Bet (2)
The art room was filled with sound. You might not notice from afar, but the resonance came not just from the instruments themselves but also through the players' bodies. That's why what the performers heard differed from the audience. The sound flooding the room during practice was so intense it left the musicians' ears ringing. Especially the drums—no volume knob like on electronic instruments, just stroke strength to control it.
"Damn, my ears are gonna fall off."
"Hurts a lot?"
Break time. With ears muffled like after a plane ride or swimming, Rena was digging in her ear when her eyes met Tae-il's. She yanked her hand away in a panic.
"N-no! Not at all! Totally fine!"
She hid both hands behind her back and tried to play it off, but it didn't fool Tae-il. He approached with a worried look, gently checking and touching her ears. As Rena's face flushed red, Tae-il fretted.
"Rena, didn't you use the earplugs I gave you?"
Before practice, he'd asked her permission and handed them over. The green plugs should've poked out from her earlobes, but they weren't there.
Rena made excuses. "E-even with those, my ears still hurt the same. And I wasn't hitting that hard anyway—do I really need 'em?"
"You do."
Hearing was precious for musicians. Even for non-musicians, issues with one of the five senses were no joke. Hearing problems rarely stayed isolated to just that sense.
"Excuse me for a sec."
Tae-il suddenly stepped close and boldly reached into her pocket, pulling out the neglected earplugs.
"Y-you really...!"
"I won't make you wear 'em for home practice."
Tae-il softly cupped her face with his hands and inserted the plugs. Rena's face turned redder than a ripe octopus, hot enough to burst. She tried backing away, but the stool she was on was narrower than expected. Just lifting her butt a little put her at the edge.
Why'd it have to be earplugs...
If he'd been putting on earbuds or headphones like in the movies, it would've been way more romantic...
Whoosh. As the rubber lump wedged into her ear canal, even her tiny groan vibrated through her body.
"Ugh... feels so weird..."
"Haha. Wanna try drumming like this? Something you're confident in."
Rena stuck out her lips in complaint at his clumsy insertion.
"Rena?"
"Scoot over a bit. I'll play right now."
"Uh, sure."
Tak-tak-tak! The basic beat everyone learns first on drums. Starting with single strokes on the hi-hat, then splitting the rhythm to add snare, bass drum, ride, and finally mixing in the toms. Perfect timing.
Just days into drumming, her innate sense of rhythm drew gasps of admiration. Her small frame caused a slight shortfall in sound and stroke power—potential flaws—but for a total newbie, it was ridiculously good. Tae-il was convinced she was a born drummer.
Or maybe Rena could excel on any instrument if given the chance...
Tae-il hesitated. Should he hand her a guitar instead right now? She'd nail it, no doubt. But he didn't. He could picture her drumming, and swapping her out felt like a loss.
I'm crazy too, huh.
Even to him, forcing a petite girl into drums while lost in delusions looked pretty bad. Instead, he shifted thoughts. In the original story, Rena struggled with physical limits every time she played, collapsing exhausted on the floor after their landmark first gig while everyone else basked in euphoria.
Tae-il pondered ways to make it easier for her.
Resize the drum set to fit her better?
Like famous female drummer Mo Tucker, stripping it to a simple standing kit without hi-hats could work. Or like Meg White from garage legends White Stripes, minimizing everything to the bare essentials.
Tae-il always chased the "right" answer, but music had none. Drumming wasn't just physical. He was building a typical J-pop band, but no need to stick to conventions. No digging through indie scenes required—major successes like Sekai no Owari proved it.
Gotta research more.
There were bands aplenty in the world, surely some who'd nailed what he sought.
Like minimizing Iris's guitar to ease her vocal load...
Simplify Rena's drums or shoulder the burden himself. Keyboardists were mighty. If drums were the band's heart, keys were the brain. Plenty of monsters to study: DJ-keyboard hybrids, singers layering pads for live a cappella choirs solo.
Gonna need brutal practice...
His thoughts naturally veered to taking it on himself as he watched her play. Over two hours in, with breaks, but fatigue didn't vanish. Rena couldn't match her initial flashiness. Still, Tae-il was satisfied—steady progress. Unlike self-taught Iris with bad habits, Rena's motions were clean, no excess.
Next after Ayane in worry, but maybe unfounded. She might adapt faster than Sakuraba. Tae-il clapped.
"That's enough. Good work, Rena."
"Hoo... whew."
Rena yanked out the plugs and shook her stinging palms.
"Lemme see."
"Huh?"
Tae-il grabbed her hand and pressed his thumbs into her palms like acupressure.
"Better?"
"Ah, aaah... u-ugh."
Her circuits shorted from the tender touch.
"You good?"
She'd need time to recover.
Grind.
Ayane ground her teeth. She itched to barge into their pink bubble and shatter the vibe. But Iris held her back.
"Iris! Hurry!"
"Wait a sec. Got something to show."
Ayane wasn't the only one sweating. Iris felt the heat too. No way Ayane stayed put while Tae-il tended Rena. Iris had smoothly grabbed her the instant he turned attention that way, distracting with "practice notes."
Iris had zero interest beyond guitar and vocals, so her explanations were bogus, but Ayane nodded along, trusting her. Iris craved success here more than anyone—hers equaled Tae-il's.
Ayane took Iris's half-baked advice dead seriously.
Ah, my conscience is wearing thin...
Even saying it pricked Iris's guilt. Truth was, she didn't care who Tae-il paired with. Sure, bestie Rena stung a bit, but no right to dictate a friend's heart. As some citizen said, if the parties were happy, that was that. Thumbs up.
Competition had to be fair. Love too, Iris figured. But she wouldn't let band harmony shatter over it. Her choice: neutrality. Distract Rena when Ayane clung, Ayane when Rena did. Behind oblivious Tae-il's bomb-planting, her tearful battle for peace shone.
"Found it. This woman's a female bassist..."
"Ayane, you seen this?"
"S-seen it...?"
"Shin-chan showed it yesterday. No need to overdo it like her..."
"R-right..."
Shin Tae-iiiiiil!
Iris screamed internally as massaged Rena went limp.
"Haaah... so rough. Shouldn't have picked drums...?"
"Haha. Wanna switch instruments now?"
"Nah. Feels like chickening out."
Rena flexed her red palms, grinning slyly. "You wouldn't get it, but I've got plenty reasons not to quit drums now."
"For real? Like what?"
Tae-il's curiosity lit up; Rena pressed a finger to her lips—shh—and smirked.
"Secret."
He booed playfully. "Ugh! Secrets make girls more ladylike or whatever?"
"So what? Saying I'm not ladylike?"
"Never said that..."
"Whatever. I'll use the plugs properly."
"Got tons at home—ask anytime."
"Were they yours?"
"No way..."
Her expectant look met his rare straight face. Hygiene consumable like earplugs from his use? Too thug-like, he snapped.
"I'm not that kinda guy."
"O-okay..."
Scolded over one request, Rena pouted softly.
"If not, why snap..."
"Sigh."
Tae-il shook his head.
"Also, don't overuse 'em? Summer's humid—easy for ear infections. Consumables anyway."
"Got it, you nag."
He laughed despite the jab. Member health first.
"Shin Tae-il! Done nagging Rena-chan?"
"All done!"
"Then let's jump right into this!"
"What is it?"
As Tae-il approached, Iris showed a video on her smartphone. A BARD concert live.
Intro alone, and Tae-il clocked it.
"'If Only We'd Never Met'?"
"Bingo!"
Ayane—who'd stuck by Iris—and Rena—who'd trailed Tae-il—all eyes on it now. Iris grinned.
"Wanna gather 'round and watch?"
"What's up?"
"New song?"
"Uh..."
Tae-il plus two high school girls crowding a tiny phone screen felt packed. Ayane and Rena subtly pressed against him, doubling his stuffiness compared to Iris.
"Young miss."
Kiriko appeared perfectly timed, offering Tae-il rescue.
"What?"
"This is the art room."
She pointed to the ceiling-mounted beam projector. Iris shrank back.
"Ehh, too lazy to boot the computer..."
"Yuuma High style—latest model, Bluetooth to phone works. Shall I?"
"...Fine."
Kiriko's subtle nudge was code for "do it." Iris grumbled but stood, heading over meekly.
Tae-il looked up at the projector. Art Room A doubled as a classroom, surprisingly well-equipped.
"Classrooms are sneakily convenient, huh."
"Yeah, totally."
Ayane agreed with his mutter. Spacious, with computer, projector, speakers, misc tools galore. Among classrooms, art room rivaled science or home ec in size and gear. Schools usually soundproofed only broadcast rooms, music rooms, auditoriums—but Rena's made it secure too, better than most practice spaces.
"Ahem!"
As Tae-il admired, Rena cleared her throat proudly, puffing her flat-as-asphalt chest.
He chuckled. "Yeah, thanks. All thanks to you lending the art room so generously, Rena."
"Well, it was kinda big for just me."
"Nah, too cramped for an artist doing exhibitions?"
"Not really? Serious canvas work needs a pro studio anyway..."
"Lighting?"
"Nah, canvas size."
Blackboard-sized canvases demanded matching space. School art room fell short, she shrugged.
Liar.
Ayane glared inwardly. She knew the dirt. Rena had crushed seniors with skill to claim it solo, then added locks after revenge. Classmates trashed her: too aggressive, antisocial, snappy even to teacher relays. From Ayane's intel, spiteful and prickly. No pure goodwill in lending to a rival like her.
Ayane suspected but lacked proof—with Tae-il there, she let it slide.
"Done!"
Three heads snapped up at Iris's shout. Blurry but clear on the white blackboard: projector light.
"Kiriko'll drop the screen. Oh, Shin Tae-il! Curtains?"
"Got it."
Curtains down blocked window light; room plunged dark. Projection sharpened.
"Seats, everyone!"
Rena claimed her stool throne; Tae-il and Ayane grabbed chairs. Ayane clung arm, unyielding.
"Ayane...?"
"Hm? Uncomfy, Shin-chan...?"
"Nah."
Rena sneaked her stool closer in the dark, tapping his foot shyly for attention—no Ayane-level boldness.
Tae-il blinked at her. "Rena?"
"What."
"Uh, nothing..."
As he puzzled, Iris hit play.
"Here we go!"
All eyes locked on screen. Izumi emerged through dry ice fog.
"Wooow...!"
Iris fanned out fanclub-style. Rena eyed curiously—what's so great she simps this hard? Ayane tensed unconsciously, gripping Tae-il's arm tighter. Finally, Shin Tae-il...
Last year's concert footage. Wonder if I can snag tickets for the summer arena tour... Message Masato? Nah, not connected enough for two-plus. Yahiro-hyung then...?
His heart burned with ticketing woes.