The Sin of Being the Leader (3)
Day four in the hospital. Shin Tae-il was starting to get used to lying there quietly. Of course, that didn't mean the itchiness had gone away.
Bored out of his mind, he strummed an air guitar by himself, pressed imaginary keys, and sketched song images in his head.
"Time for the patient's check-up... Huh?"
"Mm."
He got caught by a nurse vigorously tapping virtual keys and shaking his head, earning a scolding.
"Son!"
She called while commuting, with Shin Young-hoon's nagging audible in the background.
"Mom's wrapping up early today—should I swing by for dinner?"
"No need. You must be tired. Just rest."
"How can you say that? Your dad might be okay with it, but Mom's really worried about her boy."
"Why am I dragged into this...!"
"Haha."
"Fine then, should I ask Yuuna or Ayane?"
"Really?"
"Hmm? I was gonna nag you a bit if you took the bait. Our boy's so fair."
"Who sets traps like this?"
"Ohoho! Anyway, I'll drop by before dinner, so meet anyone you need to see first!"
"No one's else coming..."
Of course, there were people. They just hadn't been told, so they probably didn't even know he was hurt.
"For real, son? So Mom can just barge in without peeking around?"
"Why would you need to peek, Mom?"
"My boy's speaking truth. You never mind others' eyes. Even charging at a client CEO like... Mmph! Ac, accident! What dangerous crap are you doing right now?!"
"Mom?"
"Love you, son! See you later!"
Click.
The call cut off abruptly, leaving Tae-il staring in disbelief.
"Sounded like all hell broke loose..."
Hoping no accident news followed, he opened the group chat. He was curious about the members, who'd ended up crashing at Rena's place for an unplanned campout.
Sending off Ayane's sleepy, half-delirious texts, Tae-il leaned back against the bed.
"They're all working hard."
He wanted in on it. His hands itched. Not as a session fill-in, but properly on keys or his chosen songs, jamming together.
"Gotta put in the effort."
He did. They all did.
Knock knock.
"Come in!"
Another nurse? Tae-il sat up curiously.
A head of mint-green hair poked in.
"Taichi, you holding up?"
"Yuuya-senpai?"
It was his Animal Husbandry Club vice-president and senior, Mori Yuuya.
"What? We were worried when we heard you got hurt. You look fine."
"Asakura-sensei?"
"Yeah, it's me, you damn accident magnet."
Asakura met his eyes and grinned, jabbing a Chupa Chups at him from her mouth. Both were their usual selves. Yuuya in uniform; Asakura in a plain white shirt sans tie, black slacks. At school, she wore a lab coat as the science teacher, but not here.
"Anyone'd mistake you for a delinquent, not a teacher."
"Wanna die?"
Asakura beamed, slipping the candy stick between her fingers like a middle finger.
"Hahaha."
Tae-il laughed heartily, then winced as his head throbbed.
Yuuya, unclear on the injury details, fretted.
"Does it hurt?"
"Haha. Big laughs make it shake."
"Heard your head almost turned into a watermelon."
"Don't say creepy stuff like that..."
Watermelon. Same grim image in Japan—red juice splattering as it cracks open.
"It's still morning—skipping club?"
"We did light cleaning; cousin's covering the rest."
"Ah..."
Tae-il silently mourned Sera, dragged into extra work. She'd helped when Iris ran away in the original; he'd see her as a student teacher post-break.
Probably handling the free class...
He figured high odds of school run-ins regardless of club.
"Nice room."
First-time hospital VIP for Asakura, who marveled. Once-wealthy Yuuya shrugged it off. She arranged flowers by the bed, tidied, and sat.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Just stitched a scalp tear."
"'Just'?"
Yuuya rolled her eyes at his casualness, gaze fixed on his head bandage.
"Bandaged head and all...?"
Fiction made it routine; reality, not so much.
Asakura, munching Chupa Chups while scanning the room, chimed in.
"Injured folks act tough to reassure others, even if it's bad."
"Really?"
"Probably. Most patients I've seen did."
Barring the ones too messed up to joke.
"I see..."
Yuuya nodded quietly at Asakura's near-experiential tone.
Tae-il looked intrigued.
"Seen lots of patients, sensei?"
"Our generation was turbulent. Even post-millennium, freaks everywhere."
Asakura gazed distantly, resigned. Millennium babies, they'd lived rapid tech and social shifts.
"So, how'd it happen?"
"Tripped."
"Fell back, cracked your skull?"
"Yeah."
He skipped catching a falling stage member.
Asakura swallowed a laugh, chomping the stick.
"Your family's loaded?"
"Nah?"
"Not rich, yet VIP for a skull crack?"
"Sensei..."
Yuuya scolded; Asakura shrugged.
"Fine. Hiding it means no foul play."
"If there was?"
"I'd grab Yuuya and bolt."
Hates hassle, she cackled—sharp looks belying sly charm.
"School okay?"
"Yeah."
"Kinda."
"Huh?"
"Kids suddenly pairing off..."
"Already?"
Yuuya, prepped for winter, was swamped too.
"Not because of me, right?"
"Did it without you last year."
"Yeah. Used to it."
"Sad club life..."
Tae-il smiled bitterly at the lonely club. Channel popularity aside, Animal Husbandry remained notoriously unpopular.
"Right—festival plans?"
"Nah?"
"Nothing set. Why?"
"Well..."
He spilled cultural festival stage plans. Asakura advised; Yuuya was Light Music Club too, even off-stage.
"Hoo?"
Yuuya thought, Band means stage, duh—good luck. But Asakura, briefed on future plans as advisor, eyed his shift keenly.
"Didn't you say stage next year?"
"Yeah."
"Remember you planned meticulously. Why the change?"
"Thought it over a lot."
Original story: Burning Blaze's success had twists. But as reader-fan, he missed internal team strife fans never saw.
To casuals, they comet-like debuted, soared, disbanded at peak—eccentric.
He got the gap. Assumed quick fame, easy win.
But bonding with members showed reality differed.
"Our band's got issues."
"Skill-wise?"
"Skills, mentality, environment."
"Uh-huh."
Yuuya, who'd met Ayane and Sakuya, nodded vigorously. Problem band, her view.
"Hm. So?"
Asakura urged more.
"Initially, fix all, debut perfect."
He'd tasted bitter failure. Unrecognized effort sans success. World recalls only winners' pasts.
"We're not local idols growing with fans."
Bands grow, but not from rock-bottom skill. Fans accept shaky live from greenness only.
"Wanted shocking, amazing band impression."
"You shock plenty now..."
"Not visuals."
Original delivered: Ayane's natural bass from solace; Iris's vocal gift; Sakuya's absorption, performance, fanservice; Rena's gap-moe drumming. Synergy comet-struck indie scene. Rena/Sakuya had prior fame.
Plus perfect setup: Izumi dies, BARD disbands—female vocal void. Tribute/idol girl bands boom. Warring states era.
Media hypes next Izumi. World craves successor.
Burning Blaze answers: Me. Iris shines as sole heir.
Rivalry with corporate-backed Rock To Jewelry; one member's grudge with Iris. Festival clashes build narrative.
Sakuya's right.
Underdog stories thrill.
But can't now.
His meddling derailed too far. Ayane should've been pro-level bassist now; Rena/Sakuya on-track pre-break. End-break, master one song. Perfect stage? Gone.
Izumi lives? No boom. Overshadowed anyway. Decade snowball now avalanche.
So.
"Slightly changed my mind."
"How?"
"Nothing big."
Skill lacking? Outdo with spectacle.
"Gonna pull aggro full-force."
He grinned villainously.
"Hoo?"
Asakura admired. Hospital sharpened his face; evil smile fit perfectly.
"Need Yuuya-senpai's help."
"Me?"
Context-missing Yuuya pointed at herself.
"Yeah."
Tae-il nodded.
"Lots."
No underdog? Villain it is.
Skills? Prove later. Just needs time.
He trusted their blooming talent most.
So, leader-like, he'd shoulder it.
The hate.