Watching a Shooting Star

by Raye Johnsen

"Full Moon wo Sagashite" (Searching for the Full Moon) is copyright the Original Author and associated parties, none of which are myself.

I stand back and watch as Mitsuki-chan is singing. Under the lights, her hair is even brighter and her porcelain skin is even paler. Her voice is that of an angel, pure and clear. It's hard to believe she's a human, and not some ethereal being.

I was charmed when she chose 'Full Moon' for her stage name, like everyone else, but now, watching her, I'm not sure that she chose the right one. Perhaps 'Shooting Star' would have been more appropriate. Watching her, I am struck by a sense of impermanence. Remember, some little voice is whispering in my soul. Never forget this moment, for it will never come again....

I'm being silly, of course. As a fallen idol myself, I know only too well how fragile idols can be. I failed; I know how easy it is to fail. As a manager, I've learned how hard it is to get an idol to the top and I've learned how hard it is to keep her there. This moment, the debut of a young idol who has what it takes to make it to the top, is a rare moment, one to be savoured and appreciated. This is Full Moon's debut and it will never come again, and a part of me is reacting to that. That must be it.

That must be why my heart is wrapping this song around itself, a song of love lost yet faithful, hopeful yet honest. She called it 'Myself', yet it reaches into the heart of everyone who has ever said "Goodbye" to a lover. A part of me can't believe she wrote it herself - she's far too innocent. And then I look into her eyes, and I can believe it all too easily.

I only met her four weeks ago, and already I feel as if I have known her all my life. She's both innocent and wise, and I don't know why.

I suspect she has had a serious illness - that might account for it. She has the kind of wisdom those who have been close to death display, and the innocent enjoyment in living that children and those who've learnt to treasure Life show. And her guardian is a doctor - how else would a child and a busy, unrelated professional adult get to know each other?

My cheeks heat as I remember. That afternoon was so confusing, but I still feel embarrassed as I remember how I realized that Dr. Wakaouji was Wakaouji-kun, the pop idol of my youth and the Prince Charming in all my teenaged dreams, and badgered an autograph out of him. It must be over ten years since his band broke up, and his ward's manager is still a fangirl.

Still... I'm glad I did it. It's as if a part of myself is now satisfied. The teenage crush has been completed and is now laid to rest.

Mitsuki is singing the final verse, and I can feel the mood of the crowd. Their hearts are soothed by her rich voice, their souls enfolded in her lyrics. She's managed to touch them, and they in turn will embrace her.

And yet... and yet... something about her whispers to me of impermanence. Of sand falling in an hourglass. Of a flash of lightning that's gone almost before it's seen.

Mr. Takasu looks at me as the song closes, and congratulates me as I congratulate him. Looking into his eyes, I see no sign of this forboding that grips me. I must be wrong. But still, I can't shake of this feeling, of watching a shooting star fall across the sky - delicate, desperate, beautiful... and gone long before its time.