Act 1, Chapter 19: Ride The White Pony

The sun was roused from its slumber at dawn. Hiroki felt drained after chaotic last Saturday's studio battle at Hasegawa Family Studio, his soul yearning for respite after yesterday's emotional whirlwind. The soft hum of the air conditioner lulled him into a deep slumber, like a Dark Lord seeking solace in the depths of oblivion.

But in the haze of dreams, a voice reverberated gently, like a tape delay in a darkened hall. "Miss Priestess... you will be... my beautiful... white pony..."

Hiroki's vision clouded; he found himself bare-bodied, lying over Aoi Mizuno, who was equally naked. A silky, furry blanket gently brushed their skin, tickling as it draped. Gentle moans and chuckles filled the air as their bodies pressed close in a forbidden dance.

His thought accelerated. "Wait... how did I... get here? I had... sex... with Aoi-chan?!" But the indulgence was unstoppable, an overpowering wave of pleasure with no point of return.

Aoi's arms wrapped around his back, her voice shrill yet tender in a whisper. "Dark Lord... you shall be... my gallant... black stallion... nothing else..." Her small hands caressed his back, shivering his spine. "Please... feel the warmth... within me..."

She kissed his neck, a soft moan escaping her lips as their bodies gently moved in unison. "I will... I will..." Hiroki muttered, his lips close to hers.

"Do not... betray me..." Aoi whispered, her fingers tickling his back.

Their lips came together, a delicate smooch drowning out the world amid resonating moans; the Dark Lord of Tartarus and the Priestess were lost in a clash of realms with a forbidden ecstasy.

***

Sunday morning pierced like alcohol on a wound. Hiroki gently opened his eyes; the dawn light pierced his bedroom curtains. However, he felt a strange sensation in his crotch—something wet and sticky.

He threw off the blanket and witnessed the horror beyond comprehension. "Oh, dammit! I wet... myself..."

His wet dream left a humiliating mark on his shorts. He buried his face as shame washed over him. "No, no, no! I'm... such a pervert!" His self-loathing sank deep.

"Dark Lord—" Aoi's enthusiastic voice startled him. She stood beside his bed, clutching her toy pistol as her chuunibyou flair remained intact.

Hiroki karate-chopped her head in frustration. "Quit it!" Desperate to clean up the mess, he bolted to the bathroom, his face still burning with shame.

As he sat on the toilet, he pondered the dream with increasing anxiety. It virtually echoed Takane's confession of her intimate moment with Kazuki Maeda, a recording she'd shared in a moment of vulnerability.

Was this have to do with Takane?! But the more he thought about it, the more he sank into the dream's implication. Or perhaps that mere dream will come true.

"No, no, no! Sex with Aoi-chan?! Like, get the fuck outta here!" He shrugged off his thought furiously yet anxiously.

Hiroki scrubbed clean his crotch, the cold water against his skin contrasting with the turmoil in his mind, which continued to churn.

Aoi's presence in his dream wasn't coincidental; it might have reflected their shared passion, connection through music, and anguish. Yesterday's secret band battle had sparked something deep in him, resurrecting his buried passions following Kaito's death.

***

Sunday morning, 7:00 a.m. Hiroki had rinsed away the sting of his wet dream and wiped clean the sticky shame in the bathroom.

After freshly changed, he was tidying his room when Aoi barged in, her chuunibyou persona in full swing as she wielded her plastic spear in a dramatic action stance. Her turquoise eye glinted with malice, and her eyepatch was back in place after being forcefully removed the day before.

"What do you want?" Hiroki shot her a frustrated glance as he smoothed his bedsheets.

Aoi approached him, her enthusiasm unwavering. "Since the departure of my sister, it's time for us to settle our unfinished problem!"

Hiroki raised an eyebrow, tossing a pillow onto a bed. "What are you talking about? Our Death Homesick is done. Just needs a little polish—"

But Aoi cut him off, leaning into his face. "No! I mean, a battle to our last drop of blood!" Her voice brimming with a chuunibyou persona.

Hiroki snorted, folding a blanket. "What? Like our middle school ruler-versus-pencil fights? Get outta here!"

Aoi’s gaze darted to his black-gold Les Paul gig bag in the corner. She pointed dramatically. "No! I play bass, and you play guitar. We fight to our very last breath!"

Hiroki halted his cleaning, letting out a light chuckle as he softly glanced at the guitar bag. Memories of playful guitar battles with Kaito came flooding back, with his brother's deft fingers shredding and laughter filling their lost time memories.

A wave of sorrow washed over him; memories of the fiery motorcycle accident that devoured Kaito pulled at his chest. "Instrument battle, huh? Interesting, but I’d lose anyway."

Aoi's eyes narrowed. "Nonsense! The divine eyes of mine witnessed such a hellish inferno within your blackened soul! I doubt it will remain sealed for eternity!" Her glare was fierce, drawing him out of his sorrow, a spark of her priestess character reigniting his fire.

Before he could respond, his mother’s voice rang from the kitchen. "Hiroki! Aoi! Breakfast!"

Hiroki stood and gave Aoi a half-smile. "Y'know, let's do it after breakfast." The fragrance of food wafted through the air as they approached the dining table.

***

Hiroki's mother, Hanabi Yamada, bustled about Aoi's elder sister, Akame Mizuno. She and Hanabi frequently shared each other's meals; their bond is a quiet anchor for both families. The table was set with steaming bowls of rice, fluffy tamagoyaki, tangy pickled radish, and more. A feast that enveloped them in the comforting scents of home.

As they sat, Hanabi smiled warmly at Aoi. "By the way, Mizuno-san called last night. She's overwhelmed with her new side job, but she sent some of her homemade onigiri for you two. They're in the fridge."

Aoi nodded, her chuunibyou lowered in Hanabi's presence. "Thank you, Yamada-san. My sister will never cease seeking infinite knowledge across the horizon of eternity."

Hiroki sipped his miso, glancing at Aoi. "Your sister's cool with you crashing here?"

"She trusts Yamada-san," Aoi responded, picking at her tamagoyaki. "Besides, she knows I am on a quest to hone my light and my divine eyes." Her eyes shone, but her tone was quiet.

Hanabi giggled gently and placed her chopsticks on the empty bowl. "You two and your music. It reminds me of Kaito, always playing with that stuff." Her voice softened; a flicker of grief passed. "And Aoi-chan, it seems like you're close to my son."

Hiroki’s throat tightened as Kaito’s memory stirred from both the dream and his mother’s words.

Leaning in eagerly, Aoi's tone carried a sense of earnest determination. "Yamada-san, Hiroki’s going to face me in an instrument battle today. His distorted axe against my growling abyss. We shall shake the very realms!"

Hanabi laughed, shaking her head. "Just don’t break anything, ok? Because lately, we’ve received noise complaints from our neighborhood."

"We won’t," Hiroki responded. "Try to keep it low, okay?" He glanced at Aoi.

Aoi nodded. "The priestess makes no compromises."

They cleaned the table after breakfast. But his mind drifted to Takane's confession about her intimacy with Kazuki and how it echoed the unspoken desire in his wet dream. Aoi's presence in that dream wasn't just a mere fantasy; it might have been their unspoken bond as their shared passion for music.

The incoming instrument battle felt like a way to channel that energy, to fight their demons through strings and frets, just as they had in the studio yesterday.