Yuugo Ichihara was an incredible performer. He played in an instrumental band without vocals. Occasionally, the guitarist would shout out something, but it seemed more like he was just caught up in the mood and couldn’t help himself. Otherwise, there were no lyrics and no voice to shape the melody.
The guitar usually led the song, but sometimes the keyboard would take over, or the bass would go wild by itself. There was a strange heat to the performance. I didn’t really listen to music that much, and when my mom watched music shows on TV it was always J-Pop, so an instrumental performance like this felt fresh and exciting.
Even through earphones, Yuugo Ichihara’s bass was so powerful and full of passion that I could feel it resonating inside my body. When he wasn’t the main focus of the music, he supported the other instruments, but he never stopped asserting his presence.
His playing is like the ocean, I thought. The ocean was always there, stormy and tumultuous at times, at others still and quiet, holding countless creatures within its depths.
His performance was passionate and all-embracing……but something about it bothered me.
As heartfelt as the music was, it was also painful. I felt like I was being hit by a wave of indescribable emotions. It was as though energy was bursting forth from the music, moving me and making my chest constrict.
What is this feeling?
I’d started listening with the hope of understanding Nagoshi better, but before I knew it, I was watching one video after another, my body swaying to the music. The more I listened, the more my chest tightened. And yet, I wanted to keep going.
As I gave into that strange sensation and listened to all sorts of songs, I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder and jolted in my seat.
“Whoa!”
“You don’t have to be so startled,” Kaoru said, so surprised by my reaction that she jerked her hand away. She must’ve come in without me noticing. “I called out to you a bunch of times. Just how high do you have the volume turned up on that?”
“Sorry…” I’d gotten so absorbed in the performance that I kept turning up the volume. But if I hadn’t heard the door close, I must have turned it up way too high.
“It’s not like you to have your phone out at school, Yuzu.”
“Yeah, sorry…”
“I’m not trying to scold you,” she laughed, then leaned over and narrowed her eyes at the smartphone inside my bag. She was reading the title of the video. “Oh, Stray Fish. They’re amazing, huh?”
Kaoru nodded and slipped past me, plopping down on the sofa like always.
Stray Fish was Yuugo Ichihara’s band. I was surprised Kaoru was familiar with it.
“Oh, you know them?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. They’re famous. Didn’t you know that?”
“I didn’t know they existed until Sousuke told me about Yuugo Ichihara.”
“Oh yeah, you don’t watch TV, do you?”
“Not really.”
“I guess that makes sense, then.” Kaoru dropped her bag onto the sofa and looked at me. “It’s a shame they broke up, though. They were all incredible musicians.”
“…Yeah.”
“Yuugo Ichihara killed Ecchan—Oh, I mean Etsuko Sajima—and that was it. I think it happened when I was in junior high.”
“Who’s Etsuko Saijma?”
“Huh? Weren’t you just watching their videos?” Kaoru frowned skeptically. “She was Stray Fish’s drummer.”
“Oh, uh…” I played the video again, not bothering to put in my earphones.
I could see a cheerful-looking woman playing the drums. She had on a black tank top and seemed to be really enjoying herself.
Now that I’d started playing the drums, I could tell how amazing her technique was. She swung the drumsticks lightly, but her sound was powerful. She wasn’t relying on brute force either—she had a lively, smooth sound. It seemed to roll and bounce, like a child’s laugh.
She’s…dead? Even though I’d never met her, I felt an indescribable feeling of loss. She looked so happy in the video.
“It was all over the news when it happened. They were dating, so there were all sorts of speculations being thrown around. It was pretty awful,” Kaoru said, laughing bitterly. “I can remember it now, but if you hadn’t been watching that video, I never would have thought about it. It’s kind of sad, forgetting a band you used to listen to, huh?” There was a hint of sorrow in her voice.
Stray Fish must have been a pretty big deal for people who loved music. Just watching a few videos made that clear to me. I’d never listened to them before, and their music had still managed to lift my spirits. I could only imagine what it must have been like for those following them in real time and going to all their concerts back in the day.
But then, the drummer, Sajima, was murdered and Ichihara was arrested. Two core members were gone, and the band ceased to exist.
Their fans must have felt an incredible sense of loss. Even I could understand that now. The truth felt so heavy, but it also didn’t feel real, which only made it more terrifying.
“I can’t believe you’re so into music now you’re breaking school rules just to listen to it,” Kaoru teased. “Seems like you’re enjoying our band more than you expected.” She was clearly making fun of me, but I couldn’t bring myself to joke back. After all, she was completely right.
“Well…it’s fun to do something new with people you like. Don’t you think?”
Kaoru fiddled with her hair bashfully. “Yeah, I guess so.” She nodded vaguely and then fell silent.
Despite the noise of the sports clubs drifting in from outside, the club room felt unusually quiet. Maybe it was because I’d been listening to all that intense music just now.
“By the way,” Kaoru said, as if she’d just thought of it. “Is Yushima going to play bass for us after all?”
“Yeah, he’ll be playing during the festival.”
“Hm.” Kaoru made a noise I couldn’t quite decipher and then nodded. “So then, Nagoshi won’t be playing?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. The other members of the band didn’t know that Sousuke would be playing a third song and asking Nagoshi to join him on stage.
“…I don’t know.”
That was the only answer I could give her. I didn’t know for sure if Sousuke’s plan would work, so I wasn’t technically lying.
“I see. That’s too bad,” she said. Her answer surprised me. I hadn’t realized that Kaoru wanted Nagoshi to play, too.
“Did you want her to?” I asked.
Kaoru tilted her head, an impassive expression on her face. “I don’t know that I wanted her to, but… Hmmm… I guess I thought her real feelings might come out through her music…” She trailed off into a murmur. “I was kinda looking forward to it.”
My gaze dropped to my phone. I’d forgotten to stop the video and Stray Fish was still performing.
I definitely got the feeling Yuugo Ichihara was expressing various emotions through his music. Sometimes they seemed scattered and turbulent. Other times he played quietly, like he was locking his feelings up inside.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in hearing Nagoshi play. If, like Kaoru said, she expressed her emotions through music instead of words…what would her bass say to us?
I was sure that was what Sousuke wanted to hear.