9 Strawberry Skies

The days following the offer from Strawberry Productions passed in a whirlwind of activity. Meetings, negotiations, and a mountain of paperwork consumed my waking hours. It was exhilarating, overwhelming, and more than a little surreal.

I sat in President Ichigo's office, the sleek lines and minimalist decor a stark contrast to the warmth of Ai's apartment. Spread before me was a contract, the black ink stark against the crisp white pages.

"Take your time," Ichigo said, his voice even. "This is a big decision."

As I pored over the contract, certain clauses jumped out at me. The financial terms were laid out in black and white, a roadmap of my potential earnings.

Strawberry Productions would take a 20% cut of my profits, a figure that initially made me balk. But as I read on, I realized the trade-off. In return for that percentage, they would handle all the distribution, marketing, and promotion of my music.

But the real kicker was the ownership clause. Unlike many new artists, who often signed away the rights to their own creations, I would retain full ownership of my masters. Every song I wrote, every melody I crafted, would remain mine.

It was a huge win, one that Miyako had fought tooth and nail for on my behalf. "Owning your masters gives you control over your art," she'd explained during one of our many phone calls. "It means you decide how your music is used, now and in the future. It's a rare thing for a new signee, but Ichigo and I believe in you, Akira. We want you to have that autonomy."

I felt a swell of gratitude as I read through the clause again. Strawberry Productions wasn't just offering me a chance - they were investing in me as an artist, as a creator.

The royalty breakdown was another pleasant surprise. For every album sold, every stream counted, I would receive a percentage. It started small, but there were built-in escalators. The more successful I became, the higher my cut would be.

I glanced up at Ichigo, who was watching me with a steady gaze. "This is a generous offer," I said, tapping the page. "The masters, the royalties... it's more than I expected."

Ichigo leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. "We believe in you, Akira. Not just in your talent, but in your integrity as an artist. We want to give you the tools to succeed, on your own terms."

I closed my eyes, the decision crystallizing in my mind. Opening them, I reached for the pen, the weight of it significant in my hand.

"Before you sign," Ichigo said, leaning forward slightly, "there's one more thing we need to discuss."

I looked up, curious.

"We have a group," he continued, "that's on the verge of disbanding. Their lead singer went solo a while ago, and they're struggling to find their footing. We're prepared to offer them a new deal... if you agree to lead the group."

I blinked. Lead a group? The idea had never crossed my mind. My dreams had always been solo, my vision singular.

But I thought of the greats, the artists who had started their journeys in groups before striking out on their own. Steve Lacy, Beyoncé, Lauryn Hill, Justin Timberlake... even the King of Pop himself, Michael Jackson. They had started in a group before claiming their individual spotlights.

If it was good enough for them, who was I to turn my nose up at the opportunity?

"What do you say, Akira?" Ichigo prompted, his gaze steady on mine.

I looked down at the contract, at the blank line awaiting my signature. Then I thought of Ai, of Aqua and Ruby.

With them in my corner, I felt like I could take on anything. Even the daunting world of idol stardom.

I met Ichigo's eyes, a grin spreading across my face. "I'm in," I said, the words ringing with certainty. "Now, let's make some music."

[Ai's POV]

I flipped open the script to a random page, my eyes scanning the lines. My character, Miki, was a lively, supportive friend to the protagonist. Her dialogue was peppered with encouragement and gentle teasing.

I cleared my throat, straightening my posture. "Aya-chan, you're overthinking it!" I read aloud, trying to infuse my voice with Miki's signature pep. "Just tell him how you feel! What's the worst that could happen?"

I paused, frowning slightly. The words were right, but the delivery felt off. Too stiff, too forced. I needed to find Miki's essence, the core of her character.

I tried again, this time with a lighter tone. "Aya-chan, you're overthinking it! Just tell him how you feel! What's the worst that could happen?" I followed it with a laugh, but it sounded hollow to my ears.

Frustration bubbled up inside me. Why was this so hard? On stage, slipping into a persona was second nature. But here, alone in my apartment, I felt like I was grasping at straws.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Think of it like a performance," I murmured to myself. "You're on stage, the cameras are your audience. Miki is just another role to play."

With that thought in mind, I let myself slip into my idol mindset. I pictured the bright lights, the cheering crowd. I felt the energy thrumming through my veins, the thrill of being in the spotlight.

I opened my eyes, looking down at the script with new determination. "Aya-chan," I read, my voice bubbling with Miki's signature enthusiasm, "you're overthinking it! Just tell him how you feel! What's the worst that could happen?"

This time, the laugh that followed felt natural, genuine. I could picture Miki's face, the way her eyes would sparkle with mischief and warmth.

I continued reading, letting Miki's words flow through me. "Trust me, I've seen the way he looks at you. He's totally into you! You just need to take the plunge!"

As I spoke, I could feel Miki coming to life. Her optimism, her fierce loyalty, her unshakeable belief in love... it was all there, woven into every syllable.

For the next few hours, I lost myself in the script. I laughed, I cried, I poured my heart into every line. By the time I reached the final page, I was breathless, exhilarated.

I had done it. I had found Miki's voice, had made her a part of me.

It was a small victory, but a significant one. If I could bring this much truth, this much authenticity to a supporting role, imagine what I could do with a lead.

ThatThe thought sent a thrill down my spine. This drama was just the beginning, a stepping stone to bigger and better things.

I glanced at the clock, surprised to see how late it was. I needed to get some rest, to be fresh and ready for tomorrow's rehearsal. But before that…

[Akira's POV]

The sun was setting as I stepped out of step by the time one song at a time at a time Ichigo's office, the contract signed and my future set in motion. The world looked different somehow, the colors brighter, the sounds sharper.

Was this what it felt like to take a leap of faith? To put your trust in something bigger than yourself?

As I walked, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, Ai's name flashing on the screen.

"Hey," I answered, a smile already tugging at my lips.

"Hey yourself," she said, her voice warm even through the tinny speaker. "How did it go?"

I took a deep breath, the magnitude of the day settling on my shoulders. "I did it," I said softly. "I signed the contract. I'm officially a part of Strawberry Productions."

There was a beat of silence, then a whoosh of air as Ai exhaled. "Akira, that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."

Those simple words, the genuine joy and belief behind them, brought a lump to my throat. "Thanks, Ai. That means a lot."

"So, what's next for Akira the superstar?" she teased, a playful lilt to her voice.

I laughed, the sound breaking free from my chest. "Well, apparently I'm going to be leading a group. One that's on the brink of disbanding."

"A group?" Ai sounded surprised. "Wow, that's... that's huge."

"It is," I agreed, the weight of it still sinking in. "But I think it could be good. A chance to reach more people, to make a bigger impact."

"You're going to be amazing," Ai said, the certainty in her voice unwavering. "Those boys won't know what hit them."

I grinned, my steps feeling lighter. "I hope you're right."

There was a muffled sound on the other end of the line, like Ai was shifting the phone. "Listen, I've got an early call time tomorrow for the drama. But how about we celebrate this weekend? You, me, and the kids."

"Sounds good." 

"Great." There was a smile in Ai's voice. "Get some rest, superstar. You've got a big day tomorrow."

We said our goodbyes, the promise of the weekend hanging sweetly in the air between us. As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, I took a moment to just breathe.

I paused at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Around me, the city thrummed with life. Salarymen hurrying home from work, teenagers laughing and jostling each other, couples strolling hand in hand.

Each of them had a story, a dream, a hope for the future. Just like me. Just like Ai.

The light turned green, and I stepped forward, letting the crowd carry me along.

I thought of what lay ahead, the challenges and triumphs that surely awaited. The long hours in the studio, the grueling rehearsals, the pressure of the spotlight.

But I also thought of the joy, the exhilaration of doing what I loved. Of sharing my music with the world, of touching hearts and souls with my voice.

It was a trade-off, one I was more than willing to make. Because this wasn't just a job, it wasn't just a path to fame and fortune.

It was a calling, a purpose. A chance to make a difference, to leave my mark on the world.

The future was uncertain, but it was also bright. Brighter than it had ever been.

And I was ready to embrace it, to chase my dreams with everything I had.

One step at a time. One song at a time.

Into my new life as an idol, and whatever lay beyond.

End of Volume 1

Valentine here!

Haaaa~ first volume done. I feel like I rushed the romance a little, but as far as my first time writing, I think I did good! If you have any suggestions for songs you want Akira to use, or the group to perform, leave them in the comments!