Flower and Bird Relations (2)
10 a.m.
Tae-il prided himself on his ability to spring out of bed at the slightest nudge to his strengths.
His eyes snapped open without an alarm, and like any modern person, he reflexively checked his phone on the nightstand the moment his upper body lifted.
"Let's see..."
He wasn't the type to get many messages from others—a true loner—but it was a habit carried over from his previous life, impossible to shake.
Anyone bold enough to message him always had business with him anyway, so it wasn't a bad habit at all.
Of course, there were exceptions.
Mostly pointless nonsense from Arthur.
"This guy's at it again..."
Ignoring the self-absorbed message with ease, Tae-il instinctively opened Sakuya's first.
Reading Sakuya's request for cheers, Tae-il tilted his head.
"Our school's got a direct seed to the finals, though...?"
Yuuma High might not excel everywhere, but it took arts and athletics seriously, churning out promising talents left and right.
Most sports had already secured top results, guaranteeing at least finals seeding.
"Where's the schedule..."
Tae-il rummaged through his bag tossed haphazardly under the bed and pulled out the Yuuma High Athletics Club's Interhigh schedule.
The school made finals in every tournament like it was breakfast, so they handed out personal schedules.
Free classes often had group cheering events scheduled.
Sadly, Class 7 was stacked with athletics kids, so no group cheers were planned.
"Yup. Starts tomorrow afternoon."
Today, only canoeing and fencing had Yuuma starting from prelims.
Tae-il was more surprised that canoeing was even a student sport.
Near the bottom of the schedule was something called Shaolin Kung Fu—blank, no participants.
'Shaolin Kung Fu? What even...'
Sounded like it belonged in China, not Japan.
Tae-il stared at the schedule in disbelief for a moment before flicking his eyes back to his smartphone.
How to reply...
"Hmm..."
His gaze flicked to the time.
She'd have eaten breakfast by now.
On a normal athletics schedule, she'd be deep in morning practice.
Logically, he should text and ask—but...
'She's got some nerve...'
He'd planned to text first and call if urgent, but instead, he hit call outright.
Ring ring.
[Ah, this is Sakuraba Sakuya.]
The signal connected in under two seconds, her voice following right away.
Tae-il let out a hollow chuckle.
"Picking up like that? Guess no match today after all."
[Ahaha. Busted?]
Hearing her familiar laugh, Tae-il flopped back onto the bed.
His vision shook wildly up and down.
As the mattress settled, he asked,
"What're you up to? Not practice if you answered."
[Right. Couldn't pick up mid-training. Just light warm-ups now.]
Tae-il nodded, understanding the slight excitement in her voice.
This year's Interhigh was in Gunma Prefecture.
Not all events were there—too many participants—but luckily, Sakuya's were all local.
True to form, Yuuma had booked accommodations early for peak condition, whisking athletes away right after Friday's closing ceremony.
Sakuya was one of them.
"So, how's the food in shady-old Gunma?"
[Ahaha. What's this, Taichi? Finally brushed up on Japanese geography and feeling cocky?]
Caught out, Tae-il let out a small grunt.
Sakuya giggled before answering.
[Typical stamina food. Oh, but the udon here's pretty good.]
She added she'd grab gyoza from a famous spot today.
Tae-il grimaced at the utterly ordinary lineup.
"Japan's the land of udon and ramen or what? Every region you ask 'what's good?'—udon or ramen."
[Ahaha!]
Sakuya burst out laughing at his mutter.
[True. Kinda like that. Means Japanese people are serious about noodles, right?]
"Pass on that seriousness. Matches start tomorrow?"
[Yup. Afternoon.]
"Wanna cheer you on?"
[You coming all the way to Gunma?]
Sakuya sounded a bit troubled.
"Problem?"
[I'd love it, but Interhigh staff everywhere—lodging's a nightmare.]
Day trips were tricky with schedules; daily commutes from Kanagawa weren't close.
[Unless you've got relatives nearby, not recommending it.]
No relatives in Gunma—his were all in Korea.
[Mine are in Okinawa. Can't help. Sorry.]
"No need to apologize."
[If you really wanna come, finals day.]
Tae-il checked the schedule in his left hand. Finals exactly three days out.
He smirked at her confident assumption of reaching finals.
"Yuuma's secret weapon, brimming with confidence."
[Ahaha. Our girls' volleyball is national top-tier?]
Girls' volleyball.
Sakuya's Interhigh debut event.
[Win this, it's three-peat. Gotta for the third-years.]
Her declaration was utterly calm.
Less "we'll do it" and more "it's ours by right."
Tae-il thought if this weren't a pretty girl band zoo but a sports manga world, Sakuya'd be the final boss.
"Fine, volleyball aside—what about the rest? Schedules vary."
[Oh, right. I'm here all month...]
Tae-il mentally tallied her events.
Non-overlapping: volleyball, tennis, table tennis, swimming—four total.
Most wrapped in four days; tennis and table tennis dragged longer.
A grueling month-long Interhigh with just three rest days.
Conditioning seemed impossible.
"Schedule okay?"
[What? Taichi worrying?]
"Can't I? You'll handle it, but..."
Sakuya could do anything.
Tae-il believed that utterly, his voice brimming with trust.
'Doesn't mean I'm not worried...'
Even in the original, Sakuya got injured multiple times.
Sports gonna sports.
Contact ones especially riskier than music by far.
'Volleyball alone—team collisions, finger injuries.'
To Tae-il, Sakuya's true treasure wasn't talent or looks, but her hands.
Forget music—healthy hands to grip pencil and draw.
Recalling her dream, Tae-il sighed softly.
"Even if winning's a given, don't overdo it and get hurt. I'll be at finals."
[Ahaha. Thanks. You aren't overdoing it?]
"Got my reasons. Don't worry."
[That makes it scarier...]
Tae-il didn't hide his agenda with her.
She might've guessed from the bass session already.
Sakuya was sharp.
"Anyway, get hurt and you're done for. Be ready."
[Ahaha. Gotta be careful just 'cause Taichi nags scary?]
Tae-il listened to her sly laugh in silence, then tilted his head.
Something off in the convo all along.
Finally hit him.
"Right, Sakuya."
[Yeah? Forgot something?]
"When you gonna call me Tae-il again?"
[Ah! Practice time. See you finals day! Yeah, coming now!]
"Hey? Sakuya, wait—!"
Click click.
"..."
Call ended.
Tae-il pondered redialing for five seconds.
If practice started, it'd be rude—so text instead.
His initial tease to mess with her.
Followed by pure cheers as requested.
Probably send more tomorrow.
"Good enough."
He pocketed his phone, left his room, and headed downstairs to the living room.
Yu Hana sprawled on the sofa like she was claiming it till vacation's end, munching snacks.
Her eyes glued to the drama hot off the original manga.
BARD did the OST—not just any group—so Tae-il knew it too.
"Mom, you'll gain weight."
"Mind your own."
Classic mother-son banter as he passed through to the kitchen.
Breakfast waited for the late riser.
He reheated the cold soup, scooped fresh rice, sat, and clasped hands.
"Thanks for the food."
As he started eating, Yu Hana muttered like it just hit her.
"Oh right. Ayane's coming over later."
"Ayane?"
"Said you two had plans?"
"Ah..."
Memory flooded back: train home yesterday, asking her to hang this weekend.
"Mom gonna step out...?"
"No need."
"No need to be shy, son? I'll pop next door for chit-chat."
"We're not there yet."
Tae-il shot her a pitiful look, then resumed eating.
"Hmm. 'Yet'..."
Yu Hana muttered softly out of earshot, refocusing on the drama.
She'd once dismissed Japanese dramas as childish; lately, surprisingly fun.
'Am I getting old...?'
She thought, eyes never leaving the screen.
Bouncy, cute music played.
OST cue—always a killer scene.
Yu Hana stared intently.
"W-Wait! We're not dating yet!"
"So you hate it?"
"You're gonna date me anyway."
The usually icy heroine, drunk, gazed soulfully at the hero.
Her flushed lips moved more vividly than her cheeks.
Bold declaration—she yanked his tie, forcing a kiss.
Hero's eyes widened in shock, but no resistance.
Maybe he wanted it too—sly vixen indeed.
"Passive guys trending now...?"
Even young coworkers buzzed "herbivore men"; now dramas too.
"Eh, actor's hot, so forgiven."
Yu Hana crunched snacks, muttering.
* * *
Ayane arrived at Tae-il's, bass on back, heart pounding.
Like a second home, but tense today.
Ding dong.
She rang; instant "Coming!" and door opened.
Lights on late last night—yup.
'Shin-jjang overslept again.'
Dark circles back under his eyes, barely fading from good habits.
Swallowing a sigh—take care of yourself—she beamed and approached.
"Shin-jjang! Good morning!"
"Morning. Almost noon."
Loose smile, but nitpicking as always—Aya puffed her lips.
"Shin-jjang, know what?"
"No."
"Ayane read a column this morning. Women love guys who don't nitpick little things!"
"Really? Curious what that columnist looks like."
Tae-il ground his teeth, recalling his past girlfriend who'd sulk all day over ignored details.
As he clenched, Yu Hana appeared in casual outing clothes.
Spotting Ayane, she greeted warmly.
"Oh, Ayane? Good morning."
"Yes! Good morning, ma'am!"
Tae-il went silent.
Ayane shot him a smug look.
See? Good morning! her face said.
"Fine, you're great. Happy?"
"Hehe."
Tae-il conceded; Ayane grinned triumphantly.
Yu Hana watched fondly.
"Mom heading out suddenly? You were glued to the drama."
"Next door for a bit. Back in two hours. Got it?"
"..."
Yu Hana brazenly smiled past him, patting Ayane's shoulder.
"Hehe, have fun, Ayane. Auntie'll be next door."
"Yes! Take care!"
"Next door's your house—no 'take care' needed."
"See ya later! Son... you know?"
Door nearly shut—she snapped her tongue with a wink.
Tae-il got the gist, forehead in hand, shaking his head.
"Can't rein her in..."
"Ahaha. Shin-jjang's mom is the best. Right?"
"She is, but..."
Age bringing out the dramatics was the flaw.
Lately nagging Dad Shin Young-hoon to exercise 'cause celeb butts were hot.
Tae-il shook his head.
"That's all your prep?"
"Yup!"
"I'll be quick. Wait in the living room."
He seated her on the sofa, headed upstairs.
No worries from Yu Hana today.
Planned lyrics practice plus bass at the rehearsal room.
Rummaging his closet, Tae-il paused.
"Clothes..."
All day in rehearsal—comfy it was.
Ayane was casual oversized today, not dolled up like yesterday.
"Sun's harsh though..."
Grabbed Yahiro's gifted fedora.
Added vest—blues or jazz vibe now.
Bass, tablet, wallet in tow, down the stairs.
'Feels weird.'
Used to lug amp, laptop—hell every practice/live.
Pedalboard too—heavy bag minimum two, suitcase essential for guitar sessions.
Bass lighter.
Ayane waiting, watching daily horoscope on sofa.
"Today's lucky item is earrings..."
"Ayane. Let's go."
"Huh? Oh!"
She shut off the TV, dashed over at his call.
Her faintly flushed face—like caught in something—made Tae-il smirk.
"Whatcha watching?"
"J-Just the daily horoscope a bit..."
Ayane twirled her hair shyly.
Teen checking horoscope? School or love.
Exams over, vacation—meaningless. So... love.
Knowing, Tae-il grinned slyly anyway.
"What'd it say?"
"S-School! Report cards soon! Last test was tough..."
He recalled Iris texting yesterday: easy test, school lacks standards—but zipped for Ayane's honor.
"N-Now to rehearsal?"
"Yeah. Gonna be intense—brace yourself."
"Ehehe..."
"No mercy even if you laugh."
"Strict Shin-jjang to Ayane... first time?"
Ayane crescent-eyed smile.
Stern tone laced with worry, but her excitement shone through.
* * *
Ding-a-ling.
"Welcome... oh, you."
"Tone sours the second you see me?"
"Why welcome a guy warmly?"
"Fair."
Tae-il admitted readily.
Young guys shun shops that overdo familiarity.
Japanese service or not—burden, no return. Same for him.
Unless price matched quality.
"Oho. New gear at last?"
Manager eyed the guitar case on his back happily.
"That thrilled?"
"Why not?"
"Thought you'd miss steady rental income."
"Pfft. How much could a snot-nosed kid like you save?"
Manager snorted, then spotted Ayane peeking—smile brightened.
"Whoa! The girl from last time with the kid. Starting a band?"
"Y-Yes..."
Ayane bowed; pink case bobbed too.
"Grrreat. Finally some bloom in our rehearsal rooms."
"Cut the sap, gimme the key."
"Tch, kids hate elders' affection. Here."
Manager handed key, checked bookings.
"Four hours?"
"Yes."
Grumbling about length, he leaned to whisper to Tae-il.
"Uh, y'know."
"What now."
Manager glanced at Ayane.
"Couple last time... stuff happened."
"..."
"Told 'em never come back. B-But y'know...? I trust you to handle."
Clean up or not, smells linger—please no indoor fun, he pleaded.
Tae-il flushed beet red, head down.
Whispered,
"We're not like that..."
"R-Really? Ahahaha! Sorry! Can't trust kids these days. Kahahaha!"
Manager laughed forcedly, slapping Tae-il's shoulders to defuse.
"...?"
Ayane alone tilted head in confusion.
"S-Sorry. Free drinks?"
"No."
Tae-il snatched key snippily.
"C'mon, Ayane."
"Ah, yes. Excuse us..."
Grabbed her hand, stomped openly mad to the room.
"Sigh. Totally that vibe."
Arms crossed, manager eyed his pinky.
But Tae-il was trustworthy enough.
Doubting too much—unadult.
"Tch. I've lost faith lately."
Manager inwardly apologized.
At least discount heavy today, he murmured. Not forgetting.