It turned out, that no, people would not forget about it so easily. While I could usually look to Reina as a shining beacon of common sense, compassion, and good advice, she’d missed the mark on all three points. The video would not stop spreading, and it had grown from being a local oddity to a national news sensation. The original video had been spread hundreds of thousands of times – not counting the numerous reposts that must have contributed to the frenzy.

At some point the press had found my parents home telephone number and had been blowing up the phone every second of the day for the entire weekend. Dad eventually got tired of it and damn near ripped the cord out of the wall in the process. “Vultures…” he griped, the rare occasion where I’d seen him get angry at other people.

I knew I was in over my head when a morning news show dedicated a segment to the backlash against harassers like the men who I’d confronted. I’d captured some kind of national mood, in a country where staying in your lane was enforced through contract and peer pressure. The thought of getting physical with a harasser was just something that nobody could fathom.

The school had deployed a vaguely written response. I had to assume that my teacher, being smart, had talked the principal out of putting words into my mouth. It simply asked for reporters to treat the school’s phonelines with respect and reiterated their policy of not sharing information about their students with outside bodies.

Amazingly, all of this had combined to keep my name out of the news. At least for the moment. I’d been coronated with a thousand silly nicknames by the churning waters of the internet. “Finger-chan,” the “Ultimate Feminist,” a weird portmanteau combining schoolgirl with being stepped on – I shudder to think what kind of person would use that.

That being said, it did not stop people from talking in the school itself. I’d become a celebrity for better or worse. A lot of the boys were afraid that I’d break every bone in their body if they got too close, and some of the girls too. I was just trying to keep my head down.

Johnny slumped over in his chair, “Why’d you have to go and do that Miyako?”

“I didn’t know that it’d blow up!”

“This is a good thing right,” Kei shouted from behind the drum set, “More exposure!”

“No,” Johnny contested, “Nobody’s going to know that she’s performing until they get there, stupid.”

“Oi, when they invite you onto one of those morning shows, plug our band, yeah?”

“Do we even have a name yet? No. That’s right,” I responded, “Am I going to plug the music club?”

“Johnny and the Maniacs.”

“Terrible. Vetoing that.” Johnny huffed and kicked the back of my chair.

Shinsuke kept silent as we argued instead of worked on our piece for the gig. Matoi had come through with a few suggestions since it was more his wheelhouse than ours. We didn’t have any original material, so we’d be covering some other people’s music instead. Matoi had gone to the bathroom, leaving us to bicker like a group of children.

Johnny laughed at his own joke before even saying it, “Miyako and the radical feminists.”

Kei groaned, “That’ll age poorly.”

“It’s funnier than Johnny and the maniacs,” I quipped. “Here’s a thought, let’s not put someone’s name in the front of it like we’re from the forties.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a retro throwback.”

“There is when we’re trying to be trendy. What are you, my dad?”

“It doesn’t even matter,” Kei butted in, “We’re not going to announce who we are to the couples eating are we? Oh, we’re Johnny and the losers – buy our CD that doesn’t exist.”

“I made a twitter actually.”

“Bullshit.”

Johnny pulled out his phone and hammered away until he opened his twitter app, “Look.” He held the phone out in front of Kei, who leaned over the drum set to get a closer look. He visibly winced.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself there.”

“There’s nothing on it yet!”

“Yeah, because we don’t even have a name!”

The doors slid open and Matoi re-entered the fray. “Have you all been arguing since I left?”

“Yes, they have,” Shinsuke admitted, twanging a string on his bass guitar. Matoi was visibly annoyed with our usual routine of half an hours argument about the name of the band before anything was actually played. I stood from my chair and picked up the microphone, wanting to press the issue so we could get something done.

“Did you all read up on your parts?” The rest of the group nodded to the affirmative. “Alright.” He sat down behind the electronic keyboard and pointed to Kei, “Lead us in.” Kei cracked his knuckles and adjusted his grip before beginning to hammer out the beat to the song that Matoi had picked out. For Kei it was child’s play – he had the arms of a strongman and the rhythm of a professional.

Crunch time.

Let’s be honest. This was the last place I wanted to be. I’d be struggling with this for a while, but I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself. I didn’t want to be the frontman of the band. Maybe it was because I was waiting for the reality to come in – going up in a poof of smoke at the worst time and being Hideki again.

I swallowed my fear and prepared myself. The rest of the band came in, and I started singing. Just like the karaoke session – the words flowed from my mouth like water. I entered a trance where that fear that had paralyzed me just seconds earlier disappeared into nothing. I found myself growing more and more enthused.

It was a sappy one. About love and heart, the kind of thing you’d hear on the radio in the morning. A ballad to somebody much older than me. Who has a job and responsibilities. What was in my future? I didn’t know. I didn’t know if I’d still be Miyako by the end of all this. Would I be Hideki again?

I hit the high note, perfectly, and held it.

The song ended. There was a moment of silence between us. “Wow.” My cheeks flared red as I felt four pairs of eyes on me. Matoi shook his head, “Why didn’t you take the front before?”

Johnny cackled and pointed at me, “Look, she’s gone all red!”

“This is exactly why!”

DWS

Hi! I'm back again. I've been in a slump recently - suffering from some tough times and feelings. Sorry if you were waiting for the next chapter for too long.