Romantic Relations (3)
Tae-il endured Rena's teasing and steadily climbed the stairs.
Thanks to that, they quickly entered the main sports facility building.
"It's pretty crowded, huh?"
"They're all just our schoolmates, though."
Black uniforms swarmed like ants over the blue seats.
"Since we're here to cheer for once, should we sit closer to where the kids are?"
"I'm against it."
Rena grabbed Tae-il's collar before his body could outpace his words.
"Just so you know. I'm sitting in the back, no exceptions."
Even though there were plenty of open seats, Rena stubbornly insisted on the rear.
The reason was simple enough.
It was a deeply personal one: she didn't want anyone seeing the work she was drawing.
She could just not draw here at all, but knowing Rena's stubbornness, Tae-il prodded her in a different way.
"Even if you sit in the back, you'd still stand out a ton, Honjo. And look at these people."
Tae-il spread his arms wide, gesturing to both sides.
Everywhere he looked—left, right—it was all volleyball fans.
"Wouldn't drawing here come off as kinda weird?"
With her already eye-catching looks, if Rena started sketching alone in the stands, she'd draw attention whether she wanted it or not.
"People might figure out you're here."
Rena wanted to keep her outing under wraps as much as possible. Getting tangled up with folks outside school was just a hassle.
If word got out that she—a celebrity-level popular girl—was here, it'd be a mess to clean up.
It wasn't overthinking; Rena had the kind of notoriety that made it plausible.
But despite Tae-il's concerns, Rena just snorted.
"Worrying's a full-time job for you. I'll wear sunglasses."
Rena tapped the expensive shades hooked on her collar.
They covered more than half her small face in an instant. Better than a mask, even.
"See? No one could pick me out from the outside."
"Sure, no one would peg you as Honjo, but you'd still stick out like a sore thumb."
Tae-il's gaze quickly scanned Rena's outfit, minus the straw hat.
Every piece screamed luxury brands.
Especially those sunglasses—they looked pricier than both his parents' salaries combined. A young girl decked head-to-toe in designer gear, sketching in the stands.
"If anything, it'd make you more noticeable…."
"So, you think anyone's got the guts to come up and ask who I am?"
"Hmm…."
Tae-il let out a low hum.
"Yeah, talking to you does feel kinda intimidating."
"Right?"
Rena was petite enough to seem approachable, but she had distinctly Western features.
In Asia, people everywhere hesitated to tangle with foreigners.
"Borrowing Iris's words, standing out's inevitable. But as long as my face stays unknown, it's fine."
That was why she insisted on the straw hat, too.
"If you're that set on it, Honjo…."
Tae-il nodded, figuring she had her reasons.
He got where she was coming from, anyway.
In a way, they were alike.
Wasn't showing unfinished songs to her of all people—Iris—mortifying enough?
Tae-il had to muster serious courage just to share tracks that might never make it to an album.
"Not even the middle seats?"
Still, he asked one last time, a bit wistful.
"The hat blocks the view from behind anyway. I could cover one side, and if we leave the other open…."
"I said no. If you wanna watch the sporty girl up close that bad, sit by yourself."
"Ugh…."
Tae-il made a troubled face.
If Rena were a guy friend, he'd have coolly agreed to split up….
But leaving Honjo alone feels risky….
Her looks, her personality—she was prime trouble material.
In the original story, she was usually the one picking fights.
Like a timed bomb that could go off anywhere if left unchecked.
Better to keep her close for peace of mind.
"Fine. Back row it is. Can't be helped. Watch your step on the stairs—no tripping."
"That pisses me off in a weird way…."
Even after getting his agreement, Rena scowled at the babying tone.
The two headed to the least crowded spot in the gym.
Midway between the rival school's cheering section and Yuuma High's.
A side view of the court.
Tae-il's eyes drifted to the unusually bustling area. Students in uniforms clutched various instruments, chattering excitedly.
All from the brass band club.
"Looks like the brass band's gearing up. Cheerleading for the boys' match, maybe?"
"Jeez, that's a ton of people. How many…?"
"Thirty-something?"
With the school sending groups, seats were packed front to back.
Mingled among the dark uniforms were casually dressed adults chatting with teachers—likely alumni.
Definitely.
A spot that'd overwhelm even a natural loner like Rena.
Still, regrets were regrets.
Settling into the deserted back row, Tae-il took in the open court and grumbled softly.
"Too faaar. Can't even make out Sakuya's face from here. Right?"
"Always such a drama queen."
Rena sat primly beside him, chuckling as she pulled a laptop and tablet from her carrier.
She glanced at Tae-il peeking over and asked.
"You think sporty girls like her are a dime a dozen?"
"Huh? Nah, no one's as standout as Sakuya…."
"Or do you seriously think you couldn't spot her even if she looked pinky-nail tiny?"
"Course not."
Anyone else, maybe—but Sakuya? No problem.
Setting aside eyesight, her unique look made her impossible to miss. That stark white ponytail towering like a beacon, swaying gently from afar.
Sakuya's overwhelming presence warped the space around her like gravity.
A star shining bright in the daytime sky.
"See? Quit whining."
Rena scolded him offhandedly, then set the laptop on her carrier and hooked up the tablet.
"Whole court's in view—better this way, honestly."
"You think…?"
Tae-il scratched his head. His live sports experience was just some childhood basketball games.
"What're you drawing, anyway, Honjo?"
"Ah…."
Rena paused mid-sketch, adjusting her pen pressure.
Her confident vibe vanished like a kid caught self-generating by Mom.
Did I ever tell him I draw doujinshi…?
Treating Tae-il too casually had made her forget.
She'd never shared that secret with him.
Her neck stiffened like a rusty machine sans oil.
Rena easily read the mild curiosity in his eyes.
"W-Well, y'see… it's a commission…."
"Drawing for pay?"
"You know it?"
"Duh. Most musicians are otaku, right? I dabble a bit…."
He wasn't hardcore, but as an industry guy, his seiyuu fandom put him in bad-apple territory.
He'd even done otagei when pushed.
Anyway, band folks were mostly otaku. They'd deny it, but undeniable truth.
Korea too, Japan even more.
"What, you watch anime and stuff?"
"As a kid? Now just skim popular ones."
"Wh-What about the naughty stuff…?"
"Huh?"
"N-Nothing! Forget it! Just forget!"
Rena shook her head furiously, face beet red. That question was dumb even on replay.
She huffed, fanning her flushed cheeks.
Tae-il pulled a fan from his bag and wafted it at her.
"Surprising, though. You take commissions too, Honjo?"
"Wh-What… yeah?"
Rena figured he was shocked a gallery-opener like her did side gigs.
Half right, half wrong.
Honjo takes commissions too, huh….
Tae-il was just impressed by this new original lore.
Rena did art stuff a lot, but specifics were rarely shown.
He'd assumed doujin-only till now.
He peered curiously at her screen—a few rough lines.
Rena hunched her neck, gently shoving his head away.
"D-Don't stare so hard… it's distracting…."
"Haha. Even you get self-conscious with an audience, Honjo?"
"Pros aren't all shameless!"
"I get it. Same here. Can't do jack with eyes on me."
Tae-il had tried composing with Ayane watching.
Obviously.
Progress stalled hard on melodies and lyrics.
Finished work embarrassed him; unfinished? Hide-in-a-hole time.
Meanwhile.
Nice cover… right?
Rena patted herself on the back—commission was a perfect excuse.
Yeah. Not drawing for my kicks.
Just client requests, tailored to their tastes.
No personal flavor whatsoever.
Logically dubious, but she'd pass her otaku art as commission work.
Goood….
Now Tae-il wouldn't side-eye her fujoshi sketches.
If he did? Blame the client.
Regaining composure with airtight logic, Rena resumed pen on tablet. With rough comps done, her strokes were fluid.
A human form quickly took shape on the white canvas.
Tae-il asked.
"Who's the client on this commission, anyway?"
"Eh, wha?"
"Gotta be someone close to commission you of all people."
"How'd you…?"
"C'mon. You don't do SNS."
Rena had no social media.
Not as famous modern artist "Honjo Rena," nor doujin author "LENA."
To commission her, you'd have to go through her dad as gatekeeper.
But even that was iffy.
Her dad's too doting to take random gigs….
Man adored his daughter. In the story, he stopped her overworking for gallery cash—wouldn't pile on commissions.
So, likely a personal request.
Or rather, Tae-il was sure.
How to dodge this…?
Rena eyed him, sweating bullets.
Not glaring, not smirking—just pure curiosity. Annoyingly genuine.
Why's that more irritating?
Cursing his sharp insight inwardly, she fabricated a client.
"I-Iris's cousin…."
Even as she said it, she self-roasted.
Honjo Rena, you idiot! Coulda made up anyone or named a random Arisugawa servant—why her cousin of all people…!
Was Iris's cousin Riya popping into her head?
Tae-il, knowing Riya was an omnivore otaku, just nodded along.
They were already tight back then, huh….
Rena fretted he'd peg Riya as otaku.
"Um…."
As she scrambled excuses, the speakers kicked off school intros.
Tae-il snapped to the court.
"Ooh. Players entering, finally?"
"Phew…."
With his focus shifted, Rena sighed in relief.
Handle it later. Talking more now just cements the wrong idea about Riya….
As Rena clammed up, girls from both schools lined up and marched onto the court.
"Whoa. All volleyball players—huge even from here."
"Yeah. Makes me wanna strap 'em to Procrustes's bed."
"Pro-what now?"
"Villain Theseus kills."
Rena glanced at the court, then back to her laptop.
Theseus.
Tae-il knew the myth-hero well.
Koreans got force-fed Greek-Roman myths young.
Like bingeing Durarara!!—gorgeous art hooking boys, then style shift traumatizing.
Scarred him as a kid.
Manga covered it: en route to Athens, Theseus slays the bed-obsessed freak.
Chops tall travelers' legs to fit, stretches short ones fatally.
"If I had an axe…."
Rena switched mid-figure to sketching an axe.
Her blue eyes gleamed murderously at their long legs.
"Ahaha, hahaha…."
Filtered through art vs. real life? Worlds apart.
Tae-il vowed never to mention height around Rena again.
As she vented via doodles, intros wrapped. Players did handshakes, crowd waves—tedious rituals—then warmed up proper.
Sakuya included.
Stretching her long legs, she spotted Tae-il, waved big.
"Sakuya found us. Think she just locked eyes with me."
"Yeah?"
Rena looked up curiously.
Tae-il started raising his arm cheerfully overhead.
"Kyaa! Sakuya-nee looked my way!"
"It was me, not you! Kyaa, nee-san, pick me!"
"…."
His arm froze awkwardly, then curved sheepishly behind his head.
Tae-il scratched his nape.
Rena clamped her mouth mid-sketch.
"Pfft."
"Hey, Honjo. That funny…?"
"Kkh!"
Rena nodded vigorously.
Tae-il glared betrayed at his hand.
"No one else saw, right?"
"Dunno? Sporty girl and I did, at least."
Sure enough.
Sakuya, stretching on court, covered her mouth with a fist, shoulders shaking like Rena's.
Tae-il's slumped.
"Fine. Long as it's just you two…."
"Stop… kh! It's… pfht! …hilarious!"
Her restraint futile, Tae-il's instant mope killed any non-laugh intent.
"Laugh it up already, Honjo. Gonna choke."
"Hahk."
Tae-il patted her back as the whistle blew.
Finally.
Warm-ups done, the awaited finals began.
Tae-il eyed an unnamed senior's serve routine.
"You know volleyball rules, Honjo?"
"Nope."
Unless she dug sports manga like Sakuya, zero interest ever.
Not 'cause of height.
Probably.
"You study up?"
"Just PE basics. No deep knowledge. Commentary's out."
"No worries. Wasn't expecting any."
"Haha…."
Tae-il nodded, relieved.
Moments later.
The ref's whistle echoed through the gym, and Yuuma High's serve kicked off.