The Onslaught of Everyday Life
Tae-il trudged home on unsteady legs. The lingering trace of cream pasta that Sakuya had playfully smeared near his mouth refused to fade, no matter how vigorously he brushed his teeth. With no other choice, he took a quick shower and collapsed into bed.
The room was silent. His parents hadn't returned from work yet, so not even the tiniest noise disturbed the quiet. The stillness sharpened his senses. He trembled. His tongue quivered inside his mouth. The slightest lapse in focus brought back Sakuya's mark, tormenting him relentlessly.
In the end...
"Hah...!"
Tae-il bolted upright in bed. Feeling suffocated, he flung open the window to gulp fresh air—and spotted Ayane's room, dark and unlit.
"Already asleep...?"
He tilted his head. Ayane usually turned in early, but lately her bass practice had pushed bedtime back a bit.
"Well, even she needs practice-off days."
Tae-il had no intention of forcing an eight-hour daily grind on her like some music maniac. If anything, he was relieved, leaning on the windowsill to check his backlog of messages. He swiftly deleted junk ads and spam alerts, scrolling down until he found Rena's practice video.
Tae-il hit play immediately.
In the video, Rena practiced 16th notes with a metronome running, tilting her head repeatedly in doubt. Her strokes on the hi-hat and snare were razor-sharp on the beat. The issue, like with any drumming newbie, was that her left and right hands didn't sync organically yet. After a while, the rhythm naturally started to drift. Her body just wasn't keeping up with her head, so to speak.
Each time the beat slipped, Rena stopped, repeating the section. Even when she nailed it, adding ride or bass drum proved tough due to her physical limits. Still, her diligent practice—gradually imprinting the rhythm into her body—was so admirable Tae-il wanted to hug her.
Practice was the hardest part of any instrument, after all. Back in his real-world music academy days, he'd heard endless whining from bandmates: "I hate practicing but wanna rock the stage." Practice was boring, no fun, and the sense of accomplishment sucked.
Tae-il had worried that Rena, as an artistic genius type, might struggle most with practice's monotony. But it was needless concern.
"Start with praise..."
He scrutinized the video, praising her solid points while pinpointing habits and errors to fix.
Next was Iris's photos. Her messages were nothing special—just a feast of glamorous dinner pics from some fancy restaurant that left Tae-il impressed.
"How does she eat like that and stay slim...?"
Remembering how even Sakuya had held back a bit today, he let out a wry chuckle.
And finally, Ayane. Contrary to expectations, no messages from her at all.
"Weird. She was blowing up my phone this morning..."
He glanced outside. Ayane's room remained pitch black.
"Whatever."
He considered texting out of worry but dismissed it—waking her would be rude. Tossing his phone by the pillow, he flopped back down, lacing his fingers behind his head and staring at the ceiling.
Sakuya's recruitment was a success. A resounding one—but far more exhausting than anticipated.
What happened after...?
The torrent of kisses had blanked his mind. Sakuya had ravaged him thoroughly, claiming it was a rare chance. Really ravaged. Tae-il had genuinely thought she'd devour him whole.
"Haa."
Recalling the vivid sensation, he sighed unconsciously, touching his lips. The phantom of her tongue prying in made his face burn.
"I'm going insane..."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Toward the live house finale, he'd bumped into Sarina, whom he hadn't taught drums for in ages. She seemed to know all about the floor drama, grinning mischievously at Sakuya in a way that shocked him—not the Sarina he knew.
Thankfully, she didn't pry. Instead, she snuck up while Sakuya wasn't looking and whispered in his ear, "Use protection, okay?"
When he snapped, she burst out laughing. Bonus: she treated his flustered reaction like obvious guilt.
Still, she ended up supportive.
"Keep at the band. Want intros to live houses frequented by scouts?"
He turned down Sarina's rare offer to help. Scouts would come calling anyway—the members were star-studded enough for idol offers over band ones, maybe.
Timing was perfect, too.
Right around now, they'd be forming that idol band behind the scenes...
Offers might fly from there.
"Fuu."
He exhaled long, shaking off worries.
"Others can wait."
Piles of tasks loomed. He'd shelve today's chaos for now—even if he still didn't know how to face Sakuya.
"My job's clear."
Get her a fitting guitar, practice recording songs. Successful busking by autumn meant tight rehearsal schedules.
Plus...
"BARD's Dome Arena tour..."
Izumi's tickets remained. Soon. Time was short to take the full band to meet her.
It felt long, but the starting line was in sight.
"Alright. We'll nail it. Fighting."
As Tae-il quietly vowed success, his bedside phone buzzed.
"Ayane?"
He checked hurriedly—not her, Sakuya.
"Eek!"
The passionate kiss flashed back, flushing his face as he froze.
"Naughty..."
She knew everything and still sent that. Infuriating. But he bowed his head. She held the power.
After agonizing, he poked the screen.
Even he knew it was half-assed. Still...
Sakuya replied cheerfully. But then...
What had she said before parting? No booze, yet his memory was gone—Tae-il broke into cold sweats, ominous vibes hitting hard.
He fired back frantically.
"Argh! Why so many typos!"
Fingers flew anxiously, but sweat caused endless errors.
"Wait! Hey! Sakuya! Aaaah!"
Tae-il spammed her name, but the "1" read receipt vanished mockingly.
"Kwaaak!"
Frustration and dread tore a scream from him. Rolling on the bed like a madman, clawing his hair—it was pure comedy.
"What the hell did she say...!"
Terrifying. But until tomorrow, he'd never know.
Lights flickered. Tae-il turning on his room light.
"Shin-ssi, back home."
Ayane mumbled from her burrito-wrapped bed. Phone on, time check—she saw he'd been out late.
"Six hours..."
Including the movie, about eight. Time she'd lost track of him. Thinking how shameless modern couples got anywhere, anytime, Ayane feared what might've happened. Especially with that Sakuya from Interhigh, blatantly seducing him physically.
"Tch."
The memory still boiled her blood; she clicked her tongue, gnawing her thumbnail, thinking she should've fire-extinguished one of them back then.
Her gaze drifted from her phone to Sakuya's messages.
Crunch.
Crunch crunch.
Crunch.
All from Sakuya. Every word dripped condescension. "Line"? What line? Ayane didn't know—and claiming no crossing might be deception itself.
"Ha."
She gingerly touched her mangled thumb. Rage surged suddenly. Pathetic, feeling dumb for not clapping back at such lowbrow taunts.
"Bitch. She doesn't even know how hard I've worked to keep things with Shin-ssi..."
Out-of-nowhere intruder, too cocky. Enviable, too—getting so close without struggling like her.
"Maybe I should've gone after Shin-ssi like that vixen from the start..."
Opportunities aplenty: middle school bullying, high school entrance flop, onsen incident. Deep bonds where crossing lines seemed okay.
Where'd it go wrong?
Ayane calmly swam upstream through memory's salmon river. Around middle school start.
Unlike her isolated elementary days, she'd made friends. Friendships were exhausting—constant favor management cut time with Tae-il.
If this were a dating sim, she'd max stats and relations effortlessly. She was that skilled.
Tae-il saw her "in-sider" shift as the brighter original she wanted. Reality differed slightly.
When was it? Ayane paddled further back. Upper elementary. Surfing trends, deep in SNS.
She stumbled on an otaku rant: childhood friend always loses in harem tropes.
"Pfft, no way."
Dismissed as joke. Pure cliche, like soldier's pre-death love vow flag. Celebs married childhood sweethearts all the time.
But hindsight was harsher.
First...
"Shin-ssi, you'll always be with Ayane forever, right?"
"Eh, might be tough."
"Wh-why!?"
"I'm Korean, y'know."
No shared nationality. Parents' jobs or retirement could send him back anytime.
Kid Ayane hated breaks— he'd go to Korea. But he always returned casually, family trips resuming. Anxiety lingered, though—sleepless nights fearing no return.
"Gotta enlist when older..."
"Enlist? Like Self-Defense Forces?"
"Kinda. Mandatory for Korean guys."
Shocker. Civvie to soldier? His casual attitude traumatized her.
"That's far off, right?"
His sand dune pat still vivid.
Distance breeds emotional drift. Tae-il had more separation risks than she thought.
She began fretting her "childhood friend" slot like that dismissed post.
And the killer blow.
"Childhood friends raised together often see each other as siblings, losing romantic/sexual appeal..."
Westermarck effect. Hypothesis, debated, but plausible. Already shaky relation plus no "woman" vibe? Disaster for Ayane.
So she pondered.
"Too close to Shin-ssi and..."
Might kill attraction.
Worse...
"Isn't our girl too clingy with Taichi?"
"Nooo! Mommy bad! Trying to split Ayane and Shin-ssi! Witch!"
"What're you on about..."
"Ahaha..."
Yuuna's valid point. Too babyish—risking "needy little sis" demotion over girlfriend.
"Can't have that."
Panicking, Ayane sought balance: alluring woman without losing childhood bond.
Just confess? But tropes warned caution—too much mutual knowledge meant irreparable breaks common.
Instead, she played model student. Studied ignored textbooks, befriended mismatches, faked brightness.
Naturally, contact with Tae-il dwindled. But after-school was same as ever.
Appeal hidden charms only he knew.
Only Shin-ssi knows my gap moe!
Her world flipped dramatically. His didn't.
Lacking social flair? Tae-il stayed solo. Few approached; bonds fizzled quick.
Ayane secretly smirked.
Shin-ssi doesn't need others.
She was his sole vital tie. Relief. Complacency. Self-delusion: all flowing smoothly.
Until unknowns swarmed him.
"Yeah."
Sakuya was right. Ayane admitted it. At this rate, she'd lose to her—or that damn blonde shrimp.
"I don't know Shin-ssi well."
Faked knowing. Childhood friend excuses, secret memories.
Admit: clueless on BARD, Sakuya, others orbiting him.
Crack.
Faith's wall fissured. Absolute trust crumbles uncontrollably once cracked—like Jericho.
It collapsed utterly, veil gone.
"Haha."
Laughter. Tears.
Illusions lifted; unseen truths emerged.
"Ah."
Her edge vanished. But one unique weapon remained.
Accepting reality, Ayane flung blankets, leaping from bed. She bolted out in pajamas, thundering downstairs.
Yuuna, mid-dressing, spotted her.
"Ayane? Nighttime—where to?"
"Sleeping at Shin-ssi's!"
"What?"
No time to stop—barefoot to Tae-il's.
Door unlocked, past entry. Yu Hana and Shin Young-hoon absent; dark house.
Upstairs undeterred. His door, plaque by railing.
She flung it open, charging in.
Tae-il there.
"Ayane?"
Head bowed, she bottled surging emotions deep.
As bed-rolling Tae-il startled up, sorted Ayane lunged, hugging tight.
"Uwak!"
Unable to brace, he toppled onto bed. Skull throbbed, but before protest, Ayane buried face in his chest, clamping his waist.
"Uh, hey... Ayane? Did I mess up?"
Slight Sakuya-date guilt made him force a smile. She shook head side-to-side.
Declared:
"Ayane sleeping here tonight."
"Huh?"
"Night night."
"Ayane...?"
Absurd plot twist left Tae-il gaping at clung Ayane. Grip said no release soon. Face hidden, at least.
"Haa."
He scratched head awkwardly.
"What wind blew this in..."
"..."
No reply—just tighter hug.
Wry smile; he patted her back.
"Okay. Let's."
"Really?"
She popped head up. Eyes damper than usual, face flushed red.
Wry nod.
"Yeah. Felt hard sleeping alone tonight anyway."
"..."
Horror flick. Sakuya's smug line resurfaced.
"Muuuh!"
Ayane fumed, cicada-sticking to his side.
"Shin-ssi, sleep with Ayane every night from now!"
"What? No, even so that's..."
"Four nights a week!"
"Why sudden?"
"Three!"
"Boys girls seven no shared seats, y'know? At our age..."
"Two! Pleeease?"
Begging puppy eyes. Her uncharacteristic stubbornness softened his refusal; pained groan.
Finally.
"Uh, if parents okay...?"
"Yup!"
He'd set an unwinnable condition.
Morning. Track-suited Sakuya beamed at the entryway.
"Yup! Morning!"
"..."
Phone-woken from deep sleep, Tae-il scowled. Ayane beside, dozy but gum-like on his waist.
Clueless duo met Sakuya's sly query.
"Told ya yesterday?"
"...What?"
"Dawn workouts daily from tomorrow. Forgot?"
Mind snapped alert.
Did I agree to that?
Disbelieving glare; Sakuya pulled phone, played recording.
"Yeah. Forgot to mention at live house—too busy kissing. One more condition."
"K-Ki-Kiiiiiss!?"
"Daily dawn workouts, steady."
"Euuuh...."
"Okay?"
"Wha? Ju-Just now... O-Okay...."
Sakuya grinned, hand out.
"Ready to run, leader?"
"Shin-ssi? Kiss? What story? Explain, right?"
"..."
Side stabbed. Not just him alert—Ayeane pinched grinning.
Left Ayane, right Sakuya. Liu Bei's dragon-phoenix duo envied.
Tae-il looked up. Dawn sky crystal clear.
Life...
Suddenly, escaping this for a dawn run didn't seem half bad.