Guitar 101
“Shall we start with the basic structure of the guitar first?”
“Yes, teacher!”
“Haha, what’s with calling me teacher like some amateur…”
Tae-il flashed an awkward smile at Sakuya, who was suddenly acting like a model student. Still, the word didn’t sound half bad—his lips twitched upward in a reluctant grin. Sakuya caught it and let out a deliberate little giggle.
Being this close to Tae-il, faces nearly touching, felt way better than she’d imagined. Ahh… if only.
Sakuya felt a pang of regret that they were in the open art room with everyone around. The old school building’s art room across from the main one felt tucked away yet strangely exposed. What if it had been a more secluded, dimly lit spot instead?
Would Tae-il have felt it too?
She tried crossing her legs or folding her arms to accentuate her chest—poses that screamed sexual appeal. Yep, no dice.
With everyone watching in this wide-open space, Tae-il’s eyes never strayed to her thighs, let alone her chest.
Ahh… I wanted a private, intimate lesson with just Tae-il…
True to her voracious reading habits, a flood of references sprang to mind.
No rush, though. Plenty of opportunities ahead. I’m not some idiot like Katsuragi who fumbles even the chances she gets.
Rushing things could backfire and ruin their rapport—Sakuya wasn’t about to shoot herself in the foot. There were plenty of rivals, after all. She took a deep breath to steady her racing heart.
“Ready to start?”
Tae-il propped the guitar on his thigh and asked. Sakuya, who’d been listening intently, glanced back slyly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Fine by me. But what about them…?”
Iris, the target of Sakuya’s pointed finger, was munching away on Pocky with a grin. “Nyahaha, ignore us~.”
To the ever-watchful Sakuya, Iris waved gently—a reassuring “don’t mind me.”
And then.
“Hey, gloomy girl. Don’t tell me you’re team bamboo shoot?”
“And what, Honjo, you’re team mushroom?”
Zzap.
A spark flew between the two, with Iris caught squarely in the middle.
“You know what?” Ayane puffed out her chest proudly and crunched into a bamboo shoot snack. “Shin-kun’s team bamboo shoot, just like Ayane!”
Rena’s face fell at the declaration. “Poor Shin. He was probably team mushroom, forced to convert because of his childhood friend…”
“That’s not it! Shin-kun started with bamboo shoots first, so Ayane converted!?”
“Wait, for real? Hey, Shin! I can’t let this slide!?”
Suddenly dragged into it, Sakuya turned back to Tae-il. “That’s what they say?”
“Uh…”
“For the record, I’m team mushroom. What about you, Tae-il?”
“Honestly, I don’t care much either way…”
Tae-il did eat Takenoko no Sato more often than most. Flavor aside, kids back in the day preferred Kinoko no Yama because the bamboo shoot ones looked kinda like poop. So, whenever picking from the last snacks left at kindergarten or school, Tae-il naturally gravitated toward the bamboo shoots more. Ayane had just misunderstood.
Sakuya nodded at his explanation and turned back. “That’s what he says?”
“Liar!”
Ayane, realizing the truth, plunged into shock. A massive thunderbolt even cracked over her head.
“Liar, you idiot…!”
“Ayane?”
“Ayane and Shin-kun’s ten years… what was it all for…”
Iris, mid-squirrel-like munch on her snacks, tilted her head at Ayane’s dramatics. “Wait, is that really such a big deal…?”
“It is!”
“R-Really?”
“Iris, you don’t know about the historic Kinoko-Takenoko War!?”
“N-No idea…”
“No way, Iris, you seriously didn’t know!?”
“Rena-chan too!?”
It was like Korea’s jjajangmyeon vs. jjamppong debate, or bu eating vs. dipping sauce—full-on war erupted.
Iris, under fire from both sides, shot Tae-il a pleading look.
“Uh, so this is the head of the guitar.”
Ignoring her, Tae-il pointed to the headstock in his hands.
“Shin Tae-il, you…!”
Iris wailed his name in betrayal, but Tae-il pretended not to notice and launched into the basics for Sakuya.
“You turn these pegs to tune it, and unless it’s some weird body shape, most brands engrave their logo here on the front or back.”
“Hmm. How do you read this?”
“Ibanez. One of Japan’s most famous guitar brands.”
He added that they had tons of affordable entry-level models, perfect for beginners.
“So if I buy a guitar, I should go for this brand?”
“If that’s what Sakuya wants?”
Tae-il set the guitar down, got into position, and lightly plucked a string. “Honestly, I’m a practical guy. I don’t put much stock in ‘first guitar’ sentimentality…”
If it worked, a cheap one was less hassle.
“Aren’t expensive guitars just better?”
“They usually have superior materials, better finishing, and more features, yeah.”
Sure, price affected sound quality. But unless it was total garbage, the differences were subtle—even pros struggled without a distinct character. And once you tweaked amps or effects for tone? Forget distinguishing them.
“Cheap ones do suck more for dialing in tone, though. More finicky.”
“Thanks. Still lost.”
“Haha. You’ll get it once you try it yourself.”
Tae-il smiled wryly, reminiscing about his own newbie days. “Alright, next up: neck and body. The neck’s what you grip most when playing.”
Neglect it, and it warps—messing up sound and tuning. Humidity control was key.
“Then the body. Most complex part. Shape can ID the brand or change shred difficulty entirely…”
The explanations could drag, but Sakuya hung on every word.
Others might not notice, but she was quietly thrilled with this time.
His subtly upturned lips. Voice pitching higher, faster with excitement. Eyes sparkling as they flicked between guitar and her.
He really loves this.
Sakuya smiled wryly at Tae-il’s rare, boyish enthusiasm.
Once the structure rundown wrapped…
“Everything I just covered is detailed here too. Reference this.”
Tae-il handed over an illustrated guitar anatomy guide.
“Hmm.”
Mentioning all those terms meant they’d come up a lot in lessons. Sakuya memorized them on the spot.
“Okay. Got it all. Next?”
“Already?”
“What, don’t believe me? Quiz me.”
“N-No need…”
Tae-il looked dubious but pulled out another sheet and passed it over: six strings with numbered dots above, plus hand diagrams beside.
“Guitar chord charts?”
“Spot on.”
He nodded and showed his fretting hand. “Compare to the drawing.”
“Uh, so… C chord?”
“Correct.”
Index on 2nd string, middle on 4th, ring on 5th.
“But it looks backwards from the pic?”
“Player’s perspective.”
“Try it yourself—feeling’s what clicks.” He nestled the guitar into her lap.
“Hold on…”
Sakuya gripped it standard-style, then matched the diagram to frets.
“Aha!”
Her eyes widened as the drawing overlaid perfectly on her fretboard.
“That’s why. Got it—this is C.”
“Now strum down with the pick.”
“L-Like this?”
She swept from high to low strings—a slightly buzzy twang rang out. Tingaling.
“Again. Skip the low E this time.”
Diring.
“That right?”
Tae-il nodded with a finger snap. “Good. Next…”
He guided her through D, E, F, G, A, B—hands brushing, guiding, touching naturally as they pressed close.
“Ngh!”
Ayane ground her teeth from the sidelines, fuming.
“Got it now?”
“Hmm. Not really. Sorry, one more time?”
“Sure…”
Sakuya was smart. Even in the free-spirited class, her top grades proved it—unlike Rena.
And Tae-il had a go-to praise for her: “Real idiots can’t even handle PE like that. Sakuya’s sharp. Great pickup too.”
She recognized her flaws through practice, mastered her body to fix them. Not something dimwits could pull off.
“This right…?”
“Haha, no—like this. See?”
“Aha! Got it!”
She’d just memorized the whole chart perfectly. Sakuya wasn’t dumb—quite the opposite.
So.
“No matter how you slice it, Sakuraba’s totally flirting with Shin-kun, right?”
“W-Well…?”
“Ayane memorized it quick—Sakuraba couldn’t possibly forget!”
Ayane refused to believe Sakuya would fumble a single chord like that. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.
Yet Sakuya stuck out her tongue like a ditz, smiled apologetically, and “messed up” again.
Twang.
“Oops, sorry. Chords are trickier than I thought. Fingers hurt a bit too.”
“F’s a notorious wall—even pros call it the wall of tears.”
“Really? Phew, good.”
Sakuya beamed. Ayane, boiling over, pounded Iris’s shoulder to vent.
“L-Look! That fox is totally doing it on purpose… ngh!”
“Quit hitting. Hurts, Ayane.”
“She’s faking it to skinship with Shin-kun all natural-like—gyaaah!”
Thud thud.
The more Sakuya savored the subtle touches, the redder Iris’s shoulder got—for no reason.
At this rate, it’d be black and blue. Iris grabbed Ayane’s flailing hands in panic.
“Just curious, but… Ayane, you really memorized all the chords?”
“Huh? Oh, p-pretty much?”
Fingers sore from bass, Ayane air-guitared instead.
“?”
Drummer Rena tilted her head, clueless. Iris eyed the hand knowingly and nodded.
“Ooh. Our Ayane’s gotten pretty slick.”
“Duh!”
Ayane forgot her rage, puffed up her flat chest at the praise. “Ayane practiced tons, but live it takes more force, so some slips…”
“Hehe. Chromatics?”
“60, 80 BPM’s doable?”
Over 100, and errors piled up—no clean runs. She grimaced.
“Fine. Steady progress matters. Right?”
“Yeah. Shin-kun said the same.”
“Heh.”
Iris had worried about her low energy today. False alarm. Ayane was impressive.
Too impressive—Iris mischievously pinched her soft cheek. Hard.
“Ow!”
Retaliatory, with a squeeze. “What, Iris! That hurts!”
“Hehe. ‘Cause Ayane’s cute.”
“Eww, gross.”
“Tch, you’d call it gross even if Shin Tae-il did it?”
“Nope? I’d jump him if he did.”
“She’s a natural at pissing people off…”
“Having fun, huh.”
Rena, head on Iris’s thigh watching the squabble, yawned and grabbed a snack.
Peaceful. She tuned out the petty bickering overhead, focusing on her smartphone.
A YouTube drum tutorial.
She nails it. I’d be wiped hitting like that…
Rena rubbed her hands—callused like an artist’s. Her left slid over the right palm to her slender wrist.
Smooth, delicate unlike the video instructor’s sturdy ones. Not bulky or anything…
Video was ~30 minutes. Accounting for edits, the teacher played over an hour straight.
With breaks, sure.
But as an academy pro, not long ones. And after 20 minutes rest, Rena’s wrists still trembled.
Stamina and recovery gap.
Should I exercise…?
Speaking of, an athletic type lounged nearby. Rena looked up.
Just then, Sakuya jolted, shoulders heaving in surprise. “S-Sorry! Used too much force maybe…”
“It’s fine.”
“Really? No scratches?”
“More worried about your hand, Sakuya. Pretty thing like that—scar would suck.”
“P-Pretty, what…”
Urk. Rena dry-heaved at Tae-il’s gentle tone.
Sakuya’s swishing ponytail looked like a female courting a male. Eyes narrowed.
“What a load of crap.”
Everyone was grating today. Rena quelled her twitching brow and closed her eyes.
Friends or not, she couldn’t stomach this lovey-dovey nonsense.