"You looked really professional just now when giving your critique, Kyo." Umiri's words sounded like a compliment, but her flat, detached tone made it impossible to tell whether she was being sincere or just making a dry joke.
"That's because this girl used to order a drink from RiNG every single time before band practice. Not just coffee—she'd have tea all the time too. She'd even step out in between practice sessions just to get another one," Taki said, clearly exasperated.
"Is that so?" Umiri could easily picture it. If Kyo really had that habit, then Taki must have scolded her back then for being careless and unserious.
But looking at them now, their relationship didn't seem bad at all. In fact, Taki's attitude toward Kyo was much better than when she spoke to that long-haired girl with the warm, friendly appearance—what was her name again? Nagasaki Soyo, maybe? Compared to her, Taki was noticeably more at ease with this girl, who had a cool, almost tranquil presence.
"I did take practice seriously, you know! Even you wouldn't be able to pick out any mistakes in my playing, right, Taki?" Kyo protested lightly, as if she were being unfairly accused of only caring about her drinks. Then, as if to make a point, she downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp.
"Sure, sure. After all, you always manage to play your parts perfectly in just a short time. With skills like that, why won't you take the lead guitar role?"
Taki responded casually, taking Kyo's empty cup and turning away to wash it in the sink, hiding the shadow that flickered in her eyes.
"Mutsumi is great on lead guitar, too. There's no reason to switch," Kyo replied.
"That just sounds like an excuse to slack off," Umiri pointed out mercilessly.
"Don't call me out like that, Umiri! Taki already gets annoyed at me enough for it!"
Yeah, she did get annoyed. Taki's hands froze for a moment as she washed the cup but quickly resumed.
Kyo had so much skill—far more than Taki herself—but she wasted it. It was infuriating to watch. Infuriating, and… enviable.
Without realizing it, she applied too much pressure, knocking the cup against the side of the sink. A sharp, brittle sound rang out.
"Ah, damn it." Taki quickly picked up the cup. Luckily, it hadn't cracked or chipped.
"Wow, looks like you really can't stand her," Umiri remarked, tilting her head to try and peek past Taki's back to see what had happened. "You even took it out on the cup."
"I'm sorry, Taki! Forgive me, okay?" Kyo immediately flopped onto the counter, blinking up at her with wide, pleading blue eyes, looking as pitiful as possible.
"You two—" Taki let out a laugh, caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. These two had only just met, yet somehow, they were already working together to gang up on her.
"This has nothing to do with you, Kyo. I just lost my grip on the cup."
Before they could keep pressing her, Taki swiftly changed the subject. "Anyway, what are you even doing here at RiNG today? You're never the type to take the initiative when it comes to practice, and the band's already disbanded… all because of her."
She had only meant to redirect the conversation, but the moment those words slipped out, frustration surged up in her chest. By the time she got to the last few words, her voice was practically seething.
Still mad at Sakiko, huh? Kyo thought, suddenly remembering how their last conversation had ended. She had messaged Taki on Line back then, only for Taki—still fuming—to cut things off entirely, refusing to even mention Sakiko's name.
Now that she thought about it, even after all this time, she still didn't know exactly what had happened that rainy day when everything fell apart.
Sakiko wouldn't talk about it. Soyo kept defending her, saying things could be solved if they just talked things through. Mutsumi never found the right chance to speak up, and Tomori would get upset just hearing about it…
Even if Taki's version wasn't entirely objective, she might be the only one who could give Kyo any answers.
Just as Kyo was contemplating how to coax the truth out of her, Umiri suddenly nudged her shoulder with her elbow.
Taki was still washing the cup, unaware of whatever nonsense the other two were about to pull.
Kyo turned to look at Umiri, only to see her usually cool, expressionless face twisting into an exaggerated series of winks and nods. She jerked her chin toward Taki, then shot Kyo a look, her eyes darting around theatrically.
…
TMD, Kyo almost lost it right then and there.
She was beyond grateful for all the years she had spent honing her acting skills, mastering the art of controlling her expression.
I mean, sure, Taki's short temper completely ruined the elegant aura she should have had with those deep violet eyes, long black hair, and that beauty mark, but at least she had those sharp, upturned eyes to balance it all out, making the contrast somewhat… intriguing.
But Miss Umiri, are you seriously going to make faces like that with your appearance and outfit?
Kyo felt like all the water in her brain was about to leak out after witnessing Umiri's full-on, grotesquely exaggerated display.
That was her first thought.
Her second thought?
She lost.
She had come in prepared today, confident that she had covered all her bases. And yet, despite all that, this kind of heinous event had still managed to unfold—something so absurd that it shattered her careful calculations and completely threw her off balance.
No way—no way! Kyo refused to be defeated in some bizarre comedy routine! This was supposed to be her moment to take the lead, to skillfully maneuver the conversation and get Taki to open up. Why had it suddenly turned into a slapstick scene?
What made it even worse was that, somehow, she actually understood what Umiri was trying to convey through that chaotic mess of an expression.
Taki. You. The band. What happened?
Or something along those lines.
Kyo quickly glanced at Taki, who still hadn't turned around, then swiftly pulled out her phone. She tapped out a message—I don't know either. I want to find out.—and silently slid it over for Umiri to see.
Don't look at me like that! That disappointed expression wasn't something a refined and composed bartender should ever make! One deadpan comedian was more than enough!
Fortunately, this time, Umiri simply blinked and nodded without making a scene.
Kyo still had no idea why Umiri had been so strangely antagonistic toward her at first, but at least now, they seemed to be on the same side.
"You two—what are you up to now?"
Taki had finally finished washing the cup. After putting it away, she turned around, only to find Kyo and Umiri sitting up with strangely proper postures.
"Nothing," they answered in perfect sync.
Taki frowned, her face full of suspicion.
But one of them was a deadpan joker, and the other was a master of effortless deception.
There was no way someone as straightforward as Taki could see through them.