Lizard Love and Budokan Dreams
Summer vacation in the Animal Husbandry Club room. Unlike the sweltering hallway, the club room was refreshingly cool. Tae-il took a deep breath through his nose as he stepped inside.
"Suuup."
The thick scent of animals hit him hard. Feeling a bit awkward, like it had been weeks since his last visit, he set down his bag and got right to work.
"Good morning, lizards."
He checked the temperature and humidity in each terrarium one by one, slipped on latex gloves, and cleaned the insides spotlessly. Occasionally, a lizard would gape its mouth wide in threat, startling him every time.
"Ack! You, try biting me! You'll be the one sorry!"
-Gyaok!
The lizard couldn't possibly understand human words, so they just stared each other down in a pointless battle of wills.
"Why's this one so feisty today? Breeding season?"
Tae-il recalled hearing that animals got extra edgy during breeding season. He checked Yuuya's logbook. Finding the tag with the prickly gecko's name, he read the note.
"'Currently in breeding season—ravenous appetite, highly sensitive nerves, extreme caution required.' Huh, it was real..."
Even cats went crazy in heat; lizards in breeding season were no different. Tae-il conceded defeat gracefully.
Once the cleaning was mostly done, it was time to prepare their food. If geckos ate regular feed, that'd be great, but the club also bred and sold animals, so live food was essential. In other words, gut-loading—insects.
"Hina-something wasn't the only one nearing breeding season..."
Despite her absentminded vibe, Yuuya was meticulous. Tae-il consulted her log and pulled out a massive plastic bin from under the shelves.
Inside were mealworms stripped of carrots and nutrients, wriggling en masse.
"Ugh."
The moment he popped the lid, nausea rose involuntarily. The smell was bad enough, but insects triggered a deep visual revulsion. He'd tried watching videos at home to get used to it, but footage and reality were worlds apart.
"What luxury am I chasing here...?"
Tears welling, Tae-il grabbed fresh gloves and tongs to extract the mealworms. Truth be told, he was somewhat used to them. His dad's hobby was fishing, and his neighbor Ayane's family ran a sushi shop. Sushi and fishing—a combo that demanded mental prep.
The two dads even teamed up for fishing trips whenever free. When Hotaru invited him, Tae-il thought, It's finally here. Even his distant dad, Shin Young-hoon, got enthusiastic: "Any real man has to try deep-sea fishing at least once!"
"That time with live bait was rough too..."
Tae-il eyed the mealworms wistfully. Modern anglers used dough bait, but those two insisted real fishing meant live stuff—mealworms and even earthworms.
He'd had to handle worms barehanded, tears in his eyes. At least here he had gloves.
Thank god for these. Asakura had stocked them just in case, a lifeline for him.
"Okay, that's these guys done. Next up..."
His train of thought halted at the next step. After filling a lab-style round plate with mealworms came crickets. Bad memories flooded back.
The club focused on reptiles, so they raised tons of crickets for live feeding—300 at least. In a glass enclosure bigger than the gecko terrariums, he removed egg cartons and scooped crickets into a separate plastic tub.
"Sigh. Gotta clean this every four days, huh..."
As he gingerly shifted the cartons, the piled crickets thrashed their legs and antennae wildly. Tae-il squeezed his eyes shut.
"Nope."
His motivation evaporated. He'd leave cricket tub cleaning to Yuuya and Asakura. Shaking off the sight, he fed the geckos one by one.
As feeding wrapped up, Yuuya entered the room.
"You're here."
"Yeah."
Unlike Tae-il's casual clothes, Yuuya wore her uniform. She set her bag down and inspected the terrariums.
"Cleaning?"
"Did everything except turtles and crickets."
"Feeding?"
"On it. One line left."
"You're getting used to it...?"
She tilted her head, watching him feed a gecko perched on his gloved hand. Tae-il shrugged.
"Eh, kinda."
His face still screamed reluctance, but he wasn't ghostly pale anymore. Yuuya tiptoed over, rested her chin on his shoulder, and peered at the gecko.
"Good reaction?"
"It's trying to chomp the tongs."
"Haha, sure."
Yuuya giggled, extending her index and middle fingers. The gecko paused mid-cricket, recognized its owner, and hopped onto her hand.
Reptiles didn't eat often, but seeing it abandon food for her hand left Tae-il impressed.
"I've seen it before, but senpai, you're amazing."
"Am I?"
She smiled softly, stroking its head and back. Like a dog enjoying pets, the gecko closed its beady eyes contentedly.
"Senpai aren't secretly a druid or something?"
"Druid...?"
"N-nothing."
Tae-il brushed it off, but Yuuya murmured "druid," recalling he'd said something similar at their first meeting.
"Druid..."
"Huh?"
"Dunno. Nothing."
She echoed him, making Tae-il chuckle. I'll search what it means later...
As she puzzled over it, Tae-il fed the next gecko. Yuuya shelved the topic and chatted naturally.
"Heard from Asakura-sensei you missed yesterday."
"Haha, yeah, some stuff came up..."
He rubbed his stiff neck from Iris, trailing off. It had been an insanely packed day—too absurd for Yuuya to believe.
"Unforgettable, that's for sure."
"Yeah..."
Yuuya thought his expression mirrored her dad's after a stock crash. Not good stuff, then. Better not pry. She stroked the gecko's back. Everyone had their own life.
"No issues while I was gone?"
"Nope. Total peace."
"Phew."
He grinned sheepishly, guilt if anything had happened gnawing at him.
"How's Taichi lately?"
"Me?"
"Light Music Club. Going well?"
"Eh, so-so?"
He laughed wryly at his own vagueness.
"Honestly, no clue."
"Why?"
"No real results from the band yet."
His band was brand-new—barely even jammed with everyone. Was it even a band?
Late start. No cheetah speed here; he didn't know how long to grin and bear it.
"Other clubs must be buzzing."
"Sorry, no idea..."
"Not your fault."
Still, summer meant busy for everyone. Rock season: festivals from early summer to late fall. Heaven for rock fans, easy mode for indies and scouts.
"Bands busiest in summer?"
"Festivals galore—more stages for bands."
"Got it."
"Indie-friendly rock fests too, big or small."
Seniors opened small ones to boost juniors—name-making opportunities.
"Taichi's dream: rock fest debut?"
"Headliner? Nah. Opening act would be dream enough."
Tired of being background.
"Rock fest good, but band's holy grail is Budokan, right?"
"Yeah."
Budokan—the arena turned music mecca. Yuuya knew it from sumo fame.
"If Taichi plays Budokan, I get stage too?"
"Haha, if you want?"
He said casually.
"School band at Budokan? Unprecedented."
"Is it?"
"Even pros take 3-4 years post-debut."
By his senior year? She'd have graduated.
"Aw, bummer..."
"But."
To her pout, he added:
"If we hit Budokan, you're VIP. Promise."
"Stage?"
"Ask the members...?"
"Me too."
"Huh?"
"I'm a member."
Tae-il whipped around, shoulders shaking.
"Pfft! S-sorry, couldn't help it...!"
"Boo."
"Really sorry. Didn't expect senpai to care that much."
"It's fine. Stage was joke."
"Joke, right?"
"Yeah. But wanna see Taichi's stage. Okay?"
"Anytime."
He beamed, just imagining it.
"Rock fest fame first, though."
"Fighting."
"Fighting."
Fist bump.
Rock fest... Headache for Tae-il. Original story's first was girls-band only; his mixed band disqualified them.
No student rock fests in Tokyo?
Great infrastructure, but school band venues limited: culture fests, local events, lucky contests.
Ask random seniors or Takahashi-sensei?
Rock fest—kimchi soup dreams, but he craved it. Indie glory: sharing stage with majors, even fleeting.
Pride he'd never tasted.
My stages were... Past life: lives, doujin sessions, YouTuber backups. Local youth fests for charity. Never spotlighted, barely thanked. Collapsed at debut from exhaustion—always background.
"Senpai ever think that?"
"Think what?"
"Wanna be loved. Noticed. Successful. That stuff."
"Hmm."
Tae-il meant natural ego-boost desires. Yuuya, competition-averse, found it alien. But her one craving: love. Not from people—usually.
Exception...
"Um..."
She peeked timidly, no senior poise.
"Loved by... non-humans okay?"
"Huh?"
Stunned blink. Silence. Laughter.
"Haha! Of course! Animals love each other too."
"Right...?"
"Harder than humans, even."
Her idea cracked him up. Blushing, she looked cuter—like a vlog pet.
Smiling warmly:
"Senpai wants these kids' love?"
"...Yeah."
"Then congrats—you've got it."
"Th-thanks..."
She fanned her hot face. AC blasting, yet flushed. Weird.
Tae-il murmured:
"Kinda jealous."
"Me?"
"Feels like I'm lacking."
Last gecko back, gloves trashed. Yuuya was loved—the animals adored her. Enough for her. Not him.
"Taichi lacks love?"
"Makes me sound affection-starved."
"Aren't you?"
"..."
Silence. Affection-deficient? Never crossed his mind. Casually dumped in relationships. Thrilled by music praise. Cousin Shin Seong-il's reluctant head-pats were euphoric.
"Nah, more like simply—"
"Then."
Yuuya cut in softly, firmly. Tilted head filled his view. Emerald eyes gleamed.
Enraptured by their vibrant embrace:
"Shall I help?"
"How?"
* * *
"Lend a camera for videos?"
Mori Yuuya—Asakura's favorite student. She rarely visited the staff room, sparing her advisor rest. But for club matters, she came boldly. Like now.
Asakura crunched her candy.
"Videos why? YouTube?"
"Yes, YouTube."
"Weren't you doing one? Another?"
"That's Animal Husbandry. This is Light Music."
"Ah..."
Asakura nodded knowingly. Tae-il, propped like a screen, gawked cluelessly.
Her eyes screamed: Explain!
"Taichi, where d'you think we get pet funds?"
"School activity budget, sales?"
"Right. But short. So, side hustle."
"YouTube?"
"TikTok too—kids love it."
All legal cash sources. She pulled up their channel.
"Yuuma High Animal Husbandry...?"
Tae-il's eyes bulged at subs: "250k?!"
"Heh, early days. Wanna see a vid?"
"P-please!"
She giggled, queuing top video—770k views, Yuuya thumbnail.
Tae-il glared: "Too blatant selling senpai...?"
"Heh, cute girls + animals = money."
"You a teacher...?"
"I consented."
"If senpai's cool..."
Click—video played. Mundane: Asakura filmed Yuuya handling, feeding, petting geckos. Her beauty exploded views. Tae-il dreaded comments.
"Good, right?"
"Cinematography? Or subject?"
"Both! My pride and joy!"
"S-sensei..."
Yuuya protested; Asakura replayed, self-praising.
"Kid enrolled here for Yuuya."
"Dropped fast..."
"..."
Tae-il deadpanned as vlog ended.
"Makes money?"
"Subs/views trigger ads."
"Ads?"
"Terrariums, decor, feed."
"Cricket farms meh."
"..."
Breeders collab sometimes. TikTok: more reptiles, hatching/eating clips.
"Those hit 1M easy."
"So."
Ignoring brag, Tae-il eyed Yuuya:
"How's YouTube help my band?"
"Film your playing."
"My solos...?"
"Yeah."
YouTube crossed his mind for promo. But band incomplete, jams too raw.
Black history waiting.
Solo average guy bass? Snooze.
"Won't go viral."
"Collab."
"Collab?"
"Link our channels."
Yuuya's idea dawned; Asakura nodded. Tae-il baffled.
"Animals and band? No link."
"Trendy vids: everyday stuff covers. PET bottles, snacks."
"..."
He pondered, hand over mouth. Valid. Childhood fave YouTuber used chocolate bars, tops.
Novel + good songs = subbed, live viewer.
"Play unique with animal stuff?"
"One way. Thoughts?"
"Need time."
"Sure. Yuuya?"
"Yes."
Nod. Tae-il mulled. Consultation over.
They left; Asakura slumped back, chuckling eyes closed.
"Heh."
Maybe no worry for her student.
First love never blooms, huh.
Worried sick. Yuuya seemed defenseless.
Rejection's foreign to her.
Animals never rejected her druid-like bond. First time here: club snubs despite effort. Sensitive kid—feared tiny wounds.
Her growth thrilled Asakura.
"Good."
Relieved, she dozed. Nap time.
* * *
"Planned a channel anyway."
"Yeah."
"But okay using band name for personal?"
"Why not?"
Yuuya hitched bag, skipped ahead. Tae-il stared dreamily. Sun filtered windows, gleaming her mint hair and jade eyes like verdant leaves.
"Sometimes."
She spun, smiled softly:
"I spend YouTube cash on snacks."
"...Casual embezzlement."
"Heehee."
Chatting, they headed back. Animal Husbandry Club work never ended.