Act 1, Chapter 10: Nothing To Waste

Inside Room B-12, Suede’s trio dove into their practice session, guided by Ren Takahashi-senpai’s quiet presence. The newly renovated clubroom hummed with their energy. Hiroki abruptly halted their Hysteria jam and quickly turned off his Les Paul’s volume knob. “Guys, let’s try something else. Follow my lead.”

He downtuned his low E string for a Drop D setup. His fingers struck an E minor chord eight times, dissonant and heavy, before shifting to D major for another eight, looping back and forth.

Junichi caught the vibe, smacking the open hi-hat four times before launching into a groovy drumbeat, layered with a subtle swing.

Hiroki’s chords, drenched in phaser and lush spring reverb via his Zoom G1X Four, took on a shoegazy haze, echoing Deftones’ atmospheric edge.

Aoi didn’t stand idle. Her weathered black Ibanez GSRM20B bass, a gift from Sora, growled through the Zoom B1X Four with a beefy, fuzzy tone. She laid down a pulsing bassline, driving the jam with adrenaline.

Hiroki banged his head, swaying side to side, while Aoi mirrored him, her petite frame rocking with the rhythm. They weren’t as ferocious as Yakomori’s metalcore chaos, but their sound was thick, raw—mosh pit-worthy.

Ren sat on the couch, nodding along, her phone recording the session. Hiroki leaned into the mic, humming inaudible lyrics, his voice carrying Chino Moreno’s ethereal waver.

The jam felt like a blend of Deftones’ Digital Bath and Be Quiet and Drive mixed with Evanescence’s Bring Me to Life—dark, emotive, and soaring.

The chorus hit, and Hiroki unleashed an inaudible scream, his fingers sliding through bar chords: Em, G, Dm, repeat. Aoi joined in, her soft hum contrasting like an angelic choir to his demonic wail, evoking Amy Lee’s haunting grace. The room pulsed with their synergy.

Suddenly, they stopped, letting their strings ring for a moment, standing still. Junichi clapped his drumsticks four times, then eased into a softer groove, lighter but still rhythmic.

Hiroki’s eyes lit up. He switched to a clean tone, playing a groovy solo reminiscent of Muse’s Uno, lightly shaking his Les Paul’s Floyd Rose for a haunting vibrato. Aoi followed, switching her bass’s fuzz for a clean, melodic line, weaving seamlessly with his lead.

They closed with a soft, bluesy fade, the room quieting. Junichi pointed his drumstick at Hiroki, grinning with ecstasy. “Dude, that was sick! We should make our song like this!”

Hiroki snapped his fingers, pointing back. “Exactly! Soft intro, hard-hitting chorus, back to soft, then full-on chaos. Thoughts?”

“I’m all in!” Junichi nodded, smirking with determination.

Ren’s text-to-speech chimed in. “That was… something else. Starting hard, then softening? Pretty genius.” She paused, then added, “Try a clean intro, like Nirvana’s Heart Shaped Box.”

Hiroki grinned. “Like this?” He played the iconic Heart-Shaped Box intro, its eerie arpeggios filling the room.

“Yes!” Ren nodded via her app.

Hiroki’s about to continue his forge, but Junichi suddenly raised his hand, halting the jam. “Hold up, bro. That jam… It felt like I was overdosing in a bathtub, lights flickering, sinking under.”

Hiroki blinked, caught off guard. “Don’t think of weird stuff, man!”

Junichi shivered, as if experiencing a trauma. “I’m not kidding! It’s just… dark. Like, that's depressing. Gives me chills.”

Aoi nodded, her eyepatch glinting. “I felt it too. Like wandering in a desolate wasteland, all despair and shadows.”

Hiroki’s mind sparked. He snapped his fingers. “Wait… anyone feel homesick lately?”

Aoi, Junichi, and even Ren raised their hands in unison, surprising him. The jam’s haunting dissonance had stirred something universal. “Holy hell,” Hiroki muttered with surprise. “Okay, that jam that we just played? Let’s build it about homesickness.”

Aoi stepped to the mic, her chuunibyou flaring. “If the Dark Lord of Tartarus decrees it, the Priestess shall light the darkness!”

With Ren’s guidance, their song was taking shape, ready to echo Kaito’s legacy and maybe even rival Gate’s mythic 2019 performance.

***

The clock ticked past Suede’s twenty-minute practice slot in Room B-12, and Hiroki Yamada was deep in his creative zone, pouring ideas into BandLab.

His black-gold Les Paul, plugged into his Zoom AMS-22 audio interface, churned out riffs as he crafted a MIDI bassline with Aoi Mizuno’s signature fuzzy tone and a drum machine mimicking Junichi Enoshima’s groovy style.

Ren-senpai leaned in, her text-to-speech app offering tips on mixing, mastering, and effects to balance the track. Though only 25% complete, the song—tentatively titled Death Homesick—was shaping into a professional-grade banger, hard-hitting yet accessible.

Hiroki called Aoi and Junichi over. “Guys, check this out!” They huddled around his phone as he hit play. A clean guitar riff, echoing Nirvana’s Heart-Shaped Box with lush spring reverb and phaser, opened the track.

Right after a gentle strum, it shifted into distorted, dissonant Em and D major chords, just like their earlier jam.

The drum machine kicked in with four hi-hat hits, then exploded into a hard-hitting groove, paired with a biting MIDI bassline that echoed Aoi’s playing—though Hiroki knew it lacked the warmth of her real Ibanez GSRM20B.

The chorus roared with bar chords, and a slower section featured a clean, Uno-esque solo with tremolo shakes, ending in a soft bluesy fade.

Junichi nodded, impressed but critical. “It’s dope, but the chorus drums are too complex to replicate live. Simplify it a bit.”

Aoi tilted her head, her eyes squinting at Hiroki’s phone. “More fuzz on the bass. It needs to growl.”

Ren’s text-to-speech chimed in. “Balance is key. Don’t oversaturate it, or else it’ll peak."

Before they could dive deeper, the door swung open. Sora, Mika, Toriteba’s five girls, and Yakomori’s four boys poured in, their chatter filling the room. Sora clapped his hands. “Suede, time’s up!”

Hiroki, Aoi, and Junichi packed their gear, joining the other first-years for the 2nd-year senpais’ surprise. Mika grabbed the mic, her enthusiasm electric. “Alright, everyone, stand up for a surprise!”

***

Minutes later, the room was set. Sora strapped on his walnut-brown Ibanez GSRM20B, his Zoom B3n’s dual outputs plugged into two small bass amps.

Ren tested the club’s Yamaha keyboard, connecting her phone to play backing tracks. Mika adjusted her Tama drum kit, smacking each part to ensure it was ready.

Junichi whispered to Hiroki, "What the hell are they doing?"

Sora grabbed the mic, startling the room. “You guys ready to rock before we call it a day?!” Toriteba’s girls and Yakomori’s boys erupted in cheers, while Suede’s trio stood, puzzled but intrigued.

Sora continued, gripping his bass pick. “We’re playing our new original song, Nothing to Waste! Let’s rock!” He nodded to Ren, and Mika clapped her drumsticks four times.

Ren hit play on her phone, unleashing an ethereal G minor synth track at 175 BPM, laced with faint glitchy Amen break samples on each part.

Her fingers danced on the keyboard, deftly layering real-time synthesizer melodies. Whilst Mika tapped the ride and crash cymbals for a light ting.

The tension of the buildup reached its peak, then erupted in a crescendo of sound. Mika’s hard-hitting groove thundered, Sora’s Royal Blood-esque bass roared, and Ren’s sci-fi synths pulsed, her head bobbing.

Sora paused his playing to sing the verse, his voice soft yet intense, the lyrics a raw reflection of not wasting passion—a nod to his loss of Kaito Yamada and the fire Hiroki reignited.

The chorus hit, Sora’s bass returning with a growl, Mika’s drums accelerating, and Ren weaving an alien-like telephone-ring synth melody over the ethereal backing track.

A faint female voice looped in the mix—“Nothing to waste! Nothing to waste! Nothing to waste; don't waste yourself!”—pumping the twelve first-years.

Toriteba’s girls waved their hands like light sticks, while Yakomori’s boys started a mini mosh pit, their energy infectious.

Hiroki’s mind raced, eyes wide open at Procorat’s theatricality. This sounds like Pendulum meets Royal Blood! The glitchy synths evoked Rob Swire’s DNB chaos, and Sora’s bass kept Procorat’s gritty core.

The song slowed, and both Sora and Mika paused their play as Ren’s alien telephone-ring synths filled the space. Sora yelled, “Everyone, make some noise!” The room erupted in cheer. Aoi leaned in, whispering, “I feel it… they’re ascending to seven heavens!”

Hiroki nodded with a chuckle, too caught up to respond, his head banging to the beat. The song built to a climax, Sora shouting, “One! Two! One, two, three, go!” amidst the thunderous drumbeats and roaring bass.

Mika’s drums exploded, Sora’s bass growled, and Ren’s synths soared. The first-years went wild, Toriteba’s girls waving, Yakomori moshing, and even Suede joining in.

"Don't you go to waste!" Sora shouted the outro.

The song ended with a bang, the room exploding in applause. Awestruck by Procorat’s theatricality.

Mika grabbed the mic. “Thanks for staying, everyone! That’s it for today. We’ll see you next Friday. DM us or check our group chat for updates. Dismissed!”

As the twelve first-years dispersed, Junichi poked Hiroki’s shoulder, still buzzing. “Dude, that was insane! Nothing to Waste felt so different from their club showcase!”

Hiroki chuckled. “Yeah, but we have to be better than them!” He slung Kaito’s Les Paul gig bag over his shoulder, his mind set on Death Homesick, determined to surpass Procorat's performance.

Procorat’s performance showed what was possible—bridging casual and hardcore fans, just like Suede aimed to do at the Sakuragawa Halloween Festival. With Kaito’s legacy and Gate’s mythic shadow guiding him, Hiroki felt ready to make their mark.