Heart-Pounding Cultural Festival (11)

Thirty minutes.

A stretch of theater that was long if you called it long, and short if you called it short. For Rena, though, forced to play the Sun from start to finish in front of her friends, it had been the longest and most horrifying span of time in the world.

When the curtain fell and a downpour of applause crashed over her, she had, quite literally, wanted to die.

She regretted ever agreeing to it. Prickly as she was, it wasn't as if she'd pitched in out of some belated guilt over how sharply she usually went after people. And so, the moment she had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠flung off every last cursed scrap of makeup and finally tasted freedom—

"Hehe. You worked hard today, Honjo. You were really pretty. Really cute, too. May I ask the same of you tomorrow? That's all right, isn't it?"

Minata proposed the role of the Sun all over again the instant Rena stepped off the stage, and Rena could only recoil in horror.

"No! Absolutely not! Get lost! I'm going with Shin! You could've just handled that stupid Sun with a prop!"

"Hehe. Adorable."

Minata's smile turned faintly dangerous.

Wait. Is this girl...?

While Tae-il was busy having impure thoughts, Minata asked, light as anything, "Oh, you all need to get ready for the Eve Festival now, don't you?" She cheered him on. "Do your best up there. We're all looking forward to it."

"Th-thanks..."

People he was meeting for the first time today were looking forward to their live show. The thought left Tae-il oddly ill at ease, and Minata laughed at the lukewarm reaction.

"Hehe. Is it a burden?"

"A-a little?"

"Shin! This girl's a weirdo, so ignore her and let's go!"

"R-Rena...! Even so, that's rude...!"

Rena, who found Minata thoroughly unpleasant, yanked Tae-il along, and Minata covered her mouth and laughed, soft and ladylike.

"I saw the video that went up on TokTik, you know."

"Huh?"

"I'll be cheering for you. Truly."

"W-we'll do our best to put on a great show for you, too!"

Ayane, waiting at the entrance, heard that shout and flew into a rage on the spot. That one stupid strand of hair shot straight up out of nowhere.

"Shin-chan! You've got us, and you're still wagging your tail at another girl!?"

"Ow-ow-ow! T-tail!? That's not what—!"

Tae-il tried to explain, but his hand was already caught in Rena's grip, and his ear had just been seized by Ayane. She looked around for backup.

"I knew it. Shin-chan needs a watchdog! Sakuya!"

"Thanks."

Sakuya slipped in as if she'd been waiting and linked arms with him alongside Ayane, the pair of them hauling him off like an arrest.

"I'm telling you, it's not like that!?"

He thrashed, but once Sakuya had hold of him, there wasn't a chance in the world.

"Shin, don't you dare show your face around our class again!"

"Ayane agrees!"

"Ahaha. Well, I may not look the type, but you never know. Maybe I ought to take out a little insurance of my own."

"What do you all even think I am!?"

"You're asking because you don't know?"

"..."

Silence.

Tae-il was taken into custody by Tales Tale and dragged away.

"So this is... competition...?"

Izumi found herself remembering an animal documentary she had seen as a child. Unlike the ones from Disney, it had followed a male lion with neither majesty nor anything else to his name, harried and bullied by the lionesses who were his wives.

"You watch something like that, and a harem isn't purely something to envy. Right?"

"Dear, is that something you say in front of a child!?"

"Ow! Ow! Ah, that hurts, honey...!"

She remembered that ridiculous exchange between those same parents, every word of it still vivid. One thing was certain. To Izumi's eyes, that male lion had looked unbearably pitiful.

If I were a lioness...

How would she have treated him? The question sank deeper and deeper.

And then—

Iris, who had been quietly watching the whole scene, turned to Minata, still smiling bright as ever, and asked, "You really saw it? Our busking video..."

"Why? Does it sound like a lie?"

"You..."

"Hehe. It isn't just me. Among the girls at our school, anyone who was going to know already does. It made the popular videos, didn't it?"

She wasn't wrong. TokTik was, if nothing else, an app wildly popular with the younger generation. Tae-il had filmed the video and uploaded it in the first place with exactly that reach in mind.

"..."

Even so, an unplaceable discomfort caught in Iris's throat, and she held her silence. Minata put on a puzzled face.

"Why? Does even the great Miss Arisugawa get a little burdened once expectations climb this high?"

She asked it as if she were genuinely curious. The tone was perfectly ordinary, without a shred of mockery in it. If anything, she sounded worried for them.

But Iris felt it.

This girl is making fun of me right now, isn't she...?

Tae-il was too dense to notice, but Iris caught the malice Minata had tucked so carefully out of sight. Suspicion hardened into certainty in an instant.

"You... giving Rena-chan a part like that. That was also—"

"Hehe. I'm not that petty."

"What?"

"The matter of Miss Honjo is purely my hobby. Honestly, Miss Honjo on the verge of tears was incredibly cute, wasn't she?"

"You really do have the worst taste...?"

"Hehe."

Perhaps because the blow had landed dead center. In the classroom, gone quiet now that the guests had cleared out, the girl called Minata slowly let her eyes open into slits. The look of them was sharp as a beast's fangs, and at the same time it was painfully obvious that she did not find Iris unpleasant in the least.

"Let me ask once more, just to be sure. You're actually a terrible person, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I'll admit it."

Minata nodded without a fight. The corner of her mouth twisted.

"Honestly, watching someone crash and burn is more fun than watching them succeed, isn't it? You're not like that?"

"Not really..."

"Oh my? Contrary to how she looks, Arisugawa is kindhearted. As expected of a young lady from a good family...?"

Minata set a finger to her cheek, all innocent curiosity. Talk of family came close to a forbidden scale, and Iris frowned before she knew she was doing it. Minata's eyes narrowed to slits again.

"Anyway, do try your hardest with that hopelessly clumsy band. You never know, do you?"

She smiled, faint and fleeting. Her face changed in an instant. The venom did not.

"...Unlike middle school, you might not come crashing down. You might actually fly."

"What? Hey, you shut your—"

Iris lunged, and Minata skipped backward in a hurry, fleeing up onto the stage.

"Class rep, where are we eating lunch?"

"I'm hungry."

"Kitaro, you okay? You had Honjo up on your shoulders all day."

"No problem. She was light as a feather."

"Oho. Would you look at this one."

Right on cue, students still half in costume came walking out from behind the curtain, already changed. Minata clasped her hands behind her back and smiled.

"I'm terribly sorry, dear guest, but our play opens again after lunch. If you have business with us, would you mind coming back then?"

"You—!"

Just then, out in the hall beyond Class 8, Tae-il and the others came looking for her.

"Iris! What are you doing in there? Hurry up! Rena says she's hungry and wants you to call Miss Kiriko!"

"Huh? R-right! I'm coming...!"

Iris growled, shot Minata one last glare, and chased after them with a cold wind streaming in her wake.

The students of Class 8 stared at Minata, bewildered.

"Class rep, did you cause trouble behind our backs again?"

"I beg your pardon? Me? Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean, your personality is nasty as hell..."

"Huh?"

At the blunt appraisal, Minata blinked before she could stop herself, and those sharp eyes were laid bare.

"You thought we wouldn't notice if you just kept them squinted shut?"

"And casting Honjo as the Sun, of all things..."

"The Sun was supposed to be a plain prop."

"Our class rep's personality is seriously rotten..."

"Mm. Agreed."

"..."

Under the barrage of her classmates' honest reviews, Minata was struck completely speechless.

Iris had no idea Minata was busy being hit with the facts. Bad memories from her middle school days had surfaced, and her face had gone grave with them. Tae-il, who had noticed how quiet she'd been, worried.

"Iris, what's with that look? Did something happen back there?"

"Huh? Ah, n-no! It's nothing...!"

Caught wearing a serious face in front of Tae-il, she smoothed it over at once, pretending nothing was wrong. Acting came easily to her. The moment the stiffness left her features, she was her usual self again.

"You all said you were hungry, right? I'll call Kiriko right now!"

"Miss Izumi's with us, too. Is that all right?"

"Of course!"

"Sorry. I'll pay you back later..."

"I have plenty of money, you know? Never mind that. Tell me stories."

"Band stories...?"

"Well, Miss Izumi's stories from experience would be meat and drink for us."

"Yeah. I'll tell you."

"Oh, right. Iris, Yahiro was around too. Should we call him?"

"Ehh..."

The moment Yahiro's name came up, it was Ayane, not Iris, who looked deeply troubled.

"What's wrong, Ayane?"

"If a hotshot bassist like Mr. Yahiro is nearby, Ayane gets a little... uncomfortable..."

"Now that's a reason that's hard to say to the person herself."

Saying it at all would have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been rude, which made it difficult to explain to the one it concerned. Izumi spoke up.

"It's fine."

At that, everyone looked at her.

"Yahiro's probably out playing his heart out right about now. When he plays, he really does play like a child. He forgets the time entirely."

She added that once he stepped outside, staggering home dead drunk was simply an everyday affair. Tae-il shrugged.

"Well, then let's let it go. He said he'd come find us on his own when the time came..."

"Heh. Tae-il, you're secretly enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Me?"

"Mm-hmm. Compare it to something. Right now you're the only guy in the women's bath, aren't you?"

At Sakuya's teasing question, Tae-il gave her a look of pure exasperation.

"What do you even take me for..."

"Hmm? Want me to tell you?"

"No. Please don't. I was wrong."

"Ahaha!"

"Why do I lose the second I open my mouth..."

Everyone chattered on, delighted, needling Tae-il without mercy. The live show waiting later might as well not have existed. The air around them was full of nothing but joy.

Iris, who had stopped mid-step, blinked blankly. Rena, too, seemed to have forgotten the misery of a moment ago; she was hanging off Tae-il and laughing, bright with happiness. Watching her bandmates so cheerful, Iris felt more and more like a fool for having brooded at all.

Right. Don't think so hard about it.

She smiled quietly and lifted the phone, still ringing with the full force of Kiriko's voice, to her ear.

Click.

Iris hung up and shot a thumbs-up. "She says she'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be right over!"

Tae-il, who had heard every note of Kiriko's mournful cry, managed an awkward smile. "Miss Kiriko sure has it rough all the time..."

"Yeah. Even Ayane thinks the way Iris treats Miss Kiriko is a bit much."

"You think so? What does Rena-chan think?"

"Does it matter?"

Rena said it while making a show of leaning into Tae-il, drawing his arm in and winding it around her neck like a scarf. "She may look like that, but she's already been worked this way for over five years. Leave her with nothing to do now, and I bet thorns would start sprouting out of her hands."

"My, my..."

Faced with the pitiful lot of Kiriko, thoroughly gaslit by Iris, Tae-il couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

"Oh my? Our son isn't here?"

"No..."

Her son was not in the classroom. Realizing she'd come up empty, Yoo Ha-na let the disappointment show without a shred of restraint.

"Do you happen to know where our son went?"

"I'm sorry. I don't really..."

"I see. Sorry to have bothered you. Can everything you're selling here be packed to go?"

"Yes! We can pack it!"

"Then could you pack one of every item on the menu? Oh, there isn't a limit on how many things one person can order, is there?"

"There isn't!"

"I see. Is it cash only?"

"Cards work too!"

The class president shouted, delighted. Shin Tae-il's mother was a very good adult. Thinking so, the president beamed from ear to ear and hustled the classmates in charge of packing.

"Is he in there?"

Shin Young-hoon, waiting out in the hall with a sour look, met Yoo Ha-na as she came out.

"Nope."

She grinned and popped an egg tart straight into his mouth. He chewed it with a thoroughly sullen face.

"Mmph—not here, so why're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you smiling?"

"What was that."

Yoo Ha-na bit into a tart of her own and walked the hall, mumbling around it. "Looks like they're off preparing for the stage separately. They said he wasn't in class."

"...Is that so?"

At the news that Tae-il wasn't there, Shin Young-hoon's voice brightened, just a little. Yoo Ha-na shot him a glare.

"Haa..."

A man who had the nerve to call himself a father, acting like this. There had never been such a hopeless fool.

"Let's go find Yuuna, quickly. She'll have come up empty, too."

Band or no band, the Ayane they knew would be with Tae-il. One hundred percent.

"What a pain.... Can't we just call them?"

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise. Have a little tact."

"What's she going to like about seeing me."

"Then you'll just have to change until she does like it. Isn't that right, Tae-il's dad?"

"..."

Instead of answering, Shin Young-hoon stuck his lip out.

"Honestly."

Yoo Ha-na smiled with her eyes, wry at the edges, and called Yuuna.

The instant she hung up, a woman came running from down the hall, waving.

"Sis!"

Katsuragi Yuuna. Anyone would have taken her for a woman in her twenties, but she was Ayane's mother, looking at the far side of her thirties. What set her apart from Ayane was hair falling all the way to her waist, and a bust just a little fuller.

Yoo Ha-na held a tart out to Yuuna, who might as well already have been family. "Want an egg tart, too?"

"I'd love one! Where's it from?"

"I think it's from that neighborhood bakery. The one at the market, uh, uh... what was it called?"

"Étoile."

"Thanks. It's a tart from that bakery, Étoile."

"Ah! I know the place! Their desserts are really good!"

The two women made a cheerful racket of it. Shin Young-hoon plugged his ears and looked out through the hallway window.

Students. Youth, every one of them dancing, singing, chattering at the top of their lungs. Nothing like him, who had lived knowing nothing but study. For him, having fun had meant soccer or basketball with his friends. His only rebellion had been sneaking off to a PC bang to play StarCraft or Fortress, and since the internet didn't even work at home, online games had been unthinkable. He'd made do with the Romance of the Three Kingdoms series.

"..."

The times had changed. Cultural pursuits were no longer something to be stamped out. Entertainers were no longer mere errand boys for political propaganda, nor mere song-and-dance acts whose only job was to please an audience's eyes and ears. The age of sitting in a bakery or an old tea room, taking in American and British bands as the height of advanced culture and washing it down with bitter coffee, was gone.

Even so...

Shin Young-hoon had his prejudices. A star, he believed, was something only the talented could become. And so he had thought a star who could shake the world the way Michael Jackson had would never be born in Korea, and that it was foolish to wreck your own life with no real talent, dragged along by the curse of possessing something only vaguely called aptitude, or ability.

But that woman, Tenma, had denied him.

Those jewel-bright crimson eyes had pleaded, fervent. The boy named Shin Tae-il could become a star in the sky. She had declared it outright.

Shin Young-hoon turned the phone over in his pocket. He remembered, not long ago, the sudden message from that damned nephew whose whereabouts even the relatives couldn't pin down.

"..."

There was a ghost. The ghost of a band was prowling around his son.

A hand seized him.

"Ah, you scared me!"

"Honey?"

"I thought my soul left my body! What is it?"

"What are you talking about. You're the one who was spacing out this whole time. What are you doing? Hurry up and come on."

"Ah, sorry..."

Shin Young-hoon scratched the back of his neck and followed after Yoo Ha-na. Up ahead, Yuuna was smiling gently.

"Right.... I'll just see for myself how good he really is."

"Hm? How good at what?"

"It's nothing. Let's hurry up and sit down somewhere. My feet are starting to hurt."

"Aigoo. You'll stand and wait over five hours when you're fishing, and now you're whining."

"Yeah, and?"

"Pfft. The two of you really do get along."

"This is getting along?"

"This? Thiiis? I've watched, and I've watched. Here. Eat this."

"Mmph!?"

Yoo Ha-na forcibly stuffed a hollow mocha bun, fragrant with coffee, into Shin Young-hoon's mouth.

"We're leaving that man behind! Come on, dear!"

"Ah, sis!?"

Huffing, Yoo Ha-na seized Yuuna and dragged her off. Left behind in an instant, Shin Young-hoon somehow, with great difficulty, swallowed the mocha bun and shouted after them.

"W-wait, let's go together! This woman, I swear...!"

Inwardly, he grumbled. Really, what the hell kind of ordeal was this, all because of a damn son who never listened to a word he said.