... Of course, nearly every other girl did too, even after having auditioned. Maybe the girl had gotten so nervous, she had gotten sick all over the judges, or maybe she had passed out or something, unable to handle the stress. Maybe she had started to break down and cry from the stress; it didn't seem uncommon in these type of situations. A few of the girls, after coming out of their audition, did just that. Or, maybe the girl-
“Everyone, the winner has been decided! We'd like to thank you all for taking the time to come out today. You may all go home now!”
-had won?!
“The winner... has been decided?”
Looking down at your pin, you frowned deeply. Number 22. 22. One number after 21. That girl was number 21.
How... was this fair? How? The disappointment you felt welling inside of you was immeasurable. It just didn't seem fair that they had decided before everyone had the opportunity to audition. No; it wasn't fair! It wasn't fair at all! They could have at least humored the rest of the girls who had yet to audition!
“Damn it...” the words barely escaped your lips. As every other girl in the room was beginning to file out of the room dejectedly; some crying, others deathly silently in their disappointment, you stood from your feet and stamped your foot. “Damn it! This isn't fair! Not everyone got to audition! This isn't fair!”
This isn't fair...
“You're kidding me, right?”
You sighed and flopped down onto your bed. “Nope.”
Haru cursed and stomped his foot, running a hand through his medium-long black locks and looking off to the side. He chewed on the side of his lip. It was a strange habit he had for when he was upset or angry. Actually, it was quite cute, but you weren't about to tell him that. No way; especially not now.
“How is it that they can get away with something like that? Couldn't they have at least humored everyone else that didn't get a chance to audition?”
“Exactly what I thought.” You crossed your legs in front of you, resting your elbows on your knees and leaning onto them. Staring at the carpeted floor, you tried not to focus on how awful you felt right now, you sighed. “This was exactly why I didn't even want to try.”
Though you couldn't see it, Haru's eyes softened. He took a seat next to you and wrapped an arm around you, taking you by surprise. You were barely able to suppress the heat that wanted to rush to your face.
“Hey, cheer up. It's those losers' fault, not yours. They don't know what they're missing.” He squeezed your shoulder comfortingly, sending a small smile your way. That wonderful smile that, no matter what the occasion, always seemed a little bit arrogant and perverted.
You grinned in return, subtly grabbing one of the pillows from your bed. “Aww, Haru...” You smacked him in the face with the pillow, jumping off the bed and away from him, grinning even wider. “You're so creepy when you're being sentimental. Like a 40-year old pedophile trying to give little kids a taste of his 'Popsicle'.”
It took Haru a moment to regain his senses, and when he did he threw the pillow back at you and missed.
“Creepy am I?!”
“Yep!” You nodded, only to 'eep' when he lunged at you. Yet again, he missed and you took this chance to run towards your apartment door. By the time Haru had gotten back up from the ground, you were already out the door and running down the hallway.
“Don't think you're getting away!” He called, running after you and slamming the door behind him.
“Like you could catch up!” You called over your shoulder, running towards the steps. Hey, you had a gig tonight anyway, and it wouldn't hurt to get a little exercise by running there, would it?
“Just you wait!” Haru took off at full speed, gaining on you quickly. It was only moments before he was hot on your tail, just within your reach. When you looked over your shoulder and saw this, you sped up, your eyes wide.
“H'o shit!” Pushing yourself to your physical limits, you sped up, dodging in and out of traffic with Haru not far behind.
“Izumi, what is it that you've come to see me about?”
“It's about Takuto, boss.” The dog-eared blonde stepped up to the top shinigami, Jonathan trailing behind him.
“Takuto~ Takuto~” Izumi ignored Jonathan's random singing behind him.
“What is it about him?” It took a moment before Izumi answered, but when he did he sounded rather well rehearsed in what he said.
“I'm sure you're aware that he hasn't had a single successful job. He has yet to retrieve a single soul. But, I have an... idea. One that might prove helpful for Takuto.” As dirty as Izumi felt for doing this – because even he had limits to what he did, he paused, waiting for his boss to acknowledge what he said.
“Go on.”
“From what I've personally witnessed, it's appears to me that the reason Takuto hasn't successfully retrieved a soul yet... is due to Meroko.” Lowering his head so that his hair shaded his eyes, Izumi had to force himself to continue. Meroko might hate him for awhile for doing this, but he felt that it had to be done. If he were to ever get Meroko back, he needed to take... extreme measures. He only hoped that it would all work out in the end.
“It seems that she's been slacking off in her training. So, I propose... transferring Takuto's training over to someone else.”
Boss didn't say anything for quite some time; Izumi could feel his eyes studying him from beneath his black robe. Then, he said:
“That seems like a reasonable proposition. However, there is a problem: there are no shinigami that would currently be able to undertake him as a trainee.”
Izumi waited, almost sure that his proposition would be denied.
“However, I have another idea. Takuto will continue to work on the Mitsuki Koyama case with Meroko. But... I will assign him an individual case that I would like you to keep an eye on for me. A case that will... test Takuto's shinigami abilities. Do you think that you will be able to handle this?”
“A test~ Hey, Izumi, do you like tests?”
Izumi ignored Jonathan once more, nodding at his boss. He was unable to suppress the small smirk that creeped onto his face.
'Even better... It will allow me more time with Meroko, without angering her. Excellent.'
“Yes, boss.”
“Good. The case I will assign to Takuto is... (First Name) (Last Name).”
