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It's been an entirely unremarkable day for Taki Shiina; changing out of her RiNG uniform, there wasn't much going through her head. Sure, she was restless from band activities slowing down (she knows Soyo has to keep up appearances, but she didn't expect Anon and Tomori to be as studious as they are), but all she had left to do was... go home and sleep.
She basically had the rest of the day for herself!
Until a text came.
That wasn't the weird part. Anon was always blowing up the band's group chat over one thing or another. Soyo's texts were almost routine at this point— 'Have you tried the X I gave you during Y? ', or 'Go to sleep already'. Somehow, their bassist always knew when she was burning the midnight oil.
No, the weird part this time was the sender. Umiri Yahata.
Her last text conversation with the girl consisted of nothing more than an apology for accidentally calling her.
(Sorry. Butt dial)
(A voluptuous one, are we?)
(You're one to talk)
(Please elaborate.)
That was over a month ago. They never talk. The time they spent together in the classroom was more than enough. It was an unspoken rule!
So why is Umiri sending her a pin on Goolu goolu Maps and a single message asking for help?!
A billion things run through her mind. Before she knows it, her feet are hitting the pavement— left, right, left, right following the path the app laid out for her. She should call someone, right? Why did Umiri call her? There's no way she's that girl's emergency contact, so why? Was she just the closest? There's no way Umiri could've known that, though...
Just under two kilometers. She can make it. She has to. She will.
She should call the police. Hah! She would laugh if she weren't so out of breath already. Since when has the police ever done anything?
Who else can help? Who else knows Umiri within her circle? No one. But if it's for an emergency like this, it shouldn't matter, right? Who doesn't she mind owing?
Light's green. She's running through a crowd again, and for some godforsaken reason, it starts to rain. When’d it get so dark anyway? It must have slipped her mind since her shifts often ran late. Rain’s always setting the stage for her goodbyes, huh? God. She really, really wants to laugh.
At least she didn’t need to worry about bumping into people now. Some Moses she is.
She’s drenched when she reaches a park. One of them. Who knows at this point? Her phone says 200m away, so she dashes towards whatever direction the arrow’s facing. Run. Just run.
She panics when the app closes down, but she reads the little blurb saying destination reached. Taki barely has the power to stand, even walk, but she’s looking around and shouting–
“Umiri!”
Her voice is pure desperation. She wheezes– god, she needs to exercise more. There’s barely air in her lungs, but again, she screams out–
“Umiri~!”
“ Taki-san? ”
A small voice, its low tones almost drowned out by the rain. Almost.
She looks around frantically, but the rain makes a mosaic of her vision. Or were those tears? She doesn’t really know. Umiri’s clothes should stand out amidst all the green, but–
“Taki-san! ”
There! Under a gazebo, she spots her damn classmate! She surges towards her with stamina she didn’t know she still had.
Umiri tilts her head, then she takes a step back. “Wait.” She whispered.
Taki throws herself at the bassist. Umiri yelps from her tailbone, hitting the table.
“T-Taki-san. You’re wet.”
“No shit!” Taki grabs her by the shoulder and scans her head to toe. “You! Are you okay?!”
The bassist blinks. “Why, yes. Should I not be?”
Taki’s still looking for a scratch, something missing. “I don’t know! You asked for help!”
“Indeed. Did you bring an umbrella?"
“What?”
“It’s raining.”
Taki gives her an icy glare.
“Running in these heels would prove to be a challenge.” Umiri continued, ignoring her. “So I thought I’d ask someone to fetch me.”
The rain kept drumming around them, and Taki chose to stay silent.
“Taki-san?”
“So you weren’t in any danger?” She cut her off.
“Danger…? Not in the slightest. Ah, but my bass—”
“You just wanted someone to come get you?” Cut off. Again.
“That’s right. What’s there to worry ab—”
“I wasn’t worried about you. I literally don’t care.”
For some reason, Umiri smirked. “But I do.”
As if doing a magic trick, Umiri took her jacket off, spun, then placed it on Taki’s shoulders.
For a moment, Umiri just stood there, chin dipped and eyes closed, pride plain on her face.
Taki snapped. “Umiri, your leather fucking crop top isn’t going to warm me up!”
She placed a hand over her chest. Taki couldn’t tell if it was mock surprise or not. “How rude. I was simply trying to help.”
The residual body heat did warm up Taki, but she’d rather not admit that to the girl wanting to be praised for being nice.
Umiri couldn’t even stick with her decision to the end. Only a few moments passed, and the bassist was already shivering and hugging herself.
Now Taki just felt bad. “You’re the one who needs this apparently.” She took the jacket off. “Here, you idiot.”
“I’m not the one wet all over.”
“Can you stop saying I’m wet?!”
“I appreciate you getting wet for me, Taki-san.” She replied, bowing.
Taki was starting to get a headache. She could’ve been home by now, eating a nice, home-cooked dinner, maybe sleeping early. Well, probably not, but it’d be better than this.
Taki ran the scenario in her head. The rain didn’t seem to be letting up. They wouldn’t be able to call a taxi in the middle of a park. They’d have to stay together and wait for someone to come get them— but with this weather, at this hour? They’d have to tough it out here for a while.
…
It really is cold. It must be freezing for Umiri, huh?
…
“Hey, Umiri. Let’s share—”
“Ah. She’s here.”
Taki follows her eyes and sees a tall, dark figure making its way to their little oasis.
Suddenly, all of her instincts fire up again.
She yanked Umiri back and stepped in front of her, arm flaring out. Summoning as much authority as she could, she demanded, “Who are you?” Her eyes swept the figure from head to toe once more. “Stay back!”
The figure pauses, tilts its head, and seems to make eye contact with Umiri behind her. “Who’s this?”
There’s a familiar venom in those words. Yet, she does not recognize the voice at all.
She hears Umiri hum. “She’s a classmate.”
“So is Uiko. Why’s she here?” The figure replies.
“I thought she would come to my rescue.”
A click of the tongue. “Then why am I here?”
“I thought you would, as well,” Umiri replies, like it’s simple.
For a while, the only sound was the steady tapping of rain. Taki broke the silence first. “Wait. Umiri, you know her?”
“Indeed.”
So maybe Taki is a little embarrassed about baring her fangs to Umiri’s acquaintance. “Who is she?”
“Ave Mujica’s drummer.”
Taki does another once-over. The figure seems to pose for her, if the hand on their waist meant anything. Sakiko’s band, huh? “Should’ve guessed from the outfit.” Who wears a raincoat like that?
“The— hey! Not my usual wardrobe, for your information!” The figure takes its hood and glasses off. “And I have a name! Nyamu! Nya-mu Yu-ten-ji, thank you very much!”
Taki felt a tinge of annoyance just then, although she’s not sure why. The way she spoke, the thinly-veiled vitriol though staying civil… right. It reminded her of Soyo.
But it wasn’t just that. There was the showiness, the concern over how she wants to be seen, and most of all… that name.
It’s that damn content creator Anon liked so much.
“I don’t really care.” Taki replied, crossing her arms.
The ‘Nyamu’ smiles while trying to grab Umiri’s arm. “Oh, we have so much in common, don’t we?”
But Taki swats the taller girl’s hand away. “Hands off.”
Nyamu practically growls. “Huh~?!”
Umiri coughed deliberately, stepping between them. She cleared her throat, then: “Ladies, no fighting over me, please.”
…
Despite the sparks flying earlier, the two drummers join forces to glare at Umiri.
Looking up and down at them, she feels as if she has said something wrong. “I would like to rescind–”
“Girl, you ready to go?” Nyamu asked, pushing an umbrella at Taki.
“Huh? Course.”
“Please wait.”
Nyamu certainly did not think ahead to bring three umbrellas. While she had her own, Taki and Umiri were forced to share the other. She didn’t look back once as she led the way out of the park and into…
“...A company car?” Taki observed. Although there were no logos, the black paint job and old-timey model certainly gave that impression.
She spoke loud enough to be heard, but neither Ave Mujica members acknowledged her.
Nyamu went inside first. The driver tried to escort her, reaching for her umbrella, but she simply stepped around the gesture, unbothered. Taki didn’t know what to do with herself. She walked Umiri to the door and let her in, but held back, still soaking wet. It was the driver’s dutiful look that finally made her give in.
Umiri was sandwiched between them, once again unaware of the awkward, bordering on hostile atmosphere in the car. She spoke with a certain confidence. “Thank you for the help, Nyamuchi.”
“Don’t Nyamuchi me.” Nyamu avoided her gaze, staring out the window as raindrops ran down the glass.
Umiri was baffled. “Why not?” She tried peering into Nyamu’s expression, to no avail.
Taki tried to play it cool, folding her arms across her chest, but curiosity got the better of her. Umiri was kind of like her—less prickly, maybe, but not friendly either. So detached she probably didn’t even notice it. And still… this thing between them didn’t feel strictly professional. She hesitated, then the words slipped out. “Hey… Nyamu? Thanks as well. Surprised you didn’t just ignore her, though. I know I should’ve.”
“Taki-san?” Umiri turned back, horrified.
“I did. But Sakiko told me to do something about it.” Nyamu grumbled, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a flicker of amusement.
“And you listened to her?” Taki asked, baffled.
That earned another look from Umiri, while Nyamu only exhaled, shoulders sagging briefly. “Well, yeah.”
“Sakiko? That Sakiko Togawa?” That girl was falling apart when they last saw each other. How is she ordering around a girl of this caliber? “You owe her or something?”
She watched Nyamu’s eyes jump around before she replied. “Something like that.”
Something in Nyamu’s tone caught her off guard. It wasn’t just obligation. Maybe it was respect? Or something heavier she didn’t want to admit?
She felt a weird sense of deja vu then. Or was it camaraderie?
Umiri looked between them. “I’m glad you two are finally getting along.”
“Would ‘ya zip it?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Yeah. Definitely camaraderie.
Against Taki’s wishes, they arrived at the Wakaba residence.
She wanted to be dropped off earlier, but Nyamu refused, citing ‘Sakiko’s orders’. Taki grabbed that opportunity.
(“What are you, her lap dog?”)
(Nyamu clicked her tongue. “You know, at least her last ex didn’t say it to my face.”)
(“Huh?”)
She couldn’t shake the guilt of showering first—without even letting Mutsumi know. But if she ended up sick, that would only make things harder for everyone.
And so, being Umiri’s turn, it was just her and Nyamu in the living room.
On the other hand, Nyamu hadn’t spoken much outside of the initial conversation in the car. Even when they arrived, Taki knew her way around the house, and Umiri’s… audacity was infectious. She didn’t need to speak more than she needed to.
Which was good. Because the whole time, the question on her mind was…
What the hell made Taki so special?
She knew Taki was a drummer like her. She knew as much from Umiri, and what little she dug up of Sakiko’s past.
Now, with that attitude? She didn’t seem like the type to start a band, so she must’ve been recruited. Bribed? But she was still playing without Sakiko in the picture. Maybe there’s some other bigshot sponsoring her… but it’s hard to imagine someone more influential than Sakiko.
Was she just the closest available drummer? There aren’t a lot of drummers around, much less women. Maybe she was all that they could get? That was certainly the reason Nyamu started drumming– to fill a niche, more than anything.
There’s the obvious answer: maybe she was just that good. That was kind of the case for Umiko, wasn’t it? Extremely professional relationship… but that Taki girl didn’t seem like the type to do what she was told. Not even for a paycheck.
So that leaves…
“What else did Sakiko say?” Taki blurted out, looking everywhere but Nyamu’s face.
“Huh?”
She finally looks at the only other person in the room. “She made you fetch Umiri, lend me clothes... that all?”
Nyamu looked to the ceiling, tapping her finger against her phone. “Hmm... yeah.”
“Tell her thanks. I owe her.”
Nyamu clicked her tongue, leaning back on the couch, eyes narrowing slightly. “Tell her yourself... ugh. She mentioned you might say that.” She grabbed her phone. “You need not worry about it.” She read a message out loud in a breathy, high-pitched tone.
“I insi—”
“You insist. Yeah. She knows.” She scoffed and set the phone down. “Come on, girl. You know better than me—we can’t do a damn thing for her.”
For a moment, Taki thought about how she’d scorned Sakiko longer than she’d been honest with her feelings—for the girl and CRYCHIC. “Well… It's hard to tell what she's thinking sometimes. She's too…”
“—Selfless.”
“Stubborn!” Nyamu cried out, almost launching her phone off the couch.
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
“That Sakiko Togawa?”
“That Sakiko Togawa?”
For a moment, Taki sees a part of herself in Ave Mujica’s drummer. Why had Sakiko decided to make a new band, anyway? It seemed the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
“Impressive. As expected of drummers.”
Umiri stood in the hallway, giving the two an applause. Her hair was still wrapped in a towel shaped like ice cream, though she was already in casual clothes.
“You look stupid.” Taki lets slip.
“Is that true?” She asked Nyamu, who hid her face and waved it off with a smirk.
Umiri’s face shifts ever so slightly. “Please help me sort out the layers later.”
“Whatever~,” Nyamu replied, already returning her attention to her phone.
“You’re not leaving yet, Umiri?” Taki asks.
“No.”
“Oh… must be rough.” She thought about the workload that comes with being a professional musician. Sakiko can’t be handling everything, can she? There’s the whole play gimmick, too.
Umiri walks over to the couch as she replies. “I find sleepovers with Wakaba-san rather fun, actually.”
“What?”
“Did I say something strange?” she asked, her ice-cream-shaped towel slipping slightly as she tilted her head.
“No, it’s… never mind.” What the hell is this band’s deal? Taki gathered her things and rose from the couch. “I’ll be going, so… Thank you, Umiri.” She gave her the perfect bow, then turned toward her fellow drummer. “Nyamu.” Another bow, this time longer.
“Alright. See you, Taki-san.”
Nyamu regarded her for a second, seemingly surprised. “Sure. No prob’.”
It took a bit of convincing, but Taki managed to avoid being driven home by the company car. As for the two…
Nyamu shuts off the hair dryer, her face tightening as something clicks about that Taki girl.
Maybe not so much a realization and more like the only thing that made sense after their exchange.
Maybe she was the only person available, and who knows if she’s even any good at the drums…
One thing’s obvious— that girl actually gives a damn.
About Umiri, about Sakiko, and her new band, too.
“Hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”
Umiri is half-asleep as she replies. “That’s a little shameless.”
“What? No. Not me! That Taki girl.”
“Oh… am I?”
Nyamu places a hand on her chin. “Well… she doesn’t spoil you like Sakiko does. And Uiko’s… kind of a doormat. So.”
“Togawa-san does not spoil me. We simply have well-defined terms,” Umiri said, her tone nearly offended.
“Come on, she totally does!”
“As I’ve mentioned…” Umiri blinked. “Ah, are you jealous?”
Nyamu’s eyes snapped open. “Now you’ve said it.” She growled, aiming the hair dryer at Umiri’s eyes.
Umiri froze. “Please wait!”
Whhhiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr