Departure (3) – Hypocrisy
Hypocrisy. Freaking out when others do it, but totally nonchalant when it's yourself. Tae-il's casual touches had a bit of that vibe.
If it were the other way around, there'd at least be an excuse—he'd gotten used to women thanks to Ayane. But sadly, Tae-il was the complete opposite. What the hell had turned him into such a monster? Sadly, no one in this life could answer that.
Iris froze for a few seconds, her face uncharacteristically flushed at Tae-il's proposal, delivered a tad too close for comfort. Meanwhile, Kiriko wrestled internally with whether to report this to Zenjiro.
“F-Fine, whatever! Let's give it a shot!”
Iris shouted with exaggerated flair, and Tae-il nodded, smoothly stepping back to give her space.
“Good. Sakuya, you better brace yourself too. Iris's vocals are a one-of-a-kind gem.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
As expected. The biggest hurdle isn't Ayane—it's Iris, Sakuya thought, clicking her tongue inwardly. But at the same time, she felt a spark of anticipation.
She compared the otherworldly singing Iris had shown at karaoke to the live performance she'd felt at Central Dogma with Tae-il.
The backing track and sound system at karaoke were way inferior, of course.
Iris's talent was undeniable—even to her—but it hadn't quite reached the level Tae-il intended, the one she'd sensed at the live house. Honestly, comparing them like this felt a little unfair anyway. A fair comparison needed a proper stage. At least until then.
I'll hold off on judging Arisugawa Iris for now.
Sakuya was secretly curious why Tae-il defended Iris so fiercely.
“Ugh, seriously. This is all your fault, Shin Tae-il. Why does this embarrass me so much...?”
“Hahaha.”
Her face burning with shame, Iris fanned herself vigorously to cool down. Tae-il chuckled lightly, murmuring to himself.
She's embarrassed now, but someday Iris will be proud of it. She'll be the shining star vocalist in our band...
Our band. Thinking of everyone— not just Iris—as true members now made Tae-il's lips curl up involuntarily. His chest tickled with excitement.
Then.
“Ah.”
A sudden thought made Tae-il lower his gaze briefly.
“What's up?”
Noticing his shift, Iris peeked at him worriedly despite her own embarrassment.
“N-Nah, it's nothing. Just something that popped into my head.”
“Ooh, what? Tell me!”
“Haha, hold on. Let's finish cleaning up first.”
He'd put it off until all the members gathered, but the time had come for a decision that could no longer be delayed. Once a band formed, it was inevitable.
Time to name the band.
With Tae-il joining, it was no longer a girls' band, so the old name wouldn't work. There were cases like Mrs. where only one woman remained after others left, rendering it meaningless, but still.
Tae-il wanted the name to mean something. Rock bands originated in the West, and Japan was the first in East Asia to embrace Western culture. Early band names drew heavily from Western influences. Now, with Japan's music market massive and time passed, names varied wildly, not limited to Anglo-American styles. In Asia's kanji cultures, especially, wildly creative names abounded.
Naming methods were diverse: eye-catching words or favorites mashed together without much thought; combining member traits; pure sound over meaning; kanji wordplay unique to the region; anagrams or initials from member names. Endless varieties existed.
But band names defined identity and became fans' labels, lighthearted or serious. Tae-il's principle: all members must agree.
With everyone finally together, he figured now was the perfect timing.
“Anyone got more questions for me? Band stuff or whatever—I'll answer what I can.”
“Then...”
Sakuya glanced around cautiously before raising her hand again. Ayane shot her a you again? look for jumping in so bluntly. Tae-il grinned and nodded.
“Haha, fire away. What's on your mind, Sakuya?”
“Nothing big...”
Her questions were more confirmations than curiosities: Was this really a pro band aiming for major leagues, not just a school hobby? Was Iris locked in as vocalist? If they debuted major, how would profits split? Were there promo plans to build buzz? And so on—petty but crucial details.
“Iris and I haven't discussed this much, so this is just my take, but...”
Some were premature, but Tae-il answered sincerely. Sakuya looked mostly satisfied. Iris too. It showed Tae-il hadn't formed this band on a whim, just chasing music.
“Um, Shin-ssi! Ayane has a tiny question too...”
“Go ahead.”
“Hey, Shin! Me too! Not important, just a bit about drums...”
“Instrument questions are fine—don't hold back, Rena.”
With Sakuya breaking the ice, the quiet duo—Rena and Ayane—piped up with their own queries. Tae-il answered what he could within reason, suggesting group talks for the rest, pulling in Iris, Sakuya, and even Kiriko if needed. Kiriko tossed in some light ones, bored. Iris was the only one without questions.
“Nothing else?”
Everyone nodded. Finally. Tae-il sighed, a bit drained from the Q&A.
“Alright, assuming we're good, let's move on?”
No objections. The mood felt ripe.
“Ahem.”
Tae-il cleared his throat.
“Before we dive into practice, let's chat lightly about our band name.”
“What? You guys haven't named it yet?”
“We waited till everyone was here. This is our first full lineup meeting, technically.”
Sakuya feigned surprise. Frequent interactions made it feel longer, but this was their first as a complete band.
Tae-il scanned the room.
“Any ideas? If something sticks, we'll vote and make it official.”
A murmur rippled through the art room at the sudden naming session.
Too abrupt? Ayane seemed indifferent, just glancing around. Rena and Sakuya chatted mildly, but low energy. Maybe because they weren't here purely for the band.
But one member lit up.
“Finally!”
Iris pumped her fist and stood.
“I've been dying to name it—my mouth's been itching!”
“Hahaha.”
Band names mattered. Unique ones stuck in memory—even if you didn't know the music, you knew the name. Get that far, and eventually, you'd hear the songs, like it or not. Tae-il eyed Iris's naming sense with cautious hope.
Canonically, it was disastrously bad—but uniquely eye-catching.
“Wait! I'll show you something genius!”
“Sure.”
Iris whipped out her smartphone, eyes gleaming. She had a list ready. Tae-il hoped it wasn't too weird, then checked on quiet Ayane.
In the original, Ayane clashed hardest with Iris over names, ultimately overpowered by her intensity. Still, Ayane's cute, subtle suggestions intrigued him.
“Ayane, got anything?”
“Huh? W-Wait...”
Caught off-guard, she scrambled.
“W-Well...”
She mumbled, then whispered too soft for others.
“H-How about Shin-ssi and the Kids?”
“Uh...”
Tae-il's lukewarm reaction froze her face. Fidgeting, she asked,
“B-Bad?”
“Kinda dated for these times...”
Too retro. She'd thought it clever, but now sulked. Tae-il couldn't help it—not just outdated. That style was old Anglo-American, often ending in “Boys.” But their gender ratio screamed “Girls,” which felt off. “Child” sucked too. Worst,
We're already touchy about the gender mix— that name would kill me...
Global era. Even Japan's isolated scene required English alongside Japanese. Sensitivities abounded; Japan lagged but followed trends. Avoid controversy.
Plus...
Tae-il didn't fancy plastering his name on it—he wasn't that influential.
The star is Iris.
All precious, but she was core. From the start, this band existed for her vocals; every song composed with her in mind.
Members saw him as core, but.
It's not my personal band anyway.
Arrogant. Ayane might yes-man it, but others wouldn't. He trusted that.
“Muu. Ayane'll think more...”
“Take your time.”
Plenty of time. Practice and dinner plans tonight—he was chill.
“No rush. If nothing clicks, just tell me later.”
“Found it! Shin Tae-il, how's this?”
Iris bounded over, phone in hand.
She showed him. Expectant, he checked her first pitch. A familiar word jumped out; he rubbed his eyes.
“ZARD?”
“Yep! From my fave BARD—ZARD! Tribute vibe, super cool, right?”
“Out.”
“Why?! What's wrong with it? Sounds great!”
Iris whined, clinging to his neck. She rarely touched him outside teasing, so her desperation for ZARD shone through.
Tae-il glanced at the ceiling. Thump-thump. Her soft pressure made his heart race.
Oblivious, she rallied the indifferent ones.
“Unfair! What do you think? Huh?!”
“Eh, if Iris likes it...”
“Tae-il's that firm against it—must have reasons, right?”
“N-Now that Sakuya mentions it, yeah...?”
“Cowardly! You're with Shin Tae-il! Decide quick, Rena-chan!”
“Uh, wha?”
Rena looked genuinely stumped at excited Iris's demand.
“Too hard...”
“Uragirimono! Say me! Rena-chan's mean!”
Iris pouted. Ayane, feeling left out, pointed to herself.
“Hey, what about Ayane?”
“Why ask so shamelessly? You're Team Shin Tae-il anyway!”
“Ehehe. Busted?”
“Jeeenjaaang!”
Iris threw a tantrum, shaking Tae-il wildly, escalating to a headlock.
“Uwak!”
Her chest pressed to his face; he flushed.
Iris yelled,
“Wake up, Shin Tae-il! Awaken!”
“W-Wake up what? I'm just...”
“If the leader crushes member input like this, just name it Shin Tae-il and the Girls!”
“Huh?”
Ayane, who'd suggested similar, shivered at the sync.
Again? Tae-il countered,
“N-No, even then, the English sounds off...!”
“Ooh, I like Iris's idea though?”
Ayane wavered. With rival Sakuya agreeing, her heart tangled.
“I-I'll go with the majority...”
Rena added meekly.
“Haha, decided then?”
Sakuya grinned; Tae-il yelled desperately,
“No! Absolutely not! I'd die!”
“Why?”
Rena, Western-featured yet English-weakest, tilted her head. Sakuya giggled,
“Rena doesn't get it? Straight English: Tae-il and the Girls or Tae-il's Girls.”
“Ah...”
Realizing, Rena covered her mouth, smirking mischievously. She found Tae-il's potential embarrassment hilarious, public opinion be damned.
Iris seized the moment,
“Perfect! Good vibes inside too! Let's do it!”
“N-Nooo...!”
“Then why not ZARD?”
“Th-That's... just no!”
Despite Iris's torture-by-cling, Tae-il wouldn't budge. He felt wronged.
Of all things...
He'd consider most, but ZARD? No way. Amid countless options, her picking that irked him.