Act 1, Chapter 17: Garter Belts

Saturday, 2:35 PM. Studio room B-6 lingers with the echoes of Yakomori’s infernal 1 Week Go to Hell and Suede’s purgatorial Death Homesick.

It was now Toriteba's turn to claim the sanctuary of frequency. Their original song was still unfinished, but the five girl had to take the stage due to the latter's pressure.

Takane plugged her Yamaha APXT2 into a neighboring amp. Mei re-tuned her left-handed purple Telecaster, dialing in a crunchy drive. Yuna's brown sunburst Ibanez GSR180 bass buzzed thickly as she retuned the strings. Hasumi delicately pressed the studio keyboard keys, cycling through patches with a nervous glance expression. And Sara tested the studio's drum kit; her sticks snapped crisply over snares and toms.

Unfortunately, Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Hasumi set their phones on the sheet stands behind them, a sign that they weren't entirely prepared, but they still had to perform.

Takane clutched her APXT2. "Sorry, we had to look at our sheets. Please bear with us." Her voice was tinged with uncertainty.

"Memorize it, dumbass!" Daichi yelled, and Yuna flipped him a frustrated middle finger with her tongue out in response, sparking laughter from Yakomori's boys.

Takane leaned into the mic again. "This is our original song, Garter Belts."

Hiroki raised an eyebrow and wondered. Weird. Kinda sensual. But let’s see what they’ve got.

The room fell silent; Toriteba’s girls exchanged hesitant glances, nodding with lingering doubt on their minds. Can we even nail it?!.

Sara clapped her drumsticks four times, and Garter Belts began with an unexpected bang.

Takane's strumming surged with enthusiasm; her APXT2 set the rhythm with eight consecutive F to C chords. Mei's left-handed Telecaster chimed in, adding harmonic chords to Takane's progression with vibrant strums. Yuna's bassline grooved over frets, stealing a slice of the limelight. Sara's drumming was persistent at the 170 BPM pace, with such precision comparable to a seasoned pro.

But Hasumi stumbled, timidly pushing piano chords and nervously darting at her phone. It seemed like stage fright overtook her, as if her first raw performance revealed her inexperience.

The song's nostalgic atmosphere pulsed like a 2000s anime opening theme, anchoring its radio-friendly bounce. "Dude, that's like massive The Pillows vibes!" Junichi whispered to Hiroki, who excitedly nodded to the beat.

Takane sang the verse, her bubbly voice never fading during her constant strumming. Mei and Yuna joined in with harmonizing vocals—Mei's gentle big-sister vibe as second vocalist and Yuna's cheeky edge as third.

The lyrics seemed to be a metaphor for Takane's loss of Kazuki Maeda in a plane crash and her defiance of her father's displeasure. It was dark yet nostalgically uplifting, which urged resilience in the time of hardship.

The chorus hit hard as Sara effortlessly smashed the ride cymbal. Takane's strumming remained steady, and her voice soared. Mei's harmonies and Yuna's bass groove kept the pace steady, their backing vocals merging seamlessly with the song's foundation despite glancing at their phones.

But Hasumi lagged, her keyboard chords permeating uncertainty as her presence faded. Hiroki sensed her struggle. Hasumi’s lost! She has to keep going, or they’re screwed!

Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Sara carried Garter Belts, though their energy masked their sloppiness. But Hasumi abruptly stopped playing. Her hands were frozen, her face darkened with negativity as if her very presence was dragging Toriteba down.

Hiroki couldn’t stand it. "Sakakibara-san! Don’t stop playing! Just go with the groove!" he shouted, startling the latter.

Mei, in mid-harmony, snapped into the mic, "Excuse me?!"

Hiroki raced to the stage, bowing to avoid disrupting their flow. "Sorry for interrupting! You girls keep playing!" he yelled to Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Sara, who continued their rhythm, slightly surprised.

Hiroki reached Hasumi, who glanced at the keyboard with a blackened gaze of despair. He approached her, concerned. "Sakakibara-san, don’t stop! You can play, right?"

"B-but..." Hasumi stammered, her voice trembling.

Hiroki firmly patted her shoulder and whispered, "It's fine! Just play what you feel. You rocked our hearts to the core last Tuesday, right? Then do it again!"

The second chorus neared its solo section.

Time is running out.

But miracle never left them behind.

Hasumi's eyes lighted up, and her hands hovered over the keys as Sara's fill-in thundered. The solo had arrived; Mei unleashed a groovy yet aggressive guitar solo on her left-handed purple Telecaster.

But there was a revelation: Hasumi sprang into life, her fingers dancing into a Mozart-like arpeggiated piano piece that wove elegantly with Mei's solo. The four Toriteba girls glanced at her with a stunned look.

But that urged Mei to lock her eyes with Hasumi. Her guitar solo clashed with Hasumi's piano piece, trading licks in an impromptu duel. Hasumi had awakened, her spark ignited.

Hiroki fist-bumped her with a beaming nod. "Let's go!" He darted back to Suede, the room buzzing with shock at his audacity.

The last verse soared. Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Sara's rhythms surged through their instruments. But Hasumi's piano added a nostalgic brilliance to the song, and her confidence carried its backbone.

Finally, Garter Belts concluded with a melancholic but hopeful ending, the room erupting in cheers from the audiences.

Hiroki exhaled with relief after witnessing Hasumi's growth over her anxiety. However, "Your audacity saved them." Aoi's whisper startled Hiroki. "It was for their own good, y'know." He replied gently, still looking at Hasumi with concern.

The room was still booming with applause. Even Hiroki earned cheers for his intervention, like a stage crew fixing a performer's rigs mid-show. But deep down, he wasn't meant to steal the show—he just couldn't let a band falter because one member was struggling.

***

Studio room B-6 was still alive with the faint echoes of Toriteba's Garter Belts. Despite its sloppiness, their nostalgic pop-rock anthem had charmed the latter first-years. And Hasumi's unexpected piano revelation had carved out a paradise of frequency.

Takane, still clenching her APXT2 close, leaned into the mic. "H-how was it, guys?" Her voice was uncertain.

The room erupted in cheers that caught Toriteba's girls off guard. Yakomori’s four boys roared approval for the pop-rock sound, a rare nod from their metalhead hearts.

Daichi grinned as he playfully poked Hiroki. "Hiroki, dude! You should be Toriteba’s stage crew!" And Hiroki could only respond with laughter.

Yuna, still gripping her Ibanez bass, pointed her pick at Hiroki with frustration. "Hiroki, you got in our way!"

"Got in your way?!" Hiroki shot back, pointing at Hasumi, her gaze darkened by the keyboard. "Hasumi was lost! And I had to step in!"

Sara rose from the studio's drum set, her gyaru flair softening. "Oh, c’mon, it’s our first time playing our original song. It’s normal if—"

"Preposterous..." Hasumi interrupted, her voice a dark stutter, her modesty crumbling into pieces.

The room froze with suspense. Mei raised an eyebrow, confused. "Wait, what's wrong?!"

"Preposterous…" Hasumi repeated, her chest shaking, eyes glistening. "How... can I... indulge in such... low-life playing?!"

She sank to her knees in a heartbeat, tears streaming down as she covered her face, overwhelmed with guilt. The room's energy shifted; everyone set aside their instruments as they rushed to her.

The remaining Toriteba girls knelt beside her and wrapped her in a group embrace. Even Yakomori's boys approached with concern, despite their usual bravado. The latter hearts were heavy with surprise at Hasumi's sudden emotional outburst.

Takane stroked Hasumi’s back, her voice gentle. "Hasumi, it’s okay. You did fine. What’s really going on? Tell us."

Hasumi’s sobs intensified. "N-no... this one’s... different..." Her trembling words were barely audible through her tears.

"I... used to attend an elite all-girls school. Chasing perfection after perfection. One mistake could mean hellish punishment." She gasped, fighting tears. It's almost like her past trauma was ravaging her sanity.

"I played piano to prove my worth as a 'modest lady' Countless sacrifices... just to please my family. I grew to loathe it, thinking it was only for my family's mere entertainment."

The room listened to Hasumi's confession, nodding solemnly. Hasumi continued, her voice nearly cracking from tears. "I joined the Light Music Club at this 'low-life' Sakuragawa school to feel a sliver of liberation. My parents tried to stop me, saying it was full of promiscuous degenerates. When my father found out, he punished me, called me a 'low-life whore,' and threatened to strip away my dreams and my passion."

The epithet "low-life" stung like a murder hornet as Hasumi's elite family considered Sakuragawa beneath. But the group patiently held back their questions, letting Hasumi continue her story.

"I kept wondering, how can I enjoy this kind of music? I was raised for classical perfection, not… this. But you all... you’re like... my saviors."

Her tears were streaming like a waterfall on the studio's hardwood floor. "You guys... showed me music isn’t just notes—it’s self-expression. As cliche as it sounds... I bet... Mozart, Chopin... they’d say the same."

Hiroki nodded, his heart aching. Even Kaito's remarks before his death flashed across his thoughts, echoing Hasumi's confession. "You saw Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Sara enjoying themselves, even with mistakes, right?" Hiroki's gaze softened at Hasumi.

"Exactly..." Hasumi sobbed, her chest heaving. "I... hate that you all have a sliver of liberation I can’t feel..."

Sara's gyaru edge softened, and she hugged Hasumi tighter as she consoled her. "Oh, don’t say that! We’ve faced worse too! But at least we keep fighting for it! Okay?"

Hasumi nodded, but her tears were unstoppable. "You all... have the bravery to be what you wanted to be. But... I was raised to be a submissive tool, always told to 'be a good obedient girl' or be disgraced for eternity."

Her sobs got louder, and the room froze with sympathy and shared guilt. Aoi knelt alongside Hasumi and patted her shoulder. "Hasumi Sakakibara-san, you are today confronted with a harsh, cold truth: rank and honor no longer matter in real-life situations." Her voice was a mix of conviction and empathy.

Hasumi nodded, tears slowing. "Exactly... I want to be strong and independent, to be what I want..."

"But they restrain me," she whispered, covering her face in shame. "I feel like... a burden... to you all."

Sara shook her head. "Oh, stop it! Sure, you’re used to performing in front of the elite audiences where mistakes meant punishment. Whereas playing with us was like a new territory for you." Her tone was coach-like but gentle.

The room exchanged glances and nodded with warm smiles, a sign they cared for Hasumi.

Aoi rose and offered her hand, her chuunibyou tone firm. "Sakakibara-san, I have no issue with mistakes, but I despise quitters. They are traitors to their own fire. Keep fighting for your rights, or quit to face the consequences."

Hasumi’s eyes widened, her tears easing. "Mizuno-san…"

Daichi crouched, his metalhead edge softened with a smile. "It's cool. We're not making fun of you. Hiroki saved you, and you rocked that solo! It's all about fun, ain't that right?" The latter nodded in unison with smiles.

"Don't give a shit about them! Enjoy your youth while it lasts," Kenta added, his tone gentle.

"Keep forging your skill and you'll find your own path!" Gojou chimed in with an encouraging tone.

Hasumi looked around; the warmth of the twelve LMC members was a stark contrast to her family’s strictness. "Thank you... thank you... all of you!" She cried, hugging Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Sara tightly, her tears now a release of relief and gratitude.

Hasumi felt such warmth from the twelve LMC members that contrasted sharply with her family's strictness. "Thank you... thank you... all of you!" She sobbed, fiercely hugging Takane, Mei, Yuna, and Sara, her tears now a release of comfort and gratitude.

Mei caressed her cheek, her big-sister tone soothing. "If something’s bugging you, just share it with us. We can find the solution together, okay?"

Hasumi, still teary, spoke dramatically, "If I become what I swore to destroy... just... break me to life..."

The room chuckled sympathetically at her sudden emo flair. Yuna patted her back, her laughter breaking the tension. "That's enough! You’re fine!"

Hiroki’s loss of Kaito, Takane’s loss of Kazuki, Riku’s loss of his uncle, and now Hasumi’s loss of her will to live due to her family’s pressure pushing her toward despair. But strangely, everything felt connected to each other.

Their songs were powerful war cries that motivated them to conquer their fears, grief, and anxiety. This studio was not a battleground but a reflection against their inner demons.