Sleeping with the Enemy (5)
Rena was used to being a spectacle.
She'd been pointed at and stared down by all sorts of people ever since she was born.
Even in solo exhibitions, she'd drawn more attention than her actual artwork more often than not, and the number of times she'd trailed after Iris like a dress-up doll was too many to count on her fingers.
But…
"Hey, this one's good too?"
"Whoa, this looks pretty. Is it because the model's such a good hanger?"
No matter how used to it she was, this was the first time in her life she'd ever had guitars swapped onto her like outfits.
Even when she'd modeled for an art gallery ad, it hadn't been like this.
Tae-il eyed Rena up and down as she slung on a guitar with a well-worn red body and a creamy white pickguard, the patina of age proving its history. He nodded repeatedly.
A deeply satisfied smile spread across his face.
"The guitar's in rough shape, but it looks straight out of a photoshoot. We could slap a 'vintage' label on it and it'd sell."
"Right? I was worried about Honjo's small build, but the balance between guitar and model feels spot-on."
"The uniform's the only flaw. The black sailor suit kinda clashes. Something brighter would suit her better, right?"
"Exactly. If we tweak the pickguard a bit, even a white-body guitar would work."
"Ah, so you thought the same as me, Sensei."
"No, is that really the point right now?!"
Rena exploded at the two who'd suddenly turned this into a critique session.
She looked ready to hurl the guitar to the floor if they ignored her.
Takahashi chuckled.
"Honjo, you don't get it, do you? A guitar's cool factor is way more important than you'd think. Ever heard of a signature guitar?"
"Nope."
"It's called an endorsement contract…"
"Basically, instrument companies make custom guitars for famous players and provide them."
Tae-il had already grabbed a mint-green guitar and jumped into the conversation.
"It's marketing—pairing the brand with a celebrity's fame."
"Exactly. That's a signature instrument. The musician who gets one is called an endorser."
"It's one of those dreams every instrumentalist has at least once."
Incidentally, when marketing to otaku, they even use anime characters.
The protagonists in the original The BanG Dream! manga all play ESP guitars—supposedly on purpose by the author.
Once it got animated, they limited-editioned signature models for those protagonists and raked in the cash.
Tae-il had heard the hype, considered buying one, then saw the price and noped out.
Never dreamed I'd see something pricier than Sugizo's signature in the otaku merch world…
And that it'd sell out in under a minute of pre-orders.
Otaku are terrifying.
"Anyway, how about this one? Ibanez guitar."
"Ibanez?"
"Never heard of it? Pretty famous brand."
"Why would I know an instrument brand? It's not art supplies…"
"Too bad."
Tae-il expressed his regret and plucked a rusty string—twang.
Ibanez.
Back in Korea, it got overshadowed by cheap local brands, but since his friends who loved Japanese gear used them a lot, Tae-il was pretty familiar.
The one he'd picked was the Ibanez Gio series.
A budget line popular with beginner guitarists in Japan.
Usually 10,000 to 20,000 yen—not a huge burden for students.
Used ones could go under 10,000 depending on condition, basically free.
"By the way, this is the last one."
"Best news I've heard all day…"
As he adjusted the strap and slung it over Rena's shoulder, a solid weight pressed down.
It was beat-up and poorly maintained, paint chipped here and there, but the mint body made it inherently cute.
Unfortunately, it didn't quite match her black sailor uniform.
Tae-il circled her.
"How's it feel?"
"What?"
"Heavy?"
"You think it's not?!"
Rena scowled at his obvious question.
"Ahaha. How about the neck?"
"Neck?"
Rena fiddled near the strap with her right hand.
Sure enough, even after just a few seconds, her neck was starting to ache.
"Can't wear it long."
"Got it."
It needed to be much lighter. Sadly, this was the lightest donated guitar here.
Tae-il pondered lightweight options in his head.
Skip all Gibsons.
Gibson meant Les Pauls—heavy enough that even some guys ditched them despite the tone.
Eliminating famous heavy brands left Yamaha or Fender.
But no donated Yamahas or Fenders lighter than this one.
"No choice. Since this is the last one, put your hand on the fretboard? Lightly—no pressure, just hold it."
"Haa. Finally over?"
Rena grumbled like she was finally free and gingerly placed her hand on the fretboard.
"Now what?"
"Gently slide your left hand rightward. No force—just brush the strings lightly."
Rena followed.
The rough scrape on her fingertips made her grimace.
"Weird."
"Where?"
"Strings, everything. Feels like it'll cut my fingers."
"Hmm."
Tae-il ran his hand over the frets she'd touched.
This one's the best fretboard condition…
By his standards, new strings would make it playable again, no problem.
"Honjo, you're super sensitive."
"W-what?!"
Rena flushed.
Tae-il strummed seriously, rubbing his callused fingers with his thumb.
I play acoustic too, so…
He called Takahashi, unfazed by frets.
"Sensei, feel this?"
"Frets? Or strings?"
"Frets more than strings."
Takahashi, who'd been watching, slid her index from the 1st to 5th fret.
"How is it?"
"A little draggy? But not a big deal."
"Right?"
The two shared a look of mutual understanding, staring at Rena in wonder.
"W-what?! I just said it straight!"
"We know. Not saying it's bad."
Tae-il took the guitar back, fretted a scale, and picked a familiar riff.
No amp, just pick noise, but it was just for feel.
"Yeah. Can't really tell beyond the strings."
"Rusty strings aside, unplayed frets stay fine."
"So? I'm not weird, right?"
"Nah. Tae-chi, does high sensitivity hurt guitar playing?"
"Not necessarily. Some pick more precisely because of it."
Of course, it took tons of practice—way beyond what Rena could hit now.
Still, not a bad sign.
It meant her senses were sharp. If she stuck with music, she could excel as a guitarist.
The desire to hand her a guitar grew stealthily in Tae-il's mind.
No, calm down. Can't decide rashly.
Before messing up, he concluded quickly.
"No helping it. Let's drop guitar for now."
"Suddenly?"
Rena blinked in confusion.
"Can you make time during break?"
"W-why time…?"
"This was the best condition here."
"That?"
The rest were risky even for him—warped necks despite dampers.
"Better to test properly at a music shop later."
Shops had good amps for real sound.
"Then?"
"Today, try something else."
Tae-il grinned and led her out of the storeroom.
This feels ominous.
Something tells her this path leads to doom.
And sure enough, drumsticks were thrust into her hands.
Round and round, back to drums.
"What's this? Me on drums?"
"Bingo."
Tae-il beamed and checked with Takahashi.
"Sensei, soundproofing solid here?"
"Come on, forgot what school this is?"
Yuuma High splurged on arts and sports. Soundproofing was top-notch—thumbs up from Takahashi.
"Great. Sit here, Honjo."
"Haa…"
Rena sighed and perched on the drum throne Tae-il patted.
The massive kit surrounding her felt awkward; she tugged her skirt hem down.
From the front, she looked like a princess in an ironclad fortress.
"No, dude. This right? Drums seem way too big…"
"Drums are big."
"I mean, compared to my size…"
"Feet touch the floor?"
"Y-yeah…"
"OK, bass kick's fine. I'll lower the hi-hat."
"Oh? You know this stuff?"
"Learned at my part-time."
Live House work was mostly drinks and cleanup, but stage resets meant handling drums often.
Tae-il hustled, tweaking the kit to her size.
Rena just sat blankly, watching.
He looks so happy…
Come to think of it, same with bass.
Eyes glazed, but expression dead serious, lips curved up in joy.
That fun, huh…
Rena rubbed the sticks.
Cheap ones—rough, unfinished surface.
Holding these to hit drums felt daunting.
What if it tears my skin…
Comic deadline not even done. Needed top quality to crush the competition.
I'm the leader.
For some reason, Tae-il's smug, dopey face yelling confidently popped up over her planned doujin layout.
Annoying.
While she stewed, setup finished.
Tae-il gently wrapped his hands around hers from behind as she fiddled.
"Whoa. Grip like this—triangle points."
"H-huh?"
He positioned each finger kindly, then checked.
"Better? Not uncomfortable?"
"Y-you're the uncomfortable one."
As Rena griped, Tae-il, who'd been pressed close, instantly backed off.
She stared, dumbfounded.
Shameless as ever, Tae-il directed from afar, unfazed.
"Hold sticks like triangle corners first."
"Like this?"
"Basic drumming posture."
Then he pointed out each part.
"Left here's the snare drum. You'll hit it most. Aka small tom."
"Small tom…"
"Drums are huge and heavy—hard to lug."
Pro drummers truck-rent for gigs; kits are preset unless massive shows.
"But pros always bring their own snare and hi-hat."
"That important?"
"Yep."
No drum part unimportant, but Tae-il glossed over.
"Next, cymbals. Lots of types, but focus on the hi-hat I mentioned—stacked here."
He tapped it.
Drummers pound it like the snare.
"Pedal switches long and short sounds. Short most—step the pedal."
Then crash, ride, three toms.
Why listen to drum lectures? But Rena quietly absorbed, just in case.
Unlikely, but maybe she'd end up on drums.
Somehow felt destined—unsettling. She scoffed inwardly.
Nah, no way it'd really happen.
Meanwhile, Tae-il wrapped up.
"Last, bass drum. Kick."
"How?"
"Pedal below—stomp it."
"L-like this?"
Rena toed the pedal down.
Thoom.
The bass drum's thud shook her whole body.
"…"
"…"
Hot.
Rena felt her face burning like it might explode.