A studio in Kichijoji.
Ichikawa, Sako, and me.
Today is the second practice for this band of ours that still doesn't have a name.
“Hup, hup...”
“I’m telling you, Ichikawa-san, don’t do those stretches in front of Takuto.”
“Eh, why?”
“Why, you ask... *sigh*...”
While that customary (though it’s only the second time) exchange was happening, I was once again chanting sutras toward the wall to avoid looking in Ichikawa's direction.
Once we each finished our preparations, Sako raised her right hand.
“Yes.”
“Yes...?”
What's up?
“Yes, Sako-san!”
...Ah, she was calling on her because she raised her hand.
Ichikawa-san is really getting into the spirit of things.
“There’s a part where I’m unsure about the phrase.”
Saying so, Sako played two patterns for the bass entry phrase at the beginning of the song, counting the beat with her foot.
“Which one do you think is better?”
Sako asked another question without an upward inflection at the end.
“Um...”
Ichikawa had a troubled expression.
“Just listening to the bass alone, it’s a bit... I might not know unless we try playing together. Right, Konuma-kun?”
“The first one perfectly aligns with the start of the drums to create impact. The second one enters slightly late to give the bass more presence,” I explained to Ichikawa, who was tilting her head toward me.
“Wait, you can tell!?”
Ichikawa’s eyes went wide.
“Takuto can tell, obviously.”
“Um, I don’t quite get why Sako-san is acting so smug about it, but... I understand now that I’ve heard Konuma-kun’s explanation.”
Sako puffed out her chest by a fraction of a millimeter, and Ichikawa met her eyes with a defiant, fearless smile.
I thought Ichikawa was quite competitive. But does she really understand?
“Hey, which one is better?”
Sako turned toward me and asked.
I thought for a moment.
“Hmm. If I had to choose, the first one is better, but I feel like there’s no point in giving this song too much impact.”
“I see.”
Sako’s reply was somewhat cold. Wait, is she sulking?
“Can I borrow the bass for a second?”
“Sure.”
I left the drums, went over to Sako, and took the bass.
Whoa, the weight is incredible... This bass is a really expensive one, isn't it?
I cleared my throat and held the bass in position.
“For example.”
Saying that, I started Sako's first phrase using a technique called a ‘slide-in,’ and played until it settled naturally, trying not to stand out too much.
“Something like this, maybe?”
“Whoa...”
Ichikawa clapped her hands.
“Konuma-kun, you really can play...”
Ichikawa leaned forward in admiration. It’s a bit embarrassing to have her make that face so close to me...
“Ichikawa-san.”
Sako suddenly called out to Ichikawa.
“Hm?”
“Takuto *can* play.”
Again, she said it while puffing out her chest by a fraction of a millimeter.
“No, I mean, why are you acting so high and mighty, Sako-san...?”
A question mark practically appeared over Ichikawa’s head.
“Hmph.”
What do you mean ‘hmph,’ Sako-san.
“Um, that ‘twiiiiinn’ thing, what was that?”
Ichikawa faced me and asked.
Calling it ‘twiiiiinn’ sounds a bit silly. It’s cute, so I wish she’d stop.
“This is a technique called a slide-in. You slide your fingers along the string from a slightly lower note toward the first target note. Since I want to prioritize smoothness rather than impact for this song, I thought an arrangement that glides in smoothly would be better than hitting the first note hard.”
“Whoa... that’s amazing, right?”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, it makes me feel like Konuma-kun really is a musician.”
I got flustered by Ichikawa’s sparkling eyes.
“No, if you’re talking about musicians, Ichikawa is—”
“Takuto is a musician.”
Sako cut off what I was about to say and stated it firmly.
“Um, should I just stop pointing it out?”
See, Ichikawa-san is giving a strained smile now...
With Sako’s bassline worries resolved,
“Alright, let’s try playing it together!”
With that, I started the count.
“One, two, three, four...”
It began with the strumming of Ichikawa’s acoustic guitar, followed slightly later by the entry of the drums and bass.
The song proceeded steadily, giving off the exact feeling of ‘Daily Life is Good.’
We finished the performance and took a breath.
“Yeah, I think it was pretty good.”
“It was alright.”
Ichikawa and Sako gave their impressions.
Since it was only the second time, there was still room for growth, but the performance had improved significantly.
It seemed Sako had regained her intuition from when she played bass in her middle school brass band, and she was able to play the phrases smoothly. She must have done a lot of personal practice.
Perhaps because she started dancing in high school, her sense of rhythm was much better than it had been in middle school.
Ichikawa had made the melody I told her over the phone her own. It was worth the embarrassment of that phone call...
My drum phrases were also becoming more solid, and I could feel myself becoming able to do the same things with accurate timing.
“Let’s have a listen for now.”
Nodding, I played the recording of our current performance from my smartphone through the studio speakers.
“Wow... it sounds like one of Konuma-kun’s tracks.”
Ichikawa murmured.
Listening to it again, Ichikawa’s singing was very beautiful with accurate pitch.
I used to think Ichikawa was a person with talent for lyrics and composition, but I realized it’s not just that—she’s simply a good singer to begin with.
“Yeah, it’s well done.”
Sako also looked happy, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.
I agreed with them.
It was well done. If we kept practicing like this, we would surely be able to deliver a performance of exceptionally high quality among the Rock Club by the time Rock On came around.
I nodded to myself, but even so, a thought crossed my mind.
Something is decisively and completely missing from this music.