When the Leader's Away (2)
A good melody is the product of harmony born purely from human emotion. When that harmony breaks down, dissonance creeps in, tormenting the listener. Just like now.
"Stop."
Iris raised her hand, halting the practice. As the sound—which had started off decent but gradually crumbled into agony—finally ceased, her heart steadied.
Was it because they'd practiced too long? Shockingly, the band fell apart without just Tae-il there. It was uncanny how out of sync they all were. Someone rushed too fast, someone lagged too slow. If it had been consistent from start to finish, fine—but no, the slow ones sped up midway, and the fast ones slowed down. Everyone knew their own playing was off.
"Let's take a break. Rest time."
At Iris's declaration, the stifling air filling the practice room loosened a bit.
"Haaah."
Ayane, who'd been hauling the heavy bass, plopped down first and leaned against the cool wall from the AC. Her shoulders, crushed by the strap, relaxed, and her mouth went slack with relief.
"Soo coool..."
She'd been farthest from the AC, so probably sweltering. Her face melted like ice cream the moment the chill hit.
"Nngh."
Rena set her sticks on the stand and rubbed her tingling palms with her thumbs. As the drummer, she'd burned the most energy—sweat drenched her whole body, especially her hands.
"Rena-chan, towel here."
"Yeah. Thanks."
Rena scrubbed away the sticky sweat and dampness. Meanwhile, Iris eyed Sakuya, who was still standing alone.
"Sakuya, you okay? You sweated the most."
"Fine. Training's tougher."
Sweaty, sure, but she had stamina to spare—Sakuya quietly plucked her strings solo. Her usual smile was gone, her expression dark. Knowing why, Iris could only offer a wry smile instead of clumsy comfort.
It's 'cause Shin Tae-il's not here, huh?
Without her usual high-energy teasing of Tae-il in the hospital room, the whole vibe sagged. It was depressing even for onlookers.
Can't be helped.
At this rate, no more practice today—or tomorrow.
Clap clap!
Iris clapped to rally them and draw eyes her way.
"Alright, it's late—everyone hungry?"
"Uh..."
Sakuya reacted first to the hunger question, almost involuntarily.
Gurgle.
Her silver-near-white hair made it stand out—her ears flushed bright red as she ducked her head.
"Pfft!"
Iris covered her mouth, giggling. They were due for food; the clock hands were nearing 10.
"Cool, Sakuya's in. Ayane, Rena-chan?"
"If there's food, yeah."
"Ayane too... just a little?"
Thankfully, no objections. Even weight-conscious Ayane nodded readily—she must've been wiped.
Two hours. Despite the blasting AC, humidity choked the room from their intense session. Rena not collapsing was the miracle; Iris's throat ached from sustained high notes.
"On the way."
No sooner had Iris replied than Rena slid off her drum stool and face-planted on the floor.
"Iris, that arm massager over there..."
"This?"
"Fill it up for me..."
Iris fetched the blood-pressure-cuff-like machine, slipped it on Rena's arm, and velcroed it tight.
"Just turn it on?"
"Yeah."
Psssh.
With a hiss, it buzzed to life.
"Hyaat!"
"Whoa, Rena-chan's voice is wild."
"Sh-shut up... hyaaang!"
Ayane plugged her ears for no reason; Sakuya stifled chuckles.
"Hnght...!"
Rena blushed furiously, clenching and unclenching her fists with every squeeze or pulse.
Iris marveled. "Rena-chan, didn't know you had a masochist streak..."
"Shut... hnn."
"Ahaha. Rena's reactions are like those senior citizens at the public gym."
Sakuya smirked, saying even the old folks sounded like that on massagers.
"Ah, better now?"
"Eh, close enough."
Sakuya swept back sweat-matted hair, wiping her brow. Iris, staring blankly, snapped out of it and shook her head.
"Right. Sakuya, you know you can't do this with Shin Tae-il around, yeah?"
"Huh? Do what?"
Iris shot a pouty glare at Sakuya's mischievous grin.
Two hours. Drummer Rena aside, Iris—singing with some moves—was soaked. Ayane too. Her black outfit showed bra lines stark on her back. Sakuya? Worst of all.
With Tae-il here, they'd mind their dignity a bit. Girl-only, though? Sakuya, sweating buckets, had stripped midway—it annoyed more than anything, her killer figure making viewers self-conscious. Ayane especially.
Iris sighed at brazen Sakuya. "Jeez, you'll catch a cold. Put something on already."
"Oh yeah. Towel?"
Iris tossed one; Sakuya finally set down her guitar and wiped everywhere.
"You always sweat a ton?"
"Kinda?"
She dried off and slipped her top back on. "Yeah, nice and fresh. Good call shedding it."
"I warned you—no doing that around Shin Tae-il."
"Ahaha. Won't."
Iris eyed her skeptically, pressing. Their Gunma karma loomed large.
"For real?"
"Want me to wear a school swimsuit underneath?"
"Wanna die?"
Sakuya blinked innocently. "Not me!"
Iris waved frantically. "Why you?"
Sakuya turned away. Rena glared, face flushed like she'd been drinking.
Then Rena exploded. "Sakuya, quit bragging about your body! Makes me mad just looking!"
"Uh, um... sorry?"
"You too, Iris! So annoying..."
"Right, right!"
Ayane—re-energized—nodded vigorously like a sycophant beside Rena.
"Mmm..."
Normally, Sakuya would've teased Ayane back mercilessly, but Rena made it tricky. Honestly, Rena's growth spurt—or lack thereof—was pitiful even to her. Petite perks like hogging Tae-il's lap came with too many downsides, exceptions like Ayane aside.
"People with 'em just flaunt..."
"Hear hear!"
"Finally got some British blood, but why me...?"
Rena vented at her lazy genes. And speaking of genes—someone else griped.
"Ayane has complaints too!"
"You too, gloomy girl?"
"Mom's over D-cup, why just Ayane...!"
"What? For real...?"
"Totally! Ayane show the family pic?"
Ayane dug out her smartphone—same model as Tae-il's.
"Here!"
Family photo from an Osaka trip in elementary school. Sakuya and Iris crowded in.
"Whoa."
Sakuya whistled. Osaka Castle backdrop, two families. Amber-eyed beauty—Ayane's lookalike—stood out, even with sunglasses on others.
Sakuya's gaze dropped. "Huh?"
Ayane's mom Yuuna held a young girl and boy.
"Cough!"
Sakuya spat blood.
"Sakuya!?"
"S-so cuuute... baby Tae-il."
"Really?"
Rena paused the massager, yanked her arm free, and peered. Then spat blood.
"Cough!"
"Rena-chan too!?"
"Th-that innocent grin on kid Shin... total GOAT..."
"Right? Cute, huh? Ehehe."
Ayane beamed proudly. Iris inspected closer.
"Heh?"
Definitely cute. Chubby-cheeked Tae-il, beaming purely with double V-signs—total opposite of his usual gloomy mug.
"When was this, Ayane?"
"Around fifth grade?"
"What? Just 4-5 years ago and he changed this much?"
Reverse glow-down, impression-wise. Iris shivered at puberty's terror.
"Shin-chan turned out like that... uh, middle school stuff happened..."
"He had middle school drama too?"
"Uh, y-yeah..."
Ayane looked evasive.
"Eh, prying's rude—let's drop it?"
"Phew."
As Iris backed off, a knock echoed from the entrance.
"Miss, Kiriko here. Brought the snacks and drinks as requested."
"Come in!"
"Excuse me, then."
Kiriko entered, set a small table mid-room. Loaded like a party: snack bags, bowls, drinks, cups galore.
"Call if you need more."
She left; members swarmed, grabbing favorites.
"Feels less like band practice, more like snack party."
Sakuya crunched Chitos, wondering if this was okay unsolved.
Rena scolded deadpan. "Don't talk with snacks in your mouth?"
"Sorry. Starving."
"Fuhuhu. I'll handle feedback—eat up first."
"I-Iris's feedback...?"
Ayane flinched mid-reach for snacks.
"Why? Scared?"
"Iris is secretly Spartan..."
"Am I?"
"You are! Savage burns too!"
Burns? Iris scratched her head, recalling Ayane sessions.
Rena munched Pocky indifferently. "She kinda is. Genius passive: 'Why can't you do this?'—zero regard for learners."
"Wh-when did I! Rena-chan, you learned tons from me!"
"Think I don't know 'cause I learned plenty?"
"Exactly! Totally!"
Ayane suddenly chimed in excitedly.
"Shin-chan always praises improvement!"
Members unaware, but Tae-il had tutored at academies for pocket money, learned from profs/seniors. He paced to others' routines/growth. Plus original knowledge gauged talents—easy curriculum.
Iris? Opposite. Self-taught guitar, no teaching experience—her standards only. No tempo adjustment, unknown potentials: growing frantic.
"Iris sucks at teaching!"
"Guh!"
Bone-chilling fact; Iris clutched her chest.
"Real. Trait: ignores learner POV, scrapes nerves raw."
"Rena-chan! Makes me sound villainous!"
"Ain't you?"
"No!"
Iris protested. "Ugh... music needs self-awareness, that's all..."
"Self-awareness, huh."
Sakuya pondered, emptying a snack bag.
"Cold hard truth: how're we doing?"
"What?"
"Our skills."
Iris glanced at Rena/Ayane; they nodded.
"Bad."
Bluntly, Iris grasped jam session hell. Music forums overflowed with tales—why so many villains? Reality wasn't her romantic dream. Sync rooms with faceless pros were more fun. Anonymity? Users skilled like hermits. Vocally flawless, Iris got constant praise—girl bonus too.
Lucky middle school flop.
Her Light Music Club? Willpower/skill void. One real jam would've killed her from frustration.
Still...
Iris smiled at fuming Sakuya. Frustration fueled competitive growth. Unlike Tae-il's skill trust, hers lacked—but personalities? Solid.
"What's the band's core element?"
Ayane first. "Playing skill?"
Basics. Iris nodded.
"Sakuya?"
"Performance."
Band tracks blurred samely, blandly. Flashy, captivating shows filled gaps—like Izumi's sudden dance/wire descent. Sakuya prized spectacle.
"Fair. Rena-chan?"
"Stamina?"
Rehearsals proved: drums drained more than thought. Mindless fun, stress relief. But controlling beat/rhythm? Headaches. Past an hour, body lagged—frequent flubs.
"Yep. All key—and linked."
Stamina rooted everything: sustained stage, performance. Great shows needed great skills. Flash sans skill? Band nerds' scorn.
"Ironically, we're short all of 'em. Know that?"
Three turtles-in-shells nodded in sync—hilarious.
"If we flop now, biggest issue when?"
"Festival...?"
"Nope."
Ayane yanked hand back, glancing; others shrugged same thought. She sighed relief; Iris raised voice.
"Busking."
"Wh-why...?"
"Experienced it."
"You?"
Iris twirled hair; Ayane shrank, recalling Tae-il's vid. Amateur-hour mess—even her novice eyes saw. Yet Iris's desperate vocal shone. Music moved—softened Ayane's jealousy, forced acceptance despite her blocks.
"Festival flop might help. If we bomb pre-festival, 'just memories'—laugh it off. Seven Light Music Clubs dilute us. My vocal buzzes brief; band fades. Like middle school black hole."
Arisugawas bury it; school rumors fizzle.
"Busking's different."
Especially Yoyogi Park—busker hubs. Shinjuku/Harajuku spots? Declarations of war. Label scouts rumored regulars.
"Like Sakuya's manga."
"Huh? I said I liked manga?"
"That pirate king death scaffold."
"Iris!?"
Sakuya inwardly screamed—One Piece wasn't otaku fodder like Onaban/Demon Slayer.
Shonen Jump flicks like Crayon Shin-chan/Doraemon/Conan don't count either—or fashion otaku risk.
Tough life, otaku.
"Busking means naming the band."
Symbolic.
"Not 'some school Light Music whoever'—leagues apart."
Japan's perverts abounded. Beyond indie fans: indie-only obsessives. Wiki tracked every flash-in-pan.
"Name drops: tracks lead back. Stalker eyes follow."
First impression brands you forever in those circles.
"Our strong impression sticks deeper than most."
No exaggeration. Surveying members, Iris inwardly cursed Tae-il.
Damn...
Shining Tae-il? Or Hikaru Genji? She tsked.
"Repertoire size too."
"Meaning?"
"School: 2-3 songs max."
No personal concert—time slots fixed. Encores? Post-festival finale only.
"Festival covers? Fine."
School bands did. Originals? Oddity signaling production chops.
"Busking shifts."
YouTube covers/solo idols fine. But bands/singersongwriters? Originals define you—gamble identity.
"Covers okay. Rena-chan/Ayane practiced BARD tracks."
Ayane jolted under gaze—forgotten, clearly.
Once learned, muscle memory quick-returns.
Worry: Sakuya, guitar-feel focused—basic riffs over full songs.
Tae-il'll handle.
Won't? Scold him then.
"Busking schedule loose to festival: two months say."
Iris held up three fingers.
"Minimum three more songs."
Her creed: frequent busks best—needs repertoire variety.
"No adults: Live House tough."
Four high school girls? Her cash covers fees, but managers risk-averse. Bandmen common, image trash: untalented dropouts till signed/hot.
Ignoring Tae-il's biased Live House ties, Iris nixed it.
"Sorry in advance."
"Huh?"
"Sudden apology why?"
"Ah."
Only Rena caught on, frowning.
"You won't care major debut, but family issues block demos/labels."
No agency support. Major path steeper.
Curious Sakuya probed. "Family why? Parents against?"
"Well..."
Iris pondered.
Spill?
Arranged engagement. Antiquated, even to non-progressive her. Embarrassing; would commoners get it?
Drama trope...
Scoff? Ayane might cheer—rival down.
Unfair!
Petty now; clammed up. Plus, helping reveal to members? Unknown.
Rena burdened by me too...
Tae-il hid, but maybe Rena-like. See him beg nurse for laptop despite pain. Iris spilled heatedly to him—big secret otherwise.
Arisugawa heir engaged? Public hush, internal betting fodder.
Not spilling house drama to semi-close members: poor form.
"Umm..."
Say? Not? Iris wavered at the crossroads.