When my peers and I groaned from Mrs. GREEN APPLE winning Artist of the Year at Music Awards Japan, live from the venue, I wondered what my cousin’s dear friend would think about the situation. A few days before, on the monorail ride back home after a long day hanging out, my cousin told me about her friend, a freelance editor, about her dream to work with Mrs. GREEN APPLE one day in some capacity. Her enthusiasm about this suggested to me she’s as sincerely excited about the band as her friend was, though I did not have the heart to tell her about my feelings about the act, which is indifferent at best but annoyed most of the time. She apparently has told her friend about me over the years, about how I write about music sometimes on a professional level. It made it a bit uneasy to hate on the band at that moment when I knew of someone who was maybe more deserving to be there, or at least someone who’d be happier to see the results unfold right in front of their eyes.
But here I was, flown into Tokyo to attend the award show on assignment. When I got word of this opportunity, I reached out to my aunt again to see if we could meet up on the one free day during my three-day stay. Soon it was decided that my cousins would also join us to spend a day out in Toyosu and Odaiba, spots only a station or two away from where I was staying.
Once they all met up at my hotel, I was welcomed by the sound of my now three-year-old niece crying for the attention of her mom (my cousin). The baby girl was cranky from just being woken up, nagging to ride her mom’s back even as my cousin had to push the stroller with my niece’s newborn little brother in tow. It was my first time meeting the new baby boy. My cousin had broken the news to me that she was pregnant with him when I visited her last summer, when I met my niece for the first time, and she had just given birth to him only about three months prior. He was so peaceful in comparison, sleeping soundly while his bigger sister begged for one more piggyback ride.
Once my niece saw the vending machine at the metro station, it was game over: she was crying for ice cream until we all convinced her she’d get to eat a better one once we got to Toyosu. My aunt told me about the fish marketplace there before I got to Japan, where fishermen sell and barter their latest catch, but we instead visited the nearby eateries for lunch. The immediate mission, though, was searching for ice cream to soothe our child’s craving, and we soon found a cafe selling fancy soft-served and shaved ice. I’m not gonna lie, that Seventeen Ice Cream vending machine made me crave some, too, and so I got a matcha soft-served for myself while I bought a vanilla one for the girl.
From the eateries, I got an eel skewer as well as a bottle of locally brewed IPA while my cousins got other skewers of their own. Japan is full of these strips of food stands, where you can sip cold beer while gander at every stop whose menu seems to serve some delicious delicacy you’re bound to like. As appealing as it is as an idea, it might not be so geared for someone like me who is not the impulsive type, and who needs to look at every option available on the strip before making a final decision. I kind of fumbled my experience last summer over at Kamakura’s Komachidoori, settling for a curry pan out of all things, but here in Toyosu, I think I fared a little better with my skewer.
We hopped back on the Yurikamome monorail line to now head to Odaiba. My aunt and my cousin sat at the front of the train: the monorail is automated and so you can get a clear view from the front seat window as though you’re the conductor yourself. My other cousin, the mother of two, and I chatted a little about idols. We talked a lot about Nogizaka46 when the two of us hung out in Tokyo three years ago, and now it seems she has started to also get into FRUITS ZIPPER. Thanks to Crayon Shinchan, my niece has also got a liking for the group and their song, “Hacha Mecha Life,” for the anime. This is her attempt to get her into the otaku way like her mother, my cousin said to me.
Last year, when I first met her, my niece was obsessed with Anpanman. That has begun to slowly fade, her mother sadly told me, and she has started to like more colorful characters like, say, the magical girls from Precure. The change showed when we were walking around Toyosu and the baby stumbled upon a menu of bright blue and pink drinks. “That’s medicine, you won’t like it,” her mother told her about the drinks, which turned out to be chu-hi—clearly not a beverage for children. But she thinks this association with bright magical-girl colors also partly drew my niece into the idols of FRUITS ZIPPER: the baby recognizes Karen Mastumoto, she says, thanks to her frilly pink outfit even when the idol isn’t singing.
Once we got to Odaiba, we immediately came across the famed sights: the Fuji TV building and the view overlooking the Rainbow Bridge. We stopped by the Aqua City mall for a real meal. I made the choice for ramen; I wished I chose a different kind, but it did the job. Per my cousin’s tip, we stopped by Aqua City’s Retro Museum, a floor that recreated a Showa feeling through its throwback booths and arcades. While walking the floor, the adults detected a danger zone, a shop full of character goods that our baby girl would nag and cry to buy. Ever the stealthy one, her mother encouraged the baby to run and chase her to the other side towards the elevator, successfully sprinting past the goods without her even knowing of its existence.
Our last stop in Odaiba was the Diver City mall. We snapped photos of the Gundam statue on the way there. But we didn’t spend much time there, relaxing at the food court to take a breather but not without buying my niece more ice cream. More and more people, though, came in with a Tower Records bag. Sensing some idol wota activity afoot, I had to investigate the Tower booth to figure out what it was all about. Though I couldn’t gather any direct info, I caught a glimpse of music from a K-pop boy group playing out the speakers. It turns out 82MAJOR was scheduled to play a release event later that evening, which all made sense of the couple of friend groups unboxing multiple physical copies of the FEELM mini album.
Everyone seemed drained, and so it was time for us to go. My other cousin took the opposite train on the Yurikamome for his route home while the rest of us headed back to the hotel. On the way back was when my cousin, the mother of two, shared with me about her friend, the Mrs. GREEN APPLE fan. I have yet to tell her about my thoughts on the rock trio, though I certainly let my feelings about FRUITS ZIPPER known to her when I spotted two of its members in public at the gala I attended the night after.
At the hotel parking lot, I gave my aunt and my cousins each gifts from my family. We chilled at the lot for a minute before taking off. My niece acted all shy the whole time in Toyosu and Odaiba, but she must have sensed we are saying goodbye very soon. This is only the second time we’ve met, from almost a year since our first, but it’s nice that she remembered me in some way: her mother said she refers to me as “her friend” since she doesn’t understand the concept of cousins just yet. Both my aunt and my cousin said we’ll see each other soon with confidence, joking that it might even be sooner than next year, given the rate that I’ve been back in Japan. Though I didn’t make any promises, I really hope that to be the case.
A few nights later, on an exhausting walk home from the Music Awards Japan, I received a LINE from my aunt telling me that she, too, was watching the ceremony. We talk about how amazing HANA performed and how fulfilling it was to see M!LK live. She then sends me a video: my niece singing and dancing to FRUITS ZIPPER’s “Hacha Mecha Life” as her mother sings along with her. Baby girl can make out about half the actual lyrics—she’s three-years-old after all—but that’s more than enough from the viewer’s end.
A day later, I land in San Francisco Airport after a nine-hour flight from Tokyo. I get scolded from an officer for not paying attention to her open booth as I go through immigration before I go pick up my luggage. I was unfortunately back in the U.S., and I certainly felt it. All I wanted to do as I shuffled to baggage claim was escape to idol music as I always do, and I’m sure you know what was the first idol song I put on to take me to a better place.
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