Oto's Claim to Fame

Hayami rested in bed, looking up at her raised hand. Slipped over her ring finger, the massive diamond caught the morning sunlight and sent a dazzling array of sparks dancing across the room. Just the sight of it caused her heart to race, remembering the moment she opened the treasure trove of glittering stones.

Pulling the hand back down to her chest, she rolled onto her side and sighed. She swiped at one of the dozen pillows on her bed, tucking it against her chest. The thought of Oto telling her she could wear the ring on any finger filled her mind as a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

“Idiot.” She whispered into the soft pillow. “You don’t understand girls.”

The reality was that even though Hayami had never expected to marry or even saw herself as girly, something about Oto brought out those desires in her. He was the only guy who had never second-guessed her strength and capabilities as a woman, while equally finding joy in showering her with things that a stereotypical girl would like.

She loved it.

“Idiot, stop being so…gah!”

And hated it.

Punching at the pillow, Hayami sat up and looked at the ring a final time. She slid it from her finger, putting it back in the box of jewelry before snapping it shut. Suddenly determined to give Oto a piece of her mind for being so naïve, she jumped from the sheets and slid the thin case beneath the mattress for safekeeping before flying from her room.

Just as fast as Christmas had appeared, it disappeared. It had been three days since the midsummer festive frivolities, and the seaside villa had returned to its original classy, nautical theme. And while the smell of pine and cinnamon still hung in the air as she marched her way to Oto’s room, it had grown faint as she inhaled, fighting to hold onto it like a wonderful memory that slowly slipped from her mind.

Reaching his room, Hayami gently knocked at Oto’s door as she pushed it open.

“Hey, dummy, you in here?” She called out to the silent space.

She had been in the boy’s room before, and every time she had, it was like stepping into another world. The space resembled a luxury penthouse apartment with the two-story space incorporating floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed in the beautiful ocean view and bright natural light. Today, she had entered from the second level of the space, arriving at his private mezzanine that functioned as an office space and entrance to the luxurious bathroom that made the one in Hayami’s guest quarters seem small.

“Hey, Oto, you here?” She continued to announce herself, stepping up to the glass railing of the open office and looking over the first floor.

This space was, as always, spotlessly clean with ruby-red sheets tucked tightly into the massive bed that sat atop dark wood floors. Crème-coloured furniture filled the rest of the space, giving ample seating for guests that Hayami now believed had never bothered to grace with their bodies. Above it all, a waterfall chandelier hung, currently off, but the girl knew it to be nearly as beautiful as her ring when alight.

“Ot—oh?” Hayami began again, turning to see something new.

Oto’s office desk was a mess, covered with paper, pencils, charcoal and a variety of rulers of assorted sizes and shapes. Running a hand over the chaos, she picked up a scratched-out drawing of a woman who looked surprisingly like her. Not in facial features, but in physique, and placed over it was a flowing outfit. There were lines to distinct parts of the clothing, with scribbled notes about functionality.

Then Hayami noticed another, hidden beneath the mess, of a beautifully drawn sketch of a kimono. It was the one she was currently wearing, her favourite of all the bedwear, and it was just as covered with notes about patterns and skin tones.

“Did—did he…”

She began to sift through the entirety of the desk. Every dress she had gotten over her stay, every undergarment, paired with shoes, jewelry, and hats—Oto had designs for them. And then she saw it. A not-yet-finished drawing that incorporated diamond-studded cobalt fabric with golden stars and a series of notes.

Leg slit for mobility. Hidden pockets for additional bullet thingies. Baton and gun garter? Carbon-fibre liner for stab and cut resistance? Maybe bulletproof?

The bathroom door across the mezzanine opened as a towel-covered Oto stepped out from the steam. He froze, staring across the way at Hayami as she looked through his private designs, noticing her holding his most recent creation.

“No!” He cried out. “Don’t look at that, it’s not ready yet!”

“Oto,” She spoke softly. “Did you design all my clothes?”

Hayami turned to face him, noticing his damp, barely covered body. She took him in with an intense stare, admiring his physique with a new appreciation and longing.

“Eeep!” She squeaked, pulling the papers before her face to shield her eyes from his body and conceal her blushing cheeks. “Wh-why don’t you have clothes on?!”

“Who showers with clothes on?” He shot back, approaching and pulling the papers from her grasp. “And of course I designed all your clothing! What? Did you think I would have you waltzing around in fabrics that were off-the-rack?”

“B-But how?”

Hayami kept her gaze focused on the bathroom door, trying to keep herself from ogling Oto’s naked body as he shuffled through his drawing.

“I—I, well.” He sighed and turned to face her. “Hayami, I have something to tell you. I am Neem Soo Doe, fashion designer extraordinaire!”

“Neem Soo—wait?” Hayami processed, turning around to face Oto again.

She investigated his face, eying the confidence he wore in his statement and the lack of deception. And while she was not the most fashionable person in the world, even she knew about the mysterious Neem. A woman rarely seen in public who, when walking the streets, wore clothes that were equal parts beautiful and concealing, to fully cover any part of her body that could give away her identity. She was an icon that even Hayami admired, because after five years in the spotlight, the fashion designer's own employees still knew nothing of her identity.

“You’re Neem Soo Doe?!” Hayami cried out. “Wait! Soo Doe Neem? Pseudonym? OH, my God, Oto!”

“Hayami, please, you must keep this a secret. No one must know my identity.”

“Are you freaking kidding me right now? You? You want me to keep your identity secret?”

Hayami shook her head, thinking of the hypocrisy of his statement after he had completely upended her reality with his fame. She slowly processed this sudden realization as Oto began to explain his story to her.

That, over the lonely years in his room with no one around him, he began to draw and discovered a passion for fashion. The way time moved on, and his creations came to life through the hired sewists and tailors who indulged his fantasy. And how seven years ago he began releasing that clothing to the world, but, being a child, was unable to run the business. So, he birthed the persona of Neem Soo Doe and had his brand manager assist him in running the company until he came of age.

“So, wait, you’re not famous because of your clothes? That’s been a secret this whole time?”

“Well, of course? I just used my rise to internet fame to push my secret brand. That's why I'm always the first to wear Neem Soo Doe's latest trends.”

Oto looked to Hayami with a confused glance.

“Wait, do you not know why I’m actually famous, Hayami?”

“I—erm, no?” Hayami had never thought about the question, simply assuming he was a pretty boy surviving off his looks alone.

With that, Oto sat at his desk and opened the laptop hidden under the designs. Clacking away at the keys, he pulled up a ViewTube page and typed in ‘Goose boy attack viral.’

“Go on, do it, Oto. Do it!” The video started with the child behind the camera egging a boy on.

Beyond long, a young, finely dressed Oto came into view. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old, his chubby cheeks flush with anxiety as he looked nervous at the camera.

“But I don’t want to make the mad.” Young Oto replied.

“Do it, geese love people. Do it, Oto.”

“Do it! Do it!” Other children chimed in.

The young boy, with another hesitant huff, adjusted his clothing before approaching the pond's edge. There, at the edge, a gaggle of geese protected their goslings and, as Oto approached, they lowered themselves and hissed. But, continuing to be egged on by the other children, he moved forward until, finally, the animals attacked.

“Ahhh!” Oto cried out as the entire gaggle turned on him.

Hayami watched, suddenly remembering when the video went viral the first time. She had seen it and found it just as funny as everyone else, though the one that the world had initially seen had been edited to remove the voices of the mischievous children egging the boy on. Instead, it was just a video of the aftermath of a dumb child trying to pet geese before being assaulted and pushed into the water. It had trended for weeks before the reality became clear that the boy had been bullied, and suddenly it vanished from the internet.

“Wait, you’re the Goose Attack Boy?”

“Yes,” He replied softly, keeping his eyes away from Hayami. “That was indeed my humble beginning.”

Hayami stared at him from the side, admiring his grown beauty in comparison to the awkward child in the video.

“Damn, you had a glow-up. No wonder the internet still flocks to you—oh shit, poor phrasing.”

“And you see, after my mo—”

A gentle knock interrupted him as the door beside them opened and Giles stepped in.

“Young Master,” He spoke formally with a gentle bow. “It is that time.”

“Oh, really?” Oto replied, his already meek expression weakening further. “Very well, I shall be out in a few minutes.”

Hayami, noticing this unusual shift in the boy’s mood, directed her attention from the butler to Oto.

“Oto?” She inquired gently. “What time? What’s going on?”

Oto stood from his desk and looked to her with a forced smile.

“Hayami. Could I ask you to join me today?”

“For?”

“I’m going to visit ma-ma.”