Romantic Relations (8)
Karaoke.
This place, commonly called karaoke in Japan, was an entertainment spot where you could belt out songs at the top of your lungs without worrying about prying eyes.
In both Korea and Japan, it was practically a mandatory stop when hanging out with friends.
Whether you were popular or a total loner, everyone ended up there at least once in their life—a devilishly addictive spot.
Especially in Korea, with coin-operated karaoke rooms popping up everywhere, once you fell into its spell, you'd keep coming back alone to feed it your money.
Sakuraba Sakuya, being a natural social butterfly, was a near-regular at karaoke spots.
Of course, always with a group of friends, as befitted her type.
Tae-il hadn't been to one much in this life, but in his previous one, he'd been a karaoke fiend through and through.
He'd gone alone sometimes, true to his loner ways, and had dragged his bandmates there after practices for after-parties.
Honjo Rena was a different story.
For her, karaoke was familiar yet utterly alien.
Ah, no way... we're actually going to karaoke...?
Rena, who'd never set foot in one her entire life, was utterly bewildered by the situation.
She even resented how close the place was.
An arcade just one block away, and a karaoke joint right after? What kind of outrage was this!
No matter her appearance, Rena was 100% Japanese on the inside, but unlike Iris, she'd lived a life far removed from pop music.
Pop music?
She couldn't even pretend to like it for the sake of her image.
People wanted—and her patrons demanded—a haughty, icy prodigy artist, the youngest genius painter.
She didn't have the environment to geek out over something like Iris did.
She didn't need it, either.
Plus, with no friends except Iris, that severely narrowed her horizons.
Like an old fogey who couldn't keep up with trends, Rena was disconnected from pop music.
Ka... karaoke...
Rena swallowed hard.
Karaoke was a familiar word to her, but not a comfortable one.
In simple terms, it was foreign territory.
Honestly, her familiarity came mostly from thin books; this was her first real visit.
In short, to Rena, karaoke meant "a place for lewd deeds."
No matter the genre, that's how it always played out in those books.
Rena craned her neck back until it hurt.
"It's... so big...."
Not even in Tokyo, yet the whole building was a karaoke joint—way bigger than she'd imagined.
Nothing like the ones in thin books.
"Big?"
Sakuraba Sakuya, who'd dragged her here, tilted her head.
"This is pretty standard, isn't it?"
"This is... standard?"
Rena's worldview shattered.
Tae-il gave a wry smile and explained.
"This is standard. Most Japanese karaoke places are corporate chains."
That's why their services were so over-the-top generous.
A lone shopkeeper couldn't swing that kind of operation.
"R-Really?"
"Asking me, though...?"
Sakuya shrugged at Rena's glance.
Unlike Tae-il, she frequented karaoke but couldn't care less about the business side.
"This is standard..."
Rena gawked at the flashy exterior.
It evoked the ornate, castle-like vibe of love hotels dotting highways.
"Th-This isn't secretly a love hotel or something, right?"
Rena shrank back in preemptive fear, and Sakuya grinned mischievously, like she'd thought of a prank.
"Heh heh. Love hotels do have karaoke machines sometimes."
"It's not a real love hotel!?"
Tae-il sighed and wedged between them.
"Stop teasing her, Sakuya. Honjo, it's not a love hotel, so quit freaking out."
"I'm not freaking out!"
"Then let's head in already. It's hot out here."
Noon had long passed, but the sun still blazed mercilessly across Japan.
Heat haze shimmered from the asphalt horizon.
Tae-il, wilting in the heat, nudged Rena's sweat-dampened back to hurry her along.
"I-I can walk myself!"
"Yeah, yeah."
She said that, but Tae-il didn't let go first.
Only after entering the air-conditioned interior did he release her.
"I'll handle payment. One hour good?"
"Two hours!"
Sakuya thrust out her index and middle fingers dismissively.
Tae-il, planning to extend anyway, nodded.
"Whatever, I'm fine with it. But is Honjo?"
"Ahaha, Tae-chi worries too much. Honjo'll get used to it quick. Right?"
"Where do you get off saying I'll get used to it...?"
Even as she replied with a pale face, Sakuya patted Rena's shoulder with unshakable cheer.
"Honjo's sneakily dramatic, huh."
"Not dramatic..."
While Sakuya teased Rena, Tae-il finished paying and approached.
"All set. Room 105."
"Heh heh. Tae-chi treating? Might be a little touched if so."
"Sorry to burst that bubble. I'll split it evenly later."
"Tch."
Before buying the bass, maybe—but lately, Tae-il's wallet was hurting.
"No helping it. What was it again? 105?"
"Yeah. All the way at the end of the hall."
With that, Tae-il handed Sakuya the mic basket.
"Go on in. I'll grab drinks."
"OK!"
"Th-The end of the hall? Kinda ominous..."
"Ahaha, Honjo's surprisingly jumpy~."
"Not jumpy, it's just...!"
"Ahaha, got it, so let's go. Karaoke's for singing—no need to be scared."
Sakuya soothed the squirming Rena and headed to the room.
Just before she vanished, Tae-il called out.
"Sakuya! Oolong tea for drinks?"
"Yeah! Carbonation's bad for the throat when singing! Right, Honjo?"
"I'm singing too!?"
"OK."
After ushering them in, Tae-il grabbed drinks from the bar.
"Hm?"
He felt a weird stare and turned.
The clerk was there.
Eye contact held, but the clerk kept glaring at Tae-il.
Two hotties and karaoke? Lucky bastard...
Tae-il smiled awkwardly and finished grabbing the drinks.
Ignoring the clerk's piercing gaze on his back, he hurried to 105.
"I'm here."
"Good work, Tae-chi."
As soon as Tae-il entered, Sakuya set down the remote and greeted him.
"Sakuya first?"
"Obviously."
Sakuya grinned wryly and chin-nodded at Rena, huddled in the sofa corner.
"A-All karaoke rooms look the same..."
Rena muttered to herself, hugging her knees in the corner, glancing around nervously.
"Guys and girls doing... stuff... here? Eek!"
Scanning the room, she locked eyes with Tae-il, flinched, and looked away.
"Can't exactly make her sing like that, huh?"
"Yeah."
Tae-il wondered if bringing her was a mistake.
"Don't worry too much. She'll loosen up soon."
"Hope so."
"Anyway, guess that means I go first. Cool?"
Sakuya winked at the remote.
No reason to object, so Tae-il shrugged okay.
He loved karaoke, but it had been ages—first song felt daunting even for him.
"Alright, first one, so something super upbeat and popular..."
Sakuya worked the remote, searching without hesitation—unlike most who dithered.
"Already picked your song?"
"Yup."
"Socialites are on another level."
Tae-il wryly smiled and handed her iced oolong tea.
"Thanks."
Sakuya beamed her thanks.
"Sakuya sings well?"
"Heh."
At Tae-il's question, Sakuya flashed a confident grin and grabbed the mic.
"Don't faint when you hear."
She hit start; familiar piano notes flowed from the speakers.
"Huh?"
Rena's ears perked up from her knee-hug in the corner; even she knew this tune.
"Heh, looks like you both know it."
Sakuya smugly surveyed them, then began—softly at first.
Then nailed the high note clean in the next line.
Forward.
Sakuya unleashed her athletic lung power.
"Woo!"
Tae-il whistled in awe.
Even he, who'd lost interest in anime post-reincarnation, knew this—Japan's hottest song right now.
Tae-il shook the tambourine he'd gotten from the clerk, cheering along.
Rena, peeking slyly, crawled over on the sofa to Tae-il.
"That song? The one with 'blade' or whatever?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, think so. Super trendy anime OP lately."
Lauded for animation that "shredded the screen," it had sparked a national frenzy with its quality.
The OP specialist singer, usually niche despite popularity, even won awards—pure social phenomenon.
Sakuya's got taste, surprisingly.
Or rather, smart pick, Sakuya-style.
Sakuya was an otaku.
Probably devoured every seasonal anime.
But the group? Rena, who might not even watch anime, and Tae-il, surface-level fan.
Unless mega-hit, no one would vibe.
Hence, an anime OP everyone knew.
She couldn't match the original's highs perfectly, but leveraged her volume for her own arranged flair.
Tae-il figured she'd be top-tier among friends at karaoke.
"You're killing it!"
Tae-il shook the tambourine hard for the chorus.
She twisted her neck for a high note, winking at him.
"Sakuya's a god! Sakuya's a god!"
"They're having fun..."
Watching their eye-flirty exchange, Rena irkedly mashed the plush doll's head with her thumb.
Tae-il chuckled at her solo sulk.
"Honjo, pick your song now—save time."
"Eugh."
"We can't be the only ones singing."
Tae-il grinned slyly and tossed her a remote.
"We'll do five; pick slow."
"Hey! Wait a—"
As Sakuya's song wound down, Tae-il queued his and stood.
No trace of his usual lethargy; he sang raw acapella beside her, tambourine flying.
Rena gaped at his groove.
"Is that the same total nerd...?"
Tae-il was dead serious about karaoke fun.
"Shining on fate~!"
"Shining!"
Final instrumental hit; Sakuya laughed, flopping on the sofa.
"Tae-chi, you're hilarious!"
"Didn't like it?"
Tae-il belatedly checked her vibe, post-hype.
Sakuya wiped tears of laughter, shaking her head.
"I'm good. Wait, you always like this?"
"Kinda...?"
"Hm. Upbeat songs it is, then."
Sakuya declared she'd match him, no complaints; Tae-il brightened visibly.
Meanwhile.
What're they even saying?
Rena twitched her brow alone, lost in their cryptic chat.
Sakuya's song ended.
Tae-il's turn.
"Here goes!"
Marching intro blared; Tae-il held a mystery walkie-talkie like a mic, arm raised high.
Then, surprisingly tenor voice with dreamy melody.
"Today is the day when the sun...."
"Hey!"
Sakuya sprang up from the sofa—knew it instantly—tambourine response.
Only Rena, clueless on the tune, tilted her head.
English lyrics screamed pop, but structure pure J-pop.
Honestly.
Rena barely knew songs.
Zero ties to pop.
As said, image meant classical concerts over band gigs—dull, refined stuff.
Drawing BGM? All classical.
So ingrained, she knew titles and lyrics by heart.
Reason her music grades beat average, probably.
Pop she knew? BARD scraps from Iris nagging.
And doujin starter life: skimmed new anime tunes like a fanzine fiend.
But ignorance didn't mean tin ear.
She got Tae-il's pick was catchy.
Unlike droopy Korean ballads or X Japan's slow rock—pure mood-lifter.
"Hey!"
Tae-il bounced kid-like, belting hype.
Weakling rep aside, singing stamina was separate—barely winded.
What a weirdo...
Rena grumbled inwardly, but her hidden foot tapped rhythm under the table.
Fingers drummed the surface.
Good songs move even the prim.
Ask the title later.
Thoughts met Tae-il's eyes.
He stretched an arm her way, waving invitingly.
Come join.
Tempting, but she shook her head no.
No guts to wedge in and bounce like a maniac yet.
* * *
Karaoke after forever.
So he overdid it without thinking.
Tae-il hadn't planned full-throttle jumping from the start.
But once ignited, old habits kicked in—singing all-out.
It's fine. Sakuya's cool with it.
Tae-il's karaoke etiquette was iffy.
Go to karaoke, sing till your throat gives out—that's the rule.
Under that creed, he'd queue preemptively, no mercy.
Jump into others' songs freely, even snatch mics.
Quiet guy turned wild horse sans booze.
Post-adulthood, he restrained—but habits die hard.
Soon topped friends' "karaoke blacklist."
But past life talk.
This life? Too busy for visits.
Forgotten urge... until now.
Perfectly timed.
Long-slumbering desire surfaced.
Started with tambourine, then raw chorus backups.
Sakuya didn't mind—passed the mic seamlessly, dueted fully.
Tae-il realized.
Sakuya's cool with interruptions!
Even offered to match him.
Reins off.
Desire dam burst.
Stagnant cravings cascaded.
Forgot even loosening Rena.
"Moonlight...."
He sang.
Tae-il thought he sucked at singing.
Not really.
Just musician's high bar self-deprecating.
"Good singer" to him meant pro-level, not "decent amateur."
But no law against bad singers singing.
He loved music.
Loving music meant loving to sing.
College ear-training tricks unleashed.
Steady breath. Cords narrow just right, no strain...
Eye-locked with Sakuya.
Passed walkie-mic smoothly, sang on.
Sudden raw switch? Body used to it.
Worried her reaction, though.
But.
"Let's dance, everybody, until the sunrise."
Sakuya took it flawlessly, lyrics unseen.
Grinned challengingly; Tae-il grinned back.
Chorus incoming.
Quick breath.
Light headache-dizzy, voice up.
"Dragon night, Dragon night...!"
Festival vibe peaked.
Finale.
"Even if it's just for one night...."
Song fading.
Jump-singing Tae-il yelled the end.
"Hey!"
Flopped on sofa.
"Throat hurts!"
Falsetto whole way mimicking original wrecked throat and head.
Over lingering instrumental, Sakuya offered her oolong.
"Dummy Tae-chi. First song, go easy. Full throttle early, you'll crash."
"Don't care! Karaoke till throat dies!"
"Ahaha. Flexible bod, sturdy pipes?"
"...No comment."
Tae-il shut up; Sakuya snickered, queued next.
Tae-il gathered mics, leaned into table-Sakuya.
"Anime tune again?"
"Tae-chi, glad famous bands do anime OPs."
Sakuya chuckled, hit start.
"Can claim 'I like the band,' not the anime."
TL;DR: Sakuya no lolicon.
"Your re, re, previous life...!"
Tae-il dueted with regret inside.
If she had a fave band, perfect band bait.
* * *
Eight songs straight.
Sakuya and Tae-il alternating nonstop.
Alternating in name only.
Raw backups each time—effectively duet marathon.
Sakuya too, but Tae-il got drunk on vibe, tackling relentless highs beyond his paygrade.
Especially Novelbright's high-note infamy.
"Highs won't coooome!"
Screamed over sang.
Price: his throat.
Rena poked collapsed Tae-il with plush paw.
"Hey, not dead, right? Still alive?"
"A-Alive..."
Rena stifled a burst laugh at his wrecked voice.
Falsetto-to-bellow till hoarse—grandpa rasp now.
"Dude, you sound like a total gramps."
"..."
Hurt by "gramps," Tae-il pouted.
Rena giggled, eyed Sakuya gulping oolong.
"Hey, he'll croak like this."
"Tae-chi's flaw. Stamina lacking."
"Throat dying ain't stamina..."
"Train cords too?"
"..."
Rena shut up.
Wanted to say "pointless for normies," but Sakuya present.
Sakuya kneaded Tae-il's neck.
"Post-Interhigh, special training with me?"
"Special" jolted him hard.
Forgot throat, flailed excuses.
"N-No need to waste your busy time on me..."
"Ahaha, no need to refuse?"
Sakuya's purple eyes gleamed, licking lips.
"No, your intensity'll kill me..."
"People don't die easy, Tae-chi."
Sakuya scheduled sweat-fest meetup casually.
Tae-il shed silent tears.
"Yup yup, you're pumped too—happy tears! Makes me happy!"
"Doesn't look like happy tears..."
"Honjo wanna join?"
"Happy people cry. Common sense?"
Rena betrayed Tae-il light-speed.
"Traitor...!"
"Not even same team, dummy."
As they bickered, Sakuya eyed Rena mid-next-song pick.
"...Why stare?"
Rena's voice quavered forebodingly.
"Hm."
Sakuya toyed with mic.
Thump.
Finger-tap echoed via speakers.
She could do ten more easy, but wanted a breather.
Worried for fried Tae-il too.
Rena seemed adapted—voice revived from corpse-quiet.
Sakuya handed her the mic.
Rena panicked at sudden pass.
"Wh-Why the mic?"
"Why? Your turn, Honjo."
Eight straight from them—her go.
Ironclad logic; Rena bit her lip.
Conscience stopped her refusing.
Plus.
"Honjo, I can do more—give it here."
Rena twisted away, denying Tae-il.
"Honjo?"
"Rest, dummy."
"D-Dummy?"
"Who chases killers if no sing?"
Not really.
"I seem like that...?"
Rena nodded.
Tae-il rubbed his embarrassed nape.
Let him sing more? Disaster vibes.
"No, I'm really fine..."
"Patient, shut it."
To others, not fine—dying patient rasp.
Rena stood, faced machine.
Regrettably.
Few songs in mind.
Even if, full sing? She'd shake head.
Not Schubert's Erlkönig here...
Erlkönig drilled from childhood—lyrics memorized.
Doubt on karaoke list, though.
Her dallying; Sakuya soothed.
"Plenty time—think slow, Honjo."
"Decided."
"I'll duet..."
"I'll handle—shut up."
"Mmph?"
Rena clapped dying-grandpa Tae-il's mouth.
"Jock girl, seal that mouth. He'll cough blood."
"Huh?"
Sakuya, mid "Humans tougher than you think," saw Rena's dead-serious face, complied quietly.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
Sakuya shushed flailing Tae-il with finger to lips.
"Shh. Listen quiet."
"Mrrph..."
Tae-il nodded blankly.
Rena inputted.
"Huuuuh."
Pre-intro breath mic'd, speaker-rumbled to ears.
Lyric guitar tickled ears.
Tae-il's eyes widened at BARD-frequent progression.
If I'm With You.
BARD tunes: seem easy, hard AF.
Izumi's vast range, but weirdly tough to follow.
Even pros struggle mimicking her timbre.
Plus universal appeal, emotion pour—insane difficulty spike.
Yet Rena's pick: BARD's rumored easiest.
Intentional?
Tae-il found it unexpected.
If I'm With You easy yes, but B-side—low recognition.
BARD fan only pick.
Iris influence?
Tae-il overthought; Rena's reason simple.
Tae-il sang wild, off-key frenzy.
Ended grandpa-voice; Sakuya snatched mic laughing.
Rena lacked his reckless guts.
Don't care song—hate embarrassing myself.
Pathologically hated looking weak; no off-note risks.
So, vaguest memory's easiest.
Intro end.
Tiny lips parted—not cute clear voice, but whisper-soft fragility.
"Even I, who can't do anything alone..."
Thicker appeal than expected from Rena.
Tae-il.
And Sakuya swallowed, watching silent.