A Single Footstep (3)
Ah, I'm screwed.
Rena remained in a daze right up until the moment she handed in her final exam paper.
Just like a pitcher in baseball who senses their fate the instant they release the ball, she had a vague premonition of her own future.
No doubt about it—supplementary classes are in my future….
As the gloom became impossible to hide on her face, Rena hung her head low.
Her temples, pressed by her fingers, were slick with cold sweat.
Even if I beg the old man, he won't let me off the hook, will he?
In Rena's memory, the chairman was an old codger who strictly separated personal and professional matters. There'd be no exceptions.
In a way, it was a foregone conclusion. She hadn't been able to focus in the study group or anywhere else, and with her already abysmal grades from neglecting her studies, there was no way she'd pull off anything decent.
At least, thanks to grinding through the worksheets Sakuya had given her like her life depended on it, a faint glimmer of salvation appeared in a few subjects. Small mercies.
Whatever. Who cares about my grades right now?
Rena shoved aside her increasingly depressing thoughts about her scores and swiftly shifted mental gears.
I need to track down that Shin-whatever-his-face guy, pronto.
It was only a matter of time before Iris proposed forming a band with Tae-il.
In fact, she'd already made her intentions blatantly clear.
When Iris had asked, "You in a band or something?" Tae-il had replied, "Not yet."
Rena remembered the dizzying smile Iris had flashed at that moment—a smile so brilliantly wide it sent chills down anyone's spine.
Tae-il had to have some inkling by now.
He'd have to be a total idiot not to.
He might actually be that much of an idiot, but Rena trusted he wasn't that oblivious.
The key is right now, with exams finally over.
Once exams end, students shed one of their heaviest burdens.
They suddenly have the bandwidth to look elsewhere.
So, this was the moment.
Rena wanted to corner Tae-il alone and secure some insurance ahead of time.
But no sooner had she hatched the plan than things went off the rails from the start.
All because of homeroom. The most mundane extension of daily life she'd completely overlooked.
Hurry up and wrap it up already….
Rena fidgeted her legs, letting her homeroom teacher's leisurely lecture flow in one ear and out the other. The man had the most infuriatingly laid-back personality imaginable.
Unlike Class 7, infamous for ending homeroom early, her Class 8 dragged it out to agonizing lengths.
How did he have so much to say every single day? Rena wondered if his head was filled with flower fields or something.
Damn, this is pissing me off again.
Being short, she'd been assigned a front-row seat, leaving her no room to vent her irritation freely.
Her best option was to sneak glances at the clock while keeping a wary eye on the teacher.
What if he already left?
Rena fretted that Tae-il might have bolted already.
Should she make an appointment for tomorrow?
If that felt too iffy, she could always head straight to his house today.
That might be the surest bet.
But it came with the risk of running into Ayane.
That girl's a sneaky psycho.
She called herself gloomy, but Rena had pierced right through that facade at a glance.
Ayane was cut from the same cloth as her.
Intense possessiveness and jealousy, aggressively hostile toward anything that wasn't hers.
Poor Tae-il, tangled up with a girl like that—but at the same time, Rena wondered if he was all there in the head.
Of course, his playing was impressive.
Even to an outsider like Rena, the performance he'd shown had seemed fairly advanced. Sure, it paled next to the wild frenzy of those weirdos in school uniforms from the video Iris had raved about for their insane stage presence.
But recorded footage and live shows were worlds apart, after all.
She remembered that even in the concert videos Iris kept forcing on her during "appreciation sessions," the bassist hadn't thrashed around quite that much.
Tae-il's playing might actually be the more sensible kind.
Fine, credit where it's due.
Iris herself had called him top-tier among their peers, so it had to be true.
But talent didn't guarantee a solid foundation. The art world was overrun with nutjobs and delinquents—scrape the surface, and you'd find a barrel full of attitude.
Though he's in a weirder category, if you think about it….
Tae-il's oddity was simple enough.
He was an outlier.
In this scene, you occasionally ran into them: pure souls harboring dreams.
But those souls didn't stay pure long. They corrupted, conformed to reality.
Or got baptized by it, as some put it.
If Shin Tae-il was truly from that pure lineage, it worried her for Iris's sake. If he was already stained to hell and still acting like this, his motives were suspect.
Either way, Rena felt she needed to confirm it herself.
"Alright, everyone, good work today. Duty students, handle cleanup as scheduled. See you all tomorrow, healthy and bright."
Finally, the interminable homeroom ended.
The class rep stood and bowed, the teacher chuckled airily and left.
Class 8, utterly drained by the endless drone, slumped over without even mustering the energy to celebrate the end of exams.
Rena sighed, grabbed her bag, and headed to the next class over.
As expected, the hallway in front of Class 7 was deserted.
"Too late…?"
Aside from Class 8, just now spilling out, every other class had cleared out ages ago.
"Why'd you guys take so long?"
"Blame our homeroom teacher…."
"You're late, so karaoke's on you tonight?"
"Screw off."
"We're victims too! Boo hoo!"
The first-year hallway was filled only with students waiting for their Class 8 friends.
Rena tried to peek inside Class 7 just in case.
She rose on tiptoe, gripped the windowsill, and craned her neck up.
Can't see….
Even at full stretch, all she could glimpse was the classroom ceiling. The lights were off—that much was clear even without climbing.
She debated cracking the door open when someone grabbed her shoulder from behind.
The instant she registered an unknown hand on her, Rena swatted it away in disgust.
"What the—?!"
"Shh."
"Psycho girl…?"
"I'm not psycho girl."
Ayane gave a wry smile and slowly lowered the index finger she'd held to her lips.
What's with her fingers…?
Rena shot a quick glance at the hand she'd slapped away, then planted hers on her hip.
Her fingers weren't the priority right now.
"Why're you hanging around here?"
"And what brings Honjo-san here? This is Class 8, not 7."
Ayane's once-friendly smile vanished, replaced by a frosty retort.
"Didn't they teach you it's rude to answer a question with another question?"
"Were we ever on 'polite' terms?"
Rena frowned at Ayane's oddly aggressive tone.
No comeback came, so Ayane declared victory inwardly, softening her icy expression into a casual smile.
"Fine, to answer your question: I'm on morals committee patrol."
She gripped the armband on her shoulder and flapped it lightly.
What a catch-all excuse.
One mention of "morals committee," and you could shut down anyone, anywhere in school.
Rena sighed.
"Ugh."
With that smiling face, Ayane clearly had no intention of backing off first.
Fighting a morals committee member? I'd just screw myself over….
Rena glanced down the Class 8 hallway.
Late as they were, everyone was too busy reveling in post-exam freedom to notice.
But she couldn't forget: Class 8 housed that notorious newspaper club member.
Clashing with Ayane here was a terrible idea.
Tch! Letting you off 'cause you're you.
Rena clicked her tongue inwardly, bit her lower lip to swallow her anger, and gave the answer Ayane most wanted.
"Came looking for your boyfriend. Why?"
"M-My boyfriend…?!"
Ayane's face flushed crimson at the unexpected jab.
Rena smirked to herself.
No one's easier to handle than a blind fanatic.
It was a classic trope in fiction.
Rare to see a girl acting out straight-up fictional scenarios and thoughts in real life, but not impossible.
Ayane was a textbook case.
Not total mush, though—she recovered her wits amid the fluster, even as she beamed.
"A-Ahem! Anyway, why're you looking for Shin-kun?"
"You really gotta ask?"
"…."
As Ayane's expression hardened, Rena realized the girl was sharper than she looked.
Well, duh—no one clueless could hack it on morals committee.
Rena glanced behind her.
The "patrol" excuse was pure BS, obviously.
Ayane being here was proof positive that Shin Tae-il was still inside.
Yet she was loitering outside instead of barging in, which meant the atmosphere within was too dicey even for her.
If even she can't butt in, it's obvious what that means.
Right now, Shin Tae-il was with Sakuraba Sakuya.
Whatever they were doing, if Ayane couldn't wedge herself in, it was a massive barrier for Rena too.
No choice. Gotta bail for today.
But slinking away empty-handed left a sour taste.
Rena stared at Ayane sullenly.
"Hey, let's talk."
"S-Sure."
Something clicked; Ayane nodded eagerly.
With her agreement secured, Rena led her to her studio.
Iris had gone home right after exams with the family servant, due to some house event.
Meaning no one else would set foot here today but Rena. Perfect for a private chat.
"Art Room A…."
"Basically my personal studio. Soundproofed, so no worries about anyone overhearing."
Rena settled delicately onto a visibly luxurious stool.
The chairman had footed the bill for the remodel—her prized possession.
Ayane sat opposite.
Rena looked up.
Ayane's gaze loomed too high.
"Um…?"
"Hold on."
Rena hopped off the stool, dragged over a slightly taller chair.
Not enough—she piled on a thick cushion too.
Now it looked too tall to climb….
"N-Need a hand?"
"I got it!"
Rena bristled, then fetched a footstool besides.
Finally matching eye levels, she grinned in satisfaction.
Humans needed tools, after all.
"Perfect. Now we're ready to talk."
"Ah, haha…."
Ayane, realizing her own eyes were now lower, hunched her straight posture a bit.
Ready to dive in, Rena bounced on the plush cushion and crossed her legs.
"So, where do we start?"
"The band?"
"Well, yeah, that's the only thing worth talking about."
Everything always boiled down to the band, Rena grumbled.
"First off, the band's happening, right? Set in stone."
"Yeah."
"And Iris and your boyfriend are locked in as members?"
"Probably."
Ayane hedged with "probably" instead of confirming outright.
Rena snickered.
Ayane's futile struggles were kinda cute.
Anyone who hasn't dealt with Iris acts like this.
Futile as it was.
Rena decided to hand Ayane the knife, curious about her response.
"So, what's your plan?"
"For what?"
"Hate to spell it out, but Iris is a succubus."
Rena rattled off Iris's boss-level specs for Ayane to grapple with.
Word was, Iris had shattered double-digit couples.
Word was, five teachers had crossed lines with her and ended up fired.
All utterly unbelievable tales.
"Get this: she never showed interest in any of them."
"Huh…?"
"They buzzed around her like flies and self-destructed. Pathetic."
The only one Rena recalled basking in Iris's favor was BARD.
"But oh? Your boyfriend caught her eye."
"That's not romantic interest."
"Told you. Succubus."
Women dubbed nation-toppling beauties bewitched men just by existing.
Iris was similar.
Her natural smile, even a twitch of her legs—it ensnared reason.
No extra effort required.
If Arisugawa Iris were a fantasy race, she'd be a succubus or kitsune.
Her mere presence was R-rated poison to hormone-raging teen boys.
Rena clearly remembered Iris describing Shin Tae-il's reactions.
Subtle as they were, he wasn't immune either.
Let those two form a band, and the future was plain as day.
"Couples as shaky as yours don't stand a chance. You'll break up with him, guaranteed."
"N-No way! Shin-kun's different!"
"You sure? Even that sporty girl pushed aside the gloomy little you, helpless?"
"Urk…."
"If Iris didn't care about him, I wouldn't bother warning you."
Iris showing interest in anyone was extraordinarily rare.
Hell, back in middle school when she'd formed her own band, she hadn't favored any members.
Just expectations.
Shin Tae-il's case was worse—expectations plus outright interest.
A girl who stalked under the guise of "gathering intel" without batting an eye? When she got serious….
"She's a lone wolf at heart. Pushes hard when she wants something."
Rena couldn't even imagine Iris in full earnest mode.
"Against that Iris, what's your move?"
"I'll join too."
Ayane spat out words buried deep in her chest.
Rena, mid-rant on Iris's virtues and terrors, blinked in deflation.
"What?"
"I'm joining."
Ayane fixed Rena with a sunken, steely glare.
A chill wrapped around her; Rena shuddered.
Ayane cupped the index and middle fingers of her right hand—bandaged from band practice—with her left.
Only then did Rena realize those finger wounds were from playing an instrument.
"Hmph. Was worried you were just a gloomy pushover, but you've got some drive."
She'd assumed total victimhood, but Ayane had schemed too.
Good.
Rena rested her chin lightly on her hand.
"But you left something out."
"Me?"
Ayane beamed.
"One: Shin-kun's already smitten with another girl. Iris doesn't even register."
"Hah…?"
Rena didn't know.
That the only true object of Shin Tae-il's affections was Tenma Izumi.
"Two: Shin-kun gets it done when it counts. Always has."
"Anyone can say that."
Rena didn't know.
That the fool Shin Tae-il's aspirations had earned BARD's nod.
"Three: You've got me too."
"What?"
Rena didn't know.
How ruthless Ayane could get.
Ayane's left hand clenched fiercely around her taped right fingers, trembling.
Her amber eyes, glowing like sunset, sank into shadow.
* * *
"You…."
Hearing Tae-il's wish, Sakuya averted her eyes.
First time for everything.
Her usually subdued complexion stood out vividly today against her dark skin.
Tae-il gave a wry smile and rubbed his nape.
"Too weird, huh? If it creeps out Sakuraba, forget I said anything—"
"Who said that!"
Sakuya cut him off, slamming her forehead onto the desk. Her arms soon enveloped her head.
"Taichi, you're such a jerk…."
Her lips pouted involuntarily.
She peeked up at Tae-il, who scratched his cheek with an awkward grin.
"Say it again."
"Huh?"
"Call me by name again."
"Sakuya."
The yobiste rang clear in Tae-il's voice.
Sakuya bowed her head.
Sakuraba Sakuya.
Similar sounds, yet hearing "Sakuya" made her heart flutter in a way the full name never did.
Tae-il's wish—"call me casually with yobiste"—hit harder than expected.
He's Korean; no clue what this feels like….
Sakuya felt unfairly alone in the emotion.
So she tried her painstakingly practiced pronunciation, still awkward on her tongue.
"Ta-Tai… chi…."
"Sakuya?"
"Arghhh… Cancel! Cancel! I'm dying of embarrassment."
Tae-il covered his mouth, chuckling softly.
"Did you practice on purpose or something?"
"…So what if I did? Got a problem?"
"Nah, I'm stoked, actually. Tough pronunciation, right?"
"Little more practice, and it'll stick… probably."
"Ahaha!"
Tae-il burst into relieved laughter at her sulky reply.
After a good long laugh, he slumped in his chair.
"Man, this feels embarrassing."
"Really?"
"Yeah. No one's called me that besides my parents."
Actually, his mom Yu Hana called him "son" more often.
His dad was the only other candidate, but their rocky relationship meant names were rare.
In the end, from his past life onward, Iris was the sole person who'd properly used it.
But things with Iris were still ambiguous, and "Shin Tae-il" carried a deliberate distance from "Tae-il."
Simply put, Tae-il preferred the intimate way Sakuya had said it—more like how his past self was addressed, making him feel acknowledged, even fulfilling some secret fanboy itch.
Tae-il eyed Sakuya slyly.
"Gonna keep calling me that from now on?"
"…I'll think about it."
Sakuya smooshed her face to the desk.
Playfulness sparking, Tae-il whispered her name.
"Sakuya."
"…."
"Sakuya."
"Report cards aren't out yet, y'know?"
"So I can't call you Sakuya, Sakuya?"
"Aaa! I can't hear you! La la la!"
Bombarded by the Sakuya barrage, she clamped her hands over her ears.
Unable to endure, she waved the white flag.
"No name-calling till report cards! Banned, period!"
"Ahaha!"
Tae-il couldn't stifle his laughter at her adorable whining.
Always the teasee before, now he could turn the tables—their bond had grown that close.
Wiping a tear from laughing, Tae-il grinned.
"Got it. I'll be careful for a while, Sakuya."
"Taichi, you jerk…!"
Occasional wins felt good.
Tae-il smirked mischievously, relentlessly teasing until Sakuya exacted revenge.