Finding the Last Piece (6)
Yuuma was a powerhouse.
Even though they'd locked in their spot in the finals and could celebrate, no one was letting their guard down.
Maintain peak condition right up to the very end.
Following the coach's orders, all the players had returned to the dorms, but they kept practicing in their own ways to stay loose and warmed up.
Sakuraba Sakuya was one of those players.
She jumped toward the ball her senpai tossed, and it fit perfectly into her hand like magic.
Sakuya smashed it with a spike.
Paang!
The clean strike echoed as the ball traced a perfect arc, slyly grazing the line drawn on the court before bouncing away.
"Nice shot."
"Nice toss, senpai."
They exchanged a quick high-five, and Sakuya flexed her spiking right hand, clenching and unclenching it.
The setter senpai grinned ear to ear, showering Sakuya with praise.
"You're in killer form lately, huh? You were on fire in today's match too."
"Yeah, it's weird."
"Come on. If the near-lock for tournament MVP says that, what are the rest of us supposed to do?"
"Ahaha."
No matter how much you want to stay in top shape forever, everyone's condition wavers eventually.
It could be a mental block or a biorhythm issue.
Even monkeys slip from trees sometimes.
Sakuya was human too, so she'd had her off days she couldn't avoid.
But like a jinx, the condition woes that plagued her hadn't reared their head once during this Interhigh.
Thanks to that, MVP seemed like a done deal, as her senpai said—but Sakuya felt uneasy.
'Please don't hit during the finals...'
A brief humiliation or mistake could be covered up easily enough.
No matter what people said—calling her washed up—Sakuya knew she wouldn't waver.
It was just her usual jinx, after all.
She had the confidence that if she toughed it out just this once, she'd bounce back to her normal self.
'But...'
Messing up in front of Shin Tae-il would be etched into her brain forever.
'He said he'd come cheer for once.'
She'd boasted about aiming for the championship, so she couldn't show him anything less than her best.
Sakuraba Sakuya had to shine, no matter who was watching—man or woman.
"Will number four really come...?"
"Huh? What?"
"Nothing. Let's keep practicing."
Sakuya picked up the volleyball she'd sent flying and dribbled it slowly on the ground.
Her senpai gave a wry smile and shrugged.
"Okay. But after dinner, you have to rest up properly, got it?"
"When have I ever not rested?"
"Finals are tomorrow, so extra caution."
This finals match carried extra weight.
The girls' volleyball team's Interhigh three-peat was on the line.
They underperformed weirdly in other tournaments like Spring High, but Interhigh was their territory.
Her senpai gripped the ball tightly, like a vow.
"We're winning this for sure."
"Obviously."
"So manage that condition, ace."
Her senpai groaned that if she tanked Sakuya's form, the coach would have her head.
"Ahaha."
Her senpai got back into position to toss, and Sakuya eyed the imaginary net in the air.
The lines weaving like a net in midair soon morphed into guitar strings.
The bass guitar Tae-il had been playing.
'Music, huh...'
The yellow volleyball entered her vision, and Sakuya jumped straight up.
True to her third-year setter status, the toss was spot-on.
So precise she could hit it with her eyes closed—Sakuya naturally extended her right arm.
Paang!
The ball slammed perpendicular into the ground, bouncing high like a basketball before rolling across the court.
"Nice shot!"
"Nice toss!"
Sakuya clenched her fist triumphantly.
'Band stories aren't half bad...!'
The rumors about Shin Tae-il, his behavior—it was all starting to make sense to Sakuya now.
'The protagonist type that shows up all the time in band stories!'
No matter the opponent, she wouldn't resist that instinctive pull.
Being with him would surely bring endless fun and excitement.
Just thinking of him now had her heart pounding like Pavlov's dog.
Sakuya chuckled to herself, and her senpai—having snuck up—slapped her lower back with an open palm.
"Kyaa!"
"What? You can scream all cute like that too, Sakuya?"
Her senpai leered mischievously.
Sakuya rubbed her stinging back, flustered into an awkward stance.
"W-what was that, senpai!?"
"Oh, nothing. Your smile just now reminded me of that annoying friend of mine who's always daydreaming about her boyfriend, so I reacted without thinking."
"B-boyfriend?"
Sakuya's face flushed beet red.
The lewd glint in her senpai's eyes shifted to surprise.
"Wait, you actually have a boyfriend?"
"N-not a boyfriend, but..."
"Future boyfriend or something? Good for you."
"Is it...?"
"This underclassman I know's been bugging me nonstop to introduce you."
Now she had an excuse to turn her down—her senpai laughed, hand on her hip.
'Huh, does senpai...?'
Sakuya got a vague sense of her senpai's feelings for that underclassman.
Noticing, her senpai glanced around and pressed a finger to her lips, signaling silence.
"Our little secret, okay?"
"Why keep it secret?"
"I'm embarrassed, and honestly, you think my girls would let it slide if they knew who I like?"
"Ahh..."
Her senpai fiddled awkwardly with her short bob, cheeks pink.
A secret she had to hide even for her captain's charisma.
Sakuya nodded with a giggle.
"Got it. But it's a secret for you too, senpai?"
"Deal. Transaction complete."
Their fists bumped lightly, sealing vow and promise.
Two girls marking a page of their youth.
'What’s Tae-il up to right now, I wonder.'
Sakuya looked up at the clear blue sky.
Maybe Tae-il was gazing at the same sky right now—lost in such romantic thoughts.
Contrary to Sakuya's hopes.
'This is dizzying.'
Tae-il wasn't even glancing at the sky. He was too busy counting the fuzz on the soft carpet floor.
Lifting his head felt impossible.
Even a slight upward glance filled his eyes with forbidden fruit—the overwhelming presence of those two pairs of ruby and amber eyes staring down, plus everything else.
Stiffening his neck to look up straight meant facing those ruby and amber gazes head-on, which felt oddly burdensome.
Tae-il newly realized how tough it was to face pretty people directly.
'How the hell have I been hanging out with these girls this whole time?'
It was a genuine mystery.
As he'd once told Iris, Tae-il thought Ayane was idol-level pretty, no contest.
Iris was just as stunning.
They each had their unique charms, but both were top-tier beauties impossible to rank.
The problem? Those stunning girls were grilling him.
'Did I do something that wrong?'
A strange sense of déjà vu hit him.
It felt just like the day his ex-girlfriend dumped him—the glare in her eyes, the vibe.
He hadn't done anything wrong, as far as he knew. Yet his chest tightened inexplicably, like he was psychologically cornered.
Guilt born from nothing strangled his breath.
That suffocating sensation.
'Why?'
Intellectually, he liked them both, sure—but that didn't make them lovers.
No reason for this pressure from them.
'But...'
Tae-il cautiously lifted his head just enough to meet Ayane's eyes, not Iris's.
"Muuu."
Tae-il squeezed his eyes shut.
Staring into those teary amber eyes left him thinking only that he'd messed up.
Tae-il gave in.
'Fine. I'm the bad guy, whatever.'
He mentally scrawled in big red letters at the end of his common-sense dictionary:
'Skipping practice to meet Sakuya is extremely wrong.'
He underlined it repeatedly, added asterisks for emphasis.
With his mental sorting done, Tae-il stiffly raised his head. Ayane pleaded anxiously.
"Sakuraba does finals all the time anyway. Can't you just skip tomorrow, Shin-zzang?"
"Sorry."
"Wuu. Shin-zzang's being super mean!"
Ayane pressed her thumb hard into the pressure point on Tae-il's palm.
"Ack!"
Tae-il's upper body pitched forward.
Unhealthy as he was, he was especially vulnerable to acupressure.
"D-do you hate it that much...?"
"Yeah!"
Ayane nodded vigorously, on the verge of tears.
She really hated it.
Tae-il was shocked at how intensely Ayane resented Sakuya.
'Gotta avoid mentioning Interhigh around Ayane from now on.'
As Ayane vented timidly on his hand, Iris summed up.
"So, what you're saying is: 'Sakuya's girls' volleyball team made finals, so I wanna go cheer.' That right?"
"Yeah. Spot on."
"Hng?"
Tae-il, who'd been sweating bullets moments ago, affirmed calmly now. Iris eyed him suspiciously.
At first, Iris had been mad like Ayane—but not for emotional reasons.
Tae-il had real talent.
Being able to compose meant he had an ear for music.
In this world, that meant he'd reached a certain level. His sample compositions actually sounded good too.
'At Shin Tae-il's level, 30 days is already too short—it's not even enough.'
If he were a total newbie like Ayane, fine.
But for a seasoned musician, 30 days was precious.
Hit a wall? Even investing all 30 might not break through.
For performers, playing was life itself—built slowly through experience and time.
In that endless journey, 30 days was a mere blink.
Yet musicians stacked those blinks into growth.
And here was Tae-il, willing to carve up that precious time—not just for composing, which he already lacked for, but to see a girl.
How could Iris not get mad?
But watching Ayane's timid resistance, her anger shifted to intrigue.
Sakuya.
Sakuraba Sakuya.
Probably the only first-year girl who could rival her.
'What, another girl again?'
Maybe it was her imagination, but Shin Tae-il got tangled with girls a lot.
Of course, she knew Sakuya was his friend.
Unlike their surprise study group visit last week, Sakuya had a clear prior appointment.
The issue was that appointment.
Promising to study alone on a weekend? That level of closeness seemed suspicious to Iris.
'Even with Ayane around...?'
Iris glanced at Ayane beside her, fiddling sullenly with Tae-il's fingers.
She wanted to get mad, but couldn't, so she took it out on his palm instead.
'Cute.'
Tae-il, enduring the persistent finger torture, was gasping for air.
Ayane looked up, sensing the gaze. Their eyes met, and she glared back defiantly, eyes narrowed.
Iris swallowed a laugh and turned back to Tae-il.
'Their styles are total opposites.'
Sakuya was tall and long-limbed, model-like. Her personality was worlds more outgoing than Ayane's—almost unfair to compare.
'Even so...'
She doubted Ayane, with her intense jealousy, would let Tae-il and Sakuya get close unchecked. Same class and desk-mates or not.
Yet at the study group, Sakuya and Tae-il had looked extremely close.
No skinship, but zero distance—like more than with Ayane.
'Proof Tae-il's that comfortable with Sakuya.'
And Sakuya seemed equally at ease with him.
'Otherwise...'
A girl wouldn't visit a guy's house alone.
By Iris's standards, normal girls didn't invite guys over for "studying" or visit alone either.
Exception: childhood friends like Ayane?
'Or...'
Honestly.
Iris couldn't think of anything but those two words: 'lovers'.
Were they really dating?
Iris watched Ayane and Tae-il with soap-opera fascination.
'What if it were me?'
She'd pick a public spot like a reading room or family restaurant, where prying eyes reached.
If she didn't want rumors, invite to her house.
Of course, with dozens of servants watching.
But Sakuya went alone to Tae-il's house. Only his mom was home, and she left soon after.
Iris saw two possibilities.
'They're that close. Or...'
They studied, then secretly got indecent.
Yin-yang union.
Her curiosity piqued by a similar scenario in Rena's doujin she'd glimpsed—her face flushed crimson instantly.
'Oh no!'
Iris hurriedly covered her face.
Her fair skin showed every blush vividly.
Tae-il blinked at Iris suddenly hiding her face.
"Arisugawa? What's wrong? You okay?"
"N-nothing!"
Iris shook her head frantically, banishing the black-and-white smut from her mind.
Rena's heroines in those thin books were all stacked like Sakuya—perfect mental image.
"Ahem. Anyway, Shin Tae-il, I get your story now."
Unable to hide the flush, she fanned herself like it was just hot.
"So, shall we call it?"
"Letting you off easy just 'cause you said sorry? No way!"
"Haa."
Tae-il sighed deeply, exhausted.
To him, their interrogation was just annoying.
But to Iris...
'If they're really like that...'
Impure heterosexual relations.
Hanging with various girls, she'd heard the rumors.
When two or more girls gathered, gossip was inevitable.
Even at Yuuma, that hadn't changed.
If anything, arts and sports kids brought juicier tales.
The spiciest? Love tangled with violence.
How a violence incident went down.
Why a thriving club suddenly shut down.
A senpai suspended for pregnancy.
Or a whole club axed for impure relations.
Among them, Iris recalled the last: a club disbanded over impure hetero relations.
Yuuma was merciless with arts/sports clubs—they had to produce results.
They cracked down hard on violations with real punishments.
If Tae-il and Sakuya were really involved, Iris—as a member—had to stop the leader's misconduct.
"Interhigh finals get streamed online and TV. Why go in person?"
"Told you. We had a promise."
Simple reason.
A promise.
And.
"Finals exams, I owe her big time."
"...Really?"
Going all the way to Gunma just for exam help?
Fine.
Maybe once.
But Sakuya was an eccentric who didn't stick to one event in Interhigh.
'Meaning he'll keep going from now on?'
Tae-il had mentioned after practice today: irregular schedule made part-time jobs tough.
Iris finally got it, forcing her protruding lip back in.
She recalled another rumor.
Athletes relieving tension before games or training by... doing that hard.
'Then I cannot let Shin Tae-il go today, no matter what.'
Light Music Club formed less than a week ago, already facing disbandment?
Over impure relations? No joke that tacky.
'Even if Japan and arts kids are more sexually open...'
She had to prevent it happening around her.
Iris feigned calm concern outwardly while nodding casually.
"Okay, I get the gist. Sakuya's finals are morning, right?"
"Yeah. Starts at 10."
Progress at last—Tae-il perked up.
How precious Sakuya was showed in his brighter eyes than when suggesting practice.
Iris found it oddly grating.
Like Ayane, dark emotions sprouted in her too.
For Ayane's sake before dreams, she couldn't tolerate a leader prioritizing sex over practice.
She'd never wished Ayane's romance well, but that's what she'd tell herself.
Otherwise, her feelings didn't make sense.
Already, Tae-il and Sakuya were fact, not suspicion, in her mind.
"So. You're going? Ditching tomorrow's practice too?"
"Tomorrow's not even set in stone."
"What? Of course it is! Right, Ayane? We agreed to meet here at 10 a.m. tomorrow?"
"Uh, y-yeah! Shin-zzang's too much! Ayane's working hard, but you're ditching alone!"
Ayane blindly backed Iris.
Tae-il looked aggrieved.
"This feels unfair..."
"If you're so wronged, you should've applied for group cheering."
Powerhouse Yuuma advanced to finals or semis in most events.
Group cheering was annual; they took advance headcounts.
Approved students rode school-chartered buses on finals day.
Brass band and cheer squads used it most.
Tae-il dropped his gaze—he hadn't applied on time, as Iris said.
"Looks like you didn't even apply properly?"
"Ah, ahaha..."
Tae-il laughed off Iris's pitying look.
The application date was graduation day—bad timing.
He hadn't known.
While skipping with Rena, it'd already closed.
"Must've been graduation day. Plenty of time too. What were you doing instead?"
"Had something going on..."
"What could be so huge you skipped applying?"
Rena, who'd been pretending to chat with Kiriko while eavesdropping, flinched hard.
"Rena?"
"N-nothing!"
Thankfully, Tae-il didn't glance suspiciously.
In this situation, it would've blown her cover with Iris.
'D-dang it. My fault again...?'
Truth was, Rena hadn't meant to hog his time that long.
He chose to grab instruments and waste it.
Still.
Guilt wrapped around her oddly.
"Seriously, Shin Tae-il. You're an idiot in the weirdest ways."
"Guilty as charged..."
Rena flinched each time Iris's voice stabbed like a dagger into Tae-il's chest.
"Bus is probably booked exact to the list. No extras—brass band's taken 'em."
The brass room next to their practice space—usually packed with instruments and chairs—was empty today. All loaded for tomorrow's bus trunk and seats.
"Plus, even first train tomorrow might cut it close to the venue."
"That's why I was thinking of heading out today."
"So devoted. Anyone'd think nothing happens after 30 days."
Tae-il turtle-shelled his neck.
Seizing the momentum, Iris drove the wedge.
"Even leaving tomorrow, you'd be late anyway. Just ask for understanding and practice with us?"
"What if I go today...?"
"Lodging? Minors without guardians—few places take you."
"I'm a foreigner, so maybe it'll work out?"
In individualistic Japan, foreigner status was usually a minus—but sometimes a plus.
Tae-il's idea was clever, risky too.
Iris got genuinely angry.
"What if cops grab you, call the school? You wanna tank the club we just made? You're Korean too."
"Ah..."
Tae-il shuddered at her raised voice.
An unforeseen snag.
Korean.
In Japan, just being Korean brought disadvantages aplenty—like with Chinese.
Less among youth, but society's陰湿陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰鬱陰