The West...?

As we finished the "Shizuku" album tour, there was an instance when I suddenly thought "Ahh, I'll make new songs after this!!" That's right, Kagrra's first performance in America. Since it doesn't seem that the misfortune this time is another person's problem, I'd like everyone to read with caution...

The truth is, although we had decided a performance in America for Kagrra some time ago, the plans changed several times since the beginning and as we looked on in amazement, it developed as one big project. The details were made public, and on a schedule that wouldn't even be thought of in Japan the day before a live, the event was over in the blink of an eye. I personally scrambled so that I could take a breather, but my condition at the airport was physically and mentally "damaged," different than my usual state. I'll write about it here.

The morning we were leaving America, I woke up and noticed that our manager wasn't sleeping in the adjacent bed as she should have been. While rubbing my eyes that still weren't fully open, I searched for the digital clock beside me. The clock read that the meeting was already 10 minutes ago. Flustered, I hurried to do everything that I could. I combed out my hair while brushing my teeth, I changed my clothes, and I crammed all of my things into a bag that wouldn't seem to fit no matter how I did it, so I tread it down.

I got everything ready and confirmed that I left nothing behind, but in a case like this, even when there's no luggage left behind I'm going to be too anxious. Chased by time, I quickly tied up the hair behind my head, jumped into the elevator and descended to the hotel lobby. The elevator doors opened with a high-pitched ding! and, pleased that I somehow wasn't late after all, I looked around to find the other members. Then I realized that my uneasiness had been entirely unnecessary. In spite of how much I hurried with my packing, I was somehow the first to arrive. Half angry and half relieved, I checked out, then went outside for my daily morning smoke and lit one of my few remaining cigarettes from Japan.

Just as I was done smoking, everybody met up and came outside to board the bus. The ride to the airport from our hotel would be about 40 minutes. Without any spare time to take in the scenery of the country, I looked back over the past three days while gazing out the window. When I think about it, it was about 7 years since we started the band. In those days I never would've considered that we'd be playing lives overseas. My lingering drowsiness was still dragging out while I was indulging in those thoughts, and inside the bus there was an announcement that we had arrived at the L.A. airport.

We were departing early in the morning, so the procedure was relatively smooth. When I was finished, I went outside for my last smoke in America. There were still two hours before take-off. While I was smoking I checked once again that the hair I tied up was in order, and that I hadn't left anything behind. I thought about how to use the remaining time and then it occurred to me to have junk food for breakfast, so I went to McDonald's on the second floor of the airport.

Although I say McDonald's, it's much different than the ones in Japan, and there was nothing on the menu I was familiar with. None of the foods I remembered were displayed inside, and there weren't any drinks other than carbonated soda. I ordered an Egg McMuffin and Cola with broken English, and just as I paid with my few remaining dollar bills, the food arrived. When I turned to where there was a restroom, the other members and our manager were all sitting at a table so I joined them to eat breakfast. We talked about our impressions of yesterday's live, and our plans for when we got back to our home country, fully enjoying the time we had left in America.

While we were having such rambling conversations, time was passing in the blink of an eye and the manager spoke up while waiting for everyone to finish their breakfast. "Well, isn't it time to go?"

I looked at my watch and it was just the right time. I emptied the rest of my cola and tossed the paper cup in the trash, and hefting my sportsbag onto my shoulder, followed after the members and manager.

Then, once I'd walked several steps, an indescribable chill ran down my spine. I didn't have something I needed to take out for customs inspection... something essential for returning to my home country. That's right, my passport. Feeling the blood drain from my whole body, I turned without telling anyone and ran at full speed back to the table where we had just been a moment ago. Rushing up to the table as I broke out in an unusual cold sweat, I saw that there were already new customers eating and chatting pleasantly.

"Have I left anything behind here?" I asked them, however, my words didn't get through to them clearly. I was determined and searched aimlessly all around the area. And like this, the time was approaching...

"N-no way... I can't get home..."

Plunging into darkness, I was standing on the edge of despair. And my manager, who was too far away to understand, had a face full of anger. "Hey you! What are you doing?! If you don't hurry we'll miss the plane!!"

It was natural for the manager to be angry, but in the next minute the blood drained from the manager's face too, when she understood.

"I don't have my passport..."

Feebly responding to me, the manager said, "Are you lying...?" and then, more quickly, "Where? Where is it? Your pockets? Your bag? Where did you put it? You couldn't have left it at the hotel, could you? Did you look at the table we were sitting at just now? Well? Where is it?!!"

My manager was falling into a panic with me, and our eyes were everywhere, stuck with the job of looking for the passport. It was neither here nor there and we were at our wits' end. Izumi, who had been walking ahead, noticed our strange situation and came back to us. "What's the matter?"

In response to Izumi's question I went straight to the point. "I can't go home..."

"Eh? Why not?" he said, then, and with an expression of curiosity listened to my repeated explanation.

"I lost the passport..." I cursed and hung my head in misery and regret.

"The passport? If it's your passport, Isshi, I have it with me!!"

Eh? While he spoke, Izumi took out something that was unmistakeably my passport. It seemed that somehow or other I had put my passport down on the table we were sitting at a while ago, and Izumi worried that I might've lost it so he made the smart move and took it with him.

I felt relieved and at peace of mind, but in the next moment a new cold sweat broke out. It was natural that the manager, who had nothing to do with Izumi having my passport, would be angry, and I was prepared to be harshly scolded, but surprisingly my manager wasn't that angry after all. It seemed like she had been resigned to me being unable to leave, and now her relief exceeded her anger.

Thus, one way or another I got back to my home country, and now I sit at my desk using that calamity as the material for a new story. And they all lived happily ever after...

...or so I thought for a moment. Somehow, when I went overseas, the deadline for this story had already passed and when I got back home I had no time to take a breather, having to write my manuscript...