Finding Your Own Bass… (4)
‘I knew it would be like this.’
Tae-il sighed deeply to himself.
It was a feeling that hit him the moment he realized the woman in front of him was no ordinary person.
He could feel murderous intent surging toward Arthur, who was probably grinning smugly and mocking him right now.
This meeting was that bewildering.
A princess.
The woman before him was so refined and beautiful that the term "princess" didn't even do her justice.
Tae-il had never dreamed he'd encounter a real-life hime-cut woman with straight bangs.
And it suited her perfectly.
She made no effort to hide it—her entire being screamed that she was the daughter of a noble house.
A furisode with dazzling embroidery on a soft pink background, its sleeves long and wide at a glance.
‘That thing alone has to be over a million, right…?’
The unit was, of course, yen.
The funniest part was how perfectly this Eastern princess fit into a Western-style café.
‘Isn't this a concept café?’
Tae-il had called this place another world or a singularity, but a butler café was firmly rooted in reality.
It was just one of those common cafés where the butlers were in character and the customers played along.
‘But this person…’
Amid all the fakes craving a taste of the real thing, a genuine article had slipped in.
Tae-il hesitated, glancing around cautiously.
"Uh, are you the person Arthur-hyung mentioned…?"
"Yes. I am Ninomiya Shoko."
The woman who introduced herself as Ninomiya Shoko smiled with her eyes and nodded, confirming she was indeed their trading partner for the day.
Her elegance shone not just in her appearance and aura, but even in her speech.
‘This kind of person is selling us a bass guitar…?’
The image just didn't match.
She looked more suited to flower arranging than bass.
"Let me see…"
Shoko set down her teacup silently, without a single clink, and fixed her gaze on Tae-il.
Her gently drooping eyes sharpened for a moment.
Tae-il shivered at the cool, dizzying sensation of being eyed by a predator.
"You must be the boy Taichi that Arthur mentioned…"
Her gaze then shifted to Ayane.
She smiled brightly.
"And the girl… ah, so this is the boy's."
"N-nyet!?"
Shoko wagged her pinky finger lightly, and Ayane bit her tongue in panic.
"Hehe. No need to be surprised. You two make a lovely pair."
Humans are learning creatures.
Through the pressure he'd endured and repeated lessons, Tae-il had learned how to act in situations like this.
‘Not a straight answer…’
Check Ayane's reaction.
Ayane's face was flushed with embarrassment.
Or, put differently, she was thrilled, just like when she'd flirted with him in front of the butler.
‘Yeah. Better to just shut up.’
The mood was good, too. Tae-il decided to stay quietly silent.
He was finally learning to read the room.
"May I ask your name?"
"K-Katsuragi Ayane!"
"Hehe. What a lovely name."
"You can just call me Ayane!"
"Then, Ayane dear, feel free to call me Shoko-nee."
"Yes, Shoko-nee!"
"Hehe. It feels like I've gained a little sister."
Shoko's smile brightened the atmosphere.
Ayane, her mood lifted, beamed back and chatted on with Shoko.
The only one whose expression soured at the table was Tae-il.
‘She just said watakushi, right?’
Realizing she might truly be from a prestigious family, he broke out in a cold sweat.
Arthur wouldn't have left a beauty like this alone.
He'd definitely hit on her. Tae-il was certain.
The guy he'd half-jokingly called crazy was starting to seem 100% insane.
"I hear you're learning bass. Is that right?"
"It's embarrassing to even call it that. I've only been learning for a week…"
Ayane cast her eyes down modestly, scratching her cheek.
One week.
If playing an instrument was like a person's life, she was barely at the babbling stage.
Ayane felt inferior because of it.
Tae-il's dream was still far off, and she hadn't even left the starting line.
"That's fine."
Shoko comforted the dejected Ayane.
"What matters is that you've started bass."
"Is Shoko-nee a bassist too?"
Shoko nodded.
"Hehe. Hard to believe, but there was a time I performed passionately on stage."
"No way! Ayane believes it!"
Tae-il imagined a woman in a furisode playing bass on stage.
‘Whoa.’
The heavy, restrictive furisode looked hot and exhausting even to picture.
It was weirder than playing guitar in traditional Korean wedding hanbok.
"Thank you for believing me."
"N-No, really."
Shoko took Ayane's hand across the table.
Ayane squirmed bashfully.
"Ayane dear will make a splendid bassist."
"Really?"
"Of course. Choosing bass as your first instrument shows your keen eye."
It was a judgment born of misguided thinking, but Shoko, unaware, looked at Ayane approvingly.
‘M-My heart's tingling…’
Ayane felt like she might die of embarrassment.
Then Tae-il poured oil on the budding flame.
"Mm, yeah. If nothing else, Ayane's got a good eye."
"Hehe. You can tell at a glance."
"Even you, Shin-jjang…?"
Ayane might not get it, but bassists have their own sorrows.
There are almost no pure-blooded bassists in the world.
More precisely, plenty enjoy bass.
But few form bands and make music as bassists.
No matter how perceptions improve or bands gain popularity, bass remains the least favored position.
Even if they love the bass sound, ask if they'd play it?
‘Eh, bass is a bit…’
Most shake their heads.
Low preference leads to low visibility, low interest—a vicious cycle.
Misconceptions abound as a result.
The two that make bassists cough blood:
One: Why does this guitar have four strings?
Two: What does the bassist even do on stage?
Hence the joke that bassists are so invisible they can't even get a girlfriend.
With so many learning guitar to charm the opposite sex, bass lacks competitiveness.
‘It peaked in practical music school.’
Pros in the field give the same advice about practical music majors.
‘Get tight with composers. No exceptions.’
The field is flooded with players. You can network with them anytime.
But composers? Rare as hen's teeth in a world full of sheet-music illiterates.
Befriend one, and gigs won't dry up.
Solid advice.
But befriending composers everyone targets? Not easy.
People bond with their own kind for comfort and shared identity.
Composers? Fierce competition just to approach.
Tae-il aimed for fellow bassists instead.
Guitar tones, new effects, scales—sharing tips like guitarists do.
But no dice!
No bassists!
Fewer than five per department!
And those were eccentric or field-working types with mismatched schedules!
Just when you'd bond, they'd get called to gigs and drink with pros.
Rare female bassists with low field involvement? Popular for other reasons—hard to approach.
In the end, Tae-il tearfully befriended guitarists.
Guitars were everywhere underfoot.
Luckily, he was popular. They saw him as a catch too.
That's when Tae-il realized.
Bassists are precious. Nay, noble!
YouTube and other bands have tons.
But strangely, none around me.
Shoko probably felt the same.
Especially a pure-blooded bassist, even if started for impure reasons!
Ayane was like a legendary Pokémon—ultra-rare.
"What a shame. If she weren't taken, I'd have kept her by my side and taught her myself…"
Tae-il flinched at Shoko's gaze.
‘Shame.’
She was genuinely regretful.
The future of teaching Ayane wouldn't happen anyway, but still.
Indie girl bands were declining lately.
Fewer hits, many absorbed into idols.
Shoko liked Ayane.
Beloved girls are strong and devoted. They absorb skills like sponges when needed.
And they don't break easily.
In this unbalanced industry, blind devotion is the rarest talent.
Ayane had potential. Her fingers proved it.
"You're working hard…"
"C-Can you tell?"
Shoko rubbed Ayane's fingers gently, her eyes misty.
"Of course. Just a week, and your fingers are already like this…"
"Ehehe…"
"The world needs more kids like Ayane who discover bass's charm."
Shoko lamented bass woes for a while, coaxing and praising Ayane.
By midway, Ayane was comforting her.
"Um, how long are we doing this…?"
"S-Sorry."
For some karmic reason, Shoko, who'd been pampered by Ayane, cleared her throat awkwardly.
Her cheeks flushed—embarrassed to be consoled by a junior.
"Phew. I got too excited."
"It's fine!"
Ayane smiled brightly, reassuring Shoko.
"Ayane was secretly worried too."
Was she doing well?
Was this choice right?
Would she just be a burden?
Perhaps the same as Rena's feelings.
She'd boldly declared to Tae-il she'd support from behind, but anxiety lingered.
Unlike the original, Ayane started bass for personal reasons.
Just a week in.
Her teacher had band experience but little bass knowledge.
Hard to feel confident.
Couldn't ask Tae-il— he was the source of her worry.
Fear of disappointing his expectations.
But hearing a superior lament, she realized everyone felt the same.
Her anxiety wasn't unique.
No need to fret alone.
"Thanks to you, my confidence is back!"
"I'm glad."
Ayane turned to Tae-il with a bright smile.
"Let's do our best together, Shin-jjang!"
"…Yeah."
Shoko gazed at them warmly.
"What a lovely sight."
Shoko checked her wristwatch. Time.
Clap!
She clapped lightly, drawing attention.
"Now, to the main topic."
"Main topic…?"
"The bass you're buying, of course."
Shoko pulled a pink case from under the table and set it down.
Thud.
The case met the table with a sound, followed by a sharp gasp.
Tae-il glanced at Ayane.
Her face mixed anticipation and excitement.
"Is that…?"
"Hehe. The color gave it away?"
Shoko opened the case, figuring seeing it would explain better.
Tae-il hadn't expected much.
He'd asked Arthur for a beginner-friendly bass.
But seeing the contents, he doubted his eyes.
"Huh? Shoko-san, this bass is…"
"Wow."
Ayane's admiration from beside him.
Dark rosewood fretboard, rose-pink body and head—Ayane's taste exactly.
The unbalanced yet cute, girly body shape was overly feminine.
Tae-il might not get it.
But for a cute girl like Ayane, it'd suit perfectly.
Dare he say, it seemed made for Ayane.
The problem: the bass's condition was off.
‘This is mint condition.’
Tae-il eyed it suspiciously.
Too pristine for used.
No pickguard scratches, fretboard and body untouched.
Some pass off used as new when desperate, but Shoko, reeking of wealth, had no need.
"The bass is so pretty!"
"Mm."
Shoko nodded in agreement.
"Can I touch it?"
"Go ahead."
With permission, Ayane carefully lifted the bass from the case.
"Huh?"
"What's wrong?"
"Not a problem, but…"
Ayane held it up curiously.
"It's lighter than I thought."
"That's good. Wait, lighter…?"
Tae-il freaked.
"Light" was taboo for bass.
Light basses exist, but they're all high-end and insanely expensive.
Like Sadowsky's NYC line.
Even used, over 3 million won minimum, from memory.
"Ayane! Can I hold it too?"
"Sure. Here."
"Crazy. It really is…"
Feeling it, the usual shoulder-crushing weight was noticeably reduced.
Tae-il asked in a trembling voice.
"Um, Shoko-san. This might be rude, but…"
"It's fine. Ask away."
"This bass… it's not used, is it?"
"Mm. Who knows?"
Shoko smiled enigmatically instead.
That was answer enough for Tae-il.
‘No way, high-end…?’
Suspicion turned to certainty; his hands shook like palsy.
High-end new.
Tae-il had only window-shopped, never touched one.
‘Wait, and the inscription on the head…’
二宮 (Ninomiya).
Elegant kanji caught his eye.
Tae-il glared at Shoko.
She smiled again, covering her mouth with her sleeve.
Her smiles were starting to feel mischievous.
"It's order-made."
"I get it's custom, but this…"
Order-made means commissioning a company.
They build to spec.
Some companies require custom orders for endorsers.
And naturally, the brand name is stamped on.
But Ninomiya?
‘Is there a Ninomiya instrument brand?’
This was a manga world.
Fictional companies popping up? Not weird.
But Tae-il knew all high-end makers.
‘If it exists, I'd know it…?’
Then, a superstar flashed in his mind.
Brian May.
Queen's guitarist, bigger than Beatles in Korea.
His original guitar, Red Special.
So famous he later started his own company.
"No way, you made this bass yourself…?"
"Hehe."
The more meaningfully she smiled, the more Tae-il's face darkened like overripe banana.
"Just kidding. I didn't make it myself."
"Not yourself, but…?"
Shoko nodded.
"I commissioned it personally."
"But there's no Ninomiya brand, as far as I know…"
Suddenly, Ayane clapped and shouted.
"Ah! Shin-jjang, Ayane just remembered!"
"What?"
"Ninomiya sounded familiar!"
"It's a common name."
Ninomiya is used for places, stations, surnames—ubiquitous.
"Not that! Music-related!"
"Music?"
"Hehe. Ayane dear knows."
Shoko beamed at Ayane.
Her fondness already high, now dripping honey.
Tae-il could hear her affection for Ayane skyrocketing.
Still clueless, Tae-il prodded Ayane.
"So what is Ninomiya that's got you so excited?"
"Ninomiya Traditional Instruments!"
"Wagakki…?"
Wagakki.
Japanese traditional instruments.
Like taiko drums, shamisen.
Ayane answered confidently.
"Saw it on an A/S form when helping student council with music room inventory!"
Tae-il sorted his thoughts.
"So… the Ninomiya family makes wagakki?"
"Correct."
"Yay! Got it right!"
Shoko clapped delightedly.
Ayane cheered; Tae-il blinked like an idiot.
"A wagakki family made a bass…?"
"The Ninomiya artisans crafted it."
Wagakki makers doing bass?
Possible?
Tae-il stared bewildered.
"The byproduct of an adult's childish whim."
Shoko caressed the bass lovingly.
One-of-a-kind, her personal bass.
She'd overseen every detail, from raw materials to head and body.
"Arthur's timing shocked me when he called."
"Arthur-hyung?"
"Yes. He always nails the timing."
Shoko chuckled, closing the case.
"Ah…"
Ayane sighed wistfully.
"No worries."
Shoko soothed her.
"This one's yours now, Ayane dear."
"R-Really!?"
Shoko nodded.
Surprise faded to doubt.
"B-But is this okay? Shin-jjang said basses are expensive…"
"That's why I came all this way."
Shoko chuckled at Ayane's unease from pure kindness.
Tae-il was the same.
His mind raced with cost-benefit math.
"Um, I mean, Shoko-san, that's…"
"Ask freely."
"Is it alright…?"
"I can guess what you're asking."
Shoko nodded; Tae-il inhaled deeply.
"Even so, the price…"
Bass isn't cheap. New, not used—uncomfortable for both.
High-end new? Unbearably awkward.
Shoko smirked at the expected question.
"You could pay if I named the price?"
"Ugh…"
Astronomical figures silenced Tae-il.
"Too burdensome for students, I see."
"Obviously…"
(Even adults would balk.)
"Um, Shin-jjang."
Ayane, who'd watched quietly, poked his side. Anxiety on her face.
"How much is this bass anyway?"
"At least just under a year's tuition for us…"
"Our school's yearly tuition…?"
Private high school.
Tuition pricier than average.
Ayane's brain short-circuited.
In short, one bass equaled a year's schooling for her.
Unique in the world, premium could inflate it more.
Tae-il recalled limited-edition electric guitars from anime characters selling for over ten million.
"Hieek!?"
Ayane finally grasped it and yelped.
Now both their faces turned zombie-gray.
"We can't possibly pay for this!?"
"Ahahaha!"
Ayane's realistic panic made Shoko burst out laughing for the first time.
"E-Even with my monthly allowance, h-how many years…?"
"Give up. Our allowances won't cut it."
"Hieek!?"
Ayane clung to Tae-il in horror.
Shoko pounded the table, wheezing with laughter.
"Ahaha! Your reactions are hilarious!"
"We don't look like we shouldn't freak out!?"
Tae-il's cry was desperate.
Last night, on the phone with Arthur:
"Get me a decent used bass."
"Got it. Other conditions?"
"Uh, friend discount, heavy?"
"And?"
"That's it… Oh, lightweight and beginner-friendly for a girl."
"Roger. Leave it to me."
That was the gist.
But the seller brought new, custom, high-end.
"I only brought 70,000 yen!"
"A student with that much?"
"I saved for years!?"
It was for a bass he'd long wanted.
Tae-il planned to use it for their new instruments, even if used.
But this rich girl brought high-end custom to deal with students—what was she thinking?
Too much.
Even a simple gift felt like a bomb now.
Where'd Japanese "modest gift" etiquette go?
Not applicable to the rich?
Shoko pondered Tae-il's outburst, then nodded.
"Fine. For your sincerity, I'll sell Taichi-boy's bass at that price."
"Huh?"
Wait, then Ayane's?
"Naturally. Ayane dear doesn't need to pay."
"You're not joking…?"
Tae-il's face was near tears.
"E-Ehehe…?"
Ayane's soul had briefly vacated.
"This is still too weird!"
Tae-il protested again.
Too expensive for free.
Not jealousy—he'd react the same if it were his.
But Shoko tilted her head, baffled.
"What's illogical?"
"Who gives away a one-of-a-kind instrument made for themselves to a total stranger!?"
Tae-il appealed to emotion over logic.
No amount of money justifies that madness.
Not even for the most beloved lover.
Only master-disciple or blood ties.
Sure, famous violinists give away priceless ones.
But after proving mastery and fame.
Ayane's first meeting with Shoko.
No exceptional skill—just a week-old newbie.
Pure-blood bass?
Bled for a week?
Free high-end for that? Scammers don't go this far.
Shoko smiled wryly at Tae-il's barrage.
The owner offering it free, yet such fervent refusal.
Fun kids.
‘No.’
Maybe because they're still pure-hearted.
‘No helping it.’
They'd die before accepting.
‘I came to shake my attachment, but…’
Shoko smiled wryly at their defiance.
"That's why I said."
With a truly helpless expression.
"His timing is uncanny."