Act 1, Chapter 2: Call Of The Stage

The gymnasium hall hummed with anticipation on Tuesday morning as Sakuragawa High's first-year students filed in shoulder to shoulder for the club introduction session. Hiroki Yamada pressed into a space in the center, his palms sweating from the crowd's enthusiasm.

The red curtains framed the stage, hosting a parade of clubs—soccer, tea ceremony, calligraphy, etc.—each giving predictable cliches about teamwork and tradition.

Hiroki's thoughts turned to his black-gold Les Paul, hidden at home. But for the light music club, will it live up to Kaito's claims of late-night jams and stage lights?

"And last but not least, introducing the Light Music Club!" The stage host's voice roared, jolting Hiroki back into reality. Polite claps rippled across the first-years, but a roar erupted from behind.

Second- and third-years stormed the stage, waving light sticks and shouting like they were at a rock concert. Hiroki blinked, caught off guard. What’s with this hype?

The curtains parted, revealing all three 2nd years:

Mika Sato, the club president, grinning as she tests the snares and toms on her small Tama kit. Ren Takahashi, with a hoodie on, adjusted her Yamaha keyboard, her fingers bouncing across the keys for a soundcheck. And Sora Nakamura, the cool, sarcastic club's vice president, took center stage, wielding a brown short-scaled Ibanez bass with a multi-effects unit at his feet.

Hiroki’s jaw dropped. "Singing and playing bass? How’s that even possible?" Bass was the most underestimated role of any band, laying down the groove while guitarists stole the spotlight. Yet Sora's laid-back smirk looked ready to own the stage.

Sora leaned toward the mic, waving his hand in confidence. "We are Procorat, guys! Let's wake this place up!" The band's name caught Hiroki's ears like a dissonant chord—quirky, yet memorable.

Mika lifted her drumsticks, counted four clacks, and the band erupted. The music erupted like a supervolcano. Sora’s bass did not hum—it growled, meaty and fuzzy, each pluck ringing with a guitar-like edge.

Hiroki’s eyes widened. H-hold on! This isn’t normal bass! It was sharp and aggressive.

Mika's drums hammered with reckless fury, and her fills channeled Dave Grohl's primal rhythm. Ren's synth rumbled through the floor, emanating sci-fi noises that gave an extraterrestrial feel.

"Royal Blood influence," a voice said to Hiroki's right. "With a crude marriage of Queens of the Stone Age and The White Stripes." He turned to find Aoi Mizuno, her eyepatch gleaming beneath the gym lights, standing with her arms folded. For once, her chuunibyou flair was absent.

Hiroki nodded, too astonished to respond. She was right. Their original song, written in hard-hitting C minor, sounded like a love letter to gritty American desert rock, with a Japanese twist.

Sora's voice was rough, like Mike Kerr's seductive sneer. His bass lines alternated between lead and rhythm. Ren bobbed her head, her fingers a blur as she layered eerie synth arpeggios. Mika grinned; her groove was like a hurricane.

The solo came next. Sora repeatedly stomped his multi-effects pedal, changing the deep rumble bass tone to a piercing, guitar-like howl. Hiroki's heartbeat quickened. He's playing bass like a lead guitar? How is that even possible?! It was unconventional, yet thrilling.

Ren didn't back down! Her keyboard's synth burst into a quick arpeggio as she banged her head. The two appeared to duel for the spotlight, lost in their frequencies as they clashed in a chaotic harmony.

Sora and Ren suddenly crouched down and silenced their instruments to point at Mika. The audience erupted as she unleashed a quick, wild drum solo, her sticks racing over the toms.

The second- and third-year students went wild, yelling "Procorat! Procorat!" Even first-year students were bouncing and yelling like they were at a rock festival rather than a school gymnasium.

The song ended with a bang. Sora let out a falsetto wail, smacking his bass strings for a final distorted chord. Ren’s synth soared into a shimmering solo, and Mika closed with a thunderous roll across her kit.

The gym erupted in applause, glow sticks waving like a sea of stars.

Sora grabbed the mic and caught his breath. "Thank you very much, everyone! We are the Procorat of the Light Music Club. We're looking for more members; join us in Room B-12 to rock the world!" The group waved their hands and departed from the cries of "Encore!"

Hiroki's pulse was thumping. Procorat's performance wasn't just good; it was a fire that ignited deep within his soul, a flame he hadn't felt since Kaito's live performances. His fingers twitched, itching for strings.

A poke at his waist jolted him. Aoi stood beside him, her visible eye gleaming. "I feel it… the call of the stage," her voice soft but intense. "The Divine Eye yearns to unleash its rhythm."

Hiroki glanced at her, then broke into a grin. "Well, what are you waiting for? Wanna go to their room?"

Aoi’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. "Yes!" Her excitement was raw.

They moved through the scattering crowd. Procorat had shown him what the Light Music Club might be: a place to express his music, his pain, and even his repressed "Dark Lord" side.

***

Hiroki and Aoi hurried through the cherry blossom-lined path to Room B-12, their steps rapid with eagerness. Procorat's powerful performance in the gymnasium lingered in Hiroki's veins like a riff he couldn't stop playing.

"You saw how they owned that stage." Hiroki spoke, holding his school bag. "Sora-senpai's bass was like a guitar on steroids! And Mika-senpai's drumming? Insane!"

Aoi's eyepatch reflecting the afternoon light. "The priestess senses their might. The Divine Eye yearns to join such a covenant." She hesitated with a hint of sorrow, "You'll play, won't you? To honor your brother's flame?"

Hiroki’s chest tightened at the mention of Kaito. "Y-Yeah," he softly nodded. "That's what I wanna do."

Aoi smirked, a spark of her usual theatrics returning. "Then prepare, Dark Lord of Tartarus. The stage awaits us."

Approaching Room B-12, they came to a standstill. The corridor was swarming with first-year students, buzzing with chatter and nervousness. At least two dozen students held club application forms; their voices mingled over Procorat's performance. The door to the small club room cracked open, showing a chaotic scene within.

"Seems like they’re carefully hand-picking someone worthy to be one of them," Aoi muttered, eyeing the crowd.

Hiroki chuckled with a slight dread. "The room’s too damn small for this."

Inside, Mika stood on a chair, waving her arms to calm the crowd. Sora sat on a club couch, mildly annoyed, and Ren rapidly texted on her phone with her hood pulled low. He's right; the space was too small even for a full band.

"Everyone, this is the club's president speaking!" Mika's voice was cheery yet firm. "I want all of you to be quiet and prove your talents, whether or not you are permitted to join. Keep that in mind; our room's small, and we're just seeking twelve people this time."

Hiroki and Aoi squeezed onto the wooden floor and sat cross-legged with the other twenty-seven first-years. The air was thick with anticipation, with students chatting about their instruments and song choices.

She nudged him. "What shall thou do on the stage?"

Hiroki's enthusiasm bubbling up with a nervous chuckle, "I wanna be like Matthew Bellamy’s Japanese cousin. You?"

Aoi leaned closer and dramatically whispered. "I shall wield the axe of divine strings and the voice of the cosmos to counter thy blackened reigns."

Hiroki chuckled, then raised an eyebrow. "Guitar and vocals too? Bold. I’ll race you there!"

Aoi smirked, her chuunibyou flair in full swing. "The priestess accepteth thy challenge, Dark Lord of Tartarus."

Sora moved forward, clutching a stack of blank paper. Mika and Ren encircled him, Ren holding up her phone with a message: Write it up.

Sora's voice broke through the chatter with a brief loud clap. "Okay, kids, listen up. We're only picking twelve members today since the room can't handle more. Write down your preferred instrument and a song for the audition. Better yet, keep it under three minutes!"

Mika and Ren passed out the papers, and the room fell silent. Hiroki picked up a pencil, his decision obvious. Guitar and vocals. He'd dreamed of ruling the stage like Muse's frontman, controlling both riffs and lyrics.

He was hesitant about the song's choices. Deftones was tempting, but too rough for an acoustic audition. Muse was too complex without a band. Then it hit him: Radiohead's Street Spirit (fade out). Its melancholy and sorrowful tune felt appropriate, a homage to Kaito's night acoustic strumming with him.

He glanced at Aoi, who was spinning her pencil like a butterfly knife. Curiosity got him good. "By the way, what song are you gonna play?"

Aoi's gaze shifted toward him, a mischievous grin spreading. "The priestess shall not betray my very secrets to the Dark Lord himself." She shielded her paper with her bandaged arm.

Hiroki snorted, shaking his head. "Fine, keep your mysteries, Miss Priestess."

The room was buzzing as the other first-years filled out their paperwork. A nearby girl mentioned playing flute to a J-Pop song. A tall, punky boy brags about shredding a Metallica riff. And more.

Hiroki handed his paper to Mika, who gave him a thumbs-up. Aoi passed hers to Ren, who nodded silently.

Sora gathered the forms and examined them with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, we've got a lot of vocalists, some guitarists, some keyboardists, a few drummers, and… one saxophone?"

He glanced at a nervous boy in the back, who shrank from the spotlight and clenched his saxophone bag. "We'll start auditions at twelve. Get ready."

Hiroki's pulse raced. The audition made the room feel smaller by the second. Aoi adjusted her eyepatch beside him; her gaze was a combination of confidence and nervousness. Hiroki pondered for the first time what was below her chuunibyou act.

Mika tuned the small Tama kit, Ren tested her Yamaha keyboard, and Sora tuned his brown Ibanez bass and the club's battered acoustic guitar.

Twenty-seven hopefuls. Twelve spots. He and Aoi needed to stand apart. The stage has been set; the Dark Lord and Priestess must rise, bracing for the most difficult challenge to reach the summit.