Chapter Text
Hajime released a long sigh, resting his head on the steering wheel of his car in thought. This was good. This was the right move. Maybe if he kept telling himself that then he would be convinced it was true.
When Hajime first returned to Japan, he figured getting a job would be easy. He was a college educated responsible young man with a filled resume and glowing recommendations from his time in America. He was not picky about employment. He would prefer something he could do outside. He wouldn’t mind working with other people. Anything to avoid the dreariness of paperwork and desks was a nice thought, but even this was not an absolute rule. What else could you want in an employee?
He had managed to save some money in America which he used to move to Tokyo about a month after his return. Tokyo, he reasoned, had more job opportunities and he had some friends who lived there as well. It was just an additional benefit that none of these friends were as pushy as his mother, aunties, and neighbors. He wasn’t sure how many times he had turned down invitations to meet or date some unknown cousin, niece, or daughter, but it was more than Hajime wanted. The enormity of the city would definitely take some of the romantic heat off of him.
“What a thing to complain about,” Kindaichi bemoaned over the phone.
“No one wants to introduce me to their sons or nephews,” Hajime reminded him. “It’s a waste of time. I’m not going to explain my sexual orientation to every random person in Miyagi.”
Kindaichi hummed in understanding, though his sympathy didn’t increase.
Despite Hajime’s initial thoughts, Tokyo proved to have a stiff and sparse job market. Rejection after rejection slowly sapped away Hajime's original optimism. His savings slowly disintegrated before his eyes. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. It was either ask for some help or start working at a lower paying gig, which might still have him back at his parents’ home. He reached out to his friends. Kindaichi and Kyotani were all stand up guys in their own fields, none of which Hajime had particular interest in. Still, he was getting desperate.
"I have a lead," Kyotani informed him, sitting across a grill as they drank the cheapest beer from the menu. “Yahaba found it.”
That made Hajime feel a bit more uneasy. It’s not that he didn’t like Yahaba because really he was the only one who could put up with the stand-offish Kyotani and they seemed very much in love. The problem was Yahaba had a streak of trouble in him. He always seemed to sense more, observe more, and know more than he let on. That made Hajime uneasy. Like he had to stay on his toes. Kyotani continued with his pitch, ticking off his fingers as he spoke.
"It fulfills all your criteria: people, not very much desk work, and active.”
“What is this dream job,” Hajime asked, trying to be more optimistic than he felt.
“It's a bodyguard gig."
That was not what Hajime had expected at all. He tried to think of the last time he saw a bodyguard, maybe at a concert or festival? He thought they were just the beefy, mean looking guys who stood with their arms crossed next to the stage. Wait, maybe those were security guards. Was there a difference? His confusion must have been evident because Kindaichi picked up on the pitch.
“I think you’d do great with that! You’ve trained in fighting and defense and it’ll let you see a whole new side of Tokyo. Could be exciting to rub elbows with famous people.”
"Yahaba said that Dachi says they're really desperate,” Kyotani replied, sipping his beer. “If you show up it's basically a sure thing."
"Who is the client," Hajime asked. He didn’t necessarily like the idea of running into snobs, but he wasn’t in a place to be choosy.
"Dachi wouldn't say, only that Ushijima had him before and only lasted about six month. Kuroo is taking bets on how long the next guy lasts. Yahaba has three and a half months." At Hajime’s scornful glare, he quickly added, "Unless the new guy is you, of course. Then it's eight months and you quit on good terms."
“You can handle one bratty spoiled celebrity,” Kindaichi offered. Hajime was oddly moved by his faith.
"There's nothing else," Hajime asked hopefully. He didn’t keep up to date on most pop culture and gossip, but he couldn’t help recalling some of the celebrity horror stories he had heard of. Horrible and stuck up personalities, obsessed with their looks. Some of them bullied their peers and assistants. Hajime thought he remembered one account where a celebrity needed a specific expensive candle burning in her dressing room and no one was allowed to look at her when they passed her. Kyotani shrugged.
"Nothing else. My condolences."
That's how Hajime found himself in his car, head resting on his steering wheel, willing himself to go into the tall office building. He could do this. He could last for just a few paychecks. He could use his free time to look for another job. With this plan in mind, Hajime stepped from the car and made his way into the office. The entrance was on the extravagant side with suits walking by hurriedly on phones, nudging passed Hajime. This was exactly the sort of place that would deal with the worst types of clients. They clearly had something to prove, a desire to impress, and it left Hajime with a distaste in his mouth. He hoped the criteria wouldn’t be too much. He had never been good at pretending to be polite and kind in the face of rudeness or disrespect. Bullshit begot bullshit.
He remembered his barely existent funds and sighed again. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.
In the center of the large marble lobby was an enormous desk with a petite blonde. She was on the phone redirecting a call, hands moving rapidly across a keyboard before clicking a button. Her eyes moved from the keys as Hajime approached. He tried to give her a slight smile, but it must have seemed forced because she quickly looked down again, hiding her light brown eyes behind the stray strands of hair that had fallen from her bun. She gave another decisive punch before pulling the headphone away from her ears. The nametag on her pressed blazer introduced her as Hitoka Yachi.
"What can I help you with," she said, voice more confident than her facial features implied. Maybe it was just how large the desk was that made her seem to be shrinking. Hajime tried again to rearrange his face into one that was more approachable. He was a nice person, even if his face insisted on sitting in a frown.
"I’m here for an interview," Hajime explained. "I’m Iwaizumi Hajime."
The secretary shuffled through her notepad before coming to a stop, her eyes widening slightly as she said, "Oh! For Project Popstar."
"Project-" Hajime began, but Yachi was already pushing a call button and speaking into the phone. Whatever she heard must have confirmed Hajime's interview because when she hung up she beamed, making her whole face light up.
"Go on up to floor thirty-four. Sawamura is there for your welcome tour and briefing."
"My-“ Hajime was confused. He had spent months trying to get a job, even making it past the application phase to get an interview had been a struggle. Now he just walked in and got the gig? “But I didn't interview."
"Your resume speaks for itself and Sawamura did recommend you, so…" She seemed nervous, like she wasn't normally the one to make such explanations. She probably wasn't. Still, she stood and bowed. "I'm Hitoka Yachi. I'm pleased to welcome you to our company!" When Hajime didn't respond she peeked up at him. "Sawamura is expecting you on floor thirty-four.”
This snapped Hajime out of his daze enough to make his way to the elevator. What kind of job just hired you without an interview, he wondered. Maybe it was a front for the yakuza, he considered. The air in the elevator suddenly felt very hot and stuffy. Hajime shifted slightly, tugging at his neck in discomfort. Oh god, he was going to end up cutting off his finger or murdering someone all because he couldn’t get a job. Surely Kyotani would have warned him if it was a mob job though, right? Right. Hajime was relieved when the elevator opened and he saw a familiar figure standing there. Daichi beamed, slapping him on the back as he exited.
"Congratulations! I told Yahaba it would work out. Come with me and I'll show you to your desk. You probably won't be in the office much, but we all have one for paperwork issues or for in-between gigs. Boring stuff really. You'll mostly be in the field with your client."
The mention of this mysterious client put Hajime on alert again, even as he tried to breathe deeply and set his mind at ease. Hajime fell into step as they moved through the office. As they walked, Daichi pulled some papers from a file and handed them to Hajime. He pointed at each as he explained their purpose.
"You'll need to fill these out for Human Resources. This is a confirmation and copy of your background check and fingerprints. That’s for your files. Sometimes the clients want a copy for extra confirmation. Same with the copy of your firearm and defensive training, which are," he shuffled through some other papers before finding them. "Here."
Hajime tried to categorize each of the papers, shuffling them into a pile for Human Resource and for himself. There was a lot to take in and keep up with, especially considering he was still trying to figure out how he got the job so quickly. Not that he should complain. Unless it was a mob front…. A new voice drew his attention away before he could start down that rabbit hole again.
"Is this the fresh meat?"
Daichi and Hajime turned to see a tall lean man with broad shoulders and a muscular frame. His narrow, hazel colored cat-like eyes were watching Hajime as he leaned lazily over his cubicle wall, his black hair ruffled into a bed head that partially covered his right eye. As rude as it was to think, Hajime’s first thought was that he looked distinctly like a rooster.
"Iwaizumi, this is Kuroo," Daichi explained.
"Ah the guy who got hired for the Oikawa job, huh," Kuroo tutted. His smirk ruining the sympathetic tone.
"Project Popstar," Daichi corrected sternly, though there was a slight twitch of his lip.
“That's a boring secret name," Kuroo whined. "We might as well call it the Diva Detail."
"Be honest," Hajime said. "How bad is it?"
"You don't know who Oikawa is," asked Kuroo, his eyebrows raising just slightly.
"Iwaizumi’s been in America," Daichi offered.
"I wasn't into celebrity gossip before I left either," Hajime shrugged. “I assume he’s a big deal?”
"Depends. Do you think consistently being in the billboard top ten with an army of howling rabid fans is a big deal? We’re talking million dollars in suits type of popstar. A diva of diva. One tabloid only refers to him as spoiled rich boy popstar."
“It's not that bad," Daichi argued.
“I read an article that said he made an assistant cry because the car that picked him up at the airport wasn't shiny enough."
"Ushijima said he isn't as bad as the press makes out."
"Ushijima got the silent treatment for four out of six months. Probably the ideal situation to be in with Oikawa Tooru." Kuroo laughed. “When do you start?"
Hajime glanced at Daichi.
"Tomorrow morning at nine," Daichi explained. "The manager will be expecting you at the address in the orientation folder on your desk. He does technically have the final say. If he doesn’t like you, then you may be out of the job."
“No pressure,” Hajime grumbled. He knew there had to be a catch to this. Kuroo whistled lowly.
“I heard if you want Petulant Prince to like you then just keep complimenting how pretty he is, that he fishes for it all the time. Maybe try that.”
“Since when are you so up on the gossip,” Daichi asked, shoving their friend lightly. Hajime noted Daichi hadn’t pushed back very hard against the warnings. That made Hajime a bit uneasy. Daichi was a good guy with a good judge of character. If the press was completely off about this Oikawa guy he would have said more to defend him. There had to be at least a bit of truth in the rumors.
Kuroo grinned. “Do yourself a favor and read the brief before you go over to meet them tomorrow."
"Shut up, Kuroo," Daichi said.
"Wouldn't hurt to investigate," Hajime considered as they moved away. Daichi shrugged.
"Just don't freak yourself out."
That evening, Hajime flipped through the brief as he made himself tea. Everything seemed normal enough from Hajime's limited knowledge of popstars. Oikawa Tooru had initially won second place in a televised talent competition at six, but disappeared for the rest of his childhood until he popped up again at ten in a boy band called Boy Crush. A quick google search revealed videos of the typical pop-y fluff filled music. Pre-pubescent kids singing about love and making googly eyes at girls as they did coordinated dance moves on stage. Hajime clicked on an interview. Five boys with distinct hair colors, styles, and outfits sat together, all smiling and approachable. The interviewer was also a teen, perhaps a contest winner. She was obviously a fan because she kept tapping her note cards on her knee, tossing sidelong looks at the boys before her. Finally she spoke to Oikawa.
“Tooru, who is your biggest inspiration?”
The boy she spoke to had chestnut hair and matching eyes that widened slightly before crinkling into a boyish grin that showed all of his teeth. He seemed genuinely happy to be included in the questioning, even nudging the boy next to him (a gray haired boy with a beauty mark on his cheek) slightly before he answered.
“Probably my mom. She loves music and taught me how to read it, as well as how to play piano.”
“That’s who you invited to the East Asian Music Awards last month, right,” asked the interviewer. She leaned forward with interest, as if reeled in by some imaginary gravitational pull. Oikawa mirrored her, his eyes dancing at the memory.
“I did! She had a lot of fun!”
“What about your dad?”
Oikawa leaned back, smile still in place, but it seemed stiffer than before. His teeth were gone and the wrinkles around his eyes had disappeared. Still, he answered in a chirper tone just like before. “My dad is also really helpful! He works in the music business and helps Boy Crush sometimes. I think he really wants to see me and the band go far!”
Hajime closed the interview, turning back to the brief. A few years ago, Oikawa branched out and started his own band (The Pretenders). They were a bit more advanced with a bit more variety in their songs and sound, but still the regular replaceable pop you might hear while shopping. Normally Hajime considered this sort of shit more of a headache than music, but Oikawa’s band did play actual instruments. Their sound was a tiny bit less obnoxious than the Boy Crush songs, but not by much. Hajime supposed it didn’t matter what he thought. According to the file, Oikawa and his band were the first to have four singles enter the Top 40 before the official release of a debut album.
Hajime found an interview from the last album the Pretenders released (The Great Pretender). Where there had once been five boys there were now three men, all in their early twenties. The guitarist (Hanamaki, according to the brief) had pink-brown short-cropped hair that revealed his forehead. His expression was bored, but his short and slim eyebrows over beadier eyes made it look as if he were ready to cause some sort of trouble. The drummer (Matsukawa) also had a bored expression, this one more unreadable though not unfriendly. He had short messy black hair and thick eyebrows. Every so often the two would exchange brief looks as if they were having their own conversation during the interview. In between the two was Oikawa Tooru, still with chestnut hair and eyes, but now his hair was well styled. His clothes were artfully placed and his body language perfectly positioned. He seemed to have studied exactly what sort of impression he wished to give the world and had made sure every detail, every hair, every button, worked towards that aim. He gave the interviewer a wink and she flushed slightly, turning her card over to the next question.
“This question comes from our beauty section,” the interviewer twittered, seemingly unable to meet Oikawa’s eye again. “What do you do to keep yourself looking so fresh, even after the long hours of practice?”
Oikawa let out a gracious chuckle before saying, “What an excellent question!” Hajime found himself rolling his eyes, hand gripping the mouse tighter than he needed to. In the video, Hanamaki rolled his eyes as well, though he seemed more bemused than annoyed. Oikawa continued on with a teasing lilt to his voice. “I do use a number of steps that my friends in make-up have recommended, but so much of what you see is simply what I was born with. I try to highlight rather than hide. It’s important that we all appreciate the gifts we have because we all have them!”
“Yuck,” Hajime said, closing the interview. He couldn’t take it anymore. Gone was the enthusiastic and genuine boy from the first interview. This conceited fake performer was what Hajime would be dealing with. It was annoying, but certainly nothing less than Hajime had expected. Overall, the briefing was much less exciting than Kuroo made it sound. He turned the page to Ushijima's observations. Sure, sometimes this Oikawa Tooru character got into some trouble (staying out a bit late, maybe being spotted with a girl here or there and getting the reputation of a playboy), but he wasn't a drinker, he didn't do drugs, he didn't even have a criminal record. Hajime scratched his neck. This seemed like your usual spoiled untalented brat. Hajime could handle it.
Despite all the research and preparation he had done, Hajime parked in the staff area forty-five minutes early and contemplated his life choices. Hajime would need to show his worth to Oikawa’s manager in order to keep this job and he needed this job. Flipping open his orientation packet he quickly reviewed the “Golden Rules of Body Guarding” to try and steady his nerves.
1. Humility. Focus is on the client and your focus is on the crowd and safety in the scene.
2. Respect. Temper your ambitions with respect at all times.
3. Advance Work. This includes knowing exits, entrances, schedules, and attendees to notice potential issues or suspects before they become a problem.
4. Integrity. Be honorable and honest in your private life and during your interactions as a bodyguard.
5. Professionalism. Distinguish yourself as a dedicated professional with total conviction and discipline for the trade. Keep all relationships professional and courteous, but never crossing beyond with a client.
6. Health. Keep healthy and in good physical shape. It’s good for business and increases your career and life span.
7. Behavior. Training is a prerequisite, however it will only help when added to courteousness, friendliness, reliability, trustworthiness, and other behavior qualities.
Easy. He could do this. He could babysit a spoiled brat for a few months until he found a better gig. Besides, the pay was more than enough to keep him out of his parents’ house and it even provided some extra cash for fun on the side. Best to get it started.
Everything about the mansion seemed to fit with the Oikawa that had shared his thoughts on skin care the night before. The walk from the parking area to the mansion was obnoxiously long and curvy, clearly designed to allow guests the time to be impressed by the size of the mansion and by the landscaping. The front door was made up of two large oak planks that were intricately designed with blooming vines carved into the wood. They must have wasted a fortune on this feature alone, thought Hajime with a twinge of disgust. Must be nice to have such a fortune to spare. Just as he was thinking this the door flew open to reveal the popstar in question.
For a moment Oikawa and Hajime stared at one another, blinking as if they were both surprised by the other’s appearance at the door. Truthfully, Hajime was a bit taken back.
Oikawa Tooru didn't look like a popstar. He was handsome enough in person and taller than Hajime had anticipated, but other than that something didn’t match up. The pictures in the brief showed Oikawa surrounded by several girls, smiling in a broad fake way, sometimes making a victory sign accompanied by a wink or a tongue poking out of his mouth playfully. One picture had his arm around a pretty girl with glasses and dark hair, all plastic smirk, practically sparkling. However, this Oikawa standing before him had none of those traits. His six foot stature radiated a relaxed demeanor, something oddly approachable in his torn and worn AC/DC shirt that was so old it seemed see through at the edges. It certainly wasn’t the attire of a high maintenance popstar. Oikawa's face broke into an excited smile showing all of his teeth and making his eyes crinkle in delight as a small laugh fell from his lips. He grabbed Hajime’s arm and yanked him into the house.
"You're early," Oikawa crowed loudly and it was nothing like the suave tones he used on stage or in interviews. Oikawa kicked the door closed behind him as he continued to drag Hajime up the stairs. "We weren't expecting you for another hour at least."
"An hour," Hajime echoed. "I thought-"
"Certainly not very rock-n-roll of you to be so early, but definitely appreciated." Oikawa beamed like a kid in a candy store. He dragged Hajime down a hall, passing at least five doors, twittering the whole way. Hajime barely had enough time to register that this mansion must be larger than it appeared outside to have so many rooms on one floor when Oikawa distracted him once again. He shoved a door open revealing a sound studio. The rest of the band was sitting inside, instruments laid across their laps or in front of them as they chatted nonchalantly. They all looked up when Oikawa called, "look who I found!"
"Don’t tell me,” Matsukawa said, spinning a drumstick in his right hand as he looked over Hajime. “My birthday came early and you ordered strippers.”
Hajime instinctively glared, shoulders rolled back as he normally would when challenged in such a way.
"I'm Iwa-," Hajime began but before he could finish, Hanamaki spoke up. His guitar was balanced across his lap as he scrolled through his phone.
“Have you looked at what playlist our songs are on? This playlist is called Big Daddy make me Big Saddy. Am I complimented or offended?”
“Definitely complimented,” Matsukawa replied easily. “Say hello to our little friend.”
Hanamaki looked up, eyes skimming over Oikawa, then Hajime, and finally landing on the place Oikawa was still holding onto Hajime. His eyebrows raised just slightly, but otherwise he seemed unaffected.
"Not to be racist, but he doesn't look like a vocalist.”
“How is that racist,” Oikawa asked.
“I said I wasn’t being racist. No one listens to me here,” Hanamaki lamented turning towards Matsukawa. Oikawa ran his free hand across his face before throwing Hajime an apologetic look.
“I promise they’re not always this insane. They’re really normal guys.”
“I resent that,” Matsukawa said.
Oikawa gave Hajime that welcoming smile again. Hajime could sense the tension in the room lessen as he introduced the band members in turn. He gestured to the general disarray of the studio. “What's your name again? I have your resume somewhere around here but…You know."
"Iwaizumi Hajime."
"No way he's a vocalist," Hanamaki said firmly and now his phone was completely away, eyes boring into Hajime with more interest than before. It made Hajime shift slightly, not that he could go far because he realized Oikawa was still grasping his wrist. Oikawa shot the guitarist a scowl.
"Don't let them discourage you, Iwa-chan. It's part of their hazing."
"Iwa-chan," Hajime, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa chorused. Matsukawa and Hanamaki exchanged looks, then turned their attention to Oikawa. Hajime couldn’t tell what their looks mean, but he knew it was related to him because Oikawa released his wrist as if he had been burned. Matsukawa covered his chuckles with his hand as Oikawa tried to brush off the sudden change. His ears a bit redder on the top than they had been before due to his excitement and perhaps from the rush of their arrival to the studio.
“Before we get started on your audition, let us warm up quickly. Go sit with Suga-chan there.”
Hajime was so confused by all this that he found himself obeying, turning to see a fourth person in the room behind a grid of electronics, headphones pulled down on his neck. He was average in height with a slender build and light grey hair. The birthmark on his cheek made him look vaguely familiar. He gave Hajime a gentle smile as he introduced himself as Koshi Sugawara, sound producer. Hajime realized he was also once part of Boy Crush, the boy Oikawa had nudged during the interview.
“Why don’t you play something so Iwaizumi has time to adjust," Sugawara suggested and the band nodded. “Something from before.”
"Before," Hajime asked.
"Before we started doing pop," Matsukawa said, spinning his sticks again as he sat.
"The Pretenders have known each other since they were teens. They played some different styles," Sugawara explained. “We’ve been trying to convince the studio to incorporate some different sounds, but they’ve been resistant.”
To Hajime’s surprise, Hanamaki grabbed the bass as Oikawa grabbed the electric guitar. All the videos Hajime had seen showed Oikawa exclusively as the front man with no instruments in sight.
"He plays like five instruments," muttered Sugawara, obviously noting Hajime’s surprise. "It'd be obnoxious if I didn't know how much practice it takes to learn each one."
The three were huddled at Matsukawa’s drums, discussing what to do. The drummer shook his head, saying something that made Hanamaki’s lip quirk up in amusement before nudging Oikawa lightly. They were obviously very fond of one another. The popstar couldn’t be that bad, right? Unless, Hajime’s brain supplied, he requires people who work for him to hold fans on him at all times to keep him cool.
Oikawa gave a half shrug and it was decided. Turning back to the small group, Oikawa winked at Hajime. For the first time he saw the performer from his internet research. “Prepare to be amazed."
"Don't set us up for failure like that," Matsukawa scolded. "We haven't played real music in ages."
Oikawa looked like he was about to whine about Matsukawa’s lack of support, but he was cut off by the sound of drum sticks counting them in. Immediately, Oikawa moved closer to the speaker to create a feedback sound before stepping away and moving his hand across the strings. They released a hard tune. Within half a beat Matsukawa joined him, sticks bouncing rapidly off the snare drum. Hanamaki’s bass joined in, providing structure to the song as Oikawa’s rifts moved to a more steady key change, his hand sliding up the neck in order to create a wave effect. He moved to the microphone, his hands continuing to move across the strings, body moving slightly as he tapped his foot to keep time with his singing.
"Close your mouth before he catches you," Sugawara suggested, a smug look on his face. "Otherwise we'll never hear the end of it."
Hajime glared at the producer, drawing his attention back to the song as Hanamaki and Oikawa harmonized for the chorus. None of the videos from Boy Crush or The Pretenders had prepared Hajime for this. He had expected some barely talented performer, but instead…. Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he hit an especially difficult rift before releasing the guitar to croon into the microphone, both hands on the stand. He threw his head to the side, normally neat hair thrown into disarray as he went back to the strings again, hopping slightly away for a solo. Hajime could see beads of sweat forming on his temple. Hajime couldn't take his eyes off of Oikawa, even as Sugawara nudged him slightly. Hajime willed himself to glance momentarily at the other band member. He wished he hadn’t when he caught Hanamaki smirking at him. Hajime didn’t like the knowing glint.
Matsukawa took one more solo because slamming the drums in sync with Hanamaki and Oikawa’s last strum, then they all paused. Oikawa and Hanamaki stared at one another for a moment before both their faces cracked into broad grins.
"Looks like you’ve still got it," Oikawa teased.
"Shut up, pretty boy," Hanamaki huffed with only half the bite the words implied. "It's more impressive that you even know how to play anymore."
Sugawara clapped and the band seemed to remember they had an audience. Oikawa turned back to them, putting away the guitar. “Thoughts?”
“Isn’t it weird how some rocks have auras, but that aura is to make your skin tingle and melt away,” Hanamaki supplied readily.
“Is this about the Chernobyl documentary we saw last night,” Matsukawa asked as if this response was completely normal.
“It might be related.”
“I meant thoughts about the song,” Oikawa said. When Hanamaki opened his mouth to respond, Oikawa added, “I was talking to Iwa-chan.”
“I was just going to say it was banging,” Hanamaki pouted. “Suga, tell Tooru to be nicer to me!”
“I was going to say the drummer needs a bigger solo,” Matsukawa added. “But it can’t be helped. We’ve been replaced by a new favorite.”
Oikawa ignored them both, shuffling some papers around at the keyboard. He spoke to Hajime again as if none of the previous comments had affected him. "Now you’ve seen us and based on Makki and Matsun’s behavior, we clearly have chemistry."
"Chemistry, Matsun," Hanamaki said wiggling his eyebrows.
"Let’s get down to it!" Honestly it was impressive Oikawa could continue to power through in these conditions. "What sort of music do you prefer, Iwa-chan? Something top ten worthy? Maybe from the last album?"
"God no," Hajime said before he could stop himself. Whoops, so much for that rule about professionalism and humility. Hanamaki let out a cackle.
"Forget the audition, he's got my vote.”
Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Hanamaki. For a moment Hajime was worried he'd be offended, but the popstar turned his brown eyes back to Hajime and smiled broadly, practically illuminating the room with its glow. "Fair enough, it's not everyone's taste. How about something a bit funky? I’ve been working on some American tunes to practice my English."
"Sing opera," Matsukawa offered, getting a chuckle from Suga. Oikawa threw him another dirty look.
"If you two don’t focus then Suga-chan and I will audition him without you."
"Audition," Hajime repeated, confusion back. He had been so swept away with the performance he had almost forgotten about the strange encounter leading up to it. He was here for a meeting about being a bodyguard. No one had told him about an audition.
"Iwa-chan didn't think he'd join the band off good looks alone, did he?" Oikawa was shuffling through his own papers again. He found what he was looking for and put a sheet of music in front of him before handing a copy to Hajime. The music sheet included lyrics to some songs Hajime had never heard of before. He couldn’t even read music, so it wasn’t like he knew the tune to follow either. Hajime could feel Sugawara watching him carefully, but Oikawa didn’t seem to notice Hajime’s growing dismay and confusion. Oikawa clapped his hands and turned back to his keyboard, cracking his knuckles. "I'll play you in. One, two, three and a-"
“Wait!” They all looked at Hajime, who was holding up both hands, having finally caught up with the absurdity of this situation. Now that he had their attention though he felt ill prepared. He managed to confess, “I can’t read music.”
Oikawa tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion, not a bit of suspicion on his face. He looked like he had never heard of such a thing. As if Hajime had just told him that he didn’t eat anything but tofu. “What kind of vocalist can’t read music?”
“That kind that is supposed to be your bodyguard,” answered another voice, older though carrying the same lilt that Oikawa's had.
All eyes moved back to Hajime as he turned, music sheet still in hand, to see his savior. The file had mentioned that Oikawa’s manager was also his father. The senior Oikawa was nearly identical to his son, but a bit more gray and wrinkled. His lip quirked a bit at the ends, as if he were observing something he found especially amusing but that no one else had spotted yet. His eyes were stone cold.
"Names Oikawa Eiji, I'm the band manager and the one hiring the bodyguard. That you?"
"Yes sir," Hajime said, reaching out his hand to shake. The senior Oikawa took it firmly, nodding in approval as he glanced over Hajime's arm.
"At least we don’t have to wonder if you have the muscle we need," he joked. He glanced over Hajime's shoulder. "You've met the band I see. That's good. Tooru didn't scare you off already, did he?"
"No, sir," Hajime replied. He didn't dare glance back. The atmosphere in the room had changed dramatically. There was a new tension hanging there. It stifled the air itself. Even Sugawara didn’t speak, though Hajime did hear him release a long breath.
“I don’t remember anyone approving vocalist auditions,” the manager continued, and now he was looking at his son, smile gone from his face. “Cancel the appointments. Don’t waste people’s time.”
“Oikawa, sir,” Sugawara began, but the manager held up his hand.
“We’re sticking with the same sound. It’s what the fans expect. Maybe we can discuss a change when the current contract is up.”
“That’s three albums away,” hissed Oikawa and Hajime could almost picture his face pulled into one of annoyance. The manager narrowed his eyes, a disapproving pinch in between his eyebrows.
“Tooru, you’re making a bad impression on our guest.” When the popstar didn’t respond, he turned again to Hajime, gesturing to the hallway Oikawa had dragged him down. "Come with me. Don't let Tooru’s antics distract you."
Hajime nodded. With no other choice, he turned, holding out the sheet of music to Oikawa. Whatever change Hajime had sensed was confirmed by a single look at the popstar. He was glaring at the keyboard, jaw clenched as he pointedly ignored the music sheet being held out to him. The senior Oikawa made an exasperated sound. “Don’t be childish, Tooru. You’re slowing us down.”
The muscle on Oikawa’s jaw twitched as his eyebrows scrunched together momentarily. The manager cleared his throat. Oikawa turned, his whole body twisting to Hajime. A shutter shut across his face. Instead of the excitable joy from earlier, Hajime was staring at the glittering popstar smile that had shone on every video and interview Hajime had researched. Its plastic quality made Hajime nearly drawback. It was like some kind of horror movie switch.
“Sorry, Iwa-chan. My mistake,” Oikawa sang, but the cheer didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hajime muttered a hurried response before turning, feeling the heaviness of the expression following him until he managed to make it to the manager’s office at the end of the hall. Only then did he let out his breath, an odd tightness finally loosening in his shoulders.
"I apologize for the confusion," Hajime said, sitting down in the office. Senior Oikawa sat across from him, Hajime's paperwork laid out across the desk between them. The manager waved his hand in the air as if swatting a fly.
"Don't bother worrying. They'll get over it. Honestly, it’ll do Tooru good to feel foolish for a bit. Probably save you a bit of grief. He can be so excitable for no reason. It can get a bit-" Senior Oikawa paused, searching for the correct word. "-annoying."
"Ah," Hajime said, not sure how to respond to that. Personally he had found the Oikawa who opened the door much less annoying than the interviews and late night show appearances. This Oikawa had been enthusiastic, but in a way that seemed to charge the air and pull you in. Hajime remembered the plastic expression that covered Oikawa’s face as he handed back the sheet of music. That expression was truly terrifying.
"But you’ll see that soon enough," the manager continued. "Looking over your paperwork it all seems fine to me. Perhaps the making of a model bodyguard. Even better that you aren’t star struck by my son and his antics. The last guy was stand up, but Tooru ignored him to the point of danger, we had to find a new solution."
"The point of danger?”
"Ah ah," the senior Oikawa said, wagging his finger. "Can't reveal any of those secrets until you sign this non-disclosure agreement. It says here that anything we discuss in relation to this interview and the job, if you take it, will be kept between us. Breaking this agreement could have you fired without any compensation. Pretty standard stuff. Sign here."
Hajime nodded, signing on the indicated line.
"Where was I," the manager pondered. "Oh right. You need to know that The Pretenders’ fans, especially Tooru's, can be a bit much. There's the regular things: gifts and panties on the stage, but there are also some more concerning things. Let's call it extreme fan behavior. A few wanna-be stalkers. One fan tried to take a clipping of his hair and got a bit too close for comfort. Tooru doesn’t help, of course. He thrives on the attention, but it’s your job to crush that bit. It's paramount you gain Tooru's trust. He needs to tell you about any potentially dangerous behavior. He avoided Ushijima to such an extent that we almost had a fan get too excited and tear his shirt off."
There was that tone again. Something about the way the manager spoke about his son made Hajime shift uncomfortably in his seat. He tried not to judge. He was neither a parent nor a manager. He supposed you needed to be a bit harsher in order to protect the business and wellbeing of a popular star. Still, it gave Hajime a gross feeling in his gut to hear. He wasn’t hired for feelings though, so he nodded in agreement. "Understood."
“Here’s the list of approved people for Tooru to be photographed with outside of fan events. If anyone else approaches, even if they’re famous, do your best to move them along,” the manager continued, pushing a paper towards Hajime. He took it and read through the few names quickly: Kenma Kozume, Keiji Akaashi, Kotaro Bokuto, Koshi Sugawara, Kiyoko Shimizu, band members and record company affiliates (will introduce their identification accordingly).
“This is it,” Hajime asked, turning the list over to find a blank page. The senior Oikawa hummed in agreement.
“Being a popstar isn’t just about music and talent, it’s also about an image. To preserve the image of all of our musicians the contracts include some dating and regulation of image clauses. Normally a bodyguard wouldn’t concern themselves with this, but Tooru likes to-,” he paused, again looking for words. His cold eyes flashed and Hajime felt the strange gut sinking feeling. “-be troublesome.”
He pulled out a final folder, handing it over. “This one contains the upcoming schedule and appointments for the rest of the month. We’ll be in the studio all day today so you can take the rest of the day to look through it and get yourself oriented. Consider it a rare work from home day.” He pulled a pink paper loose and placed it in front of Hajime. “Last thing I wanted to highlight: these are some of the other contractual rules Tooru should be following. Do your best to keep him in line. The last guy was pretty good at it, so I’m hoping you can do the same.”
Hajime turned his attention next to the pink paper, reading through the rules he would help enforce:
1. No dating while under the dating ban. Approved events may entail a partner of the opposite sex to attend as a “date” but this is a one night exception. These events are purely professional, as are the relationships set for the appearance.
2. No drinking, smoking, possession and use of drugs, other vices etc.
3. No mentioning or performance of taboos like body tattoos, homosexuality, acting inappropriately and speaking of dirty/swear words, or other rude behavior in public or private.
4. No speaking about politics of any kind.
5. No breaking of required calorie and nutritional intake or exercise routines and expectations. Weights are regularly checked and will be corrected as needed.
6. No breaking of professionalism in adhering to media character and personality.
7. No mistakes in stage performances. No injuries or health related issues before or during performances (live or televised). “The show must go on!”
8. No performance of any unapproved songs or musical content that has not been screened by parent company for quality and content.
9. No posting on the internet without approval of Public Relations, management, or parent company.
10. No discussion of company politics or protocol that may be interpreted as unfavorable by outsiders or fans.
“You think you can manage all this, Iwaizumi?”
"I think so, sir.”
The senior Oikawa beamed, a large grin that spread across his face but didn’t meet his eyes fully. Again the plastic look on the popstar’s face flashed before Hajime’s eyes. "Good. You're hired. Report here tomorrow at nine and- Iwaizumi?"
Hajime paused at the door. The manager smirked.
“Try not to let Tooru drive you too crazy.”
Back at his apartment, Hajime googled the people on the approved list, noting their appearances and background. He wondered briefly what it would be like to have his friends and acquaintances regulated. He remembered the Oikawa who threw open the door, grabbing Hajime’s hand and dragging him down the hall. Maybe that explained some of the rushed urgency to Oikawa’s movements and his excited twittering. How often did the spoiled brat get to meet new people outside of interviews and fan events?
Hajime shrugged. It wasn’t his concern anyway. There was a price to fame and he supposed this was one of them.