Concert (5): Love, the Eternal Theme
“L-Love?”
“Love.”
Tae-il nodded with the most serious expression on his face.
Love. The ultimate theme that transcends seasons. A subject that began with human history and endures to this day. Worn thin from overuse, yet showing no signs of fading—an all-time legend. That was love.
No one could argue otherwise.
“Kinda out of left field, though…?”
But Iris's reaction was more lukewarm than he'd expected.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Just… love outta nowhere?”
Unlike Tae-il, who had his past-life experience, Iris was still in the full bloom of her youth. To her, love was an utterly embarrassing word and sentiment.
As Tae-il kept emphasizing the word love, Iris blushed and scratched her cheek. (For the record, Tae-il was oblivious, but the back of Iris's head was burning right now. Amber, purple, and wall-colored eyes—eyes of every hue—had paused their bickering to stare right through her.)
“Sudden? I thought it was obvious.”
“Obvious?”
“Love is eternal, unless some dystopia hits where humanity's emotions are crushed. No matter what anyone says.”
And even then? If such a dystopia arrived, those chasing freedom would still sing of love. It would seep deep into the hearts of oblivious citizens. Once tasted, it spreads like a plague, addicting hordes in an instant. It wasn't coincidence that memes about the pity of the loveless flooded the internet.
“As long as humanity exists, love won't vanish.”
Iris fell silent at Tae-il's earnest declaration, scrutinizing his face closely. The most striking thing was his usually hazy gaze.
It's clear.
His eyes were sharp, no fog in sight. The meaning was plain.
He's dead serious.
A chuckle escaped Iris despite herself at his utterly sincere, joke-free mode.
“Um… weird?”
His unflappable expression faltered slightly at her unexpected response. Iris pointed at the smile tugging at her lips and shook her head.
“Nah. Just… suddenly all romantic.”
“Ahaha.”
“I get you're a total romantic.”
He was a hopeless romantic despite appearances, so it wasn't that strange. The issue was…
“So. Why's love the theme for our debut song? One we'll never do again?”
As mentioned, to Iris, his love talk felt a bit random. Sure, she admitted love was an essential part of youth.
“No big reason.”
Realizing it wasn't malicious, Tae-il's eyes softened at the corners. The other members, who'd been pretending nonchalance while perking up their ears, now leaned toward Tae-il and Iris, curiosity winning out.
“Love doesn't care about seasons.”
“That's it?”
“There are other reasons, but…”
Not anything grand, he added with an awkward smile.
“I wanna hear Iris sing a love song. That's all. For real.”
Autumn. The start of a new semester. Iris singing of love under clear skies.
“You…”
Iris's face flushed as she pursed her lips and glared at him fiercely.
“What?”
Tae-il blinked back in confusion. Iris pressed her forehead.
“Nothing… I'm the idiot for expecting more.”
“Huh?”
Tae-il tilted his head, then refocused on the sheet music, organizing the ideas bubbling in his mind.
Fall, new semester, changed friends, cultural festival, building new bonds with someone you only knew by face, maple leaves…
He had a rough outline, but it wouldn't solidify. Like a movie with botched editing—striking scenes flashed in fragments, timelines jumbled.
Make it more concrete. Like Ayane said, turn the lyrics into one story…
Like writing a novel. His pencil-holding fingers hesitated for ages before finally moving.
“Iris, boy or girl narrator—which do you prefer?”
“Hm. No strong preference.”
J-pop didn't restrict narrators much; they varied freely. BARD was the same—their songs featured boys, women, fathers, toys, pets, lovers, you name it. Izumi nailed them all perfectly. Iris was similar. Even if Tae-il wrote from a guy's perspective, she was confident she could pull it off.
“Don't you find it easier writing guys?”
“Not really.”
Tae-il got embarrassed projecting himself into male narrators, stalling his writing. Better to think of them as others. Even his fox rain lyrics had been torture at first. Come recording time with the full band, he might not show his face.
“Overall vibe'll be like spring.”
New semester. Spring's fresh encounters.
“Difference is, not totally new.”
“Hm? Like what?”
“Familiar faces. But not close.”
Iris clapped.
“Ah! Like classmates who know each other's faces but that's it—kinda distant?”
The type where surnames are fuzzy, so calling out casually risks an awkward misname.
“But some event draws them closer.”
“Like?”
“Forced into unwanted roles, like cultural festival committee reps…?”
In unavoidable situations, boy and girl get to know each other. No prior overlap, but surprisingly similar tastes, easy talk. Sakuya, who'd heard this far, nodded secretly.
Nice. Sneak in me and Tae-il as festival committee behind the scenes…
Iris wore a strange look.
“Feels heavy on boys'-school boy fantasies, but whatever…”
“Sorry. Limited imagination from a guys'-high alum.”
“Hehe. Kidding. Next?”
“Then, stack up encounters turning to sentiment across settings.”
Festival prep overlaps, event-day brushes, afterparty sparks. Ending TBD.
“Anyway, verse one from the boy's view if possible.”
“Verse two from the girl's?”
“If it works. What do you think, Iris?”
“Hm…”
Her long index tapped her cheek. Cultural festival was pure trauma for Iris—no good vibes. Still, hating it gave her her own fantasies.
But.
“It's like…”
Spilling it to Tae-il brought a wave of shyness.
“Iris?”
“S-Sorry. Um, do I have to say…?”
Iris hunched, avoiding his eyes.
“No biggie if it's hard.”
“Sorry…”
Tae-il didn't push. He knew her situation vaguely; forcing her gained nothing.
But Ayane jumped in right after.
“Shin-jjang! Ayane can explain perfectly!”
Not just her. Sakuya shoved Ayane's head down and shoved her face in.
“Hey! Me too, Tae-il.”
“Ahem! Art club's total shuttle during festivals—tons of experience here…”
Even Rena joined slyly, feigning casualness. Iris shot cold glares at the members crashing their serious talk.
“Don't you guys practice enough…?”
“Nailed today's quota! Right, girls?”
“Katsuragi was super into it.”
“Sakuya wasn't slacking either. Learning speed? Might beat even me, who praised Shin as a genius.”
They'd been at each other's throats moments ago; now they synced like scripted.
Iris rubbed her dry face, asking Tae-il.
“Sigh. What to do with them?”
“Hm.”
Tae-il eyed the half-blank lyrics, relaxed his gaze, shrugged.
“Ask for help, duh.”
Collaboration was a band highlight, right?
Tae-il shifted, addressing all.
“Timeline same for both perspectives?”
“Ayane approves!”
Ayane, shojo manga and novel fan, loved charting boy-girl emotions.
But Sakuya countered.
“Oppose. Verse one's boy view doesn't conclude clearly.”
Just awareness stage—jumping to girl's conclusion felt off.
“Push perspective back. Briefly recap festival feels from boy, then post-festival shifts from girl.”
Sakuya had loads to say on this.
“Got Ayane and Sakuya's takes. Rena?”
“Perspective? Whatever.”
“Any preferred angle or plot? Speak up—I'll take it.”
“Hm. If anything, why insert girl view…?”
Better wrap boy arc neatly, she added.
“Nail the boy's heart resolution.”
“Hm.”
As Tae-il pondered, Iris—hemmed in, feeling the pressure—nodded too.
“Vote Rena. We're doing an upbeat song, right?”
“Yeah?”
“For an exciting love tune, express the boy's thrill straight-up.”
Raw excitement brings the unique flutter.
“Sudden opponent POV in verse two feels floaty, awkward.”
Rena, who'd spoken first, backed Iris hard.
“Exactly. Or make it duet from start.”
“Duet?”
“Songs with dual narrators usually are.”
“Ahh. But…”
Tweaking melody for duet wasn't hard. Issue: Tae-il awkward duetting Iris.
“Debut track—duet feels off.”
“I'm fine w—”
“Iris as partner's weird too.”
Duets flop if vocals mismatch badly. Tae-il hated ruining his song.
“Feat. maybe, but full duet? Nah. Just wreck the track.”
Ayane piled on late: “Right! Right!”
“Ayane backs Shin-jjang! Duets are meh anyway! Iris is our vocal—make her the star! Right?”
Sakuya smirked at Ayane defending Iris for once.
“Hey, Katsuragi. You'd say same for you and Tae-il duet?”
“Th-That… maybe rethink…?”
“Your bias shows…”
“Ayane just maximizes chances!”
“Sure you are.”
“Sakuraba's the same! Pot calling kettle!”
And so, Sakuya and Ayane bickered anew. Iris felt inexplicable regret as the song's direction solidified.
Tae-il sketched the rough frame, then tapped the crucial ending with his pencil tip.
“Alright. Song closer lyrics, then…”
“Got a feel?”
“Roughly?”
Sakuya, having roughly pinned Ayane, peeked over his shoulder at the lyrics.
'Hoping you notice this heart hidden by maple leaves.'
Sakuya chuckled unwittingly.
“Uh, these lyrics funny?”
“Nah. Good. Laughed at something else. Ending this?”
“Probably?”
Sakuya grinned scanning. Gaps aplenty, but key lines Tae-il insisted on popped:
'An awkward alliance thrust together by chance.'
'Your smile in sunset glow is beautiful.'
'Our hands brush by mistake, and stupidly, they won't pull away.'
'My confused heart under colorful bulbs.'
'Picked up big maple leaves to hide my true feelings.'
Sakuya closed her eyes. She overlaid these on the melody Tae-il had shared.
Odd.
Her limited experience made picturing Iris singing fuzzy. But one thing hit clear.
Tough.
Not the playing. Just… imagining Iris on stage, singing this, locking eyes with Tae-il. Her chest bubbled uncomfortably for some reason. That's all.