Shedding (5): How to Reconcile with People. Coincidentally.
Iris had zero experience in this sort of thing. No one had the guts to pick a fight in front of her, the queen at the top of the school caste. If anyone ever got angry, it was always just Iris unilaterally venting her frustrations. And the fight she'd witnessed today wasn't some ordinary spat—it was a lovers' quarrel disguised as a messy emotional brawl. Ayane had already swung that fire extinguisher like she was ready to kill. Iris's conclusion: ordinary methods wouldn't cut it for reconciling these three.
"This is tough."
Shin Tae-il always dumped the hardest tasks on her. With a world overflowing with fun content to enjoy, why did he have to serve up this kind of nonsense? She was starting to resent him for it.
First, separate them.
The emergency measure Iris scraped together was to scatter the three troublemakers apart. Luckily, the communal lounge was spacious enough for a few classes, complete with cafe-style partitions everywhere. She used them to ensure they couldn't see each other, then assigned guards: Kiriko for Ayane, Rena for Sakuya, and Iris herself for Tae-il.
"Phew."
Drenched in sweat, Iris sank deep into the sofa, and Tae-il comforted her.
"You must be exhausted..."
"Thanks to certain people."
"S-Sorry..."
Indecisiveness could be a sin when taken too far. Iris shot him a sharp glare, and Tae-il shrank back like a guilty criminal.
"Must be nice being so popular with the pretty girls, huh?"
"H-Haha..."
Neither denial nor acceptance—Tae-il just gave an awkward laugh. He scratched his sticky palm with his thumb and asked,
"Has something like this ever happened to you, Arisugawa?"
"As if."
Iris waved him off like he was talking nonsense. She'd rejected confessions from men, women, young, old—everyone—with ruthless precision. Someone fighting over her? It might look thrilling to outsiders, but to Iris, it was just a pathetic village farce.
"Well, I've seen girls marking their territory like 'I called dibs, so hands off' a few times..."
But that was just them staking empty claims without the courage to confess. Back then, Iris hadn't understood those types who spat saliva without committing.
"Sometimes, maybe it's better to just mark and wait."
Better than Ayane grabbing a fire extinguisher for a show of force. That scene was still dizzyingly intense; Iris sighed and rubbed her throbbing head.
"Seriously lucky this didn't happen at school."
"Yeah."
If it had, rumors would've spread like wildfire across campus. Regardless of Ayane's character, the morals committee had always been the student council's vanguard. In Yuuma High, where clubs thrived, they weren't outright enemies, but plenty of people resented them.
"Public opinion on Ayane definitely wouldn't have been kind."
"I know."
Tae-il nodded, hiding his pained grimace. Sure, Sakuya had joked about the "four heavenly kings of pretty freshman girls," but among their peers, only Iris could match her popularity and fame. The school would side with Sakuya over Ayane if push came to shove.
Iris smirked at Tae-il's distressed face.
"Well, if it's a real messy love tangle, the biggest villain ends up being you, Shin Tae-il."
"I really have nothing to say..."
The true culprit buried his face in his hands. Tae-il thought the same. Ayane might take the formal punishment, but he'd be the one pointed at in the end.
"Might as well sort this traffic jam out quick."
"Traffic jam?"
Tae-il rubbed his dry face, his exhausted eyes meeting Iris's. While he was mentally and physically drained, she lounged leisurely, leg crossed, elbow propped, chin resting on her hand.
"First off."
Her ruby eyes blinked slowly, and she nodded lightly toward the others.
"I'm not against band members dating."
Iris had crushed countless confessions, but that didn't mean she had no longing for romance. She was in the bloom of youth too. Once, she'd dreamed of the fresh, passionate love from romance novels. Even after her father Zenjiro stole her future, that dream lingered. Listening to BARD's love songs, she'd imagined a faceless prince on a white horse whisking her away for a romantic elopement.
Yeah, probably impossible.
Iris smiled bitterly. Even making it major, she couldn't escape her father's grip. Unless she hit national fame with a major band, Zenjiro would never approve. Hiding her bitter heart, she flashed a bright smile.
"Dating experience helps composition, right? No matter what anyone says."
Human history spanned over 5,000 years, and love remained the top song theme then and now. Not just songs—literature, art, religion. Love permeated everywhere. Without it, humanity wouldn't have lasted. Love always sold. People's loves varied wildly: unique ones entertained, familiar ones resonated. Even Iris, who'd never loved, was captivated by its addictiveness.
"You're our band's composer, Shin Tae-il. The core position."
Even major bands crumbled without their composer. The songs defined their identity. Lose others, but keep the composer or vocalist, and the band endured.
So.
"As long as you don't do anything weird from falling too hard, I'll support and cheer you on to the end."
"Just to check... what do you mean by 'weird,' Arisugawa?"
"Sex crimes?"
"As if I'd..."
"Or neglecting the band 'cause you're too lovesick?"
"Haha."
Believe it or not—that was the least likely for Tae-il.
"So, what're you gonna do, Shin Tae-il?"
"Dunno."
At Iris's urging, Tae-il furrowed his brow. Closing his eyes, he saw the two girls: Ayane's teary eyes on the verge of sobs, Sakuya's shameless skinship that burned his face. He couldn't give up either.
I need both of them.
Not rationally—as friends and bandmates, he couldn't lose them.
"Arisugawa."
Tae-il's voice was more serious than ever. Iris blurted desperately,
"W-Wait! I have a super bad feeling about this. No...?"
Unlike his steady gaze, her voice and eyes trembled. A bomb dropped from Tae-il's mouth. Her usually off intuition screamed danger.
Band success was still her top priority. She'd feigned nonchalance, but she'd meddle in his love life if needed. Cautiously, she asked again,
"Y-You're saying this after careful thought, right?"
"Yeah."
Tae-il opened his mouth.
"Um, you okay?"
"..."
No reply from Ayane. Kiriko scratched her head awkwardly; she'd been saddled with Ayane without proper explanation from Iris.
Kiriko's distress didn't faze Ayane, who kept her face buried between her knees in silence.
"Kiriko-san..."
"Y-Yes!"
"Have you ever liked someone?"
"Why wouldn't I have?"
Kiriko puffed up as the elder, bluffing. Zero dating experience, but a decade of "love lectures" made her an honorary love PhD.
Ayane finally lifted her head slowly. Seeing her bloodshot eyes, Kiriko sighed softly and sat beside her. Close the distance first.
"Is it about your childhood friend?"
"Shin-nii..."
Her voice grew misty; Ayane bit her lip.
"I like Shin-nii. I feel like I'd die without him. What if that love isn't returned?"
"Uh..."
Heavy. Way heavier than expected—Kiriko's mind blanked.
Did I ever love that hard in school...?
She recalled her past: bleached blonde hair, tanned skin, Harajuku fashion, strutting the streets.
Huh. Never even close to romance.
She'd lived selfishly, ignoring suitors unless they begged. Rumors of her iron wall kept confessions to shoe lockers and desks, all discarded.
Swallowing tears, Kiriko focused on Ayane. No such heavy love, but as a love expert, she had advice.
"Miss Ayane."
Kiriko patted her shoulder gently.
"Love is about seizing it."
"Seizing...?"
"Unreturned? He doesn't see you?"
Her friends had endured it endlessly.
"Simple."
Kiriko clenched her fist and thrust it forward.
"Attack. And attack again."
"Attack...?"
"Men are weak to persistence. Especially spineless childhood friends."
"Shin-nii too...?"
Childhood friends rarely saw each other romantically. Yet.
"You've had that moment, right, Miss Ayane?"
That fresh event where he saw her as a woman. Ayane nodded.
"Y-Yeah..."
Recent memory: every expression, eye twitch, lip movement etched in. The day they bought her bass. Tae-il had blushed facing her directly for the first time.
Kiriko grinned.
"Then it's easy. What changed from then to now?"
"Me back then..."
Makeup. Skimpier clothes. Now she realized—not just Tae-il, all guys stared. Jealous glares made him subtly uncomfortable. Ayane felt the same about her thigh exposure, but his firm guard meant more contact, and she was thrilled.
I get it now. That's what it was.
Ayane turned, glaring past the partition at Sakuya.
Sakuraba's the same.
Shirt stretched open at the collar, cleavage bare; dolphin pants flashing inner thighs. Loose, tacky wear for private spaces. Fashion screaming to tempt men's lust.
"Then..."
Ayane had her own idea. Regaining confidence, she thanked Kiriko.
"Thanks, Kiriko-san!"
"N-No problem. Glad it helped."
Random advice, but Ayane's impressed face let Kiriko exhale in relief.
"I won't let Shin-nii go..."
Glaring at Sakuya's hidden partition, Ayane murmured softly.
"Didn't you provoke the gloomy girl too much?"
"Think so?"
Sakuya licked her finger that had touched Tae-il's lips. Only faint cola scent lingered. Didn't matter—it was his spit-up cola anyway.
"Indirect kiss, sorta...?"
"You say that in this situation?"
Rena looked genuinely done watching Sakuya lick her finger.
"Ahaha. You must've been shocked, Rena."
"Who wouldn't be?"
Rena wasn't great with people, but weirdos were her norm. Childhood friend Iris, obsessive fans at exhibits—no normals around. Including herself.
"Weirdos I'm used to. She's a dangerous weirdo."
"Dangerous?"
Sakuya pulled Rena into a hug, plopping her on her lap without worry.
"Hey, I'm serious."
"Me too."
Rena scowled, but Sakuya grinned and sank into the sofa.
"Anyway, that gloomy girl's seriously dangerous."
Rena shivered like goosebumps lingered.
"I was scared shitless when she grabbed the extinguisher saying she'd kill."
"Ahaha. Even I was a bit shocked."
Her pupils had gone dead—manga-style lifeless eyes, irises too dark for normal.
"Is Katsuragi a yandere?"
"You joke in a crisis like this..."
"You know what yandere means, Rena?"
"Uh? Yeah."
"Artist thing? Surprisingly knowledgeable?"
"W-What knowledge?"
"Heh. Nothing."
Sakuya laughed it off; Rena visibly relaxed, hand on chest. Oblivious to her civilian cosplay slip, she ranted.
"When that gloomy bitch emotionlessly lifted the extinguisher, I thought I'd piss myself."
"Ahaha! Really?"
"Funny? If she'd swung, you'd be injured at least."
"Then Tae-il would nurse me personally?"
No one home but her. Hurt arm or leg? Immobile, she'd be helpless against Tae-il pouncing...
Hearing Sakuya's mutter, Rena spat,
"Fucking psycho."
"Ahaha! Even you react like that?"
"Gloomy girl's bad, but you're worse."
"Nah~."
"Just warning ya: girl raping guy is still rape."
"Really?"
Sakuya teased if Rena wanted to test. Rena scowled.
"Crazy? Wanna be hated? Don't drag me in—do it solo."
"Ahaha. Even I'd mind Tae-il hating me..."
Like family rejection—heart-wrenching, painful. Maybe worse.
"Anyway, stop poking the gloomy girl. You'll get hurt."
"Worried?"
"You get hurt, Interhigh's fucked. School'll blame her anyway."
Ayane's morals committee—stricter discipline.
"Minimum suspension, worst expulsion."
"Honestly, don't care."
"Tae-il's distracted by gloomy girl—think he'll fuss over you?"
"Ah. True..."
Sakuya licked her lips. Ayane was always her obstacle. Her resistance was cute at first, but now just annoying.
"And you're forgetting: gloomy girl's morals committee."
"So? Everyone hates them."
"She has a good image."
They had bad reps, but Ayane was the teachers' golden girl. Model student suddenly snaps and hurts someone? Must be provocation. Whole school would speculate.
"Ah."
Sakuya gasped shortly. Rena nailed the blind spot in her irritation.
"Got it."
"Good."
If only Ayane suffered, Sakuya wouldn't care. But Tae-il involved? Big difference. Childhood friends, practically one body.
Sakuya whined plaintively.
"So jealous. I'd trade places—even if my chest shrinks. Can't, huh?"
"Wanna die?"
Rena snapped her head up, glaring. Sakuya's eyes naturally dropped to Rena's flat plain under the loose shirt. Sports bra, adorably flat.
"They say touching makes 'em grow. Want me to?"
"Fuck off."
"Ahaha!"
Rena covered her chest, scowling at the crude joke. Sakuya laughed till she slumped limply on the sofa.
"Sigh. Tae-il probably worries most about Katsuragi, right?"
"Childhood friend. Duh."
"Aah, jealous."
Sakuya nuzzled Rena's crown.
"You and Iris are childhood friends, right?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm the only one without..."
Sakuya inwardly regretted no childhood friend. Hers would've backed her unconditionally.
Rena'll rival Katsuragi someday too.
Currently hesitant, but Sakuya saw her potential—more nuts than Ayane later.
"You gonna keep fighting gloomy girl?"
"Dunno?"
Sakuya stroked Rena's hair. Cola-soaked, sticky like hers.
"Fighting over him is kinda silly, no?"
"Why?"
"Tae-il and Katsuragi aren't dating."
If lovers, she'd admit fault—netorare's sin. But just super-close 10-year childhood pals.
"I'm just shooting at an open goal. Right?"
"Open goal..."
"Katsuragi's no keeper. Competitor kicking for the same net."
Ayane led, closest to the Tae-il goal—only her back visible.
"But open goal means even from afar, it goes in easy?"
"Can still block without a keeper."
"Defenders suck."
Sakuya twisted, facing the partition hiding Ayane. Probably glaring back.
"Athlete's got firm resolve."
Rena muttered blankly at Sakuya's unyielding Tae-il pursuit.
"Still don't get it."
As Rena wavered, applause echoed from the lounge center.
"Everyone, attention!"
Iris. All rose from sofas, eyes on her. Confirming the focus, she smiled faintly.
"Looks like we need some honest talk."
Honest talk. Her gentle gaze swept Sakuya, Ayane, Rena.
They closed eyes, breathed deep. Best reconciliation for strained bonds? Skinship, they said.
Iris clapped sharply.
"So, hot springs!"
Let's have an honest naked chat, shall we?