Wind and Moon Relations (4)
As the Interhigh women's volleyball finals were getting underway.
In Art Room A, which had essentially transformed from Rena's studio into the band's practice space, Iris rested her chin on her hand, gazing down at Ayane huddled on the floor with a sigh-tinged look.
Ayane kept her eyes lowered, glancing nervously at Iris like a criminal on trial.
"…."
"…."
Whirr.
A heavy, uncomfortable silence, broken only by the dry hum of the air conditioner.
Kiriko swallowed hard and tugged at her loosened necktie.
Cold.
The chill prickled her skin, making it crawl.
The bone-chilling cold sweeping through the midsummer room wasn't from the AC.
"Hoo."
It took a long while before Iris's tightly pressed lips finally parted.
"Progress is really not happening today, huh?"
"Mmph…."
Ayane flinched at Iris's remark, hunching over further and clutching her bass guitar without a word.
Iris's gaze softened with pity.
It was a stark contrast to how she always stuck close and shot wary glares whenever Iris approached Tae-il.
Ayane was utterly dejected.
Iris was right.
No.
Her situation was even worse than Iris had pointed out.
Not only no progress—I'm worse off than yesterday….
Even she found it ridiculous.
In their light practice session with Iris, Ayane had blundered so repeatedly it almost seemed deliberate.
"Hoo. This is kinda pissing me off, honestly."
"Sorry."
Iris felt ignored, and it irked her.
She almost wished it had been on purpose.
Iris felt that way.
And so did Ayane.
Since it was genuinely unintentional, Ayane was too embarrassed to even lift her face.
She couldn't keep time even with a metronome, and she couldn't even form proper chords.
Her mind felt bleached white.
Her sea of thoughts was filled only with white foam, devoid of any spark of life.
With her brain stalled, her fingers wouldn't budge, making it impossible to rely on muscle memory.
"Anyone could see that wasn't playing, right?"
Ayane shrank back and nodded.
It was phrased gently, but the undertone was close to reproach.
That meant Iris was seriously pissed.
What Ayane did wasn't playing….
Noise.
Ayane squeezed her eyes shut.
It wasn't really a question seeking her opinion in the first place.
It was more like, You know it's true, so just admit it already—a prod to hurry up.
Iris twirled a strand of her hair and asked,
"Don't tell me it's because Shin Tae-il isn't here?"
Ayane jolted.
Iris's eyes lowered, any faint hope dashed by the unsurprising answer. Her long lashes trembled in her stead, conveying her anger.
The only difference between yesterday and today was one thing.
Shin Tae-il was absent.
Just one person missing had drastically shifted the atmosphere, reminding her of yesterday when Tae-il had briefly stepped out for drinks.
"Really. What am I supposed to do with you…."
She held back from outright yelling out of consideration for Tae-il's sake, but Iris was starting to seriously worry if this band was really okay as is.
Was it right to entrust her future here, banking solely on Shin Tae-il?
Her wrist ached.
Iris gently set her chin-resting hand on the table, tapping her index and middle fingers.
Tap.
The taps grew stronger and faster, then slowed and weakened, repeating the cycle.
Tap.
Her middle and index fingers struck the table hard, and Iris opened her eyes.
"Kiriko."
"Yes."
"Can you step out of Art Room A for a bit? I need some one-on-one time with Ayane."
"…Don't go too hard on her, okay?"
"I won't!"
"Really…?"
"I said I won't! What do you even think I am…!"
Iris snapped at Kiriko's doubt, her upturned eyes making her look like a typical novel villainess.
"What do I think? You're my lady."
"What the hell am I to you inside that head of yours…."
"My lady."
"Haa. Whatever, just get out. I'm serious right now."
"Got it."
It was obvious from her expression alone.
Kiriko quickly gave Ayane a small fist-pump for encouragement before scurrying out of Art Room A to avoid any fallout.
Now alone, Iris strode over and squatted right in front of Ayane.
"Hey. Ayane."
"…."
Ayane peeked at her through her curtain-like bangs.
"You know, Ayane. We're not forming this band just for make-believe."
Her voice carried weariness.
Iris's tone was more lament than scolding.
"Ayane knows too…."
"Yeah? 'Cause from where I'm standing, it sure doesn't look like it."
Someone who took the band seriously wouldn't act like Ayane.
They wouldn't let a missing member swing their mood—they'd quietly hone their own skills.
"Your priority isn't the band. It's Shin Tae-il."
"That's…."
"I get it. You joined because you like him."
Starting music for someone you admire or love was pretty common in school bands.
How joyful it was to share the same space, time, and hobby with that person.
She couldn't fully empathize, but she understood well enough. Still, that didn't mean forgetting one's duty.
"I said it before, right? Our goal is major debut. And in your current state, forget major—we couldn't even busk as an indie band. You get that?"
"Yeah…."
"If you get it, then please, please focus on practice?"
Iris shook the sheet music she'd handed Ayane earlier with a sigh.
"You know, I didn't tell Shin Tae-il, but I paid for all of this myself?"
"Huh?"
"You have no idea how hard it is to find bass-specific tablature, do you?"
Acoustic or electric guitar tabs were easy to find for free—no need to pay. They were major instruments, after all, with dedicated software and everything.
"Bass is different."
Search online for bass tabs, and you'd find a ton of crap—badly converted guitar tabs or flat-out wrong ones.
Even asking someone who nailed a cover for their tabs? They hesitate.
Makes sense.
Skilled players usually ear-copied the chords themselves for those videos.
"And yet I hunted these down. Out of my own pocket. Hoping it'd really help you."
"For Ayane's…?"
Iris's reason for investing in Ayane was simple.
She wanted her to grow fast.
Whatever the intent, Iris liked Ayane's effort and her quick progress in jam sessions.
Above all.
Shin Tae-il trusted Ayane way too much.
Iris had no clue where that trust came from.
"Ayane can do it!"
Tae-il clearly had this inexplicable faith in Ayane.
Some childhood friend thing?
It bugged her, but since Iris welcomed Ayane's growth too, she happily backed Tae-il's belief.
No point clashing with the leader.
And Ayane had lived up to that trust so far.
She still had rough edges, but considering when she started bass, even Iris was satisfied.
If not for today's noise pollution.
Iris might've genuinely believed in her.
Ayane's performance was that disappointingly wretched.
Not even "disappointing" covered it.
Just pitiful.
"Looking at you now, I can't picture us on stage at all. Weird, right?"
Iris added,
"I could picture it perfectly when it was just you and Shin Tae-il."
"Ugh…."
Ayane clamped her lips shut like a mute, letting out only pained groans.
"Haa."
Iris hugged her knees and flopped down onto the floor.
"Ever heard of the girl band Iron Maiden?"
"N-no…."
"Everyone calls 'em IM. They were huge before GAR blew up."
True to their name—a torture device—the band was far from the fresh, innocent image most girl bands evoked.
Hard rock with scratch vocals, lyrics blunt as their idol Ozaki Yutaka's.
They reeked of stormy teen rebellion.
"Kinda like the girl crush concept big in Korean girl groups. Their stage outfits were all over magazines."
Especially IM's leader, who rocked punk looks expressing dark freedom better than anyone.
"How big? Major debut, then Budokan in just two years. Arena tour the next year. All sold out. They wrote a new legend for girl bands."
"A-arena too…?"
Budokan proved a major artist had "made it." Arenas were for those who'd conquered both commerce and popularity—minimum 5,000 to nearly 10,000 seats, even for smaller ones.
"Yeah. IM nailed mass appeal and musicality as a girl band."
Why GAR, current girl band queens, struggled back then.
All girl bands got downplayed by IM comparisons.
"You've heard their songs, though."
Iris hummed IM's signature chorus.
Ayane's shoulders twitched slightly at the familiar melody.
"Recognize it now?"
"Yeah."
Ayane nodded.
"Friends sang it at karaoke a lot…."
She even remembered the title.
Flying to the Sky, for sure.
"Oricon charts all the time. Then they disbanded?"
"For real?"
"Yup. Know why?"
Iris chuckled at Ayane's wide eyes peeking through her messy bangs.
The reason was absurd.
"At their fifth-anniversary live, the vocalist just up and declared disbandment at the end."
Skills lacking, band hitting limits.
Can't work with these guys anymore.
I'm out.
The iconic farewell was burned into Iris's mind; she recited it verbatim.
"Heh, heh?!"
"Yup. That's how I felt hearing the news."
The vocalist's solo call, no consult with agency, label, or even members.
She got blacklisted from showbiz.
Pissed off a major player big time.
But IM's vocalist thrived indie, massive fandom in tow.
If not for that mega-agency grudge, some other would've snatched her.
"Now she composes whatever she wants, picks ace session players…."
Media ignores her on purpose; hard to track without constant SNS checks.
Iris scratched her head vigorously.
"Point is, in this industry, members get swapped or quit from burnout all the time for reasons like that."
Most Japanese bands have vocals handling composition and lyrics. They set the band's color, become natural leaders, and eventually the band's face and everything.
Humans compare.
Even bandmates compare: skill, popularity, looks, wealth, talent—endless metrics.
Self-esteem chips away with each flaw found.
Low self-esteem leads to dropping out.
Worst case, fights erupt.
"Straight talk."
Iris unwrapped her arms from her knees, groaning as she stretched her back and stood.
Hand on hip.
Leaning down.
Close enough for breaths to mingle.
"Can you handle it?"
Can't keep up? You'll break. That's what Iris meant.
"Ayane…."
Ayane's lips quivered.
Her grip tightened on the bass.
She didn't want to lose like this.
Iris didn't wait kindly for her to speak.
"You know? Most Japanese bands don't demand much from bassists."
More the merrier, sure.
Great bassist skills are ideal.
But on stage, unless it's a bass showcase, they're just rhythm support.
Arrangements could feature bass, but only after reaching live levels that wow fans with freshness.
So bassists eye-catch with unique performances or pivot to songwriting.
Aiming to be another pillar.
Both paths tough as hell.
Iris asked,
"Can you do that?"
"…."
Iris brushed Ayane's bangs aside.
Her amber eyes swirled with unfathomable turmoil.
Iris gently stroked Ayane's cheek.
"Ayane."
A voice so tender it evoked maternal warmth.
"Musicians all carry their goals deep in their hearts."
What music do I want to make?
Who do I want to be like?
Simple, pure goals fuel countless artists through grueling tedium.
To Iris, Ayane sorely lacked that drive.
"Ayane. You can't last in this world staring only at the one you like."
Even talents quit without true commitment.
Iris declared it.
The music world was a demon realm.
Without steel resolve, you'd lag, then flee.
"Flee…."
Suddenly, moonlit memories: talking with Tae-il through the window.
He'd called music tough yet inescapably magnetic, smiling shyly.
A coward who'd fled his passion, but came back a fool.
Maybe showing BARD's shows, recommending their songs—all to make Ayane see music's allure too.
"Bass is a boring, uncool instrument. Expensive, low popularity, stupidly high entry barrier."
Easy to start, sure—but only basics.
Mastery needs open ears, harmony knowledge.
All the grind, minimal payoff.
No casual hobbyist survives it.
"Mark my words."
Keep this up, you and Tae-il won't last.
Someone gets culled like other bands, drowning in guilt and self-loathing, bailing.
"So let's settle it now, without Shin Tae-il. Can you stick it out to the end?"
Even tight-knit school bands drift from petty issues.
Ayane and Tae-il, potential lovers? Worse, if anything.
"If you're staying, make me believe it."
That here.
Our band's bassist is Katsuragi Ayane.
Iris slung on her guitar, waiting.
"…."
Ayane chewed her lip, then shot to her feet.
Legs numb from squatting forever, but she ignored it, striking a pose.
She cranked the volume knob, and Iris asked,
"Think you can do it?"
"Yeah."
She wiped teary eyes, gripped the starting chord.
"I'll try again. No—until I nail it."
Fighting spirit ignited.
A smile crept across Iris's lips.