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Hot. It was so, so hot.
Nijika put aside the mop and admired her handiwork. She sighed when she felt the cool breeze of the AC brushed against her neck. Harsh summer sunlight streamed through the window, making the room akin to the inside of a comically large heater.
With a small frown, Nijika pulled the curtains shut.
“...So, why are you here again?”
She glanced toward the corner of the room. Sitting on her bed, surrounded by plushies that weren’t even hers, was a blue-haired bassist lazily tuning her bass. The sight was almost laughable.
“Just because,” Ryo replied as she adjusted a tuning peg.
“Because... you didn’t have someone to bother?”
“Yep.”
Nijika plopped down beside her.
"I've always wondered," Nijika said, and Ryo turned around.
"What?"
"Why the bass?"
"I'm very good at the bass." Ryo raised the bass until it occupied most of Nijika's field of view.
Nijika instinctively leaned back.
"That's it? There's got to be more than that, Ryo."
"It's the backbone of the band," Ryo continued.
"You don't hear it. You feel it. You only notice it when it's gone."
"And it's pretty big, too," Nijika added, as if poking at her profundity with a drumstick.
"Not as big as a certain percussion instrument."
"Bleh."
Ryo glanced toward the ceiling.
"...Drums are loud."
"They have to be loud," Nijika protested. "Otherwise nobody knows where the beat is."
"They know."
"They absolutely do not."
Ryo plucked the open E string.
A low note drifted through the room before dissolving into the hum of the AC.
"See? And it doesn’t have to be loud," Ryo adds.
"Because you played only that."
"...Okay, fair."
Ryo rested the bass across her lap.
"If I stop during a song..."
"The guitarist panics?"
"The guitarist panics."
"The vocalist?"
"Looks around."
"The drummer?"
Ryo looked at Nijika.
"...Gets annoyed."
"I do not get annoyed."
"You glare."
"I focus."
"You glare while focusing."
Nijika folded her arms.
"...Maybe a little."
Ryo nodded once, as though a scientific hypothesis had just been confirmed.
A brief silence settled over the room. Outside, cicadas buzzed with enough determination to start their own band.
Nijika leaned back on her hands.
"So... you really never thought, 'I want to be the one in the spotlight'?"
Ryo took a moment before answering.
"When the bass is doing its job..."
She absentmindedly traced a finger along the strings.
"...everyone else gets to shine."
Nijika blinked.
"...That's unexpectedly sweet."
"I know."
"...You know?"
"I've been told."
Nijika laughed.
"There it is. I was wondering where the real Ryo went."
Another quiet note rang out.
"I also like the low frequencies."
"There she is."
"And basses are expensive."
"There she is."
"And they're easier to borrow than buy."
Nijika's smile froze.
"...Ryo."
"Hm?"
"You didn't."
"...I didn't."
"You hesitated."
"I was remembering."
"Remembering what?"
"...Which music shop."
"...RYO."
Ryo's expression remained perfectly level.
"...I didn't say I borrowed it recently."
Nijika grabbed the nearest plushie and lightly bonked her on the shoulder.
"You are unbelievable."
"So I've been told."