Legacy

"You have a boyfriend?"
"What's his name?"
"What's he like?"
"Is he hot?"
"One at a time guys, geez," I said, taking a sip of my daiquiri. I was out with Jenn and Vicki, at the usual place. It was the first time we'd seen each other for a while. Our weekly outings had been growing further apart lately, since Vicki had gotten a new job and Jenn and Kayla had some sort of falling out, which explained why she wasn't with us. And I had been spending all my free time with Hide.
"Remember that guy with the pink hair we saw in here a while ago?" I asked.
"Oh, the gay one?" asked Jenn.
"Well," I said, turning to her. "Turns out he's not gay after all, even with pink hair."
"You're dating him?" Jenn scooted her chair a little closer to me. "Oh my god, you have to tell me everything!"
"Haven't you had bad luck with men you've met in bars?" Vicki asked.
"He's totally different from them," I said. "He's very sweet, and funny, and really cute. And, unlike those other guys, he actually has a job, a good one, and he's not a creeper or anything."
"What's his name?"
"Hide."
"Hide?" Jenn wrinkled her nose. "Where the hell is he from, with a name like that?"
"Japan."
"A Japanese guy, huh? Is it true what they say about Asian men?" Vicki laughed.
I felt my face flush a little in annoyance. "I wouldn't know...and don't you think you better lay off the French fries? You're already getting chubby."
Vicki's hand froze in the middle of reaching for a fry. She frowned and pulled her hand back, pulling on the bottom of her shirt.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Jenn asked. "You guys haven't done it yet?"
"No," I said, my body already starting to grow warm at the thought. "We've only been seeing each other for like, a month, and I haven't seen that much of him because he's busy with work."
"What does he do?"
"He's a rock star," I said, smiling. Revealing that your boyfriend was a rock star was always a great feeling, especially because of the reactions people gave you.
"No way!" Jenn squealed. "That is so cool! What band is he in?"
"He's in two, actually. A guitarist in one and a vocalist in the other. But you've never heard of them. He's famous in Japan, but no one knows who he is here."
"Is he any good?" Vicki asked.
"He's better than good," I answered, a little defensively. "He's amazing. I've heard his stuff and it's some of the greatest music I've ever heard."
"What's he look like? Do you have a picture?"
"He looks like an Asian guy, they all look the same," Vicki said.
"Vicki, shut up," I said scathingly.
"What?" she asked, looking surprised.
"Can you just shut up with the racist comments, please? It's rude."
"Since when did jokes like that make you angry? You used to say shit like that all the time."
It was true, but she didn't have to say it. "Well, I've learned now that that was wrong. And so I'd appreciate it if you kept them to yourself."
"Here we go," Jenn said, taking a swig of her drink.
I turned towards her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"The new boyfriend is changing you already. He's perfect in your eyes, and anything said against him is the gravest insult," Jenn rolled her eyes. "Just remember that when he breaks your heart."
I stood up angrily. "Well, I thought you'd be happy for me, since you're supposed to be my friends-"
"We are happy for you," Jenn interrupted. "And we are your friends, but not when you start snapping at every little thing we say."
"Well fine," I said. I grabbed my jacket and threw some money on the table to pay for my drink. "If you don't want me here, then I'll leave."
"Amanda, that's not-"Vicki started to say, but I had already started walking towards the door. I saw her give Jenn a meaningful look out of the corner of my eye, which made me even angrier. I tore the door open and stomped out into the night.

When I got home, I noticed the red light flashing on the answering machine Hide had insisted on buying for me. He had grown tired of waiting for me to pick up every time he called, which was at least once a day. I pushed the "play" button and Hide's voice came out of the speaker.
"Hey, I guess you're out somewhere, so call me when you get back, okay? Ja ne."
I eagerly picked up the phone and dialed his number, sliding off my shoes and sitting up on the counter while waiting for him to pick up.
"Hello, my Ama-chan," Hide said.
"How did you know it was me?" I asked, smiling. I loved my new name. It was too cute.
"Just my amazing Japanese intuition."
I laughed. "How was work today?"
Hide sighed. "Very busy. I had a photoshoot today for the new tour book. Why they couldn't wait until I got back to Japan I don't know, but whatever."
My smile faded. The tour book reminded me that he was due back in Japan soon. I had tried not to think about it too much. "Do you know when you're leaving yet?"
"Actually, I do. Next Wednesday morning." Six more days. "And I'll be really busy until then making sure things won't fall apart over here without me."
"I was hoping I'd get to see you again before you left," I said gloomily. I knew I was whining a little, but I didn't really care.
"Oh, you will," Hide said. "I'll make sure we get to spend some time together before I go. I'll be gone for at least 3 months, you know."
"I know, don't remind me. I'll really miss you."
"Oh come on, I sent you 'Mugongeki'. That should tide you over, shouldn't it?"
I thought of the photobook Hide had sent me, which was currently residing on my bedside table so I could look at it every night before I went to sleep. "Though those pictures are gorgeous, they're not as good as seeing you. Plus, you don't wear makeup and clothes like that on a daily basis, so it'll be a false impression of the real you."
"True...well, I have tomorrow morning free. Want to get breakfast?"
"I'd love to. And you can tell me what the hell those poems say."
"I'll try. They'll probably sound really stupid in English, but I'll try."
"Okay. And I'm driving tomorrow, since you came to pick me up last time we went out."
"Deal. I'm exhausted, I need to get some sleep. You go to bed too, it's late."
"Yes, Father," I laughed. "Good night."
"Oyasumi, Ama-chan."

*****

It had taken us the rest of the week to completely clean out the apartment of Hide and my possessions. The furniture and appliances we had left for the landlord to deal with. That week had not been easy; many more tears had been shed, and it had been physically painful to collect all of Hide's stuff. In the end, I couldn't make the decision with what to keep and what to throw away, so we had taken all of it, packed it away in boxes and put it into one of Yoshiki's spare rooms. What we would do with it from there I didn't know.
One day, Yoshiki had the answer. We would send it all to Japan so they could put it into a Hide museum.
"What?" I say, looking up from the glass of water I was filling in the kitchen sink.
"Hide's record label wants to make a museum dedicated to him. They've already asked Haruka for her permission and she's consented. They'll need his belongings to put in there, so-"
"Wait a minute." I still think I'm not hearing things right. "They want to make a Hide museum?"
"Yes, that's what I just said." Yoshiki sounds slightly irritated with my lack of understanding.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Why the hell would they do that?"
"So people can remember him. It's a kind of memorial. Also, people who didn't know about him can learn about all his music and appreciate him for the genius he was."
"Goddammit, can't they just let him be dead!?" I shouted, slamming the glass down on the counter so water spilled out over the edge and splashed onto the counter. "Can't he rest in peace!?"
This was disgusting. A few days ago Haruka had called us and told us how there were still television specials honoring Hide, and how sales at his shop in Harajuku and for his albums had never been better. And now they were going to build a museum and charge people who knows how much to get in and walk among his personal belongings, buying crappy, overpriced souvenirs? Hide was three months dead, and the record label was still cashing in.
Yoshiki sighs. "Ama-chan-"
I slap my hand down on the counter, cutting him off. "Don't...you ever...call me that again," I say slowly, my voice dripping ice.
"Amanda," Yoshiki continues, correcting himself. "This is a good thing."
"It isn't. They're profiting on his death! He's more useful to them dead than he was alive!"
"Well, it's been decided, so there's nothing you can do about it anyway. The only thing we can do is cooperate. It's not like we're using his things, they're just taking up space. And I doubt they'll want absolutely everything, anyway, so we can still keep some things."
I make a disgusted noise and down the glass of water.
"Even if you do disapprove, it's not like you can confront anyone about it. You don't exist, remember?"
This was true. Hide had tried so hard to hide my existence from the Japanese media, for my own protection. It'd be stupid to reveal myself now, especially since everyone was still obsessed with him over there.
"Fine," I say, though it couldn't be less fine. "But I'm not helping you."

I was true to my word. I didn't help Yoshiki at all with unpacking and organizing Hide's belongings to send to Japan. Not that he needed my help. He was on the phone constantly with Haruka and Hiroshi, comparing what they were contributing and making lists of what they each had. He also was in contact with the people in charge of creating the museum, contributing his own ideas to the project, a fact that confused and slightly sickened me. You would think that he'd be upset with the obvious exploitation of his dead best friend. But he seemed almost excited about it.

"Amanda, I need your help with something."
"That's nice. I'm trying to read." I don't look up from the baby book I finally made myself go and buy.
Yoshiki reaches over and pulls down the book away from my face so I have to look at him. "Do you know where Hide's 'Electric Cucumber' costume is?"
"What for?"
"The museum wants a costume from every video he ever made, and we have all of them except for that one. Did he keep it?"
"Yes, he kept it."
"Where is it?"
"I told you I'm not helping you."
"Come on, Amanda. You've had weeks to get used to this, and I haven't asked you for your help in one single aspect of it. I'm not asking you to get it, I'm just asking you if you know where it is. You can at least answer my question." Yoshiki folds his arms impatiently.
I sigh in defeat. "Fine. Yes, I know where it is. But I'll have to go get it, because it's in the 'Love Box'."
Yoshiki looks puzzled. "Why is it in there?"
"Yoshiki, that whole song is about kinky sex. Do you really think that he wouldn't use that leather outfit for something other than shooting a video?"
"Actually, I'd rather not think about it."
I stand up. "I'll go get it. But this is the only help I'm giving you. I still hate this museum shit."
I walk up the stairs and into the spare room. Boxes are open and strewn around, the result of Yoshiki finding and sending out things as they were asked for by the museum. One of the few that was untouched was the 'Love Box'.
I move the box that's on top and kneel down to open the 'Love Box'. The costume is right on top, next to the one I sometimes wore. I lift it out and put it on my lap to look at it. The leather glistens in the light and my fingers slip easily over the surface. Damn, he looked so sexy in this. All this shiny leather clinging tightly to his thin frame...he would have barely put it on before I was ripping it off of him again.
I clutch the outfit to me as a pulse of pain hits my chest. All the memories and emotion I have that's connected with these clothes, and they're destined to be put on a mannequin in a glass case forevermore. The people looking at them will have no idea of the stories behind them. It wasn't right. I couldn't give these up.
Deciding, I put the clothes back in the box and close it. I'll have to buy a lock for it, because I can guarantee that Yoshiki will brave the "Love Box" to come and get them once he finds out I'm not giving them up.
"Yoshiki," I call as I come back down the stairs. "I'm not giving them to you. That costume is mine, and that's final. I don't want to talk about it again."
Yoshiki's about to protest, but I walk right past him and shut the door to the living room in his face, getting back to my book.
Later I find out that they had a replica of the costume made for the museum. I didn't care, at least I had the original.