The Journey
Kenji Satomo never bothered explaining to his teachers why he skipped classes. He had a feeling they already knew, anyway. Today, Kenji was using a cheap speaker as a pocket amplifier, paired up with a practice plug. Belligerent-sounding chords and riffs filled the air at the edge of campus, near the gym. Kenji always came here to get away from it all, when school and life proved to be too much for him. As much as he liked to put out a tough guy persona, he was quite a fragile person, on the inside. All it took today to push him to rampant escapism was his homeroom teacher telling him that he would never amount to anything. So, he played on.
Before long, Kenji’s playing wasn’t the only sound in the air. Second period had let out into the day’s first lunch period, and the entire school bustled with students shuffling to and fro, chatting, eating, and otherwise going about their daily lives. Among the din, however, Kenji picked up the sound of drums. “Strange…”, he said quietly to himself, muting his guitar with a palm between the pickups, “This school doesn’t have a band.” He followed the sound into the gym, where he found a young man about his own age simply sitting at a set of drums and playing his heart out. A full drumset wasn’t something a typical person could easily lug around, so the sight struck him a bit at first. After watching for a minute or two, Kenji came out of the shadows, cranked up his amp, and played along to the other boy’s rhythm. He didn’t startle as Kenji walked toward him, he simply kept on playing, adapting his drumming to Kenji’s playing. Without speaking a word, the two made eye contact and simply jammed. They were in perfect sync, and it was utter ecstasy. To Kenji, it was a better high than cocaine could have ever provided. The bell rang to usher students back to their homerooms for the third class, but the two continued to play. Even as the gym filled with students playing dodgeball and the coach berated them for skipping class, they moved aside and continued playing, enamored by each other’s music.
After another entire class period of improvisational playing, the two stopped, both breathing heavily, and smiled at one another. It was the first time Kenji had worn a sincere smile in quite some time. “You…”, he panted to the mysterious drummer, “Your name…” The drummer set his sticks down and wiped his brow. “Ikutsuki Yuji.”, he sighed. “You’re one hell of a guitarist, kid. What’s your name?” Kenji slung his guitar behind his back and turned off his pocket amp. “The name is Satomo Kenji. I… I’m genuinely glad we met, you know. Anyway, have a good day.” Blushing slightly, not used to connecting so deeply with another person, Kenji began to head for the door. “Wait!”, Yuji cried, packing his drums together into a shell-like monstrosity with metal rivets and slinging it over his back, “We should play together again some time, Kenji.” Kenji nodded, reached into his small backpack, and produced a scrap of paper and a pen. The paper was torn in two and the boys exchanged homerooms and home phone numbers before heading back to class, both quite tardy to the third class of the day.
Kenji sat obediently through the day’s remaining classes, putting forth his best effort for once. Playing music with another student had somehow brought out the best in Kenji. When he got home that day, with far less cocaine in his system than his usual dose, he greeted his father cordially. “Good afternoon, dad.”, Kenji said with a smile as he left his shoes at the door. “What’s up your ass?”, he answered. “To be honest, I found a bandmate.” His father sighed. “You know what? I don’t even give a shit anymore. You’ve failed me. Get out.” Kenji’s mood instantly flipped on its head. “YOU know fucking what?”, he shouted as he stomped toward his father and received a punch in the gut for his troubles, “I’m sick and tired of being held up to your standards!” He was interrupted by a slap to the face, but continued. “I’m tired of the constant abuse! I’m tired of my dreams and desires being regarded as a cop-out! I disown you!” His father was speechless. He walked over to an easy chair and sat down. “One hour.” Kenji opened the door to his bedroom. “I’ll be gone in fifteen minutes, and you can forget ever seeing me again.” The door slammed. Fifteen minutes later, Kenji, his guitar, and a backpack left the house without a word. Kenji’s father put his face in his hands and wept.
Kenji and his fake ID found their way to his favorite bar. “Kenji, what’s up?”, the bouncer said with a smile, “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” Kenji sighed. “Not drinking today, actually.” He met the bouncer’s eyes. “I need to talk to Hideki.” The bouncer nodded and walked inside, gesturing for Kenji to follow. Pulsating lights and throngs of dancing bodies packed the place with activity. Kenji couldn’t help but cringe at the mindless dance music blasting far too loudly from the speakers. A girl dancing alone, dyed blond hair waving about, bumped Kenji hard and nearly bowled him over. “Ohhh…”, she slurred, “I’m sorry, sexy! Can I make it up to you with a kiss?” Kenji simply laughed and walked away. Her smeared mascara and messy hair told him that she was probably fresh off of a breakup, and her excessive intoxication told him she would probably be trouble. When he walked away, the girl sank to her knees and cried, watching him leave. “Cuckoo, cuckoo…”, Kenji muttered to himself. “That’s Sakura.”, the bouncer told him, “She does this shit every couple of months. Horrible luck with men, I guess.” Kenji shook his head. “Stuff like that is why I go straight to the bar and stay there whenever I walk in.” The pair made their way to the back of the house, and into a spacious, windowed office. In the center of the room, there was no desk, no heavy desktop computer, no stack of folders and files; just a heavyset man with long, greasy black hair, reclined in a bean bag chair. The fans on the gaming laptop weighing down his lap roared just a bit less loudly than the moans of the anonymous porn star that currently had Hideki’s attention. The bouncer cleared his throat. Hideki didn’t look up. The computer’s speakers suddenly cut out. “Talk.”, Hideki said in his quick, curt manner.
Kenji stepped forward. “I need a favor.” Hideki closed the lid of the laptop and stood up. “Name it, friend.” Kenji inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, then bowed. “I need a job and a place to stay!” Hideki guffawed, and his belly shook behind his immaculate white suit. “I knew your dad would eventually kick you out!” He grabbed Kenji’s chin and pulled him up to look at him face to face. “I got your back, kid. I know you can play and sing, and the music here is trash. How would you like to be our full-time live band?” Kenji’s eyes lit up. “Y-you mean it?!” Hideki nodded. “Think about it. Free place to stay, and you’ll be able to make some scratch doing what you love. I’ll house you and feed you, so any extra money can go to getting on your feet proper.” Kenji threw his arms around Hideki. “Man, you have no idea what this means to me! Thank you so much!” Hideki laughed and pushed Kenji away gently. “No biggie. There’s a spare room here, and you’re practically family. It’s a no brainer. Now, lemme ask you a favor.” Kenji perked up. “I’m all ears. Anything.” Hideki tapped a finger on the neck of Kenji’s guitar. “Get on stage right now and show these trend-hopping teenyboppers what real music sounds like. Play ‘em some of the classics, sing some enka, even play some American rock, anything but this terrible fake music that’s clogging up the request list.” A fire burned behind Kenji’s eyes. “Dude, I am so there.” Kenji knew the way to the stage, and swaggered up with every bit of confidence he could muster. He drilled his brain for what to play as the music went silent and everybody looked up at him. He plugged his guitar into the stage speakers, thought for a second, and laid down an acoustic rendition of Champloose’s Haisai Ojisan.
As he started to play, the crowd gave him puzzled looks. Some walked out the door. Others went to the bar. A few stood at the foot of the stage and stared up at him, boring into his eyes as he scanned the crowd. As the song went on, the crowd started to grow. The song ended, and he followed up with X Japan’s Orgasm. The bold song choice earned him a mix of cheers and jeers, but by the end of the song, the crowd was collectively bobbing their heads, and some were singing along. A smile played across Kenji’s lips. ‘This is going to be the best gig ever.’, Kenji thought to himself.
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