Guardians

far.

Chapter 1

With a blinding flash, the world burst into nothingness as the ever-present cacophony of life went mute. The only sound he could process was the harsh gasp of his own breath, echoing over-loudly in ears momentarily deafened to the outside and amplified within. Then time resumed; the brightness scattered into a rainbow of myriad color that resolved into a shadowed sea of upturned faces. With the return of vision came a clash of sound—drums pounding a heart-beat rhythm, guitar gearing up for a feverish opening riff, and the low hum of bass in an unusual counter-rhythm that intertwined all of the musical elements, tying in even the vocal melody which would begin imminently.

Though the intro had seemed to pass in a slow-motion state, Kai slammed into a whirlpool of frantic energy the moment his diaphragm clamped down on the first word of the lyrics. He kept a conscious eye on the crowd even as he steeped himself in the emotion of the dramatic story, becoming at times the angel and at times the demon. At others, he was one of the masses staring upon Guardian with the expectation of being transported beyond mundane life. Sometimes he seemed to float outside of himself, becoming nothing but a singular note on the wind in a storm of music—only to snap back to reality with an almost physical force as he once more focused on the performance.

As he sang, Kai felt the lighting hot on his face, sweat prickling his skin. The instrumental began and he stomped his foot, planting it hard as his hips swayed with the force, carrying the beat of the insidious bass. The motif repeated with an addictive pull and his body moved as if of its own volition.

Inspired by a modern string quartet featuring some extreme cello and double bass, the bass line was one of Kai’s favorites. Reika was the one to incorporate and adapt the syncopated rhythm and unexpected scale. It was his bass work which made "El Diablo Angelica" such a gripping opening number.

Later, Kai would remember only isolated moments from the performance; a view of the fans jumping like their lives depended on it, or a brief crash and tangle with Naoki and the lead that momentarily escaped the guitarist’s instrument by having caught on Kai’s foot—the rest was a blur. It wasn’t that he hadn’t paid attention, only that he experienced the time onstage with more senses than he could cram into the narrow confines of the human memory. He remembered the best and the worst, and occasionally the oddly vivid triviality.

It was sensation that lingered even after memory faded. Long after Guardian returned to their dressing room and Kai sank bonelessly into the scuffed and faded leather couch, the exhilaration of the moment stayed with him. He grinned dopily as he caught a glimpse of a photo being reviewed for social media. Expertly captured, the golden sheen of the lights bounced off his coal black hair and intensified the red patch by his left ear to glowing embers, giving him a fierce aura. It was a moment eternalized. In the group shot, the band looked just as radiant: gold tendrils glinted through Reika’s lilac hair which screened his face as he swung low with his bass; proof of effort sparkled on Kirin’s brow as he brought a stick smashing down on the high-hat; and Naoki’s falls of midnight hair artfully screened a face pale and silvered, as if by moonlight. Kai was quick to give his approval of both shots.

Exhilaration lasted through the removal of make-up, through the pack-up and roll-out, through a rushed flurry of celebratory drinks, a taxi ride home, and a quick shower, and persisted as the night wore on. Despite the physical exhaustion that only a successful concert could instill, he lay awake deep into the night, basking in the half-remembered moments and overwhelming atmosphere of Guardian’s first oneman show.

~*~

Reika’s fingers caressed the strings so swiftly and elegantly it seemed as though the music was an incidental bonus. He had the poise of a harpist at most times but then there was that hint of attitude when he bent into a slap solo that-

Kai winked at me! Did you see it?

Sighing, Mei set aside her cola and took a small bite of the cake she and the girls were sharing in celebration of Guardian’s successful first solo concert.

What makes you think it was at you?

The twins were almost unbearable in their obsession with Kai and constantly argued over which of them he was more enamored with.

He was looking right at me!

It could have been either of us.

Really, they were insufferable sometimes. Mei hated to point out the obvious but sometimes it was the only way to console herself. Or he was winking at the people behind you, or next to you, or no one in particular, for that matter.

Maybe it was both of us, but it definitely was us! Hidemi’s eyes narrowed as she spoke and Hideko mirrored her sister’s indignant pose. At least Kai knows we exist. Reika doesn’t even look at you.

Reika doesn’t look at anyone. He doesn’t need to buy my affection, Mei retorted with a roll of her eyes. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered hanging out after shows like this. When it came down to it, the only thing she had in common with most of these girls was that they had all been present at Guardian’s first live performance ever.

Mei, Hidemi, and Hideko, were three of seven girls who had followed Guardian religiously since that first twenty-minute appearance at a hole-in-the-wall club in Shinjuku. Most of them had been attracted by the tiny but pretty faces printed in a corner of the flyer advertising that show. Mei, her old friend Emmi, and the youngest of the group, Naomi, had been there to watch other artists and had been subsequently captivated by Guardian’s performance. As they all continued to follow the band, they had naturally formed a clique that persisted even as new fans emerged. It was the only group Mei had ever really felt a part of—she just wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Well, that’s true. Reika could just stand there like a perfect statue for all I care and I’d still love him, boasted Kaori. Though a fellow Reika fan, Mei felt the least kinship with the skinny, long-haired socialite who probably couldn’t appreciate good music any less if she were deaf.

"Could you be more shallow?" The insult came from Yuka, whose resemblance to Kaori could almost add a second pair of twins to the group but for her honey-colored hair and slightly less frail figure. Yuka was decidedly a fan of Guardian’s drummer, Kirin, and regularly boasted of the unique edge his unconventional beats brought to the band.

Kaori huffed. It’s not shallow to be attracted to beautiful things. Tell me he’s not the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and I’ll shut up, she challenged.

Before Yuka could respond, Mei decided she couldn’t listen to the pointless conversation any longer without reminding them of the real issue. Of course he is, she agreed. He’s also a musical genius. That’s what really makes him stand out.

He’s a bassist, Naomi pointed out. Though her love of Guardian was indisputable, Naomi was one of those fans who could barely see past the vocalist looming over her regular front and center position, and if she had to acknowledge any further contribution to the band of her own volition, it was usually in regards to the secondary melody-maker, the guitar.

Mei didn’t bother addressing her response to Naomi, lecturing the other girls instead, with special attention to Kaori. An amazing bassist—and composer—and you all heard him sing at that special event last month. He’s got such a rich, gorgeous voice... Mei could tell she was losing the girls with her looming diatribe of Reika’s merits but she just wanted them to understand, to see in him what she saw in him. Surely they would agree with her! Reika was so talented in so many ways. If he were to start a solo career...

Disheartened by the bored looks on faces that said they were now listening to her rant-in-the-making out of a sense of polite duty, she finished up with one last, weak effort. He could take on any part he wanted to.

Well, obviously, he wants to be a bassist, and that’s fine with me, Hideko replied as she sunk her fork into the dwindling strawberry short cake. "Kai is Guardian’s vocalist and I wouldn’t have it any other way."

That was the cue for Emmi to speak up in favor of her own most beloved member. Same; with Naoki on guitar. I mean, could anyone else bring those melodic solos alive?

Not to sound too cliché here, but let’s not forget Kirin, Yuka reminded them all.

How could we forget the best drummer on the planet? Hidemi agreed with a wink and a tinkle of laughter that had the girls united once more.

Those tribal drums, Hideko hummed.

Those stormy cymbals! Yuka enthused.

Those killer biceps—I mean, swing beats, added Kaori.

You were right the first time, Yuka returned with a wide, conspiratorial grin.

Were they all so oblivious as to what made Guardian truly great? How could they not see it? How could they be so focused on the surface elements that they couldn’t recognize the true genius behind the music? Reika’s skill was wasted on such blindness.

Mei, it’s not that we don’t appreciate Reika’s talents so don’t scowl like that. It was Naomi who cut into the flippant giggles in response to Mei’s gradually souring expression.

"I can’t imagine Guardian without Reika, either," promised Emmi.

Mei didn’t respond, instead choosing to keep her peace. She did, however, offer the girls a conciliatory nod and accepted the last piece of shortcake that was offered up to her by Hidemi. Sometimes they seemed terribly shallow but perhaps that was just a front, put on for the sake of being accepted into the hive-mind. One way or another, these girls had all stuck by Guardian from the very beginning and were the closest thing Mei had to best friends.

Later, as she crammed into the crowded subway train after parting with Emmi and Yuka at the transfer, Mei reached into her skirt pocket, her fingers closing on the treasure hidden there. The pad of her thumb traced the frayed edge and her index finger skimmed the roughened face of the pick. It had been used well before Reika had discarded it. Mei harbored no illusions that this keepsake had been intentionally lobbed her way—Reika hadn’t even looked up as a careless flick of the wrist sent the pick sailing past several rows to be caught in Mei’s grasping hands. Yet Mei knew it was meant for her; a special prize from fate to reward her devotion to a man destined for greatness.

As the crushing mass jostled and shifted with each motion of the train, Mei braced her left arm for balance against another passenger while she kept the pick gripped protectively in her clenched right fist—tucked firmly inside her pocket. She wouldn’t risk losing such a treasure. She had the perfect little box for it at home, and there it would stay, as memory and inspiration.

~*~

Naoki sighed in contentment after savoring the sensation of smooth, rich beer, warming him in its passage. This was the moment he had most looked forward to. Now that the tension of preparation and performance was over, he could relax and really enjoy a good drink. He didn’t even mind that his band members were long gone.

After the show, Guardian and their hired roadies had hurriedly gotten their gear packed away into the van and joined their manager, Sasaki, for a round of beer and bar snacks with the venue staff. They were all tired from the long road leading up to their shining moment in the limelight, and most of Guardian weren’t big drinkers anyway, so the celebration was brief but gratifying.

"Here’s to a successful start to Guardian’s oneman history," Naoki had toasted, beginning a string of comments both joking and sincere.

Here’s to all the pretty new faces we scored tonight, added Kirin.

Here’s to our star-dusted future, Reika said with an overly straight expression.

What the heck does that even mean? Kirin’s jostling hip-bump had set Reika’s mug sloshing and almost endangered Naoki’s sandal-clad feet.

It means we’re gonna have it all, Kai promised. "Here’s to all of you—and to me—because Guardian is more than just music; it’s the perfect balance of personalities and talents."

Yeah, yeah. Will someone say cheers so we can drink already? Sasaki had suggested with false scorn. Without her believing in them and pushing them to work harder and think larger, Guardian would still be playing minor events in out-of-the way venues. She could say whatever she wanted at that particular moment. Here’s to four talented men, with big hearts and a bright future, she said, sincerely now, with a small smile that alighted upon each of them in turn.

Cheers, Naoki had agreed, downing his first mug for the night.

Now he was on his fifth but he’d been smart enough to drag the roadies to a bar within walking distance of his own place, so he had no worries except for the cold weather on the walk home—and the best answer to that was more beer!

Unfortunately, his drinking buddies weren’t in for the long haul and after one more round, Naoki found himself traversing the lamp-lit streets with his jacket slung over his shoulder, wondering at his tenacity against the windy winter night. He moved slowly, glancing up past the streetlights to the handful of distant stars visible from the city. It was a rare moment of peace.

His short bangs were pulled back from his face by a headband but he brushed phantom locks away from his eyes by habit as he gazed up at the stars, remembering; not the concert from a few hours ago, but the one that had started it all. Kai had forgotten lyrics left, right, and center, ruining Naoki’s best poetic moments. Kirin had paid too much attention to Reika as his rhythmic partner and forgotten to set a comfortable pace for the