Not Just Temporary After All? (6)
Having confirmed the power of Iris's vocals, Ayane was filled with complicated emotions.
The feeling of regret for not hearing the highlight...
The appeal was incredible...
Undeniably so.
To be precise, Iris's vocal prowess was so outstanding that it was hard to voice any complaints.
Even without the highlight, the emotional conveyance alone made Ayane understand why Tae-il wanted Iris.
It was skill you couldn't nitpick even if you tried.
Forcing a dismissal of such talent would only backfire on Ayane herself.
Paradoxically, it would strip her of any justification or legitimacy if the arrows turned back on her.
Ayane inwardly regretted it.
I shouldn't have invited her.
She'd only created more points of contact between Tae-il and Iris.
If the two ended up bonding over this and forming a band, Ayane would be their unwitting Cupid.
Imagining the worst-case scenario, Ayane gnawed at her nails.
She inwardly fumed that she should've just barged in alone if she'd known.
Still, it's not like I gained nothing.
Harvest one: Tae-il had preemptively revealed info about Iris, reducing the risk of being blindsided.
Harvest two: She'd scouted the exceptional talent named Rena.
Rena was an unexpected windfall, perhaps the biggest gain from this study group. For some reason, she brimmed with hostility toward Tae-il and made no secret of her dislike.
From what Ayane had heard, Iris and Rena were like childhood friends.
If Rena kept provoking Tae-il like that, even Iris would have to watch him carefully.
It'd be the same if she accepted the band offer. Rena's presence would act as a brake, stalling any deepening of their relationship.
Is there a way to pull Honjo into this?
As she pondered, the drinks and snacks were ready.
Tae-il dusted off his hands.
"All set. This should do for the snacks, right?"
"Y-Yeah! Think everyone'll like 'em?"
"Who knows. We don't stock stuff like these flower-shaped sweets at home."
Ayane eyed the scene of Tae-il dumping snack bags haphazardly into bowls with dissatisfaction.
"Auntie and Uncle are hardly ever home anyway, so it's not like you have a choice."
"Letting it slide just 'cause there's no choice is peak Japanese—sneaking pumpkin seeds behind your back."
"We don't do that! That's just Kyoto folks!"
"Pfft—haha!"
As Ayane bristled, Tae-il burst into laughter and apologized.
"Let's head up quick. The others are waiting."
"Seriously. You'd be in big trouble pulling that on anyone else, Shin-jjang."
"I only do it 'cause it's you."
Tae-il grinned, saying he couldn't joke like that in front of others.
"Shin-jjang's sneakily mischievous..."
But that was one way she felt special, too.
Tae-il grabbed the tray, and Ayane led the way. They climbed the stairs, opened the door, and entered side by side.
Ayane tilted her head.
"...?"
The air in the room felt off somehow.
Rena, blatantly radiating 'I'm pissed. Don't talk to me.'
Sakuraba, wearing a troubled expression while welcoming Tae-il's return.
And finally.
Her eyes sparkling,
"Welcome back. Took you long enough. Were you two on a date?"
Iris shot to her feet with a syrupy voice, closing in to greet Tae-il up close.
She'd been smiling before, but the temperature was different now.
Ayane, whose wariness of Iris had peaked from the video Tae-il showed, noticed it first.
Wary of the approaching Iris, Ayane subtly stuck her leg out under Iris's feet.
"Huh?"
Iris looked at Ayane, who was trying to gently nudge her aside.
Her small-animal-like guarded expression was filled with anxiety.
Is she seriously trying to block me too?
Cute.
Iris smirked but didn't cross the line, instead leaning forward from the waist.
Tae-il hurriedly averted his eyes from the massive presence preceding her face.
As Tae-il flushed, Iris grinned slyly.
"Face turning red too? You two definitely did something behind our backs, huh?"
"We were just boiling water, that's why we took so long..."
"Really?"
As Iris pressed relentlessly, Ayane finally intervened.
"Iris! Tray! The tray!"
"Oh, sorry."
The cups on the tray had nearly toppled onto Iris's chest.
Iris snatched the tray as an apology.
"There, you two worked hard. Sit down already. I'll finish up."
"Th-Thanks."
Tae-il awkwardly took his seat.
"Okay, this coffee's obviously Rena-chan's..."
Iris methodically handed out the drinks.
Everything except Rena's coffee was lemon-scented iced tea.
Once done, Iris snatched a snack.
"What's with these snacks? Super sweet!"
"It was the sweetest of what we had left at home..."
Iris's eyes lit up as she licked the sweetness off her fingers.
These were the snacks that once caused a frenzy back in Korea.
"Wanna try one, Rena-chan? They're delicious!"
"It's just a snack..."
Rena, who'd sampled all sorts of fancy wagashi with Iris, snorted but took a bite anyway.
Crunch!
Rena's eyes widened.
"This..."
"Heh. Good, right?"
Why else would junk food be so popular?
Because it was tasty and stimulating.
And why this one specifically?
Viral marketing played a part, sure, but the real stuff was delicious and stimulating.
Rena quietly chewed, lips working.
"It's... good..."
"Right?"
Tae-il had brought the snacks, but Iris seemed happier somehow.
Rena reached for another. She liked it.
Sakuraba patted the still-dazed Tae-il's shoulder.
"Good job. Prepping five servings must've been a hassle."
"Nah, not really..."
It was a bit of a chore, but not annoying.
Way better than back in his band days, when grabbing drinks cost over ten thousand won.
It wasn't pricey, and no need to sprint to the convenience store in the blazing sun.
Above all.
"Ayane helped a ton."
"Ehem!"
"Ahaha. So obvious..."
Sakuraba, who'd been debating whether to butt in next time regardless of scores, decided that was too petty and generously praised Ayane's efforts too.
"Yeah, Katsuragi worked hard too."
"Y-Yeah..."
Caught off-guard by the sincere compliment, Ayane flustered. Sakuraba smirked.
She's a bit sly, but kinda cute...?
Last time, she'd ended up bawling and throwing a tantrum because she couldn't beat Sakuraba. There was that saying about childhood friends always losing, too. Sakuraba decided to be magnanimous.
"Anyway, what'd you guys talk about while we were gone?"
Tae-il was curious what the original characters had discussed without him.
"The woes of being popular...?"
"Number of confessions this year."
"Most annoying confession types."
From top to bottom: Sakuraba, Iris, and Rena.
Ayane marveled.
"Whoa. Topics Shin-jjang could never get."
"Yeah."
Tae-il smiled wryly.
No one here lacked popularity—except him.
Looking at them, he started to feel why Sakuraba had warned him to watch out for flying knives.
Strip away the novel/manga tropes, and it was an absurd situation.
Yet Tae-il had to make that absurdity real by uniting them under a band.
Difficulty level insane.
Think realistically, sans story tropes.
Convince four school-famous beauties to form a band!
Even at an arts high school full of artists and idols, success would be iffy. This was a brutally hard mission.
Hell, luring idols with "learning instruments helps later" seemed easier.
They're totally gonna mock me.
Before the topic could shift there, Tae-il deftly changed it.
"Right, how'd my grading go?"
"Here. You did better than expected. Credit to the teacher?"
Sakuraba chuckled, adjusting her glasses.
"Ahem. It's 'cause the student's talented, sensei."
"Yeah, Shin-jjang's the talented one. Anyone else teaching, you'd have bombed over half."
Ayane clung to Tae-il's right arm, inserting herself.
A casual show-off of skinship. Her desperation was cute; Sakuraba's eyes curved kindly.
"Having such a stellar student and still getting those scores... Guess the teacher's lacking? What do you think, Katsuragi?"
"Ugh!"
Ayane, who'd been defending Tae-il, took a counter and glared.
Her eyes looked ready to pop.
"That was just 'cause I slacked on studying."
Tae-il, checking the scores, gently took her side.
"You weren't thinking of studying hard back then."
"Different now?"
"Kinda got a reason to try harder..."
"Yeah... A reason came up..."
Ayane echoed sadly at Tae-il's admission.
Izumi had changed him. Ayane still smarted from the injustice, the ache lingering in her chest.
As the two reacted wistfully, Sakuraba muttered inwardly.
What? Is there something I don't know?
It irked her oddly.
Tae-il hadn't told her, and Ayane was the one sharing it. Sweet snack or not, her mood didn't lift.
The quietly watching Iris giggled and joined in.
"How long have you all known each other?"
"Us?"
Tae-il blinked dumbly.
"Yeah. You seem super close. Ayane sounds like childhood friends or something. Sakuraba?"
"Same class. Desks next to each other."
"Got it."
Iris propped her chin, tapping her cheek with an index finger.
Her half-lidded eyes slyly fixed on Tae-il.
"Shin Tae-il, you do music too, right?"
"Uh..."
Not "you do music?" but "you do music, yeah?"
The tone implied she'd heard it from someone.
Tae-il glanced at Ayane.
She shook her head vigorously.
"Ayane didn't say. For real."
No reason for her to—adding rivals gained nothing.
Then...
Not Ayane, who brought Iris. Only one suspect left.
Tae-il looked at Sakuraba. She smiled awkwardly, scratching her cheek.
"Ahaha. It just, y'know, slipped out...? Sorry, was it a secret?"
"Not a full secret, but..."
If it were, he'd have hidden the guitar on the bed and stacked albums somewhere.
Still, the originals talking about him behind his back felt oddly disconcerting.
"Yeah. I do music."
Tae-il admitted readily, and Iris leaned across the table.
Cups rattled, contents sloshing.
"You love Ken and BARD the most, right?"
"Y-Yeah...?"
BARD went without saying; Ken was Tae-il's most respected artist.
Japanese songs, excluding electronica, all carried band vibes, solo or not.
Band sound infused everything, making lives fresh each time, varying by members' skills.
A solo's worth came down to that.
How varied and fresh the live experience.
Stage presence.
Capturing audience body and soul, uniting them.
Ken could.
Even great-song singers faltered at first lives, especially solo concerts—inexperience showed.
Diehard fans forgave slips, but the artist hurt.
Unable to show full prep before fans.
But Ken, prodigy from the start, nailed his debut live and concert flawlessly.
More: as a solo, he delivered endless variety and novelty per show. Japan's top recent talent.
Many descriptors fit, but Tae-il needed one.
Genius.
"No contest—Ken's a once-in-a-generation genius."
"Right! You can just feel the genius aura!"
Iris, who'd seen Ken's concert live, nodded enthusiastically.
Composition, lyrics, dance, outfits, album design, MVs.
Nothing escaped his touch. He handled it all solo, infusing his essence.
His works became supreme art.
Impossible not to admire.
"So your dream's to be like Ken, Shin Tae-il?"
"Levels don't match."
Tae-il waved it off.
Don't eye unreachable trees.
Ken shone from middle school.
Ditched his band post-success, unsatisfied; built his unique world alone.
Fans embraced it three years after debut.
Even then, majors rejected him repeatedly.
But Ken succeeded.
His sensibility, that alien world, swayed hearts via music—not minds.
Tae-il couldn't emulate any of it. Becoming like Ken was sacred ground.
Me, dare to?
Self-deprecating thoughts cluttered his mind.
Hmm. Better skip this topic.
As Tae-il's face darkened, Iris pegged "Ken" as a landmine and pivoted.
Actually, this was her real point.
"So, what about BARD? Thoughts on Japan's hottest band right now?"
"Can't badmouth or you'd get mad..."
"Even fanatic lutes accept critique."
Iris snapped.
Ayane muttered loud enough to hear.
"Already mad..."
"How's this mad?! This is me protesting injustice!"
"Ahaha. That's mad, Iris."
"I'm seriously not mad?"
Yet her flared eyes wouldn't settle. She was mad.
Rena, watching her friend bristle, shook her head.
"You always blow up first over anything BARD-related."
"Rena-chan! Makes me sound crazy!"
"Aren't you?"
To Rena, self-proclaimed fans were mostly weirdos.
Iris fit perfectly.
"C'mon, chill. No badmouthing."
"Hmph!"
Iris calmed at Tae-il's gentle coaxing, settling back.
"You've seen my room already, right?"
"S-Sorry..."
"No embarrassing stuff to hide, so fine. Sakuraba too."
"Eek! Busted after all?"
Sakuraba grinned shamelessly, sticking out her tongue.
"So, where to start explaining..."
Feeling Iris's eager gaze, Tae-il took a deep breath. He sensed it.
This was the fork.
His response here decided Iris's path.
Throat dry.
Tae-il wet it with iced tea.
How to phrase it.
He closed his eyes.
BARD's songs played in his mind. So familiar, melodies and chords formed even with eyes shut.
Seemed simple at first listen, but embedded experience and technique daunted beginners.
"First, comparing BARD to Ken... Gotta give it to Ken."
"Muuu..."
"Can't help it. Gotta account for solo vs. group."
Unlike BARD with pros, Ken designed his own stage paths too.
Comparing was unfair—their scales and quality differed vastly.
"Judge BARD as a band."
"Fine. I'll buy that."
"Even if an amateur rates pros..."
Rena, loathing armchair experts, grumbled with chin propped.
Tae-il got it. In the original, her young success drew endless scrutiny.
But Iris wanted his personal take, not hurtful critique.
"Pro status irrelevant here. You want my honest opinion, Arisugawa?"
"Right. Rena-chan. And I'm no total noob?"
"Tch."
Iris assured she'd filter nonsense, easing Rena.
"First misconception: BARD's not an Izumi one-woman band."
"Yes! Every lute agrees!"
"Easy to misread from soft rock, but from bassist Yahiro onward, their technique rivals 20-year vets."
Even adjusting for career and genre.
"Especially guitarist NA.IN—broad repertoire. Metal to prog, punk, alt, pop rock."
BARD's official YouTube? Mostly NA.IN's covers. He loved reworking their songs across genres.
Having that in a band was huge merit.
Old rock was rebellion-packed; legends now seemed nuts. But times changed.
Rock was just a genre now.
Modern pro scenes valued respect, rare there. Indies teemed with genre-snobs.
"Common flaw: Can't escape their limits."
Music genres were ultimate intersections.
No pure isolates; they influenced, evolved together.
Rock obsessed over sound especially. Knowing/doing was power here.
"BARD excels there—top members. Singles hide it, but full albums show experimental sounds."
They knew: Soft rock had limits.
So they challenged, varied monotony. For freshness, fan thrill, higher peaks.
Issue: Probably Izumi's timbre.
Tae-il opened his eyes, concluding.
"I think we can catch current BARD."
"Catch...?"
"Even if I form a band, we can catch them now."
Arrogant words.
Ayane and Iris, who knew BARD; Sakuraba and Rena, aware of their fame—all stunned.
Rena even smirked like 'Knew it.'
Surveying reactions, Tae-il smiled wryly.
"Dunno how long it'd take, though."
"Oh. That kinda thing?"
Iris sighed in relief.
She'd nearly fought him.
Still arrogant, she thought.
BARD was national now, eyeing Kohaku.
Count Japan's bands rising/falling.
"Gonna ask anyway. Why think that?"
"Izumi."
Iris frowned.
Her idol as the reason? Unpleasant.
"Izumi why?"
"If Izumi stays as-is, BARD can't escape soft rock."
BARD's edge: Izumi's vocals—tireless, clean, clear timbre; live emotional punches drawing tears.
No matter members' skills, all overshadowed by her.
Forced to harmonize.
Iris, veteran concertgoer; Ayane, newly hostile yet swayed—both felt Izumi's destructive force acutely.
"Ah."
Iris got it.
Even her beloved BARD blocked by Tenma Izumi's wall.
"BARD's young. More growth possible. Members want it—Yahiro said so."
BARD would advance.
As long as Izumi didn't die.
Hiding that last thought, Tae-il met Iris's eyes.
Huh?
Why was she so close?
"Hey."
Iris suddenly grabbed his collar.
"Shin-jjang!?"
"I-Iris...!?"
"Wh-What's with her...?"
Everyone panicked at Iris's outburst—even Rena.
"She's been weird awhile..."
Ignoring attempts to stop her, Iris yanked Tae-il close with a fierce glare.
Did I missay something?
Tae-il's pupils shook at her genuine fury.
"Why's Yahiro 'hyung'?"
"Ah."
"What? 'Yahiro said'? Answer straight."
Like she'd kill if he didn't.
Iris glared with blazing eyes.
"You... know BARD?"