Act 2, Chapter 5: Room Of Mirrors

Takane Yuzuriha strode through the humid Osaka evening, her school bag swinging at her side, a triumphant grin splitting her face. Her midterm scores—math 82, physics 70, chemistry 68, biology 75—were a hard-earned victory, a defiant middle finger to her parents’ disdain and her past struggles.

The scorching summer heat clung to her skin, but the thrill of Summer Sonic Osaka Fest tomorrow, August 17th, propelled her forward. Harmoniac and Liliane awaited a day of raw music to drown out the noise of her fractured family.

Uncle Daiki’s modest apartment had been her sanctuary since she ran away, a quiet haven where she could breathe without judgment. He and her aunt were out of town for work, leaving the place blissfully empty. Takane kicked off her shoes, about to strum her beloved APXT2 to scream her rebellion.

But as she stepped into the living room, a figure in the kitchen froze her in place. Kagari Yuzuriha, her second-oldest sister, stood over a steaming pot, her sharp eyes flicking up from the stove. The air soured instantly, and Takane’s grin was snuffed out like a candle in a storm.

"W-What are you doing here, Kagari-nee?" Takane’s voice tightened, her schoolbag thudding to the floor.

Kagari stirred the pot with deliberate calm, her tone slicing through the tension. "Why’d you run away from home, Takane-chan? Hmm?"

Takane’s jaw clenched, her fists balling at her sides. "Because Mama and Papa turned on me. Called me a whore for being myself, for loving Kazuki. They didn’t even try to understand."

Her words dripped venom, memories of her parents’ scorn flooding back—her "landmine girl" fashion, bright colors mixed with punk defiance, her anarchic middle school gigs, and her relationship with Kazuki Maeda, twisted into something dirty in their eyes.

Kagari set the spoon down, her gaze steady, unyielding. "And you thought running was the answer? Throwing away the family’s responsibility for some rebellious stunt?"

"It wasn’t a stunt!" Takane snapped, stepping forward, her voice rising. "Kazuki and I trusted each other—loved each other. It wasn’t just sex; it was real! You wouldn’t get it, sitting in their shadow, playing the perfect daughter."

Kagari’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of hurt beneath her composure. "You think I don’t get it? I gave you my old stuff—those frilly skirts, those chokers—to see what you’d do with them. To test if you’d carve your own path or fall into their stereotypes. And look at you, Takane. You chose to run and fell right into their narrative."

"Stereotypes?!" Takane’s voice cracked, her fists trembling. "You call my style, my passion, prostitution? I’m not some cliché! I study hard, ace my tests, and build something real with my friends—more than Mama and Papa ever gave me!"

Kagari leaned against the counter, arms crossed, her voice low but piercing. "Building something? Or hiding? You think ditching home erases their judgment? You’re still running from the mess you made, Takane. Kazuki’s gone from that plane crash. Not your fault, of course—but you’re letting that grief define you."

The mention of Kazuki hit like a blade, Takane’s breath hitching, tears pricking her eyes. "Then what do you want me to do with that, huh?!" she hissed, wiping her eyes furiously. "This is where I’m free from their disappointment. You think I should crawl back to face their so-called ‘justice’? For what? To be shamed again?"

Kagari’s expression softened, but her words held firm. "Justice isn’t shame, my beloved Takane-chan. It’s accountability. You can’t keep dodging Mama and Papa’s expectations—or their mistakes—by pretending Uncle Daiki’s apartment fixes everything. I want to root for you, but part of me still believes in family, flaws and all."

Takane laughed bitterly, her voice breaking. "Family? They said my love for Kazuki was promiscuous! You call that family? My friends in the LMC are more like family now. They don’t judge me for who I am—they share it with me!"

Kagari sighed, stepping toward the door, her hand on the knob. "I heard from Uncle Daiki you’re in a school band. Making music. Is that right?"

Takane’s throat tightened, her retort faltering. "You got a problem with that?" she managed, her voice trembling with defiance.

Kagari chuckled softly, almost wistfully. "No. It’s the one thing you’re doing right." She opened the door, glancing back. "But choose, Takane. Face your past, or let it haunt you forever."

The door clicked shut, leaving Takane alone with the cooling pot of Kagari’s untouched dinner. Her midterm triumph, her eagerly anticipated Summer Sonic plans, and her cherished Light Music Club dreams felt hollow against the weight of her sister’s words.

The LMC was her refuge, like a second family, but was it enough to heal the wounds of Kazuki’s loss and her family’s betrayal?

Takane hissed in quiet fury, "I know it'll be another useless preaching from that old fart!" She stormed to the bathroom, shedding her crumpled uniform and stepping into the shower, the warm water cascading over her like a cleansing ritual.

But Kagari’s challenge lingered—a call to confront her past or risk losing herself in the music forever.

***

Takane Yuzuriha emerged from the shower, steam curling around her like a veil as she wrapped a towel tight. The lingering scent of Kagari’s dinner was a mocking reminder of her sister’s intrusion. The meal sat heavy in her stomach, overshadowed by their bitter debate.

Kagari’s words echoed: "I want to root for you, but part of me still believes in family, flaws and all." They cut deeper than Takane wanted to admit, a blade twisting in old wounds.

Returning to her parents’ home would mean a Nuremberg trial of judgment—accusations of failure, of being a whore for loving Kazuki Maeda, and for chasing her music with reckless abandon. No, she wouldn’t crawl back.

She locked her bedroom door, descending into her chamber of reflection—a sacred space where she could unleash suppressed fury, sadness, and defiance without restraint. A groan escaped her lips as she slumped at her desk, the echo of Kagari’s preaching ringing in her ears.

Her eyes fell on a stack of cherished music CDs, relics that had shaped her soul and Toriteba’s pop-punk fire:

The Pillows – Happy Bivouac, a gift from her first sister, its bouncy alt-rock igniting her love for music and inspiring Toriteba’s Garter Belts with nostalgic, raw energy.

Ging Nang Boyz – …Young Alive in Love, Kagari’s old favorite from her hardcore landmine phase, passed down like a rebellious torch, is the chaotic punk blueprint for Takane’s defiance.

Togenashi Togeari – Togeari, tied to her obsession with Girls’ Band Cry, where the MC’s rebellion against a suffocating family mirrored her own escape, fueling Toriteba’s fierce spirit.

Anna Tsuchiya – strip me?, a secret nod to her love for Nana, sparked by her first sister’s manga collection, igniting her 2000s gothic landmine punk style.

Her gaze shifted to a worn gothic-esque memo book, pages crammed with doodles and photos from middle school: her, Mei, Yuna, and Sara in full landmine glory—ripped fishnets, chokers, smudged eyeliner, and defiant grins. Bittersweet memories, cringe-inducing yet cherished, from before Kazuki’s plane crash in Taipei shattered everything.

Takane clutched the book, tears welling, and hugged her CDs like lifelines. Her Yamaha APXT2 guitar, a birthday gift from her first sister for winning a regional middle school singing competition, leaned against the desk. She traced its curves, remembering Kazuki’s patient smile as he taught her chords. "You’ve got fire, Takane-chan. Keep it up!"

That fire now blazed in Toriteba. But her parents’ hostility—branding her intimacy with Kazuki "dirty"—tainted her pride.

Trophies gleamed on her desk: academic awards, singing medals, and an LMC showcase ribbon. She once made them proud, but their betrayal after Kazuki’s death turned victories hollow.

Thoughts ravaged her, a void of fury and despair threatening to swallow her whole. She wanted to scream, to let pain pour into chords and chaos, drowning the sanctuary of frequency itself.

Before the spiral consumed her, her phone pinged. A notification from Mei lit the screen, pulling her back from the edge. She opened it, curiosity overriding despair.

A photo loaded: Hiroki Yamada, still trapped in his pink magical girl cosplay, striking a cheesy peace pose with Mei, Yuna, Sara, and Hasumi—all grinning wickedly, mischief in their eyes.

mioakiyamachan (Mei): Hey, did you know? Hiroki-kun accidentally jizzed himself after that~~~. What a naughty boy~~~.

Takane erupted into laughter, the absurdity shattering her gloom like glass. "Holy crap!" she typed back.

toritaan5829 (Takane): You girls need to stop!

Her giggles echoed in the quiet room, but guilt crept in.

Forcing Hiroki into that frilly dress and twintail wig as "punishment" for his midterm flops had been her and Aoi’s idea. "Crap… I didn’t realize it’d go that far," she muttered, dread mixing with amusement.

What if Hiroki’s embarrassment turned to fury? She pictured his flushed face, his "Dark Lord of Tartarus" persona scorching the pink sequins.

Yet, the photo warmed her. Mei’s teasing, Yuna’s cheekiness, Sara’s laid-back gyaru vibe, Hasumi’s shy modesty—they were her second family, the LMC’s chaotic heart.

The LMC wasn’t just a club—it was these moments, raw and ridiculous, binding their scars. It gave her reason to keep playing, to chase Summer Sonic tomorrow and scream with Harmoniac and Liliane.

For now, she’d cherish this laughter, this fleeting escape, before the judgment of the past came knocking again.