Chapter Twenty One: I’m Not a Bad Slime.
Trash awoke to the sound of crows.
He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was in an unfamiliar bed. In an unfamiliar place. His head hurt. A lot.
It only took a moment to reorient himself this time. He sat up slowly and blinked while taking in his surroundings.
He was in Denmark Street. Not the record store, but the house below the store. Hibiki’s house.
Trash looked around; beside the bed, on a small nightstand, was a glass, a bottle of water, and an unopened box of aspirin.
He greedily poured a glass of water and popped out a couple of pills from the sealed packet. These were not the same wonderful pills he had been given yesterday, but he assumed these were probably a better idea. His head hurt, but not nearly as much as the day before. His arm was feeling just a bit sore, though he could move it freely now. Stretching quickly, however, brought back a sharp pain in his shoulder.
He could remember most of the day before. His conversation with Hibiki, the Old Goat, was still vivid in his mind. He wondered why he had talked so much. He thought that he had been acting strange lately. As though being off-balance was breaking him out of the patterns he had worn himself into over the years, causing him to stumble into untested places.
He spotted a familiar-looking paper shopping bag with a popular cartoon character on it. He had received that bag at one of the comic market events. Pazu must have brought that bag from his apartment with clean clothes for him to change into. Checking inside the bag, he found a simple change of clothes, which he quickly switched into from the borrowed pajamas he had been wearing. Then he folded those and put them on the bed.
At the bottom of the bag were the remains of his treasured MS-09 Dom Jacket. Trash felt his heart ache as he pulled it out to see how bad the damage was.
His hopes were quickly dashed, as he could tell it was worse than he had imagined. The arm had not simply ripped at the seams, but the fabrics of both the jacket and the inner lining had both torn. It would not be simple to repair.
He was sure that Saki could do it, but he didn’t think he had the nerve to show it to her in this state. She had given the jacket to him shortly after he had introduced her to Pazu. Back when she was very sweet and friendly to him. She hadn’t started getting cold to him until after she and Pazu had been dating for a while.
He wondered if she was like that because she was warning him off. He couldn’t think of anything specific that he had done to change her attitude toward him. Trash recalled what Meg had mentioned, that everyone knew he had a crush on Saki. Maybe she was just making it clear she would never get involved in some weird love triangle between the two best friends.
If that was true, maybe it had worked. Trash had to admit that he had never felt any strong jealousy towards Pazu once she started berating him whenever she saw him.
No. For now, he didn’t think he would take this back to Saki. Maybe later.
Beside the shopping bag was a small paper-wrapped bundle. This turned out to be his other clothes. They had been cleaned, it seemed, then neatly folded and wrapped in paper. He put the bundle into the shopping bag with the jacket, and then walked out the door.
He found Hibiki upstairs in the sitting room.
「Ah! Perfect timing. Breakfast?」
Trash had intended to leave as quickly as possible, but the smell of cooking meat was irresistible. He weakly nodded guiltily, then sat down at the table opposite to the man.
Hibiki had already been eating, but almost immediately, Agbor emerged, carrying another plate, loaded up with food, along with a cup of coffee.
As far as Trash was concerned, this giant angel could do no wrong in the world. Not only had he likely saved Trash from death, but the food could not have been more welcome. He was starving, and it looked and smelled delicious.
On the plate was an unusual mix of foods, although they all looked amazing. There were two fried eggs, some bacon and sausages, sautéed mushrooms, and roasted tomatoes. There were also what appeared to be canned beans. Trash wasn’t sure what they were there for, but he was so hungry right now he would have eaten anything.
A moment later, Agbor was back again, placing a small plate with toast, as well as a cup with butter and a jar of an orange jam, beside his plate. Trash was so emotional he was ready to propose to the big man.
“I don’t eat like this every day, mind you. Eating a full English more than once a week wouldn’t be good, even if I had your metabolism. Still, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.”
Hibiki had switched back to English. He envied people like Hibiki and Meg, who could switch back and forth between languages effortlessly. Maybe with practice, he could do it too someday…
Hibiki seemed to sense Trash’s trepidation.
“I think, when eating English food, it always tastes more authentic if you speak English while eating. It’s just an old habit of mine. I hope you don’t mind.”
Trash shook his head. He would have answered in English if his mouth wasn’t full of eggs and sausage at that precise moment.
The food was delicious. Even the beans, which he mopped up with some toast, following Hibiki’s lead. He hadn’t eaten so much since the double steak lunch with Danny. That had only been a few days earlier, but it felt like months, or even longer.
After they had finished eating, Hibiki leaned forward, locking his gaze on Trash’s face. Trash, for his part, couldn’t help but avert his eyes.
「So, Trash, that was an interesting talk we had last night. Sorry, we had to cut it short, but it was a bit late for this old man. Perhaps we could continue this morning? I’m about to go out for my Sunday walk.」
Trying to mask his disappointment, Trash smiled weakly and nodded, rather unenthusiastically.
「Besides, Young Master Hiroyuki was planning to stop by around lunchtime today to pick you up.」
That was right. Pazu mentioned that he would come back today.
「This is my Sunday tradition. A Full English, followed by a nice leisurely walk to work off all those calories. We could continue our talk as we walk. Is that agreeable?」
Resigned to his fate, Trash nodded. The walk right now did seem like a good idea.
Trash had envisioned some quiet walk through the park. Hibiki, on the other hand, had a different idea of a leisurely walk.
Trash had heard stories of Harajuku on Sunday. It was well documented on TV shows and news programs. He could remember the images of crowds of teenagers shopping and gathering.
He was not at all prepared for the reality.
Hibiki had changed from his usual simple Western clothing to a traditional kimono. It made him look like a character from an old Showa-era movie. He also walked with a cane, although Trash hadn’t noticed him having any difficulty walking. It did give him a strong presence, however. His old-fashioned hairstyle and mustache, coupled with the traditional clothing, gave off a strong impression of a somebody, an important person walking down the street.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Perhaps due to that, They had no difficulty at all walking along Takeshita Street, despite it being packed with people. Their path always seemed to open in front of the old man as he slowly walked along.
It wasn’t even noon yet, but the street was already very crowded. There were tourists and shoppers galore, couples out on dates, and young girls everywhere. While the narrow street lacked the speakers and bright LED lights of Akihabara, it made up for it with gaudy signs and energetic salespeople, shouting out offers and promises. There were large African barkers, standing in front of some cheap jewelry shops. All of them wore black clothing and baseball caps, and were decked out in gold necklaces and rings. None of them were nearly as big and intimidating as Agbor, however.
There were girls with long blond hair, dark tanned skin, and colored contacts, attracting customers to lingerie boutiques or nail salons. Those were the types of girls who wouldn’t be caught dead in Akihabara.
And there were gangs of girls in high school uniforms at the crepe stands that seemed to be positioned every 20 meters.
Between the shops selling idol posters, t-shirts with strange designs on them, or small accessories, Trash was overwhelmed. He felt like Alice, fallen into Wonderland, and the strange old man walking beside him was a white rabbit.
Hibiki, on the other hand, could not have been more at ease. He walked slowly, looking at the shops carefully. Trash noticed that among the shop owners and regular workers, Many of them recognized the old man immediately. Many would stand up straight while giving him a subtle bow before going on with their work. A few even made a special effort to come out the street to formally greet the old man.
Usually, Hibiki would just smile, but sometimes he would make a comment about some new product he noticed in the front of a store, or inquire about the health of an employee who was absent.
As they walked. he would occasionally mention to Trash the history of a shop they were passing. He pointed out a crepe store that was larger than the typical stand or food truck.
「This was the first shop to sell crepes in Harajuku. That was back in the ’70s, not long after I opened up Denmark Street.」
「This was the original location of Denmark Street.」 He said, pointing to a small shop on the second floor of a building just off the main road.
「It was one of the first shops in Tokyo that specialized in modern Western records.」
Trash looked up. It appeared that the tiny shop now sold colored wigs of every length and hue.
「Do you know where the name Denmark Street comes from?」 Hibiki asked.
Trash shook his head.
「Denmark? The country?」 He guessed.
「Ha! No. But I understand young people no longer understand the reference. No. Denmark Street is a place in London. While the Americans will always claim they invented Rock and Roll, to me, Denmark Street is where the revolution truly began.」
「I went there as a young man, not much older than yourself. To find my fortune, you could say. Once, Denmark Street was also known as “Little Tokyo,” and I worked there for a while in a small import-export shop. That’s where I learned my English, my appreciation for British customs, and, of course, my obsession with Western music.」
「Denmark Street was also known as London’s Tin Pan Alley, the home of all the major music publishers. You could see all the big-name musicians there, and the cafes were full of both established names and up-and-comers. I used to peek in the windows of #9 La Gioconda hoping to see a glimpse of the Beatles or Bowie, while the cafes down the street were full of future stars, sipping espresso while waiting nervously for their appointment with a big-name record company.」
Trash chuckled at that, drawing a curious look from Hibiki.
「It’s just that… Well, what you said sounds a lot like Jimbocho.」
「Ahh. The bookstore district?」
Just across the tracks of the Chuo line from Akihabara, Trash would occasionally meet clients there as well.
「It’s where all the big magazine publishers are. The family restaurants are always full of comic book artists, meeting with editors, or cramming to finish their books before taking them into the offices. What you said just reminded me of that.」
「I see,」 Hibiki said thoughtfully. 「Yes, I suppose it was like that. It was an exhilarating place and time. That’s why, when I came back to Tokyo, I opened up a shop here, and I named it after that place.」
They kept walking and soon passed a large store with a flashy painted sign.
「Have you ever heard about the Bamboo-Tribe?」
Trash shrugged. He wasn’t sure if he had ever even heard the name before.
「Bah! I would expect at least our rivals to know where their own culture began. It was here! If it weren’t for these things, your Akihabara wouldn’t have any identity beyond comic books and wireless shops!」
Trash was taken aback. Hibiki appeared to be angry. He waved his hands at the shop in front of them. The sign read Takenoko, and from the entrance, it looked to be a costume shop. Mannequins were wearing sheer, reflective, and brightly colored dresses and elaborate hats. It was bizarre to Trash’s own sensibilities.
「Where do you think you got your cosplayers? Huh? Here! How about your famous Akihabara Maids? They came from here! Is this what this country has come to? Have people forgotten what those kids did here? Oh! It makes me so angry!」
Trash relaxed as he realized that the rant was mostly theatrical. Hibiki was trying to make a point.
「What are you talking about, Old Goat?」
「Ah! You geeks! No respect or even understanding. All you care about is your hugging pillows and pornography!」
That actually got a laugh out of Trash. Hibiki also realized the show was over and smiled.
「The Bamboo-Tribe. They started in the 70’s right here. Those brave young kids gathered here to express themselves through imported Western culture, but also to create their own identity, free of the baggage of the older generation that led this country through that disastrous war.」
They kept walking up the hill and out of Takeshita Street, towards the main exit to the train station.
「Those kids, inspired by rock and roll, gathered here. They didn’t know what to do, or even how to dress, so they just made things up. They copied bits of fashion from magazines and Hollywood movies, and invented the rest. Every Sunday, for one day only, each week, they poured out from this station and danced, and lived a life apart from what the adults and society told them to do.」
As they passed the station, Trash saw the groups of people gathering on the bridge to the Meiji Shrine. There were a few buskers and comedians, and also many small groups of girls dressed in gothic-Lolita style, as well as a fair amount of what appeared to be Visual-style band cosplayers, complete with guitars, kabuki-style make-up and long wigs of brightly colored hair. It almost felt like a cosplay event on the main street of Akiba.
「Harajuku was the birthplace of the Bamboo-Tribe, a sub-culture based on Western music, that embraced creativity, freedom, and an optimistic view of the future. Where would your Akihabara be without those ideals? Without dreams? Still doing nothing but selling radios and washing machines, I bet.」
They kept walking until they reached the entrance of Yoyogi Park. As soon as they entered, Trash was shocked by the groups of people lining the pathway into the park.
There were plenty of tourists, of course, and casual visitors, coming to enjoy the nature and scenery inside, but the entrance was mobbed by dozens of groups of people, costumed and arranged in circles.
There seemed to be different “types” gathered here. Still, there was a shared sense of organization as well.
The one theme that brought them all together was music. Each group had a large portable stereo, or speakers connected to a music player, or something that would allow them to blast out music.
The music was diverse, but most of the groups gravitated toward classic rock and roll. Some of the groups appeared to be dressed like 1950s American teenagers, with large skirts for the girls and large, greasy pompadour haircuts and leather jackets for the guys.
Another group wore the shiny, flowing outfits that Trash noticed at the costume shop on Takeshita Street. Trash realized that the people dressed like this were as old as his uncle, and the rockers appeared to be even older. He almost laughed, imagining his uncle dressed up like this.
Then someone noticed them.
Immediately, a ripple went through the groups. From some of the larger groups, a representative quickly came over to pay respects to the Old Goat. They would quickly run over, then formally bow, before returning to the dancing. They were not surprised to see him here, though they did not stop to talk to him. They just made sure to acknowledge his presence.
Other, smaller groups that appeared to be made up of younger members just watched, though even some of them would bow slightly to Hibiki as they walked through the dancing that filled the street.
Finally, Hibiki led him back, out of the park and up to the entrance of Meiji Shrine once again.
「Things have changed much over the years. There used to be so many more, but they got old, grew up, and got responsibilities. There was always change, of course. Disco had its day, Visual-Style continues to dominate, though the breakup of X was a dark time here. I think things haven’t been the same since then.」 Hibiki looked sad as he stared across the bridge back to the station.
「This bridge used to be closed each Sunday. This was a space just for the young. To play and to dream. No police or chaperones. Just others who shared in their hobbies and aspirations. But times change. Now they keep the bridge open to traffic, and patrol to watch out for trouble.」
Trash thought about the flowers on the handmade shrine. They used to close off the main street in Akihabara. Until the massacre. They said they would open it up again, but he knew it would never be the same.
「I don’t usually do this, but should we visit the shrine? I am enjoying our talk, and I’d like to share a bit more. Do you have some time?」
The things that Hibiki had shared with him so far, had honestly been surprisingly interesting. While he had little interest in the fashion and the trendmaking of Shibuya, he was, to put it bluntly, shocked by the depth of the culture here, and the similarities to the geek sub-culture of Akiba.
They were rivals, but perhaps they were also comrades indeed.
Trash nodded, and they proceeded to enter the giant wooden gate at the entrance to the shrine, leaving the noise and the music of the street behind.