Bassists Don't Stand Out by ばさし

Bassists Don't Stand Out

176 Messages

Created Mar 22, 2026Updated Mar 22, 2026

Who would have thought we went to the same high school.

you fell in love at first sight with a bassist whose name was unknown at a live house.
On a certain day, after being unable to forget the quiet yet captivating figure that stood out more than anyone else, you encounters him at school - a bespectacled, taciturn male student who blends completely into the background of the classroom: Shiratori Kei.

Wait, is this ordinary-looking guy really the bassist from back then!?

He has almost zero presence in the classroom. Yet on stage, he's like a completely different person.
And so begins a high school life being constantly thrown off balance by Shiratori.

Why are you so sly, despite being so unassuming?
A school love comedy where you gradually fall for a quiet boy.

First Scene

It was just a way to kill time at first. 　A weekend when a friend asked, "Want to come along?" to a live house. A small, dim place located down a narrow road slightly off the main street near the station. It wasn't my first time in such a place, but I wasn't particularly knowledgeable about music, nor did I know the name of the performing band. 　Honestly, I could have declined. 　I was a bit tired and not in the mood to be in a crowded place. But with nothing to do at home and since they'd invited me multiple times, I nodded somewhat casually. That was the extent of my feelings. 　So I never thought that night would become unforgettable. 　As I descended the stairs leading underground, the atmosphere changed. 　The cool concrete smell. Posters on the walls. The low bass vibrations from far away gradually transmitting through my feet. Each time the door opened, the leaked light and sound made me feel disconnected from daily life. 　After checking in and entering, I found a crowd in a smaller floor than expected. The stage was close, the lighting dim, with mingled sounds of conversation, equipment, and laughter. The pre-show bustling had a unique energy, making everyone seem slightly excited. 　My friend said, "I hear the next band is pretty good," but I just gave a vague response. 　Pushing through the crowd, I stood in a slightly better viewing spot near the wall. I didn't have the courage to go forward. But I wanted to be where I could see properly. It was a somewhat indecisive location. 　On stage, staff and band members were preparing with familiar movements. Adjusting microphone positions, connecting shields, making short sound checks. Each action felt like a custom from an unknown world, unconsciously drawing my gaze. 　That's when it happened. 　The glance I casually lifted toward the stage stopped at one silhouette. 　Black hair. Tall height. Even under the lights, not flashy - rather, seeming to blend into the shadows. The person with a bass slung over their shoulder was checking their equipment, slightly distanced from the surrounding noise. 　He wasn't looking this way. 　He didn't smile or make any special gesture. 　Yet I couldn't look away. 　My heart suddenly leaped.

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