Childhood Friend (6)
The sun had set. The asphalt, scorched like a kiln under the blazing midday heat, was gradually cooling, and evening had arrived at the Honjo residence, as it always did.
No matter how lazy they were or how much they skipped practice, once anyone started playing, time slipped away unnoticed. That went for Rena and Ayane, who had only just begun taking their first steps with their instruments, and even for Tae-il, who was teaching them.
We're screwed!
Tae-il panicked the moment he returned from the kitchen for a quick drink. The living room was pitch black with the lights off. He hurriedly checked the time on his smartphone and broke out in a cold sweat despite the mild temperature—it was well past the thirty-minute practice limit he'd recommended to Ayane.
"A-Ayane…!"
He gulped down water from his cup and rushed to the practice room.
Even as Tae-il burst in, Ayane remained lost in her zone, eyes closed, earphones plugged in, still deep in practice.
"Ayane!"
Her dedication was admirable, but performers had to manage their condition too. Tae-il approached and gently grasped her hand moving over the bass fretboard.
"Ayane, stop."
"Huh?"
As Ayane blinked in confusion, Tae-il removed her earphones.
"Stop."
"Stop what, Shin?"
"You've practiced way too much. Time to rest! No arguments!"
"Ayane's hands are still fine, though…."
"No buts."
You had to stop while you were still fresh. Tae-il pressed his index finger to Ayane's lips as she tried to protest.
"Pack up the bass and rest fully until tomorrow. Okay?"
"O-Okay…."
Only then did Tae-il let out a sigh of relief as she nodded.
"Same goes for you, Rena! You can skip the pads, but no drums until tomorrow!"
"I'm already not playing."
Rena waved her sticks teasingly with just her thumb, as if to prove her point. While Tae-il was busy reining in Ayane, Rena's enthusiasm had already fizzled out, leaving her with a bored expression.
"Rena, why the long face?"
"What's wrong with my face?"
"You look pissed off. Smile. You'll get wrinkles."
Tae-il gave a wry smile and bent down with a grunt, leveling their eyes. He openly studied her face.
First to catch his gaze were her striking wall-blue eyes. They say eyes are the windows to the soul. Rena's cool, sea-like eyes held more emotions than expected—anger at a glance, boredom at another. A tangle of complex feelings sank deep into those half-lidded depths, meeting Tae-il's hazy stare.
Even as she blinked rapidly, Tae-il didn't look away.
"Ugh…."
Overwhelmed by his gaze, Rena looked down. Victorious in the staring contest, Tae-il's eyes crinkled softly at the corners.
"How was your day? Pretty bad?"
"Not bad, exactly… just boring. No fun. Kinda irritating…."
After spitting out a string of negatives, Rena paused, gauging Tae-il's expression. He seemed relaxed, but no—sweat beaded his forehead despite his efforts to hide his tension. Serious yet somehow funny in his consistency, she giggled.
"Yeah, pretty bad, huh."
Rena shrugged with a bored look and tapped the snare lightly. Unlike usual, her strokes carried a hint of pent-up stress.
"Hm."
Tae-il closed his eyes. Not every instrument was fun for beginners. Humans were picky creatures—probably the pickiest in the universe. Plenty of people just didn't click with playing. Pianos required too many fingers, strings hurt, and they quit before learning anything. Rhythm instruments were especially tough to get into. Drums at least let you vent stress. If F-chords were a wall of tears on guitar, bass was a whole symphony of sobs.
He understood Rena's state. He had to.
"Your overall vibe's pretty negative. Must've sucked a lot."
"Yeah."
Rena replied curtly, spinning a drumstick in her dainty palm.
"First off, you've got me worrying about too much stuff."
Freestyle drumming had been carefree—no worries, pure fun. But Tae-il's tips turned it into stress. No more playing by feel, instinct, or spinal reflexes. She had to control everything.
"It lined up perfectly when I wasn't thinking about the beat. But forcing myself to watch the metronome and all that just makes it worse."
Knowledge became shackles. She'd never hit a wall drawing, but now one loomed. The unfamiliar sensation was fresh at first, yet unpleasant too. Mistakes. Rena hated making them.
"Or at least let me finish a piece without stopping."
"Ahaha."
She glared at Tae-il as he tried to laugh it off.
"That's cheating."
Even lighthearted moments got no mercy during practice.
"You keep halting me for tiny mistakes, repeating the same boring section over and over. How could I not get annoyed?"
"You have to nail mistakes early to fix them…."
Ignored errors became habits, and habits boomeranged later. But feeling the wall as external pressure rather than her skill gap halved her fun, and she just pouted.
Not fun.
Truth was, it wasn't just the extra worries dulling her enjoyment. Rena shot Ayane a sharp glare behind Tae-il's back.
Just a few weeks ahead of me and she acts like some pro bassist….
It might sound like an excuse, but Ayane kept grating on her nerves, breaking her focus. Ayane, tidying her bass, sensed the stare and looked up. Puzzled at first, she soon got the message in Rena's eyes and smirked smugly.
Hmph.
Ugh….
Rena scowled. But then—
"As expected. Looks like Rena's got real talent for drums."
"Huh?"
Rena, bristling at Ayane's provocation, calmed instantly at Tae-il's praise. The crease between her brows smoothed right out.
"Talent for drums? Me? For real? Not joking?"
"Do I seem like someone who'd joke about this?"
"Hard to believe, that's why…."
"Dead serious. You've got natural rhythm sense. That's a huge edge for drums."
Perfect pitch didn't guarantee musical genius, but it helped. Same for Rena. Her strokes were raw, but practice would fix that. Rhythm sense was innate. Even distracted, she never missed the beat—only erred in execution. Hating practice yet nailing rhythm like a scalpel? Miraculous for a total newbie. Tae-il thought, This is talent.
"Rena, drums aren't easy."
"Really tough…?"
She asked worriedly. She'd started partly for the thrill with Tae-il, but mostly to help Iris. Though Iris's weight still outweighed his in her heart, if drums took too long, she'd burden Iris. That scared her.
"Drums weren't originally one set. Each part was a separate instrument played by different musicians."
Like military bands with drummers on varied percussion.
"One player handles it all. That's a drummer."
Why drummers were great.
"They constantly calculate beats mentally. No calculation, no sense, no matter the practice."
Brain on math, limbs on rhythm. No pedals or amps—just pure body making varied sounds, like a one-person percussion orchestra.
"Creating the session's root beat solo? Brain and body fry."
Why drums drained stamina and focus most. High difficulty meant ages to ingrain basics.
"But a drummer can't just think of themselves, especially in jams."
No knobs for volume tweaks like other electrics. Stay unshaken by sound, keep the band steady like a mountain. Catch issues instantly too.
"Burdened, yet glorious."
Heavy duty meant heavy pressure. No room for drum errors. Others could improvise covers onstage. Drums? Tough. Pillar falls, roof collapses—everyone notices the harmony shatter.
"So."
Tae-il continued gently, coaxing.
"You've got talent. Practice shouldn't bore you. If done right, letting it shine."
"Right…."
No boredom when overwhelmed. Not Rena. Unlike Ayane's taut focus on chords, Rena had room for irritation, lingering on errors with leisure.
Clutching her stick, she glared at its tip per Tae-il's advice.
Did I practice right?
Palms stung, fingers stiff. Stamina low, breathing ragged—not exhausted, but worn. She'd practiced. To boredom. Yet…
Hard to affirm her own question. Did I play straight? Consider every element like Tae-il said?
No.
She remembered mistakes. Restarting from scratch was annoying. Fixing tiny ones made Tae-il beam. That ticklish chest-fill felt good—like Iris praising her clumsy art.
"Hah."
Rena scratched her head roughly. She remembered Tae-il's beats perfectly. Could play them now. Closing her eyes—
Thud-thud-thud.
Strokes echoed phantom-like. One, two, three, four.
No metronome beep. But in her head, steady ticks. Chanting inwardly, she moved her hands. One, two, three, four. One-one, two-two, three-three, four-four.
Breaking beats as taught, stroking the snare. Finally—
Thud-thud-thud-thud, thud-thud-thud-thud.
Precisely nailing the split 8-beats her brain calculated, she boldly wove in bass drum, cymbals, toms. Hands sped. Midway, a late kick. Brows twitched. Tae-il's jaw dropped at her awareness. She faltered briefly, recovered in two bars.
Finishing what'd be ~30 bars on sheet, Rena opened her eyes slowly. Looking up like a kid awaiting praise, she grinned dopily at Tae-il.
"How was that just now?"
Tae-il laughed helplessly.
"Perfect."
Talent couldn't lie. He thumbs-upped.
Rena beamed. More than the thumb, his sparkling eyes pleased her.
Ayane latched onto Tae-il from behind, belatedly.
"Waaah! Shin only praises Honjo again! Favoritism!"
"Haha. You too, Ayane."
He stroked her whining head calmly. She went docile like a beast hit by a tranquilizer.
"Me too?"
"Yeah. Your skills exploded since yesterday. Honestly moved me."
"Really…?"
"Would I lie? I don't fib about this." He pinched her cheek lightly.
"Ehehe."
"Alright. Practice wrapped. Dinner and disband."
"Ehehe. Oh, what's for dinner?"
Rena sniped at Ayane clinging to Tae-il.
"What else? Sushi. Pork. Forgot?"
Ayane freaked at "sushi."
"Sushi again!? Let's eat something else!"
"No way. Ordered for you."
"For Ayane, but still…."
She gagged at the mere fish smell thought, unbefitting a sushi shop girl.
"Ugh… Ayane's tummy's bubbling again after finally settling…."
"Want me to rub it if it hurts?"
"Huh?"
Tae-il's worried offer sparked Ayane's eyes.
If I eat sushi, get sick, Shin'll nurse me all day…?
No practice tomorrow—fine to hurt a bit.
"Let's eat. Sushi." She nodded resolutely, like a man facing death if he skipped it.
"Arisugawa still sleeping?"
"Probably."
Rena hopped off her stool, stretching.
"Nngh!"
Rolling her stiff back from rigid posture, she added, "Once she's out, she sleeps 24 hours straight. Alarm won't wake her."
Tae-il marveled. "People like that actually exist…."
"Of course. Anyway, I'll wake Iris. You two set the table."
"Okay. Let's go, Ayane."
"Yeah!"
They left first. Rena turned off the AC, staring at her palms. Reddened like Tae-il's assembling drums, they smarted on flex.
"Hm."
Talent.
Tae-il's voice haunted her. To her, his word was gold.
"I can help Iris too."
Moonlight led the caged bird to a world called freedom.
"Yeah."
From lifelong receiver to giver. Rena still resented Ayane, but inwardly thanked her unwitting spark—and massive influencer, Shin Tae-il.
"Still, unlike with that sporty girl, no certainty about you…."
Uncertainty bred joy. Youth. Challenges dared by the young. Failure? Fine. Part of youth.
Rena clenched her tiny fist, grinning refreshingly.
"Time to go?"
To Iris's guest room.