Find Your Own Bass… (6)
Fast food joint.
Before he could even savor the joy of escaping the butler cafe, Tae-il was already clutching his head.
Muttering nonstop in Korean like a paranoid schizophrenic.
"Dumbass idiot. Psycho bastard. Stupid moron. Thinks he's the damn protagonist or something…."
Tae-il was self-flagellating out of nowhere.
Ayane understood every word he was saying but couldn't bring herself to interrupt.
Tae-il only regained enough composure for conversation after his ordered fries had gone completely cold and soggy.
"Sorry, Ayane…."
"Jeez. Shin's such an idiot. Was it that embarrassing?"
Under Ayane's scolding, Tae-il nodded like a fool.
His head hung so low it showed no sign of coming up.
"Ah, so humiliating…."
His voice trailed off small, laced with unmistakable shame.
Tae-il stared at the case by his feet.
"Aaaah!"
He scratched his head frantically like he was seizing.
His hair puffed up messily like a bird's nest.
Ayane sighed and smoothed it down with her own hands.
"Calm down, Shin. Shoko sis said it, right? Everyone goes through that stormy puberty phase at least once…."
"Thanks, Ayane. Now I feel even more humiliated."
"Huh?"
Ayane, who meant to comfort him, panicked instead.
Anger surged inside Tae-il.
What the hell?
Not everyone runs away from home just 'cause of stormy puberty!
You've got no right to say that!
Tae-il felt like he was splitting personalities as he screamed internally.
Every time he played the bass Shoko gave him from now on, today's fiasco would flash in his mind. The thought tormented him.
Ayane shook her head at Tae-il's hopeless state.
"Jeez. Idiot…."
The root of all this shame lay in his dream.
Tae-il had been arrogant.
He'd always thought his dream was something grand.
The passion he now burned with stemmed entirely from Izumi.
Getting validation from Tenma Izumi—no one less than the deus ex machina of the original story—had been his driving force.
Though he'd never admit it, he idolized Izumi just like Iris did.
That such a great figure acknowledged him and didn't mock his dream had given him immense comfort, knowingly or not.
And because of that?
Lately, Tae-il had started thinking he was hot shit.
Like some average Joe who appears on TV a few times and suddenly acts like a celebrity around friends, he'd caught protagonist syndrome.
The protagonist-syndrome-stricken Tae-il had boldly declared:
"What the hell was that 'Our dream can fulfill Shoko's dream too' bullshit…."
To hide his shame, Tae-il crammed cold fries into his mouth.
"You were definitely a bit humiliated today, Shin?"
"Y-Yeah, for real…?"
His throat clogged with fries, Tae-il reached for his cola but froze midway.
"Yeah. I think you should hold back a little from now on."
"H-Haha…."
His lips trembled.
Tae-il forced a smile with all his might.
He swallowed his suicidal urge down with the cola.
"I'll hold back from now on…."
The deflated Tae-il bowed his head in apology.
Ayane covered her mouth and giggled, mimicking Shoko.
"Pffft."
What a strange thing.
When the person you like is down, you should feel the same.
But Ayane felt the opposite.
The more depressed Tae-il got, the better she felt.
Maybe because he'd been hated on by girls.
If that was really it, Ayane mocked herself as a truly bad girl.
Of course, no actual reflection.
Shin's gotta experience a little failure too.
Ayane personally loved when Tae-il got timid and deflated around pretty girls.
"Be more careful next time, Shin."
"Got it…."
She patted the back of the depressed Tae-il. Then, thunder rumbled in the distance.
Ayane propped her chin and gazed out the window.
Unlike her sunny inner thoughts—like a sunflower turning toward the sun—the sky was overcast, fitting the lightning.
It was clear just this morning.
She sighed, thinking of the case by her feet.
Ayane didn't hate rain.
She actually liked it.
Ai ai ka sa. Sharing one umbrella.
Back in the day, whenever it rained, she'd pretend to forget hers and share with Tae-il.
Won't be able to do that anymore.
Instruments hated moisture, so avoiding the rain was best.
What a burdensome thing.
But Ayane could bear this burden.
Because Tae-il would be with her.
If she struggled, he'd shower her with even more attention.
Tae-il might not know it, but that alone let Ayane overcome the burden Shoko had passed on.
"You reflecting, Shin?"
"Yup…."
"Seriously, Shin needs to loosen up a bit."
"What do you mean?"
"We've got our hands full with our own stuff right now."
Ayane was right. Tae-il still had a long way to go.
With the club formed, about two years left until graduation. He needed to practice till his fingers bled, no time for moping.
"Yeah."
Tae-il nodded in agreement.
"We're not leisurely enough to worry about others."
Mountains of problems to solve.
The band hadn't even gotten on track yet.
Yet he'd strutted so boldly in front of Shoko—his shame was indescribable.
He buried his face in his hands from the embarrassment.
She must've thought we were ridiculous.
Asking about her dream, sizing it up, then smothering it with ours.
Shoko's dream was gaining approval from her family's elders.
Modest yet grand, requiring the dissolution of prejudices and generational conflicts.
But Shoko had given up on achieving it.
Compromised with reality.
Not content with that, she'd cut off all lingering attachment by handing over her cherished bass.
Feeling indebted, Tae-il had wanted to say something—anything.
So he'd brought up dreams.
Embarrassingly.
Bragging that we'd fulfill Shoko's dream instead.
"Ah, this won't do!"
Tae-il, barely calmed, seized up again.
"Calm down, Shin."
"Even if I asked to meet again now, no way, right?"
"She said she had a dinner appointment. Forgot already?"
"Auuugh…!"
Tae-il groaned in agony.
Shoko's incredulous gaze kept flashing back, twisting his guts.
"Ayane, my dream's not that pie-in-the-sky, is it…?"
"Kinda, yeah?"
Catching up to BARD. What a grand dream.
At first glance, nothing special—just the common aspiration of countless band hopefuls.
Dozens, hundreds of bands were probably striving to become like BARD right now.
How many had reached a tangible level?
Not us, at least….
Sadly, he hadn't even toed the starting line.
Tae-il wondered how laughable he must've seemed in Shoko's eyes.
Even retired, Shoko was a pro.
A real pro who'd made a living from music, not pocket change like Tae-il.
Humiliating.
Closing his eyes brought it all back.
Her cold gaze at his confident words, the awkward, ruined vibe.
Only now did Tae-il realize the fundamental mistake he'd made.
In this field, what mattered most wasn't promises backed by fame, but skill and results.
Someone's approval meant nothing.
Shoko must've been dumbfounded.
Some snot-nosed kid with zero achievements pontificating about dreams in front of her.
And basing his confidence not on skill or results, but Izumi's nod?
Juvenile thinking worthy of a seven-year-old.
Ayane comforted Tae-il as he kept digging himself deeper.
"It's okay, Shin."
Ayane clasped his cold hands between hers.
"It wasn't just for Shoko sis, right?"
"…."
Ayane said it.
I know you stepped up for me again this time.
Thanks to that, I didn't feel crushed by the burden.
It wasn't much comfort.
Because he ultimately failed to shake off Ayane's sense of debt.
Tae-il had tried shoehorning her guilt into his own dream to gloss over it, but flopped.
I've already lightened my burden thanks to Shin….
Ayane, meanwhile, was immensely satisfied just knowing Tae-il felt burdened for her sake.
"Ayane's happy just knowing Shin's trying hard?"
"Ayane…."
Ayane warmed Tae-il's cold hands with hers.
In the blasting AC of the fast food joint, their touching hands were the only source of warmth.
"Haaa."
Tae-il sighed and gripped her hands back.
"Shin's?"
"Yeah. Okay. I've reflected fully."
Time to be honest.
Granting Shoko's wish? Easing Ayane's burden?
All true.
But the problem was the hidden motive underneath.
Tae-il didn't like Shoko.
He really hated that someone as talented as her had abandoned her dream.
Talentless me's trying again—why can't you?
So he'd acted superior, basically telling her to live vicariously through him.
And as seen, total failure.
Only one way to make up for it.
"Gotta produce some results somehow."
Tae-il chewed the now limp fries.
* * *
Shwaaa.
A downpour suddenly hammered from the sky.
Shoko quickly checked her smartphone weather app—localized shower, would pass soon.
Already humid summer heat plus rain had sweat beading on her forehead and nape just standing there.
"When's he coming…."
She checked the time, waiting for her fiancé who'd promised to pick her up.
Late even on a weekday—probably roped into chit-chat with some stubborn elders again.
"Gonna have to give him a talking-to soon."
She'd advised him countless times to firmly decline invitations on appointment days….
She felt a twinge of frustration at her stoic yet painfully timid fiancé. Grumbling, she looked up at the sky—and spotted a manga cafe sign.
"Maybe wait in the manga cafe…."
Back as a runaway teen, it'd been perfect for killing time cheap.
"Read a ton of manga then."
Shoko recited manga titles from those days in her head.
Shonen, romance, sports, even band ones—super varied. Thinking back, when she'd soured on music from her family instrument, manga had shown her other kinds.
"Hm."
She held her left hand in the air, fingering a familiar scale.
Shoko closed her eyes.
Left hand busily fretting chords, right index and middle plucking imaginary strings.
In the pattering shower, she picked out only the needed notes, continuing the performance.
Following the bassline playing naturally in her mind, in the solo part she unleashed her signature harmonics.
"Ah."
Her right hand clenched empty air.
The rhythmic bassline dissolved back into irregular rain sounds.
No thumb thump on strings, no signature pluck tension from index and middle.
Delusions always ended in emptiness.
Shoko let her arms drop limply.
"Whew. Sentimental much."
Her tense left hand gently gripped her right wrist.
Sending off her "child" like bass brought belated regret surging up.
I could still play more.
Such thoughts kept sprouting, tormenting her despite her retirement resolve.
"Ahh. Should've charged that snot-nosed kid more."
Feeling like a thug fleecing a kid, she'd taken half—and now her gut hurt.
How much had that bass cost to make?
Shoko recalled the cheeky kid, a friend of Arthur's.
"Weird kid."
Skill aside, he'd be fun to jam with personality-wise.
Fun to tease, for one.
"If he gets famous and skips out on Kohaku Uta Gassen later, see if I don't collect with interest."
Shoko ground her teeth at Tae-il.
"Whew. So hot…."
Her pointless anger made it hotter.
She suppressed the urge to rip off her furisode right then.
Bzzz.
"Minato?"
Thinking it was her fiancé, she brightened and checked the screen.
Shoko's face soured instantly.
"How'd it go?"
Straight to business, no pleasantries.
Great voice, though.
Thinking it over, past or present, he was a thug with nothing but voice and looks.
How she'd hung with such a weirdo—Shoko sighed softly at her past clueless self.
She pitied Rin, still putting up with Arthur.
"Straight to it? I'm over here heartbroken after giving away my precious baby."
"You were quitting anyway. And those kids'll take good care of it to the end."
"Still got that annoying tone. Makes me wanna hit you."
"Heh. What's wrong with my tone?"
Arthur's snickering made a vein twitch on Shoko's forehead.
"Whatever. Why'd you call? Job's done."
"Curious how it went."
"Mm…."
Shoko groaned softly.
Judging by first impressions alone felt unfair, but the boy left her unsatisfied.
The girl, on the other hand, exceeded expectations.
In her polarized assessment, Shoko gave a vague answer to dodge hassle.
"Eh, just promising enough future-wise."
"That's it? Kinda underwhelming…."
Arthur grumbled at the bland response.
His expectant attitude puzzled Shoko.
"You haven't met them in person yet, right?"
"Lately?"
Now Shoko got Arthur's eager reaction.
To her, this damn thug hadn't grasped the situation yet.
Bomb.
In Shoko's eyes, Shin Tae-il was a bomb that could go off anytime.
The boy had grand dreams.
The girl had modest ones.
Players' dreams dictate the skills they demand from themselves and comrades.
The boy's was too grand.
He might one day drown in it, consumed by stubbornness.
Shoko had seen plenty like that.
Most hurt those around them deeply, ending badly themselves. Whether the boy could keep viewing the self-affirming girl positively to the end….
Shoko wondered.
If his capacity was that big. If he wouldn't resent her devotion.
"Hm. Can I be honest?"
"Shoot."
"I think those two are headed for disaster someday."
"Pretty definitive."
Genius types' influence on those around them hurts more than expected.
Shoko worried for the girl.
Music tied close to love—could wreck a life if mishandled.
"I went easy on them today, but…."
Even impromptu teaching—the girl absorbed it all flawlessly. Bass hid it, but that innocent face hid a monster.
"Sense-wise, girl's got it hands down. Made me gasp. Why pick bass with that talent?"
"Says you?"
"Instruments choose you, not the other way around."
Shoko recalled the boy again.
For now, he'd seemed purely happy for the girl's skill.
But who knew.
This scene crossed jealousy and despair constantly.
Shoko just hoped the boy wouldn't hurt the girl by blaming her later.
That'd be too pitiful for her….
Love blinds. And the girl was blindly in love.
As long as that held, she'd run alongside the boy.
But if rejected by her blind object?
Don't wanna imagine.
Shoko shook her head, erasing the grim ending.
"All from experience?"
Just erased the bad thought, and Arthur prods.
"Yeah, you damn Yankee punk."
Harsh words slipped out; Shoko hurriedly covered her mouth.
"Sorry."
"Ahem. Good you know."
Brief silence, then Arthur asked.
"Hey, Shoko."
"Wanna hang up soon. Last question?"
"Dreams or success—which matters more?"
Shoko's eyebrow twitched.
Beep beep!
Familiar honk; she looked up.
A car with her familiar plate number approached slowly, hazard lights blinking like begging for attention.
Shoko smiled brightly and waved.
"What's the intent?"
"Just curious what you'd say."
No need to think.
Shoko smirked.
"Obvious. What else but 'dreams'?"
She hung up.
The stern-faced man leapt from the driver's seat with an umbrella.
"Shoko!"
"You're late, Minato."
"S-Sorry. The family elders kept holding me…."
The tough-looking man fidgeted awkwardly.
He fussed over whether she'd caught a chill, if her legs hurt, no fever—only relaxing after checking everything.
"Hehe. Let's go. We've got dinner."
"I'll make sure not to be late next time."
"It's fine."
Mistaking it for rejection, his face stiffened. Shoko chuckled and patted his shoulder.
"Next time, we'll leave from the same house, right?"
"Sh-Shoko…."
"I get you're touched, so let's head out. This shower's making it muggy and hot."
"R-Right! AC's on in the car."
The car glided smoothly down the road.
The shower stopped.