Act 2, Chapter 12: Switchback

The dressing room AC blasted cold relief, but Hiroki’s temper still boiled. He zipped his reclaimed black-gold Les Paul guitar into its gig bag, glaring daggers at Aoi. "Don’t even think about stealing my guitar again! Or Kaito’s ghost will haunt your sleep!"

Aoi struck a dramatic pose, her sinister laugh echoing in the room. "Haunt me? He wouldn’t dare to face the might of—"

The door burst open, and four of Notto Maigo’s girls jogged in. "Mizuno-san! You forgot your paycheck!" The bassist waving an envelope.

Isami Yamamoto stormed in, her eyes locking onto Hiroki with intensity. "Wait… are you Kaito Yamada’s younger brother?"

The name hit like a muted power chord. Hiroki’s blood turned to ice. "H-how did you know my brother’s name…?"

Isami smiled softly. "Well… I dated him back in high school." She whispered.

Hiroki was breathless in surprise, completely speechless.

***

In the cafeteria’s live house, muffled cheers and overdriven guitars leaked through the walls. Hiroki and Isami sat across from each other, their iced teas sweating on the table.

Isami drained her cup, grinning. "It’s been years, Hiroki-kun. How’s your high school life going on?"

"Well… I just survived midterm remedial hell today," he laughed. "Now, I can freely shred all I want."

"That’s awesome!" She leaned in. "Y’know, when I spotted you in the crowd, I was like, 'Wait, that’s Kaito’s little brother!' And I was right!"

Hiroki laughed once and scratched his cheek. "So… how did dating my brother go?"

Isami sighed theatrically. "We broke up. Kaito’s such a playboy, y’know." She propped her chin on her hand, pouting.

Hiroki chuckled, "Typical Kaito." But his smile faded into a somber one. "But… I still can’t move on from that…" Outside the window, the exact stretch of road where the motorcycle had burned flickered in his peripheral vision.

Isami’s gaze followed his. Her mood darkened, as did his. "Y-Yeah…" she whispered. "My condolences, Hiroki-kun…" Their silence stretched, thick with ghosts of the past haunting their every word.

Isami spoke again, her voice low. "There was something I wanted to tell him after that last Shinagawa gig. But it’s too late…"

Hiroki leaned forward. "It’s alright; tell it to me instead."

Her cheeks flushed crimson. She scratched the back of her head. “Listen… it’s not a love confession or anything, okay?”

Hiroki leaned forward with curiosity. "It’s just… thank you." Isami continued. "You gave me a reason to live. If you hadn’t pulled me out of the dark, I could have died as a nobody."

Hiroki caught his breath, witnessing Isami’s shaky pupil. "Please, not another suicide note…"

She laughed, eyes shining but warm. "But seriously, he’s the reason I picked up the mic, to vent my inner frustration." She continued. "Pain birthed creativity. The deeper our scars, the brighter we shine. Turning our pain into an emotional catharsis."

Hiroki nodded slowly, understanding the language of pain and healing. Much like how he expressed his pain through his original song.

Isami slid the chair beside him. "By the way, Aoi-chan showed me a video of you singing and shredding in a band with her."

"What’s wrong with that?" Hiroki tilted his head, intrigued.

"Seems like Kaito’s teaching you well," Isami smiled with a warm chuckle.

Hiroki glanced over at Aoi, now surrounded by Notto Maigo girls. Laughing freely as she did her usual dramatic act to them, and they were playing around like it was nothing.

"Y’know, Aoi used to be hostile as hell around other girls," he muttered, his tone low. "At the first LMC meeting months ago, she even threatened other girls with a pencil—called them 'Lilith’s disciples,' although they meant it as a friendly joke."

Isami burst out laughing. "It’s alright, we’re all cool. She’s teaching us cool tricks we didn’t even know existed." She smiled widely. "And look at us; we shocked the crowd tonight."

Hiroki smiled despite his cloudy thoughts. Isami bumped his shoulder. "Next band’s up. Wanna see what they've got till the end?"

"Let’s go!" Hiroki nodded enthusiastically.

They bolted for the hall, the ghosts of the past trailing behind—but for the first time in years, they didn’t feel quite so heavy.

***

Guitar riffs and drum fills leaked through the walls like smoke under a door. Takane Yuzuriha wiped the last counter spot until it gleamed, stacking cups with mechanical precision.

The TV overhead displayed the stage. Sparklin'Star; a five-member high school pop-rock band in frilly skirts, with glittering smiles, flashing peace signs, and playful winks. They were halfway through their set. The crowd enthusiastically nodded along with their sea of light sticks.

Sara waved a bundle of sealed straws playfully, mimicking the light sticks with a grin. "They’re so kawaii-desu~!"

Takane didn’t answer. Her smile had vanished instantly, replaced by a frown, the moment Koizumi Yamano's face appeared on screen.

"Koizumi Yamano…" The name slipped out low and sour, tasting like rust.

Sara lowered the straws. She furrowed one of her eyebrows. "Huh? What’s wrong with her?"

"N-nothing." Takane turned away and shrugged.

"Ehhh? That’s the fakest 'nothing' I’ve ever heard." Sara playfully poked Takane, her gyaru mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Spill it, gurl. We've been buddies for so long!"

Takane crossed her arms tightly, cheeks puffed in frustration. "If you laugh, I disband Toriteba right now."

Sara instantly bear-hugged her from behind, chin on Takane’s shoulder. "No chances~. Talk to me, will you?"

Takane’s gaze drifted back to the TV—Koizumi mid-chorus, all sunshine and perfection—and the memory clawed its way up like feedback from hell.

***

Two years ago, after the classes in Hagami Middle School, Takane opened the shoe lockers before calling it a day.

Instead of her loafers, the shoe lockers revealed a disturbing array of items: razor blades arranged in a sinister smile, wrapped condoms, push pins glinting like tiny knives, and plastered notes.

Die you whore!
Kazuki-senpai deserved better.
Fucking kill yourself!

Same as yesterday, same as the day before. Filled with rage, Takane's eyes scorched as she felt compelled to hunt down the culprit.

A voice behind her—sweet, yet poisonous like a serpent's whisper. "Didn’t I tell you this would happen?"

Takane’s spine locked. It was Koizumi Yamano, the golden child of Hagami. Plus, the student council vice-president. The girl who flashed peace signs in every morning assembly like she was saving the world from mundanity.

However, only Takane ever witnessed the rot underneath of her peace signs.

Takane shut the locker gently; her knuckles’ veins popped. "You did this, didn’t you?!"

Koizumi sighed theatrically. "Projection much? Why would I bother?" She stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper that cut deeper than screaming. "You’re the one that couldn’t keep your legs closed."

Heat flooded Takane’s face. The rumor of months ago, twisted beyond recognition, and it still festered like an open wound.

"So, I’m a whore now?" Takane’s voice shook, but she didn’t back down.

Koizumi’s smile never reached her eyes. "Adultery at our age is no different than a crime, Takane-chan. This school will not tolerate scandal."

Takane's fists clenched so tightly that her nails left crescent-shaped marks on her palms.

"Scandal?!" She scoffed, sharp but broken. "There are girls selling nudes in the bathroom for dirty money! But sure, my private matter with Kazuki-senpai makes me the devil."

Koizumi’s mask slipped with a low retort. "Think about it as opening fire on the neighborhood to keep your rent low," she hissed. "But the drawback? Every psycho thinks this is the place to play."

She leaned in until Takane could smell her strawberry perfume. "Think about it, Takane-chan. Kazuki Maeda is gone. No one’s coming to save you from the girls who hate you now. You did this to yourself."

The name struck Takane like a lightning bolt to the core. Takane saw the red, her thoughts screaming. Don't ever mention that name again!

BOK.

She shoved Koizumi against the lockers, clenched her throat with a gorilla grip, almost choking her.

"Is this how you ‘protected’ me?" Takane’s voice cracked like a breaking string. "Secretly letting them treat me like a piece of shit?!"

Koizumi didn’t flinch. Her eyes were cold, her voice rasping past Takane’s grip. "I warned you. Politely. You didn’t listen."

The hallway fell into a sudden silence as students stood motionless, their phones hesitantly lifted. Takane’s grip loosened; she felt worthless to defend herself. Koizumi slipped free, tidying her blazer like nothing happened.

"I will never sugarcoat it; it’s too late for you to switch back now," she said, almost kindly.

She strolled away with light footsteps, already crafting a pretentious peace sign for the next soul she would feign to rescue.

Takane stood there until the hallway emptied, the sinister smiles of the razor blades inside the locker haunting her thoughts.