Act 2, Chapter 11.5: Stolen Axe

The 5 Notto Maigo girls spilled into the backstage corridor, breathless and laughing at each other. Their opening act still ringing in their ears like a napalm blast. The crowd’s “Encore!” chants faded behind the walls, but their adrenaline was still soaring.

"Guys, we’ve slayed it hard!" Isami pumped her fist, the other girls raising theirs in a triumphant "Banzai!"

"You better hope Fuuka-chan doesn’t get jealous of you~," the keyboardist teased, poking Aoi’s cheek.

Aoi smirked, proudly adjusting Hiroki’s black-gold Les Paul on her shoulder. But a furious voice exploded behind them.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WITH THAT CRAP?!" It was Hiroki Yamada.

He stormed in, karate-chopping Aoi’s forehead in rapid succession, his face a storm of fury and embarrassment.

"Ow! Hiroki!" Aoi yelped, rubbing her forehead with a pout. The girls froze, stunned by the sudden uproar.

Hiroki bowed hastily to the latter. "Sorry, girls—Aoi being a dumbass as always!" He grabbed Aoi’s arm, dragging her away. "We need to talk!"

***

In a secluded corner near the restrooms, shielded from the reverberating sounds of the performance hall, Hiroki unleashed his rage.

He karate-chopped Aoi’s forehead again, pointing at his Les Paul, which was slung over her shoulder. He retorted. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?!"

Aoi pouted, rubbed her forehead, and then crossed her arms. "The Priestess grants the stage unexpected revelation—"

"ENOUGH WITH YOUR CHUUNIBYOU BULLSHIT!" Hiroki barked, massaging his temples. "Just tell me why!" His glare was sharp to her.

Aoi’s gaze dropped, guilt flickering. She clutched the Les Paul’s neck. "It was… your mother."

"My mother?!" Hiroki’s eyes widened, and he furrowed one of his eyebrows. "What’s wrong with her?!" He approached his face to her.

"She suspended your guitar playing before you passed the remedial," Aoi softly responded. "I asked if I could borrow your guitar to practice. She was curious, but I said it was to improve my skills."

Hiroki froze, processing. "Yeah, but… why didn’t you tell me in the first place?!"

Aoi's fiery resolve reignites. Her gaze pierced with unwavering determination. "Because I want to surprise you! So, you’d see I have the same might as you!" She thrust the Les Paul forward. Pointed at the performance hall’s door. "And look—I moved their hearts!"

Hiroki sighed, still frustrated but softening. "But why my guitar? Why not borrow from Fuuka herself?"

Aoi’s eyes gleamed, her priestess persona flaring. "Thy distorted strings permeated such darkness that I had to enlighten! Before its blackened might shattered the sanctuary of frequency!"

"Not this shit again…" Hiroki shook his head in frustration and sharply glanced at her. "So, in other words, you want to steal my guitar?" He put his hands over the waist.

Aoi smirked slyly and tilted her head provocatively. "What if the answer was… yes?"

"No chance!" Hiroki is about to lunge for his Les Paul’s neck.

But it’s too late—Aoi spun away in a blur, her athletic speed unmatched, clutching the guitar like a stolen trophy. "Too slow!" she taunted, darting up a staircase.

"Aoi! Enough with your game!" Hiroki roared, chasing her through Shinagawa live house’s corridors.

"Catch me if you can, Dark Lord of Tartarus!" she mocked, her laughter echoing as she sprinted, his Les Paul still in hand.

Hiroki pursued, fury and embarrassment fueling his steps. Their chase weaved through backstage chaos—passing through roadies, cables, and startled staff—until a venue worker caught them, scolding them harshly for the ruckus. Though Aoi started it, Hiroki took the blame too, their antics earning a stern warning.

Heavily panting, Hiroki finally snatched his Les Paul back, glaring at Aoi. "QUIT IT, YOU DIPSHIT!"

Aoi covered one of her eyes with a mischievous chuckle. "The light of the father always prevails."

Hiroki groaned; the weight of her audacity—and his own conflicted pride—settled after he reclaimed his stolen axe.