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The band gets infinitely worse after a certain Lisa Imai joins them. Sayo had tried to keep an open mind, but there was only so much one could do with a blatant display of lesbian activity every single time they went to practise.
It’d started off so well – Yukina might have been the only person who could understand her ideals, her drive and determination to succeed at all costs. For them, there was nothing else. A vocalist and guitarist with hearts united, pure and driven to meet their goal – a basis of not petty friendship but a mutual acknowledgement of skill. It was perfect.
She’d felt it, too, in that room where they’d all played together for the very first time – something electric in her veins like ice-fire, surging in her, urging her to play a little harder, a little better, to prove that she could be good at this after all.
(A thousand days of practise had led her this far, but she was still miles away from those ten thousand hours. She wasn’t a master – not nearly, not yet. But she would be.)
And then they’d formed Roselia, and really, she should have seen it coming.
“This is my childhood friend, Lisa.”
“Hey! How’s it going?”
Too casual. Too friendly. Too nice, but she was plenty good enough with a bass in her hands provided she shut her mouth long enough to play it – and really, they didn’t need to make chit-chat outside of improvements they needed to make.
“Sayo, you still haven’t gotten that progression down,” Yukina says, creasing her brow. “Fix it.”
“Right,” she says, thumbing at a string absentmindedly. It’s been bugging her, how she can’t quite get it right. Just means she needs to practise more. Homework can wait.
(If it were Hina, she would have gotten it by now.)
No, no. Can’t think about that, not now.
(Even if it’s true.)
“Hm, I dunno, Sayo’s been working hard. It’s already a lot better than it was,” Lisa unwelcomely interjects, leaning on her amp. “We should cut her some slack. I’m sure she’ll have it perfect in a little while.”
“If it’s not perfect, then I need to work harder,” Sayo says, frowning and glaring at her feet. She can’t quite bring herself to look this Lisa in the eyes, not just yet. There’s something unnerving about her, like she knows things Sayo doesn’t, and that just pisses her off.
Lisa glances down at Sayo’s fingers – they’re red with sores from practising after-hours. If she were alone, perhaps she could bandage them, but she’s with Roselia now, and Hina’s at home, and that means she just has to endure it, even if it hurts. Lisa doesn’t say anything, but by this point Ako and Rinko are chiming in with their own inane additions. They like to parrot Lisa. It’s annoying.
But no, the worst is yet to come.
“Yukina, your voice sounded really great just there,” Lisa says, walking up to her and touching the girl – touching, always touching. “That high note was incredible.”
“Hm, is that so?” Yukina stares at her microphone, discontented. “Those low notes were a little rough. I need to do better.”
Lisa brings her hands up to Yukina’s cheeks, squeezing them gently, and – oh, for fuck’s sake.
“You’re doing really good, okay?”
Not this again.
Every practise, every damned practise, the two of get…handsy. It’s like when Hina gets clingy, but worse, because Sayo isn’t so sure one of them has pure intentions in mind. She swears, if this were some crappy anime, roses would bloom around them like the delicate flowers they are, and then Sayo would vomit onto her shoes.
Lisa glances her way, just for a second, as Yukina’s faces goes red, and Sayo looks her in the eyes as she sticks her finger down her throat and mimes being ill. She makes a gagging noise just for emphasis. Ako giggles. Heh.
Lisa doesn’t bow down, though – instead she maintains eye contact until Sayo looks away, disgusted. It’s just gross. Not to mention, it’s Lisa’s fault the only other sane member in the band is being corrupted.
Yukina is the first to leave, for once, apologising and rushing off for some event at home. It’s unlike her, but Lisa’s staying behind (unfortunately), so that means nothing’s wrong, at least.
Rinko and Ako are starting to pack up, so Sayo takes the time to take out the trash.
“What’s with you?” she says, avoiding the urge to spit fire. Lisa looks up from moving her amp, eyes wide, brows raised.
“Huh?” she says. Sayo grimaces.
“This lesbian bullshit you’re pulling with Minato-san?” Sayo hugs herself, mimicking how they hold each other sometimes when they think nobody else is looking, “Yeah. Cut it out. This is a serious band, thank you very much. You are replaceable if we decide you’re not putting in enough effort.”
Worse yet, Lisa doesn’t even look bothered. Rinko and Ako catch on – crap – and look between each other, nervous.
“Our relationship is perfectly platonic.” Lisa says, with hint of carefulness to her voice. Hm. Hmmm. “Besides, she kind of needs it, y’know?”
Sayo raises her eyebrows. This should be good.
“I dunno if any of you guys know about it, but some stuff happened a while back with her dad, and, well – look, it messes her up sometimes,” Lisa says, toying with her hair, still unfettered but eye contract dropped, “If I can distract her every now and then, it keeps her from thinking about it, and it keeps us on track to get better and better. You see?”
Oh.
Sayo feels, quite suddenly, like a bit of an asshole.
“What happened with her dad?” she feels like she has to ask, for clarity’s sake. She’s not heartless.
There’s a brief silence where Lisa looks like she’s thinking about how to phrase things, before Ako blurts it out.
“I – I think he’s dead.”
Oh.
Yeah, no, this is one is on her. She’s definitely being an asshole.
Lisa’s eyes shoot wide, her mouth opens a little and it’s one of the rare times where she seems genuinely thrown – then, after the briefest of moments, her expression goes back to that cat smile. On the other side of things, Ako looks like she regrets saying anything, and Rinko looks uncomfortable.
Good job, Sayo. Forcing your bandmates to air out your vocalist’s skeletons (literally) in the closet – yikes.
“I’m gonna…head off,” she says, turning on her heel and marching out the door. No point in staying in this kind of atmosphere. Stupid, stupid idiot. What was she thinking? ‘What happened with her dad?’ Stupid, stupid question.
Realistically, it wasn’t her fault, but god if it didn’t feel awful. Probably sucked more for Yukina though. Yikes.
---
The next time they meet up for practise, Sayo does her best to tolerate it. It’s not like things have changed, necessarily, not at all – she just has a slightly greater appreciation for those moments Lisa likes to get up close and personal with their dear vocalist.
Of course, it’s not all the time. As they go through their usual routine –
“Sayo,” Yukina says, looking her in the face, “that was good. Well done.”
“Thank you,” she says, politely. She had spent an extra three hours on that one sequence last night – a little too long for her preferences, but it got the job done. It was perfect.
(Would have only taken Hina a couple of tries, though.)
She pockets the thought in the back of her mind for later. Self-flagellation could wait till she was alone. Now, she had to be...better. For Yukina. For herself, too.
She doesn’t gag, this time, when Lisa touches all over Yukina’s shoulders and curves her body like a serpent around her, even when Lisa looks right at her. She just averts her gaze – if she doesn’t look, there’s nothing to see, probably.
So, things start to go better – they sound better every practise, though they’re a far cry from perfect.
(Not that Sayo can deny the thrill she gets in her chest when they play together, when they really play.)
But perfection is a habit, not an action, and they’ll get closer if they keep being critical.
“Ako, you went too fast at the end,” Sayo says, thinking back to how it felt. “And Rinko – your staccato was a little off in this chorus.”
The two of them nod, fervently, glancing at Yukina. It’s almost like a little unspoken alliance. For once, it feels – kind of nice?
Not that’s it’s a big deal, or anything, but it’s nice. It’s just…nice. Not like she’s ever really had a reason to feel all that connected to either of them, anyway.
It all comes crashing down the next day, though.
It’s Saturday, they’re setting up for practise, Lisa is as – like that as ever, but that’s okay. Sayo can deal with this.
Their first song goes okay – Ako drops a stick halfway through and misses half a bar of beats and that throws everyone off, but they recover well.
“Ako,” Yukina says, stony-faced, “Don’t drop your sticks. Please.”
“Haha, sorry…” Ako says, rubbed the back of her head abashedly, and then it happens.
A strange man with dark grey hair walks in, looking around.
“Oh, Yukina, there you are!” he says, walking up to her. Sayo stares, confusedly. “You forgot your lunch, so I came to drop it off.”
Huh?
“Oh,” Yukina says, face red, “thanks, papa.”
Papa?
Yukina clears her throat. “Everyone, this is my father.”
He waves at all of them. “Pleased to meet you. Thanks for treating my daughter so well.”
His daughter? But you’re dead. You can’t be here. You’re dead. You’re dead.
Lisa.
Sayo locks eyes with the girl, who stares back with a cat mouth.
She waits until the man is out the door, before she says it.
“Imai-san,” Sayo says, glowering, “you told me Yukina’s father was dead.”
Lisa is, despite everything, unaffected.
“Well,” she says, tilting her head, “technically, I never did say that. You guys came up with that all on your own. I just...didn’t help.”
Lisa grins, like this is a game. Oh no you don’t.
It ends up with Lisa perched between stacked drums and the top of the door, whilst Sayo wonders if her guitar or hitting Lisa with it is worth more to her. She loves her guitar, but – but.
Yukina, in the meanwhile, looks utterly bewildered.
“…. huh?”