Yuki's friends were an odd lot.
All weird—though not as much as the girl herself—but in the most uniform way.
Spiky black hair hanging down to cover half their faces. Black clothes with a single rainbow element that stuck out like a sore thumb. Eyeliner? On guys? Metallic piercings. And yet—
They all looked the same.
"So you have a new band now, or what?" one of them asked.
The tone was—strange?
Not that Konrad was the master of psychology, but he heard both jealousy and mockery in it.
Or was it how these guys talked by default?
He felt older than ever and completely out of place.
And holding the black guitar that he couldn't play that well—
This was becoming very embarrassing, very fast.
"A new one?" Yuki scoffed, putting her left-handed Gibson down. "I don't even have enough time for the old one. He's my Kohai, a new employee. Once I taught him the ropes, I can—"
"So playing the guitar is in the job description now?" another friend laughed.
"No, no, playing some old dad rock is," the first one added.
Okay, that did sound like an insult.
But considering they nodded along with the rhythm earlier—
He felt their emotions swirl within his mana. And now they were slandering.
"Sorry, I asked her to teach me music. Like, real one, not today's weird noise," Konrad shot back, putting his guitar down. "Didn't know it would offend a bunch of posers like you."
Whether that was the right word to insult them, he picked up a lot of weird phrases in school.
"Poser?!" And yeah, it definitely worked. "Dude, hold me down, or I'll punch him."
A laugh slipped out—and it wasn't his alone.
Yuki stepped in, one arm holding her friend back, the other wrapped around her stomach.
"You guys are hilarious," she said, hollering. "Calling Purple a dad rock? It's classic, you moron."
She flashed a serious glance at the guy, then a wink at Konrad.
"Nice clapback, Kohai-kun. But they're no posers. They're my emo-punk band."
"Yours?!" the same guy protested, knocking her hand away. "You're OUR bassist, not the other way around. And put a muzzle on your sales boy—insulting customers?!"
Right. Konrad forgot where he was for a moment.
Why was he so defensive in the first place?
As magic essence flooded his veins, he became a bit more emotional than usual.
But his senpai defused the situation with ease.
"Customers? You guys are buying something? Finally," she said, eyes wide. "A special occasion. All you did so far was try to borrow my shit or drool at the most expensive stuff. This is new."
Yeah, forget defusing.
And for reference, she was about a head shorter than those four dudes. But fearless.
She reminded Konrad of someone, so much so that it almost hurt. Who? He could see a little Kaede in her, but dialed up to eleven. There was someone like that, somewhere, sometime.
Less weird-looking, but even more chaotic.
He sighed.
"Sorry, I was getting a bit worked up from finally getting stuff right," he said, coming down from his mana-high. "I might've heard your demo the other day. It was pretty cool."
This seemed to ease the tension.
One of the sidekicks already grinned, scratching his neck. The main one—he had to be the singer or something—still shot him a glare, though.
"How long have you been playing anyway?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"He's one week old," Yuki said before he could. And what a weird way of putting it.
She shot a smug grin at her friends as if she had done something amazing.
Was that pride? About him?
Did he actually do that well?
"One week? And he's playing barre chords?! Bullshit."
Sure, he had to cheat with magic, but—
"Guess I got myself a Prodigy," Yuki smirked, hooking an arm into Konrad's. He shuddered. A prodigy? Him? Again?! People always expected too much of him. "If I drill him hard enough—"
"Oh, look, Shogun Yuki-sama is in her element," a sidekick laughed.
"Drill him, huh?" the frontman repeated it, too. "Thought you had to drill him on sales stuff, so you can come to practice with us. Next gig's in two weeks, and we still—"
"Huhunn—by then he'll play waaaaay better than you," Yuki teased. "What if I take him instead?"
Take who where?!
"You can't," her friends protested, eyes wide.
Konrad had already lost track of what was going on. Twice.
But Yuki seemed to enjoy the chaos. Way too familiar.
"You sure? The garage club's my contact. I bring the amps, too. You're coming with me if I want to, not the other way around. So whose band is it now?!"
Apart from the frontman, the other three laughed at the claim.
But it was a nervous laugh. And hell, now Konrad felt the same, too.
"What're you trying to rope me into?" he muttered, tapping her arm. "I can't, like, play in front of people. I can't even play at all. Period. They're your friends and stuff."
"Daijobu, daijobu," the emo girl waved him off with a wide grin.
She had a crooked incisor that he hadn't noticed before.
"It helps if they feel a little unsafe. Put some effort into practice, and—"
"You're the one who never shows up," the frontman pointed out. "If we suck, that's because of you. Yeah, right, you have these contacts and shit, but you're holding us back."
"Am I?" Yuki asked, crossing her arms. That might have gone too far. "Then let's see how it goes."
"Wait, what goes how?" Konrad muttered.
The existential dread of this odd situation was finally catching up with him.
Was she serious? Bring him to a gig in two weeks?
"D-do I even have a say in this?"
"Nope," the emo girl said, and that was that. "You work for me, right? This thing pays, too."
Last time he checked, his boss was Sorakumo-san, but—friend number one went pale.
"You're kidding," he said. "It doesn't pay if you can't sell tickets. Who'd want to listen to a complete beginner and a bassist? I apologise, okay? It's not dad rock, but—"
"Right, that's an issue," Yuki pondered. "Okay. We'll have like a band duel or something."
Konrad was sweating.
It was official. He had even less control over his own life here than he had in Kasserlane.
How did things turn out like this? How could he go back there before—
"My pal said to spice things up anyway. Go, find yourself a bassist. I put something together with Kohai-kun. Then we'll duel. That should fill the place, right?"
Hold on.
A crowd meant a lot of mana recovery, right? Or even more embarrassment. If he could turn music into a magical essence, would the awkwardness be enough to kill him, too?
"For calling Purple dad-rock?" The frontman shook his head. "Are you for real?!"
But to Konrad's surprise, he held out a hand.
"Fine. Guess that'll help with our popularity when we win. And then you'll come back and apologise. Or I don't know. If we find someone cooler, you'd still have to manage our gigs."
"Hah, as if I'd let you," Yuki smirked, taking that hand. "Deal. Two weeks. Don't disappoint."
Shit. Was it even possible to be decent with the guitar before that?!