As we approached Nagoshi’s house, it seemed to get larger and larger. It was a three-story Western-style house with a big, closed shutter to the right of the entrance. I guessed that led into the garage.
Misuzu rang the doorbell without a hint of hesitation. After a few moments, Nagoshi appeared, still wearing her school uniform.
“Misuzu! Whoa, I wasn’t expecting you to bring these two!” Nagoshi seemed surprised to see Sousuke and me. Her eyes looked a little swollen, like she’d just woken up. “What a strange combo,” she said, tipping her head to the side.
Misuzu pointed to the garage. “Can we use the electronic drum set? Yuzuru wants to practice, but renting a studio every time would be too expensive.”
Nagoshi’s eyes widened. “Asada’s playing the drums? Ha-ha. You sure you can even hit them with those scrawny arms of yours?” She burst into laughter and stepped out of the house, giving me a playful smack on the arm. Then, she walked past us and raised the shutter with a clatter. “It hasn’t been used in ages, so it’s probably covered in dust. Make sure to clean it off before you start,” she said. Apparently, she didn’t mind if we used it.
“Are you sure?” I asked, just in case.
She quickly nodded. “Yeah. It’s better than just letting it sit there gathering dust.”
Her blasé attitude only worried me more.
“Just like that…? We’ll be coming over pretty regularly…”
“That’s fine. You can come every day if you want. It’s not like you’re gonna be in my room.” She froze for a moment. “You’re not allowed in my room, got it?”
“Of course! Obviously,” I replied.
“Then it’s fine. The garage is basically outside.” She laughed and headed inside, then turned on the lights. Warm overhead lighting filled the room.
It had an almost American feel to it. There was a counter with four tall, round bar stools that had the “Coca-Cola” logo printed on the seats, and the walls were covered with posters for movies and bands. In the very back of the room was a compact, electronic drum set.
“Wow,” I murmured.
Nagoshi snorted. “My dad’s the one who decorated it,” she explained. She ran her index finger along the rubber hi-hat of the drum set and grimaced at all the dust she’d picked up. “Yuck, it’s dirtier than I thought. Let me grab a bucket and a rag. Hold on.” She hurried back into the house.
“She agreed to that really easily,” I said.
Misuzu shot me a wry smile. “She doesn’t care much about anything. You don’t have to worry.”
“But she said her dad decorated the place. Are you sure we’re allowed in here without his permission?” I asked worriedly.
Misuzu looked puzzled for a moment. Then, she said softly, “Risa lives alone. So it’s fine.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Her parents aren’t around anymore.”
“Oh…” I nodded vaguely, unable to bring myself to pry any further.
I was shocked that she lived alone in such a huge house. The garage was like a secret hideout or something, and it seemed like no one had touched it in quite some time. It was clear that Nagoshi was full of mysteries I didn’t understand.
I looked at Sousuke and found he was staring silently at one part of the garage. I followed his gaze to a stand meant to hold a guitar or a bass, similar to the ones I’d seen at the studio earlier. But unlike those, this stand was empty, which only seemed to emphasize the fact that something was missing.
The sound of the door brought me back to the present.
Nagoshi had returned with a bucket of water and some rags. “Here, you can use this to clean up. Once you’re done, feel free to use the drums whenever you want. Misuzu, you can set them up.”
“Gotcha,” Misuzu replied, plugging in the electronic drum set.
I took the bucket and rags from Nagoshi and headed over to join her. Once I got closer, I could tell how dusty they were.
“All right, I’m going back inside. Make sure to close the garage door when you’re done.”
“Um!” Sousuke suddenly called out as Nagoshi turned to leave, stopping her in her tracks. There was an urgency in his voice that alarmed me.
“What is it?” she asked flatly.
He hesitated for a few moments and then seemed to make up his mind. “Um, we’re forming a band, so we can perform at the school festival’s after-party…”
“Oh. So that’s why Asada’s playing the drums. And?”
“Well… I was wondering if you’d…play the bass and—”
“Nope. Won’t do it,” she replied before Sousuke could even finish his sentence.
“What…?”
“Not gonna do it. Find someone else,” she said. Her tone was light, but somehow firm and intimidating. She waved at us dismissively and then left the garage.
Sousuke remained standing in a daze, staring after her.
“Sousuke, don’t tell me you were serious about that,” said Misuzu, walking up behind him. “There’s no way.”
He turned around and looked at her, frustrated. “Doesn’t it bother you that she doesn’t play anymore?”
Misuzu smiled bitterly. “Don’t take it out on me.”
“But…!”
“Of course I think it’s a shame,” she said, and I heard Sousuke’s breath catch in his throat. “But it’s her decision. There’s nothing we can do about it.” Then, she turned toward me and said calmly, “Sorry, but can you wipe down this part for me? It’s covered in dust.”
“Oh, right.” I quickly began cleaning the console.
Sousuke sighed and sat on a red bar stool, spinning the seat left and right with irritation.
I quietly focused on cleaning the drum set until I was done.
“All right,” Misuzu said. “It should be ready to play. Here, put on these headphones.”
She plugged them into the console and handed them to me before I got on the chair.
“Hit the snare like you did at the studio. You should be able to hear the sound through your headphones.”
I followed her instructions and heard the tat! sound in my ears. Oh, okay. I get it.
“This button here is the metronome. It’ll help you gauge the rhythm. You can adjust the BPM, or the speed of the beats, here.”
Misuzu explained the buttons and showed me how to use everything. Then, she told me to practice the four-beat and eight-beat patterns she’d taught me earlier.
“I can teach you more once you’ve gotten a little better. Give me your contact info.”
“My contact info?”
“Yeah, so I can send you assignments. If you practice one at a time, you should be decent by the end of summer vacation.”
“Oh, okay.”
I took out my smartphone and Misuzu held out hers. On the screen was a QR code for exchanging contact info via a messaging app. I scanned it, and the exchange was complete.
“All right,” she murmured. Then, she turned toward Sousuke, who was still absently spinning on the stool. “Sousuke.”
He jumped a little when she called his name. He must’ve been deep in thought. “Yeah?”
“What’re you gonna do about the bass? Finding someone else would be quicker.”
He shook his head, his expression dark. “I haven’t given up yet.” I could tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he was really determined.
Misuzu let out a deep sigh. “Well, I’m not gonna stop you. Worst-case scenario, I can lend you a member of the music club. I know someone who’s really good and can pick up songs quickly.”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to say no,” he said.
“I said worst-case scenario, didn’t I? …But like I said, I don’t think you have a chance with Risa.”
“I still don’t want to give up,” he insisted.
Misuzu was quiet for a few moments and then said, “Fine. Do whatever you want.” Then, she stretched. “Well, I’m going home. C’mon, Sousuke.” She started gathering up her things. Sousuke looked like he had more to say as he stood up from his chair.
“What about me?” I asked.
Misuzu glanced at me. “You keep practicing the four-beat and eight-beat patterns until you can’t think about anything else. After that, you can go home.”
“Wait, I can’t just stay here alone at Nagoshi’s house!”
“You’ll be fine. I doubt she’ll even come in here. Just message me if you have any questions.”
“But…!”
And with that, Misuzu left the garage.
Sousuke watched her leave, then came over to me. “If you get a chance to talk to Nagoshi, ask her for me,” he whispered.
“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”
“Oh! And if you see her cutting herself, try to stop her.”
“…Okay……”
“Well, see ya.” He lifted a hand, then jogged after Misuzu.
Once he’d disappeared, I sighed.
Despite what I’d told him, I didn’t feel comfortable trying to persuade Nagoshi to stop cutting or to play the bass. Like Misuzu said, if those were choices she’d made for herself, it wasn’t any of my business. I knew nothing about her life.
“Time to practice.”
There was no sense in worrying about things I had no control over, and since they’d both left without me, I had no choice but to keep playing.
I picked up the drumsticks and started hitting the drums. It felt a bit weird hearing the sound directly in my ears, but thanks to the metronome, it was easier to tell when my rhythm was off.
For the rest of the afternoon, I dedicated myself to practicing on the electronic drum set.