Act 1, Chapter 6: Through The Gates

Hiroki's apartment was silent at 7 p.m., and the clink of plates as he helped his mother clean up after dinner was a memory. His father was stuck in Yokohama, dealing with export-import concerns; leaving the home was emptier than normal.

Since the fiery motorcycle accident that engulfed Kaito, the spark of their chuunibyou fights, where Hiroki was the 'Dark Lord of Tartarus' and Kaito was the 'Celestial Overlord,' had dissipated, hollowing Hiroki's chest. These roleplays were significant in their relationship.

The night light subtly illuminated his bedroom, immersing him in a cocoon of isolation. He scrolled through Instagram reels; the recycled trends grated his nerves. Same old mindless shit. He sought something that would reignite the flame that Kaito had passed on to him through music.

Then, his phone buzzed—a DM from coltranegiantsteps1960.

coltranegiantsteps1960: Yo, Suede dude! Are you awake?

Hiroki blinked, surprised. Who the hell DM’ed me at this hour?!

saturdaynightwrist2006: Wait, is this Junichi Enoshima?

coltranegiantsteps1960: Yep! Got ideas for our festival song?

That was quick! Hiroki blinked. Confusion crept onto his face as he shot back with a groan.

saturdaynightwrist2006: Hell, how do I know? You tell me!

coltranegiantsteps1960: Btw, check this out!

Junichi sent a YouTube link titled Gate—Live at Minerva High School Summer Fest 2019.

coltranegiantsteps1960: You have to watch this banger, dude! This is what got me into rock!

Curiosity piqued, Hiroki clicked the link. The video loaded, and he feels like transported to the Minerva High gymnasium.

***

Six years ago, this was the most prestigious summer high school event, with the chaos of a rock concert. Gate, a three-piece teenage band from Minerva High, looked ready to own the stage.

The crowd's chatters exploded into cheers when Gate stormed the stage. Tsuyuki Tsumaki, an intense 15-year-old boy with silver-white hair and a black Telecaster Deluxe, stood atop the amp cabinet, his eyes blazing.

Nolan Webber Girling, a jock bassist, grasped the mic. "WE ARE GATE, LET'S ROCK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!" The gym exploded, with students pressing forward.

Muse's Dead Star began with Tsuyuki's distortion-soaked riffs, his fingers a blur as he yelled in a distorted microphone, Shame on you for thinking you are an exception! The audience roared; his fire fueled them. He aggressively downpicked his Telecaster and stood atop the amp cabinet like a rebel overthrowing the dictator's throne.

Nolan's black Stingray Bass snarled with a meaty, fuzzy tone, and he banged his head while belting out a backup guttural scream. Scott Ardennes Villeneuve was a beast in the black Tama kit, with thundering double kicks like an auto cannon.

The song reached its final chorus, and Tsuyuki sprang onto the stage, landing with a thud that shook the floor. And Dead Star shifted into Micro Cuts' outro, his falsetto wail evoking Matthew Bellamy's 2001 Paris Zenith performance.

The audience raise their arms and form mosh pits in front. He jumped and twirled around the stage; the audience screamed louder with each of his motions.

It sent chills down Hiroki’s spine; he dropped his jaw. This guy’s a beast! And yet he was a freshman back then!

"MINERVA ACADEMY SUMMER FEST HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY!!!" Tsuyuki yelled at the distorted microphone and pointed at the audience. Their joyful screeches nearly tore Minerva's gym hall.

It surprised Hiroki that someone at his age could command the stage like a seasoned touring musician. Tsuyuki then retuned his black Telecaster to standard.

"The next song is Combat by the Deftones. Feel free to mosh the fuck out!" Tsuyuki strummed the open string of his Telecaster. Like thunder before a rainstorm.

Then came Deftones' Combat, its sludgy weight striking like a godfist. THIS TIME, I THINK I POINTED RIGHT AT YOU! WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?! WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?!

Tsuyuki screamed with the raw, melodic snarl of Chino Moreno and the theatricality of Matthew Bellamy, aggressively downpicking his black Telecaster.

Nolan's fuzz-drenched Stingray bass combined with Scott's whirling drums, emanating a wall of sound. Some jumped and squeezed into a small mosh pit, their laughing blending with the music's intensity.

He even witnessed Tsuyuki's insanity of rushing backstage during the song's outro and jumping over the backstage chair.

They are just three, but they sound like thousands! Hiroki couldn't grasp Gate's frenetic energy anymore. He wished Suede would mimic them for the Sakuragawa Halloween Festival.

Tsuyuki returned to the stage and equipped a capo on his Telecaster's second fret. "Thank you so much, Minerva Academy Summer Fest! You guys are fucking awesome tonight!" Hiroki giggled at Tsuyuki's audacity in swearing at the school festival like it was a rock concert.

Tsuyuki exchanged a grin with Nolan and Scott before announcing. "This is our last song; it's Crush by Pendulum. But first, I want all men, women, boys, girls, cats, and dogs to mosh the fuck out for one last time! I repeat—"

Oh my God! Bruh! Hiroki chuckled at Tsuyuki's announcement.

"COME ON GUYS!!! LEMME SEE YOUR MOSHPITS FOR THE LAST TIME!!!" Nolan yelled on the mic.

The final song, Pendulum's Crush, was a chaos. Tsuyuki layered a phased distortion to Scott's fast drum & bass beats. Nolan stomped his boot against the stage's PA speaker, hyping up the crowd.

He screamed into the distorted microphone. I was running out in the cold light, wondering where to go. To run away, without you! Jumping left and right to channel the song's fury.

After the final chorus, Gate ended the song with a ferocious medley of Rage Against the Machine's Microphone Fiend and Deftones' Headup. Tsuyuki was constantly jumping on stage, Nolan banged his head, and Scott's drum thundered.

Then came Nirvana's Endless Nameless. Tsuyuki and Nolan both downtuned their instruments, incessantly plucking their strings, while Scott performed a halftime drum pattern with repeated cymbal smashes; their wall of sound was like the apocalypse.

Finally, Tsuyuki faced his Telecaster against the amp cabinet, wailing with feedback as Scott's last cymbals boomed.

The three then roared on the mic, "WE ARE GATE! WE'LL SEE YOU NEXT TIME!"

The gym erupted in applause, cheers, and whistles. The video concluded with 32k views and a 1500 likes to 42 dislikes ratio, making it the most popular video on the Minerva High School Summer Festival's YouTube channel.

Hiroki’s heart pounded with excitement. Straight to the bang, and end with a bigger bang. Fantastic!

Gate's performance was more than simply a school band performance; it was like a rock concert, raw and thrilling, beyond the mundane school festival. Hiroki's fire burned within him, similar to the one Kaito had ignited during their late-night guitar sessions.

***

Hiroki walked across the darkened room, his nightlight casting lengthy shadows. He unzipped the gig bag with a smooth zip, revealing the custom-made black-gold Les Paul.

He chuckled, remembering Kaito's joy when he commissioned it from a local guitar workshop—lighter materials, a belly cut, gold-plated hardware, and a Floyd Rose inspired by Alex Lifeson's Les Paul. All on his part-time studio staff's dime.

Hiroki had taken it in for maintenance only two weeks ago, and it looked brand new, ready to rock.

He strummed the unplugged strings; the tactile response and lightweight feel reassured him. Unlike the clunky Les Paul he'd tried in music stores, this was Kaito's gift to him. "Smart move, big bro." He murmured, a tinge of grief mingled with warmth.

Memories poured back, including Kaito's part-time job as a studio staff member to record local bands and teaching Hiroki the basics of music production using BandLab.

Hiroki's gaze shifted to the desk, where Kaito's Zoom AMS-22 interface and Zoom G1X Four multi-effect sat, passed down to him before the disaster.

He couldn’t resist. Grabbing a cable, he plugged his Les Paul into the multi-effects and into the interface, connected it to his smartphone, and slipped on his trusted IEMs for monitoring. Opening BandLab, he spent minutes tweaking settings and retuning the guitar.

He strummed, and the sound came alive—a perfect blend of vintage warmth and modern bite, ideal for everything he wanted.

Lost in his world, Hiroki riffed through chords, his fingers dancing over the fretboard. He threw in a harmonic strum, shaking the Floyd Rose to coax out a ghostly vibrato, imagining himself in the stadium with 100,000 audience members. Gate’s 2019 performance flashed in his mind; his room became a stage, the audience in his head screaming.

Hiroki was losing in his world, riffing over chords with his fingertips dancing across the fretboard. He added a harmonic strum, shaking the Floyd Rose to emanate a ghostly tremolo, imagining himself in the stadium with 100,000 people.

Gate's 2019 performance flashed in his thoughts, and his room transformed into a stage, with a crowd screaming in his head.

He looked at the clock—11:30 PM. Realizing the late hour, he knew his mother would unleash her fury if she caught him still awake. But the music drew him back.

He overlaid a simple drum loop in BandLab, changed the multi-effect to a JCM 800 distortion, and recorded a gritty riff inspired by Muse. It wasn't perfect, but it was lifelike, a glimpse of Suede's potential.

As midnight loomed, Hiroki unplugged his Les Paul, his fingertips stinging from the calluses. He returned the guitar to the gig bag. He was eager to meet Tsuyuki Tsumaki and learn how Suede could rock the Sakuragawa Halloween Festival's stage like Gate.

Hiroki smiled as he glanced at a photograph of Kaito on his desk, wielding a guitar. This is it, Big Bro. I'll make you proud!