It Wasn't Just Temporary? (2)
This was from his previous life.
He didn't particularly like drinking parties, but they happened once in a blue moon.
Usually when he had to listen to the lamentations of an acquaintance he'd known for a while.
"Ughhh! I can't deal with these old dudes anymore."
The acquaintance, who'd joined a social band a few months back, let out a deep sigh at their long-overdue drinking session.
Thoroughly buzzed, his face flushed red, he downed his glass in one go.
Tae-il was thinking about calling it a night when curiosity got the better of him. He refilled the empty glass and asked,
"I heard the old guys' band skills are pretty decent these days. That bad, huh?"
"Those crazy geezers. They always pick the shittiest songs that match their tastes. And since they lack confidence in arranging modern trendy stuff, they keep dumping old 70s and 80s tunes on me to rework."
Every situation was different, but amateur hobby bands were all like that.
There was no such thing as a perfect band in the world.
If every member could read sheet music and understood harmony, they'd be in the top 1%.
Reality was full of people who couldn't even read music properly, just improvising melodies on the spot and singing them.
And even if the sound was good? Well... Even the Beatles, who conquered the world, ended up fighting and falling apart.
Bands with half-baked artistic souls were especially prone to that.
Tae-il was in a band with friends his age, but he had different headaches from social bands.
"I guess I have no choice but to quit and get out. Damn it. At least the old guys have connections, so costs are low—that's the only silver lining."
He tossed back the shot in one gulp.
"So, you quitting or what?"
"How can I? Living expenses are tight enough as it is."
"Stop splurging on guitars then."
"No way in hell!"
He slammed the glass on the table and shouted.
"A guitar is a guitarist's soul! You're the weird one here. Don't you know even pros are picky about gear?"
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Just drink up."
"Hey! Order some snacks too!"
"Waiter! One more order of mixed french fries, please!"
"Coming right up!"
Tae-il stared at his acquaintance with pity.
Pros did pick their instruments—it was true. Each brand produced a different sound.
Professionals constantly hunted for guitars that matched the tone they sought for their music.
Some even had separate ones for practice, live shows, and recording.
It wasn't extravagance like his friend here; it was just part of being a pro.
"Where were we?"
"Whether to stick with the old guys' band."
"Right, that."
Truly drunk now, he sucked on the empty glass like a straw and cackled.
"Ugh. Tae-il, whatever you do, never band with people older than you. Your opinions just vanish."
"Noted. Not sure it'll help, though."
"You little punk! When your elder gives advice, you bow and say thanks!"
"You know my birthday's before yours, right?"
"A campus punk lecturing a working man on who's older?!"
Tae-il shook his head at the acquaintance, now completely wasted.
The party didn't break up until dawn.
Tae-il shoved the plastered guy into a taxi and sent him home.
Dorm curfew had passed, so he crashed at a sauna that night.
They rarely met after that.
The hangouts always drained his wallet with little gain, but hey—at least he'd gotten one takeaway.
"Avoid banding with people higher up socially than you."
Tae-il wanted to realize his music through a band.
He had to steer clear of anyone with more sway.
That was why he was set on a school band—or at least one with kids his age.
Normally, forming a band didn't require such worries.
They usually started when like-minded people teamed up.
But Tae-il's goal was catching BARD, which meant filling the band with skilled players or high-potential talents.
"Original members are still the best bet."
Their potential was proven in the original story.
Once finals ended, he'd start recruiting from Iris onward, step by step.
Follow the original method.
Submit a homework notebook as an original song notebook to lure Iris.
If that failed, he'd cling to her legs and beg desperately. Worst case, hit the live houses scouting rogue band members.
The Band ~Girls Do Band~ had a shonen manga sports-battle structure.
So the protagonist's band, Burning Blaze, faced a new rival every arc.
The prime example: the idol band Rock to Jewelry, who made them feel the pro wall.
Fans shortened it to Rock2Ju or Rokuju.
Even as a manga, no ordinary girls' band could match their insane visuals and live skills proportional to their looks—they were the biggest obstacle.
Besides them, all sorts of bizarre bands popped up.
Tae-il had scoffed at the exaggerated depictions—"No way bands like that exist"—until he saw a Japanese local fan's "Reality of Japanese Indie Bands.jpg."
Japan's indie scene was truly otherworldly.
Having frequented live houses since childhood in his past life, he'd seen it all.
The world was vast.
In the original, there were passing talents and rivals hyped up but never shown—plenty of them.
Most overlooked characters were guys, from what he remembered.
Mixed-gender bands weren't rare in the scene, unlike idol groups, but The Band ~Girls Do Band~ was a pure pretty girl zoo genre, so seeing a guy's face was rarer than a shooting star.
Even BARD's male members—the final boss rivals who exited first—were just silhouettes.
Pretty girl zoos were merciless to men.
No matter the talent or fame, no face time unless it was a girls' band.
Just in case, Tae-il had prepped contacts via networks and SNS, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Vocalist had to be Iris, come hell or high water.
He couldn't deny a sliver of complacency: It'll work, right?
He'd even prepared songs she'd love. Failing to snag her would mean the world was out to screw him.
Before luring Iris, though, one prerequisite: founding the club.
* * *
After school.
Tae-il visited the Animal Husbandry Club's sub-room, ignoring Sakuya's weekend declaration of war.
Second visit in as many days since Thursday.
First time, I got totally shot down...
He'd been too pushy in his haste.
He reflected on it.
Yesterday, he'd learned how terrifying a blank-faced anger could be.
"Alright. Let's do this, Shin Tae-il."
He knocked.
Even with Pudding Head—the fastest to end homeroom—as his advisor, Mori Yuuya was already there.
"Hello!"
"Hi..."
She greeted him sleepily while feeding crickets to a lizard.
Despite yesterday, her vibe was serene.
"Here to propose again!"
"Shhh."
"Here to propose..."
Tae-il set his bag by the door and crept toward Yuuya.
"Feeding time?"
"Yeah. Wanna help?"
"Uh... anything but crickets...?"
Yuuya shook her head.
Tae-il's shoulders slumped.
"Figured."
Same as yesterday.
Unlike her dazed look and speech, Yuuya was dead serious about animal husbandry.
She fed the lizards live insects for breeding reasons.
"Here ya go, Coco. Dinner time."
She dangled a cricket with tweezers toward the lizard in its tank.
The yellow lizard licked its bulging eyes, then—nom!—swallowed the twitching cricket whole.
Thin legs and head poked from its jaws, vanishing bit by bit as its throat pulsed.
"What do you think?"
"Th-think of what?"
"Isn't it cute...?"
"Looks cute, sure, but eating the cricket... kinda gross."
Creepy.
Bug-averse Tae-il sweated bullets, edging away lest she suggest he try like yesterday.
Yuuya refocused on the tank, feeding more crickets.
Her blank face seemed faintly flushed.
She was all-in on these animals.
Tae-il steeled himself.
"S-Senpai, you come here steadily even during exams?"
"Yeah. Gotta feed 'em."
"Only two members besides you."
"Yep."
Excluding the third-year who checked on cat Tama, the rest were ghost members—names only, no visits.
Yet the club survived thanks to advisor Asakura's constant checks during classes.
At first, I thought it was some weird club, but it takes serious dedication to keep going.
Tae-il scanned the room.
Lizards, turtles, tropical fish—mostly reptiles and fish.
Tama the cat was the exception.
Right now, she rubbed against his legs casually.
Cat aside, these are relatively low-maintenance.
After yesterday's rejection, he'd researched the club's animals online.
The lizards were popular leopard geckos among women—cute, cheap, easy.
Still, husbandry meant responsibility for lives.
Casual attitudes killed them.
Tae-il wasn't into bugs or animals much.
They reminded him of his own negligence.
Plus, he was a total wimp—freaked by tiny lizards or newts. Being here was nerve-wracking.
But he'd come for one reason: Yuuya's cooperation.
"Heard the third-year club president graduates soon, and it'll disband?"
"Yeah. Advisor stays, but short on members."
More precisely, official status demoted to provisional. And provisionals couldn't sustain like this.
The chairman's favor grew it, but no extra perks.
He was old-school: clear public-private lines.
Yuuya had tried recruiting desperately, all failures.
Trial members bailed at the end—too hard, too burdensome.
Yuuya wouldn't compromise on care.
For a student, the duties were too heavy.
Disbandment loomed; animals might get rehomed.
Enter Tae-il's revised pitch.
"Senpai. Add a band... no, Light Music Club to the activities."
"...?"
Yuuya tilted her head.
"Yesterday, you said give up."
"Th-that was my mistake. I ignored your feelings."
"Okay. I'll hear you out."
She leaned in attentively; Tae-il cleared his throat.
"Ahem. I want to start a Light Music Club."
"Heard that yesterday. Just do it."
Not hard. Yuuma was lax on founding clubs.
But Yuuya had one hang-up.
"Our school... tons of Light Music Clubs already, right?"
"Yeah. Six now—one more yesterday."
Yuuya looked surprised.
Subtle, but her eyes widened a bit.
She recalled three; now six. Maybe seven soon.
"I want quick official activity approval."
"..."
She nodded for him to go on.
"But official status this semester? Tough. Recruiting's hard, and finding an advisor this late? Near impossible."
But Animal Husbandry had an advisor; add Tae-il, and they'd last till next year.
New freshmen might join, but Yuuya doubted it.
Yuuma encouraged founding but sparked friction among similar clubs, leading to purpose shifts.
New hobby clubs especially: expand or shrink territory.
Cooking club split into Dessert, Baking, Western—etc. Manga club covered all otaku subculture.
"So..."
Yuuya tilted her head.
She got it, absurd as it was.
"Animal Husbandry plus Light Music Club...?"
"Sounds forced, right?"
She nodded vigorously.
Tae-il grinned awkwardly. Even he knew it was a stretch.
"But... I get the idea."
"So?"
"Still impossible."
His shoulders drooped.
"I..."
She squeezed her eyes shut.
"Just keeping Animal Husbandry going would make me happy. I'd love your proposal if possible. But..."
The world didn't bend to wishes.
Their dreams hit one massive hurdle.
"Advisor Asakura... won't approve. No way."
"If I convince her?"
"How?"
"Somehow."
Tae-il flashed a confident smile.
Yuuya wondered where that baseless bravado came from.
"Possible?"
"I'll make it so. No choice."
He thumped his chest.
"Don't have to believe me. But nothing to lose, right? For both of us."
"Even if it works... no time to practice instruments."
"Fine by me. I can't feed these crickets either."
"School might block it."
"Doesn't have to be official Light Music. Plenty of loopholes."
Like rebranding freer—raise animals and band.
A workaround, as he said.
"No activity funds. Animal feed's tight already."
"Eh, compromise. Worst case, blow the chairman away with band results?"
"Tae-il, good at music?"
"Beyond student level."
He chuckled. Even he found it funny.
Yuuya sorted her thoughts calmly.
His pitch was pure force.
But appealing. Her heart stirred a little.
Yesterday's rudeness? Forgiven.
"In return... I'll handle Tama-level stuff."
"For real?"
"If your plan works."
She exhaled deeply.
A spark of hope.
Her grip loosened; the cricket slipped from the tweezers.
It bolted from her, clung to Tae-il's sleeve, and wriggled into his collar.
Tae-il froze stiff.
"Wh-wha... b-bug just...!"
"Tae-il...?"
No scream, but the tickling horror burrowing deeper made his hands shake.
His eyes flashed wildly.
"Tae-il!?"
Shin Tae-il—faints on his feet!