Wind and Moon Relations (7)
Every closing ceremony has one moment that simply can't be skipped.
The awards ceremony.
Even if they didn't win, it's the players' chance to showcase their achievements to the public and vow to do better next time.
The Interhigh awards went to six players for MVP-equivalent Best Player, thirty for Outstanding Player, and two for Best Libero.
A total of thirty-eight awards were given out.
Some girls accepted their trophies stoically, while others broke down in tears from overwhelming emotion.
Sakuraba Sakuya was the cool, smiling type.
After the closing ceremony wrapped up, there were interviews, followed by greetings to her volleyball teammates and coach, who'd all fought hard together.
And finally…
'Rival.'
The blue-haired girl from Shirakawa High School, who'd won Best Player, blocked Sakuya's path.
She was the one whose service error in the final moments had doomed her team to defeat.
Sakuya greeted her warmly.
"Congrats on the award."
"This thing's meaningless if it's not a win."
The girl glared venomously at the culprit who'd thwarted her long-cherished dream of Interhigh victory.
She'd wanted to gift that championship to her graduating seniors.
And this girl standing before her had snatched it away.
That was reason enough to hate her.
Her eyes were still red and bloodshot from crying earlier, making her look more cute than scary.
Sakuya smiled breezily and asked,
"You'll be back at Interhigh next year, right?"
"Spring High too."
"Haha. Sorry. I've got other commitments, so no Spring High for me."
"What!?"
The girl gaped in shock at Sakuya's announcement that she wouldn't compete in Spring High.
"W-Why!? You're so strong…!"
"Told ya. Other schedules. I don't stick to just one event."
"Just one…?"
Sakuya spread her fingers wide.
"Lemme see. Tennis, table tennis, swimming…"
Plus, another major tournament overlapped with Spring High, so her calendar was packed.
"Guess we'll meet again next summer."
"N-Next summer…"
"Looking forward to it. What's your name?"
"K-Kitakawa Sayo! Shirakawa's ace in the making!"
"Sakuraba Sakuya. I'll be waiting up top."
Sakuya flashed a bright grin, patted Sayo's shoulder, and walked past her.
The Interhigh women's volleyball closing ceremony was drawing to a close.
The awards ran longer than expected, so instead of waiting in the stands, Tae-il and Rena killed time chatting on the lobby stairs.
Their shared topics? Iris or drums—pick one.
Iris talk would've turned into gossip, so they dove into chat about Rena's drums, supposedly arriving soon.
"They said it'd take forever, but it's coming tomorrow after all?"
"Around noon."
"Perfect."
"Heh."
Tae-il had no idea how many complaint calls and nagging sessions it'd taken to make that delivery happen by tomorrow.
'Lemme check tomorrow's schedule…'
Tae-il mentally sorted through his planner.
Practice was on the docket, but with Rena's drums arriving, he hesitated a bit.
'Maybe shift practice earlier?'
No one would complain about starting sooner.
Morning heat wouldn't hit as hard as midday, so they could kick off fresh and energized.
He needed to swing by the Animal Husbandry Club in the morning anyway. This way, less downtime, less wasted time—ideal.
Having finalized his mental calendar, Tae-il turned to Rena.
"Cool if I swing by your place after practice tomorrow?"
"Y-You're really coming…?"
"Gotta set the drums to fit your body anyway."
He'd adjust the height properly for her size and tweak it for comfortable playing.
"Think you can handle it solo, Honjo?"
"Don't they send someone to assemble it?"
"Haha. Yeah, right…"
"Ugh."
Rena grimaced at Tae-il's reaction, letting out a groan.
For giant pianos or high-end kits from specialty shops, sure—but a standard drum set? No way.
Tuning was the player's domain anyway.
"Plus, I'll check the minimalist setup while I'm there."
"Minimalist setup?"
"For busking later. Can't lug a full kit everywhere."
There were portable busking drums, but Tae-il's conscience wouldn't let him push Rena to buy more.
'School first for busking kits. Plenty of Light Music Clubs besides mine—six more, even.'
Not every drummer there could be a show-off like Rena, flexing cash.
Instruments were pricey, as he'd mentioned a dozen times. Drums especially.
Bass guitars looked cheap by comparison.
Entry-level drums blew past 100,000 yen easy. Yen, of course.
Even if Rena had money to burn, Tae-il had zero desire to strain her wallet.
'Can't splurge when we don't even know if they're serious yet…'
That'd just burden him more.
He was dead set on success, but that didn't mean reckless investing on blind faith.
"Once you're comfy, try cajon too. Less punchy than drums, but fun."
"Cajon?"
"Box you sit on and slap with your hands."
Great for quick rhythms where full percussion was a hassle. Common in arrangements and covers.
Tae-il pulled up a YouTube vid to explain: a guy straddling a cajon, slapping front and sides smoothly.
"Oh, that's a cajon?"
Rena eyed it with obvious disappointment.
Tae-il chuckled at her predictable reaction.
"Don't underestimate it just 'cause it looks easy. Nailing that takes skill and flair."
No percussion was simple, but cajon's lack of fixed technique made it brutal.
That's why acoustic bands loved it for busking or small-studio tracking.
Even with Tae-il's rundown, Rena scoffed, barely listening.
"Pfft. How hard can it be?"
To her, it looked like a toy for kids banging randomly.
"Haha. I'll remember that. Gonna throw it back at you later."
Every instrument had its charms and quirks.
Maximizing them took blood, sweat, and tears.
Scoff too hard, and you'd regret it.
'Happens with bass all the time…'
Back in his past life, teaching bass at academies for pocket money, Tae-il always asked why students picked it.
Top answer: "Looks easier than guitar."
He taught anyway for the cash, but those memories stung.
'That's why Ayane's so great…'
She chose bass for him.
He wished she'd show more passion for music, but time would fix that.
Take her to a BARD concert, and her mindset would shift.
Tae-il trusted Tenma Izumi's plot-armor power from the original story. Unaware Iris had already started working her magic.
"Ah, here comes the jock."
Tae-il looked up at Rena's voice.
Sakuya was waving from afar, sprinting their way.
"Fun's over."
Rena dusted off her butt and stood.
Sakuya arrived right on cue.
"Sorry! Late?"
"Nah. Time to roll. Greetings done?"
"Yup."
Sakuya thumbs-upped and took the lead.
Tae-il followed, dragging his suitcase, with Rena alongside.
They slipped out of the gym before the crowd surged for the next event.
Steamy summer heat hit them like a sauna.
"Whew. Sun's right overhead—brutal."
"Hot, so hurry up, jock."
"Haha. Don't whine, Honjo."
Sakuya shaded her eyes from the glare and pointed at a distant building.
"See that building? Killer udon spot in the alley nearby."
She'd reserved a table—no waiting—with a grin.
"Udon? We came to Gunma for udon…?"
Rena grumbled.
Tae-il had caught Sakuya's udon hints, but Rena was blindsided.
Seeing Rena's blatant disgust, Sakuya tilted her head.
"Hate udon? They got karaage and gyoza too. Both delish."
"Bribing me with food?"
"Donburi and ramen too. Don't sweat it."
"You. Little. Pig!"
Rena barked.
"Who you calling pig!? Food won't sway me!"
"Hmm. Taichi, what does Honjo like?"
"Yuba and omurice?"
It was proudly listed in her profile—probably spot-on.
"E-Eek…!"
Rena flushed at Tae-il's reveal.
Sakuya covered her mouth, giggling at the near-confession.
"Whoa, Honjo's got kid tastes, huh?"
Stuck, Rena vented by punching Tae-il's arm.
"How'd you know!? Even Papa doesn't know I love omurice!"
"Huh? Arisugawa mentioned it las—"
"Iriiiiis!"
Rena stomped in embarrassment.
'Sorry, Arisugawa.'
Iris had only mentioned yuba, but Tae-il zipped it.
As Rena's tantrum wound down, Sakuya mediated.
"Anyway, yuba's obvious. Kids' omurice set too, I bet. What now?"
"Just go! Let's go alreadyyy…"
"Decided! Udon time!"
"Tch…"
Sakuya pumped her fist energetically, then eyed Tae-il.
"Uh, do I gotta yell it too?"
"Yay!"
"Y-Yayyy?"
Tae-il awkwardly mimicked her, thrusting his fist skyward.
He'd thought he was used to it, but manga tropes still required more training.
'Never going to the beach with these girls…'
Tae-il vowed inwardly.
Shouting "Umi-da!" at the sea? He'd die of cringe first.
Udon shop.
Rena was stunned by Sakuya's appetite.
Tae-il too.
He'd known from the original story, but seeing it firsthand? Shocking.
Empty bowls piling by Sakuya: one, two, three, four, five…
"Another order!"
"Coming right up!"
Make that six.
Two udon portions, karaage, trendy kimchi gyoza, oyakodon—and still ordering more.
Then,
"Rice too!"
"Coming right up!"
Not enough? Another rice bowl on top.
"Still short… Ah, one more udon noodle add—"
"Just eat this, Sakuya!"
Tae-il shoved his share at her before she could order again.
Sakuya lit up.
"For real? You barely touched yours, Taichi."
"Watching you eat fills me up."
"He doesn't eat much anyway."
"Doesn't he?"
Sakuya eyed Tae-il curiously.
Their shared meals were just school lunch, so she wouldn't know.
"Thanks a ton…!"
Sakuya clasped her hands and took his udon.
Rena nibbled her omurice with a queasy look.
"Jock eats like a damn monster."
"She works hard for it."
"That tiny stomach hold all that?"
"She's way taller than you, though…"
"Wanna die?"
"Didn't say a word."
Tae-il zipped his lips as Rena glared.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead.
'Don't girls act ladylike around their crush…?'
Observing Sakuya today, Rena figured she had it bad for Tae-il—practically fact.
But,
'Is that… right?'
Sakuya scarfed away, cheeks puffed, ignoring Tae-il completely.
Unlike Ayane yesterday.
Tae-il's constant awed murmurs suggested even he hadn't seen Sakuya like this.
'Yet he looks all pleased…'
Rena dropped the thought.
"Still short—one last bowl…"
"Order reasonably, you pig!"
"P-Pig…"
And so,
Sakuya's endless lunch ended, struck down by Rena's "pig" barb.
On the way out after paying,
Sakuya, confidence dented by Rena's yell, timidly asked Tae-il,
"T-Taichi… Am I really a pig?"
Tae-il barely stifled a laugh.
"You? Not even close."
"Really?"
"Totally real. Why'd I lie?"
"But Honjo…"
"Don't mind Honjo."
Tae-il comforted her sudden gloom.
Living as the golden girl forever made her thick-skinned to gossip but vulnerable to direct insults.
'What if I really look like a pig?'
Rena's words spooked her extra, since she was over average weight.
Unlike Sakuya's worry, Rena probably didn't mean it literally.
She casually called slim Iris a pig sometimes, right?
Rena had picky standards.
Her "pig" jabs came with criteria.
Ayane, for instance, had never gotten that label—not in the original or so far.
And the one big physical difference between Ayane and Sakuya/Iris was…
'Boobs.'
Rena and Ayane shared that envy point.
In short, Rena's "pig" digs stemmed from jealousy over certain assets.
Sakuya didn't see it that way, though.
"Nah. I'm kinda heavy for my height…"
"Normal for you. Tall, and… y'know, muscly from sports."
"R-Really?"
"Should bulk up more if you're active."
"Nah, not that much…"
"Grr…"
"Ow!"
Silent listener Rena, pissed, stomped Tae-il's shin for no reason.
Right after,
For post-meal exercise, they hit a batting cage.
"H-Hit it!?"
Rena, first up as Tae-il's petty revenge, flailed in panic.
Her tiny head made the safety helmet slip comically.
"Dunno if I should say this…"
"Spit it out!"
"Helmet slipping looks cute, Honjo."
"Now!?"
Rena freaked at Sakuya's "cute" comment.
And—
Thwack!
"Kyaa!"
The machine's pitch whizzed past her into the net.
Machines have no mercy.
It kept firing balls, heedless of Rena's plight.
"Honjo! Eyes on the ball!"
"What if it hits my face!?"
"It won't if you watch and swing hard…!"
"Nah, she's short—might actually hit."
"Not short…!"
Fuming at Tae-il, Rena swung with all her might.
Crack!
Awful, risky form—but the ball flew straight.
"Nice shot!"
Sakuya cheered the clean hit.
"Wh-Wha?"
Rena stared blankly at her stinging hands and bat, surprised by her own swing.
The machine fired again without pause.
She smacked the incoming pitch desperately.
Pure reflex.
"Kyaa!"
A heavy thud—ground ball.
Sakuya whooped and jumped.
"That's it, Honjo! You're good!"
"Drummer nerves…"
Tae-il was impressed.
Indoor type, small frame—yet swinging that bat big.
Her athleticism shone subtly.
"Honjo! Next one's coming!"
"Dunno what's happening, but…"
Rena eyed the grounded ball vacantly, then regripped.
"Dieee!"
First proper stance—and swing.
Crack!
Crisp hit, liner straight out.
Sakuya marveled.
"Whoa! Real game, that's double at least?"
"Form's too clean."
Honjo Rena: .700 average achieved!
Next batter: Shin Tae-il.
"Whoa!"
Whiff.
"Uh- Huh?"
Whiff again.
Thud!
"Hot hot hot!"
Fouled grounder, hands buzzing.
"N-Nice ball…"
Even Sakuya couldn't defend that abysmal average.
Tae-il slunk from the plate, shoulders slumped.
"Lame. Worse than my first swings, you rice-for-brains."
"…"
Tae-il hung his head at Rena's roast.
Shin Tae-il: .200 average.
Last batter.
Sakuraba Sakuya.
Crack!
"Whoa."
"N-Nice shot!"
Crack!
"Clean."
Crack!
"Dude."
Crack!
"Seriously, reflect on yourself."
"…"
Crack!
Sakuraba Sakuya: 1.000 average achieved!
"Next!"
Arcade next to the batting center.
Tae-il nailed a rhythm game full combo, smirking at Rena triumphantly.
"Don't underestimate esports powerhouse Korea!"
"Never did."
"Next!"
Tae-il picked a fighter to show the skill gap.
Rena got stomped, naturally.
Next: Sakuya.
YOU LOSE!
"Huh?"
"Fake Korean."
"Haha. Sorry, won."
"Not… like that?"
Early experience edge faded—Sakuya's superior physique took over, stringing losses.
Tae-il whined pathetically.
"Not KOF! First Tekken for me!"
"Pathetic, Korean."
"If only Animal Tekken… Argh!"
Rena shut his blubbering with a shin kick.
As Tae-il stewed in defeat, Sakuya pointed at a couple's game.
"Ah, Taichi! Wanted to try that. Together?"
"House…? Wait, zombie shooter?"
Tae-il's face paled at horror games.
"Haha. Zombie bashing. Tough?"
"Dude, Korea's FPS kings."
"Is it FPS…?"
Perplexed but pride-stung, Tae-il grabbed a gun beside Sakuya.
"I'm total trash at this…"
"Haha. No worries. I'll cover your misses."
"S-Sakuya…"
"You two look reversed—girl carrying guy."
Game start.
Zombie jumpscare burst in with a guttural roar.
"Gyaah!"
"Just a cutscene, Taichi."
Sakuya stopped Tae-il's panicked empty firing.
He desperately called to watching Rena.
"Honjo! Switch! Switch! Can't do this!"
"Too short."
"You only then…!"
"Taichi! Zombies!"
"R-Reload!? Reload!?"
"Shake outside screen!"
"Not detecting! Broken!?"
"Haha. Taichi, you're dying."
"Eek!"
"Pfft! Dying laughing. You game fun. Streamer material?"
"Not fun for me!"
Sakuya cleared it solo, ultimately.
"N-Next…!"
Plenty gamed out, they hit the final boss: UFO catcher.
Sakuya clenched her fist.
"Heh. Arcade's queen: plush grabber!"
"How 'bout you?"
Rena eyed Tae-il, expectations dashed.
"Grabber? Piece of…"
Tae-il, noticeably paler, fed coins.
"What to win ya?"
"Th-That sushi plush…!"
Sakuya's eyes sparkled—she wanted one bad.
"That? Easy…"
"More bluff?"
"Nope."
Surprisingly, Tae-il had real talent.
Three tries: sushi plush secured.
Sakuya beamed, hugging him tight.
"Yay! Thanks, Taichi!"
"G-Glad you like…"
Her embrace crushed; soft chest press overwhelming.
Freed at last, Tae-il rubbed his chest with a sigh, then turned to Rena.
"You, Honjo?"
"M-Me too?"
"Skip you? Pick anything not huge."
Rena scanned the machine.
Nothing jumped out, but a gloomy dark-circle cat plush caught her eye.
"That one."
"Black cat there?"
"Can ya get it?"
"Easier than Sakuya's."
Tae-il inserted coins, pulled lever.
Crane swayed, hooked the head perfectly.
"Ah, one more try."
"Didn't it work?"
"Watch."
It dropped just before payout.
"How'd you know?"
"Gut?"
Casual as ever, he repositioned.
"Hold up. Got it quick."
One more go: success.
"Here, your requested plush, Honjo."
"Th-Thanks…"
Rena blushed, squishing the plush face.
"Why that cat? Not even cute."
"…Kinda cute."
"Is it?"
Tae-il squinted, tilting his head cluelessly.
Rena giggled, hugging it.
"Dummy."
"Not a dummy…"
"Are too?"
She stuck out her tongue.
"Whatever. Dropping it."
Better dummy than endless bickering with Rena unbeaten.
Tae-il scratched his head.
"Anyway, arcade done. Time to…"
"Time to?"
"Karaoke!"
Sakuya jumped in.
"Geh!"
Rena recoiled.
Karaoke.
First time ever for her—uncharted territory.
Her singing? Just humming along to Iris.
She edged back warily.
"I-I barely ever sang…"
Tae-il grabbed her fleeing arm.
Pale-faced earlier, now grinning widest.
"Haha. Karaoke's fine even if you suck."
*Especially* then.
'Her voice owner's influence—she'll sing fine.'
Tae-il beamed, dragging her forcibly.
"C'mon, Honjo. Piggyback if walking's tough?"
"No! You're just messing with me!?"
"What? Oh, Sakuya—guide us?"
"Leave it! Dying to hear Honjo's cute voice sing."
"Not cute!?"
"Haha. Let's go. Digimon world."
"Karaoke!"
And so,
Rena was dragged kicking and screaming to karaoke.