It Wasn't Just Temporary...? (7)
"Huh?"
Did I mess up somehow?
Tae-il's brain froze for a moment.
His mind went completely blank.
He'd always been terrible at handling sudden situations, just like back then.
How flustered had he gotten during that sound mishap on stage ages ago?
The sound engineer had been yelling through his in-ear monitor, but Tae-il's thoughts had short-circuited, and he'd stupidly tried to adjust the audio himself, ruining the whole performance.
Same thing now.
His mind blanked out, and his mouth was about to spew whatever nonsense his survival instincts threw up.
"Wanna tell me?"
Iris yanked Tae-il closer by his collar.
Close enough that their lips nearly brushed. The scent of her lemon iced tea wafted over him.
Her finely sculpted face filled his shaking vision, like he'd hopped on a scream machine.
That violently beautiful allure kickstarted his stalled brain.
As reason returned, his gaping, fish-like lips finally clamped shut.
But Iris still gripped his collar tight.
"Shin Tae-il, you know someone from BARD, right?"
"…."
Tae-il inwardly kicked himself.
Why the hell did I do that?
Even he had to admit calling him "hyung" had come way too naturally.
Lately, every time he consulted Yahiro about the band, the guy had nagged him to call him "hyung," and the habit had stuck.
Tae-il was one of the youngest in the scene anyway, so calling people "hyung" or "noona" wasn't a big deal.
The first time was awkward, but later he'd parrot it like a myna bird, teasing them endlessly. That's how casually he'd called Yahiro "hyung."
Anyone else might've brushed it off. In this world, calling someone skilled "aniki" was standard—no matter if they were a potbellied salaryman twice your age.
Everyone knew it was just banter.
But would Iris see it that way? Tae-il wasn't sure.
"Uh, well, y'see…."
"Y'see?"
Of course they knew each other. But he couldn't just blurt that out.
Human relationships were such a pain.
People never believed outlandish stories, even told straight.
He knew from his past life—just how much effort it took to sell one truth, thanks to that one hip-hop artist.
Plus, bragging about his BARD connections to Iris wasn't smart.
She might think I'm scamming her.
The rooftop encounter flashed in his mind.
Iris boldly declaring herself a Lute. Boasting about being a first-gen with single-digit numbering. He hadn't been able to admit he was the 0th-gen #1 fan.
Same deal now.
If only the truth were halfway normal, he could've been upfront. But even to him, it sounded ridiculous, and explaining it to Iris? Way too complicated.
"I'm actually BARD's very first fan."
"I had a huge hand in creating their millennial hit title track."
"Not just Izumi and Yahiro—I got all the members' personal contacts?"
"I boldly declared in front of BARD that I'd catch up to them someday?"
Even thinking about it made his head spin.
Ayane might not have believed it if she hadn't witnessed it herself.
At this point, even non-Lutes might call it some cheesy teen drama.
Should I just lie?
But even a full lie wouldn't get him out of this.
After agonizing, Tae-il chose a vague mix of truth and fib.
"On a personal level… he's like a hyung to me…."
He spat out the truth Iris wanted, focusing his connection on just Yahiro.
"For real!?"
Iris's eyes went wide as she glomped onto Tae-il like a hug.
Her violently mid-sized assets, barely brushing before, now pressed right up against him.
"You're really acquaintances with BARD's Yahiro!?"
"Th-that's touching me, so, uh…!"
"Get off Shin-kun!"
Ayane wedged in late, prying them apart.
But Iris, undeterred, flushed with excitement, shoved Ayane between them and hugged Tae-il again.
"Eek!"
Ayane, sandwiched between Iris and Tae-il, let out a pained groan.
"You really know Yahiro? So the other members too? What about Izumi…?"
"N-no, just Yahiro-hyung…."
"Really?"
Iris grilled him with a beaming smile.
That grin was terrifying.
"I was his mana—"
"Hey, Titty!"
Rena cut Iris off….
"Ahaha. Iris, I get you're excited, but back off a bit. You're gonna kill Katsuragi."
"Oh, sorry…."
Sakuya timed it perfectly, playing backup to forcibly peel the hyped Iris away.
The freed Ayane melted limply into Tae-il's arms.
Iris's lips twitched.
Her face brimmed with the burning urge to ask a million questions.
"Wait a sec. Hey, Titty."
"Rena-chan?"
"Come with me for a bit."
Rena grabbed Iris and started dragging her out.
"Rena-chan! I still have tons to ask Shin Tae-il…!"
"Shut it!"
Iris kept craning back toward Tae-il, but at Rena's outburst, she hung her head like a criminal and got hauled off.
Once the typhoon passed, Tae-il collapsed to the floor like a trampled cornfield.
"Huuuh…."
"Haha. Felt good, huh? Bigger than mine, even."
Tae-il's eyes had unconsciously drifted to Sakuya's chest; he jolted and slapped his hands over his face.
Sakuya smirked at his virgin-boy reaction.
"Wh-what did I just say…?"
"Don't remember?"
"My head's spinning. She's way too aggressive."
"We'll hear you out, at least. Where'd she get you?"
"Face."
"Ah."
Sakuya nodded with a deflated look.
"Yeah, that's pretty violent."
No guy could resist a plea from that face.
"She's literally violent!"
"Ayane?"
"Totally violent! So Shin-kun! Let's pretend that didn't happen…."
"What're you talking about? You brought Iris here, Katsuragi."
"Ughhh…."
Ayane slumped at Sakuya's jab.
As the two melted down, Sakuya stood and pressed her ear to the door.
No murmurs from the other side.
"Hm. Looks like they went down to the first floor, not just the second."
"We're screwed."
"What now?"
"I keep remembering how it felt against my chest. Covering my eyes just makes me imagine it better."
Tae-il dropped his hands from his face and stared blankly at the ceiling.
"I'm such a perv."
"That's rough…."
Even a herbivore guy wouldn't go this far.
Sakuya eyed the self-loathing Tae-il pitifully, then nudged Ayane with her foot.
"Katsuragi, you don't hit on him much?"
"I-I did, but…."
Ayane, unusually downcast, hugged her own chest.
"That's impossible…."
Innate overwhelming mid differences weren't something childhood friends could just overcome.
"Ahaha. Want me to step in? I could probably rub up on Iris a bit."
"Absolutely not! Forbidden! No contact!"
"Ahahat!"
As the two bantered, Iris and Rena returned.
Rena looked exhausted; Iris was back to her beaming, relaxed self. She peered down at the still-sprawled Tae-il.
"Sorry, sorry! I got too excited without realizing. You okay, Shin Tae-il?"
"Y-yeah…."
Tae-il accepted her apology readily.
"Your clothes okay? I grabbed kinda hard without thinking."
"It's not expensive, and no rips, so… fine."
"Good. Glad to hear it."
It might've even been a bonus.
Iris kept smiling as she bent down, extending a hand. Thinking it was a handshake, Tae-il reached out reflexively.
"Huh?"
Not a handshake.
Iris's both hands clasped his right one.
Gently.
Her fingertips teasingly traced the calluses on his fingers.
"Arisugawa?"
"Mind doing me a favor?"
Her expression was so earnest that Tae-il nodded without even hearing what it was.
* * *
"Play something?"
"Yeah! Think you could…?"
Tae-il was stumped by Iris's request.
He only had an acoustic guitar.
The lone exception was his cousin's old bass—neck and fretboard smashed.
In his past life, he'd scavenged it after his cousin tossed it. Here, he had no idea why it was in his room, but he'd never questioned it.
He might've even felt off without it.
"Just one song! I love people who can really play bass!"
Iris pleaded for one song on bass.
Unfair.
Tae-il never knew natural red eyes— not his contact-lens fakes—could be so stunningly alluring.
"C-couldn't you settle for guitar?"
"No way! If you're Yahiro's disciple, you gotta play bass, right?"
Obviously. But Tae-il glanced awkwardly at Ayane.
She was the only one who knew his BARD ties.
But she had no clever fix, and that busted bass sure wasn't playable.
As everyone floundered, Sakuya suggested:
"There's a practice room nearby, right? They do instrument rentals."
"Yeah, there is…."
Tae-il frequented it for practice.
The owner had made him a full-on regular after five-plus years.
"Then let's go there! I'll cover all costs!"
"Sigh…."
Rena sighed, as if advice was pointless.
"Hey, idiot. We're in the middle of a study group."
"Studying's fine if you half-ass it and still pass! Sorry in advance, Rena-chan!"
"You little—!"
"You kept messing up 'cause your focus was shot, Rena-chan!"
Rena's eyebrow twitched.
All true, no rebuttal possible.
"Shin Tae-il doesn't need to worry! Rena-chan fails anyway, so just pretend she's not there!"
"I swear I'm gonna beat your—"
Ignoring Rena fuming alone, Tae-il glanced at Sakuya.
The group's purpose was crumbling.
Tae-il was confident he'd dodge fails in iffy subjects thanks to Wednesday sessions, but he felt bad for Sakuya, the organizer.
"Whatever."
Sakuya caught on with a grin and shrug.
"We're meeting again tomorrow anyway."
Quietly.
So no one else heard.
Tae-il reluctantly accepted Iris's request.
* * *
There was once an indie band like that.
Lead The Way
When Japanese bands were shifting mainstream, they stubbornly stuck to heavy metal.
Disbanded now, but their guitarist used band earnings—plus a loan—to open a solid practice room for juniors.
Live houses nearby meant business boomed.
Delinquent bands mornings, students afternoons, salarymen nights.
Packed nonstop.
Instrument rentals sweetened the deal—cash flowed easy.
Stocking pricey or quirky guitars drew curious tryers.
Strings sold separately? Nice side profit. Novices snapped them like crazy—too many to count.
Today, rooms were near full.
Lunch rush left a few empty, but they'd fill soon. The manager slurped cup ramen, watching a comedian variety show.
Ding-a-ling.
"Welcome."
Typical crowd: more guys than girls, girls usually keys or vocals.
Standard neighborhood spot, but big shots dropped in sometimes.
Project bands or famous utaite producers with session players? Manager loved it—good sounds.
But this group? Different.
Manager gawked at the dazzling visitors, manners be damned.
"A flower field. Flowers blooming before my eyes. More vibrant and fragrant than any stage I've rocked…!"
"Quit blubbering and hand over the key, old man."
The tomboyish voice snapped him out; he handed over Room 7 key with a shrug.
Tae-il's usual.
"What's the occasion? Bringing all these girls."
"Not the first time."
Ayane and Sakuya, passing Tae-il, perked up their ears.
"True, but those were all older than you."
Manager had envied Tae-il snuggling up to the "noonas."
Heavy metal star among guys, but girls? Nada.
Even as top guitarist.
Vocals got the love—probably face gap, he mused.
Damn looksism.
"Happened somehow. Oh, the usual bass rental."
"Yeah, but strings snapped recently—extra charge."
"Who the hell snaps bass strings?"
Tough as hell; even maniac practicers changed every three months if tone went off. And someone broke 'em.
Tae-il stared in disbelief; manager shrugged.
"Hey, dozens rotate through—shit happens."
"Bass intact?"
"Checked it—nuts loose, but fixed now. Otherwise perfect."
"Phew."
Tae-il sighed in relief.
Manager chuckled, thanking heavens too.
"Usual stainless?"
"Yep."
Manager passed strings. As the girls piled into the room, he leaned in, pinky-hooking discreetly for Tae-il's eyes only.
"Anyway, this the real deal?"
"Nah."
Tae-il sighed denial; manager propped his chin, feigning regret.
"Shame. Newbie band I don't know?"
"Not yet."
Not yet.
Manager grinned at the quiet add-on.
"Something to look forward to?"
"Judge for yourself later."
Tae-il grabbed bass and pliers, heading in.
"Lucky bastard."
Manager whistled softly.
Band vet eyes: skills aside, visuals screamed mid-tier success at least.
Damn looksism.
* * *
Tae-il entered the practice room, embarrassed by the stares.
"Uh, yeah…?"
Iris approached with a jolly laugh at his dumb question.
"This place is fun! First time in a practice room!"
"Not much fun…."
Just cheap drums, synth, beat-up maker amps.
Tae-il favored Room 7 for the familiar amp from his past life.
"Nah, it's fun. Messed with the synth before you got here?"
"Pure noise."
Rena snarked, tapping the cymbals.
"Rena-chan, meanie!"
Iris giggled anyway.
Already a bundle of energy before, she was amped here—like the room's vibe fueled her.
Sakuya, against the wall, wryly shrugged.
"Practice rooms change people. Thought she did a line."
"Whoa…."
"Drugs? Harsh! People get hyped sometimes!"
"Hyped people don't scream and mash keys, Iris."
"Nitpicker!"
Iris pouted her lips out.
Tae-il quietly approached Ayane, slumped against the wall.
"You good?"
"Exhausted…."
Ayane smiled hollowly, realizing over-enthusiasm drained you.
"I don't vibe with her…."
"Pfft."
Tae-il burst out laughing. Polar opposites in the original too.
"So when's the show, Shin Tae-il?"
"Strings first. Someone snapped 'em."
Tae-il sat, setting down the bass. As he worked, Ayane—secretly practicing bass—and even Rena snuck peeks.
"How long to restring?"
"Quick."
Thread thickest 4th through bridge, measure, snip excess with pliers.
Then 3rd, 2nd, thinnest 1st same way. Double-check winding, then tune.
Sakuya crouched, poking a string curiously.
Ting.
"Neat. I wouldn't know, but can Taichi tell?"
"Like you know how to warm up for sports. Same thing."
Coaxing your ideal sound.
Optimization.
"Bass is easy anyway. Limited repertoire—pros aside, tuning recipes are standard."
"Guitar different?"
"Rock bands vary."
Guitars match band types.
Genre diffs, sound diffs, design diffs—endless factors.
Highest demand, wildest supply.
"Only drums in rock match guitar hassle."
"Drums?"
"Tuneable, apparently. Super complex."
Iris answered Sakuya's question. Fan with experience.
Ayane nodded quietly, filing the trivia.
"Only sound-obsessed drummers or bands care. School/cover bands? Nah."
"Yeah, basics suffice—listeners don't mind."
"Tune masters hang with their own anyway."
Tune nut in a casual band? Nuisance.
Cheap rooms max 100k yen long haul; high-end? Million daily easy.
Project bands for recordings hit pricey spots—tuning all day? Ultimate nuisance.
"Okay. Done."
Tae-il stood, slung the bass, plugged into amp. Manager's spot—warmed quick.
Body-stretching familiar bassline riff, headstock twist for final tweak. Nodded satisfied.
Sound hit the mark; he looked up.
"What to play?"
"Eh?"
"You asked for a performance. Got a request?"
"Then BARD's 'Drunk Landscape'."
"Tough one."
"Ehehe."
Lucky break for Tae-il.
Drunk Landscape: BARD hit, Yokohama baseball cheer song—chords all memorized.
Sip.
Tae-il inhaled.
Performing for others: ages.
Sessions with band buds here were casual fun, not serious.
Drunk Landscape: Yahiro's debut year 3 solo write/compose.
BARD songs looked easy, sang tough. This? Vocally friendly.
Bass-forward opener, Muse-loving taste infused. Lyrics not too abstract—drunk happy worldview, bit meandering.
Rumor: lyrics penned wasted.
Tae-il pictured the playthrough, snapped fingers.
Yahiro virgin work—no complex structure.
But nail a solid tune into wow-factor.
Original members watching up close. Image set here.
Leading them later? Solid skill anchors.
Tae-il moved fingers carefully.
No dumb speed runs. Knew his limits: effortful amateur solid, major leagues no.
But catchable by talentless kid? Nah.
Grinning at Iris—like a kid eyeing Santa's gifts—he curled his lips up.
Make ordinary epic.
Daily demand for a bassist.