Chapter 2

Disguises: The lifeblood of any celebrity, micro or otherwise, who strives not to get swarmed in public by rabid fans and paparazzi alike. Some people are simple about it and will just put on a pair of glasses and a face mask. Others go the whole nine yards and try to become a completely different person in their free time to throw off their followers. Junichiro was somewhere towards the latter of those two types of people.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror as he fidgeted with a pair of color contacts, the chill of the tile floor seeping through his socks. At last, he slotted them into place, blinking back tears at the momentary discomfort as they settled into place over his corneas. As Junichiro stared into the mirror, he saw a face not his own looking back at him. It was something he was still struggling to get used to, even as many times as he had changed faces already since he’d first gotten the idea a few months prior.

The person looking at him from the mirror watched him with vibrant green eyes that shimmered like freshly cut emeralds in the harsh bathroom lighting—quite the difference from their usual milk chocolatey hue. Junichiro rustled his newly whitened hair to a satisfactory level of messiness, its new color thanks to a temporary hair dye called HueShift, whose company he was partnered with for publicity. It was a very peculiar formula, their dye. Simply applying it to wet hair allowed it to soak in and coat each fiber, and removing it was as simple as washing one’s hair, effectively allowing people to change their hair color whenever they desired. If there was any detriment to the stuff—besides its price—Junichiro had yet to find it.

Between his contacts and his hair dye, Junichiro looked completely alien to his own eyes. Pleased with his transformation, he pushed a pair of sleek-looking glasses onto his face to complete the look and walked out of the bathroom, flicking off the lights as he left. His job allowed him to live higher than many people, but utilities could still sneak up on him if he wasn’t careful. Besides, wasted electricity didn’t do any good for anyone.

Junichiro meandered out into his living room after getting dressed in some of his finest ‘hole-in-the-wall visiting’ attire. He wore a navy long sleeved button-up, a pair of khaki pants, and a pair of brown loafers. It wasn’t a fancy outfit by any stretch of the imagination, but it was comfortable and would look right at home at the place Renji wanted to go. He strode over to the mirror beside his door and struck a photoshoot-worthy pose. His alter-ego had taken shape rather beautifully: Naoya Yukimura. A bit on the nose maybe, but only to someone who knew of his secret, of which there were only two: himself and Renji. Pleased with himself, he shot the mirror a charming wink, turned the doorknob, and stepped out into the lukewarm August evening.

About a half hour later, Junichiro stood in front of an unassuming red brick building tucked between a drugstore and a ramen shop. So unassuming in fact, that he had nearly walked straight past it. He glanced down at his phone to check the address that Renji had sent him to make sure he was in the right place. Sure enough, the name that met his eyes was the same one that bathed him in the crimson light of electrified neon from above the doorway: Yakazai. It was a bit of an odd, uninventive name for a bar, but between that fact and the subtleties of the location, it was memorable enough to Junichiro that he wouldn’t soon forget it.

The entry bell clattered as he stepped into Yakazai and took in the scenery. Immediately, his senses were embraced by all the hallmarks of a hidden gem establishment. Smells both sweet and savory that granted his taste buds a glimpse into their delicious future. The sound of decades old music from simpler times long past. The sights of the sparse, yet meaningful decorations that dotted the bar’s interior. And above all, the feelings of homeyness and familiarity that a small business like this sought to evoke from its customers. No matter what his intentions were, thought Junichiro, Renji chose well.

An older woman with salt-and-pepper streaked hair tied back into a bun—the proprietress of this fine establishment, Junichiro assumed—smiled at him from behind the granite-topped bar counter.

“Welcome to Yakazai!” she called out, “Have a seat wherever you like and one of our servers will be with you shortly.”

After a cursory glance around the room, Junichiro spied Renji in a booth near the back, waving excitedly even as his blazing orange hair and floral button-up acted as beacons to his location. Junichiro quickly plodded over and took a seat on the padded leather across from his best friend.

“What’s up Ju- I mean Naoya? Glad you showed up.” Renji said with a nervous laugh as Junichiro took his seat, barely catching his mistake before it was too late.

Junichiro sighed as he sat, glaring daggers at Renji with eyes that didn’t belong to him. “Dude, you’ve gotta be more careful. This is only my entire private life that’s at risk here. If word gets out there’ll be no end of tabloids and paparazzi.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Renji replied more quietly, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s hard enough recognizing you when you look like that, let alone remembering to call you something completely different. I’ll do better, I promise.”

They let silence sit between them for a short while and allowed themselves to indulge in the atmosphere. The friendly banter of two tipsy salarymen at the bar counter. The giggling of a group of college girls sat in a corner booth. The clinking, bell-like tones of glass on glass as the proprietress poured drinks. And of course, the ever present melodies of the classic hits playing over the establishment’s speakers.

“Well, enough of all that.” Renji began, his characteristic smile returning to his face, “We’re not here to brood and mope, we’re here to celebrate another successful wrap and help you forget about your troubles with the ‘Ice Queen’. Let’s move on to the more important topics: girls and drinks. There’s a waitress here that I’ve had my eye on for a whi-”

A hand holding a notepad materialized from outside Junichiro’s field of vision and slapped Renji on the top of his head. They both turned to see the proprietress standing over them, pen and notepad in hand.

“Amano-san, it would be in the best interest of all parties involved if you did not make passes at my waitresses.” She scolded rather sternly, “Now, are you two going to order anything or are you just going to sit here taking up space?”

The proprietress’s words were harsh, but Junichiro couldn’t exactly blame her. Of all of his glaring flaws, perhaps Renji’s worst one was that he was a rabid womanizer. He was largely unsuccessful in romance, but it didn’t change the fact that he tended to throw himself headfirst at nearly every cute girl he met. Junichiro reckoned that if someone were to come along and invent a way to convert libido into electricity, Renji would be able to power the entirety of Tokyo by himself, at the very least. Regardless of his issues, Renji was a great manager and an even better friend, sticking with him through thick and thin, so Junichiro wasn’t about to kick him to the metaphorical curb and lose him, even if he had trouble thinking with anything other than his crotch.

“Oh, Granny Shion, didn’t see you there.” Renji laughed nervously, trying to feign some semblance of innocence. “I’ll have some sake. Oh! And let’s get a plate of takoyaki for me and my buddy here.”

She rolled her eyes, accentuating a few of the soft wrinkles around them. “And you, handsome?”

Junichiro blinked. It took him a moment to realize that she was talking to him. “Oh, uh. I’ll just have a beer and a glass of water. I’m trying to pace myself a bit.”

The warm smile she wore when he entered returned to her face as she clicked her pen and turned on her heel. “Sounds good gentlemen. It’ll be out in just a few.”

The two friends talked and laughed together for a while as they waited patiently for their drinks and food. This is nice, Junichiro thought. It had been some time since he and Renji had been properly able to hang out, due to the business of their schedules. This was a much needed respite from the perpetual chaos of their lives.

As they spoke, Junichiro heard the unmistakable clatter of the entry door’s bell as someone entered. His side of the booth they were in faced away from the front of the bar, so he couldn’t immediately see whoever it was. Nor was he particularly interested, at least until Renji’s mouth dropped open like he was imitating a gulper eel.

“Dude… Total baddie alert.” Renji breathed, fumbling with his sunglasses as he took them off to get a better look.

Junichiro twisted his head around to take a look at whatever had made his friend’s brain suddenly shut off. Though, when he spied it, he had trouble keeping his composure as well. Standing in the entryway, looking around for a place to sit was probably the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen.