Hajime no Insho
sho juni.
What had become an escape had become a routine. The band would meet up, warm up, play for a bit, take a break for a bit, and then play again. Kouyou would tease Takanori about his new girlfriend, Yui would grumble offhandedly on the side, Tetora would do his absolute best to pretend as though he wasn’t there, and Akira would attempt to keep the atmosphere light if arguments started.
And sadly, arguments between the two guitarists had become more frequent than ever. Yui would make a remark, telling Kouyou to let Takanori’s private life stay private, Kouyou would mutter something back, and then tensions would rise from there. It had been going on for at least two months now, and the strength of the bond between members had begun to lessen.
Granted, Akira and Takanori and Kouyou had remained close as ever, but the other two members had begun to slip, as though the band’s small success had inflated their egos beyond the point of socialization. Was their music still good? Of course it was. And their lives still attracted crowds of decent size who paid decent amounts of money, but the feeling of a ‘band’ that Takanori had grown to know was no longer there.
Five months ago, they’d been a band. They’d played their music and they’d enjoyed each other’s company, and they’d shared jokes and laughs and cigarettes, and Takanori had felt like the nineteen-year-old that he was; playing rock music and playing lives and being the badass on stage for the first time in his life. But somewhere along the line, a cog in their flawless clockwork had slipped, and something was out of sync.
They rarely had collective conversations unless it was something concerning the band, and the smiles and the jokes weren’t there as often, and they were forced if they were. It was sad, but in a way, Takanori had expected it. Underground bands like theirs never made it very far, and though they had success, he could only expect that it would be short-lived, and that was his past experience speaking, if anything. His previous band had only lasted a couple of months, his last relationship had lasted less than that, and now Ma’die was drawing to a close.
It should have made him sad. His proof to his parents that he’d done something to attain his dream would be in the past. It should have broken his heart, really. From what he knew of and from what he’d seen, bands ending never felt amazing, but he had a feeling that this band ending would bring about a release. The tension and the frustration would be gone, and he and Kouyou and Akira would be able to start anew with a different band, different names even, and give the world of music another shot.
Somehow, he’d found a way to find faith in what the rest of the world called ‘karma’. And maybe that was the Takanori speaking that had a girlfriend that was pretty much repairing what his parents and Midori’s parents had screwed up within him, but it was Takanori nonetheless. The timeless ‘good things come to those who wait’ was, in a way, paying him a small visit, and maybe it had been for a while.
Granted, his band was falling apart, but that seemed to really only be the routine part of his life. Over the last couple of months, he’d gotten closer to Kouyou, and though the guitarist still cracked a few witty jokes about his relationship with Yumiko, it was almost as if their friendship had gotten past that. Half of this was because Takanori had quietly owned up to ‘being a man’, as Kouyou had so delicately put it, and the other half was because somewhere between their band gaining attention and their band slipping apart and their band gaining a bit more money from their shows, they’d become friends.
He’d gotten closer with Akira, too. The bassist had been his closest friend pretty much from the start of the band, but he was now the kind of close friend that would take Takanori out for drinks, and he was the kind of close friend that listened as Takanori told him about Yumiko and the little things she’d taken to doing to make him happy, and he was the kind of close friend that Takanori hoped that he would have for a long time.
Because somehow, Akira always exuded this aura that just screamed super fucking cool, and if he ever felt anything but relaxed, he never let on that he was uncomfortable or unhappy or un-anything. He was the epitome of the kind of guy that every girl Takanori knew of would kill for. He had a flawless smile, and the noseband that he wore accentuated the features of his face that it wasn’t covering up, and he was always getting offers to dance that he gently denied each time.
Takanori had learned a lot from him. He’d learned a lot from the entire experience, actually. He’d learned how to be a drummer instead of someone who beat away at a set in their spare time, and he’d learned how to be in front of people and how to play harder and louder and how to feed off the rush. He’d learned how to meet people and how to socialize, and in the past five months, he’d learned how to really leave his shell and stop caring about what everyone else thought. He’d learned how to keep a steady girlfriend, and he’d learned how to be a good boyfriend, and learned what it felt like to love and to be loved back.
Routine or not, falling apart or not, Takanori was thankful for Ma’die Kusse.
And sadly, arguments between the two guitarists had become more frequent than ever. Yui would make a remark, telling Kouyou to let Takanori’s private life stay private, Kouyou would mutter something back, and then tensions would rise from there. It had been going on for at least two months now, and the strength of the bond between members had begun to lessen.
Granted, Akira and Takanori and Kouyou had remained close as ever, but the other two members had begun to slip, as though the band’s small success had inflated their egos beyond the point of socialization. Was their music still good? Of course it was. And their lives still attracted crowds of decent size who paid decent amounts of money, but the feeling of a ‘band’ that Takanori had grown to know was no longer there.
Five months ago, they’d been a band. They’d played their music and they’d enjoyed each other’s company, and they’d shared jokes and laughs and cigarettes, and Takanori had felt like the nineteen-year-old that he was; playing rock music and playing lives and being the badass on stage for the first time in his life. But somewhere along the line, a cog in their flawless clockwork had slipped, and something was out of sync.
They rarely had collective conversations unless it was something concerning the band, and the smiles and the jokes weren’t there as often, and they were forced if they were. It was sad, but in a way, Takanori had expected it. Underground bands like theirs never made it very far, and though they had success, he could only expect that it would be short-lived, and that was his past experience speaking, if anything. His previous band had only lasted a couple of months, his last relationship had lasted less than that, and now Ma’die was drawing to a close.
It should have made him sad. His proof to his parents that he’d done something to attain his dream would be in the past. It should have broken his heart, really. From what he knew of and from what he’d seen, bands ending never felt amazing, but he had a feeling that this band ending would bring about a release. The tension and the frustration would be gone, and he and Kouyou and Akira would be able to start anew with a different band, different names even, and give the world of music another shot.
Somehow, he’d found a way to find faith in what the rest of the world called ‘karma’. And maybe that was the Takanori speaking that had a girlfriend that was pretty much repairing what his parents and Midori’s parents had screwed up within him, but it was Takanori nonetheless. The timeless ‘good things come to those who wait’ was, in a way, paying him a small visit, and maybe it had been for a while.
Granted, his band was falling apart, but that seemed to really only be the routine part of his life. Over the last couple of months, he’d gotten closer to Kouyou, and though the guitarist still cracked a few witty jokes about his relationship with Yumiko, it was almost as if their friendship had gotten past that. Half of this was because Takanori had quietly owned up to ‘being a man’, as Kouyou had so delicately put it, and the other half was because somewhere between their band gaining attention and their band slipping apart and their band gaining a bit more money from their shows, they’d become friends.
He’d gotten closer with Akira, too. The bassist had been his closest friend pretty much from the start of the band, but he was now the kind of close friend that would take Takanori out for drinks, and he was the kind of close friend that listened as Takanori told him about Yumiko and the little things she’d taken to doing to make him happy, and he was the kind of close friend that Takanori hoped that he would have for a long time.
Because somehow, Akira always exuded this aura that just screamed super fucking cool, and if he ever felt anything but relaxed, he never let on that he was uncomfortable or unhappy or un-anything. He was the epitome of the kind of guy that every girl Takanori knew of would kill for. He had a flawless smile, and the noseband that he wore accentuated the features of his face that it wasn’t covering up, and he was always getting offers to dance that he gently denied each time.
Takanori had learned a lot from him. He’d learned a lot from the entire experience, actually. He’d learned how to be a drummer instead of someone who beat away at a set in their spare time, and he’d learned how to be in front of people and how to play harder and louder and how to feed off the rush. He’d learned how to meet people and how to socialize, and in the past five months, he’d learned how to really leave his shell and stop caring about what everyone else thought. He’d learned how to keep a steady girlfriend, and he’d learned how to be a good boyfriend, and learned what it felt like to love and to be loved back.
Routine or not, falling apart or not, Takanori was thankful for Ma’die Kusse.