Volume 1, Chapter 1: The Awakening Of Frequency

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom outside Sakuragawa High School, their petals drifting like pink snow across the courtyard. Hiroki Yamada adjusted his tie, his heart thumping as he stepped through the school gates for the first time. A new high school, a fresh start. No one here knew about his middle school days—the dramatic monologues, the "Dark Lord of Tartarus" persona, or that one cringe-inducing solo vocal performance of Deftones’ Elite with such guttural screams that left the festival crowd stunned silent. He could be normal now, just a boy with a guitar and a dream to honor his late brother Kaito’s love for music.

The entrance ceremony dragged on with speeches about “youth” and “potential.” Hiroki’s mind wandered to Kaito’s old black-gold custom Les Paul, now tucked safely in his room. He could still hear his brother’s voice: “Feel the strings, Hiro. Let the music scream what you can’t say.”

The memory stung, but it also pushed him forward. He’d join the Light Music Club, get better at guitar, and maybe even sing again. No theatrics this time, just music.

Class 1-A was a flurry of new faces and nervous chatter. Hiroki slid into a desk by the window, hoping to blend in. The teacher, an enthusiastic woman with glasses, started roll call. He barely listened until a shadow loomed over his desk.

“We’ve finally met again… Dark Lord.”

The voice was low, dramatic, and oddly familiar. Hiroki looked up to see a girl—short, around his shoulder, with jet-black shoulder-length wavy bobbed hair. An eyepatch covered her left turquoise eye, and a bandage wrapped her left arm like some makeshift gauntlet. She stood with one hand on her hip, the other gripping a pencil like a dagger, her visible eye glinting with intensity.

The classroom went quiet. Every head turned. Hiroki’s stomach dropped.

“Uh… what?” he managed, his voice cracking.

The girl leaned closer, her eyepatch tilting slightly. “Do not move!” she declared, thrusting the pencil toward him in a theatrical flourish. “Thy crimes shall be judged, and thou shalt face the wrath of the Divine Eye, blessed by Laconia and the mother of all gods!”

Snickers rippled through the class. A boy in the back whispered, “Is she for real?” A girl near the front hid a giggle behind her hand.

Hiroki’s face burned. Memories flooded back—middle school, his black coat with fake chains, shouting about “ruling the abyss” during lunch breaks. And this girl… he knew her. Aoi Mizuno, the one who’d called herself “The Priestess” and challenged him to “duels” with in the courtyard.

Before he could respond, Aoi struck a pose, her pencil pointed to Hiroki’s eyes. “Dark Lord of Tartarus, you dare to invade this sacred sanctuary? Thy ends is now!”

“Pipe it down, girl!” A cheerful voice cut through the tension. A girl with a single braided light brown hair and a bright grin bounced over. She grabbed Aoi’s arm, gently lowering the pencil. “It’s, like, the first day. Let’s not start with… whatever this is.”

Aoi blinked, her dramatic aura faltering. “The Priestess shall not yield to—”

“Yeah, yeah, super cool magic stuff, got it!” She winked at Hiroki, unfazed. “You okay, new guy? She’s probably just hyped about some anime or something.”

Hiroki forced a smile, his heart still racing. “I’m fine. Just… What the hell is this?”

The teacher clapped her hands. “Settle down, everyone. Miss Mizuno, take your seat.”

Aoi Mizuno huffed, shooting Hiroki one last glare before flouncing to a desk in the back. The class resumed its chatter, but Hiroki felt eyes on him. Great. It was only the first day, and he had already been called out by the girl with the weird eyepatch.

***

Lunch break couldn’t come fast enough. Hiroki slipped into the empty staircase and emptied his bento as he scrolled through his phone’s music library. Muse’s Supermassive Black Hole blasted through his IEM, the riff steadying his nerves. He needed a plan. No more “Dark Lord” nonsense. He’d find the Light Music Club, join, and focus on guitar. Kaito would’ve wanted that.

A faded poster on a bulletin board caught his eye: “Light Music Club! Join us and rock the world! Room B-12.” The text was cheery and yet corny, but the paper was crinkled, like it had been there for years. Hiroki’s pulse quickened. This was it.

Room B-12 was tucked at the end of a quiet hallway. The door was ajar, revealing a cluttered space with amps, a drum kit, and posters of old rock bands like Nirvana, The Pillows, and more plastered on the walls.

A bright girl with long pink hair—lightly banging on the small Tama drum kit, her enthusiasm outweighing her rhythm. A lanky boy with slightly messy brown hair tuned an acoustic guitar, muttering about “crappy strings.” And in the corner, a girl with a school hoodie pulled low typed furiously on her phone, her face hidden.

She spotted him first. “Yo, new guy! You play?”

Hiroki hesitated, waved, then nodded. “Y-Yeah. Guitar. And… I sing a bit.”

“Sweet!” She hopped off the drum stool. “I’m Mika Sato, a 2nd-year drummer and the current club president. That’s Sora Nakamura. 2nd years too, and our current vice club president,” she pointed to him, who gave a lazy wave, “and that’s Ren Takahashi, 2nd year and our keyboard wizard. She’s shy and only prefers to text instead.”

Ren glanced up, her eyes barely visible under her hood, and held up her phone with a TTS voice: "Hi."

Sora squinted at Hiroki. “Are you any good? We’re kind of desperate. The club’s on the chopping block if we don’t get more members.”

Before Hiroki could answer, the door swung open with a bang. Aoi strode in, eyepatch gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “The priestess has arrived!” she announced, then froze when she saw Hiroki. “You… Dark Lord, dare to infiltrate this sanctuary of frequency?”

Mika groaned, looking away. “Calm down, kid. He's here to join, not… whatever you’re on about...”

Hiroki sighed, setting his bag down. “Look, Aoi, I’m not the Dark Lord anymore. That was middle school. I just want to play music.”

Aoi’s eye narrowed. “The Dark Lord never truly fades. Thy soul still burns with the abyss of fire.” She paused, then smirked. “But… the Divine Eye senses rhythm in you. Prove thy worth.”

Sora rolled his eyes. “You in or what?”

Hiroki glanced around the room—the worn instruments, Mika’s eager grin, Ren’s quiet presence, even Aoi’s absurd intensity. It felt chaotic, messy, and alive. Like something Kaito would’ve loved.

“I’m in,” he said, a spark igniting in his chest.

Mika cheered, Ren typed "Yay," and Sora nodded, handing him a spare acoustic guitar. Aoi crossed her arms, muttering about “testing the Dark Lord’s resolve.”

As Hiroki strummed the first chord and plucked each string with precision, he felt a weight lift. Maybe this place, these weirdos, could be home.

But in the back of his mind, Aoi’s words echoed. The Dark Lord never truly fades. He pushed the thought away, but a part of him wondered if his old self might just sneak back out—especially with a guitar in his hands.

He strummed the chord for the last time, and the room suddenly erupted in light applauses. “Hey, not bad, kid.” Sora clapped with a nod of approval.

Until Mika Sato then approached Hiroki and clenched his hands with a bright enthusiasm. “That was something else! What’s your name, kid?” But Hiroki didn’t realize that his mediocre playing garnered more attention to the LMC senpais. “Hiroki Yamada, 1st year of 1-A. Nice to meet you.”

That further fueled her brightness like the Sirius star. She harshly shook Hiroki’s hand with an enthusiastic plea, “Nice to meet you, Hiroki-kun! Your playing was great! Want to join our band?”

Hiroki knew he want to join the LMC, but not the senpais' bands. He glanced down, and turned it down. “Uhh… I’d rather think about it…” He looked away from Mika’s brightening aura.

But before he could elaborate any further, the school bell reverberated in the surroundings, a sign that the lunch break had ended.

“By the way, maybe next time...” He then dragged Aoi out from the old, dusty LMC room with a rising anxiety. Worried that some kids in this school recognized his middle school's Dark Lord persona.

Right as both walked their way back to classroom 1-A, he then glanced at Aoi with frustration. “What the hell are you thinking in there?!” Even witnessing others’ chuunibyou already gives him a cringe.

But Aoi stood firm with her stance. “Why? Wouldn’t it be better if you did the same as your middle school festival?”

“Pipe it down!” Hiroki suddenly karate chopped Aoi’s head. Surprised her as she covered her head from the slight pain. “Don’t you ever bring up that humiliation ritual again!” He pointed at her with a warning.

But Aoi pouted, “You’re a coward,” knowing that Hiroki had downgraded into more of a sissy boy than she used to know.

“At least I’m not a dumbass like you.” Hiroki pointed at Aoi with increasing frustration at her chuunibyou.

With that, both Hiroki and Aoi then walked their way back to classroom 1-A. Hoping that they would blend it with the brand-new environment. Maybe that's what he would've thought.