Tangled Threads
Time passed, and Monday rolled around again.
The day when Monday blues struck everyone except the unemployed.
Tae-il yawned, his face etched with exhaustion.
“Haaah.”
“Shin-kun, you didn’t stay up all night again, did you?”
“Nah, I slept.”
“Really?”
He looked far too tired for someone who had actually slept.
Suspicion flickered in Ayane’s eyes.
Tae-il hurriedly made excuses.
“For real. I crashed around four in the morning.”
“We leave at seven!?”
As a member of the Morals Committee, Ayane had to arrive at school earlier than most.
Officially, no later than 7:30 a.m.
Their houses were a fifteen-minute walk from Yuuma High School. Simple math meant they had to leave by 7:15 at the latest.
Ayane unconsciously pressed her hand to her forehead.
‘This idiot probably didn’t even get two hours of sleep.’
He always acted so smart and mature on his own, but his habits were utterly hopeless.
Ayane jabbed at him sharply.
“Shin-kun, you didn’t really fall asleep at four, did you?”
“W-Well…?”
Too drowsy to think straight, the last time Tae-il remembered was four a.m.
He might not have gotten even an hour.
Ayane sighed deeply, grasping the situation.
“Shin-kun. I saw it on a TV show yesterday. The recommended sleep time for people is six hours.”
“Ayane, humans can survive on four hours a day.”
Tae-il countered based on his past-life experience.
Back in his college days, between drinking, practicing, composing, and studying, the twenty-four hours in a day weren’t enough.
Time was finite, so he had to carve it up.
The first thing to go was sleep.
Modern people oddly always cut sleep first when rationing time. Tae-il was no different. During exam periods, he skipped sleep entirely, ending up with less than ten hours a week.
Having even experienced nosebleeds from exhaustion in his past life, Tae-il had zero awareness that he was overdoing it now.
Sleep?
Sure, it was lacking. But he planned to catch up at school.
Obviously.
Ayane, who prided herself on diligence, could never tolerate Tae-il’s reckless lifestyle.
“That’s why you’re ruining your health, Shin-kun! Your back’s already hunched, you can’t walk right sometimes because it hurts, and those dark circles under your eyes won’t go away—all because you don’t sleep enough!”
“Doesn’t it kinda suit me, though? Makes my face look intense. Kinda rock ‘n’ roll vibe, right?”
“Not at all! I don’t get what ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ even means, but you just look old!”
Thud!
His shoulders slumped at the word “old.”
“I look old? I kinda take care of myself…”
For the record, Tae-il’s idea of “taking care” meant lotion, frequent face-washing, and thorough soaping.
“I don’t believe anyone with your sleep schedule takes care of themselves.”
“I guess not…”
Ayane poked his cheek firmly, as if to say, see?
“Eek?”
“Look, your skin’s so rough. Someone who takes care wouldn’t feel like this. And also…”
Ayane’s gaze drifted up to Tae-il’s hair.
It was a mess that could pass for a bird’s nest. She reached out and tried to tidy it with her fingers. His damp, curly hair tangled around them instead of cooperating.
Tae-il yelped.
“Ow, ah…! Aaaagh!”
“Are you dumb, Shin-kun? I told you to brush it regularly.”
“It’s not even long! Why bother?”
“Hey! Brushing isn’t just for long hair! Reflect on it!”
After scolding him, Ayane tugged hard on the strands caught between her fingers to free them.
A sharp pain ripped through his scalp.
“Ah, it hurts! Untangle it gently! My hair’s gonna fall out!”
“If your hair falls out, isn’t it your fault for not drying it properly?”
“Hair falls out from not drying it?”
“You didn’t know, Shin-kun?”
Tae-il’s eyes trembled in fear at Ayane’s matter-of-fact response, as if he’d asked something obvious.
A sudden memory from his past life flashed: his father had had circular bald spots.
“Sorry. I’ll dry it properly from now on…”
“There, there.”
Crushed by genetic terror, Tae-il meekly admitted his fault.
Ayane patted his head.
Tears welled in Tae-il’s eyes.
Anything but baldness. Anything but!
“At least you washed up despite being sleepy. Good boy.”
“You’d complain if I didn’t.”
“Yeah! Students need to look neat. Common sense, right?”
“Gym class today anyway, so it’s pointless.”
“You skip every other class diligently but oddly show up for PE? Didn’t you hate moving around?”
“I don’t skip PE because of… our homeroom teacher, y’know.”
“‘Y’know’ what?”
“Anyway, that’s it.”
Tae-il dodged the question.
Yuuma High School had a free-spirited atmosphere, so teachers barely cared if students skipped class.
At the entrance ceremony, the chairman had announced from the stage, in front of the entire school:
“Remember this. The ones who lose out from skipping class aren’t us—it’s you.”
Basically: We won’t take responsibility for your life, so handle it yourselves.
That summed it up. Tae-il wondered if an educator should say that, but then remembered this was a manga world. He could chalk up the absurdity to that.
Not all teachers agreed, of course.
His homeroom teacher, the hot-blooded PE instructor, wouldn’t tolerate Tae-il missing his class.
“Gym class, huh…”
Tae-il’s mind jumped to a certain face.
Even in his drowsy haze, while bantering with Ayane, he pondered how to assemble his band.
Forming one was fine. The issue was recruiting members.
His thoughts turned to the original members.
Tae-il glanced at Ayane, who was busy critiquing her senior.
“Huh? What’s up, Shin-kun?”
“Nothing.”
“Aha? Can’t take your eyes off Ayane because she’s too pretty?”
Ayane puffed up proudly, as if she understood completely.
“…”
Instead of replying, Tae-il lengthened his strides to put distance between them.
“Hey! Shin-kun! Wait up! Ayane’s sorry! Shiiin-kuuun!”
In the original story, the members of Burning Blaze were as follows.
Arisugawa Iris: main vocalist and guitarist.
Katsuragi Ayane: sub-vocalist and bassist.
Sakuraba Sakuya: lead guitarist.
Honjo Rena: keyboard and drums.
Setting Ayane aside for a moment, there was one indispensable member.
Arisugawa Iris.
The undisputed main vocalist with outstanding charisma and a voice that even captivated Tae-il. She was the perfect leader to stubbornly drive a ragtag band forward.
‘She’s also the easiest one to approach compared to the others.’
Iris’s dream was to form a band like BARD.
She’d even resorted to blackmail upon discovering Ayane’s song notebook to forcibly recruit her. And recruiting Iris would naturally bring her friend Rena along like a buy-one-get-one deal.
‘Then the problem is Sakuya…’
If he was forming a band, he wanted to recreate the original.
He knew it was greedy, but as a die-hard fan, he couldn’t resist seeing the complete set in real life.
Sakuraba Sakuya.
To Tae-il, Sakuya suited the word “handsome” better than “beautiful” or “pretty.” She looked cooler than guys when playing sports.
He’d seen plenty of handsome girls in both lives, but they all fell short compared to her.
And she was tall.
Not just mid-height—toweringly so, forcing even Tae-il to look up.
Her proportions were flawless, making her seem even taller from afar.
At a whopping 182 cm, she had the physique and athleticism to match, having dominated inter-middles in every sport back in junior high.
Even the haughty Yuuma High School had courted her aggressively.
“Shin-kun.”
“Huh? What, Ayane?”
Tae-il snapped out of his reverie and turned to her.
Ayane beamed and asked,
“So, how’re you gonna recruit band members? You haven’t gotten even one yet, right?”
“Yeah, just me so far. No ideas on recruitment. I thought about starting a Light Music Club, but…”
Tae-il frowned, recalling Yuuma High’s club activity rules.
“No teacher’ll probably advisor it.”
“Yeah, most teachers already advise other clubs~.”
Yuuma High had clubs galore, but teachers were limited. Temporary clubs without advisors existed but rarely lasted.
Bands cost money anyway, and school support required an advisor for convenience.
That wasn’t the only issue.
“Plus, my reputation’s a problem. Teachers see me as the worst. If I start a club, they’ll slap me with penalties outright.”
“Self-inflicted.”
The culprit stayed silent.
“Shin-kun, Ayane warned you, right?”
“I know.”
Tae-il scratched his head vigorously, messing up the hair Ayane had just fixed.
He hadn’t always been this bad.
It started with pulling an all-nighter composing, then dozing off at school. No one woke him until dismissal.
It happened a few times, then daily. He realized he was a total loner no one cared about.
If no one at school gave a damn, why cling to classes? Use time more efficiently.
His musical inspiration peaked at dawn anyway. He made full use of it, napping at school to compensate.
Even midterms went fine, so his skipping grew bolder. He’d sneak to the rooftop to jot ideas, sleep, or surf on his phone.
A full-blown delinquent who checked attendance but ignored lessons.
“No teacher’d advise, right?”
“If you’re club president?”
“Even as a regular member, probably not.”
Yuuma’s teacher network was tight-knit.
Student evaluations circulated among them. Shin Tae-il’s was likely rock bottom.
Turning it around mid-first-year seemed impossible.
“Guess I need a member with specs that overshadow my notoriety?”
“Someone like that at our school?”
“Sakuraba Sakuya.”
Tae-il named one of the protagonists, now in his class unlike the original.
“You know her too, Ayane?”
“Who doesn’t? She’s the most famous girl here.”
Any Interhigh hopeful knew her nationwide.
“Right. Recruit her. Teachers won’t touch us then.”
“You sure?”
Ayane voiced opposition.
“No idea where your confidence comes from, but say you convince Sakuraba-san.”
“I’m… kinda friends with her…”
“No yobiste and you call that friends?!”
Tae-il shut his mouth, sulking.
“Think logically, Shin-kun. You think the school’ll let Sakuraba-san go?”
“Uh…”
Tae-il faltered. His judgment stemmed entirely from the original story.
And in the original, they did leave her be.
Though recruiting her had twists—and Ayane right in front of him was the biggest victim.
“You know she got in on recommendation, right?”
“Kinda.”
“Full tuition waiver and scholarship, but with strict conditions.”
“Bring decent Interhigh results?”
“Yes. But hers are probably tougher than most.”
Sakuraba’s recommendation came from her absurd junior high inter-middles dominance.
No need for official sports club membership. Her feats boosted the school’s prestige.
That was the calculation.
Ayane added that rumors in the Morals Committee said even one Interhigh medal would secure her scholarship.
But.
“Even if—super unlikely, like meteor-strike odds. If you somehow snag Sakuraba-san, sports club advisors won’t let you off.”
“Hmm…”
Tae-il groaned. No counterargument.
A student already bottom-rated by teachers snatching a super-ace lifeline for multiple sports clubs?
Pressure from all sides was obvious.
In the original, Iris’s recruitment of Sakuya caused a school storm. But Iris’s background was untouchable, so Ayane took the heat.
“…”
Tae-il sensed it instinctively.
Recruiting Sakuraba Sakuya would land him in original Ayane’s shoes.
Or worse.
‘Original Ayane was a fragile girl anyone would pity.’
Messing with teary-eyed Ayane triggered guilt in normal people.
But if the target was a guy?
A lone Korean soul in a Japanese body, no friends?
‘My lone-wolf karma’s biting back here?’
It might be overthinking.
But considering how school staff viewed Sakuraba Sakuya, Tae-il couldn’t be sure.
Bluntly put.
Even in the original, without Iris leading, they couldn’t have kept her.
Yuuma’s sports clubs treasured her that much.
Realizing this, Tae-il broke into a cold sweat.
‘No choice—hook Iris first.’
Only by recruiting Iris could Sakuya become feasible.
‘But is it possible?’
Ayane had transformed completely under his influence.
But Iris was likely unchanged from the original. He recalled her being quite cold toward the opposite sex, if not outright misandrist.
‘Our first meeting didn’t leave a great impression either…’
Instead of parting cleanly, he’d blurted fanboy nonsense recalling the original.
Regret washed over him like waves, hating his past self.
“Shin-kun? What’s wrong? You look pale.”
“Nah, it’s nothing…”
He was too scared.
Whatever. Time to face it.
Who knows?
His BARD connection might help with Iris next time.
Same for Sakuya.
Know thyself, win every battle.
As an original fan, Tae-il was confident he knew Sakuraba Sakuya best.
Hook Iris, snag Rena too, and Sakuya’s difficulty plummets. She seemed impregnable only to the ignorant.
‘It’s possible. With original knowledge, it has to be.’
Tae-il steadied his shaking heart.
Ayane eyed him coldly.
“Shin-kun, you look dead set on seducing Sakuraba-san no matter what.”
“…”
Tae-il didn’t respond.
In a way, she was right.
Ayane stopped walking.
“Ayane?”
Tae-il turned, puzzled.
Her expression was strange.
Discontented, irritated, sad—all negative emotions mashed together.
She spoke, her voice gloomy.
“Ayane doesn’t get what you’re thinking, Shin-kun.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your goal is to catch up to BARD, right?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
It was a dream he’d never even harbored before.
He’d gotten swept up in the moment.
Not that he wanted to back out. From past to present, he’d chased dreams tirelessly, but vaguely, like a moth after faint starlight through fog.
Now, direction emerged. A compass in hand, no more wandering the ocean. An audacious but achievable destination and thrilling journey awaited.
But.
Ayane, unaware of his past life and wanderings, just found his choices dissatisfying.
“The dream you’re chasing is hard even with tons of effort and luck?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why recruit someone you don’t even know plays music? Is it really just her influence? That means nothing outside school.”
“Well, that’s…”
Ayane’s piercing question left Tae-il speechless.
“Why? Tell me, Shin-kun.”
She pressed close, demanding an answer.
Sudden.
Tae-il, unprepared for her interrogation, sweated bullets.
Reasons to recruit Sakuya abounded.
One of the few sensible ones in The Band ~Girls Do Band~, with minimal main episodes but expert at mediating and shrugging off fights with unbreakable spirit.
If Iris was the driving force,
Sakuya was the brake preventing disasters.
And more.
Her fame would boost the band beyond school, contrary to Ayane’s view. The original even showed Iris valuing her popularity.
Finally,
Unmentioned in-story, Tae-il’s guess: Sakuya was smart and clever.
Talents live in the same twenty-four-hour world. Their edge? Maximizing time.
Who uses equal time most fruitfully?
Her diverse sports pursuits honed superior senses and absorption.
Body alone wouldn’t suffice. Mind too.
A scholar-athlete.
A skilled reserve musician to sync quickly with Tae-il’s level.
That was Sakuraba Sakuya.
‘But no way to explain that to Ayane…’
Even if he could, convincing her was another matter.
Tae-il glanced at her.
“Shin-kun.”
She stared relentlessly.
How’d it come to this? Tae-il inwardly wept.
All self-inflicted.