The West gathered in their orchestra room very early in the morning for one last practice. They made sure that none of them made a single mistake in their theme songs and were surprised themselves when some of the theme songs they practiced came out pretty perfect without any flaw at all. After the practice, Mickey the conductor was very pleased indeed.
“Well, my friends, I guess we have actually done a great job in this practice. Remember, we have to do our best on stage if we ever want to win the ratings that we deserve from the humans in the reality world. I heard many are coming to watch us tonight and will be the judge.”
“I thought you didn’t care about the ratings,” Donald Duck said slyly in his duckish squawk.
“Heh heh,” Mickey scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, so far we have been practicing very, very hard, and I shudder to think that our efforts would be wasted and have the humans favour the animes. So…”
“We get the drift, Mickey,” Shaggy said as he sat, as usual, with Scooby sharing a long sandwich. “Like, we wouldn’t want to let those chinks get in the way of being the most liked cartoons by our fellow humans.”
“Uh-uh, no way!” Scooby agreed with his mouth full of food.
“What if they don’t like us?” Courage the Cowardly Dog, the worried wart, whimpered. “What if those animes really are good and the kids don’t like us? What’ll we do? What’ll we do?”
“Stupid dog! You’re worrying over nothing! Of course we’ll win!” Eustace scowled and would’ve hit his guitar on Courage’s head if it weren’t for his wife Murielle who stopped him.
“He is right,” Cow said worriedly as she squeezed Chicken’s shoulder. “What if they don’t like us? What if we don’t play good, Chicken? Would it be the end of us, Big Brother?”
“That’s why we have to give our best performance to them and show them what we’re made of. There is no way we’re gonna give up our ratings to a 3rd class animation like them!” Clover replied vainly.
“OK then, my friends. Let’s do another practice and let’s break a leg on stage later!” Mickey said as he tapped the board with his conducting stick enthusiastically.
Soon the orchestra room was filled with their music.
Everyone of the East sat at their places, staring at their instruments blandly without moving an inch. They seemed pretty tense and testy. None of them were willing to pick up their instruments and practice for the last time. Hakkai, the ever high-hoped and cheerful git, noticed immediately and tapped the board with his conducting stick.
“Come on, people, get a move on! Dozo, dozo!”
No one attempted to move. Hakkai brought a chair to sit down and folded his arms.
“Alright, guys. What seems to be the problem?”
“I think we’re going out on a suicidal mission,” Luffy, the ever energetic rubber boy, looked worried and uneasy for the first time.
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve heard rumours about the judging. If we lose, we will cease to exist,” Sailor Moon said with a glum on her face as she let herself be in the arms of her darling Mamoru and Luna on her lap.
“Annou…if we actually lose, the ratings and credit will all go to the West, and we will soon be forgotten,” Kyoko (Jigoku Sensei Nube) said, fearing for the worst. “And if we are forgotten, our lives will be gone. We will cease to exist. We will disappear into thin air and never be able to live again.”
“I don’t want to disappear! I haven’t have time to be with Haroko!!!” Sakuragi ranted in the background, but was surprised that Akagi didn’t aim a punch on his head. Rukawa looked at him coldly, but was unable to hide his worry about disappearing from the face of the earth.
“Matte, matte! Choto matte, everyone,” Hakkai tried to calm his fellow colleagues down and brighten up their spirits. “Just because of one rumour, you turn into soggy ramen? Come on, guys. This is not like you. These few days you were playing pretty good, and you guys are really making progress. You’re not giving up, are you?”
“We wish we could share your optimism and all,” Kindaichi said unenthusiastically, “but you don’t get much of a courage when you hear things about dying and ceasing to exist, never to return to bring joy and laughter to the humans.”
“Well, if you guys give up now and not wanting to show up for the orchestra performance, we would cease to exist just the same, because we are going to considered as ‘chickens’ by the humans,” Hakkai replied calmly.
“Yes, but…” Ranma tried to reply, but couldn’t. He was pretty upset about the whole thing.
“Besides, if you don’t try, how would you know that we will not be liked by the humans? How would we know that our songs are better than the West or vice versa? Our songs are much popular than the West—just look at those humans downloading our songs from the internet rather than the West’s. What do we have to lose? If we don’t try, we might as well be dead, right here, right now.”
“Well, you got a point there,” someone from Vandread replied sheepishly.
“We have to be out there to know if we are worthy of all the ratings from our fellow humans,” Hakkai replied as he got off his seat and reached for the conducting stick. “Remember, we may not know what will the future brings, but we can change it for the better and for our advantage.”
“Well, what are you bakas waiting for?” Sanzo threw away his cigarette and picked up his Chinese guitar. “Let’s get started before Hakkai here talks until the end of time.”
Everyone finally picked up their instruments and prepared to start their practice. They seemed pretty upbeat now that Hakkai had given them reassurance and a little bit of confidence.
“It is the fight for our lives and for our existence,” Hakkai tapped his stick and raised it above his head. “Ganbatte, everyone!”
Soon, their orchestra room, too, filled with music.
As time passed by, the clock struck, signaling dinner time. Misbun stared out of his office window and he could see, at the Great Music Hall where the competition will be held, stood quite a number of humans waiting outside the gates long before it was time to open and let them in. Misbun smiled and drew the curtains.
“It is time.”
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