Determination (4)
Tae-il wrung every last drop from his memories and experience to somehow resurrect the opening theme of The Bancho Ban.
Fan passion was truly something else.
His practice from his past life, when he'd covered songs to upload online, had come in handy.
There were still tons of rough edges and fixes needed, but at least it had taken on the shape of a song. That was something, right?
Tae-il played back his restored version of BURNING!, the The Bancho Ban opening.
It's different.
It fell far short of the original.
Of course it did.
BURNING was a track born from collaboration between top-class composers and producers, even in Japan.
An amateur like him was bound to hit a wall trying to recreate it.
The time he'd banked from possession was useless this time too. No matter how much you practiced, creation didn't automatically improve just because you poured hours into it.
Plus, he couldn't even sample the original here, so he had no choice but to rely on his shaky memories of arrangements.
The result?
"This is just my clunky arrangement of BURNING..."
He'd captured the original's vibe, but anyone listening would know Tae-il had arranged this version.
The chorus was iconic enough that he'd replicated it almost perfectly, but the verses and bridge were reborn entirely to his taste.
Since it was a band song, as long as the vocals nailed the highlights, the differences might not stand out much.
No, this was still straight-up blasphemy he couldn't forgive.
"Ugh..."
The guilt of ruining a masterpiece squeezed his chest.
But tweaks would have to wait until he'd listened more.
Tae-il closed his eyes and let his arrangement of BURNING play. In his mind's eye, a stage materialized with four girls on it.
Drums: Rena.
Lead guitar: Sakuya.
Bass: Ayane.
Rhythm guitar and vocals: Iris.
Intro.
It kicked off with a J-rock piano melody flowing out.
Iris followed, dropping her voice low into an androgynous tone to start singing.
Rena stomped the kick drum, locking in the beat with the hi-hat, as Ayane's bass climbed aboard the rhythm proper.
As Iris's monologue wrapped, the piano shifted to synth's signature electronic whine, and Iris strummed her guitar to carry the groove smoothly.
Verse.
Tempo held steady, but the rhythm shifted.
In the background, like announcing her arrival, Sakuya started really picking at her strings.
Iris and Ayane traded lines like a conversation, pushing their resolve forward.
Chorus.
Sakuya's guitar work and Rena's flashy drums erupted in a flash, unleashing Iris's ultimate weapon: an androgynous timbre that never fumbled the highs.
Ayane's bass was subtle if you focused, but to Tae-il, it rang crystal clear what she craved.
From Iris belting it out, and from every girl wielding her instrument, came choking passion, fighting spirit, blazing fervor—and rock-solid will charging toward their goal!
Verse again.
Same pattern as before, but lyrics tweaked.
If verse one sang of Iris and Ayane's meeting, verse two was Rena and Sakuya's. And as their true feelings started peeking through...
Short chorus hook.
Iris leaped forward once more, flaunting her tone.
Bridge.
After the brief chorus, Iris calmly described the rough road ahead.
Naturally, she wasn't the type to run from hardship.
Final highlight: Iris boldly declared to the world they'd seize their dreams. Here, she pushed her vocal limits.
Her chest voice climbed to a third-octave La, holding for a full ten seconds.
A feat only possible from a seiyuu with fifteen years singing and acting in the industry.
The high note faded.
Backing track quieted.
Outro.
A brief monologue under five seconds, and the song ended.
"Heh..."
A laugh slipped out.
Tears broke through his clenched eyelids, trailing down his cheeks.
Human memory was imperfect; hazy pasts got romanticized, especially in emotional realms like music.
Tae-il knew that, yet linking his sparse past-life threads to this life swelled his chest anyway.
He'd done it!
Pro standards might call the polish lacking, but with vocals carrying it, his BURNING boasted near-original quality.
Linking his past and present lives: his remembered originals, and that busted bass still enshrined in his room.
Now, one more link was born.
"Ah, why am I tearing up like this?"
Tae-il felt his emotions turning sentimental.
Blame the dawn, he told himself.
"Wait. Not the time."
He hastily wiped his eyes and fiddled with the composition app again. Piles of parts needed fixing, and working on a phone instead of a computer was hell.
Boot the PC now? Nah, it'd kill my flow.
Focus was key. Tae-il sweated bullets but poured every ounce into that palm-sized screen.
The song wasn't done yet. It lacked the song, not just vocals.
"Plenty of time left..."
Time didn't solve creation, but it sure helped.
Tae-il decided to become Bill Gates with time.
Couldn't leap ahead, but he'd stand shoulder-to-shoulder.
His final stubborn holdout.
* * *
"Yaaawn."
"Shin-kun, overslept again?"
"Nah."
"Slept too much then?"
"Nah."
"Eh?"
Then what?
Ayane tilted her head.
"Didn't sleep."
"Pulled an all-nighter again!"
She jumped at his bold admission.
Up close, his dark circles were even deeper than yesterday.
"Skipping class on the rooftop again, huh!"
"Wanna?"
"What's with 'wanna'? Forgot Ayane's on the morals committee?"
She brandished her armband like some academy city teleporter invoking discipline.
"As a morals committee member, I won't allow Shin-kun's truancy!"
"Oh? Then fake sick, hit the nurse's office. Easy."
"Ditching class that bad? Too much!"
Tae-il chuckled at her stunned face.
"Aaaah! Teasing Ayane again? Right, Shin-kun!"
"Puhahaha!"
"Shin-kun's too mean!"
He halted mid-laugh.
Ayane stopped too, duckling-trailing her master.
"Hey."
A gaze like always, yet off—Ayane sensed something definite there, warm and tender.
Yesterday it was suspicion; today, certainty.
"W-What? Staring all soulful won't get you truancy passes."
"Ayane."
Dead serious tone.
Low, velvety voice caressing her name.
Sensing something big, Ayane stiffened, back ramrod straight.
"W-What?"
She swept hair back, ears open wide.
Ready for anything.
Even if it was—
"Hey..."
A confession!
"You like BARD by any chance?"
Yeah, she... wait.
"Huh?"
Not a confession?
"What, you don't know BARD?"
His somehow disappointed voice made Ayane shake her head frantically.
"A-Ayane knows singers that famous too!"
Offended at being underestimated, she bristled.
Even if celebs weren't her thing, mega-stars were common knowledge. BARD hit Kohaku Uta Gassen; family TV nights at year-end meant she knew them.
But Tae-il wasn't convinced.
"Not faking it, right?"
"Ayane knows! Promise! Japan's top all-girl vocal band!"
Only then did he apologize, seeing her near tears.
Am I that dumb?
Ayane wanted to cry.
But her ordeal wasn't over.
"Know their songs too?"
"S-Songs?"
"Nope?"
Pity colored his voice.
Mistaking it for disappointment, Ayane panicked.
Why? Why so let down?
Was Tae-il a diehard BARD fan?
If so, she'd study up in a heartbeat.
"D-Don't know titles!"
Chest out, she declared boldly.
End here, and he'd be bummed. So she bluffed: 20% truth, 80% hot air.
"But I can hum the hits. Classmate blasts BARD at lunch, always proselytizing."
If he said "hum it," she was toast.
Please please please no!
She gulped dryly.
"Oh? Gotcha..."
He nodded gravely, resuming his stride.
Huh?
That it?
Relieved yet oddly miffed, Ayane matched his pace, bewildered.
Suddenly, yesterday's kicks to his shin and nitpicking flashed back.
Was I too bitchy yesterday?
Tae-il might be fed up with her bullying. Tense, she panicked.
Idiot! Yesterday's Ayane was a total idiot!
She cursed her past self.
Meanwhile, amid piling misunderstandings, Tae-il calmly accepted reality.
Sad, but as expected.
Figures.
She'd hidden it well enough, but Katsuragi Ayane had zero interest in BARD.
Not even a casual Izumi fan.
Original plot recreation: basically impossible now.
One nagging question remained, though.
Ferrero Rocher chocolate.
Did it just suit her tastes from the start?
Anyway, key point: one piece of her identity was gone.
What now?
His thoughts tangled.
Truth be told, maybe last night's work influenced him, but deep down, he wished she'd care about bands.
He'd first imagined Burning Blaze without Ayane.
Him filling her spot.
Ditched that idea in five seconds flat.
No Ayane, no Burning Blaze. It needed the original four leads, period.
But pitch band suddenly? She'd refuse. How to...
Tae-il had never pushed his tastes on her, let alone suggested something fitting.
Weekdays aside, syncing weekend schedules was a nightmare.
Ayane was busy being popular; he was off scouting live houses and busking spots.
She knew he loved music, but they'd never dived deep. He'd subconsciously dodged those topics.
A snowball of his own lazy habits and fears.
Unaware, he wanted to spark her interest in the scene, even if off original timing.
Get her hooked, and music chats with me skyrocket naturally.
Then steer her toward composing.
Canon Ayane had genius composing talent.
Just give the spark—no forced praise—and great songs would flow.
Even if she didn't bloom like canon, fine by him.
He'd back her fully.
Whatever, his plan needed her music interest first. Bonus if aimed at BARD's Izumi.
Just say "Ayane, wanna band with me?" and boom, solved. Sadly, this dummy hadn't clocked it.
Ayane's different from me. Once ignited, she'll bloom faster than anyone.
He'd agonized all sleepless night.
Conclusion: If her lack of music talent might make her unhappy, start now.
With canon-recognized genius, if truly gifted, she'd craft hits sans pity arcs.
Tae-il knew talent's industry power better than most.
He'd challenged it, crashed hard into limits. He prided himself on objective self-view.
Decent, but no standout.
He'd escaped into manga/anime after feeling those walls—a thorny path to ruin.
Korea's weak, discriminatory band scene? No comfort.
Plenty of shots at redemption; he'd whiffed spectacularly.
No—underqualified.
Dunning-Kruger effect: incompetents overestimate, experts underestimate.
Frog in a well.
Fit him perfect.
Still...
Bloodshot eyes from his past haunted him like ghosts.
He shook his head, clearing cobwebs, and looked at Ayane.
Innocent eyes knowing nothing, beaming joy just from eye contact.
"Hey. Ayane."
He started, then hesitated; she prodded.
"Yeah yeah. Ayane's listening super hard right now."
"Fuu."
Deep breath, steeling resolve again.
"Ayane, ever interested in band shows?"
"Band? Sudden?"
"Friend bailed, handed me two tickets."
"Really!?"
Ayane lit up.
Anyone could see: date invite.