Act 1, Chapter 8: Come Alive

Suede’s trio with their shy coach senpai were sitting on the empty stairway. The practice sessions were underway with the blaring noise of Toriteba's instruments that could be heard across the hallway.

Hiroki set aside his Les Paul gig bag, his mind still buzzing with the Gate video’s raw intensity and the demo he’d crafted Tuesday night.

Junichi twisted a drumstick borrowed from Mika's small Tama kit. "Alright, that demo, what does it sound like?" His eyes were sparkling with eagerness.

Hiroki took out his phone and opened BandLab. "It's just me noodling around with riffs, not even a whole song."

He pressed play; a groovy, distorted guitar riff filled their ears, reminiscent of classic British hard rock vibes. A harmonic solo began at the 30-second mark, followed by a Matthew Bellamy-esque whammy divebomb. It may not be a shredfest like Herman Li or Kirk Hammett, but it is punchy and soulful.

The demo ended at 1:30 with a harmonic divebomb, astounding Junichi, Aoi, and Ren.

Ren’s phone flashed with text-to-speech, emitting her soft but analytical synthetic voice. "That’s good. But the sound's too muddy."

Aoi’s visible eye glinted, her chuunibyou flair rising. "Respectable, Dark Lord. But the priestess demands a frequency that shakes the very abyss itself."

Junichi's grin widened with excitement, his finger pointing eagerly at Hiroki’s phone. "Maybe add some groovy beats, like double-kick flair if you can. Got a title in mind?"

But Hiroki’s thoughts shifted to Kaito—the fiery accident, aching him hollow. He softened, shaking his head. "Sorry, it’s just a demo. I’m thinking of something bigger."

Junichi and Aoi dropped their heads, slightly disappointed. But it faded when Ren's text-to-speech rang in. "Have you guys heard about Evanescence?"

The three nodded in unison. Aoi's voice sparked with passion. "Yes! Their melodies are ethereal!"

Junichi laughed, his eyes full of nostalgia. "Dude! That takes me back to middle school! Remember those AMVs with Bring Me To Life? That's why!"

Hiroki's mind lit up; an idea crystallized. "Guys! What if we blend Evanescence's gothic vibes, Deftones' shoegaze edge, and Muse's theatrical chaos in our own song? Objections?"

But Junichi briefly laughs. "Only one: What are the chords?"

Hiroki grinned as he opened his gig bag, displaying a black-gold Les Paul with a gold Floyd Rose and locking tuners. It grasped them as Junichi touched its glossy body. "Dude, what a beauty she is!" he said.

The guitar's lightweight feel and tactile response drew gasps of amazement. "This one's way comfier than most Les Pauls, by the way." Hiroki smiled.

Aoi opened her smaller gig bag as she pulled out a 3/4-sized Yamaha nylon guitar, its body showing a slight dent from age. Tuned to D# Standard, her fingers flowed across each fret with precision while she sang gently.

Junichi followed with air drumming, hitting his sticks to an imaginary beat. Hiroki saw Aoi's 3/4 Yamaha nylon. "Where'd you get that guitar?" he asked.

Aoi paused her playing. "Oh, Belladonna?" She displayed her 3/4 Yamaha nylon.

"Belladonna?!" Hiroki, Junichi, and Ren's eyes widened in surprise.

"I named her." Her eyes softened, and she gently smiled. "It's a birthday gift from my sister," her fingers gently plucking each string. "Previously strummed by a fearless yet devoted frequency warrior."

Secondhand. Hiroki thought. But he giggled at the idea of naming a musical instrument like a pet.

"Kinda sexy, tho." Junichi chuckled, jabbing at Aoi's guitar name.

As they experimented with different rhythms, Ren's text-to-speech voice broke through. "You know, I might have misunderstood you. You're luckier than I expected."

Junichi halted his air drumming. "What do you mean, Ren-senpai?"

Her phone spoke again. "Hiroki's DAW knowledge gives you an advantage. Sure, Mika and Sora are still teaching them the basics of DAW, but you're ahead. No insult to them, but you could finish your song faster."

The trio nodded. But Hiroki’s idea suddenly surged. "Alright, here’s the plan: I’ll build the song’s base in BandLab—riffs, MIDI, maybe a drum loop. You guys tell me what to add."

Ren’s text-to-speech added, "Don’t forget the mixing. It's crucial to carefully balance each track’s EQ to prevent any clipping."

"Got it!" Hiroki nodded, his mind racing with possibilities.

Hiroki and the others were crafting a song that blends Evanescence’s gothic melancholy, Deftones’ shoegaze edge, and Muse’s theatrical chaos and grandeur.

***

Minutes feel like eternity; Suede's trio still huddled with Ren Takahashi, immersed in their shared synesthesia of frequency.

The distant rumbling of Toriteba's practice session echoed across the hallway, but the trio huddled on Ren's phone, where she was showing various Procorat's original songs on her Cubasis app.

She was the driving force behind their synthesizers, ambiance, mixing, and mastering. She shared False Horizon, one of their originals, which they played at the school club presentation last Tuesday in the gym hall.

The song opened with Sora's beefy, fuzz-drenched bass, struck with the raw edge of a guitar. The drumming was thumping but groovy, anchoring the rhythm with accuracy. And Ren's synthesizers created a dark, sci-fi atmosphere, with the pulsing undercurrent of dystopia.

Sora's voice entered, gentle yet powerful. Hiroki caught the lyrics' meaning—an existential crisis, a soul searching for purpose in a fragmented world.

The solo section after the chorus was a duel between Sora's bass wailing like a lead guitar and Ren's cascading synth arpeggios, a clash of frequency that seemed alive. A brief pause gave way to a Mika-esque drum solo, raw and persistent, before the track ended with Sora's falsetto, a thundering drum outro, and Ren's last arpeggio flourish.

The Suede trio burst into applause, their expressions filled with admiration for Ren's craftsmanship. The tracks were crowded, yet the sound was balanced, and each detail could be heard.

Aoi's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Thy frequency was diabolical! I need holy water! Godspeed!" She dramatically closed her face.

Ren chuckled and blushed. "This is an example of proper mixing and mastering." Her text-to-speech response was synthetic yet serene.

Hiroki nodded, still humming. "The live version was crazier, but this one rocks too!"

But Sora's sudden presence cut off their chatter, his tall body looming in the. "Sorry for interrupting, Suede kids. I need to speak with Hiroki Yamada in private." His stare was pointing at Hiroki, giving a feeling of urgency.
Hiroki's stomach twisted. Wait, am I in trouble? Aoi and Junichi shrugged with confusion, giving him no choice but to follow Sora.

***

Sora stood in front of Hiroki in a quiet corner outside the school's old science laboratory, distant from any chatter. He crossed his arms, his tall figure towering above Hiroki's shorter frame.

Hiroki shifted nervously. "What’s up, Sora-senpai? D-did I do... something wrong?"

Sora’s gaze on Hiroki softened. "No. It’s about your brother. Kaito Yamada."

Hiroki’s breath caught. "M-my brother?" He raised his eyebrows, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sora nodded, his tone low. "He was my mentor while I worked part-time at Studio Boogie. He taught me mixing, mastering, recording—everything. After that... fiery accident, I felt... empty. He's the one that pushed my passion for sound engineering. But without him, it's all in vain. I almost quit."

Hiroki's chest clenched; he remembered Kaito's casual jests, roleplaying, guitar lessons, and the fiery crash that had taken him away.

Sora approached Hiroki as if hiding a tear. "When you walked into the clubroom, it hit me! You share the same fire as him. Your street spirit at the audition? I swear, I thought, 'Kaito? Is that you?' You sparked something in me, something... to make him proud."

Hiroki swallowed hard, the weight of Sora’s words hitting home. "So that’s why... your Procorat’s showcase last Tuesday came alive?"

"Exactly," Sora gently nodded, a slight smile emerging. He patted Hiroki's shoulder. "Hiroki, you've got this talent passed down by your brother. Don't waste it, ok?"

Hiroki nodded, a slight smile curving his lips. Feeling a sense of responsibility for him. "I won't, Senpai."

Sora smiled wider. "Good. Yakomori's up now. You've got twenty minutes till Suede's slot."

Hiroki rejoined Aoi and Junichi by the empty staircase, but his mind was swirling. Ren glanced at him, her text-to-speech curious. "Everything’s okay? What did he say to you?"

"It's all cool," Hiroki chuckled, his voice steadier. "Just… got some inspiration."

Aoi raised an eyebrow, her chuunibyou flair sparking with a brewing storm of creativity. "The Dark Lord harbors secrets?"

Hiroki chuckled, shaking his head. "Just thinking about our song. I want it to hit hard, shake the stage, and touch the heart, like we would’ve wanted."

Junichi rhythmically tapped his drumstick against his palm, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Welp, let’s burn the kitchen, then!"

Hiroki strapped on his Les Paul and worked on his BandLab. Suede’s fire was just beginning to burn and to further come alive.