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Everyone else had filtered out of the room, and Taki was putting away the last of her things. Umiri caught a glimpse of the gadget in her backpack as she was zipping it up.
An opportunity.
"Shiina-san, I didn't know you could play the piano."
"Eh? Oh, this? It's just a MIDI controller...I use it to compose, not really 'perform'."
"Battery powered?"
Umiri takes a long sip from her boxed chocolate drink, before setting it off to the side. She kneels down, unlocking her case.
"Y...Yeah. Why do you ask?"
"Could you please help me tune?"
Taki's face takes on a bewildered expression. Umiri enjoyed each of her reactions thoroughly, she found it fascinating how someone could emote that much. Of course, she takes only a glance to satisfy herself before she finishes freeing her bass.
"Umiri, you're like...the most experienced bassist- no, actually just the most experienced musician I know. You could probably tune to my drums!"
"Mhm. And?" Umiri hums, the slightest tinge of amusement- faint pride, hiding an invisible loneliness- in her voice, tilting her head slightly and looking into the other's eyes.
"And...ugh. Whatever. Sure." Taki hurriedly places the small keyboard on the table and flicks it on, seemingly flustered by the direct eye contact. Cute.
She strums the first string open, letting out a deep, low note.
"What the...Jeez, Umiri, why do you have it tuned that low?"
"Convenience, mostly. And versatility. I am...well..." Though she wouldn't notice, Umiri looked mildly aloof yet content. Taki notices. "Was, a sessionist. Old habits die hard. I've only recently been truly a 'part' of Ave Mujica, after all." she hums, tweaking the string's peg some. Thanks to you, she adds mentally.
Taki shakes her head in an ostensible display of disapproval, perhaps even disappointment, but both of them know what she meant couldn't be farther from either of those things. She plays the B key. Umiri strums as she tunes to match.
"...Ave Mujica uses standard tuning, right?"
"Mhm."
"Ha? So you're saying you've played on stage. With Ave Mujica, and a dropped tuning." There was admiration in Taki's voice, albeit Umiri couldn't tell if it was genuine or in a 'are you stupid' way.
"Old habits die hard." she repeats, although Umiri knows this wasn't entirely true. This won't last, her own words resound in her head.
I already knew it was going to end this way.
...Umiri, were you really ever a part of Ave Mujica?
No matter how much she denied it now, she knew, more than anyone, how much doubt her heart once held for the future of Ave Mujica.
That fateful exchange gave her pause, and if she had to assume, it reflected on her face based on Taki's concerned gaze.
Under normal circumstances, both of them would have already gone home by now. Still, they understood each other in ways none other could replicate.
Umiri finds some solace in how her plea for companionship had reached its mark, and regret in how she was as bad with her thoughts as she was with her words. This was all this was, after all. A pretense for a conversation with a kindred spirit, like their chocolate drinking breaks at the vending machines behind the school.
That was all.
Taki gracefully saves her from her thoughts by playing the E key, and Umiri strums and tunes in turn.
"I've never seen you cry like that before, Shiina-san. When you were practicing with Togawa-san and Wakaba-san."
"Yeah? I cried, got a problem with that?"
"No, it's just..." I was envious. "...an observation."
"Wait- you were there and you didn't say anything?" Taki almost leapt up from her seat, multitudes of realizations setting in, and not enough time to process them.
"Sorry. I was caught up in...other things."She hoped she didn't have to elaborate, especially when name-dropping her band members was already too much information than she intended to share.
"...Haah..." Taki sighs into her palm. "You saw something you shouldn't have, is that it...well, it ended well enough, didn't it?" She settles back into her seat with a nervous chuckle.
"I suppose..."
"...You know, it's getting pretty late already. Sure you can't tune the rest yourself with relative pitch?"
"I...don't want to."
"Huh?"
"I don't want to." Umiri repeats, fully staring at Taki. The look in her blue eyes was resolute, defiant, one that refused to be ignored- and, as Taki suspected, strikingly similar to the look she had when she lashed out at her that one fateful evening, where all ten of MyGO!!!!! and Ave Mujica gathered. When she first saw her friend, once upon a time so difficult to read, with tears streaming down her cheeks, when she first heard her friend act with so much anger at the drummer's attempt to pull her from someplace that was clearly unhealthy to dwell in.
Taki sighs in resignation. "Fine. Suit yourself." Taki could've sworn she heard Umiri utter gratitude beneath her breath, but surely not. It was time for the third string, she thinks, as she presses down on the keyboard.
A sour note resounds as her finger slips onto a minor key.
"Crap." Taki quickly remedies this, properly striking the A key this time.
Neither of them were perfect- and these were, until recently, secrets that they would have taken to their graves. They weren't invincible, nor were they special...they were ordinary, and this truth was, for the longest time, the most well kept secret between them, until they found their places.
For Taki, Umiri thought, this was liberating.
For herself, it was that, as well as terrifying.
The bassist, in contrast, makes no such mistake in tuning her instrument. She makes no comment on the mistake, a common mercy from the sessionist who’s seen and worked with much worse. Tongue stilled, yet her eyes told Taki everything she needed to know.
"Told you I don't play the piano. Honestly, it's kinda intimidating playing the keyboard anywhere but back home."
"Why's that? There's only the two of us here." A rhetorical question both of them knew the answer to already, and yet they continue this precarious dance regardless. Whereas Taki could be blunt, Umiri tended to border on insensitivity.
"That's exactly it. I'm no Sakiko, Umiri." Even still, she always was more direct with her thoughts, and evidently far braver, acknowledging the core of her insecurity, laying it bare for Umiri to see. It wasn't that Taki trusted Umiri more, or that Umiri trusted Taki less...
The truth was just that they were both scared, and Taki was simply stronger.
Umiri wonders if she wants that strength for herself- or if she wants Taki's strength for herself. She ponders, should she visit and personally thank Takamatsu-san for the undeniable good she has done to her most valuable friend?
This feeling of loneliness that churned inside her tells her all she needs to know- that it would be best for her and the soulful vocalist to remain nothing more than acquaintances.
Yes, that's right. She and Taki were kindred spirits, and nothing more than that.
If only they could stay like this for longer...but, there were only two strings remaining. How cruel, how fitting, much like how her 'solution' to fears of abandonment was to throw herself into detached, professional work, the additional fifth string on her bass would only delay the inevitable.
"I would visit Togawa-san if I wished for Togawa-san." she says, perhaps a bit more forceful than she intended, meeting Taki's boldness with her pale imitation. How she wished for the bite of ginger ale. Perhaps she would be able to expel the pit in her throat that swallowed all of her words and threatened to swallow her voice entirely.
Taki meets her trepid gaze with one of unfair, cruel, kindness. Don't look at me like that. Please.
"Is that what this is about, Umiri?" A gentle smile. One that she'd never seen before, aimed at the core of her soul, and yet, not the gentlest she's seen from Taki. That honor, that kindness, that love was reserved for someone else, as Umiri's unfortunate voyeurism had shown her.
Pitiful how a taste of sincerity, of affection, was all it took for Umiri's greed to burgeon into something so…
"C'mon, you have my number, you know where I work, pretty sure you know my routines, too. You could just ask any time you wanted to hang out..."
Irrepressible. Beastly. Possessive. All the things that Umiri was, but was too afraid to act on. Surely that was just the repression of simple desires distorting into something monstrous, right?
At least...we can still talk like this.
She bargains with her sanity, with the very words she hears.
It isn't enough.
But it will have to be.
"...Umiri? Hello? You. uh, there?" Taki snaps her fingers in front of the grimacing bassist.
Umiri shakes her head rapidly, shaking off the mental sludge that had so rapidly overtaken her.
"I'm here." she says, the mask of indifference now squarely back on her face.
"You sure? You kinda looked like you were…” Taki pauses. “...having indigestion." It comforted Umiri some, knowing that she wasn't the only one who couldn't be honest about their thoughts regarding the other. Taki had made progress, but...clearly, Umiri still had time to catch up.
She won't be left. She can't.
"I didn't eat enough this morning." In other news, the sky was cloudy, and Taki and Umiri were classmates.
"Y...Yeah, that much's clear. Seriously. Aren't you worried about passing out on stage one of these days? Especially with how much you've been moving in your recent performances."
"I'm confident I could still perform." Umiri smiles, taking rare pride in her energy onstage, although it was a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"Right..." Taki almost rolls her eyes. If she can joke like that, she'll be fine.
Time waits for no one, and so Taki moves on to the next key, and the keyboard's speakers soon emit a D note.
This time, however, Umiri doesn't immediately tune her string, evidently captivated by the rapidly setting sun, gently dipping into the cloudy sky.
"Oi, Umiri..."
The bassist had her back turned toward Taki as she looked out the window. No response, and the air was so still that she could probably hear her own breath if it stagnated any longer.
"Umiri!"
"Ah- sorry, Shiina-san." she responds, blankly. Not in her tone of usual detachment, which was mildly concerning. Taki didn't know it was possible for her friend to sound even more deadpan than she usually did.
"What are you staring out there for anyway? We don't have all evening for this, you know! Seriously, get your act together..."
"It's going to rain." Umiri turns back to face Taki, a deep sadness in her blue eyes that revealed so much more than even the bassist herself knew. Internalized and accepted, invisible to most, clear and reflective liquid sorrow.
"Well- isn't that more reason to hurry up?" Taki taps the desk rhythmically, as if counting down the seconds Umiri was stalling.
"I suppose." She lets her bass hang from its strap- Umiri was stronger than she appeared, an instrument larger than her didn't impede her movement whatsoever as she picks up her box of now lukewarm liquid chocolate with one hand to finish it while she tunes her fourth string with one hand- driven more by instinct and routine than Taki's input.
Taki already knew Umiri didn't need her for something as elementary as tuning. She knew better than anyone the particular kind of weight the bassist shouldered. Still, this was troubling. She briefly ponders prying.
Should I say something...?
Before Taki could decide on a course of action, Umiri strummed the fourth string, almost perfectly tuned even though both of them knew Umiri wasn't paying attention to Taki's keyboard earlier.
"Let's wrap this up, Shiina-san."
Taki lets out a small chuckle.
"About time." Taki presses down on the G key, and like clockwork, Umiri fine tunes the string with pointed precision.
It wasn't serenity that washed over Umiri, neither was it defeat, nor anything particularly intense. Her feelings, either processed or swallowed or bottled, didn't matter. The clarity she now held felt real enough.
It wasn't exactly emptiness, either. Just the acknowledgement that she existed, that she valued Taki, and that Taki valued her. It didn't matter to what extent. What else could she do, how much more could she expect from the drummer, with her own will, with her own life?
After all, past the fame, the talent, the hard work and dedication, all of their struggles that went unknown…
They were just two dummies really, really bad with words.
And Umiri could, at the very least, accept that particular truth readily.
---
The silence that followed was uneasy yet comfortable. The two pack up their things, the soft time limit of the rain looming ever closer. Umiri almost felt a magnetic repulsion from the room with her growing desire to just...run out of there, but she steadies herself.
She slides the door open, preparing to say her goodbye with one foot out of the door.
"Hey, Umiri. Good work recently, with Ave Mujica."
It was maddening how so little could mean so much. The gentle undertones of her friend's blunt voice and even blunter statement caused her to freeze in her tracks.
"Y...Yeah, thanks. You too, Shiina-san." she croaks. Her voice may or may not have cracked. From her peripheral vision, she saw Taki's amusement..? Concern? Pity? Maybe she simply imagined it.
"I look forward to sharing the same stage with MyGO!!!!! more in the future." She had at least managed to rein in her voice for her parting words, and Taki mercifully lets her go without saying anything more.
The weather would turn soon after she left the school, cloudy, a light drizzle. Little to no risk of damage to her equipment, so she didn't need to sprint to the station.
She remembers her cheeks being wet long before the first drops of rain fell.