[α]
alpha crucis / acrux
Takeru came to Yamato's apartment with a leaflet—his high school's emblem printed above the decorative number fifty.
"The Committee wants Knife of Day to perform at the cultural festival," he explained after he put down the paper above the dining table, where they had gathered for an impromptu dinner. "It happens to coincide with the golden anniversary of our school, so there's more reason for the alumni to participate."
With a frown creasing his forehead, Yamato gave the sole reason not to participate.
"Knife of Day is dead."
"But The Committee insists," Takeru persuaded. "They're crazy about Knife of Day—no, actually, they're crazy about you. Most of them watched Tsukishima High's festival when they were still in middle school and had long dreamed of being able to present the great Ishida Yamato when they become in charge."
"Yeah, because surely His Majesty Ishida will become the magnet of their event, which means more visitors," Taichi snickered beside Yamato as he munched his second fried prawn. "You're the symbol of profit, Yama—the Adonis of the capitalist."
Ignoring his fatuous roommate, Yamato repeated his words with all possible emphasis. "Knife of Day is no longer exist, and I'm busy. Being a university student is hard, you know?"
"Alright. What if I say that I'm the one who wants you to perform?" Takeru countered without a single hint of giving up in his tone. "Yes, I'm here because some of my kouhai ask me for help, but I also want to end my high school days with something spectacular to remember. And I know when it comes to 'spectacular', there is no better expert than my brother. Would you be so kind as to perform for me once again?"
Taichi whistled low at Takeru's effort while Yamato was trying so hard not to get swayed. Sometimes he forgot that his little brother had this charm speak ability that could make anyone kneel easily. Just when he thought he was being the most reasonable person in the room, Takeru always did his trick and made him rethink his stance.
Still and all, Yamato ended up anchoring himself well enough. "I don't want to play, sorry. I'm a bandsman, not a soloist."
"So you need a band? I can play the guitar."
"I don't want a backup band," Yamato quickly retorted. "And I need an eminent guitarist who can keep up like Akira."
Hearing such an obnoxity, Taichi couldn't help but snort. Little did he know that Yamato was deliberately playing hard to get in the hope that Takeru would back off. However, Takeru was unfazed as if he wasn't offended by Yamato, who indirectly called him a poor player.
"Fine," Takeru said. "I know someone."
"You know someone?"
"He's Hikari's classmate. They're sitting next to each other."
"Oh, so you're dragging him to this project as an effort to watch him closer?" Hearing his sister's name, Taichi impulsively jumped in with a smirk—utilising his chance to bring Takeru to a shame. "You're threatened by him because you're afraid Hikari's gonna fall for him when you're moving to Paris?"
Takeru faked a hurtful look.
"I will never think that low of Hikari that I believe she'd two-timed me."
There was a shelf separating the dining area with their ever-tiny living room. Being the one who sat next to it, Taichi—with an expression that instantly changed upside down—grabbed one of the books to hit Takeru who played the victim card. It was just an empty threat and no one was hurt eventually, but Takeru seemed entertained by Taichi's fury.
"Anyway," Takeru turned to his brother once again. "Just give him a chance. I've listened to him and he's a prodigy. I know how high you set the bar, so I won't recommend him if he's not great. Please?"
Takeru didn't need a puppy-eye to persuade Yamato further, just like Yamato who didn't need to respond blatantly to his brother's strange request. "Whatever," he clicked his tongue ignorantly, picking up one of the fried prawns before Taichi greedily snatched them all.
Like a Cheshire cat, Takeru grinned so proudly that Yamato just wanted to wipe that smug from his face. "Arigatou, Oniichan," the boy said with a cutesy and then proceeded to break his chopsticks. Just before he joined the fried prawn bandwagon, he caught a glance of the book Taichi grabbed earlier, which was still lying on the dining table.
"Introduction to Aerospace Engineering…" he read the title out loud in a half-musing and half-questioning tone.
"We have to pick a concentration next semester," Yamato answered calmly. "I'm exploring my options."
"I never knew you have an interest in aeronautics."
Yamato started to chew his food slower, pondering about his brother's words. "Well," he replied shortly as his mind began to play the intro of a familiar song; a part of a faint memory he almost forgot.
Until some time ago.
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[β]
beta crucis / mimosa
His life was a series of regular monotonous routines: woke up at five to brew a hot milk tea while reviewing the materials for the day, walked to the school, studied at class, left the school to attend cram school like any other twelfth graders, returned home, worked on his homework while listening to space sounds from the internet, went to bed, repeat. Also on the agenda was the Siesta Toastmasters meeting every Monday night, and since he was already in the final year of high school, Ken could gladly scratch the routine of "playing dumb in music class on Wednesdays" because they no longer had the subject.
It wasn't like he couldn't play any instrument—or worse, tone-deaf. His brother, Osamu, even dubbed him as a "pitch-perfect" or "music prodigy" interchangeably because Ken could play a song with either a piano or guitar only by ear, while Osamu—who was actually passionate about learning guitar—had to get through the hardship of reading notes. Ken just chose not to attach himself with any music or instruments ever since Osamu's accident.
Music was supposed to be Osamu's thing, not his. Ken only played if Osamu was the one who asked. Now that he was gone, what was the point of playing if it only brought him sorrow and pain?
Yet, he still couldn't help it every time he passed the music room and saw the acoustic guitar leaning idly in its place while no one was around. Osamu always said that it was always in his blood despite Ken's lack of interest; then perhaps this urge was his natural prowess screaming for a refinement. He habitually made damn sure that no one was really around before entering the room and cosied himself in the seat. Since he never used sheet music, Ken plugged in his earphone so that he could play a song and serenade along. However, before he chose, it was another routine of his to warm up his fingers with a medley he created a few years back.
It started with the intro of Oye Como Va that was roughly fifty seconds. Although the tempo was quite an allegro, his hands only started to really work out when he continued with the flamenco guitar solo from Innuendo . His left fingers ran up and down the neck of the guitar, while the right ones strummed the lower strings—but even when his hands seemed very busy, he could still knock his knuckle against the wooden surface for additional clap-like beats just like the original version. This melody was pretty hard to imitate, but Ken managed to do his best. And for that, he got some applause—literal ones.
The uninvited sound staggered him to the core that he almost dropped his phone as he was about to browse a song. The colours on Ken's face faded when he saw a boy his age standing in front of the closed door. He was too flabbergasted that he couldn't even process the whole situation with questions like when was he standing there? or is this the effect of wearing earphones, or is it because he was so immersed in the guitar that he didn't notice his surroundings anymore?
The boy smiled at him, the kind of smile that was actually friendly but currently looked daunting for Ken. "Queen, right?" he asked. "I remember my dad played the music video on the TV when I was a little boy, and I got scared because they had creepy masks and dolls."
He then added as he scouted closer, "And that part is very challenging, yet you did a great job." He stopped a few metres before Ken. "My dad also said that it wasn't Brian May who took that part, but Steve Howe from Yes."
Ken was finally able to open his mouth, although his voice trembled a little. "Who are you ?" He was never a sociable person to begin with. Thus, he didn't recognise the face even though he seemed to have every material to be a popular guy—light-coloured hair, confident smile.
"Takaishi Takeru from class 12-4. I'm Hikari's boyfriend," the boy mentioned Ken's seatmate. "I want you to be in my band."
His elder brother was outspoken enough for Ken, but apparently, this Takaishi guy was way more straightforward.
"I don't play."
"Ah, yes. Hikari said you hate music class, but I'm not looking for a melodica or recorder player anyway. I watched you play by yourself here for about… three times already, I guess?"
How Ken wished all classrooms in this school did not have a small windowpane in their doors, or the least they could do for the so-called music room was to give a soundproof wall.
"I'm busy."
"Of course. You're a final year student who goes to cram school every day even though you consistently hold the pole position in our school when it comes to grades. I heard from a lot of our friends that you probably don't need to do the entrance exam because you can just pick what you like, and the university will gladly accept you." The words might sound offensive in some way, but Takeru said it nonchalantly—still with a wide innocent smile. "Oh, I forgot that somehow you manage to squeeze in Spanish language gathering once a week, right? You're awesome, Ichijouji. Are you planning to study in Spain? I'm going to France after graduation—maybe I should visit you sometime."
Ken's eyes widened, wondering how Takeru obtained the schedule he had kept a secret from anyone outside his parents. As if he was able to read Ken's expression, Takeru then continued, "Hikari saw you a few times exiting a building in Jiyugaoka at night. The internet said that the building holds a social club called…Siesta?"
That statement was the peak where Ken felt overwhelmed and creeped out. This Yagami-Takaishi couple was surely as lethal as Bonnie and Clyde.
"It's not a lifetime project, Ichijouji," Takeru said. "It's just for the cultural festival. Don't you think it's a good moment to do something different? A little change before we take one step further to a grown-up?"
A change.
For Takeru, it might be just one last opportunity to make a good memory before closing the school life chapter, but his words had another meaning for Ken. His life had been quite rough ever since he lost his dear brother when Ken entered middle school. Juggling between school and mental health was not an easy task, and even though he could always satisfy the academic requirement, his aching heart and depressed soul were struggling to heal.
He constantly bowed his head down every time he passed through Osamu's room and refused to step inside—unlike his mother, who periodically entered the room and fell asleep there. At one point, Ken was even too scared to use the crosswalks because his memory would instantly play the accident that took Osamu's life away. Everything that reminded Ken of his older brother would either be avoided or thrown away: the video game they played together, the keychain that Osamu won at the arcade for him, and—finally—music.
But it had been six years. For six long years he wrapped himself in grief.
Osamu once told him that if only Ken played in a band, he would be successful. Maybe he could prove whether his brother was right.
Maybe this was really the right time for a change.
"I'll play the guitar along with you, so if you're worried about making a mistake, I'll have your back. Although I'm not as good as you—you're probably the one who's going to cover for me," Takeru's voice cut Ken's contemplation off. "Great bands always have a pair of guitarists anyway. Hetfield and Hammet. Slash and Izzy Stradlin. George Harrison and John Lennon…."
A notification sound interrupted their conversation. Takeru picked up his phone, tapping his screens two times before returning the gadget to his pocket. "Why don't you just give it a try? I'm going to ask for your contact to Hikari if you don't mind, and then I'll message you an address. Come this Saturday, okay?"
Takeru then apologised that he had to leave due to some errands, but before he closed the door, he seemed to remember something else as he turned around to face Ken once again.
"Also, if you're Harrison and I'm Lennon, bear in mind that in this band, I'm not the one who's actually in command," he said. "You need to see the McCartney."
Ken blinked in confusion.
Takeru gave a sly smile and left without further explanation.
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[γ]
gamma crucis / gacrux
It was a perfect time to spend recess at the rooftop, with the blue sky hanging peacefully along with a parade of big white clouds. Takeru sat on the ground with his back slumped against the wall and his head resting on Hikari's shoulder. While they ate a box of round-shaped onigiri together, they also shared a pair of earphones—with Hikari getting the left side and Takeru the other—and put the playlist on shuffle mode. If a song sounded pretty easy in his ear, Takeru would try to mimic the chorus with the guitar on his lap even though he often picked the wrong chord.
"This song seems to be about you," Takeru said after one minute into the song—peace by Taylor Swift was on. "But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm; if your cascade, ocean wave blues come…." He hummed lowly while trying to play some chords that made the refrain.
Hikari glanced at her boyfriend, wearing a wrinkle on her forehead. She decided not to question the statement further and tried to change the topic. "What did you say to Ichijouji-kun yesterday?"
"What do you mean?"
"He's sort of… avoiding me."
"Hmm. Maybe because I told Ichijouji that you saw him in Jiyugaoka."
"Takeru! I told you not to mention that—the least you could do was saying you're the one who saw him instead! No wonder he looked at me frightened like I'm his stalker!"
"Still, you cannot deny the fact that you're also curious about him."
Hikari sighed. "That poor boy. I even saw him unconsciously moving his hands as if he was playing a guitar under the desk. Do you know that his late brother won the All-Japan Student Guitar Festival once? Maybe Ichijouji- kun decided to avoid music because it'll remind him of his brother."
Takeru smiled as he fixed his position, now turning himself to face Hikari. " Wow, you really are stalking him, aren't you?" he mused. "Your brother had warned me about this, but do I actually have to be jealous with your browser history?"
A chuckle was all Hikari could give. "Looking for Ichijouji-kun's information on the internet wasn't that hard. Do you know what's harder? Looking for your information. I've known you for years, yet I don't know you're also a guitar maestro."
"I'm not. That's my brother's title," Takeru corrected. "But I can play. Not that good, but okay. My dad was in a band once when he was still a bachelor. He's quite a rock star—imagine Yamato on Knife of Day's golden era. He brainwashed his sons with music ever since we were young, signed us up for a guitar class, made us listen to his cassettes in the car while he lectured about the history of rock. God, he even sent us to sleep with Sweet Child O'mine as a lullaby." Takeru laughed at his own memory. "Again, Yamato's the one who inherits the talent. I can only remember the trivial things; the place where John Lennon first met Yoko Ono, or the year when The Dark Side of The Moon was released."
It sounded like a pleasant memory that Hikari couldn't help but smile. She knew how much Takeru preserved his childhood memory since it was everything he had before his parents' separation changed his life. Nevertheless, there was one thing she still wondered about even after hearing such an explanation.
"So tell me," she stated. "If you're not that confident with your skill, why do you want to play this gig so bad? Why put all the effort in this band?"
There was no answer momentarily, but in that peaceful silence, Takeru gave another look at Hikari, this time with a hint of admiration in both his eyes and smile. He always knew that he chose the right person to be with. He loved her curiosity—the way she deduced things from her surroundings and how she never missed a little thing with the help of her strong discernment. And she didn't stop there. If she knew there was something wrong, she would try her best to help.
"I want to help Yamato," Takeru finally said. "Maybe he didn't realise it himself, but he was certainly heartbroken when he had to disband Knife of Day because of… you know—the Akira thing. And I know he tries to distract himself with uni and stuff like aerospace, but I can see he lost half of his soul."
He sighed. "I just don't want to see him not being himself before I go, Hikari. I want to make sure that he's in good hands."
His confession might sound frivolous for others, but Hikari knew his feelings too well. She too had an older brother she loved very dearly. When Taichi decided to leave the house and live with Yamato, she was worried sick that his brother would become unwell, or worse, become someone she no longer knew. And for Heaven's sake, they were only separated by two different train lines.
For Takeru, it would be more than six thousand miles soon.
She took one of his hands, holding it tightly. "Don't worry. He'll be alright," she told him with a smile so reassuring. "You're going to do a great job, Takeru."
Takeru gazed at their entwined hands. To think that they would also part once he left for Paris made him bitter in every way, but he refused to get tangled up in blue until the time really came. He pulled their fists up for a kiss before he took off his hand and the earphone. "That reminds me I have one more person to help."
Hikari nudged her head up, looking at the boy who was now towering her. "Are you sure I'm not the one who is supposed to get jealous?" she joked. "You seem busy assembling your ikemen harem."
"Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to get a special reward for your endless patience and support."
"And that is?"
"A front-row ticket and a backstage pass, of course. You may also get an exclusive signature with a kiss from the rhythm guitarist. I heard he's a total babe."
Hikari rolled her eyes lazily.
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[δ]
delta crucis / imai
Once, he thought that maybe he wasn't that good in kendo, mainly because he had a childlike appearance with his tiny height. Maybe he was merely jumping on the bandwagon because he didn't want to embarrass the status as the grandson of the best kendo master in their prefecture. At least that was what his seniors in the kendo club told him when he was still in his first year of middle school, so he decided to prove himself by joining the regional competition a year later, which he won.
Yet with the victory in hand, history repeated itself when he became a freshman again—now in high school. He enrolled himself in the same club, met the same seniors—because their middle school and high school were attached—and, ironically, faced the same problem again; this time with his seniors saying, "You've won already, so just give a chance to those who haven't." One person even had the audacity to whisper behind his back, saying that his accomplishment was just a stroke of pure luck. After all, he quoted, "kendo was not meant for a little kid."
Long short story, Hida Iori returned to become the backing taiko drummer instead of being the club's key player.
To say that he wasn't fed up with the whole situation was a big fat lie. He even pushed himself for extra hours of practice, not only after all the club members had returned home but also on weekends in his grandfather's dojo. However, he knew that his chance was next to none if those seniors were still in control of the club. His best shot was to wait for another year when his seniors were stripped down from their positions due to the final exam, just like he did back in middle school.
Sometimes he wished he had the power to oppose this systemic hierarchy, but even though kendo taught him to fight, he never was the kind of person to involve himself in a dispute. There was no point of arguing, especially if you knew that you had been placed in the lower position by the status quo.
Maybe he really was a little kid.
That afternoon, he stepped out of the school's dojo to wash his face on the sink alongside the taiko sticks that seemed mucky after being used quite often. The basketball team just exited the court beside the dojo, and between the splashes of water, he could faintly hear them chitchatting. Oddly, their voice grew louder as they walked further, seemingly announcing someone's name in unison, in addition to the sound of clapping hands. Iori did not pay attention well enough to the commotion, at least until he found a shadow looming over him and found a guy when he turned his head to the right.
"I thought the kendo club had finished their practice one and a half hour ago," the guy said with a semi-asking tone. "Sorry if the court was too noisy. It's almost time for the competition."
"I was using the dojo outside the club hours indeed. I'm sorry."
"No need to. I'm no longer part of the basketball club, but I'm sure all of my kouhai wouldn't mind with only one person next door. Are you Hida Iori by any chance?"
Despite his curiosity about how the guy knew his name, Iori lowered himself for a bow. "Hai. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
"You really are a polite person. I didn't expect that there's such a fire inside you."
"Pardon?"
"Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to offend you. You were in the regional competition a couple of years ago, right? I was in the same sports complex for a basketball spar when you had your matches. I saw you battling it all out, and you were so great."
"I still need to improve myself, but thank you so much…"
"Takeru. Just call me Takeru. So, are you preparing yourself for the competition?"
Iori was not supposed to feel offended, considering this senior did not know the truth, but he shifted his head back to the sink and distracted himself by cleaning the sticks. "No. I don't think I'm going to participate."
"But why? You're such a great kendoka ."
"It's time for the others to win," Iori said with a stung on his heart. "A little kid like me doesn't stand a chance anyway."
"Then do you want to try and play an adults game?"
His words were so ambiguous that Iori couldn't help but looking at this Takeru guy again. He was smiling sheepishly, much to Iori's dismay.
"What do you mean?"
"I just think that you don't get enough appreciation, seeing how low you perceive yourself just now. If the club doesn't want to count your existence, then I will."
Iori paused for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I can't seem to follow you, senpai. I am, after all, a member of the club, so I have to support my friends nevertheless." And truth be told, instead of standing down, Iori preferred to stay and wait for his chance to prove them all wrong.
"The thing is, Iori-kun, your seniors in the club are a group of sore losers." To hear Takeru said those things nonchalantly made Iori taken aback. He was raised in such a respectful family that he tended to carefully choose his words, especially when addressing someone older. Iori was even more surprised when Takeru continued as if he could read his mind, "No matter how hard you try, they will never let you move forward because that's the same as admitting you're better than any of them. You're just wasting your time, and I don't want to let you go to waste."
The apprehension came in very, very slowly for Iori—and as frustrating as it might be, sometimes it was easier to look at the other perspective when someone said so. Maybe he wasn't that good in kendo, but what if he was that good? What if there was really an effort to outshine him and make him feel low?
And seemingly, the plan went well for them.
There was a feeling of dejection that suddenly turned Iori's suspicion of Takeru's game into curiosity. He clenched his hands tighter on both the sticks in his hands. "…what are you offering, then?"
"You can use that thing just like you excel at using shinai, right?" Takeru pointed at those sticks. "I passed the dojo sometimes and saw you play the taiko when you're not stepping forward."
Iori squinted, having no idea where this conversation would head to. "Well, I can play…." His grandfather's dojo also owned some taiko; one of them even had a larger size. It was like his second nature to play the instrument while waiting for his turn.
"Great," Takeru's mouth quirked up in satisfaction. "Because I need a drummer."
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It was the summer when Yamato was still in his third grade of elementary. Typically, his kindergarten brother would have arrived from Tokyo to spend the whole summer holiday with him in their grandparents' house. However, their mother was in a packed schedule that she could not make time to escort Takeru.
So, there he was; sitting on the edge of the rice field, only accompanied by the echoes of cicada whines and a harmonica between his fingers and his mouth.
He found the instrument when he just moved to Shimane after his father, who was supposed to have custody of him, was apparently 'too busy' for such a big responsibility. It was stored inside the cupboard in the spare room, which later became Yamato's bedroom. His grandfather then said that Yamato could keep it, and being a kid who was always naturally curious about music, Yamato decided to learn how to play. The learning process itself helped him distract himself from the recent change of his environment; new house, new school—which also meant new friends, although he was still struggling in that department because he constantly kept himself alone.
" Across the Universe ."
But it seemed like he wasn't really alone that night.
Yamato halted as he turned his head. There was a boy around his age standing just a few steps from his spot. Yamato might not have someone he could call a friend here yet, but he could recognise that this boy did not go to the same school as him.
"That's The Beatles, right?" the boy added. He didn't speak with an Unpaku dialect like most of the people here. In fact, he got no accent at all even when he pronounced the title of the song once again, signalling that his English was exceptional. " Across the Universe ."
Yamato was quite surprised that he could only murmur as a response. No one around his age had the knowledge of foreign tunes since they only learned some children songs in their native language at school. He himself probably wouldn't have known this song were it not for his father's unusual taste.
"I've never heard someone playing the song on a harmonica," the boy said before adding, "actually, I've never heard someone playing harmonica before." He chuckled, and Yamato replied with a tiny smile.
The boy then proceeded to introduce his name, which Yamato unfortunately forgot by now. Although he was attentive to his surroundings, he wasn't good with names (Takeru was the one who could easily remember them—he even memorised the personnel of some legendary bands they often listened to with their father). They exchanged small talk, where Yamato found out that the boy indeed came from Tokyo and stayed in his grandmother's house for a week. He rarely visited Shimane because his father was busy with his job that required flying back and forth to Mexico; but that also explained his familiarity with foreign music. He said that his father became fond of classic rock while he was away and often brought home some vinyl from his business trip, most of them being Santana.
He then asked Yamato to resume his play because he interrupted Yamato earlier right in the first refrain. Even though Yamato was usually bothered by the presence of others in his comfort zone, he found this boy to be pleasant company. He put the harmonica back to his mouth, trying to complete the song as far as he could remember—despite the mistakes here and there. Sometimes, the boy beside him would hum along, and at one point, Yamato saw his fingers moved as if he was strumming an imaginary guitar.
"What do you think about the universe, Yamato?" the boy asked after they finished with the jam.
"Eh…" Yamato raised his head to look at the night sky. "I don't know. But I guess every time I think about how big it is, it makes me realise how tiny I am. Who would have thought earlier that the thumb-sized moon could be landed by an object as enormous as a spaceship?"
"Have you ever thought about going out there? To space?"
"I always thought that space is a lonely place." Even for Yamato, who had grown accustomed of being by himself, the outer space seemed to be overwhelmingly empty.
"Well, you're not certainly alone if there really is life on Mars, right?"
"Huh. So you're a sci-fi maniac, after all." Yamato had tried not to judge the cover, but with the glasses and what he said just now, the boy indeed struck him as a nerd.
The boy laughed cheerily. "No, but seriously. Let's talk about the most mainstream thing in space: the stars." He fixed the glasses on his nose bridge. "If there's someone on earth who feels lost and lonely, can't they just look up to know that the stars will always shine for them? Even if humans are willing to put in a little effort, they'll learn that those speckles are there to guide them; like Polaris who will lead them to the north, and the Southern Cross who will bring them south. And who knew that these stars might guide them to find something that probably can liberate them from loneliness? Maybe a sailor will return to his home. Maybe a wanderer will find a new, warm shelter."
There was a beam in his face as he continued to gaze at the clear night sky. "And if you had a chance to go to outer space, don't you think it'll be amazing to be literally among millions of stars? I don't think you're going to be that lonely."
The explanation was like an invitation for Yamato to leap into a world of imagination. He pictured himself skyrocketing to the infinite space, and when he opened his eyes, the darkness was still there—except this time he could also see the stars twinkle one by one. How they are so up-close and seemed to shine just for him as if saying that there was no need to worry about the emptiness that surrounded him.
They were really such an out-of-this-world kind of company.
"Damn, I really sound like a nerd," the boy stifled his laugh and got up. "Sorry, but my brother's a bit obsessed about astronomy, which reminds me I should get going. I was just out for a quick stargazing since the sky here is so wonderful compared to Tokyo—I bet you can even see the milky way later on." He patted his trousers, trying to get rid of the dirt. "But my brother must be very upset knowing that he couldn't see this view."
"Your brother?'
"My little brother. He's back at grandma's house. Got ill immediately once we arrived here."
Somehow, Yamato was reminded of Takeru.
"By the way, do you happen to have the music sheets for Across the Universe? Maybe I can try to entertain him while he's in bed. It's okay if it's for the harmonica; I think I can arrange it somehow to adapt with the guitar."
That explained his finger movements earlier.
"I can give you the guitar tabs." It was Yamato who actually had to convert the notes so it would be playable for harmonica. The sheet itself was a legacy from his father, back when he was still actively playing as a guitarist.
His eyes widened. "You play the guitar too?"
"My first instrument." Yamato was actually in the middle of learning bass when he decided to take a short break and study the harmonica instead. Not that he hated bass—the opposite, in fact.
"Good lord, you're awesome, Yamato," the boy grinned in delight. "I hope someday we can play along together."
On the following day, Yamato delivered the tabs as per the direction; his grandmother's house was the only house in the village with a fig tree in the yard. The boy thanked him, but they couldn't talk for a little longer since he had to help his grandmother boil the water for his little brother who was still sick.
After that, Yamato never saw him again—maybe he really was just staying for a week. Eventually, the grandmother died because of a heart attack, but when Yamato accompanied his grandparents to attend the funeral, he didn't get a chance to find him. The boy didn't seem to return afterwards until it was Yamato's turn to also leave Shimane for good and back to Tokyo for middle school.
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.
It was strange for him to return to the studio.
His last memory of this place was not great at all. Yamato remembered how Knife of Day finally paved their way into stardom and received the invitation to the Battle of The Bands—one of the best gigs in town that could lead them to a more prominent show, like Fuji Rock Festival or maybe even Summer Sonic. He was waiting for the other members to come when he received a phone call from the police, which proved true every rumour that had been whirling around the band and their fans lately.
There were four of them in the band, but Akira was his best friend. Yamato would never stop admiring his guitar skill—one of the best he ever saw, in fact—and how they could complement each other's playing, even in the state where they hadn't done much coordination beforehand. The many similarities between them made it easy for Yamato to befriend him, and Akira constantly had his back too. That was why Yamato would do anything for him, including lending him some money he said would be sent to his seriously ill sister in Tottori. Who would have thought that the same money would be used to blow some coke?
He never knew how he could become so blind.
As their name got removed from the Battle of the Bands, Knife of Day naturally went for its disbandment. The betrayal left a lingering pain inside him, and ever since that incident, Yamato had been quite reluctant to pick up his bass. That was why he decided to distract himself by investing everything in his study, but it wasn't easy. Music, after all, was his calling.
Yamato was slowly inspecting every instrument available in that room when Takeru walked in with a short guy. "Oh, you're here already, Oniichan?" he asked while closing the door, which Yamato didn't answer as he found the question rhetorical. He then glanced at the boy who came with him, sensing the air that was still quite awkward.
"This is Hida Iori. He'll play the drums for us."
Yamato wasn't sure how old this Iori was, but judging how he bowed himself politely and the way he introduced himself, he seemed like a youngster with a pure, idealistic mind.
Along came another knock in the door before another guy stepped in. At first, he hesitated, but then immediately apologised for being late as he saw three of them already inside the studio. Takeru, with his usual friendly demeanour, waved his hand casually. "You're just right in time. Did you struggle to find your way here?"
"N, no. Your direction is apparent, Takaishi-kun. Thank you very much."
"I'm glad, then. By the way, this is Hida Iori," Takeru, who was now embracing Ken, turned Ken's shoulder to the direction of Iori. "He's our junior from class 10-1." And that explanation proved Yamato's hypothesis about Iori's age.
After Iori repeated the same formal bow he gave earlier, Takeru shifted Ken again—this time to face Yamato. "Oniichan. This is Ichijouji Ken, our lead guitarist," he said. "And Ichijouji, that's Ishida Yamato, my elder brother and the McCartney."
Yamato frowned in confusion, but Ken didn't seem to bother as he went for a bow together with another yoroshiku oneigashimasu.
"Ah! I forgot something!" Takeru suddenly clapped. "Iori-kun, would you mind helping me out?"
Of course a well-behaved person like Iori wouldn't decline a chance to help out his senior, so he reflectively responded with an eager "hai!" and one firm nod. Takeru escorted him back outside the studio, and before shutting the door completely, Takeru gave a cryptic wink to Yamato. That was when he realised that Takeru purposely left him with this Ichijouji so they could get acquainted, considering that Yamato was very picky with his guitarist.
That sneaky little brat.
Yamato sighed and turned himself to Ken, who seemed to be fairly uncomfortable with the situation. "So," he toned up his voice a little bit. "You play the guitar, huh?"
"…sort of."
"Right."
Yamato then motioned towards the electric guitars that were leaning on their docks, just between the bass and the drum set. "Can you play now?"
Ken didn't seem to be fazed at first—again with his hesitation.
"Do you have a specific piece that I need to play?"
Yamato preferred his guitarist to be more assertive and asked fewer questions.
"Just play anything. New music or something."
"Uhm. Sorry, but I don't… really listen to music."
Yamato had to pause for a moment to make sure that he heard him correctly. Did he just say that he didn't listen to music? Not just new music—but music in general? What kind of a person did Takeru bring him?
Nevertheless, Ken stepped forward and picked up one of the guitars available. He didn't seem familiar with the strap, yet he chose to wear it to support his back instead of sitting himself in the empty chairs. He took his time to tune the instrument, strumming the strings until they hit the right chords. With one deep breath, he finally played a song—a song that was once familiar, carrying Yamato back to the memory of one particular summer.
It was Across the Universe.
Ken didn't have to sing the lyrics—Yamato knew that pattern of chords like the back of his hand. At first, Yamato was too thunderstruck until he forgot that he had to judge Ken's skill; yet Yamato was equally lost for words when he really did that. Like any other songs from The Beatles, the song was straightforward, but Ken refined it to become a very personal and remarkable version. The way his fingers moved, the way he improvised even though it was still the first verse—they are all so, so …
Prodigious.
It was so magical that for the first time after a couple of years, Yamato had an appetite to grab the bass and sit down before joining in after the first chorus. It took him only a few seconds to find himself in sync, not only with the instrument but also with Ken's play. And Ken seemed to realise this instant bond as he glanced slightly before his lips curled in a tiny smile. They added more improvisation here and there, but Ken looked hesitant to add some solo, so Yamato took the privilege happily even though his bass did not produce a smoother sound than the guitar.
Once the song ended, Yamato did not catch a break and continued to play another song instead. He momentarily looked at Ken, and even though Ken seemed to understand Yamato's expectation, his fingers were still quiescent above his guitar strings.
"I… I'm sorry, but I don't know this song," Ken revealed just like Yamato predicted earlier. It was the basslines from Higher Ground, and it should be a pretty well-known song if someone were really devoted to rock music or playing instruments. Apparently, Ken didn't lie when he said he was out of date.
Just what kind of person is he?
"It's okay. Just play along and improvise with me," Yamato told him. Ken stared back with doubt, but then he managed to muster some courage to comply with Yamato's request. Initially, he just strummed one or two strings, but as the song went further, he managed to keep up with Yamato and little by little, the song became the Higher Ground that Yamato knew—or even better. Was it probably the Highest Ground?
They were so immersed in playing that they ended the song with one loud jolt. Their breath became unknowingly short because of their high spirit, and when they found each other in a similar condition, they both finally smiled—happily, satisfyingly.
"Wow."
And one other thing they weren't aware of was the presence of Takeru and Iori back in the studio. Iori stood in awe; his mouth was slightly opened, and his hands were almost met for a clap. However, Takeru was the one who gave the first applause—his expression was as content as ever.
"Well, then," he prompted cheerfully. "This is going to be a hell of a show, isn't it?"
.
.
They practised pretty often—and for students who were in their final year, both Ken and Takeru seemed pretty committed to the project as they always diligently showed up. Although Iori faced some difficulties since he didn't know how to play the drums properly, it became gradually easier after they agreed that Iori should just memorise how to play the songs instead of reading complicated notations. Takeru also struggled a few times as he warned before, but his enthusiastic personality always managed to light up the rehearsals.
And finally, the day of the festival came.
The Committee transformed one empty classroom into the backstage for the performers. Iori seemed nervous in the corner of the room, but Takeru helped him to keep his head cool—as always, the optimistic Takaishi. Yamato casually sat on the couch while tuning his bass guitar, probably felt nothing as he was more accustomed to this kind of situation.
Ken? Ken was extremely terrified.
At first glance, he did not look like someone who was having stage fright, but deep inside, his heart was rushing as if it was ready to leap out of his chest. He could feel the chill behind his neck, yet his palm was getting sweaty as if they were in the summertime. With the door slightly ajar, Ken could hear the noises coming from the field. It was the band from the second-year students who were currently performing, and judging from the sound, it seemed like they attracted quite a large crowd—which made this more nerve-racking for Ken. What if he suddenly forgot how to play once they went up the stage? What if he failed the show and disappointed his bandmates? He was so absorbed in his own anxiety that he even forgot to tune his guitar and checked his phone.
"Ichijouji-kun!"
That was why he should thank God for Yagami Hikari.
After asking for permission, the girl entered the room (which no one objected to because she was Takeru's girlfriend anyway), but she wasn't by herself. Behind her, a young woman followed suit. She looked the same age as Yamato, with light brown streaks at the tip of her chestnut-coloured hair. There was this foreign aura emanating from her facial features, and Ken knew why: because she wasn't completely Japanese.
"This lady was looking for you out there," Hikari explained, but she didn't need to make it long because the next second, that lady jumped right onto him for a hug.
"Ken-chan!" she squealed. "Why don't you pick up my calls?! I was searching for you the entire building—fortunately, I met this sweet Chiquita!"
Her embrace was so tight that Ken could barely breathe.
"M, Mariya-neesama … l, let me g, go…"
"—oh!" She finally released him after realising she almost choked him to death. "Sorry, sorry! Are you okay, Ken-chan?"
Hearing the same nickname repetitively made Ken flush in embarrassment, and the chuckle from the Takaishi-Yagami couple just turned the whole thing worse. He quickly changed the topic by introducing the lady to his bandmates. "This is Kobayashi Mariya. She's my senior at the Spanish language club I joined."
Mariya's bubbly personality was indeed welcomed by Takeru and Hikari, while Iori kept his formality by bowing ninety degrees as always. When Ken introduced Mariya to Yamato, she whispered in Spanish, asking whether Yamato was still single—which was answered by Ken only with a chuckle. Afterwards, Mariya held both of Ken's shoulders, her eyes glimmering in pride.
"I'm so happy to see you finally perform, Ken-chan. I know you can do it," Mariya shook his shoulders lightly. "Thank you so much for inviting me."
Ken smiled. "No, thank you. I won't be here without your support." Mariya, after all, was more than just a colleague in the Siesta Toastmasters. Ken knew her since they were young; she was the daughter of his father's boss, who was married to a Mexican woman. She was the one who introduced him to the club where Ken found a new small solitude. Still, in addition to that, Ken always ran into her to ask for advice, including when Takeru asked him to join the band, which Mariya eagerly encouraged him to accept. That was why inviting her to the festival was the most reasonable thing to do.
Mariya was very precious to Ken. If it wasn't for that accident, she might also become his sister-in-law in the future.
As if she could read his mind, her smile turned slightly melancholic. "I know Osamu will be proud too up there."
The bass sound that was filling the room suddenly stopped in a discordant screech. Ken and Mariya, who were both surprised, snapped their heads to the couch. Yamato was there, looking at them with a stunned expression.
As he realised they were eyeing him curiously, Yamato quickly cleared his throat. "Sorry," he whispered while scratching his head once.
Mariya replied with a tiny smile, shifting her focus back to Ken—only to be interrupted once again by Hikari, who approached them. "Kobayashi-san, should we go to the front stage? I think the boys will perform soon, so I shall take you to the best spot."
"Perfect idea, Hikari-chan! You're such a sweetheart!" Mariya exclaimed. She took a brief second to pat Ken on both his cheeks and Ken cautiously held both of her wrists in case she would dive in for a peck. He didn't mind if they were on the Siesta, but Mariya embarrassed him enough for today. Luckily, she got the hint this time and left him with Hikari, who also waved her boyfriend goodbye.
"Hey."
Ken turned behind. Yamato was already standing with the bass guitar across his back. His expression was slightly unreadable as he gazed into Ken's eyes intensely.
"Do you—"
"Takeru-senpai!" The interruption now came in the form of a call out from the girl who just walked into the room and directly approached Takeru, who was still with Iori.
"Oh, Izumi-chan!" Takeru greeted the light-haired lady warmly. "I heard you're the MC for today's stage, right?"
The girl nodded in excitement. "I came to wish you good luck. Can't wait to see you play, senpai," she said with a smile. "Just one thing to clarify, though: how should I address your band later?"
Takeru reflectively looked at his brother. "Err… I don't know—Neo Knife of Day?"
"No," was a sharp answer from Yamato. Clearly he wanted to keep the name's sanctity even though the band no longer existed. "Your sense of naming is terrible. I'm sad for my future nephews and nieces."
"I'm just joking," Takeru giggled before he motioned his fingers to his chin. He mumbled out loud as a sign that he was thinking, but he turned his head to both Iori and Ken as he was faced with a dead end. "Do you guys have any idea?"
"Hmm…" Iori muttered. "Let's see…"
Without a doubt, Ken too finally joined the search. As he was thinking, he caught a sight from the door that was left open by Izumi. Some students were rushing in the hallway carrying a telescope and some star-shaped lanterns. Ken remembered the chitter-chatter about one class planning to open a celestial-themed café, so that was most probably them conducting some prep.
And perhaps, it was also a fate for them to pass the corridor right when he was thinking because they eventually light up something inside his brain.
"I think…" Ken looked back at his bandmates, counting them as a safety measure even though he perfectly knew there were four of them. "I might have a good name."
.
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ACRUX • MIMOSA • GACRUX • IMAI
THE CRUX.
南十字座 / southern cross
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playlist:
Oye Como Va – Santana
Innuendo – Queen
peace – Taylor Swift
Sweet Child o'Mine – Taken by Trees
Across the Universe – The Beatles
Higher Ground – Red Hot Chili Peppers
bonus track: Across the Universe – Fiona Apple
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note: feliz cumpleaños, sam! i hope you have a wonderful birthday and i know that you're craving for takaishidajouji, so... i tried my best. lol.
special thanks to ma band!au guru kowloons (ao3) who's also the beta reader for this story. let's just lie down under the sky while listening to rhcp.
there's a lot i want to say but i'll probably make a long-ass commentary later on my tumblr (go find earlgreymon! i post a lot of digimon contents there, including some graphics, headcanons, and drabbles). one thing that i want to point out is i sort of use yamato's background from psi where he actually lives in shimane instead in odaiba with hiroaki. also yes, takeru's kouhai on the last part is izumi orimoto—another sam's favourite!
once again, happy birthday sam ️:3