Recording (7)
"Aaaah!"
Iris had been stretching into the cool air when she suddenly pitched a fit.
"No, seriously! Isn't our leader way too picky? He's impossible to satisfy!"
"Satisfy Tae-il? Hmm..."
Catching Iris's grumbling, Sakuya flushed as if something had just dawned on her.
Rena shut her down at once.
"Sakuya, shut your mouth. Lips sealed!"
"Seal my lips...?"
"I can't deal with you!"
"Ahaha! So Rena's a dirty-minded girl too? I mean, if you think about the pictures she draws—mmph!?"
"Shut up! I said shut up! Aaaah!"
Rena sprang up and latched onto Sakuya's shoulder, desperate to clamp a hand over her mouth.
The members had already opened most of their secrets to one another. Had no one else been there, Rena would simply have laughed it off. Unfortunately, Yuuya was still with them, and she hardly knew Rena at all. She had been following quietly behind, and at Rena's sudden outburst she tilted her head.
"Are you two... okay?"
"Yes."
Ayane nodded as if it were nothing.
"This is just everyday life."
She jabbed a quiet finger at Rena, who had at last managed to seal Sakuya's mouth.
"And that little brat's always had a foul mouth."
...They are close, right?
Yuuya took in the profoundly strange company that was Tales Tale.
Iris, who had gone on ahead alone, kept muttering under her breath.
"Let's see when Shin Tae-il finally tucks that lip back in..."
"Pfft!"
Sakuya peeled Rena's hand away, gulped down a breath, and hauled her in like a doll to pin her.
"Gah!"
A chest smothered the top of Rena's head.
"Whew. Anyway, if that's the problem, I just thought of a way."
"Don't listen, Iris! That girl, I don't even have to hear it—!"
"You mean we should kiss him? I know."
Iris answered with a perfectly calm face, and Sakuya, thoroughly deflated, managed an awkward smile.
"Ah, ahaha. These jokes really don't land on you, Iris...?"
"Obviously. What, did you take me for Ayane?"
"Iris! Ayane is very bothered by that remark!"
"Oops. No harm meant."
Iris giggled in that infuriating way of hers, hiding her mouth behind a hand. Mischief pooled thick in eyes curved like crescent moons.
Ayane stuck her lip out.
"Eek! First Shin Tae-il, and now even Ayane's lip is out. What a sinful woman I am."
"Cut the crap."
Rena squirmed and barely wriggled free of Sakuya's hold.
"Hey, what's all this lip talk been about since earlier?"
"Can't you tell from his face?"
"His face...?"
"Ah, Rena-chan was too wiped from drumming to see, huh?"
Iris smiled bitterly.
"He looked completely unsatisfied."
"Shin?"
"Yeah. The whole recording, actually."
More precisely, everything after the first take. Watching the members play, he had been all right enough, but the moment Iris sang he kept knitting his brow.
"Really? I had no idea..."
"You were struggling that hard too, Rena-chan. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it."
In truth, even if he had realized, he couldn't have hidden it. It would have shown on his face all the same.
"Did Shin-chan really look like that?"
"I saw it too."
Sakuya nodded and glanced back.
"Senpai, you've got the video on your phone, right? You filmed Tae-il separately while we were recording?"
At that, three more pairs of eyes snapped to Yuuya at once.
"Huh?"
With the whole strong-willed lineup staring her down, Yuuya shrank without meaning to.
Iris soothed the others and stepped forward as their representative.
"Is what Sakuya said true, senpai?"
"Y-yeah..."
Yuuya nodded.
Iris traded a quick look with the members.
Unanimous.
She gave a resolute nod, as if a grave mission had just been laid on her, and asked with careful courtesy.
"Um, senpai? This might be rude of us, but... would it be all right if we watched that footage?"
"Yeah. It's fine."
"Huh? For real? You gave in way too easily..."
Iris, who had braced for serious resistance, laughed, oddly deflated.
No, wait...
Yuuya was the one thrown, by the relief on Iris's face. They were tiptoeing around a perfectly reasonable request.
All of this is going up on your channel anyway...
She had meant to check with the people in the videos after the edit, to be sure nothing in the cut was a problem. With no real guidelines to follow, she had to be careful herself.
Are these girls really all right...?
Ayane's reaction from their first meeting came back to her unbidden. A wariness and jealousy so extreme she reacted like a carnivorous plant the instant you brushed her—as if common sense simply hadn't been installed.
Tae-il...
Little by little, Yuuya was starting to worry about him in earnest.
Knock, knock.
A light rap, and then the studio door opened. A middle-aged man with a slightly receding hairline poked his head through the gap. The manager. He glanced around the room, his gaze passing the booth and settling on the glass that looked into the control room, where he found Tae-il keeping a dead silence.
"Oh! Still here? Where'd the kids all go, leaving just you?"
"The convenience store."
By tradition, a studio meal meant Chinese delivery, but Japanese Chinese food diverged enough from the Korean kind that they had simply settled on cheap, easy convenience-store lunches. Ordering in felt awkward on top of that, and the place was cramped besides. No one had objected to Tae-il's suggestion.
"Hmm. Sending the girls on an errand so you can loaf around alone? A kept man if I ever saw one!"
"Well..."
At the manager's needling, half joke and half jab, Tae-il only gave a light shrug, too tired to bother answering. The manager hadn't meant it anyway. "Stop by the convenience store" was just the excuse. The real point was that Tae-il had shoved the members outside to get some air and rest.
"So. Recording going well?"
"I don't know."
Tae-il, who had been staring holes into the monitor with his thumbs braced under his chin and his mouth covered, slowly closed his eyes. His index fingers pressed into lids that stung.
Taking in his decidedly un-cute part-timer, the manager folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe.
"You look wiped, plain as day. Why not rest a little while you work? They say the more you hurry, the longer way around. Work falls apart easier when you're anxious. Leave yourself some room."
"You're right... nngh!"
At the jab, Tae-il stretched and rolled the stiffness out of his shoulders.
"Hooo."
Sweat had cooled and left his hands colder than they should have been. He breathed warmth back into them.
"Oh, right. Want to give it a listen, Manager?"
"The song? Sure."
The manager came over and leaned his face in close to the monitor, and Tae-il played the unfinished scratch.
Click.
A bouncy, cute melody spilled out. Not the manager's taste, but the sort of melody you heard often enough running a rehearsal studio—a thoroughly mainstream love song with a hint of autumn to it. Pleasant, in an ordinary way. One thing snagged, though. The vocal, pitch-perfect from the first note to the last, without a single waver.
Hell of a tone.
They hadn't even properly mixed or mastered it, and still that voice sat clean all on its own. There are singers like that, once in a while. Technique so unfair that volume, color, everything is cheating, and the live hardly differs from the recording. If that was real, the boy in front of him had gotten his hands on a truly precious vocalist.
The end. The highlight, chorus stacking into chorus.
"Hm?"
The manager, who had been nodding along in silence, tilted his head. Tae-il's snapped up.
"It's a little off, right?"
"Well, for an amateur level it's very solid, but..."
The manager glanced sideways at him. The boy's eyes were burning. He couldn't hide his face; it was obvious he wasn't satisfied here.
"You're aiming higher than this?"
"If I can."
Greedy. But with a vocal like that beside you, maybe you couldn't help being greedy. The manager stroked his beard, thinking.
"How about putting more feeling into it? Right now you sound too much like you're sitting in the producer's chair."
"Feeling?"
"Kid. Have you ever thought of them as colleagues who stand on the same stage as you?"
"Uh..."
They were colleagues. Precious ones he wouldn't trade for anything. But the premise of actually standing on a stage together—he still hadn't felt that.
"A band's a family, they say. And to become a family, you need a bond to match. The best condition for building that bond is..."
"You mean busking, lives, that sort of thing?"
"Right."
The manager rested an arm on the back of the chair.
"Hobby and business aren't going to feel equally good, sure. But a band still has to enjoy playing. Don't try to look at it from some perfectly objective seat. Get in the middle of it. Enjoy it with those girls."
"I did play with them while we were recording..."
"And that was still tracking in parts, wasn't it? Knowing you, you listened two times, three times, checking every scratch."
"..."
When no answer came, the manager chuckled and fiddled with Tae-il's scratch.
"Hmm. You don't have an engineer?"
"You're looking at him."
Tae-il pointed at himself, exhausted. The manager nodded. Of course. No engineer, so the boy playing producer was suffering like this. The usual indie reality: a self-taught member like Tae-il running every step, recording included. If you had a label, or money to spare, you simply called in a capable engineer and outsourced it. These kids were the former.
I was like that once, too. Fought my bandmates half to death.
Turning over the old memory, the manager smiled bitterly.
"Anyway, the point is there are things you only feel when you're looking from the same place. You probably know that already, kid. You've filled in on recordings before."
"You mean enjoy it."
"Yeah. In music, the one who's having fun is unbeatable. Dead or alive, you can't beat them."
There are artists like Fujii Kaze. People who enjoy it—eccentrics who hide nothing, lay all of themselves bare, and commune with their fans. That eccentric streak had given him a free, fresh individuality all his own.
"Well, you don't have to enjoy it quite like that young fellow. He's too far outside my common sense."
"Is he?"
"And, what's-his-name—ease up a little. Honestly, your song right now is too good to waste as a demo."
"That's a compliment, right?"
"Yeah, you brat. So where are you sending it? ING?"
"Why ING specifically?"
"The vocal's pure BARD style, isn't it?"
"Oh. As expected of a heavy metal legend."
At the manager's sharp ear, Tae-il let out a dry laugh and clapped, weakly.
ING...
He stared at the scratch.
"...Well, if it were ING, that'd be best."
"Only best?"
The manager giggled and gave Tae-il's shoulder a light pat.
"Your generation might not know, but for ours, ING was practically a god. A bunch of romantic idiots."
"Romantic idiots?"
"Yeah. While everyone else was sweeping the industry with idols and visual bands, they were the weirdos who competed on musicianship alone."
They were the ones who had broken the orthodox band mold, and they had run artist-first, respecting the choices their artists made. Then the bubble burst, and Japan's harsh reality showed its bare face. ING's artists comforted the public, met them where they were, and pulled the era along with emotional songs.
"Of course, looking at the lot of you, a major would suit you better."
"Why?"
"You're built closer to an idol group, aren't you?"
"Mm..."
Unable to argue it lightly, Tae-il closed his mouth. The manager was right. They claimed to be a skill-focused act, but to anyone looking they were an idol band that had dumped everything into visuals rather than ability.
"So. Have you picked a label?"
"A label?"
"Weren't you about to send a demo out?"
"Ah."
Tae-il scratched his head. A demo. Not that he hadn't thought about it. It was just difficult. First, the obstacle standing in the way of Iris debuting at all—her family—had to be settled. Next, every member was a minor, so each guardian would have to approve a debut. The problem was that, Ayane aside, getting the rest of their families to allow them to work as singers was... complicated.
Oblivious to all of that, the manager busied himself recommending labels. It barely counted as recommending. He was only listing the most famous ones in Japan.
"Personally, I'd recommend Universal."
"Universal?"
"Those folks know how to raise artists. They're outstanding at naturally giving an artist a story, too. Gods of marketing."
He added that Wainex and Sony were good as well.
"Wainex leans idol, and their policies are a bit strict, but they're the ones who produced Kahee. They don't treat female singers badly."
"And Sony?"
"Global giant, businesses all over the place, so work pours into their labels no matter what you do. In an industry where collaboration matters, that's a treasure. And above all, you can use Sony gear to your heart's content."
"Every last one of those is an untouchable name..."
All of them ranked among the top five in Japan. ING, the first one mentioned, was the smallest of the bunch by comparison. Of course, the name value of its artists didn't lose even set beside the majors.
"Hmm. None of them appeal? Then what about Winner?"
"Winner?"
"My nephew's with them these days, among other things. I hear they put out a lot of young singer-songwriters."
"You have a nephew, Manager?"
"Just because I've been single since the womb doesn't mean my sibling is..."
"Ahhh..."
Tae-il quietly wiped away a tear.
"Ahem! Anyway, where are you sending the demo? Here's my advice. When you send it, send it boldly to a major."
Poke the persimmon even if you can't eat it. If luck held, they might even start their career under a major's label. In the manager's eyes this band—skill and looks both, clumsy as they still were—overflowed with potential.
Except.
"I appreciate the advice. But I can't send this anywhere..."
"Huh?"
He simply didn't know Tales Tale's circumstances. He wasn't flustered, though. He had seen plenty of bands stall over a member's personal life, or over plain reality.
"Heh. Then this song is...?"
"More or less for pitching to live houses."
The norma system. An artist asked a live house for a stage by filling an assigned ticket quota. For indie bands desperate for stage time and exposure, it wasn't a choice. It was custom.
"Does it seem lacking?"
"I told you. At demo level, it's top tier."
The manager shrugged.
"Once recording's done, you heading straight out to promote?"
"No. Promotion's roughly from autumn?"
Tae-il was aiming for after the school cultural festival, to squeeze the maximum out of the promo. That assumed they made a splash at the festival itself, of course.
"Exams are coming up soon, too. And once those end, the cultural festival makes everything insanely busy."
So the preparation had to be finished ahead of time.
"We'll take photos, make promo posters."
"Photos, huh..."
The manager called up the faces of Tales Tale.
"I don't know about the rest, but a promo poster would sell like crazy. Stock a few at our rehearsal studio."
"Haha. Thanks for the consideration."
Tae-il offered his thanks, and the manager roughly ruffled his hair.
"It's been over five years since I first saw you, kid."
"Has it already been five?"
"Yeah."
A quiet day, no different from any other, just like now. Midday, when customers were scarcest. A squat little kid who hadn't even lost his baby fat had shown up alone, saying he wanted to play bass. Coming for bass instead of guitar had been a little unusual. The manager had told him to go ahead. Kids who admired bands and dropped in to try a guitar once were common enough. So long as they paid properly, age didn't matter.
"Back then I figured I'd see you once or twice and that'd be it."
He had been wrong. The boy kept coming back to the studio. He must have been making the rounds of live houses, too, because before long he was bringing customers with him. Most of them women, so the manager had been quite satisfied with the boy's touting. Their musical tastes didn't match at all, but without meaning to, the boy had done plenty of work as a mascot. He had been a real help to the sales.
"Well, what comes has to go. That's the way of the world. If you need help down the line, say so. I'll gladly give it."
"...Thank you."
"If you're grateful, you brat, bring me a young lady who likes heavy metal sometime."
The manager was only joking.
"Haha. But even a girl who likes heavy metal might find you a bit much, Manager..."
"You little—!"
The manager flared, and Tae-il grinned.
"Where am I wrong? Honestly, heavy metal needs the visuals."
"K-khhk...!"
Repaying kindness with spite, Tae-il had the manager clutching the back of his neck. Why had he ever doted on this damned kid? He was on the verge of taking back every kind word he had just spoken.
Clunk.
Perfect timing: the door opened. The members Tae-il had sent to the convenience store to rest.
"Yahoo! Come here, Leader!"
"Shin-chan! We're back!"
"Shin! I heard you like cola, but Sakuya was dead set against it, so we switched to a red ginseng dri—aack!"
"Ahaha! Rena, this is all for your health, okay? Shhh! Rena, this is thinking of the future! Our—!"
"Haa..."
Pretty girls poured into the cramped studio in a rush, and the manager froze. Iris, leading them from the front, naturally spotted him talking with Tae-il.
"Ah! It's the manager! Hello!"
"O-oh, hello..."
Iris slipped on her public-facing image at once and greeted him with a pitiful, lovely smile.
"It's our first time using this place, and it's seriously amazing! I already thought it was incredible that the rehearsal studio stocks expensive amps without blinking. But a neighborhood rehearsal space with a studio this good? And at a price this cheap... thank you, really."
"N-not at all.... It's just business. We get paid for it..."
"No! Even so, thanks to you our recording has gone so smoothly...!"
"I-if you're going to thank someone, thank this kid...!"
"This?"
Sprawled in the chair, Tae-il stared at the manager in disbelief.
Is this the same manager who gets so happy when a female customer walks in?
Face to face with Iris like this, he looked as if he had no resistance to women whatsoever. The manager worked his lips and glared at Tae-il.
You bastard! This! The league! Is different! A bit!
The gap in looks was absurd. Student or not, even taken as a customer that face was hard to handle—and she was bringing it right up close. For the manager, it was agony. Iris stared blankly, then a light bulb popped on over her head and she clapped.
"Ah! I get it! Is this that 'Say It With Your Face' thing that's popular on variety shows lately?"
"No!"
The manager barely got the word out before scrambling to hide behind Tae-il.
"Good grief..."
Tae-il pressed a hand to his forehead and looked at the manager with something like pity. He himself was perfectly calm, as if he had forgotten how openly flustered he had been the first time he met Iris.
"Um, Manager...?"
When the manager trembled and broke into a cold sweat, Iris came closer, worried.
"W-wait...!"
He raised a hand and stopped her approach, then whipped his gaze around the room. A pretty girl. And another pretty girl. And over there, yet another pretty girl, without end!
I'm gonna lose it, I swear...!
Too much. In his head a worst-case future was already playing out, stitched together from pure paranoia: his own sweaty, smelly self reported for harassment and hauled away. Then his busy gaze landed on Tae-il.
Right...! There was a way!
He kicked the back of the chair Tae-il was leaning on with his knee. Tae-il got up, irritated.
"What now?"
"Hey! You get in the booth too."
"What?"
"You weren't happy with the recording anyway. Hurry...!"
The manager urgently shoved him from behind.
"H-hold on...! I-Iris, wah!"
"Eh?"
Shoved by the manager, Tae-il collided with Iris in the narrow control room.
"S-sorry...!"
He caught her back so she wouldn't fall. Iris instinctively stepped back and drew him in a little so he wouldn't topple either. The manager didn't stop. The two of them kept being pushed out of the control room.
And then—
Bang!
The instant they were shoved into the booth, the control-room door slammed shut.
"..."
"..."
Silence settled. His heels were lifted off the floor; the moment he lost his balance even a little, the posture would become him falling on top of Iris. Tae-il tensed and swallowed dryly.
"Ha!"
Seeing the two of them locked in an awkward embrace, frozen stiff, Rena lifted the corner of her mouth in a thin, nasty curl.
"The hell are you two doing? If it were me, I'd have let go already!"
Thud.
The convenience-store bag in Ayane's hand hit the floor.
"A k-kiss...? Kyaaah! S-sorry, Ayane! It was a joke, a joke! Gyaah!"
Sakuya, joking without reading the room, got her side pinched hard by an Ayane whose face had gone blank of emotion.
"..."
Iris couldn't turn her head. She was a little scared.
"..."
Tae-il couldn't open his mouth. A gaze thick with every feeling at once was fixed on him.
"Shin-chan...?"
It was force majeure. The manager pushed me. You all saw it!
Whether they had or not. A red fire extinguisher entered his field of view. Tae-il squeezed his eyes shut.