Finding the Last Piece (3)
“In just a few minutes, break time will be over.”
Iris's hollow soliloquy echoed quietly through the art room.
Ayane, who had been receiving bass lessons from Tae-il, lifted her head.
“And?”
“No, that's not how you respond!”
The tension Iris had carefully built up evaporated in an instant.
Iris grumbled to herself that Ayane still had a long way to go.
“Shin-zzang. Teach me that again.”
“Uh? Oh, sure.”
Tae-il, who had thought the two were about to fight, nodded in confusion as Ayane blatantly ignored Iris.
Complete dismissal.
Catching her off guard, Iris puffed out her cheeks like a blowfish.
“Tch. I keep telling you, Ayane has no sense. Rena-chan, wanna take her place?”
“Just let failed jokes die as failures....”
Undeterred by Rena's pointed remark, Iris tried again.
“In just a few minutes, break time will be over, Rena-chan.”
“....”
Rena shot Kiriko a look that said, what am I supposed to do about this?
Kiriko suddenly pulled out a large sketchbook from behind her and flipped it open.
-What happens when break time ends?
It was a prompt to read it verbatim.
“...What happens when break time ends?”
“You don't know?”
Iris placed her left foot on the step stool Rena used when writing on the blackboard and gazed at her with soulful eyes.
“Break time starts again.”
Silence.
Rena pressed her forehead and shook her head slowly.
“You just wanna keep playing around....”
“Kyaa! Sorry, Rena-chan! I just really wanted to say that line once!”
“What a lame bucket list.”
“But what can I do? The practice room is insanely stuffy.”
Even Iris, who loved practicing and jamming more than anyone, had no desire to return to that sauna.
Ayane and Tae-il nodded quietly in agreement.
Rena, who had no idea about the practice room's conditions, just tilted her head.
“Is it that hot?”
“Yeah. Our clothes were soaked with sweat—our underwear was practically see-through.”
Rena naturally turned and glared at Tae-il.
She wasn't the only one.
Iris, Ayane, and even Kiriko all fixed their stares on Tae-il in unison.
Tae-il, who had instantly become a superstar, panicked.
“W-what's the problem...?”
Ayane, sitting closest to Tae-il, spoke up as the representative.
“Shin-zzang?”
“W-what's wrong...?”
“Did you happen to see Iris's underwear? It's okay. Ayane won't get mad. It was an act of God, right?”
“N-no, I didn't.... I swear! I tried so hard not to look!”
Ayane beamed proudly at Tae-il's indignant cry.
“Yeah! That's my Shin-zzang! Such a gentleman! Ayane knew she could trust you!”
“Liar! Look me in the eye and say it, Ayane!”
“Ehehe.”
Ayane giggled honestly and looked away.
Tae-il fumed.
“This is so unfair! And you too, Arisugawa! At least wear something that doesn't show through!”
“Eh. Unlike Ayane, I don't really do dark colors in summer....”
“Then don't take off your outer layer! Why strip just because it's hot!”
“Who knew the practice room's AC was busted?”
“Still, you were dressed the coolest! You should've shown some restraint!”
Tae-il kept nagging Iris about her outfit like an old fogey.
She already had a voluptuous figure that screamed “sex appeal,” and when she ditched her outer layer for a navel-baring tank crop top, there was nowhere safe to look.
Iris tried shifting the blame to Ayane to dodge Tae-il's scolding.
“Ah, isn't this all Ayane's fault as the morals committee member who didn't warn us about the broken AC?”
“School facility issues are handled by the student council, not the morals committee.”
“Sorry.”
Iris apologized immediately.
Then she muttered in a disappointed tone.
“Aw. You didn't see it, huh....”
It was red.
“Pfft!”
“Shin-zzang!? This is your fault, Iris!”
“Ahahaha! Kidding. Who wears red underwear under white clothes? It shows right through.”
“Cough! Cough! Jokes like that, please... hack!”
Tae-il recalled a friend who had dreamed of becoming a drama writer, jumped into broadcasting, only to learn the terror of girl-heavy environments and switched careers.
The guy had griped about doing every menial task under a famous female writer, and Tae-il had mocked him, saying at least the writer was pretty, so it wasn't all bad.
Sorry for teasing you back then, buddy....
That had been a dick move.
* * *
After Iris took a quick flower-picking detour, everyone naturally ended up sticking around the art room.
For once, their minds were unified on the same thought.
They didn't want to leave the art room's air conditioning.
Rena said it was fine as long as they weren't too noisy and hauled an easel and large canvas to the corner.
She thought she was hiding her naughty drawings from them, but Tae-il felt guilty for chasing out the original owner.
Of course, Iris knew what Rena was drawing, and Ayane was too brazenly dismissive of her to care—they both adapted to the art room instantly.
“Shin Tae-il, you know how to use computers, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Gonna show Ayane some live stages. Bands where the bass really pops.”
“Ah, got it.”
It was only their second jam session, but Ayane was still way too stiff when playing bass.
She seemed focused just on keeping up with the chords.
Iris wanted to show her a bassist with serious stage presence.
“Western bands might be a bit intense for Ayane to reference, though.”
“I'll stick to girls' bands.”
She turned on the art room computer and searched a video site.
“I don't know girls' bands that well. Who should I look up?”
“Lily Lands—a three-piece girls' band. Fifth year, still indie. They wear all white year-round, that's their signature.”
“Oh, I know them. Saw 'em at a live house once.”
“Right?”
It was a feature so distinctive you knew who they were the moment you heard it, even if you didn't know the name or songs.
“All white year-round, huh....”
A simple yet stylish gimmick.
In this scene, you had to at least show up only in certain seasons, wear a pumpkin-head mask, or customize your mic and drumsticks like a reaper's scythe to count as unique.
Ayane gasped in admiration at the thumbnails when the search results popped up.
“Whoa, she's so pretty. Real band members?”
“Talented and visuals on point. That's our primary goal.”
“We're not a girls' band, though....”
Tae-il muttered bitterly.
“This bassist's gorgeous. She really knows how to play up her looks. Not just in MVs—lives are like this too.”
“Plays up her looks how?”
“You'll see.”
As the video played, Ayane realized her eyes were glued to the bassist.
Under bright lights, surrounded by a sea of fans, the bassist shone.
Even as the vocalist belted out lyrics while shredding guitar, and the drummer thrashed with headbanging fury, Ayane's gaze stayed locked on the bassist.
She leveraged her sharp features boldly—every note on bass brought a fresh expression.
But faces aren't the only way to convey emotion.
Dance could too.
And she did.
Provocative faces came with sexy, teasing poses; cute ones with adorable, dainty moves.
She looked so genuinely thrilled it made you wonder if she was even playing properly.
But she was.
The band's raw sound had been pleasing Tae-il's ears the whole time. And though Ayane couldn't copy the chords perfectly by ear yet, she caught familiar fingerings here and there.
It was real—unlike the exaggerated bass solos Tae-il had shown her as jokes, telling her not to learn from them.
“She's pretty....”
“Fun fact: they all have day jobs, so they don't go beyond the indie scene. Bassist's a stage actress.”
“An actress in an indie band!?”
“Music's a lifelong hobby she sticks to since childhood; acting's her dream and goal. Job? Something like that.”
“Music and acting are both performance arts. They probably complement each other more than you'd think. Stage work means musicals too, right?”
“Yeah. She sings well—not as good as our vocalist here, but they harmonize live sometimes.”
“Impressive. Must have killer stamina too.”
As Tae-il marveled, Ayane watched the bassist on screen with newfound seriousness.
Every expression feels so real. Is it really acting?
If Iris hadn't called her an actress, Ayane never would've guessed.
She looks like she's having the time of her life....
Enjoying the stage.
To Ayane, it was still so distant, so incomprehensible.
The bassist's radiance was dazzling, stirring an envy Ayane hadn't expected.
As Iris said, this was the ideal bassist by Ayane's standards.
As she focused on the video, Iris sneaked up and hugged her lightly from behind.
“Eek!”
“Whoa, super focused, huh? Ayane's got some cute hidden sides~.”
“D-don't tease!”
Ayane shook off Iris and darted behind Tae-il.
“Anyway, I think that's Ayane's ideal goal. Thoughts?”
“Not bad. But no need to copy her exactly.”
“Why not?”
Ayane silently agreed, though she didn't voice it. Why?
Tae-il smiled softly and took Ayane's hand.
“Ayane has her own charm. She doesn't need to push herself that hard to show it off.”
“Really?”
Iris didn't argue with Tae-il's vague praise.
Eh, childhood friends know best, I guess?
Iris had been thinking only of maximizing Ayane's visual appeal on stage.
Bands needed more than skill to succeed.
Like story.
When the band and its members' narratives tugged at hearts like idols, that's when fame hit.
Then looks.
Honestly, Tae-il overhyped Ayane sometimes, but her beauty was legit top-tier.
Not quite on my level, but still.
That was why first-years were buzzing about her as one of the “Goddess Four Heavenly Kings,” with fan club vibes emerging.
Iris wanted to capitalize on that beauty.
Unlike Tae-il, she didn't expect much skill from Ayane beyond average, so visuals it was.
And Ayane seemed intrigued too.
If Tae-il had just gushed about the bassist, Ayane would've chased that style hard.
Iris prodded Tae-il slyly.
“Got some special vision for Ayane or something?”
“Not really.”
Tae-il had accepted that everything had diverged from the original work.
The original Ayane was nothing like the one before him.
So he had hopes, but not for her to pour every emotion into virtuoso playing like in the story.
Just new possibilities.
“Limiting someone's potential to one trait isn't ideal. Just 'cause she's pretty doesn't mean she has to go full visual performance.”
“Shin-zzang....”
“Ayane's already half-starting bass because of me. I don't wanna force her expression style too.”
“Yeah, yeah. Such touching love.”
Even as Iris snarked, Tae-il didn't budge.
He believed in Ayane's musical talent and potential.
“More on you, Arisugawa.”
“Me?”
Tae-il had words for Iris about her stage concept too.
He'd put it off, but that wasn't working out.
Maybe now, before the band's concept solidified, was his only shot to convince her.
It might bruise her pride, so he broached it carefully.
“Ever thought about focusing just on vocals, no guitar?”
Tae-il swallowed hard and met Iris's eyes.