Visual Kei

“Hello, hello, everyone,” Gackt called regally, stepping out of a curtained divider between the main room and the back room we had been sitting in. “It is certainly a pleasure to see so many of my friends and associates filling up the seats in my very own Tamaly Bar.” Thunderous applause rippled through the moderate crowd. Gackt stood in front of the dining area on a slightly-raised platform meant for live music. Although there were no spotlights on him, he was the center of attention. He had an air of majesty about him, the aura of a true aristocrat. “And I have the pleasure of introducing my newest associate, Alice Tanoue!” The room was silent for a painstakingly long moment before the applause started. He retrieved me from behind the curtain, his arm linked graciously in mine. I could feel the tense ripple of his muscles beneath the expensive suit as he led me toward the center of the stage.

As soon as I stepped out, I looked over the crowd. Some were Visual Kei artists, but the great majority was J pop and J rock stars. Some were Korean and very, very few were American. I recognized some of the faces, although I’d never been formally introduced to any of them. Even though they were all obviously dressed to impress, they looked comfortable with themselves and their surroundings, and very sophisticated. I blushed as he continued introductions, but I didn’t really listen to what he was saying. I focused on the face of someone I had met not long ago.

In the front row, sitting beside an unfamiliar Visual Kei artist was Miyavi. His eyes were wide in disbelief as he stared at Gackt holding me so near him. Although it was all show, I doubted that Miyavi knew that. The man sitting beside him turned his head toward him and spoke softly into his ear. I sensed Miyavi’s curiosity and a touch of envy. His eyes met mine for a moment before he hastily looked away.

“But best of all, I have been graced with the opportunity to present yet another guest of honor. This man in the front row goes by the stage name Miyavi.” Gackt’s arm arced toward the Visual Kei artist who bowed his head in polite greeting. “I would like to congratulate him on his latest album, which has sold over 100,000 copies in its first month. Now, without further ado, please indulge in the very best Tamaly Bar has to offer. Bon appétit, my friends!”

Smiling to me in a way that was almost private, he offered me his arm again. I took it, not quite willingly, and allowed him to graciously lead me down the steps from the stage and toward Miyavi’s table. Their eyes met, and the two men’s fiercely smoldering gazes battled silently and Gackt fought a dark little smile.

“This is Alice, as I’m sure you know, my friend,” Gackt said to Miyavi, his hand folding over mine. I stared at it for a while uncomfortably. I hoped this display would stop at hand-touching.

“Yes, I believe we have met before. It is a pleasure, as always,” he said to me, bowing his head politely. “You look… different from when I first saw you.” He smiled, his eyes wandering over the dress. “I rather like this new look.” He tapped one of the diamond clasps on the shoulder strap. “You look… like a goddess.” His lips quirked into a smile, crooked and mocking.

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Thank you, but your compliments seem to have been derived from elsewhere.” I slid my hand out from underneath Gackt’s, placing both into my lap under the table. “And here I had thought you the paragon of originality.”

“And I am,” he assured me, chuckling. “Ah, but I seem to have forgotten myself. This man beside me,” he said, gesturing to the person I hadn’t recognized, “is called Hitt. He is an indie artist in the Visual Kei scene. Hitt, this is Alice.”

“A pleasure,” he said in a throaty baritone. “I have heard much about you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same,” I replied. “But the pleasure is mine.”

“It is to be expected,” he said with a small smile. He looked to Miyavi, his face smooth and carefree. If it weren’t for my strange form of telepathy, I would have wondered if he knew this was dangerous for him. “This is quite the gathering. Your second grand opening is quite grand, indeed.”

Gackt smiled a small smile, but his eyes glinted with pleasure. “I had hoped for more guests, but this is beyond sufficient. I hope you are enjoying yourselves. Did you bring any other friends?” Miyavi swirled the glass of wine in his hand.

“Yes, of course. I can’t be in public alone. It isn’t my thing,” he replied, his energy seeping out through his words although he seemed relatively calm. I knew what he meant, and as my eyes scanned the guests, I noticed some Visual Kei musicians, although most looked as normal as the J pop and J rock musicians without their makeup and flashy clothing.

“I see.” As Gackt was about to speak again, Samael tapped his shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Gackt’s face went smooth instantly. I didn’t need telepathy to see that what he had been told had disturbed him greatly. He stood immediately, bowing in apology. “Please excuse me for one moment. I’m afraid there is something I must attend to quickly.” When he left, I felt no discomfort under the men’s gaze. In fact, they seemed more comfortable without Gackt there.

“When we first met, and you said that you represented him, I didn’t think you really meant that. I thought maybe you were a new recruit and you would eventually see the foolishness in his objective…” Miyavi said, tracing the lip of his wine glass with his finger. “But here you are.”

I said nothing, staring at him almost listlessly. I didn’t feel like listening to man-talk anymore.

“You do not seem fond of him, yet you bow to his every whim. Why is that? The great Alice Tanoue, incarnation of Amaterasu, bowing and scraping to appease a lowly vampire!”

“I’m not overly fond of him, but he seems as worthy of my respect as you are. You know why I serve him, but I do not ‘bow and scrape’ for him. I am hardly a slave.”

Miyavi laughed softly. “How little you know about this man you serve. What little fondness you have for him will diminish soon enough,” he said darkly, his hand sliding into his pocket as his eyes focused on me intensely. “And you will need my protection afterwards.” As he said so, his hand slid palm-down across the table, and beneath his hand, I could sense something familiar. When he withdrew his hand, I saw one of my flash drive earrings. I picked it up cautiously, eyeing Miyavi’s face the whole time. He smugly stared at me, sipping his wine, and encouraged me to look it over to make sure it was mine.

It was. It could not be mistaken. As I touched the earring, I felt a familiar pulling from within it. Kiiro had most certainly had this before Miyavi. I glanced at him suspiciously, wondering how and where he acquired it.

He stood, Hitt following his actions like a mirror. “Tell your master that I must be going. It has been an interesting experience, but I have real work to do. Oh, and Alice? I’m told that you have a meeting with Chino soon, and that you may have a gift for him. Do not forget about it. I have a feeling that it is important.” He smiled cheerily, bowing his head before turning on his heel and strolling out, Hitt at his heels.

I stared after him, turning the earring in my hand.

What did this mean?