Date and Stalking (3)
Tae-il wasn't all that unfamiliar with dates. He'd gone on plenty with his girlfriend in his past life, and even in this one, he and Ayane had often headed out just the two of them. Especially with Ayane—they'd drag each other shopping amid their busy schedules, citing all sorts of excuses. Sure, it was called shopping, but it involved hitting the movies, picking up accessories, chatting over coffee at a café, and capping it off with dinner. That routine was straight out of the classic date playbook, so yeah, it counted as dates.
Maybe that's why, up until that very morning, Tae-il hadn't been sweating his date with Sakuya all that much. If it had been Iris or Izumi, he might've been a little more on edge. But Sakuya? To him, she was basically his first real friend in this life, aside from his childhood buddy Ayane. Arthur? That guy's no friend—just a high-maintenance frenemy, so he didn't count.
Above all, Sakuya was someone Tae-il purely admired and respected, a girl with insane talent. He'd once felt a twinge of petty jealousy, questioning if such a setup even made sense in the story. But as he dove deeper into the work, those feelings washed away. Now, everyone from the original characters—even Rena, who'd started off hostile toward him—left him with nothing but fondness.
So when Sakuya had come on to him in Gunma, his heart had fluttered a bit. With the band as his top priority, he'd tried not to lean into those thoughts, but guys were tragic creatures—controlling their urges wasn't as easy as it sounded.
"Still..."
Tae-il felt so at ease around her that getting nervous seemed downright silly. He could even lean on her without a second thought, forgetting his pride as a guy.
But then.
"Hoo."
Alone in the empty house, Tae-il let out a heavy sigh he hadn't let slip to anyone. He'd played it cool on the surface, but with the date looming, even he was starting to feel the tension. The second he'd parted ways with Yuuya—who'd had that oddly dissatisfied look on her face—and gotten home, he'd planted himself in front of the mirror. Anyone could've seen he was on edge.
"What should I wear on this date...?"
His date jitters quickly spiraled into fashion angst. He'd planned to throw on something casually neat and call it a day. But now, tense as he was, he found himself holding up outfit after outfit against his body, agonizing over what suited him best.
Tae-il's fashion sense was... lacking. He hated outfits that prioritized looks over comfort, even if it meant putting up with discomfort. Fit and ease always came first. Money had been tight, too, playing its part. In his past life, most of his clothes were hand-me-downs from his older cousin.
He'd made an effort for dates with his girlfriend or stage gigs, but day-to-day? His wardrobe was a mess of threadbare, frayed stuff that screamed "shabby." Kids usually got clothes bought by their parents until they moved out, but Tae-il's obsession with music—something his folks kept telling him to drop—had soured their relationship. As they drifted apart, they barely bought him a decent outfit or two. Petty spite, really.
Puberty hit, and in full rebellion mode, Tae-il fired back with even pettier spite. The family rift just deepened over time. After going independent, it all boiled over—his dad, Shin Young-hoon, even threatened to kick him off the family registry. His mom, Yu Hana, had chided her husband that it wasn't necessary, but the father-son bond was beyond repair by then.
Naturally, Tae-il's default look was perpetually broke and rumpled. This life was a step up, at least. His relationship with his mom, Yu Hana, wasn't bad, and most of the clothes in his closet were gifts from her or Ayane—stuff she'd dragged him to local shops or department stores to buy.
"Hm."
Tae-il pulled an outfit from the closet and stood before the mirror, holding it up roughly to gauge if it worked. After repeating the process a few times, he froze. Anyone could see this wasn't "meeting a friend" energy.
"Am I overdoing it...?"
He set the hanger down. From the start, he hadn't read much into Sakuya's date proposal. He figured she wasn't expecting anything huge either. He'd made it clear there was an ulterior motive—the band pitch—and she'd acknowledged it.
After all, he just needed a natural opening to bring up the band.
"Whatever."
He tossed the hanger over a chair and flopped onto the bed. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he stretched for his charging smartphone and fired off a LINE to Sakuya.
"Ah..."
Sakuya's reply oozed excitement, and Tae-il's fingers trembled as he hesitated over his response. Memories overlapped with the time he'd gone bass hunting with Ayane—thinking his outfit was fine enough, only to gawk at hers at the front door. Self-loathing had hit hard. If he'd just looked sloppy himself, fine. But dragging her down too? That was straight-up rude. Betraying her expectations.
"..."
After agonizing, he bolted up from the bed, back to the mirror, meticulously picking his outfit. Until the bus time was cutting it close.
Over and over.
The meeting spot. Tae-il had gone all out on his look—anyone could tell he was date-ready. Beige shirt jacket over a plain white short-sleeve tee, black slacks, front hair waxed into place. He usually skipped accessories as too fiddly, but today? He'd "borrowed" (stolen) a watch from his dad's closet and dug out the gold necklace from his birthday. Max effort.
"Waiting long?"
Playing it cool. Acting nonchalant. Feigning indifference. Trying to look chill while scrolling bass covers by Shoko on his phone—then Sakuya's voice hit him.
He looked up.
"Yup."
Their eyes met, and Sakuya giggled, raising a hand in a playful wave.
"..."
Tae-il blinked in silence.
"Sakuya...?"
"What, lukewarm reaction? Don't like it?"
His less-than-dramatic response made her awkwardly twirl a strand of hair.
Ponytail. Sakuya's signature style. Even on radio shows with voice actors, ponytail quizzes always pointed to her. Outside sleep scenes or fanservice bits, her hair had changed only for the festival and beach episodes. And now... this would be the third time.
"N-no! It suits you! Looks pretty! For real!"
"Yeah?"
Even his fumbling praise made her smile shyly as she let the strand drop. A soft half-updo with gentle waves—pure and innocent vibes.
"You hit up the salon for this since morning?"
"Haha..."
Tae-il let out a dry laugh. Good call. Recalling Ayane's getup, he mentally high-fived himself for going all-in. Clothes make the man, after all. Regaining his composure, he flashed a mischievous grin and teased her.
"What's the concept today? Innocent?"
"Innocent sexy?"
Sakuya covered her mouth with a fresh, cute smile he'd never seen. Tae-il blanked out without realizing.
She caught his stare and asked shamelessly,
"So, Tae-il? How do I look? C'mon, spill your review—I'm dying to know."
Her lashes seemed extra lush today—maybe makeup?—hooking his soul like bait. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"You're blindingly beautiful. Happy?"
"Ahaha! Keep the compliments coming. I don't dress up like this often, y'know?"
True enough. Especially a skirt on Sakuya—outside her uniform, no media mix had ever shown it once. Gray sleeveless top with a tasteful neckline and cardigan, short white skirt-shorts that hinted at what lay beneath. As the band's tallest, she flaunted her killer proportions with an innocent twist.
"Phew. You wear stuff like this a lot?"
"Nah?"
She fidgeted with the hem awkwardly at his question.
"I only do pants usually. Skirts feel a bit..."
"Embarrassing?"
"Yeah."
She scratched her lightly flushed cheek, sheepish.
"That's why these aren't a full skirt..."
Suddenly, she hiked up the sheer hem.
"Hey—! What the hell outta nowhere—!"
Tae-il panicked, shrugging off his jacket to cover her lower half—then froze. Sakuya burst out laughing.
"Ahaha! Gotcha good? Relax, it's skirt-shorts."
"Sk-skirt-shorts...?"
"Yup. Like culottes with shorts underneath."
She giggled like a kid who'd pulled off a prank.
"Haa. You shaved ten years off my life..."
He sighed in relief, patting his chest. Good thing it was a weekday, far from the station—few eyes around.
"Don't prank me like that. I almost died..."
"Ahaha!"
Satisfied with his aged, spot-ridden shock, she beamed.
"Sweet. Mission accomplished seeing you freak. Look forward to next time?"
"Do it again and I'll actually get mad."
"Shy guy? It's give and take."
"Give and take?"
I wore something embarrassing, so you step up too. Her brazen logic left Tae-il dumbfounded, laughing like a madman.
"S-stop laughing! I was super embarrassed wearing this!"
"You're an idiot? If it embarrassed you, don't wear it. You're pretty without a skirt anyway."
"W-well, true..."
She accepted the praise but averted her eyes slyly. Like there was some huge reason she couldn't voice to him. But her mouth twitched, and she spilled.
"...B-but, letting cute clothes rot away would be a waste!"
"Rot away?"
"My cousin got it for me as a high school entrance gift this year."
The issue? Sakuya never wore stuff like this. Sleeveless was fine—even in Okinawa—but that was sporty and open, not innocent. And that was back when her chest was smaller, of course.
"Anyway, too embarrassed to wear it till now, but I didn't wanna let it go to waste, so I tried. Got a problem?"
"Nope. No complaints."
As she crossed her arms and pouted, Tae-il fought to keep his gaze from dipping, forcing a wry smile and shaking his head. She wore something she'd never dared before... today of all days.
He pocketed his phone in his jacket and steeled himself.
"Alright, time's wasting—where to first?"
"Wha, don't guys decide that?"
"No gender roles here."
He'd planned bookstore or manga café, but her outfit screamed waste. Maybe rush-book movie tickets...?
His date plan was derailing from the jump. What fun movies are out now...?
Summer meant horror flicks ruling theaters, but Tae-il hated them—no tolerance. Summer break had anime films too, solid picks for otaku Sakuya maybe. As he racked his brain, a café sign across the street caught his eye.
"Hot, huh?"
"Yeah. Cousin swore the fabric was cool, but nah. Cardigan's kinda scratchy too."
"Fashion's like that."
Looks come at a comfort cost. He held out his hand.
"Why your hand?"
"To hold. Peak heat right now. Let's café it till it cools, chat."
"Heat on heat? You really winged this?"
"I didn't?"
He couldn't admit her outfit nuked his plans. "Fine. Your effort's cute today, so this body'll follow orders."
"What're you on about."
He chuckled. She mirrored it, lightly placing her hand atop his. Eyes turned their way, but any guys eyeing her would back off now. No mood-killers from outsiders today—not till he pitched the band. He'd keep her thrilled all day.
"Like movies?"
"Marvel or anime films? Yeah, I go. Japanese stuff? Eh..."
"Figured."
"Treating me like a kid?"
"Never."
Perfect. He scrapped and rebuilt the plan from scratch. But first...
Cool café, kill time. A month—long or short?—had packed them with dense moments. LINE and calls couldn't cover everything.
Sakuya might not have much backed up, but I do.
He'd kept band stuff from her—didn't wanna mess with Interhigh. She was sharp, never prying about it. Rip the band-aid first. Dates or whatever, real bonds started with open talk.
Meanwhile, as Tae-il and Sakuya crossed to the café...
One block back, behind a signboard. Ayane—bread hat and sunglasses disguise—squished Yuuya's obstructing head from above.
"Um, senpai? You're in the way—back off? It's hot."
"No."
Yuuya—white beanie, round glasses disguise—ignored her, craning stubbornly.
"They're moving."
"Huh? Kyaa! I almost fell! Seriously...!"
"Quiet. Too noisy, kouhai."
"This is all 'cause of who... Hngh."
Endure. Ayane etched endure in her mind, gripping the sign again.
"Where're they headed?"
"Dunno."
Hand-in-hand, they screamed couple. Feeling robbed of her spot by Sakuya, Ayane tasted true NTR fury.
"Grr! Why's Shin-jjang dating Sakuraba of all people!"
"Shh. We're tailing now."
"Got it!"
The suspicious duo trailed Tae-il and Sakuya. Far enough the targets noticed nothing, but passersby debated calling the cops.
"Ah! They're going into the café!"
"Trouble."
Yuuya clicked her tongue. Following inside risked exposure. Scanning, she spotted a fast-food joint opposite—with three floors.
"There...!"
"Watch from above? But if they sit inside, no view..."
"Can't hear anyway."
"No, visuals are key in stalking! My binoculars are wasted!"
"..."
Noisy. Endlessly griping over who-knows-what. Shouldn't have brought her...
Yuuya was already regretting dragging Ayane along.