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[rebel-band]

Track 6. Always Tomorrow

The rain always had a soothing rhythm to Yoo-mi -- regular drumming against the sill, rumble of spring thunder somewhere in the grayish clouds -- but it rarely made him sleepy, rather more likely to venture into another marathon of focused guitar practice. At the moment he was, however, nowhere near a guitar, and stared blankly through the raindrop dotted window in the computer corner of the library, trying to force his brain to work on an essay. The words of course didn't come, at least not in the volume exceeding the minimum 300. Instead he did write down in a notebook a set of new chords to try out at home.

"You're more than welcome to come in tomorrow to use the computer," the librarian's polite yet tired voice broke the silence, and Yoo-mi checked a small pixelated clock on the screen.

He still had some time before the shift today but without a computer there was no way to add anything else to up the grade. "This is for tomorrow. Can I just print it?", he said defeated. The woman nodded, although she glanced at the clock on her way back to the counter.

Yoo-mi quickly gathered his things as the printer spat out short of 2 pages of his homework. This would need to suffice, he wasn't counting on a good score anyway. He apologized for the delay, then quickly shoved the paper into his bag. The librarian waved him a goodbye.

Quick change of shoes and a sheepish stare of two girls from class B in the locker room later, he was heading home, thinking about the first couple of weeks of school.

It was new turf and so new rules. Not wanting to fall into a cliché he had been, he obviously fell into another one. But it was far better to not be liked for being the tough and stand-offish guy than the poor fucking orphan. Another day tomorrow to prove the point.

He didn't really have much time to dwell on the drama that was his class life, and frankly didn't care much for it, as long as it didn't escalate to violence. But so far name calling behind his back was all they ever did. After all, this was a different kind of school than his mid school. A school with kids getting scholarships, playing team sports and in bands, planning festivals, trips, and study groups.

It was tough on Yoo-mi for a different reason. Getting back into the right habit, after almost a year of setting your own rules and schedule, was demanding, especially with a job on top of it. Although, he had to admit Kotarō was a surprisingly flexible boss. Unlike the jobs Yoo-mi had had at 7eleven or with the delivery runs from the fish market, he could choose his own hours at Blackbird and actually got scolded already for overdoing it with the number of shifts per week.

And it's not like Kotarō didn't want to pay for it, he was just genuinely worried about Yoo-mi working himself to an early grave, as he had put it more than once. Which is why they made an agreement he'd never be working Sundays, to give each new school week a fresh, well-rested start.

But what could you do when it was not only the money that was great on the job. It was the music part of the business that he enjoyed the most.

Every other week, Yoo-mi had met new musicians going through Blackbird. He'd helped them set up before gigs, learning the ropes firsthand from technicians or just the guys playing, if theirs was a small indie band. He played music together on sound checks and practice sessions. He learned new tricks from old seasoned bluesmen. Somehow, it didn't matter to anyone where he had come from or who he was, how many years he'd been playing and how he'd first started -- as long as their common language was music, there was no misunderstanding. They treated him like an equal.

Last week, Kate had even asked Yoo-mi to join her band on a demo. After the visit in a studio, he couldn't sleep all night from the excitement. And so five thirty in the morning he'd actually called Kobayashi to thank him for being so stubborn and insisting to meet Mika in Tokyo in the first place.

"I owe you this life." There wasn't a different way to put it.

"You owe it to yourself," came the reply from the old man.

A feeling of relief had washed over Yoo-mi then at the words, like a wave. For the first time he thought that maybe, just maybe, it was true. He deserved to decide on his own terms that this was what he wanted to do with his life.

They kept silent over the line for a while, early morning seagulls singing their song against the wind and waves, and Yoo-mi realised how much he'd actually missed the sound of the sea. He booked a bus ticket for the following Sunday shortly after.

He needed to feel the sand in his toes on the cold empty beach again; to hear the roar of the ice-cold ocean and the ticking of the clock in the warm kitchen. He needed the right people to brace for June ahead.

At this very precise moment, however, he needed to hurry.

Just as he dug out a compact black umbrella from his bag, he noticed Hikaru at the end of the corridor by the door, black gig bag on his back. He shuffled in place, switching the gaze between the phone and the view outside.

Life had a habit of throwing them in each other's way since that not exactly first but definitely more personal encounter in the music room. Yoo-mi wasn't exactly sure what to make of it but to his own surprise, here was another person in his life that he wasn't annoyed by. Maybe because Hikaru wasn't pushy or loud but he still had some nerve.

Like on that Monday after the music room meeting, when Yoo-mi ran into class at the last minute. Hikaru was still busy chatting with the class rep, and that other friend from their group. The clock rang nine and the teacher arrived soon after, and only then Yoo-mi noticed a small packet in a paper envelope on the desk. A handwritten note said "Welcome to Tokyo". There was also a doodle of an angry Godzilla holding a guitar. Inside the envelope was a set of new Gibson strings. The set Hikaru later refused to take back when confronted about it.

Or some days later, when Yoo-mi left the class to, again, eat lunch alone on a bench in the corridor, trying to avoid the unfriendly crowd and finally read the latest YG. He could hear Hikaru's group of friends joke loudly about his mom's stress cooking, and enjoy their time together over food. Then suddenly the fun stopped with loud gasps. At that moment Hikaru walked out of the classroom and handed Yoo-mi a tier of those traditional looking bento boxes filled with food.

"Mom made these to share," he said like it was the most obvious thing on Earth, and sat down by Yoo-mi with a magazine of his own to read. His smile, kind and radiant, voice genuine, even the way he said "mom" not "my mom", made it feel inclusive. Yoo-mi immediately recalled the feeling of home he'd had the first time he sat down at the table in the beach house.

"You grab some too," he offered his own lunch in return. And so they kept the ritual going once a week at least -- a surprising ray of sunlight peeking through otherwise dark clouds of Yoo-mi's class life.

These things took courage, Yoo-mi knew, judging by the sheer number of jaws dropping open and heads peering out the classroom at their sight every time. While he was used to people staring for most of his life, it was admirable for Hikaru to put himself into that weird spotlight willingly. Yet somehow, Yoo-mi had a feeling he actually enjoyed this small rebellion against their class.

"It's not gonna stop anytime soon," he said, finally catching him by the door. Hikaru startled.

"Man, why did I think riding was a great idea today," he groaned hugging his bright purple and orange longboard closer.

Yoo-mi smiled, then handed him the umbrella. "Keep it. Go home. See you tomorrow." The cold and damp air hit him in the face as he opened the door to leave.

"What? Wait!"

He could hear quick steps on the wet gravel and soon Hikaru bumped into him with the umbrella.

"I can't let you walk back in the rain," he protested, juggling the helmet, longboard, bag, and umbrella in his arms. "I live close by, I'll be fine."

"But you're gonna ruin the guitar."

He grimaced at the thought and trod closer to get the gig bag under the umbrella too, almost prodding Yoo-mi in the eye in the process. "It really makes more sense for you to hold it," he grinned apologetically, handing the umbrella back.

Yoo-mi sighed, then checked the time on his phone. "Guess I'm walking you home then."

"Guess you are."

They walked swiftly side by side, two pairs of chucks -- black and red -- peeking from under the umbrella and getting wetter by the minute.

"How's business?" Hikaru asked with the Osaka phrase and a shy smile, and he almost got it right with the pitch.

"So, so," was the standard answer, of course, and Yoo-mi thought how surprisingly accurate it was at this time of his life.

"I should have taken the hard case, I know, never thought it's going to rain that much. And it's just easier to ride with the gig bag. It's lighter," he said.

"It's a bad idea altogether."

"It's fine, I've got good reflexes. And I don't bruise easily," he laughed, "Do you skate?"

"No." Hikaru looked disappointed with the answer. "I used to surf, though."

"That's pretty neat," Hikaru beamed. "Hajima surfs too, he started last summer. But then he broke an arm in August," he glanced sideways biting slightly the right corner of his lower lip.

"Happens to the best," Yoo-mi shrugged, recalling his own bruises and bumps on the steep learning curve.

Maybe he should rebook the bus ticket for Saturday night, he thought suddenly, and then surf straight at dawn. It was May, sure, the ocean's gonna be fucking cold but he could catch some good waves already. Who knows, maybe even beat Murasaki to the first heavies before the season. He smiled at the thought.

Then he caught Hikaru staring at him with a grin. "You really enjoy surfing. Just thinking about it, right?"

He had a keen eye for observing people, Yoo-mi had to give him that.

"Is it better than guitar?"

"Please," Yoo-mi shot him a look, one eyebrow arched. "It's just a different kind of rush."

They walked in silence for a while, then Hikaru drummed fingers against the longboard. "Can I ask you a private question?"

Yoo-mi tightened the grip on the umbrella.

"And you don't have to answer," he added with a gentle smile.

"Fine." But would it be?

"Were you supposed to be a senior this year?"

Ha, so that's what this was about.

"I just thought I'd ask, everyone's dying to know," Hikaru rolled his eyes.

"What's the stakes pot right now for that one?" Yoo-mi asked and, though surprised at first, Hikaru grinned back.

"Almost 2,500 yen."

"Let it rise to 3,000, you bet on mid year, we split the cash."

Hikaru didn't even try to hide the chortle that got out of his mouth.

"I'm serious," Yoo-mi shrugged, grin on his face, "It's easy money."

"Well, tough luck, I'm not betting on any of these," he shook his head with a smile. "So what happened? Did you drop out?"

Yoo-mi ran a hand through his hair and, though the evening was quite cold, he felt a sudden hot flush crawl up his ears. He cleared his throat. "Never really started."

Hikaru's blue eyes widened. "Oh. A ronin year, huh?"

The irony of the term didn't escape him. Waif. Wanderer. Walkout. Exactly who he was. He looked away. "Something like that."

"Must've been nice, less stress with the entry exam."

Not the first one, Yoo-mi thought bitter, and felt a shiver up his right arm. He shook the umbrella to get rid of the feeling.

Hikaru paused in his steps for just a second, then aligned again with Yoo-mi. "Why didn't you attend the opening ceremony?" he asked, dropping the previous subject completely.

This was only slightly less of a mess to talk about. "They didn't let me," Yoo-mi grumbled in reply, shoving a hand into his pocket.

Hikaru titled his head. "The school? Why?"

"Didn't think I'd be a good fit."

He thought of the rejection letter full of niceties, which stated there was more applicants than the school could admit, that some candidates had "stronger personal traits" and "extracurricular credentials", and that a "particular school the student attends is less important than what the student does to develop his strengths" -- all in all, good luck and good riddance.

It was shitload of crap as far as he could tell. His score was good, he knew it. Only his social background wasn't really a picture painted as nicely as they'd like to.

If it weren't for the Black Thunder that was Mika and her quick intervention; the way she openly threatened the school board to send investigative journalists to expose the issue of denying education to someone in a "vulnerable social standing", he wouldn't be able to attend at all. Although he didn't really appreciate her calling him vulnerable, in any sense of the word.

"That's harsh."

"It is what it is," Yoo-mi shrugged. "Someone I know helped out, so, here I am."

"And why at this time? Did you finally join a club?"

Yoo-mi shook his head. "Homework. Needed a change of scenery. And a dictionary." A computer too but that was kind of harder to admit.

"Language barrier?"

"No," Yoo-mi made a face, eyes narrowed, scanning him for mockery. But there was none, his blue eyes open wide with interest at what he was going to say. "I was born in Japan. I just suck at writing. Words in general."

Hikaru smiled. "You're good at guitar, that's just a different medium to say things."

Yoo-mi couldn't agree more.

"You still in the music club, huh?" he pointed with the head to Hikaru's guitar.

"Yea, don't really have anyone else to play with," he chuckled, hugging the longboard closer again.

The tone wasn't calling Yoo-mi out but he felt a strong knot tighten inside his chest. "Shit. Sorry, busy month."

"It's OK," he smiled a weary smile back.

"No, it's not. It's just that...I'm getting a guitar." Why did he even feel the need to explain? "Needed the cash so worked a lot of extra shifts."

Hikaru perked up on the spot. "Electric?"

"Saito 622."

His mouth fell half open. "So modern. That's unusual."

Yoo-mi raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just thought you more of a Jazzmaster or Mustang type of guy," he shrugged.

"Is that what you wanna get yourself?"

"I'm still looking for one I'd like. I may get it for my birthday in October."

"Yours is a Hummingbird, right? You might wanna get another Epiphone for starters."

"We'll see how I'm with money. There's all that stuff you want to buy with it, pedal boards and custom pickups, amps. Never used one of these before so don't even know what I'm looking for. Man, when gear acquisition syndrome hits like that, I envy you having a real job."

"I can ask if they need more help."

"Maybe over the summer. I'm usually so beat after school I can't get my thoughts together, not to mention remembering someone's orders. I don't know how you do it, to be honest, school and work, and pretty okay grades so far."

Yoo-mi sighed, "Not much of a choice really," then looked away.

Hikaru paused for a while. "Why'd you go for a Saito?" he asked, again with a gentle smile.

Why did he?

It was a fucking grey day when he first played it, after the exams at Bad Boss Guitars. The label on its display said "colourful sound". That's what it was like, really. Sparkly and vivid. The strings drew him close with every strum.

"I liked the way it sounded. Couldn't stop thinking about it since," he turned away, suddenly embarrassed with his own words.

"Love at first sight then," Hikaru snickered in reply.

As soon as they reached the third house on the quiet street, he stopped. Yoo-mi looked at the small white building with a red Mitsubishi Colt on the driveway and maple trees along the fence. For a second he wondered if he's going to catch a glimpse of Shanyao at this house, though she and Hikaru didn't look remotely related. Maybe the name was a coincidence after all.

"Do you want to come in?"

With a nervous swallow, Yoo-mi shook his head. "I have work." And shitload of trust issues, he didn't add.

"Right. And mom would't let you out until after dinner. She'd want to adopt you straight away looking like that," he chuckled at Yoo-mi's hair damp with rain, and fixed his own curl clinging to the rim of the glasses, "Got terribly overprotective since I started high school."

Before he could notice Yoo-mi's brows gathering in at the statement, he peeked behind Yoo-mi's back, and groaned. "Oh, Ants! How'd you get outside the fence again."

Yoo-mi turned his back to notice a red and white corgi run towards them, and before he could do anything, muddy paws landed first on Hikaru's then on his own shins in an excited greeting.

Hikaru whined a "Sorry," but Yoo-mi just waved it off, handing him the umbrella, and crouched down to greet the dog too.

"You're a clever boy, aren't you," he patted the completely wet triangle head and the fluffy ears, "Yes you are." The dog yapped, delighted. "He probably dug a hole somewhere along the fence."

Hikaru tilted his head with eyes wide open, "Do you have a dog?"

"Used to live with one for a while. She kept digging her way out to go to the beach," he snickered. "Now there's just this stray cat that keeps coming back to my place."

"I have two."

"Busy house."

"Always is." He pushed the dog through a gate. "Let me know when the guitar's there. Maybe we'll catch up then," he added with a small wave goodbye.

"You should come over," Yoo-mi blurted out before Hikaru stepped out from under the umbrella. He stopped immediately. "I'm not one to break a deal. I'll teach you how to use an amp, if you want."

"Yeah?" Yoo-mi had never seen a smile that big.

"Yea," he smiled too.

And one so contagious.

It took Yoo-mi 45 minutes to walk back home, by which time he felt like he was wading ankle deep in water. He changed quickly, tossed the shoes and the blazer on the radiator in the bathroom, and was down in Blackbird 20 min before his shift to warm himself with a cup of coffee.

Monday evenings were always slow, so Sado appreciated his earlier arrival and some last bit of company before finishing his shift. But then Yoo-mi was left alone in the warm outpost among the storm that was Blackbird with a hot mug and a book for the rest of the day.

Week later, during a Wednesday lunch break, just as Yoo-mi was getting up from his seat to leave the class, he was stopped by Hikaru's whine.

"God I need something sweet, help me out you guys."

It wasn't precisely directed at him as Hikaru's eyes darted from Yoo-mi to Hajima to Motoki, from over a can of cherry Coke that he chugged probably half of in one go as soon as the teacher left the room.

"And the Coke's somehow not enough?" Hajima gave him a disbelieving look, and he whined again.

"Physics drains my brain so hard I could drink a tanker of Coke and still fall from lowered sugar level."

"More likely into a coma," Yoo-mi interrupted him, hovering a 7eleven Dorayaki over his head.

"O, thank God, a chocolate one," he tried grabbing it but Yoo-mi moved it out of reach.

"Lunch first," he replied, making a pause between the words.

Hikaru groaned, looking around for support.

"Don't look at me, I agree completely," Hajima shrugged.

"And I'm not looking for trouble," Motoki laughed, raising both hands up.

"Fine, if you stay," Hikaru looked up at Yoo-mi with a grin, then moved the chair to make space for him.

Yoo-mi looked at the other guys. Hajima smiled and took out his bento box from the bag, while Motoki was clearly trying not to grin himself.

Was this a bet too, Yoo-mi wondered for a second, trying to make him join them for lunch. He sighed.

All four of them sat down comfortably with food. Well, all three of them. Yoo-mi bounced his foot against the floor, and felt his throat dry out in a second.

Where was this going? What do you say? What should you say? Thoughts raced through his head, chased by a wave of unpleasant memories, as eyes darted to the door.

"How's the guitar?"

Hikaru's calm voice from over a magazine he was browsing grounded Yoo-mi firm in present again. His blue eyes smiled with reassurance.

Guitar. That he knew well. That he could talk about. "Good." Yoo-mi let out a quiet exhale. "It's gonna be there in the next two weeks."

"Did you get a new one?"

It felt strange when Hajima asked something other than the usual school related stuff. He held strong eye contact and looked genuinely interested.

"Yes."

"Guitars are expensive, right?" he addressed Hikaru, who simply replied with a theatrical sigh, "Same with baseball gear. Pay and cry, every single time."

"But it must feel good to get a bag of cash like that in hand," Motoki laughed in reply.

Yoo-mi was getting the guitar in installments, nevertheless, he couldn't help but snort at the bag-full-of-cash image. "If you've earned it, yeah."

"Did you learn at school?" Hajima asked. "Ten-chan learned all by himself," he grinned.

Hikaru hid his face behind the magazine but Yoo-mi noticed a blush on his neck.

"I'm self-taught too."

"See? It's nothing special," he appeared back, rolling his eyes.

Hajima just shook his head. "Do you miss Osaka?" he asked Yoo-mi.

"No." And it wasn't a lie. Nothing good ever came out of there.

"Not even the takoyaki?"

"OK, maybe that."

"Yea, they don't make it here that good," Hajima snickered, "I've been once. We had a weekend family trip when I was 12, went to see the Tigers play. Have you ever been?"

Yoo-mi shook his head with a grimace. "Not really a baseball fan."

"I forgot you've been to Koshien already," Motoki addressed Hajima with a mouthful of katsu, and he beamed, clearly happy with the memory of visiting the stadium. "I only ever been to Kansai to visit my great aunt in Amagasaki, and that was frigging dull. Do you know where that is?"

Yoo-mi hesitated for a second, foot tapping in place. "I was born there."

"Really?"

"Haven't been since I was four."

"And I thought you moved a lot," Hajima pointed at Motoki, who simply nodded.

"Born in Iwata, then moved to Saitama, then finally to Tokyo three years ago," he counted on the fingers, "Did you also move because of your dad's job?"

Yoo-mi's expression tightened at the mention of that stereotypical family setup.

"Oh my God, will you look at that!" At exactly that moment, Hikaru choked loudly on a sip of Coke and threw the magazine on the desk towards Motoki, pointing over the text a bit too enthusiastically.

As the guys leaned over it and tried to work out what he meant, Hikaru sent Yoo-mi a small smile.

"What is it?" Motoki finally asked him, fed up with looking for clues.

"There's going to be another Trinity Ruin season."

Motoki rolled eyes at his friend. "Duh, we've known that for 2 months, genius."

Yoo-mi looked at Hikaru who had this innocent smile on his face now. "So...he always so overjoyed about these things?" he asked the guys, playing along, and saw Hikaru nod just ever so slightly, eyes smiling in approval.

"Yea, he's such a geek sometimes, get used to it," Motoki snorted.

"You can't blame me, it's a great series," Hikaru shrugged with a smile.

"Did you watch that special released lately online. I feel like it was just a filler."

"Didn't have Genma in it, it's not the same. I think he's the best addition to the cast really since Maki."

The conversation then moved to some other series, and they were all surprised by Yoo-mi's lack of knowledge of these things. Sure, he's known about Pokemon, Mario or Gundam, mostly from all the crap sold at Donki in Dotombori, but he'd never had a chance to enjoy it and so didn't really care. Guys here, on the other hand, seemed like they could dwell on it for hours, and they completely forgot what they were asking Yoo-mi in the first place.

The diversion wasn't maybe subtle but it worked, and he was genuinely grateful he didn't have to explain himself the first time he'd ever tried to make friends or whatever it was he was doing here.

Not that he ever really could.

"Nice act there," he addressed Hikaru as they were going through the empty classroom during cleaning duty, and he curtsied to Yoo-mi's amusement. "How did you know?"

He pulled at his collar. "I googled how'd you have an official Korean name if you were born here. Sorry."

Yoo-mi crossed arms over the chest and frowned. He never knew anyone who cared so much to be this curious. Tapping foot in place, he decided it wasn't maybe too big of a deal.

"Whatever, don't worry about it," he said, though made a note to search for his own name to see what results come up, just in case.

Hikaru shuffled in place, then made that face of his again, biting the right corner of the lower lip. "I'm sorry he's...gone."

Yoo-mi shot him a look, both eyebrows raised. "Why? Not my fault dad was a dick who bailed."

To his surprise, Hikaru snorted at the words, albeit rather joylessly.

"Sorry," he said again, checking himself, hand scraping over the face. "Jesus, I'm going to make that into a t-shirt. Mine's gone too," he added, as if to apologize for his behaviour, and tried to be casual about it, but the tremble in his voice gave him away, and there was a ghost of pain in his smile. He immediately took the dustpan to empty it to the bin of nothing.

Yoo-mi took in his slouched posture and the empty stare, and felt a painful lump in his throat. Loss, whatever the kind, was never easy to deal with. "Thanks for sticking up for me," he said after a while, and Hikaru just nodded. "You still free Saturday?"

His face immediately relaxed. "Should I bring anything?"

Yoo-mi smiled. "Well tuned strings and attitude."

"Are you two princesses done? 'Cause some of us have a life outside cleaning duty," Suzuki slid into the classroom with a mop. "Set up your lousy date like normal people, on the phone."

Yoo-mi gave her a cold stare.

He also saw Hikaru move a step away from him with a nervous swallow.

"Man, right, I don't have your number," the blue eyes widened and he reached to his pocket for a phone.

Suzuki groaned, and went back to the corridor to drag in a bucket full of water, not waiting for them anymore.

"I'll help," Hikaru rushed to lift it for her, sticking his phone into Yoo-mi's hand.

It was one of these newer smartphones, set in a vinyl phone case in what Yoo-mi thought probably all colours of the rainbow. There were multiple characters from an anime called Hyper Foolish something something, judging by the logo, and a lucky cat phone strap attached to it.

Yoo-mi looked at the new contact page on the screen. It wasn't the first time he's exchanged numbers but there was usually a very clear utilitarian purpose to it. Something you do so your boss can call you or your landlord.

It was the first time he'd had a chance to share his number with...a friend?

He was surprised that out of all words possible his brain so easily fed him exactly that one first to describe what it thought this was between him and that geeky kid over there. Then again, there was accord between them, some unspoken agreement. Like rhythm they both were comfortable playing.

It was probably the closest thing to friendship he'd ever experienced. For most of his life, people were either indifferent or simply hostile towards him. But the longer he stayed in Tokyo, the more people in his life seemed to like him, although he still wasn't used to the feeling of being liked.

Did K. ever really like him?

The question flashed in his mind for a fraction of a second, like that one flickering green neon in Dotonbori. An unwelcome cold shiver followed, Yoo-mi automatically touched the back of the neck, and froze in place.

But then a chime on Hikaru's phone brought him back to life, and the feeling was gone as fast as the memory that had caused it. He wrote down his last name and the digits, then clicked Save.

"Gotta go, before she kills me," he threw a look at Suzuki crossing the floor with a mop and an angry face, then returned the phone. In a couple of seconds, he moved out of her way and out of the classroom without a goodbye.

"Why do you still hang out with him? He's a bad influence," she huffed.

"Please, tell me, what exactly it is that he did wrong? Other than calling everyone out on their bullshit," Tennoko crossed arms over the chest, and she grimaced. "It's not his fault people like to gossip. And he's actually really cool."

"Oh he's soooo cool, he's so great," she mocked.

Tennoko felt his chest tighten as his breath hitched for a second. He braced for a hurtful slur to drop, even if jokingly.

"You sound like such a hopeless younger brother right now, seriously," she threw her head back rolling her eyes.

Tennoko sighed with relief.

"Well, you'd know," he teased back, "Suzuki Natsumi's your sister, right?"

She straightened up and tensed on the spot. "How'd you even..."

"Anyone remotely interested in music knows her. Rumour is, a successful interview with her is a deal maker for any indie band that wants to get out there. She predicts trends with absurd accuracy," he grinned.

"Yes, she's famous for that," Suzuki rolled her eyes again.

"She finished this same school."

"And never even got to university, yet everyone's talking only about her," she pressed her lips into a tight line. "Or of him. Why is it always about the weird things. Why is it that no one ever cares about--"

"Professionalism? Hard work?"

She let out a long, low sigh. "No one is talking about that."

Tennoko smiled at her. "Hello? Best entry score of the year? Captain of the winning mid school team in the prefecture Ekiden championships?"

Suzuki blinked rapidly, and a small blush crawled on her cheeks. "You heard."

"They are talking. You're just tuned to the wrong buzz," he grinned. "What do you say? Give him a chance? You didn't think I was cool, when we met."

"I still don't," she stuck out a tongue in jest, and Tennoko made a face. "Okay, Tomomi likes you so you're not all bad. And you've got good taste in music," she elbowed him to the side.

"So does he. Well, at least I think so."

"Yeah, surf rock and metal, not my style."

Tennoko grinned. "I'm thinking more indie and electronica for some reason."

[rebel-band]

Track 5. Soul So Cynical

There's a conundrum with gossip in that whichever way you approach it, it won't ever be right.

Some choose to ignore it -- just go about their business as usual and don't waste their time with explanations, as people only hear what they want to.

Some choose to address it -- confront the people who are gossiping, as they alert you to a certain perception, which can spread and grow out of proportion if you don’t take action.

That's why you had PR teams, and carefully orchestrated stunts and strategies to fix anything not in line with your image. Tennoko knew that very well from how his uncle battled the media machine ever since he'd made a successful debut on the football field.

But Tennoko always thought if you addressed gossip, if you engaged with that kind of hateful monologue trying to turn it into a dialogue, you justified its existence, and maybe even acknowledged that there was some point to what people said; that you were indeed the bad and ugly truth brewing in their minds. Because, sadly, hardly anyone ever gossiped about virtue.

But if you ignored it, life wasn't really much easier. There were only so many first impressions you could make.

What Ko thought of gossip and first impressions was pretty clear. He didn't give a single...

Fun fact -- with his arrival, Motoki needed to rethink his image again. Because the bad boy label had been inadvertently taken.

And was Ko the baddest of them all or what, according to the gossip.

Rumour had it his parents sent him to Tokyo to some distant relatives as a punishment for acting out and bad grades, so he had to transfer to a new school from God knows where. Tennoko actually had a pretty good idea where that might be but he didn't share it, not even with Hideo, trying not to add any fuel to the proverbial flame.

Besides, Tennoko didn't really believe the rumour true, especially since he actually noticed Ko's name on the entry exam results table when, out of curiosity, he browsed back through photos he'd snapped that day. Ko's was the third best result in math. Would he have taken exams if he had simply transferred? Not likely. Would he have been punished for results like that? Even less so.

It didn't take a genius to notice Ko was great at math, and Tennoko caught himself waiting for him to flash a smug smile he always did as he answered the teachers correctly. It almost made Tennoko jealous, the way he was confident in his skills.

He wasn't what you'd call a typical nerd, though. The smug smile graced his face in PE too when he got praised in individual competition, whenever effort and concentration was required. In group play, Ko was fair and respectful but a team player he was not. A tad too aggressive in basketball, his height the obvious advantage, and not cooperative enough in football, always pushing forward alone.

Teamwork was an entirely different thing with Ko. To Tennoko's surprise, they actually tied in highest test scores in English more than once, and since Mrs Ishikawa had a horrible habit of making top students her aid, they were paired to assist her with making lesson plans and checking homework. At first, it made Tennoko tense and painfully aware of every word he was uttering in his presence. But Ko never once complained about him or the amount of work she put on them both, and he always came prepared, which was new to Tennoko as he was rather used to people slacking off in group work. He even thought Ko's reading materials were a bit too ambitious for high schoolers' tastes.

And so nervousness turned to...anticipation, maybe? Tennoko couldn't quite place the feeling he had at the prospect of working with Ko. Man, but did he feel disappointed if either of them didn't manage to score well enough to be paired together.

For him, it was usually because of grammar, when stress got the better of him, and he slipped with the tenses or prepositions. For Ko, it was the writing assignments and speaking tasks. He was reserved when speaking English, so working in pairs with him was a challenge for most people.

Truth is, he was reserved when speaking in general. After a week, the class even had a bet running if Ko would ever say a sentence in Japanese longer than five words.

His silence and smugness alongside constant disappearance from view during breaks, instead of mingling with classmates, people mostly took for arrogance. One more rumour said he was older than the rest of them, and simply thought everyone too childish and too boring to speak to.

Someone even said, they had seen Ko push a stroller in a park near Nakameguro station in the company of a woman. Yes, a woman, not a girl. She was too young to be his mom so was she his girlfriend? Was this an affair? Was the kid his?

Add to it random band aids over the fingers, a scar inside his right palm, and a sullen gaze of his very dark eyes, you'd get a picture of what mothers usually called a very bad influence. Someone to have only a bad feeling about.

Tennoko felt it too, or rather he felt something. Never before had a guy elicited such a strange mixture of admiration and jealousy in his life.

Sure, Tennoko looked up to Hideo's patience and his fortitude, and quite frankly mooned over him for years now, and he always envied Tomomi his quick wit and charm.

But none of them made such a startling and gut prickling impact in such a short time. None of them were like that drumming inside his tightening chest.

Tennoko always thought of Hideo as the thoughtful leveled head, and Tomomi the unruly fiery heart. But Ko didn't feel like any of that. He felt like visceral instincts. Something untamed about him like an ocean beneath the cold surface. Very, very bad.

And he didn't even like bad guys! Yet here he was obsessing over Ko in his spare time. God, what a disaster.

And it was a problem because nice guys like Hideo might not mind if he's crushing on them hard. But bad guys like Ko… Man, Ko would probably kick his ass in front of the entire class, ha! the entire school for even thinking it. Ko would flip out knowing he...

Jesus, it wasn't a crush! Why did he even need to remind himself that?

And was Ko really a bad guy? Tennoko was having serious doubts.

It all started with the Himawari twins incident.

A senior was mercilessly teasing the two girls from class B one recess. Tennoko overheard it on his way to the library, something about them ever sharing a boyfriend, which was inappropriate in itself, but the guy was also implying they should consider him for a future threesome. He was loud and obnoxious, his mates cheered him on, and the girls tried to get back a phone he took from one of them, God knows why.

Hajima strode their way, ready to intervene as a class rep but at that moment the phone slid across the floor dropped by the senior student when one of the girls simply kicked him in the shin having had enough. It landed some distance away from the scuffle, right by Ko sitting on a bench in the corridor, reading, headphones on his head.

The guy dived for the phone but Ko picked it up first. And just as the senior tried to harass him to give it back, Ko simply stood up.

He was taller by more than a head than the guy, and that alone seemed to drive a message home because the guy took two steps back. As his mates jumped to his side, Ko gave them a look that even from the distance made Tennoko shiver.

He said, "Stop fucking about," making a deliberate pause between each word, as Tennoko learned from the twins later on, and so the seniors retreated.

With them gone, Ko silently handed the phone back to the girls, and then not waiting for any thank yous, disappeared from view and the commotion for the rest of the break.

Tennoko ran into him in the library right after.

The second time he found him in there was also a surprise.

It was lunchtime but before grabbing a bite with Hideo and Tomomi, Tennoko decided to drop by to return Howl's Moving Castle he'd just finished the previous night.

As he fumbled in the bag for the book in a hurry, he bumped into someone coming back from the checkout counter with an armful of titles. A steady grip held him so Tennoko didn't fall but the person dropped the books he was carrying.

"Jesus, I'm sorry, are you OK?" Tennoko asked, picking them up. It seemed a random bunch, really, math and social studies and prose, but he was most surprised to see a sound engineering handbook.

Only then he noticed he'd bumped into Ko.

"My fault," he said pointing to the headphones on, and grabbed the books back.

While leaving, Tennoko saw him sit in the reading corner devouring a book and a clearly home cooked bento.

So the closer Tennoko looked, the more the whole bad guy thing looked like a shtick. A cynical PR stunt almost, Ko letting the rumours run wild for a purpose. All a matter of perspective.

Because last time he checked, bad guys didn't really hang out in the library to avoid people. They didn't stand up to bullies. They didn't score well on English and math tests. They also didn't bring home cooked lunch or strolled with toddlers around a park.

And didn't smell of Mocha. Why on Earth did he smell of Mocha?

The only thing keeping Tennoko somewhat sane was that there was close to zero chance of them interacting outside of classes and cleaning duty altogether, and he was pretty sure the novelty effect would wear off in the coming weeks.

Luckily, the new Crimson Blade was coming out shortly, and he'd be spending a lot of his spare time playing with the guys instead of worrying about misplacing his silly feelings on someone like Ko.

Thank you, God, for video games. A perfect distraction with only pixel worlds and characters to swoon over.

In the meantime, others made the decision for him to avoid the newcomer. Two weeks into the school year, the gossiping didn't end. No one dared to taunt Ko openly but they weren't really subtle about giving him the silent treatment. He was left out from group activities outside school, not invited to their class group chat, and generally singled out as not to be hanged out with.

And it bothered Tennoko, it really did, so he refused to add anything to the conversation whenever it steered into name calling and speculation about Ko's life. It also made him want to check up on him to make sure he's alright. Because Tennoko didn't believe, even with all his aloofness, Ko was not at all affected by their class, well, not on their best behaviour, to put it mildly.

One Friday, as they settled into informal groups during lunch, Tennoko found himself in a mix of some old familiar faces and new classmates, all chatting about the newcomer again.

"I mean, he could at least try to say hi. We're all making friends here. Otherwise it's just rude. What do you think, Hikaru-kun?"

Why would he want to say hi, if you're treating him that way, Tennoko thought but bit his tongue. With a mouthful of onigiri, he just shrugged.

"Whatever, he's just like this sad loner type."

"You don't like guys like that, Suzuki-san?" Motoki made puppy eyes towards the girl, and her short bob swayed as she shook her head.

"I like smart and fun guys." She winked and Motoki beamed.

"He is kind of handsome," added another girl, and Tennoko caught himself stopping mid bite at her words.

"Aiko-chan, you just like foreigners," laughed Suzuki in turn, and Honda shrugged with an innocent smile.

"Is he really Korean though," wondered Hajima, "I mean, his Japanese is normal."

Tennoko opened his mouth for a brief second, then closed it, considering if he should say anything at all. Finally he thought, though a single fact wouldn't really set things straight for Ko, it was better than constant speculation.

"He's from Kansai. Most likely, Osaka."

All eyes in the group turned his way.

He took another bite from his bento, and shrugged. "What? I heard it in his accent."

"Hikaru, you and your perfect pitch, this is brilliant." Motoki laughed out loud and playfully slapped Tennoko over the back.

"You have absolute hearing?"

Tennoko blushed at the sudden excitement and attention around his person, though he was happy it at least drew them off gossiping about Ko.

"Could play anything he heard, even when we were still in elementary." Hajima gave Tennoko, then the rest of them a proud smile. "Too shy to brag about it, right?"

"That is so cool," cheered Honda, a big wide grin on her heart shaped face. "So can you really play anything?"

"Music without notes, yes. But not like any instrument, I'd have to learn to play piano like any of us, really," Tennoko replied, still feeling a bit of a flush in his ears. "I play guitar, used to play violin as a kid."

"So did I. Real tiger mom I have. She stopped nagging me when my teacher said I'm hopeless," she laughed. Tennoko smiled back hoping Aiko wouldn't poke her nose into his reason to quit.

"And the accent thing -- also perfect pitch?" Suzuki asked.

"It helps but I learned that from my mom. She teaches linguistics at Komaba," he replied, "I can tell you, though, that our school chime's in E major, and Lana sings comfortably in C3 to F3."

"So you'll be joining the music club for sure."

"Yup, just need to check if I'd have to take my guitar for practice or if they have a good one here."

"Very particular about his guitars, that guy," Motoki snickered.

Tennoko smiled. "You'd be surprised how different it plays when it's the right one."

"Anyone else joining clubs or teams?" Suzuki asked.

"Baseball team," Hajima made a swing with an invisible bat. "Tryouts are tomorrow."

"Same for the running team. Care to watch, ladies?" Motoki added, shooting a look at Suzuki who beamed at him back.

As the girls giggled and the guys laughed, they noticed Ko enter the classroom and sit in his place beside Tennoko.

Leaning back in the chair, he hid comfortably behind a book, trying to ignore the noise. The group stopped laughing at once. It was almost the end of lunchtime anyway, so Tennoko hoped they'd just return to their seats as usual.

But to his surprise, Suzuki got up from her place and moved to the newcomer, with the eyes of each classmate closely following.

"Hey, Ko-san," she asked, leaning over him with a curious and, much to Motoki's distress, flirty smile, "We were just talking with the guys here about clubs. Aiko-chan and I are joining the drama club. What about you?"

He didn't answer right away but smiled at her from behind the book. It seemed forced, mouth moving to a smile but eyes not reflecting the sentiment.

"Clubs? Not into it."

"And what are you into?" She smiled, not giving up.

Tennoko noticed Hajima step slightly towards Suzuki, just in case.

Ko closed the book and pulled up in his chair forward, not taking eyes of her. "Why don't you try and guess, since you've been making shit up about me anyway."

The whole class went dead silent.

Well, there they had it, more than a five word sentence, Tennoko thought, not without satisfaction.

Suzuki startled with his response first, but did not have to be asked twice to take up the dare.

"Oh, I think you like getting into trouble. I think you got into some real shit in your previous school. You didn't transfer, they expelled you. That's why you're stuck with juniors now, even if you're older than us."

"Suzuki, give it a rest," Hajima tried to ease the tension, but Ko didn't really react, just passed him a single side glance at the remark.

Then he smirked. Suzuki's posture tensed and her nostrils flared.

"Either that, or you're just a fucking nerd. What is this, physics?" she snatched his book, and started browsing frantically.

"You think you're so smart. You think you've got everything figured out about everyone," he smiled, again that forced smile.

Suzuki stomped in place like she needed to find her footing and glared at him, teeth almost gritting, and face red at the cheeks.

"He's into music, Suzuki."

Tennoko was sure he huffed loud enough for everyone to hear. And it worked. They turned around, all including Ko, and looked at him surprised.

"And he is definitely an Osakan," he concluded, putting his bento box neatly back in the bag.

Jesus, was it like dealing with bickering siblings or what? He almost felt a headache coming.

Ko gave him a last stunned, "What-t?" but luckily the bell ended further conversation before it could start.

Suzuki dropped the book back to Ko's desk with a loud slam, and as the others moved back to their seats, Tennoko sent the still puzzled Korean a cautious smile.

Saturday came sunny and almost too warm for April, so warm in fact Tennoko regretted putting on the sweatshirt of their school tracksuit today, but it was pleasant to finally ride the longboard for the first time after winter, even if to the school. He agreed to cheer the guys a bit as they tried to make it to the baseball and running teams respectively. Let's face it, everything was better than keeping company to an eleven year old sister all day, since mom was too busy working at home on some admin work for the uni, what with the influx of new students with the start of April. Hiroyuki would need to just play in the garden by herself.

Besides, Tennoko wanted to check out the music room at school, and Saturday was a good time to do it alone and unbothered. So after going between the race track and the baseball pitch, where he observed for a while how his friends took up the challenge in the spring sun, Tennoko moved back to the cool building and into the music room.

He didn't expect company, and most definitely didn't expect it to be him.

Ko sat on the floor, two guitar cases by his side. He wasn't wearing a uniform, nor the tracksuit but rather faded looking jeans and a black t-shirt that looked like some merchandise for a hipster coffee house.

He was busy around the guitar pegs with...an electric winder. Was he getting the strings off one of the guitars and restringing them onto the other?

"Well, Suzuki was kind of right, you like getting into trouble," Tennoko joked in the door, entirely surprised by his own boldness.

Ko startled and hissed as he pricked his finger on the pointy edge of a string on a peg. He turned to the door with a frown, pushing the winder away from sight, ready for confrontation. Seeing Tennoko, however, he relaxed his tight shoulders and forehead.

Both frozen in place, they eyed each other for a moment, and he realised Ko was waiting to see what he does. Tennoko rolled his eyes. He was self-proclaimed lawful good, but a snitch he was not.

"That one yours?" He pointed with his head towards the case closer to Ko. His face relaxed with visible relief.

"Strings are expensive," he shrugged, and grabbed the winder again.

Tennoko tilted the head and narrowed his eyes. They really weren't. How many sets a month did he need?

"These are a waste. No one uses school guitars," Ko added, as if that was a good excuse.

"Well, I was going to."

"You?" There was a tiny tint of amusement in his voice.

Tennoko drew in a breath and finally stepped inside the room. He set the helmet and the longboard on top of a closest desk, and gestured to Ko for the guitar he was holding. "May I?"

Instrument in hands, he settled himself on a chair opposite his classmate, and after thinking for a bit, played a tune.

Ko watched him closely, arms folded over the chest. With each chord played his eyes got clearly more excited.

"Nice solo," he said after Tennoko was done, "Even more so without the one string."

Here was another one more than five words, Tennoko thought amused. "That's from the Legend of Zelda," he replied, not quite sure if it was a jab on Ko's part.

But he simply shrugged and gestured to get the guitar back. Second string off, he proceeded to the next.

"They won't reach back to the tuning pegs." Tennoko crossed his arms and shook his head. "The scale length is different between your Gibson and this no-brand."

Ko looked up at him, eyebrows raised, then visually measured the fingerboards of both instruments. He scratched his head with a frustrated sigh. "Ah, shit."

"Haste makes waste," Tennoko mocked.

"Add ‘theft doesn't pay’, and I'm gonna fucking punch you." Ko shot him a deadly look but Tennoko didn't flinch, just made a face in reply.

Seeing him unfazed, Ko narrowed his eyes but then got to winding the missing strings back onto the school guitar.

All six in, he drummed fingers against the soundboard. "Guess you know your stuff, though it don't look like you play."

"What, because I'm not all smug and rude?"

Wait, was that a snicker? Tennoko startled with the sound. Did he just make the big bad guy laugh? 

"You think you have everything figured out about everyone." The joke was just lying there, so Tennoko reached for it, echoing Ko's own words, and could see him silently laugh again.

Finally, Ko half-smiled, this time not trying to hide it. Then he took out his own guitar out of the red lined case.

When he struck the first chords, Tennoko grinned without even knowing it. Here was a flagship classic, he thought.

Well broken in medium strings gave it that rich full sound. The guitar looked new but they felt together like a pair of old friends.

The tune was quick as a pulse, loud and punchy, yet surprisingly warm. It was a well rounded draft -- verse, chorus, bridge -- if not yet complete a song.

"This your own, right?"

He nodded with a glint of pride in the eyes.

"What if you'd end it differently?" Tennoko bounced off from his chair and grabbed the no-brand again, tuned it, then replayed the song with a slight change at the end. His rendition felt less stressed, less rushed, at least in his mind.

Ko leaned in listening, then raised one eyebrow. "Perfect pitch, huh?" Tennoko nodded. "Wish I had it."

"You're good the way you play. It makes your music, yours. And believe me, this whole thing sucks when you go to karaoke. Off key singing sounds twice as bad."

Ko tilted his head. "Is that how you knew about Osaka?"

"That's just a geeky party trick with the accents," he cleared his throat, "You obviously been somewhere else lately, my guess is coastal. When did you get to Tokyo?"

"January."

"Well, no wonder you don't sound Tokyoite yet. Osaka-ben is hard to scrape off."

Ko snorted. "I wasn't even trying."

The Gibson still in his lap, he tapped the strings with a smile. "So how did you figure out the music thing?"

Tennoko shrugged. "You had a YG mag in your bag on the first day. The tapes," he wiggled his own fingers with a similar set of band aids, "I figured you play a lot too. The scar's probably from some weird snapped string, right?"

Ko looked into the right palm, then tightened it to a fist. "Yea, sure."

"Plus, that was a sound engineering book yesterday, the only one from our library. I saw you borrow it when I bumped--"

Ko furrowed his brow.

"Sorry about that," Tennoko noticed the sudden change in his face at the mention of yesterday's fight. "Suzuki is just curious, like everyone else, and you..."

"Stand out." There was sudden defiance in his voice.

"Yes." No point denying, Ko was already aware. "This leads to tension, if not...bullying." Tennoko knew he grimaced at the word but hoped Ko didn't notice. "Trust me, you don't want to go down that route."

"I've seen worse," Ko replied dryly.

"It would help if you hanged out with us together once in a while. Suzuki is the type of girl who likes attention, and all eyes are on you now, so..."

"I don't need advice," Ko stopped him, then sent him a tired but good-natured smile. "I also don't really need friends."

Tennoko smiled back cordially.

"Right," he composed himself and looked at the guitar Ko packed into his case, "You just need new strings," he added, a note to self.

Hideo's loud, "Ten-chan, you still here?" came as a relief, even though Tennoko was aware the affectionate nickname drew a light curl on Ko's lips. He decided to ignore it for now, maybe freak out about it in the safety of his own four walls.

"How did you do?"

Hajima raised a triumphant fist into the air. "Made it."

"Of course you have," a warm proud smile slid onto his face.

"Everything OK?" he asked, noticing the silence between them in the room.

Ko clicked his guitar case shut and put it on his back. "I was just leaving."

"Ko-kun," Hajima nodded as Ko passed him in the door.

"Class rep," he answered curtly.

"See you Monday," yelled Tennoko, placing the school guitar back in its own case.

The Korean just waved without turning around.

When cleaning duty was over for him Monday, Tennoko said goodbye to Takahashi he'd been partnered with, then made his way to the music room for an introductory music club meeting.

Hideo and Tomomi also had field practice, so they agreed to meet after outside the gate, grab some snacks, and head out to Motoki's to study.

As introductions go, thankfully, the meeting wasn't too stressful. It turned out one of the twins, Hinata, played guitar too, though her choice was classical. The music club consisted also of a second-year violinist, a 3 piece brass and reed section, and a very shy glockenspiel player. And of course there was also the club lead, senior student and professional pianist in the making, Koizumi Rui. Tennoko remembered him from their opening ceremony -- he was the student council president who welcomed the juniors in the auditorium alongside the principal.

Their main job would be to produce the music for the drama club's activities during the annual school festival and Christmas event, and during the opening and graduation ceremonies, he informed. They'd be mostly unsupervised, as Mrs Takayama, the music club supervisor, for years now offered the creative freedom to explore their own art direction, and if they needed support, Koizumi was actually their go to person.

It drew an excited chuckle from the group, and made Tennoko's heart skip a surprising hot beat. But that was for another reason entirely.

The way he said, "Feel free to reach out for anything you need," looking directly at him with that smile left Tennoko wondering if music club activities was all he meant.

Dusk was falling slowly over the school building when the music club parted but it was still warm with the windows open in the locker room. As Tennoko changed shoes and headed out towards the exit through the empty corridor, he heard someone call his name. It was Ko.

Within reach, he handed him a paper envelope. Tennoko recognized it instantly, and frowned.

"I can't accept it. It's too expensive," Ko said.

Tennoko rolled his eyes, "It's not a big deal, just a welcome gift."

"I'll have to repay, and I can't now" He was determined to give it back, hand outstretched firmly towards Tennoko with the small packet but voice oddly without power.

Who would have thought him so old fashioned and care about a thank you gift in return, Tennoko thought. He turned away and proceeded to the exit.

Ko startled at first, but then trailed behind him through the door. "I'm serious."

"You're being ridiculous," Tennoko turned around.

Ko outstretched the hand again but didn't face Tennoko at all. With a blank look he stared to the side. His mouth was turned down and so were his shoulders.

Tennoko felt sorry for him, after all, he was waiting all that time after class ended to confront him.

"Look, can we just, I don't know, play together instead?" he offered.

Ko shuffled in place and looked up at him.

"Or just hang out? We're getting some snacks with the guys and going to study. Which will probably just turn into a video game match anyway," Tennoko chuckled and gestured to Hajima and Motoki curiously observing them through the school gate in the distance. "You want to join?"

Ko exhaled loudly. "I can't." He seemed frustrated with his own words.

Tennoko sighed. "Right." Why did he bother at all.

"Not today. I'm busy. Working," he added, one foot tapping, hesitant for a reaction.

"Oh. Part time job?"

He nodded.

The Mocha, the t-shirt from Saturday, him not joining club activities after school. It all clicked into place -- he was working in a coffee house.

"That's cool," Tennoko smiled, "Let me know when you can. Music club's Mondays, and I've got cram school Thursdays but other than that my week's pretty empty. It's a deal, yeah?"

Ko adjusted the strap of his bag over the shoulder and wrinkled his forehead. Finally, he pushed hair out of his face and the envelope back into his bag.

"Yea."

"Catch you later then." With a grin Tennoko ran towards his friends.

"The hell was that about?" Tomomi gestured with arms and eyes wide open.

Tennoko grinned again. "We're going to play." He twirled to give Ko a small wave.

Hideo raised his eyebrows and shot him an incredulous look. "Guitars?"

"Do I look like I mean baseball?"

[rebel-band]

Track 4. Soul, Meet Body

Meguro was in perfect bloom this April, and even the most common neighborhood places were insta worthy when the cherry trees blissfully rained their petals over heads of passers-by with every gust of the warm wind. Tourists flooded the otherwise silent riverbanks, walking along the promenade in hope of a memorable photo angle, and locals hurried through narrow alleyways away from the buzzing crowd into the everyday, sweeping the petals into fragile floral flurries with each step.

The scenery was gorgeous, something you discovered anew and fell in love with each year, and yet, standing in front of the new school, Tennoko could hardly enjoy the view, with thoughts racing through his head like buses at a busy terminal.

Was he too early? God, he was, definitely making a fool of himself just standing there in front of the gate. He should have just met them on the way. But it was harder to coordinate their commute now that Hideo had moved and Tomomi's wasn't really en route to the new school anymore. They'd figure it out eventually, he was sure, but for now he was entirely on his own, a nervous gnawing in his chest at the sight of other students.

They were already going towards the building, some of them maybe even his new classmates, and he tried to look oh so casual and even sent some of them an approachable smile but was pretty sure none of it was working, and they'd all just remember him as the tall awkward guy. He sighed, stomach turning another flip as he looked at the unknown faces around.

The genes had finally caught up with him this year and fast, and Tennoko felt that even over the short spring break he had grown taller again. He was overtaking Hideo in height now, and he had outgrown Tomomi already. Whatever medically accurate reassurance he got that it was all perfectly normal at his age, or encouragement that he could make a great midfielder with the height, did not make it any less of a surprise. He felt awkward in this new body changing shape and size whether he liked it or not, all lanky limbs and cracking voice and constant appetite.

He tugged at the sleeves of the uniform and smoothed the blazer, then adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag again.

At least the new uniform was better than the middle school one. If anything, the navy blazer and the tie made him feel a bit more mature and well put together than the fluffy cream cardigan they had to wear in middle school. Because that thing had just made him look like a frigging Mareep, what with his face round and still a bit childish, and a single curl always in front of his side swept bangs.

The navy blue also made his eyes stand out, and that was pretty much the only feature he liked about himself at this time of his life.

Nine was approaching fast and the guys were nowhere in sight. He looked around again, nervously glancing at his phone, hoping that he wouldn't need to brave the auditorium for the opening ceremony alone. Finally, Tennoko spotted Hajima running from across the street, and sighed with relief.

"You're late," he narrowed his eyes as Hideo's face widened in a grin at his sight.

His uniform, tie and shirt were perfectly pressed but his bag was unzipped, the syllabus and notebooks peeking out, and his hair was still a bit damp, dark brown streaks clinging to his forehead.

Tennoko forced himself not to scruff it into place.

"I knew you'd look cute in the new uniform," Hajima swallowed another grin eyeing him.

"Wasn't exactly going for cute but thanks," Tennoko rolled his eyes. There was no way to be angry at Hideo, not really, his freckles and smile be damned.

"What were you going for?"

"Brooding intellectual," he fixed his glasses on the nose and Hajima snorted.

"First class geek you mean," there was a laugh from behind, and Tennoko stuttered forwards with a quick push of an elbow to his side.

"Sure, right back at you," he snickered, noticing a new Crimson Blade key chain hanging from the zipper on his friend's school bag as Motoki Tomomi jumped from behind to say hello. He grinned and exchanged a bro handshake with Hideo.

"Where's your tie?" Tennoko asked.

"Thought I'd upgrade my image a bit, you know. The ladies man, a bit of a bad boy," he wiggled his eyebrows and propped the collar of his shirt up. With the short hair and the cheeky grin he had a sort of rogue charm around him.

"You're going to get told off on the first day. Again," Tennoko sighed.

"Don't kill my vibe, Hikaru," he replied, crossing his arms. "Can you believe it though, same school. We made it," he looked at them, then at the building behind their backs.

"Same class too," Hajima smiled, looking at Tennoko.

"Three more years stuck together, what a nightmare," Tennoko grinned at them both.

They all chortled.

As a pair of girls passed them hurrying towards the school, Motoki sighed, "Oh dear gods, please let there be fine girls in our class."

Hideo just rolled his eyes, too polite to join in on that kind of wishful thinking, and Tennoko shook his head.

"What?" Tomomi shrugged "I'm over that breakup and ready for something new, aren't you?"

Hajima made a face and ran a hand through his hair. "Just make sure you don't screw it up too fast or you'll be awkwardly stuck with her for the rest of high school," he said and Motoki mouthed fuck off in response with the politest of smiles. "What about you?" Hideo asked.

"Relationships with me never work out, you guys know that," Tennoko pulled the collar of his shirt as he tried laughing it off.

"Only 'cause they don't start, idiot," Tomomi shook his head, and he might have called him names but there was tenderness to it and concern in his voice.

"Well, I'm sure you guys will do just fine," Tennoko smiled and scruffed their heads in an affectionate manner.

Then he wrapped an arm around their backs and took a selfie of all three of them grinning in the new uniform. It came out perfect.

Already on their way, he sent it to a family group chat. Mom replied with three clapping hands emoji. The uncles responded too.

"Kick ass, kid" Naota said, obligatory football emoji at the end.

"Just not literally," Satoshi added, and Tennoko snickered imagining his strict expression.

The heart and the head, age old feud between these two. One Tennoko was partial to in his own life as well.

He took another look at the photo, then at Tomomi and Hideo's backs as they paved the way towards the auditorium chatting and joking, and he felt sunshine creep into his heart, dispelling any doubt he'd had on this first day of school.

Here they were -- the soul to his body.

Whatever things they'd discover in this new adventure, he was sure they would be there for him, always. Helping him navigate through life, one crisis at a time.

Around the third day of the school year the class has finally started to come together and feel a bit more relaxed, healthy buzzing and laughing during breaks a good sign things were going well with getting to know each other.

Though Tennoko had worried so many times over the spring break that starting relations with the new classmates would be uncomfortable to say the least, surprisingly, it wasn't a disaster at all.

Somehow the guys already figured out that he was indeed the nephew of Japan's best shooter, which earned him the usual bragging rights, though he knew he had yet to prove himself during a sparring match in PE -- as if the fact that his uncle represented Japan on the national team carried over to his own skills in football. Luckily, he'd had his share of practice and love for it so he wasn't too worried about tarnishing the family name and honour.

His long lasting friendship with Hideo meant he was also comfortable discussing baseball with the guys, having watched countless games with Hajima and listened to him explain the rules and gameplay, and having seen him play practically since they were kids.

And his love of gaming and all things geek came in handy too because in this day and age who didn't play video games, read comics, and followed heroes across the big screen each year anyway.

He didn't have time yet to hang out much with the girls but was positively thrilled to learn that some of them were also going to see Lana this summer, so they already made plans to attend the concert together. Because as much as Hideo and Tomomi didn't mind his affinity for angsty pop divas in glitter gowns, they weren't really keen to join him on such a gig wearing a flower crown.

They were waiting for the homeroom to start on the first period that day, and Tennoko spaced out a little taking in the buzz and feeling surprisingly at ease in the new surroundings.

He looked to his right. The way people were seated, there was an empty student desk beside him. He wondered if the class was going to be one short, and if so why there was still an extra seat left.

"I heard we were going to get a foreigner in class. I guess that was just rubbish," laughed a girl in a group in the front row.

As the homeroom teacher Mr. Yamashita rolled in, his heavy frame almost too big for the doorway, all students dispersed to their seats and gossip ceased.

"There was a misunderstanding with the roster of students but we have figured things out now. Please join us," from the desk he waved at the door, and as it slid open, the class went even more silent at the sight of the newcomer.

He was all broad shoulders and confident walk, straight back, and chest out like a shield once he stood in front of the whole class. His mid length hair was tied up into a half ponytail, and his face was lightly sun-kissed as if it still had some summer tan left from last year. Though he didn't say anything yet, he already had an expression of someone annoyed with the situation, brows pulled in and mouth set into a tight line. The cuffs of his blazer were turned up. To say he was tall was an understatement. He looked like he was going to outgrow the uniform any second.

"Please welcome your fellow student, Ko-kun," Yamashita-sensei read out from the updated roster as the guy customarily scribbled his name on the blackboard.

To everyone's surprise, he wrote it in katakana and Korean side by side. Someone let out a barely audible gasp.

"Ko Yoo-mi. Nice to meet you," he didn't bow, just introduced himself in fluent Japanese in a melodic yet kind of harsh voice, which made Tennoko wonder at his accent.

"Take a seat, Ko-kun," the teacher said, and suddenly, all eyes in the class on the single empty chair, Tennoko realised he was going to have company after all.

He swallowed nervously.

"You've come to know each other a bit so we'll be voting for a class representative today," the teacher addressed the whole class as if the arrival of a new student was no reason enough to disrupt his usual lesson plan. "Volunteers write your names on the sheets. Motoki, no leaning in the chair!"

As the newcomer placed his shoulder bag by the desk, and unzipped it to take out a notebook, Tennoko noticed what he thought looked like the newest issue of Young Guitar magazine peeking through between books.

Just this moment, the stranger sent him a do you mind kind of look, his eyes so dark they looked almost black, and Tennoko startled.

As the day passed, he noticed the newcomer avoided any sort of interaction with others during breaks, conveniently leaving the classroom to do his own thing. During lunchtime the guy was nowhere to be seen, which fueled the gossip even more. At the end of the day, when they changed their shoes in the locker room and walked in groups to get some ramen or to the arcade, the whole class was talking about one thing only -- the Korean.

[rebel-band]

Track 3. Wednesday Night Blues

The faded blue shade of his middle school uniform, or what was now left of it, had always given Yoo-mi a sharp pressing feeling in his stomach, cold as a weather front moving swiftly to bring thunderstorms.

The trousers he outgrew already in August so they stayed behind at the beach house.

The polo, slashed and stained, rested probably in a dumpster some 600 km away across Japan. He was left with a once oversize cardigan, now quite literally, a painfully uncomfortable burden on his shoulders. A last reminder of when things went to shit.

"Are you alright?" Mika greeted him outside the school gate with eyebrows raised at Yoo-mi's hunched pose and pained face expression.

"It's this damn thing," he tugged at the buttons and the scruffy fabric at his chest, "I can barely breathe in it."

He suddenly got an urge to just get it off. Middle of the street, right in front of the school, he wiggled out of the sweater, tied it around his waist, and put the parka back onto the white shirt. A pair of girls leaving the school yard this moment gasped at the sight.

"Well looks like you've grown quite a bit since last wearing it," Mika gave him a fond smile.

"Should have just gone without it in the first place," he grumbled, brows furrowed. He took a side glance at another wave of students impeccably dressed in winter school uniforms curiously peeking at him while leaving from the exam.

"You know how it is, keeping up appearances. Makes for brownie points if you show the principal and teachers you've been sooo into your old school."

"That's the thing, I wasn't."

If anything, he was glad he wouldn't need to wear it ever again.

"Why are you even here?" he asked.

Yamaguchi's boxy black Honda was parked just opposite the street.

"Oh, I just had a doctor's appointment nearby," Mika patted her belly with a smile.

You couldn't really tell Mika was pregnant yet, and the oversize clothes she liked wearing weren't helping. Yoo-mi was pretty sure that apart from the grey hoodie she tended to borrow from her husband, it was also Kotarō's flannel she was sporting underneath it today, only the slim quilted waistcoat and the long skirt unmistakably hers in this outfit of the day.

"Should you really be drinking that?" he shot a look at a black paper cup with the Blackbird logo she was holding.

"Hush, one real one a day is fine. Kotarō found the best decaf he could for me, but it still tastes a bit ugh," she made a small whine.

She then rummaged in her shopper bag with one hand. "Here you go," she said and tossed him a little red package. It said, With love and appreciation in a faintly tacky font.

"What's this?"

"Obligatory chocolate. It's Valentine's today, silly."

Was it? For all he cared, it was a Wednesday like any other but he was grateful for the carbs, suddenly aware of the mental effort after the exams.

"How'd it go?"

"So, so. Math was easy, probably bombed Japanese," he shrugged, half of the chocolate already in his mouth.

"Not one for lofty words, I hear ya," she laughed.

"Can you drop me back to work? I'm late already."

"Nope."

"Fine, I'll walk."

"No, I mean, you're not going to work, Sado is covering your shift," she grabbed him by the sleeve.

Yoo-mi made a face at her mentioning the engineering student who worked part time at Blackbird, as did Kate.

"I'm taking you out for a treat," she said, seeing his frown, then added, "Their idea."

She quickly dialed a number on her phone and then forced it to his hand. Yoo-mi heard the line connect almost instantly as if someone had waited.

"Yumi, I'm so proud of you," a woman's voice called maybe a bit too loud and too close to the receiver on the other end.

He smiled.

"Haven't done anything yet. We'll see in a month."

"What does he mean he hasn't done anything!" he heard another voice grumble in the background.

"He there?" Yoo-mi asked and waited as the woman handed over the receiver. "There. I tried," he said.

"Well you had better," Kobayashi's voice was another grumpy grumble. "Good work, Ko," he added, nevertheless.

"Like I said, give it a month," Yoo-mi corrected.

"Good work," the man repeated with feeling before hanging up.

"Where are we going?" Yoo-mi eyed Mika, as she got them into heavier traffic, muttering swear words when a Prius suddenly changed lanes too close to their Honda.

"First, curry, then -- a surprise. Don't give me that look! I swear you're gonna love it," she grinned at Yoo-mi.

With a sigh he looked out the window.

He couldn't exactly remember the last time he was being driven around in the passenger seat but he could recall the Benz having more legroom than Mika's kei car. Then again, he was much taller now.

They passed Shibuya and Roppongi over on the motorway, then circled behind the Imperial Palace on the C1. After around 20 minutes of driving, Mika found a parking place, and from there they walked towards a street lit with neons inviting patrons to wine and dine.

GoGo Curry was Mika's choice for today, and a black Gorilla sculpture beaconing them inside with a thumbs up seemed to approve.

The meal was more than good, it was perfect for the icy weather and the mood today, real comfort food for a done in soul. Yoo-mi made a mental note to stop by a konbini and get some cubes to cook himself a curry next week too.

"Not bad today, hm?" Somehow he knew Mika wasn't really meaning to talk about the food.

He tapped the already empty plate with a spoon, and after a while mumbled, "They were all staring, I know it."

"At their exam sheets," Mika tried to dismiss the worried thought from his mind but he wasn't really listening.

"And they all knew each other, came with...someone."

"That's not true. There are students from different schools attending the same exam, you know that,"  she said, "They don't all know each other. Every one of them as freaked out as you were about it. And besides, I thought you didn't really like company," she teased.

"And I thought it was none of your business what I liked," he snapped.

Seeing her cringe, Yoo-mi bit his lip. He bumped a rolled fist into the tabletop lightly. "Sorry."

Mika wasn't really angry but appreciated the apology.

"I thought the same thing at my exams. It's hard being the outsider," she replied. "Then it turned out, when I asked my mates, none of them really remembered me from the day.

"You may have met your future classmates, who knows, but the impression is not a given. You're gonna have to what--?"

Yoo-mi rolled his eyes. There it was, the damn resemblance.

"Work on it," he replied.

"That's right, work on it when you get in," Mika nodded her head.

"If I get in," he corrected.

"Tell you what," she leaned in to him over the table, "You don't get in, I let you name my kid." A wide grin spread on her face.

Yoo-mi swallowed. He didn't know what terrified him more this very second -- the fact she was not joking, the fact she was so sure he would succeed, or maybe the fact that Kotarō would probably kill him, were he to take that dare.

"Not helping," he groaned and laid his head on the table. He noticed her phone laying about and finally remembered his own in the inner pocket of the parka. There was no point having it in the exam room, what with the school's policy. He turned it on again now.

"By the way, this came in for you today," she handed him an envelope with an official looking seal while he was looking at several missed calls from the lawyer.

"Sorry, a lot of your post will most likely end up in the café, the postman hardly ever gets it straight to the flat."

It was fine. He never got any post before.

Phone still in hand, he took the envelope but first opened the photo attachment he noticed the lawyer sent in an email. He drew in a breath at the sight.

It was the residency card. His photo, his name stated on the laminated plastic.

The vibrating phone snapped him back from the surprise. It was Hikaru calling again.

"Great news, Ko-kun," she greeted. "Managed to snatch you a resident card. There was a ton of digging and back and forths, turns out you never had one other than the one registered in the orphanage, long expired now. Long story short, it was a mess. But it's done." She sounded accomplished, smug almost. Yoo-mi could see her grin with the phone to her ear.

"Sorry I had to take it but they still need to register your new address on it in the ward office. I'll drop by to hand it over when that battle's won."

"Massive thanks," he could only say in return, full of relief. You had to hand it to her, she did not waste her time around the paperwork.

"Don't mention it," she giggled at the Osakan phrase he slipped in. "In the meantime, I've sent you your family registry. You've never seen it, right?"

"No," he swallowed, looking at the envelope addressed to him, heart suddenly beating faster.

"Well, there's no reason for you not to have it. Just..." she paused for a second, Yoo-mi fearing what she might say. "Talk to me, or Mika, about it when you feel like it, yeah?"

What's to talk about, he thought dryly to himself.

"I'll be sure to think about it," he answered, voice flat with no conviction.

She only sighed in response at the gentle Osakan refusal.

"Fingers crossed for the exams. I'll see you soon," she added and dropped the call.

He stared at the envelope tapping his foot and then noticed Mika give him a concerned look.

"Well, gotta go, preggo bladder calling," she suddenly raised from the booth towards the toilet placing a hand on his shoulder as she dismissed herself. With her gone, he tore the envelope open.

The koseki was a black and white sheet of soulless columns and rows.

He never cared for the "Father N.N." but his heart skipped a beat seeing her name on paper.

Ko Hae-ju. Deceased.

Very much so, he thought, something tight in his throat and chest like a fist ready to strike all of a sudden.

God, they didn't even tell him where she was buried.

Running from the memory, he moved the gaze down onto another row.

Offspring, it said formally.

And there he was.

Or rather, there they were. Two rows, one date.

He folded the paper in half. It was too much for one day already.

Mika found him sitting already dressed in the parka, hands in pockets, looking blankly at the exit.

"We can go, right" it wasn't really a question, he just stood up and moved to the door. "Thanks for the meal, I'll pay you back next month."

"No one's paying no one back," she fussed. "Wait, what about the surprise?"

Yoo-mi didn't answer. He was entirely through with surprises, through with this day.

Without taking a look back at Mika he stomped out of the restaurant and dashed through the street.

He knew he could easily lose her even if it wasn't too crowded like today, even if it wasn't the neighbourhood he had known; he had done that before. He wasn't quite running yet but the anger boiling under his heart was the perfect propeller helping him keep a pace as swift as the blood pumping in his ears. His chucks made a crushing sound as they gritted on the gravel on what must have been a slippery sidewalk beneath.

The crouching evening was sapping the last light of the winter day, and with every minute Yoo-mi felt like it drank all the warmth out of his body as well. The world turned frigid gray with the looming night.

Then, in a mere second, it also turned upside down.

He was thrown off balance on a patch of ice, and desperately tried to remember what it's like to keep calm skidding a surfboard over a riptide to avoid grubbing face first into a wave. But then his legs caught into something and gave in, and there was no way to keep steady. He landed head down on his back on the icy pavement with a thud and a racing heart.

That fucking thing.

That piece of shit rag. That goddamn fucking blue!

He growled and with a hard pull got the tangled blue sweater out from between his legs. His head hit the ice again.

Dark grey clouds were hanging overhead the grey Tokyo skyscrapers as he looked up into the sky right there on the grey pavement. He winced and silently cursed his drab life. Life distinctively void of colour but for the damn blue.

He closed his eyes for a brief second. He needed to get up, there was enough of staring done at him today.

But the street was really empty and no one had noticed. And truth be told, him laying on the floor wasn't even the strangest sight around. Because that was explicitly reserved for what he saw upside down in the nearest fancy storefront.

There was a grand piano and a young man.

He was playing and was, too put it mildly, seriously out of place.

Yoo-mi scooped himself up to a sit hardly taking his eyes off.

He had hair dyed faded blue, and a handsome profile. His movements on the black and white keys were pleasant to watch -- like a calm before the storm.

He wore a purple hooded sweatshirt embroidered with a bright flashy tiger under a blue denim jacket, black rugged jeans on his legs paired with some showy brand sneakers.

A Starbucks takeaway cup stood on the floor at the side of the piano bench. He must have placed it before sitting down.

He looked so offbeat, such a contrast with the classic grandeur of the black instrument, and yet somehow the man and the piano fit like a glove.

Yoo-mi couldn't really hear what he was playing through the traffic and the thick window pane but he was pretty sure it was no cover. The determination on the man's face was more than what you'd see when simply re-playing someone else's composition.

Finally, realising he was being watched, the young man tilted his head to the side, and sent Yoo-mi a flirty smile.

"Not nice, running out on a pregnant chick like that," Mika smacked Yoo-mi on the head with her scarf. It pulled him out of thoughts just in time for the stranger at the piano to not notice what Yoo-mi was sure to be his bewildered if not a slightly blushed face.

"Great landing by the way, saw from the end of the street. Very majestic," she teased as he scrambled to his feet. She stood there, arms crossed over the chest.

"You done?" he snapped.

Mika narrowed her eyes and made a low rumbly noise, like she just swallowed the thing she was meaning to say. Instead, she started walking.

"At least you chose the right direction, come on," she hurried him trying not to sound flustered.

Yoo-mi exhaled and before moving took a sneaky side glance at the storefront again. But the man was gone, and the only blue left in sight was the cardigan in Yoo-mi's hand. He threw it away to the closest bin.

"How'd you even catch up?" Yoo-mi asked.

"Please, a runaway won't ever outrun a runaway," Mika said like she really meant it, and oh boy, instant chills over his right arm and neck, did he fucking hope she was wrong.

Trailing by her side, he looked around, and only then noticed that the street was filled with storefronts similar to the one he had just seen. It was full of showrooms for musical instruments, new and used alike.

"Never been to Ochanomizu, I see," Mika grinned at his wide open eyes.

He looked around, head spinning from store banner to store banner, so she just dragged him by the sleeve into the second shop on the left. Bad Boss Guitars it was called, and Mika greeted the owner and chatted away casually like with a good friend.

"Surprise," she gestured around at the rows upon rows of stands and wall hangers filled with guitars of every size, shape, and brand Yoo-mi could think of.

He stood by the door, hand at his mouth, clearly failing at keeping himself from shifting from foot to the other in place.

"Can I look?" he asked so fast the words almost fused together, then shot Mika and then the owner a hungry glance.

"Look, touch, play. All you want, kiddo," Mika grinned again.

His hand went from covering the mouth to covering the eyes for a brief second, then a smile curled on his lips, and straight off he handed her the parka to spring in between the stalls.

Mika took a stool her friend offered, and was meaning to simply continue reading the Secrets of Raising the Happiest Kids she had picked up from a bookstore some time ago, while Yoo-mi enjoyed his time around the shop.

But then, with a smile, she settled on watching him instead.

[rebel-band]

Track 2. Here on the Starting Line

At 7.38 in the morning a train woke Yoo-mi up from a rather jittery and watchful sleep.

It was always going to be rough first nights, he knew, as he adjusted to the sounds of the new surroundings. But all things considered, he felt good. Laying in the futon he reached to his phone to see an unread message from yesterday written all caps.

"LET ME KNOW WHEB YOU GET THE RE."

He smirked. That old man will never learn to use the phone.

"I'm here. She's nice," he sent a text in reply, and tossing the phone to the side, looked at the stack of papers Mika handed him yesterday. He still had some time to have a look.

It was the first tenancy agreement he'd ever had in his hands but from what he'd learned, googling all things that seemed unclear, it was pretty standard. Minus maybe one thing -- Mika didn't include the rent payable. Instead of the monthly sum, a simple "n/a" occupied the row.

Yoo-mi frowned at the sight. She had better had made a mistake here. He's been on charity long enough, this was supposed to be different.

It was a contract for an indefinite time but at least the notice period was only two weeks. Long enough to plan a getaway, not long enough for someone to make him change his mind.

Toothbrush in hand, he rummaged through the kitchen cabinet taking mental inventory of the items at hand. Two pots with lids, a frying pan and a small square one for tamagoyaki, a matching set of two coffee mugs and a bunch of mismatched Muji and Ikea plates, bowls, and cutlery were more than enough. It would be nice to have a rice cooker for once, he smiled at the thought, but all in all it wasn't necessary for when he stayed.

If he stayed, Yoo-mi reminded himself.

He pulled a basic t-shirt on, jeans, and a black hoodie on top, specifically to have a place to keep his hands.

He skipped the onigiri for breakfast, this time going for a katsu and yakisoba sandwich. It wasn't the best, he liked the ones from 7eleven better, but the carb on carb combo at least would keep him sated until he finished the walk he had planned to get to know the hood today.

Quarter to nine, he decided there's no point stalling anymore. Since he'd heard the shutters pull up outside already, with two boxes from the kitchen heavy in his hands and the envelope with documents rolled into the pocket of his parka, he slowly braved the staircase. The cold morning wind rustled his hair.

It was warm in the coffee house, and he was greeted with the smell of ground beans as he maneuvered in with the boxes. The cafe seemed bigger again today in the light coming through the giant front window, and felt fresh and modern with the whitewashed brick and black steel details around.

The grinder was working so Mika didn't notice him from behind the counter at first. She also seemed occupied with doing something close to the floor, occasionally disappearing low behind the bar.

"A, good morning. You didn't have to yourself," she gestured in embarrassment at the boxes as she finally turned to face him.

"It's fine. Where to?" he asked, looking around.

"Just here by the counter. Kotarō is in the car."

He placed the boxes by the wall between the counter and one of the tables.

"Hi."

Out of the employee door a toddler ran up to Yoo-mi and looked at him leaning from behind the boxes, as if playing hide and seek. She was barely sticking out from behind the cardboard hideout, curiously watching his reaction.

"Hi yourself," he answered, a bit surprised. "What's your name?"

"Mei," she said, a row of pearly baby teeth exposed in a grin. "Are you a big brother?"

Mika chuckled. "This is our daughter. Sorry, we're teaching her about family. She asks everyone around now."

Yoo-mi waved his hand. He didn't mind, it was cute.

"Yea, I can be," he said, still crouching on her level, a small smile curling on his lips. "I'm Yoo-mi."

"Yumi nii-chan," she laughed pointing a finger out towards him. "Mama, it's Yumi nii-chan."

Mika tried to contain a squee but didn't quite manage to, and Yoo-mi rolled eyes at her. Mei ran away giggling for no reason as toddlers do, and her steps were accompanied by the sound of a toy tambourine she was carrying.

As Yoo-mi straightened up, Yamaguchi entered the cafe also carrying in a box of what smelled like baked goods. He placed it on the counter, and Mika started unpacking the various croissants, sandwiches, and pies to a patisserie display case to the side.

"Ko-kun," the man nodded good morning to Yoo-mi, taking off his coat. He had a black polo on this time and was currently putting on an apron.

"Yamaguchi-san," Yoo-mi answered and, shit, it came out just so faltering, with his voice almost timid at the sight of the tattoo again, there was no way the man wouldn't notice.

"Problem with the name, kid?" he crossed his arms over the chest.

Yoo-mi shook his head, and nervously turned to the coat rack to take off the parka and escape his gaze, bumping into a chair by the table in the process. He swore silently at the noise he made.

"This doesn't help," Mika slapped her husband over the shoulder with a dishcloth, and he relaxed the posture ever so slightly. And when Mei ran back from the stage room and tugged his leg to be carried up, he relaxed completely. With a heartwarming smile he placed her on the barstool. Mika handed the girl a croissant.

"Do you want anything? We have them from a local bakery down the block," she addressed Yoo-mi.

"Sorry, no wallet. I had breakfa--," he didn't get to finish when a croissant and a mug of coffee landed on the counter for him to grab, Mika rolling her eyes at the mention of money.

"Eat up. You're skin and bones."

That wasn't true, and he wasn't particularly up for anything sweet for breakfast in general but her tone didn't leave much room for negotiation.

The croissant was still warm, sweet and flaky, simply melting in his mouth. The coffee tasted different than yesterday, almost silky this time.

As he finished his plate, and handed it back to Mika to the dishwasher, the door to the café swung open again.

"Good timing, got you a coffee ready," Mika beamed at the woman going in, and almost jumped through the latch door to the common space.

"Sorry, my car didn't want to start. Had to wait for Satoshi to get back from his shift," the woman said with a slight accent.

They hugged and Mika coaxed her to the table by the window, where she placed a cup of the same coffee she poured Yoo-mi before. The woman took off her coat and steadied a grey felt hat on the coat rack, then faced him with a smile.

"Ko-kun, I'd like you to meet my colleague," Mika addressed him.

"Hikaru Shǎnyào, nice to meet you."

She was rather petite, with hair white as snow not really matching her age, cascading down the sides of her face. Her eyes framed in a pair of rose gold glasses were watery blue. Dressed in a grey sweater dress and black overknee boots, she looked stylish yet approachable.

Yoo-mi caught himself staring at her with mouth wide open.

"Nice to meet you. Ko Yoo-mi. Sorry...I didn't mean to stare," he mumbled upon reflection and blushed slightly.

"That's alright. It's not always you get to meet someone with albinism, hm?" she answered with ease, as if she had a tried and tested reply ready at hand for such an occasion.

"Hikaru-san is a counsellor. We work together at the Promise House."

Yoo-mi gave Mika a questioning look.

"It's a foundation. We help kids off the streets, and those coming into adulthood from institutions. You know, things like shelter, crisis intervention, legal."

"Sounds better when you don't say I'm simply a lawyer," Hikaru laughed, then addressed Yoo-mi, "What I do is give advice and deal with legal matters that are too hard to untangle for someone in your situation. I think you might have a thing or two I could help with."

Yoo-mi put hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"I can't pay," he said, eyes fixed on the white haired woman.

"We're non-profit. You don't have to."

That was a first, he thought, a lawyer not wanting to get paid.

"Since you're still a minor, you're gonna need the help with the legal stuff," Mika encouraged, seeing his uptight expression.

And he knew it, alright, tried to figure out what to do on his own, but without a parent or guardian he wasn't gonna have, there was only so much he could do legal wise.

He tapped his foot, sending a nervous glance at Yamaguchi, and the man finally caught his gaze.

"Come on, rock star, time to play," he picked Mei, with her croissant and tambourine, and piggybacked her to the stage room. In a minute or so you could hear the banging of drums and a toddler laughing with the sound.

Hands still in pockets, Yoo-mi sat down at the table with Hikaru's coffee mug already waiting. Only then she joined him down, and Mika grabbed another chair to sit as well.

"I'd like to know anything that helps us manage your situation," Hikaru reached to her expensive looking bag and came up with a set of documents and a mini notebook. It flashed a green LED light as she opened the lid.

"Usually, I help with residency, ward office, getting a hanko, a social number, and a bank account."

Yup, he needed all of them.

"But first, I need you to agree to set me up as your proxy."

The form she handed him wasn't long, it already had her name written down in it.

"Did you do it?" he addressed Mika, scanning her face for a lie.

"Had a representative?" she asked surprised. "No, not really. Kobayashi is after all family."

Right. He forgot. There was no resemblance between them whatsoever.

He shifted in the chair trying to get more comfortable, to no use.

"I'm just here to face the officials," Hikaru added. "Won't do anything without your consent but I'll spare you the boring details and waiting times."

Pen tapping the paper, he finally decided to write down his name but didn't move to the dotted line to sign anything.

The lawyer made a small sound seeing katakana and Hangul instead of the kanji in his name.

"You're Korean then?" to Yoo-mi's surprise, she switched to the language with ease.

"No. I'm a half," he answered in Japanese, voice flat.

She gave him a knowing glance and typed down "Father unknown?" in her own notes but knew better than to push him to explain further. "Nothing to worry about. We're all kinds of different here. I know from Mika you were in the Amagasaki Children's Home."

Yoo-mi clenched fists at the name and straightened up as if by reflex. "Long time ago."

"Sorry, gramps sent me the information so that we can try to sort out your papers," Mika apologized after seeing his reaction. He just sent her a quick glance.

"Was it because of family issues?" the lawyer asked.

He half smirked and looked straight into her eyes. "It was because my mom died."

He wanted to make her uncomfortable with the deadpan tone but she didn't really look fazed.

"I'm very sorry to hear that," she replied instead, compassion in her voice. Then typed away at her notebook again.

It was Yoo-mi who felt suddenly uncomfortable. When did he hear someone say it? His brain raced through memory and came out with nothing.

"Any living relatives?"

The question kind of took him by surprise and just for a second he thought he wanted to mention Yoo-ki. "No."

"Were you ever in foster care?"

He hesitated for a minute. "With one couple, they didn't really like me much," he settled on saying finally.

"So you left?" Hikaru asked, no judgement in her voice.

Yoo-mi looked away. Was it okay to say he had run off?

"Don't worry. I'm not here to pry. I know there's usually a reason behind it, and a good one. Do you remember their name?"

He shook his head.

"When was that?"

"First grade middle school."

"And after that?"

"Pretty much on my own." It wasn't a complete lie.

"Regarding the ward office, we'll need to deregister you from your previous address and register you in Tokyo. Where did you live?"

Yoo-mi squinted at her. It felt like a conversation he already had years ago, and he didn't really like it.

"You're gonna kill me, but I messed it up a bit already," Mika made a pained sound, addressing Hikaru, not letting Yoo-mi speak. The lawyer shot her a questioning look.

"He needed this address for the school. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to take the exams," she sighed.

"So you signed yourself as sponsor but didn't really register him officially," Hikaru narrowed her eyes. Mika made a face and shook her head.

"Never one to play by the rules," the lawyer sighed. "We'll fix it, no worries," she said and Mika mouthed "Thanks" in reply.

"We still need the old address," she looked into the form in front of her, and finally took a sip of the coffee.

"How about Kobayashi's place?" Mika suggested to her.

"I wasn't registered there officially too," Yoo-mi said, not even trying to hide the irritation in his voice at them talking over his head.

"Sorry," Mika replied. "Didn't want you to feel left out. So his place is no good?"

"No."

He didn't want Kobayashi's address recorded anywhere in his paperwork anyway, just in case.

"What about Osaka? Do you remember?" Mika asked. Yoo-mi felt his stomach tighten.

That one he could hardly forget. But the address in Nishinari was out of the question. He stared blankly at the white sheet, face growing pale as well.

"You have to give us something to work with. Even if it's just the ward with the school district you attended," Hikaru coaxed him, handing over the form.

After careful consideration, he wrote down the address for Mama Han's. It would match his school paperwork, if anyone would ever check, though Yoo-mi doubted there was an official record of him staying anywhere near Sung-hee's place.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, after handing Hikaru the form. This was all kinds of wrong, he thought.

"Nothing's wrong with you," Mika leaned in to him, voice steady and soothing. "It's the system that's flawed. Doesn't seem to be very friendly to those who have different circumstances," she made sure to avoid saying special. "Like the both of us.

"My records were a mess too when I moved to Onjuku. But things got sorted out. And now, look at me go," she shot him a smug smile. "It's just bureaucracy, nothing you can't handle."

"If anything, its inefficiency gives us leeway. You just have to know your way around," the lawyer's blue eyes gleamed with a flicker of excitement.

Mei's cry for a drink snapped Yoo-mi out of thinking. Mika stood up to the counter, while the girl tugged at Yoo-Mi's sleeve.

"Pick me, nii-chan," she demanded, scrambling into his lap. He obliged with a sigh, and she pressed her face against the glass.

"Look. Kit cat," she pointed out the window. Yoo-mi spotted a black stray crossing the street.

"Mika already mentioned school," Hikaru stared at him holding the girl with a smile. "Thoughts on that?"

"I know you promised gramps to try," Mika set down a paper cup with water and a slice of lemon for Mei and shot him a challenging look.

"Can you--," he gestured to the envelope sticking out of the parka on the coat rack. Mika stood up and took the documents. "It's inside," he said, hands busy securing Mei from falling as she was standing up on his legs.

"You didn't sign the agreement," Mika gave him a sharp look going over the papers.

Yoo-mi made a face. "You forgot the rent."

"No I didn't," she shrugged. "I know how starting from scratch feels. Believe me, it's a lot easier if you don't have to worry about things like money. Then you can focus on the important bits," she seemed to ignore his objection completely, and just shoved the agreement in front of him with a pen on top.

She then looked at his report card taken out of the envelope and whistled.

"That's quite a lot of absences," she said and Yoo-mi frowned again and looked away.

Mei giggled at her mom whistling and tried to copy. Then she jumped off Yoo-mi's lap and followed Yamaguchi behind the counter as he entered to grab himself a coffee.

"But considering all that time off, your GPA is the more so impressive," she winked at him and Yoo-mi straightened up in the chair. He felt almost a blush crawl up his ears.

"There's a school nearby I thought I'd try," he addressed Hikaru.

"Yes there is, and quite a good one," she smiled.

"The exams are mid Feb. I don't even know if I can attend," he shot Mika a pained look.

"I'll follow up on it. But I sent the paperwork on time so I don't see a reason why you shouldn't."

"What if you don't get in?" the lawyer asked, taking another sip of the coffee.

He startled at the sound of the grinder shattering the coffee beans.

"I'm gonna get a job," he shrugged. "I think I'm gonna have to get one anyway, part time, if I get to school."

"Sorry to butt in, but that reminds me," Yamaguchi raised a hand and ducked down the counter for a moment.

"What's that--?" Yoo-mi asked cautiously as the man handed him an envelope.

Inside was money, almost 5,000 yen.

His mouth went dry and his heartbeat pounded loud into his ears.

"Your wages from yesterday. You've worked your honest hours so there you go," the man smiled. "I also have a contract for you, if you'd like."

"Contract?" Yoo-mi repeated, brows pulling in. He was beginning to feel a headache.

"Yea, a job," the man eyed him with amusement. "But since he's a minor," he addressed Hikaru, "I didn't really know if it's appropriate."

"Let me see." She took the papers and scanned them. "There's nothing here he can't do. It's a good deal," she smiled and handed Yoo-mi another set of documents.

Yoo-mi leaned away from the mountain of papers in front of him with an uncomfortable swallow. He somehow felt like he was going to be crushed by the stack any second now.

Instinctively his eyes darted towards the glass door. He counted to three.

Hands no longer in pockets he rolled them into fists on his knees, whole body tense like a string on a fingerboard.

"I'm sorry but I can't sign these," he said, voice insistent.

Mika and Yamaguchi opened their eyes wide. Hikaru just gave him an attentive look.

"It all sounds promising. But the truth is, you don't know me, and I don't know you," he gave them a look one by one, stopping at Yamaguchi.

"For all I know, this might be a scheme. For all I know, you might be a..."

"I swear, if he says 'gangster', I'm gonna change this fucking name today!" the man erupted angry, addressing his wife.

Yoo-mi paused mid sentence. That was exactly what he was meaning to say.

"Kotarō, language," Mika laughed, trying to diffuse his anger, pointing at their daughter running around, while he addressed Yoo-mi with a tone of someone who is tired of explaining things over and over.

"Kid, have you ever seen a yakuza run a hipster café?"

Café, bar, club, same thing, different name, Yoo-mi thought but didn't say it out loud.

"Scratch that, have you ever seen a yakuza at all? Gangsters don't run around in broad daylight scamming people."

"Unless in Osaka," Yoo-mi smirked, his eyes serious all the same.

"Well this is Tokyo. We may be Yamaguchi but we're not the Yamaguchi," Mika replied matter of factly.

"It's the 14th most common name in Japan. Do we even look like we'd be trying to scam you?" he added raising his hands in disbelief.

Yoo-mi narrowed his eyes at the man's tattooed arm.

"And before you answer, kid, for the sake of clarity, this is all her doing," he replied defensively, pointing first to the tattoo and then to Mika who nodded with an amused grin.

"Yeah, I made him get it when we met. To prove he's serious about me," she laughed. "Never thought the idiot was so in love to actually get that tattoo. Kurōta, you know, like the blackbird, was my maiden name," she explained with a smile.

Yoo-mi swallowed and shot them both a look again. He shifted on the chair, tension in his muscles letting down a bit.

"I thought the café is a Beatles reference," he noted, clearing his throat.

"It's both," Kotarō exhaled, his anger already gone. "But mostly a tribute to her family. This place is her house turned into my dream."

Mika sent him a blow kiss.

Yoo-mi crossed his arms, and furrowed his brows.

"It's not that I think you're gonna scam me," he started carefully, looking for the right way to put it. "It's just...too good to be all true.

"I mean, first the flat, then free legal advice. Now the job. Things in life aren't free. There's always a catch."

He felt suddenly tired and disillusioned, the seventeen years of his life feeling more like seventy.

Quickly, he checked himself and straightened up, defiant, under Mika's worried gaze. He didn't want her to think he was hurt or weak, or he needed anyone's compassion, like maybe some other kids she'd worked with before.

"Would it help if the rent at least wasn't free?" she asked.

He looked at her surprised.

Seeing how he didn't reply, she dug out the sheet from the pile in front of him, and scribbled a monthly sum on the tenancy agreement, then handed it to Yoo-mi.

"But that's like -- barely 100 yen a day, it's nothing," he protested after a quick calculation.

"Is it? Oh you know, I'm not very good with math and accounting and all that market economy crap," she made an exaggerated, confused face.

Of course he knew she was lying, she was running a business after all.

"Well, I think I'll have to raise the rent at some point," she added in a carefree manner. "Just gotta do some research first. I mean, it's a good neighbourhood and there's demand, and I don't know..."

"Okay, fine. I get it," he rolled his eyes.

He inhaled, exhaled. Loudly. Twice. Then he cracked the tiniest smile.

Now that looks much better on you, Mika thought. "Yumi-kun," she addressed him quite casually by the Japanese first name.

Though surprised at first, he let her go with it.

"It may be hard to believe but people are generally not trying to screw you over all the time," she added with a reassuring smile.

Yoo-mi looked around at the group of people he was surrounded by. The lawyer, the wife and husband, the little girl who wouldn't stop calling him big brother. No ill intentions, no hidden motives. Happy to have him there, meaning to help.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly again.

He knew there was no way all his insecurities would disappear in a day or two here, and that he'd be able to simply discard all the safety measures, emotional or otherwise, that kept him alive for the last year.

But if he was going to really start things over, again, now was as perfect a time as any.

The dotted line on the paperwork felt almost like a starting point to what he, yes, hoped to be a new kind of long distance run in his life.

Holding a pen in hand and a heart on his sleeve, he couldn't keep still on the edge of the seat.

[rebel-band]

Track listing

Track 1. Into the Light

Track 2. Here on the Starting Line

Track 3. Wednesday Night Blues

Track 4. Soul, Meet Body

Track 5. Soul So Cynical

Track 6. Always Tomorrow

[rebel-band]

Track 1. Into the Light

On a January evening, a week after his seventeenth birthday, Ko Yoo-mi set his foot in Tokyo for the second time in his life, and this time with the intention of staying for good. With a guitar case on his back, 100 000 yen in his wallet, a gym bag light with just a couple of thrift clothes, and a heart half full of apprehension and half of assurance, he stood in front of a two storied white building that he never had expected would turn out to be a café.

After checking the address again in his wreck of a phone, and realizing the battery had way too little power left in case this plan fell through tonight, he knew the only way was to go in, and hope for the best. With a deep breath he pulled the glass door open.

Blackbird, as was the café called judging by the minimalist logo on the door, was full and hot like an overflowing cup, steaming with conversations, coffee scent, and a feeling of companionship. The merry patrons were sitting at two tables by the full length display window in the front, as well as by a long wooden counter, attended by two baristas - a pink-haired woman, and a man. Before Yoo-mi even considered finding a spot for himself, the man behind the counter gestured to him and then to the door over the heads of the customers.

"Sorry kid. It's past 7 PM, and a bar night, so adults only."

He was a man nearing his thirties, of a rather muscular stance, with stubble and a no-nonsense expression on his face. Under a barista apron he was wearing some band t-shirt.

Yoo-mi straightened up, chest out, confident look on his face. "I'm twenty," he lied. But the man was not having it. "Can I see some ID?"

"I don't have it with me," he shrugged in reply.

"Then I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

As the man crossed his arms over the chest in a no-joke manner, Yoo-mi noticed a sleeve kind of tattoo of what looked like a bird in a branch on his right arm. Somehow the sight gave him a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm looking for Mika," he got himself to say. "Does she work here?"

The bartender shifted in place, arms still crossed, eyes narrowed and scrutinising Yoo-mi from head to toe.

"She's out for a while." His tone was sharp if informative.

"Look, can I just get a coffee. I'll wait outside." Yoo-mi tried to excuse himself from the man's company, and the man agreed, still closely scanning his appearance.

"Black?"

"Sure," he replied absentmindedly, looking around while the man tended to the coffee machine.

The chatter at the counter made it hard to focus but he managed to notice a black iron shelf full of hard liquor on the white painted wall of exposed brick behind the baristas (so it was a bar after all), and a door frame just opposite the main entrance at the far end of the room, leading to what looked like a stage in the back of the venue, with a band setting up for the night.

The barman handed him a black paper cup with a lid in exchange for cash, and politely but firmly nodded towards the door again.

Outside, the sun was already gone, and the white stucco of the building turned grey with the twilight. Yoo-mi moved sideways from the well lit entrance under a wooden pergola, which in the summer must have served as a small outdoor sitting space for the guests. It looked eerily abandoned now.

As a train rattled on the tracks somewhere close-by, he startled, and suddenly noticed he's been clutching the handles of his bag way tighter than necessary with a nervous grip.

This was a mistake. What was he thinking coming over? Old man Kobayashi said she'd be waiting but, honestly, why would she bother with someone she'd never even met.

He took a deep breath, and then a sip.

The coffee had a rich flavour, unlike the ones he knew from the vending machines and 7elevens. But for that price, he'd be surprised if it tasted bad.

Checking the battery on his phone again, he thought about his options.

Without an ID, he'd have to find a manga cafe, and soon, to get a spot for the night. It didn't look like the kind of neighbourhood to have any, so he needed to get closer to Akihabara. The sounds of the trains nearby gave him some hope to get there in time. Then in the morning, he'd try to find her again. Maybe.

Just as he threw the paper cup away into a nearby bin, and leaned out of the pergola to look around for some signage directing to the nearest station, he heard two women walking by.

"I tell you, if he keeps spoiling her like that she'll be too jealous of the baby," one of them nagged with an exaggerated sigh.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be a good big sister anyway," the other simply laughed, as they moved towards the cafe entrance.

"Sorry, are you Mika?" Yoo-mi followed them into the lit area in front of the display window, addressing any of them really, clinging to some last hope.

The woman in a grey hoodie over a long dark dress gasped as he appeared in view, and nearly dropped a Family Mart bag full of groceries.

Yoo-mi paused in his steps and straightened up. As she eyed him carefully he became painfully aware of his appearance. 

Shoulder length black hair. A mildly irritated face expression that seemed to be almost permanent. Tall and skinny frame in black jeans and an olive green parka. Chucks. A guitar on his back.

"Ah! You must be Ko-kun!" she perked up surprised.

He simply nodded.

"Why aren't you inside? He didn't let you in, did he?" she answered herself not even waiting for him to speak. "I'm going to have a serious talk with that man, I swear."

"Well, I'm going in," the other woman gestured at the door. "Let's see if this band's any good." She sent a small smile to Yoo-mi as she excused herself.

"So, I'm Yamaguchi Mika, nice to meet you" the woman bowed slightly with a smile.

"Ko Yoo-mi, likewise."

Not much of a talker, huh, she noted to herself. "How was the journey?"

"Fine. Came by coach."

"A coach, huh? But that's so long."

"It's a lot cheaper though," he shrugged.

Mika sighed, knowing that all too well.

"OK, let's get you settled then" she smiled at him, and moving back towards the pergola gestured for him to follow. Only then Yoo-mi noticed, there was actually a fence with a gate there, and a very narrow garden path by the side of a neighbouring building. It led to an iron wrought staircase attached to the side of the building. He followed her up.

"This used to be my parents' house." There was a hint of nostalgia and affection in her voice. "Then we converted it to a business with my husband. It's not much really, but we got to live here, the three of us, till our daughter needed more space." She fidgeted with the key in the lock. "So I think you'll be pretty comfortable here on your own."

She opened the door to what turned out to be a studio flat right above the café.

"We took almost all of our stuff out already, there's two more boxes in the kitchen by the window. Kotarō promised to take them tomorrow." She took her shoes off and stepped right in, then placed the bag of groceries on a wooden kitchen cart that doubled as a kitchen island and table.

Yoo-mi stepped into the genkan, and looked around the flat.

Just opposite the step up, there was a door which probably led to a small bath unit. On his left, over a half wall stood a kitchen counter with a portable counter top cooker visible, a small sink nearby it. He glimpsed a window at the far end of the room, it was probably overlooking the cafe entrance.

"Come on, shoes off, what are you waiting for?" She laughed, rushing him in.

He untied the chucks and stepped slowly over the genkan step. "Sorry for the intrusion." he said, head bowed down and avoiding her eyes.

"Now I know what gramps meant saying you're a bit...feral," she said amused, but with arms crossed all the same. "You're not intruding, for god's sake. This is your home now, right? So what do you say in a home?"

He shifted in place. "I'm...home."

How strange that word still was, Yoo-mi thought.

"Welcome then!" She gestured with open arms, happy to show him around. "This floor is soundproof so nothing coming from below will bother you. There's a new futon for you in the corner. Also, a welcome gift," she pointed to a nearby guitar stand, then moved to getting the groceries into a small fridge under the kitchen counter. "I brought you something for starters, but you can easily find a konbini around if you need more. There were no bentos left, though, they sell out pretty quickly after six because students live around here. It's quite close to the campus."

He looked around uncertain, not moving from his place, as she continued bustling around the kitchen.

"There's no washing machine, but a coin laundry is around the corner as well. Sorry there's no real balcony, we had to remove it when we extended the venue into the garden for the stage downstairs. The view wasn't that great anyway because of the train line behind the house. But the door still opens, and you can use the roof to chill." She smiled, then looked at him again.

He still had the parka and guitar case on, gym bag in hand, as if ready to leave any second.

"Here's the keys" she handed him a lanyard but it took him a moment to reach out for it and accept it.

"Thanks," he muttered in reply.

"I know it's a lot to process but remember, I'm here to help." She smiled a reassuring smile. "Now get yourself settled, and then come down to us once you feel like it, OK?"

For a second, Yoo-mi thought she wanted to give him a hug, but stopped herself at the last moment. With a wave instead, she said she'd see him later.

Once the door closed after her, Yoo-mi let out a deep breath and sat on the floor. With the keys heavy in his hand he suddenly felt the weight of the journey behind him.

It took him about an hour to get back downstairs. He didn't really have to unpack, there was not much in his bag anyway. But he took the time to carefully check the locks, and the balcony door leading to the roof of the building extension below. The building, he noted, was not high enough to give him full vertigo but it was probably too high to jump off safely if needed. As he was going back inside, he felt the roof vibrate slightly with the sound of the band playing below.

He plugged the phone to charge, checked the fridge stocked by the woman with food, and took a bite of a spicy tuna mayo onigiri, only then realizing how hungry he had been. It disappeared in one go. Before getting into the shower to get rid of the traveling fatigue, out of habit, he checked the locks again.

When he entered the café, most of the patrons had cleared into the second room to listen to the band play but the bar still seemed crowded for his taste. No longer in the grey hoodie, Mika was sitting by the counter between the customers, soda can and glass beside her.

"You never listen to me," she raised her voice but clearly only teased the man Yoo-mi has already seen behind the counter tonight.

"I do, it's just you never said it'd be today," the man laughed back.

"I didn't say? You forgot, that's what it is. Honestly, I don't know how you still manage to run this business." She rolled her eyes, finishing her drink.

"We all know it's you who runs the place, Missus," one of the customers butted in, hearty laugh from the other patrons following his statement. "He's just here to serve the coffee."

"And play your music, mind you," the bartender pointed a finger at the customer in a half-joking, half-warning kind of way.

"I'm sorry! Please let us play here again soon!" As the man pleaded, everyone erupted in laughter again.

"Hey Ko-kun!" Mika gestured to him smiling, while a large group of people entering the cafe, clearly late to the concert, pushed Yoo-mi further inside. "This is my husband, that rude man, who didn't let you in," she grinned at the man.

"Nice to meet you, Yamaguchi Kotarō." He bowed to Yoo-mi with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for the trouble before."

"Ko Yoo-mi. No problem. The coffee was great."

As another group came back to the bar from the other room to get drinks and swiped passed him, Yoo-mi felt his body tense up and stuck closer to the wall, trying to lean away from the coming crowd.

This was the most people he's been around since last summer.

"Too crowded for you?" Yamaguchi asked, seeing his reaction. "You want to hop onto this side of the counter to help out?"

Though surprised at first, Yoo-mi did a mental headcount, then quickly exchanged his parka for the apron the man handed him, and got behind the counter through a latch door for employees. With only three people on this side, it felt better already.

"Ever worked in a café?" Yamaguchi asked, as Yoo-mi pulled his hair up and tied it with a hairband from his wrist.

"No, but I'm a fast learner."

"You can't just ask people to work for you like that," Mika objected, but the man just hushed her with a wave.

"Hey, that's how I got the job and I'm not complaining," the pink-haired barista moved closer towards Yoo-mi. "I'm Kate, by the way." He noticed her Japanese was great, even though she was a foreigner.

Mika was still not pleased, a frown visible under her evenly cut bangs.

"I'm fine." Yoo-mi simply moved to the sink as instructed by Kate to wash hands. "I don't mind working."

"See?" Yamaguchi smiled at his wife. "It's always a good idea."

Was it a good idea? That Yoo-mi wasn't entirely sure. What he was sure of was you didn't really say no to a man with that many tattoos where he was from. He also felt it a fairly easy way to return a favour. After all, it was their hospitality he was relying on, and he was painfully aware of the fact.

The band played in the background while Kate, bouncing from foot to foot to the tune, explained to him the basics of adjusting the grinder, tamping the grounds, and making an "excellent espresso" which he was sure won't happen on his first try.

"Here you go, boss," she offered the first of Yoo-mi's attempts to Yamaguchi who was observing Kate's teaching and Yoo-mi's progress with a wide grin. He took the small cup, he took a sip, then finally bent almost in half and grimaced.

"That under-extracted, huh?" Mika laughed at his reaction. She knew her husband much preferred his coffee dark and sweet.

Kate snickered, and Yoo-mi's eyes darted from one to the other, a frown on his face.

"It's too sour," Yamaguchi explained, "But some twenty dozens more and I'll say you learned how to pull a passable shot. It's a painful learning curve, much like with the guitar," he added. Yoo-mi relaxed his expression slightly.

"Oh yea, gramps mentioned you taught yourself how to play," Mika remembered all of a sudden. "You even did some gigs back in town, I heard."

Yoo-mi immediately stood taller, a small yet knowing smile on his face. "Some."

"When did you start?" Yamaguchi asked, passing the unfinished espresso back to Kate who tossed it into the drain and the cup to the dishwasher.

"Fourteen."

"When I started drums at fourteen, my parents wanted to kill me," he laughed in response, and for just a moment Yoo-mi thought he wished he had that problem at the time. "What's your gear?"

"J45."

"Favourite axeman?"

"The Samurai."

"He plays a Taylor T5, right?"

Yoo-mi nodded. "What do you play?" he asked the man.

"Good ol' Yamaha. You can check it out in the back later." He gestured with the head towards the end of the room. "The band's using it now."

"Yamaguchi-san lets people borrow it for gigs sometimes," one of the customers added to the conversation.

"Not every indie band can afford to bring their own kit."

"Not every band should". The woman Yoo-mi had seen heading to the cafe with Mika before sat down at the bar, resting her head on the left arm. She was wearing a deep sea green blazer over a white shirt, and a tired expression on her face.

"Come on, they're not that bad." Kate rolled her eyes at her, and asked Yoo-mi to pass the Hendricks gin bottle from the iron shelf above his head. He reached for it without a problem, while she would definitely need a step ladder to do so.

The woman at the counter happily accepted the gin and tonic that Kate served her without even being asked. 

"Well all in all, no. Just their guitar sucks." She tapped the side of the glass before having a sip. "I mean, what's with the volume war? You can't hear the goddamn vocals, or bass for that matter, over how loud he's playing there. Why do so many goddamn guitarists have to show they think they're better than the rest of the band?" she addressed one of the patrons, who simply put his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"This guy here plays guitar too. Why don't you ask him," the man pointed at Yoo-mi.

The woman eyed him with a slow building up smile, and leaned in forward on the counter.

"So what do you think, newcomer?" Her green eyes flickered with a playful gaze.

Yoo-mi gave her a half smirk. "Nothing wrong with showing you're good at something."

"When you're flying solo," she replied without hesitation. "See, that's the thing. It's different in a group of people, in a band. You can't really show off all the time. You need something else, like a connection."

"I think you need more than that."

"Chemistry?"

He shook his head.

"Trust and respect."

She raised one eyebrow at his statement over the glass pressed to her lips.

"They probably don't trust his skills, and he doesn't care enough to respect theirs." Yoo-mi gestured with the head towards the stage room.

"Oh, interesting. So you don't think a good band needs chemistry?"

"Take away the tinsel, it's just another day to day job."

She blinked twice, forgetting what she wanted to say.

"So show up, apply yourself 100%. Trust others do the same, and respect the work they put in. That's what you need."

He saw Mika smile to herself seeing her friend’s bewildered gaze, and realized he must have sounded pretty much like Kobayashi right now.

"Good work ethics, I like that," Nanami smiled at him. "Oh, I don't think I've introduced myself. Miwa Nanami, Hex Records." She handed him a business card promptly. "Now all I need is to hear you play."

Yoo-mi looked at the cream cardboard card with a black logo showing two female hands holding what looked like a half moon, half vinyl record. He smirked.

"I'm not looking for fame."

"Well then, just give me a call if it finds you," she grinned.

After paying for the drink, Kate charging Nanami’s card and showing Yoo-mi how to use the point of sale system, the woman put on her black coat.

"See you next weekend, guys." She waved a goodbye to the group at the counter.

The band finished the set at 11 pm and came down to the bar for drinks and friendly banter. Yoo-mi busied himself with cleaning the glassware Kate collected from the patrons from the stage room, and was carefully loading the dishwasher in a small kitchen nook to the side of the counter.

From there he had a good view of the guitarist who, though seemingly engaged in the same small talk, kept a distance from the rest of his group. Seeing him react with impatient snorts and grumbling at what the others were saying only made Yoo-mi certain he was right about the dynamic in the band. And sure enough, the man left with his guitar case without even saying goodbye to his mates.

Last call came and went, and so finally did all the patrons. When the café emptied, it felt to Yoo-mi as if it suddenly contracted cooling down. He couldn't really believe how many people had come and gone through the door in the couple of hours he was there.

While Kate tried to go over the cleaning and maintenance of the coffee machines with him, Mika was looking into transactions in the POS on a tablet, and Yamaguchi disappeared to the stage room.

Kate soon dismissed Yoo-mi, seeing how he wasn't really paying much attention, his mind already way too tired to register all the details, and simply gave him a broom to sweep the floors. That he could do, even if tired.

First thing he did, he walked over to the other room, the broom a good excuse to take a look. It was wider than the bar room, with wooden parquet on the floor and wooden custom looking acoustic panels on the walls. A small ledge ran around the wall, probably for patrons to leave their empty glasses safe during a gig. On the far right, a black sturdy fire door led outside to the area under the pergola. The room only had artificial lightning, no windows in sight. He thought the acoustics here must be pretty great.

Right opposite the door frame, there was a low stage, stocked with mic stands and amps, a vintage looking carpet underneath the equipment. The amber coloured Yamaha stood in the right corner of the stage, Yamaguchi busy with giving it a thorough clean.

As Yoo-mi moved across the room with the broom, the man moved methodically from polishing the rims, cymbals, and metal hardware, finally to the wooden parts of the set. The wood conditioner he used was, unmistakably, lemon oil. Yoo-mi smiled to himself at the smell triggering a fond memory.

He didn't know much about drum set maintenance but the attention with which Yamaguchi treated the kit was similar to how Yoo-mi treated his own guitar. The appreciation for the craft and the love for it was almost palpable.

"Ko-kun, come down here when you're done!"

He startled hearing his name coming from the bar room. Mika had a surprisingly strong voice for someone of her posture.

He quickly swiped the dust into the dustpan and returned to the front of the café, evading Kate who was sweeping the floor here with another broom. She took the dustpan from him, while Mika patted the bar stool next to her for him to sit.

"I've got something for you," she said, handing him a white envelope. Inside, Yoo-mi found, was a stack of papers with the title "Tenancy agreement".

"You don't have to look into it now, I'm sure you're tired," she added seeing him shift uncomfortably on the chair. "But it's something we could go over tomorrow."

"Sure," he answered, looking down at the envelope clutched in his hands rather than at her.

"There's also your paperwork to discuss. I asked a colleague to help sort things out for you. We've been working on similar cases of...unaccompanied minors before," she looked for a good way to put it. "Did gramps mention it to you?"

"Yes."

She crossed her arms with a worried look on her face, yet she didn’t comment further. "We're opening at 10:30 to customers, so if you could be down here at 9 that would be perfect. Bring anything you think may help."

He only nodded in reply.

Kate said her goodbyes and hurried home, and shortly after Yoo-mi excused himself from the Yamaguchis too. Envelope in hand, he climbed the iron wrought staircase and opened the door.

Inside, he kicked off the chucks, and closed all locks carefully. He grabbed another onigiri from the fridge and sat down by the kitchen island with the stack of papers but it was no use, they'd have to wait until morning. With a tired sigh he trailed to the bathroom to have another quick shower after the work done tonight.

Boxers and tee on, he assembled the futon mattress and covered it with the new sheets. Sitting on the ready made bed he took another look at the studio.

This was a good place, he knew deep inside, better than anything he's ever had for himself. Maybe that was part why it felt so weird.

As he swept his eyes through the items in the room, his phone charging, gym bag still packed, parka neatly folded by its side, the guitar case in his immediate vicinity, he noticed the guitar stand that Mika mentioned casually during the home tour.

It was the fold away, simple ‘A’ frame type but it had nice padding for support and a safety strap attached. Naturally, Yoo-mi reached to open his guitar case.

The vintage sunburst of his guitar stood heavily out against the red lining inside. He carefully picked the instrument and stood up in front of the stand.Hesitating for a moment, he decided against using it after all.

"Sorry to keep you waiting so long," he thought, sitting down on the futon to tune the guitar after the journey today.

Strumming the strings, Yoo-mi felt a wave of comfort come. He could only think of one song to play after tonight at the café.

Just before 2 AM, he put the guitar back into the case, and heard the black metal shutters fall down outside on the display window and the glass door like heavy eyelids. And just like that, Blackbird was finally silent in the darkness of the night.

[rebel-band]

Blast the music until you can't feel a thing

Welcome to my blog where I'll be posting things related to my original story, Dawn to the Ink Black Night. It follows Yoo-mi, who comes to Tokyo, with just a guitar on his back, in search of a new beginning. In a place he'd never expect to call home, he meets new people who quickly become friends. Among them there's Aya, an expressive and extravagant vocalist, determined to make Yoo-mi join his band. Follow their shenanigans and see if Yoo-mi finally gives in to the voice calling his heart or will he let the fear of the past cast a shadow on their way to stardom.

So, here we go.