I_LOVE_RICE+
patreon
V6 Chapter 137: Do Your Bassists All Share the Same Face?
🕑 Added 2025-09-02 13:25:10 +0000 UTCThe glow of dusk streamed slantwise through the window, staining the wooden floor with a warm amber sheen. Anon's curled-up figure stretched long across the floor, her cherry-pink hair spilling out in a messy cascade, the tips still dotted with fine beads of sweat.
"I-I-I was wrong! S-sor… ry…"
"I won't dare again…"
The once-proud and stubborn Anon could no longer string words together. Her strength drained, all she could do was gasp out apologies between ragged breaths.
Guitar practice was far too difficult.
She had thought her memories from the "dream" would serve as reference, but reality proved painfully different. After less than two hours of practice, she was left like a helpless fish, begging for mercy.
Haru couldn't help but find it amusing, though his tone was faintly reproachful.
"Didn't you call me here because you swore you'd practice guitar properly?"
"I can't… I'm too exhausted to even think anymore…"
She buried her flushed cheeks in the crook of her arms. Even her fingertips glowed coral pink, as though scorched by sunset. The strain of fingerpicking and string bends had snapped her thread of reason like it was nothing.
Her body was so drained she couldn't summon the strength to move. She lay slumped on the floor, Haneoka's dark green ribbon crooked around her neck, her white shirt already soaked through in patches.
Yesterday, the great "pioneer" Kita Ikuyo had once said:
"At the end of practice your mind goes completely blank."
But Anon thought… she must have been hiding something. Because this wasn't about whether her mind went blank, it was about not even having the strength to think.
"Mm…"
Anon pressed both hands to her burning cheeks. Her guitar lay abandoned at her side, while the little pink dog plush [Haru's gift] sat propped in the corner, face deliberately turned toward the wall.
Haru, her Sensei for the day, found the sight hard to endure without laughing. He gently helped the limp pink-haired girl up, one arm steadying her soft waist so she could rest against his chest.
"The frets are close together. If you want to play chords smoothly, you'll need more practice. For harmonics, your touch has to be lighter. And bends, you'll want to use two fingers… Let me just show you once?"
"Haru… let me rest a bit, or I won't even be able to get out of bed tomorrow…"
The pink Labrador from earlier was now nothing more than a spoiled kitten, begging for mercy. Haru finally relented with a mischievous smile, then lifted the still-warm honey water from the desk.
"Then rest for now, at least drink some water."
"I already drank plenty earlier… of all kinds…"
The pink-haired girl murmured as she leaned against his shoulder, her flushed cheeks even brighter than her glossy cherry hair. The plush dog in the corner stubbornly kept its face to the wall.
She rubbed her head against him, then spoke like a child begging for attention.
"Haru, feed me~"
"All right, all right."
Haru straightened his back, carefully tilting the porcelain spoon to her lips. The last mouthful of honeyed water burst sweet across her tongue, making the sweet-toothed Anon open her eyes with delight.
But that single glance made her freeze. She had spotted the three red marks her nails had left on his arm.
"Guitar practice can't be neglected. The Future World Fes prelims are coming fast. If we want to make a name for ourselves now, we can't let this chance slip."
Haru picked up the guitar she had tossed aside. Anon blinked in surprise, lifting her head to ask in disbelief.
"Eh? We're really practicing?"
"What else?"
So it was really guitar practice, not just a pretext?
Haru shot her a half-exasperated look. The fool still had her head full of pink bubbles, unable to leave the "aftertaste" behind. Her ears burned crimson, and she bit his neck in protest.
Her little tiger teeth left a sharp sting, reminding Haru of the so-called "practice" from moments before.
"Anon, you're practically Yue."[1]
"Eh? What do you mean?"
The sudden name left her baffled, but Haru only waved it off with a mysterious smile, hiding his amusement as he said calmly,
"Nothing important. No need to think about it."
But his evasiveness only made her itch with frustration.
"Why are you being cryptic? What does it mean?!"
"Haru tell me already~"
…
The days seemed to settle into a rhythm.
The next morning, Haru stirred awake, his eyes half-lidded with sleep.
The first thing he saw was a face delicate as ink-wash painting. Her hair spilled over the pillow like night, the tips slightly untamed. One could stare at her for an entire day and never tire of it.
"…You're awake?"
His murmur made the girl open her eyes. Emerald green, slightly upturned at the corners, calm yet mysterious. She carried an effortless grace.
Umiri lowered her gaze and nestled closer into his arms. Her voice was cool, even.
"Being stared at first thing in the morning feels a little awkward. But I plan to sleep a bit longer."
Haru blinked and couldn't resist asking, "Is staring not allowed?"
"I didn't say that."
"My face is beautiful enough. It makes sense you'd want to look at it."
Good grief, do all bassists share the same shameless face?
Apparently Umiri's skin was a little too thick. Clearly the only solution was to kiss her more.
At her calm vanity, Haru's lips twitched. He leaned down to kiss her lightly, then said unhurriedly,
"Then sleep some more. I'll go make breakfast."
Leaving her with that, he slid out of bed, washed up, tied back his loose hair, and walked into the kitchen. Tying on an apron, he cracked three eggs with one hand and dropped them into the pan in a single fluid motion.
Sizzle…
The clear egg whites gradually solidified in the sizzling oil, crisping into three perfectly fried eggs FYI no Sharingan required. For something this simple, Haru could cook it blindfolded.
Since the three of them attended different schools, he always made three bentos in the morning. Originally, he'd also planned to bring Anon a bowl of nourishing red date porridge at school.
But on second thought… wasn't she taking the day off today?
"Maybe I went a little overboard with my 'prank' yesterday. I'll apologize to her tomorrow."
Not that he was entirely at fault. After all, that annoying pink-hair really had gotten too cocky.
During the band's training camp she had gone out of her way to tease him, and ever since, she was always flirting, pestering, or just plain messing with him. Basically a supersized bratty gremlin. Honestly, who wouldn't lose their cool in that situation?
Evil little pink-haired brat, I should've taught you a proper lesson ages ago!
Bzz~
His phone on the counter suddenly began playing Haruhikage. Without missing a beat, Haru tucked it between his shoulder and ear, both hands still busy at the stove.
[Hello? Is this Yuuka-sensei?]
Haru's spatula froze mid-motion. He raised an eyebrow.
"M-san(Manager)? Why are you calling so early?"
[I'm here to check on your next submission. There isn't much time before the London International Art Awards. Your piece should be ready by now, correct?]
Her cool, even tone made his expression stiffen. Thanks to her reminder, he remembered the thing he'd been pushing to the back of his mind.
Between constant band activities, he hadn't had much time to draw. And even when he did, all his energy went into managing three different groups. The forgotten sketches now loomed over him like constricting coils.
After the band's recent live show, they were now preparing CDs and an MV. Ave Mujica didn't need him much for now, but Mygo had multiple upcoming gigs.
For most people, this mountain of work would feel like chains weighing them down. But for Haru, it wasn't exactly a burden.
His body was absurdly strong, practically monstrous at this point.
Still, work needed time, and with a girlfriend to spend time with, art kept getting pushed aside until, well… now.
[Yuuka-sensei?]
Her voice pulled him back. He coughed lightly, then replied as if nothing was wrong.
"It's mostly finished. I should be able to submit in the next couple of days."
[I imagine you haven't gotten very far at all.]
Her tone stayed utterly flat, so steady it was unnerving. Haru twitched an eyebrow at being seen through so easily.
Wait. Did she plant cameras in my house?
[I assure you I haven't. But since you haven't finished, time is short. I may need to supervise you in person.]
"I don't think that's necessary. Los Angeles probably needs you more than I do."
[Then I'll trust you to complete it. But remember, Paris Salon International is coming after London. You may already be a rising star, but only with these titles will the name stick.]
[If you secure eligibility for the Fantasia Exhibition before turning twenty, you'll no doubt be recognized as a world-class artist.]
Before twenty?
Haru nodded to himself, then said casually, "If I recall, the plan was for me to enter at the minimum age, then win the top Platinum Award within a year, right?"
[Indeed. I fully trust in your talent. Even before eighteen, you could take the world's highest honors. You'd stand at the very peak. But… you don't seem to care much about that?]
She wasn't wrong.
The Fantasia Exhibition was the pinnacle of the art world. But he had already simulated winning its Platinum Award before. Even if he tried, it was hard to feel invested now.
"…Got it."
After a few pleasantries, Haru hung up.
"Looks like I'll have to pick up the pace today."
"No choice… guess I'll have to skip school for real this time."
He lifted the golden-brown bacon from the pan and laid out a hearty breakfast on the table. But before he could deliver his "wake-up service," Mutsumi appeared in the living room, rubbing her eyes.
"Morning, Mutsumi."
Haru greeted her automatically. The sleepy girl gradually perked up.
"…Morning, Haru."
Her pale-green hair framed her face softly. She hugged a giant cucumber pillow to her chest, her loose green cucumber-print nightgown swaying as if she might float away any second.
She shuffled to her seat, picked up her chopsticks, and tasted the perfectly fried egg and cucumber salad. Her golden eyes immediately sparkled.
"It's delicious again today. I… really like it."
Haru's brows arched. He stood silently.
Didn't fall for the cucumber's charm on first sight, victory!
But then she said she liked his cooking, without him even asking, massive victory!
Smiling at his triumph, Haru unfastened the pink apron at his waist. As if lifting a seal, he sat beside her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her deeply.
"…"
His fiancée's cheeks flushed faintly red, but she stayed perfectly obedient in her role as his "pillow."
Maybe that thought led her on, because she lifted her head and asked softly, "I just heard… you were on the phone with M-san. Do you have work to finish today?"
"To be precise, I have a lot of work to finish. But the most important is the manuscript I need to hand over to her."
At that, a flicker of worry crossed Mutsumi's eyes. As his future wife she felt she should share his burdens, yet Mutsumi couldn't do much of anything. There was no way she could help with Haru's workload.
Her breakfast slowed half a beat, her expression hidden since she was facing away. But Haru still caught the subtle shift.
"Ah… come to think of it, there is something I'd like your help with."
"?"
Her head snapped up, surprise softening her usually expressionless face. Noticing that change, Haru's lips curved faintly.
His finger traced idly along the table. The little wooden doll seemed to sense something, because she speared half a cucumber with her fork and, with deliberate care, fed it to him.
That one caught Haru off guard.
Next time, maybe use your mouth instead.
"This is something important for my work, but not many people could really do it. The only person I can rely on right now is you, Mutsumi. Can I count on you?"
Her delicate face froze in surprise, then softened with a gentle rush of joy. Slowly, she raised her head, and determination gleamed in those golden eyes.
"Yes, I want to help."
Everyone take notes. Learn from her!
Can a coach even teach this?
Seeing his little wooden doll so earnest, Haru calmed himself with a cough. "You know my style of painting… and how much it relies on inspiration. But right now, I'm stuck at home rushing this draft, and I don't have time to gather references. Then I remembered....you're in the gardening club. So, I want to ask you to take some photos of flowers and plants at school."
"…"
Mutsumi nodded blankly, as if slowly processing his words.
Haru's smile lingered, like a villager A handing a quest to a hero. With all the seriousness of a little cucumber hero, she nodded again, her small head bobbing.
"You're the only one I can trust with this. You understand?"
She nodded firmly, face solemn.
"I understand. I'll help you, Haru."
With that, she popped the last bit of cucumber into her mouth, picked up the lunchbox as if it were a holy sword to defeat the Demon King, and dashed off to change clothes. She hurried to the entryway, every second suddenly precious.
"She looks happy."
The voice came lazily from the wall. Yahata Umiri had woken at some point and approached without a sound. Her light steps were so silent she nearly gave Haru a heart attack.
"Umiri, do you seriously walk without making footsteps?"
"I like to think I make some."
She arched a teasing brow, picked up a sausage cut into the shape of a little octopus, and just when Haru thought she'd copy Mutsumi and feed it to him, she popped it into her own mouth instead, expressionless as ever.
Before he could complain, the cool beauty suddenly leaned close.
"…!@#!"
By the time she pulled back, the tiny octopus sausage she'd bitten into had vanished without a trace.
---
[1]: Yue from Arifureta - a beautiful vampire princess who's both regal and clingy, known for latching onto her lover (sometimes literally with her teeth) while speaking in soft, spoiled tones.
