The next day after school, we had our rare practice session in the light music clubroom. We were playing the intro of “Monochrome,” when Yamano abruptly stopped drumming.
“Shinohara-senpai, you’re making mistakes,” she said.
“Oh, sorry,” he replied.
It was an exchange I’d witnessed many times, but today was different.
“Apologizing is great and all, but...how many times are you going to make the same mistake?”
The temperature in the room suddenly plummeted.
Yamano’s frigid gaze was fixed on Mei. “We’re going to appear in the festival at that music club, right? Didn’t you go on about taking the band seriously? Then the least you could do is fix this stuff when you practice on your own time.”
“Y-You didn’t need to say it like that,” Mei replied, offended.
She didn’t need to bite his head off over a small mistake. Then again, she has been pointing out the same thing to Mei a lot lately. It’s true he hasn’t fixed it.
“Saya, you went too far,” Serika chided.
However, Yamano shot back in a sharp tone, “Serika-senpai, you’re too soft. The band won’t improve if you’re like that.” She believed she was right; her eyes said it all.
“No, I’m...” Serika trailed off. Perhaps it had struck a chord.
Well... I know Serika is really mindful when she teaches us. She’s reserved because of her previous experiences in a band.
“We only have four more days until the fest. We can’t be taking our sweet time.”
Mei didn’t say anything, but he wore unconcealed discontent. However, we knew that Yamano wasn’t wrong. None of us wanted to show up to the fest in our current state. For all that, we were starting to panic because we were running out of time.
“Let’s continue,” Yamano said.
We all remained on edge for the rest of practice. Honestly, I found it suffocating.
“Uh... So, did anyone think of a band name?” When we’d finished, Serika changed the topic in a blatant show of consideration, which was kinda wild coming from her. It made plain just how bad the atmosphere in our band had gotten. Sparks were flying between Mei and Yamano. “To be honest, I couldn’t think of anything.”
“I did some brainstorming, but same here,” I said.
“I got nothing either,” Yamano said.
“Sorry,” Mei added, “I drew a blank as well.”
Sadly, no one had thought of a name, not a single suggestion. Listen, I’ve been thinking about it, okay? But the light bulb just isn’t going off... I mean, Iwano-senpai is the one who came up with Mishle. Maybe none of us have a knack for naming things.
It was so quiet that anyone walking in would’ve found it hard to believe that we were the light music club. The mood was so heavy in here that, in a panic, Serika said, “I-It’s okay! We can just be Mishle (temp) this time! Let’s wrap up for the day,” and clapped her hands.
Okay, something is clearly up with Serika. She’s caring way too much about the mood—she’s acting like a normal human being (pardon the rude phrasing). The Hondo Serika I know is a free spirit who decisively calls the shots.
“Serika, are you okay?” I whispered.
“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.” Her shoulders trembled with a start.
I glanced at Mei and Yamano, who were cleaning up in silence. “We should do something about them,” I said.
There was the slightest pause before she replied, “Yeah. It might be bad if this keeps up.”
“Serika, you know, you’re also acting kinda weird.”
“I know, but I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.”
There has never been a case where someone who insists they’re fine is actually fine. Welp, the mood is definitely bothering Serika, so getting those two to reconcile comes first.
“I’ll talk to Yamano,” I said.
She’s never been one to mince words, but it’s been markedly more obtrusive these days. Maybe that’s the natural next step when we all said we’d take the band seriously, though. And maybe becoming a high schooler has played a part in her attitude change.
“Okay... Please do, Natsuki,” Serika replied.
I had never heard her so feeble before.
✦ ✦ ✦
As usual, it was just me and Yamano on the train back home. Though she had worn a deep frown the entire time, not letting out so much as a peep, she suddenly muttered, “I meant to say things nicely in the beginning. But he wasn’t improving no matter how many times I told him to fix it, so of course I’d get harsher.”
“Well, Mei’s trying his best,” I said.
I’d been attempting to pacify her, but it only aggravated her more.
“Trying his best? Does someone really repeat the same mistakes that many times if they’re trying their best?”
“Happens to me,” I said, puffing up with pride.
“Why’re you bragging about that?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t believe it, though. Frankly, he doesn’t look like he’s trying his best to me.”
“Are you that upset with Mei?”
“He’s inexperienced, no way around that when it comes to skills. But if that were the problem, then you’re way worse.”
Her words stabbed me like a knife. I know I’m the weakest link, okay?!
“But you’re practicing like mad, aren’t you?” she said. “You’re actually improving by leaps and bounds.”
“Well, yeah... I’m the one who decided I’d give this a serious shot, after all.” I’ve got to own up to the claim. That aside... I’m thrilled she praised me! Breaking my back to practice at home was worth it.
“But compared to you, Shinohara-senpai isn’t improving. It’s almost the big day, and he’s still making tons of mistakes,” Yamano said.
“That’s...true.” I couldn’t refute that. Fact of the matter was, Mei had been making a lot of mistakes.
“If you’re serious about the band, then you should be getting more angry.”
Yamano was right, which was why I couldn’t say anything in response.
✦ ✦ ✦
Three days until the music fest.
Compared to the other bands who’d be there, our allotted time was far shorter. Hence, we would only be playing three songs. The plan was to play the same ones we had performed at the school festival: “Black Witch,” “Monochrome,” and “To the Star.” In the first place, we only had three original songs. Ultimately, we were being treated as a curtain-raiser, but it didn’t change the fact that this was going to be a big moment for us.
Rumors had spread that the light music club would be appearing at the music fest, so a lot of students were coming to cheer for us. Since we only had three days left, the club president was even giving up their practice slot in the second music room, telling us, “Practice to your hearts’ desire.”
We were the only group that had broken the confines of the club and formed our band outside of school. We bore the responsibility of being the only representatives of Ryomei High School’s light music club. With that pressure on our backs, we threw ourselves into practice with even greater zeal.
“Stop for a sec.” Yamano put her hand up right when we finished playing the bridge of “Black Witch.” Her sharp gaze was directed at me. “Senpai. Please keep in time properly. Why am I even smacking my drums if you’re going to play like that? If you can’t match my rhythm during practice, then you’ll definitely speed up during the real thing.” Her tone was prosaic, but her brow was furrowed.
A beat passed. “Sorry,” I said. I didn’t have the time to worry about Yamano. My hands were full just dealing with my own problems.
“I want to play from the bridge again. Please concentrate,” she said, clearly annoyed.
I’m sorry I have no sense of rhythm...
“Hey.”
I was meekly reflecting on my mistake, when Mei spoke up.
“Do you really need to word it like that?” His tone was awfully rigid.
“We only have three days left—how else am I supposed to word it? We’re going to be screwed if we can’t pull it together,” Yamano rebutted.
“I understand the logic, but Natsuki is your upperclassman.”
“If we can’t say what needs to be said just because someone’s older than us, then we’ll never be able to make good music.”
They were going tit for tat, and their discussion was heating up.
“I’m saying you should watch how you phrase things!” he shouted.
Silence blanketed the room. Mei scarcely ever raised his voice to such an extent. When Yamano had pointed out his slipups yesterday, he had quietly taken it.
“I don’t care how you say things to me, but I don’t like the way you treat Natsuki,” he said.
Meanwhile, Serika stood stock-still, anxiety written all over her face.
“If this is what being serious means to this band, then I won’t have a part in it,” Mei said.
Nevertheless, Yamano didn’t budge. “Yeah? Well from my perspective, you don’t seem to be particularly serious about this.”
Mei and Yamano glared at each other. The atmosphere was stormy.
Welp... It looks like the exact thing I worried would happen has happened.