Chapter 130
Chapter 130
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Jazz Orchestra Auditions
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“Orion... Hashimoto Atsushi... Isn’t this lineup a bit too glamorous for the members?”
The jazz artists who had come for auditions at Himari’s summons whispered among themselves upon seeing Orion and Hashimoto Atsushi, who were already there preparing.
They were right—the people selected so far were indeed impressive.
A legendary band paired with a rising star?
“An all-star level, right?”
No, with a rhythm section like that, is there even room for me in the horn section?
Some who thought that shook their heads and left even before the auditions began.
Some didn’t even make it past the entrance to the practice room.
“President... no, Uncle. Why don’t you come inside instead of sitting out here?”
Tatemura Shuji, who had come to Himari’s practice room upon hearing about the major auditions today, was sitting at the entrance with Nanase in tow.
...Why?
“If they’re the type to turn tail just from seeing my face, they’d only be a hindrance during the performance.”
He was conducting his own preliminary screening.
Not exactly judging people, but more like acting as a filter by sitting at the entrance?
The effect was remarkable—some of the more timid ones took one look at Shuji and turned right back around.
“There might be some truly skilled people among them...”
“If they were that good, I’d have carried them in from the entrance myself. You think I don’t know this industry?”
Shuji held his ground as he said that.
After about five more people fled at the sight of Shuji, the auditions finally got underway.
They each took their places with their instruments and played in turn.
Even artists who could have skipped straight to the next round had to do the same.
The reason no one dared complain was the intimidating presence behind Yeonwoo, the one doing the judging—Heo Ok, Himari, Orion, and Tatemura Shuji were all seated there, radiating fearsome auras.
‘Go ahead, try talking back to our Yeonwoo.’
No one could utter a word like “What does a kid know?” in front of that kind of pressure.
Amid all this, Yeonwoo selected members as quickly as possible.
He had no choice but to be quick.
First, check how many blue fairies followed each one, then see how many appeared during their performance, and finally, test their ear with a playback.
Ten minutes per person was plenty.
Anything more would be beyond Yeonwoo, who had never actually handled wind instruments himself.
If he was ever unsure, he’d glance back, and the veterans with decades of experience would discreetly signal thumbs up or down.
That was how Yeonwoo assembled the saxophone and trumpet, trombone and clarinet sections.
Yeonwoo played the sheet music and computer-generated AR for the newly arranged versions of Himari’s Renkyo and Forsythia for Orion, Atsushi, and the freshly selected section members.
Of course, Heo Ok, Shuji, Himari, and Nanase listened along from their seats.
“Wow... rearranging it like this? It could pass for straight-up classical, not just a jazz orchestra.”
Shuji immediately swung a fist and knocked Shigeru on the head at his words.
“Swing is alive and breathing here—what are you talking about classical, you idiot!”
“...That’s how high the level is...”
“You saying jazz is below classical?”
As all the section members shrank back from Shuji’s outburst, a cold voice struck right at his heart.
“Someone who abandoned jazz sure talks a big game.”
“No!! Who said I abandoned jazz...”
Shuji, who had raised his voice in front of the juniors for the first time in a while, was instantly silenced by Heo Ok’s remark.
Everyone in the practice room quickly grasped the hierarchy.
With the pecking order established, Heo Ok finally raised her voice.
“Nice to meet you all, juniors. Looking around, I see some of my former students and even their students’ friends. Has the Japanese jazz scene gotten narrower than I thought?”
“Haha...”
The section members just laughed awkwardly at Heo Ok’s words.
Heo Ok had been out of the loop since retiring and going into seclusion, but it was said that the jazz world was ruled by the Toho line.
Around Uesugi Himari, people within five years older or younger were called Japan’s golden generation of jazz, most of them Toho University alumni.
And they had all studied under Heo Ok.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Japanese jazz was currently dominated by the Heo Ok lineage.
Of course, if they had clung together wielding power and abusing it, they’d be infamous—but that’s not why they were called the golden generation.
They did their best both in their own work and in nurturing the next generation, holding up the jazz scene by the scruff of its neck as its influence slowly waned.
In any case, unaware of all this postwar context, Heo Ok simply looked at them fondly before turning to Yeonwoo.
“Time to start practicing now?”
“No, instead of group practice right away, I figured we’d have everyone look over the scores and practice individually first, then reconvene. Um... about a day enough?”
Himari spoke up at Yeonwoo’s words.
“Yeonwoo, a day seems too tight. You need to give them at least three days.”
Yeonwoo looked puzzled at that.
From his perspective, they could pick it up after one listen, but he’d generously allotted a full day out of consideration.
“Yeonwoo, not everyone’s as quick as our grandson. Three days might still be pushing it for some.”
Only then did Yeonwoo nod in understanding at Heo Ok’s words.
“Then... [Three days—practice for three days and we’ll meet again!]”
The room buzzed at Yeonwoo’s announcement.
“[Too tough to memorize in three days, isn’t it?]”
“[He’s probably just telling us to memorize it, right?]”
“[Three days is plenty.]”
Sure enough, as Grandmother had said, some thought even three days was daunting.
Yeonwoo looked at the score he’d created.
Was it really that hard?
Shouldn’t this be standard?
He still tilted his head but let it go.
* * *
Three days later.
The members of the jazz orchestra Yeonwoo had gathered for Himari’s 20th anniversary assembled at the largest of her practice rooms in Fukuoka, located near Marina Street.
The area centered around a sewage treatment plant, surrounded by parks of all kinds. It wasn’t popular with tourists because of the plant, but with its sports facilities and parks, it was a spot Fukuoka locals frequented on weekends.
Yet it was also a quiet residential neighborhood on weekdays.
Himari’s practice room, in a somewhat secluded spot, offered a full view of the sea.
Himari had a hobby of setting up practice and work rooms near good food spots, but she hadn’t bought or built this building—with its garden—just because there were no famous eateries nearby. There was another reason.
“Yeonwoo, let’s have a barbecue party together after practice today. Sound good?”
“Wow, really?”
“Yeah, I already told them, and everything’s prepared.”
“I hope we do well and enjoy it.”
Yeonwoo said that and surveyed the practice room.
He could see the members setting up their instruments.
“But, Aunt, don’t you need to practice too?”
“I’ll be practicing upstairs on the second floor anyway.”
“Oh, there’s a practice room up there too.”
“Alright, see you later. Don’t be too harsh! They’re all skilled, after all.”
“Yeah.”
Yeonwoo nodded and watched Himari head up for a moment before turning back to the assembled members.
People unpacking and preparing their instruments—and above them, blue fairies flying around excitedly.
‘You guys excited because it’s a big band for once?’
Assembling a jazz orchestra wasn’t easy.
The biggest hurdle was cost. There weren’t many places that could afford to hire and maintain one long-term.
Maybe late-night broadcast programs dealing with genre music?
Even those had scaled back or disappeared as interest in genre music and late-night shows dwindled.
In Europe and America, things were more stable—some German broadcasters had them programmed alongside symphony orchestras and choirs, and high-level U.S. military units maintained them.
But gathering people of this caliber in such an orchestra? Absolutely impossible.
The fairies born from their music were thrilled to play something different from the usual.
Yeonwoo felt the same.
Putting them all together to create one piece of music—it was more exciting than he’d expected.
“Yeonwoo, looks like everyone’s ready.”
Shuji spoke up from behind in his usual heavy tone. Unlike before, he hadn’t returned to Tokyo.
Yeonwoo turned around.
Shuji and Heo Ok stood there solidly, ready to support him.
Yeonwoo nodded to them and said,
“Hello, this is Yuin.”
The members applauded in unison at Yeonwoo’s words.
“It’s an honor to make music together like this. Um... and... uh... shall we get started?”
Adults tended to give long speeches at the start of things like this, but with nothing coming to mind, Yeonwoo just suggested jumping right in.
A smile tugged at the members’ lips as Yeonwoo sat at the synth setup.
“When I start, just follow the score.”
With that, Yeonwoo pressed the keys.
A bright, spring-heralding electronic tone stretched out long.
The moment Yeonwoo hit the next key, a sharp crash—Takeo struck the cymbals and joined in.
Piano and keyboard, guitar, bass built the rhythm next, and finally, the horn section blew their instruments in unison.
It was the first time Himari’s spring-symbolizing Renkyo and Forsythia, rearranged through Yeonwoo’s hands, were played live by people instead of a computer.
‘Hmm...’
About ten seconds in.
Yeonwoo’s sharp gaze—identical to his grandmother’s—came alive.
Like a hawk, his eyes fixed on someone.
Since everyone was watching Yeonwoo, the center and de facto conductor of the piece, the target met his gaze.
The startled one was Hashimoto Atsushi on piano, who was supposed to enter last.
Yeonwoo mouthed to Atsushi.
‘[Late!]’
His timing was off.
‘Whoa...’
Hashimoto Atsushi felt a chill down his spine at Yeonwoo’s unusually sharp gaze.
Last time, it had been his talent that shocked him—but this time, it was the charisma Yeonwoo exuded in the music.
At just eight years old, Yeonwoo’s authority in music, built from his accomplishments, was enough to stun even a rising star like Atsushi.
Amid this, Yeonwoo’s eyes darted to one person after another.
Zeroing in on those who were off or didn’t please him.
They flinched at his gaze and played more cautiously.
By the end of Forsythia.
Everyone held their breath, staring at the fearsome Yeonwoo.
“This is our first time syncing up... but those who met my eyes—do you know why I looked at you?”
Those who had received his gaze stared back like mutes who’d eaten honey.
“I’ll assume you do. Let’s play it once more, and after that, I’ll stop here and there to correct as we go.”
Atsushi and the others shouted “Yes!!” in loud voices.
Even those oblivious to the mood startled and echoed them.
Watching this, Heo Ok smiled inwardly.
‘Our grandson’s doing great.’
Yeonwoo had seized control with sheer presence, imprinting that he was the conductor here. It was nothing short of heartwarming.
“Hey, Jade. Doesn’t your grandson look just like you when you were called the Queen? Takes my breath away.”
“...Shut up, old man.”
Of course, it warmed her heart even more because he resembled her.