Three songs went by in a flash. We vacated the stage as the audience politely applauded for us. Our performance wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be. Though we had made several mistakes, we still managed to see things through until the very end. Once the music had begun, the audience also got pumped up, to an extent.
“They were just the opener, after all.”
“They’re still high schoolers, right? They did a good job.”
“Not bad. I’m looking forward to seeing more of them.”
Yes, that’s right—to an extent.
We returned backstage, passing by Maruido, who were on their way up after us. The atmosphere was ineffably awkward. It wasn’t like we had made a fatal mistake, but we couldn’t say that it had been the best performance ever. After all, the world hadn’t changed whatsoever.
“First off, good job up there,” Serika said impassively as she wiped her sweat off with a towel.
Mei lowered his head, crestfallen. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
Yamano looked like she had something to say to him, but ultimately averted her eyes.
“Saya,” Serika said. “If there’s something you want to say, then say it.” She seemed to have made up her mind after our conversation yesterday.
“What? Right now? We just finished, so it can wait until later...” Yamano said, blindsided.
But Serika pressed on. “It’s better to review our performance while it’s still fresh on our minds.”
Yamano gave me a dismayed glance. That tiny gesture said everything. She was relying on me for her code of conduct.
“Sorry, Yamano. I was wrong,” I said.
“Huh?” Surprise colored her face.
The first thing I had to do was apologize to her. I need to properly amend my mistakes. My eyes locked with hers, and I proceeded to contradict what I’d told her the other day. “It’s better to say what needs to be said.” That was the conclusion I had reached after my talk with Serika yesterday.
Mei knitted his brow in bewilderment. “What are you all talking about?”
Yamano fell silent for a brief moment, and then she turned her gaze on Mei. “Feeling nervous is inevitable, but you should stick to what we practiced.”
For the record, I had been desperately trying to keep it together onstage, so I didn’t know what she was referring to. However, Yamano and Serika were on the same page about something, and they were staring straight at Mei.
Serika followed up after her. “During the final verse of ‘Black Witch’...you simplified the bass line, didn’t you?”
Now that she mentions it, I think he did.
“Well, that’s how I played it during the school festival. I didn’t want to mess up.” He was guilty as charged. His gaze roamed the room, looking everywhere but at us.
“If you’re not going to bring out all the progress you made during practice, then what was the point of practicing in the first place?” Yamano pointed out.
The issue with trimming the bass line is that it becomes monotonous. It would sound hollow and diminish the groove. Basically, that part loses its impact. It’s honestly such a minor thing, but I think being serious means valuing every little detail. Though giving it every fiber of your being is difficult, if we make compromises, we won’t be able to change the world.
“Didn’t you practice hard so you wouldn’t mess up?” Yamano was seething with rage. Now that I’d given her the green light, all the emotions she’d suppressed sprang forth. “Serika-senpai altered the song because you said you’d take this seriously, remember? Each of our parts got harder, but it would add depth to our music and sound more hype in return!”
Yamano’s exactly right. During last year’s school festival, my part was composed of only simple power chords, but now it’s become fairly difficult. That’s why I spent all that time practicing like crazy so I could play it.
Yamano’s tone was rather harsh, but Serika made no attempt to subdue her; instead, she agreed.
“I feel the same. I know I’m demanding something hard from you. But Saya pointed out the same part over and over. I think you’ve had plenty of opportunities to fix it.”
Mei, being one-sidedly attacked, took a step back.
“Besides, it’s okay to make mistakes,” Yamano added. “But why aren’t you challenging yourself? It’s weird!” From beginning to end, everything she’d said was a sound argument. I hadn’t realized any of this, and I felt like I had no right to take either side. I was just a wallflower.
Mei hung his head, unable to get a word in. I felt bad, but I found it hard to defend him. After all, he had done something that warranted reprimanding.
He remained silent for a while until, finally, he turned his back to us as if he were fleeing. “I’m sorry. I’m going to step outside for some fresh air.”
“You probably didn’t feel confident because you didn’t practice enough,” Yamano called out after him as he plodded away. She then delivered the final blow. “Shinohara-senpai, your ‘serious’ was all talk.”
W-Waaait... Hold it right there. You’re right. You are right, but...there’s a better way to phrase it! I glanced at Serika. Her arms were crossed, and she seemed somewhat uneasy. But I’m the one who spurred Yamano on, so the onus is on me, huh?
Yamano’s piercing gaze turned to me. “Senpai, you’re also no good at all. Your voice was unstable just because you got a little wound up,” she pointed out.
I grunted in pain. “Yes, I’m aware.” Giving something your all doesn’t necessarily mean the result will be good.
“Serika-senpai, you were so dependable out there!” Yamano praised.
“Yeah, you were good too. Saya, your drumming packs a punch.”
“Thanks. Then again, it’s because I practiced like hell. I repeated the same part over and over.”
As Serika had said, Yamano’s drums had guided us. Compared to Mei and me who had trepidly dragged our feet, Serika and Yamano had remained calm.
“This is the extent of our abilities,” Serika said. Her expression hadn’t changed one bit because she had long accepted it. “We just happened to perform better than expected during the school festival, but miracles don’t happen every time.”
I thought I knew that. But subconsciously, I thought I’d do better during the actual thing.
Serika thrust the obvious reality into my face. “It’s impossible to produce better results than what you practice. If you don’t practice more seriously, you’ll never be able to change the world with your music. As we are now, we can only put on mediocre concerts.”