“Shit,” Yukiko muttered darkly as Sachi turned to look at her. She took a deep drink of the beer on the table in front of her with trembling hands. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be.”

“You don’t have to, babe,” Mari soothed her, holding her hand for reassurance. “I can go first.”

“N-No,” Yukiko shook her head, dyed blonde hair shimmering in the lights overhead. “I said I would, and I will.” She took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking again.

“I grew up in Toyone in the Aichi prefecture,” Yukiko began, not meeting my eyes. This was obviously something very painful for her to share and a part of me wanted to tell her to stop, but I knew that look in her eyes. She had begun and wouldn’t be dissuaded. “My dad worked at the Shintoyone Dam and my mom was a schoolteacher. I guess in some ways it was idyllic. There weren’t many of us kids around, but I had a couple of friends and we got to play wherever we wanted.

“I don’t know when or why it started, but my mom and dad began arguing more and more often. At first just sniping at each other but by the time I was 7 the fights had become physical. After a particularly brutal fight one night where my dad broke my mom’s cheek bone, he kicked us both out of the house.

“With no real options my mom moved back in with my grandma and grandpa and uncle in Yaizu. It took some time for my mom’s face to heal properly but she went back to work at a local school soon after I turned 8. I, honestly, didn’t fit. Everything moved very fast. I didn’t have any friends and couldn’t go play like I used to, so I withdrew more and more until I barely spoke at all.

“I was 10 when my uncle began to abuse me,” the look on her face was one disassociated with the words she was saying. A painful memory that happened to someone else.

“My grandparents needed the money my uncle brought in. He had told me time and again if I said anything no one would believe me. Even if they did and he was sent to jail my grandparents, my mom, and I would lose the house.” She took a deep, halting breath, her disassociation fading for a brief instant as the horror and betrayal seeped in. Mari clasped her hand tightly, a lifeline for a woman drowning in the horrors of the past she had no control over.

“You don’t have to finish,” Mari whispered, laying her forehead on Yukiko’s arm comfortingly.

“No…no, I can continue,” Yukiko smiled and smiled in determination. “A-Anyway,” she stammered for a moment, trying simultaneously to remember and forget and paying the emotional toll to do so. “Uh…whew. It went on for a bit. I never told anyone, and I don’t think anyone suspected. If they did, they never said anything about it.

“I…um…” her hands were shaking badly, clinging on to Mari’s for strength. “I wanted to die. I prayed each day to be able to just stop breathing. I was too cowardly to do it myself, but I hoped if I wished hard enough, I could make it happen. Unfortunately, you can’t just wish for something and have it happen. I was hated at school because I was too quiet and gloomy. I lived in terror at home for the times I was left alone with my uncle.

“I knew I was ugly and rotten. I was like an apple sitting in the sun for too long. My uncle had exposed me to the worms, and they had burrowed deep inside and destroyed my core. I hated my face. If it hadn’t been the way it was maybe he wouldn’t have touched me. I hated my body. I hated being afraid. I hated everything about myself.

“O-One night, though, I was sitting in the living room with my mom after she got home from work and a show came on. I don’t remember the name off the top of my head, but it was just a little news thing about idols. I don’t know if it was just good camera work or a trick of the lighting, but when I saw those girls on stage my heart leapt like it hadn’t in years,” Yukiko continued, quietly but determined to get through it.

“They were beautiful. They shone like diamonds on that small stage under those brilliant lights. When they danced it was like angels come to earth. They worked so hard, and I could see the sweat on their forehead, but they made it seem so effortless. I was, honestly, enraptured.

“They weren’t abused by their uncle. They weren’t gloomy and morose. They didn’t want to die. They had friends and everyone was screaming for them. They were wanted. And I wanted that. No…I think I needed that. That stage under those lights was my ticket away from my life. Away from my uncle. Away from everyone that disliked me.

“So, I worked hard. Harder than I’ve ever worked at anything in my life. I didn’t have any money for lessons, so I practiced dancing down by the river. I sang my heart out using a piece of wood as a microphone. As I worked, I got stronger and a few months later I found the courage to tell my mother what had been happening to me. Dancing and singing had given me that agency.

“My uncle was arrested, and my mom got a different job in Tokyo, so we moved here. I worked even harder and got part time jobs to pay for lessons. My mom helped me as well as she could and…eventually, I was accepted into Kunoichi. Being a dancer, being a singer, it saved me in every way someone can be saved.” Yukiko smiled at me.

“People are told idols are shallow husks. Vapid excuses to chase a hollow kind of fame. But idols aren’t husks and any dream you can aspire to is far from hollow. Working, suffering, paying the price for those moments on stage when you shine, and the world is so bright it blinds you and pushes away everything dark is not shallow. It’s vital to so many. It’s been vital for me. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I hadn’t seen those girls under the lights all those years ago, but I thank them each day for being there and lighting my way.”

I had no response. I felt the tears stinging the corners of my eyes but to have someone bare their heart for me to see was horrifying in a way. I was horrified at what she had been forced to go through, but, selfishly, that wasn’t all. I was horrified at the notion of showing that sort of vulnerability to anyone. To open my soul and show my deepest fears was not something I could imagine doing. To think of the terror and self-loathing hiding behind those brilliant eyes and smile made me sad for her. It made me angry for her.

I wanted to hunt the animal that had hurt her down and feed him his own kidneys. I wanted to rip him apart. At least until I looked into Yukiko’s tear-stained face. She held no resentment. She held no more sorrow or horror. It had happened to her but the her it had happened to was no longer the woman sitting at the table across from me. The her holding Mari’s hand and smiling at me was no longer haunted. She had risen like the sun above the sucking mud that had imprisoned her all those years ago.

That terrified girl was gone. She had found where she belonged and those she belonged to and with. I realized as I looked at her that my anger was misplaced. My sadness and anger at what had been done to her wasn’t needed. She had gone through the crucible of her own nightmare and come out the other side stronger for it. She didn’t need me to break anyone’s arms and legs because that person had no hold on her any longer. The worms crawling through the muck meant nothing to the sun. Yukiko’s uncle and what he'd stolen meant even less to the shining star Yukiko had become.

“I’m ok, sweety,” Yukiko said to Mari, gripping her hand comfortingly. “I’m ok."

“You’re more than ok,” Mari smiled at her before turning to me. “I guess it’s my turn, now.”

“I get it,” I held my hands up to know they’d made their point. I wasn’t sure who’s idea this was, but suspected it was most likely Sachi’s. The leader of Kunoichi was many things, but subtle was not one of them. She approached life like everything was a barrier to force her way through. Delicate was not her style. “Being an idol and stuff is uplifting for girls who really need it. I get it.”

“I told you she’d see through this plan of yours, Sacchan,” Mari shrugged. “Our little Kasumi is oh so smart. I knew skating through basic college courses would pay off and make her a super genius.”

“Tch,” I sucked my teeth in disapproval. “Fucking rude, much?”

“I can be rude. I’m older. Now! Listen up oh ye member of the unwashed masses,” Mari leaned forward, her eyes locking with mine. “Yes, it can be a wonderful and uplifting thing. It can also be the most dangerous thing a young girl can do.”

“My sweetest love Yukiko had her innocence stolen from her. Far too common, unfortunately. I, however, bartered mine away,” Mari’s eyes never left mine.

“There are probably three hundred companies that peddle dreams of fame on the stage to young girls and boys. Of those probably 70 are broke but trying. 20 can make those dreams come true, and the rest are a mill to rip you up and spit you out.” Mari sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily.

“I always wanted to be on stage. I always wanted to be famous. Money meant nothing to me, my family had that, but I found quickly that money couldn’t buy fame. The only currency I had that could get me closer to that stage was my body,” Mari shrugged. It was not self-pity; it was simply a fact. “Managers didn’t care about my dreams, they cared whether I’d spread my legs. So, I did. Dozens? Maybe. I honestly don’t remember anymore. They made wild promises if I’d show a little skin. I’d be the center if I showed my boobs. I’d get a solo if I let them feel me up.

“Agency to agency it was always the same,” Mari shrugged again. “Even when I first came to Kunoichi it was because I let my previous manager fuck my ass. It was a transaction. I let him do what he wanted, he let me move onward and upward.” She took a deep, halting breath before continuing.

Honestly, I was shocked and horrified. The idea was revolting. The notion of selling my body to anyone or for anything repulsed me. Mari acted like it didn’t matter but I could see by the look in her eyes it did. She played it off as nothing more than doing what she had to do to get what she wanted but I knew that was just a self-defense mechanism. It hurt her. The memories she couldn’t shake, the past she couldn’t bury deep enough for it to not bob to the surface in moments of weakness.

“I was seventeen when I started my trip to the stage,” Mari’s gaze returned to me. “I was 20 when I debuted with Kunoichi. That should give you an idea of how I spent my late teens, Kasumi. That may give you an idea how this industry can chew you up. It doesn’t matter how pretty or talented you are. It doesn’t matter how hard you work. If you get in with the wrong agency you are a transaction. Nothing more. And these transactions are not always monetary. There are thousands of girls who start this journey and maybe a hundred that see the big stage. The rest go home broken, battered, and changed. Not all of them do what I did. But too many come up against that wall and turn away. Or are turned away. Or get turned into something they’re not.”

“These girls need a safe space, Kasumi,” Akari said softly as Mari and Yukiko comforted each other. “We can’t save all of them, but shouldn’t we save as many as we can? Shouldn’t we help their dreams where we can without preying on them?”