Heavier Things

The Sunburst Records studio lights dimmed low, casting shadows across soundproofed walls plastered with posters of Harmoniac's debut album, Mythical Maze.

Hinata Murasaki, now twenty-four years old, strummed over her gold Schecter PT Fastback; her fingers moved across the strings with raw aggression. The guitar's polished gold body gleamed under the desk lamp, a gift from her grandmother before her passing. Although she tried not to overthink about that, she can't shake it off.

She had her guitar running into her laptop's DAW via the audio interface. With an IEM directly in her skull, she ripped into Spiked Lance, Harmoniac's hard-hitting debut single since 2022.

A symphonic metal banger blending chunky distorted riffs, Yurine's ghostly lead guitar with divebomb wails, Benio's grungy distorted basslines, Marina's melancholic piano swells with orchestral synth, and Inaba's thumping drums with double kick.

And then Hinata's own voice came—deep, rich, and controlled in the verses, and then not controlled at all in the outro.

Her IEMs pulsed with intensity, the world fading into synesthesia of frequencies. The melodic sections moved spiraled like the maze imagery on the album cover that had been trying to replicate.

Back then, they were Starlight Harmony: peace signs, frilly skirts, synchronized choreography, and bubbly pop-rock that got the crowd clapping along.

That was their first intention.

Since that fateful Hoshikawa High School summer festival seven years ago, she had never expected a three-piece band to entirely change her worldview 180 degrees. Liliane, with their bombastic cover of Secret G.

Something had shifted in Hinata's mind. There are differences between what you want at seventeen and what you need at eighteen.

She had pushed the band toward heavier sounds slowly, then all at once. Various artists she listened to. Band-Maid's hard rock with its impeccable playing, besides the aesthetic misdirection. Spiritbox's melancholic fury felt like an anger against injustice. And Evanescence's gothic essence with the haunting melodies and dark lyrical themes.

All of it screamed what she needed to scream.

The theatrical stage came from her and Marina's unhealthy obsession with Tim Burton movies since they were twelve. The specific aesthetic of something beautiful but slightly wrong, dark fairy tale logic applied to visual and narrative choices.

If they want to do symphonic metal with theatrical staging, there has to be some weight to it. She wanted the mask and the dramatic monologue to mean something rather than just being for spectacle.

That's when she changed the name from Starlight Harmony to Harmoniac.

The name was a combination of "harmony" and "maniac." A harmony pushed past its sustainable point into something that had consumed the person pursuing it. Someone for whom the music had crossed from passion into an unhealthy obsession.

She thought this was accurate. This was happening to her in real-time.

But it was far from easy.

"Are you out of your damn mind?! There's no way any label would sign with us with these!" Benio's scolding was still lingering in her mind. "And the dramatic acts before the songs?! It doesn't do anything before you play a single note!"

But Hinata stood firm. "I want to give the audiences something to be inside, not just watching our performance! I want them to feel involved in the stage!"

She had been holding her ground against Benio's analytical precision for long enough. Although Benio had looked at her the other way, Hinata had proved it three years ago.

Their debut album had charted at number three. A symphonic metal album that felt experimental, orchestral, and rather industrial. It has stolen the heart of metalheads that grew up in the underground circles while remaining enjoyable for casuals who want to get into metal music and have never heard of distorted bass in their lives.

In fact, the Shakespearean theatrical staging went viral before the music did, which they hadn't predicted yet.

Flipping off the norm while navigating through the system was easier to say than it was done. She was still figuring out how to do it without losing either thing. The revenue, chart position, merch sales, and more she had to consider.

Now, planning their second album, she wants to take a bigger risk, something that would challenge the record label itself.

Two weeks ago, she had recently bought a 7-string guitar—freshly out of the box.

Schecter PT-7 SLS Elite S in gloss black.

The guitar sat comfortably in the guitar rack besides Benio's brand new Stiletto-5 Stealth Pro in satin black.

"Why would Hina-chan have bought a 7-string guitar?"

That's the question Yurine, Benio, Marina, and Inaba couldn't stop asking in her face.

Djent.

Realistically, there's no way the Sunburst CEO would approve this hard-hitting metal subgenre with guttural screaming and downtuned, distorted riffs because it would tarnish their reputation as a safe and marketable record company.

But she believes in the loyalty and open-mindedness of the fanbase Harmoniac has cultivated, trusting that they will embrace the band's journey into more challenging and unconventional musical realms.

This was the argument she hadn't resolved for three weeks with Benio and the CEO himself. This was why she was in the studio at midnight playing Spiked Lance with her IEMs and letting the riff calm her nerve.

But it hadn't calmed yet.

And it never will.

After high school graduation, the label scooped them up with live gigs to gain their popularity. Hinata had skipped university to chase her dream, a decision that'd triggered one argument with her family and then nothing further, but results tend to close those conversations. Yurine and Benio had the juggle of degrees alongside touring with Hinata. And lastly, Marina tutored classical piano part-time at Melodia Music Center.

The same spot where Aria Amatsuka taught pop piano lessons.

Coincidence?

Hinata wondered, but she pushed it aside. She let it sit and went back to the riff.

Until the studio door creaked open, and the voice called her. "Hina-chan. It's already late at night. Go home and take some rest."

Hinata halted her strumming. As she yanked out her IEMs, she spun her chair to see Benio, standing in the doorway. "B-Benio-san?! I thought you're still meeting with Sunburst's higher-ups."

She stood up and set aside her gold PT Fastback on the studio's wooden floor. "So, how was it? Our second album proposal?"

Benio adjusted her glasses, exhaustion etching her face under the studio's dim glow.

"Yes." She slowly nodded. "It's a greenlight. The higher-ups had approved our second album development."

Hinata couldn't contain her excitement. She cracked a smile, throwing her fist in the air with delight. "Yes! Finally!"

But Benio noticed the droopiness in Hinata's eyes despite her excitement. "I know you're excited, but let's go home and go to sleep. We'll figure it out in the morning. Capische?"

Hinata glanced at her gold PT Fastback, feeling the calluses on her fingers. She had everything since the first rehearsal in the cramped Osaka practice room: sponsorships, albums, crowds chanting their stage names, the biggest Budokan show last December, the chart position, and the label calls that used to be impossible are now just regular obligations.

But would that be worth it for the next five years? The industry didn't owe Harmoniac permanence just because it had earned it once. Labels shifted priorities, fanbases moved, and there was an endless grind with no summit.

She powered down her rigs, stashed the laptop, cased the guitar, and flicked off the lamp. The studio went dark around her, echoing her doubts.

***

Walking the empty corridor with Benio, the streetlights of Osaka's night flickered through windows. But her mind drifted to two years ago: Zepp Osaka Bayside. Harmoniac's third biggest gig yet and the closer of the Heaven's Cry tour on the 23rd of December.

The set was electric. Orchestral strings swelling over distorted guitars, and Hinata's screams piercing through the closer as the crowd screeches, almost tearing down the performance hall.

She had felt it on stage; it was a moment they'd never forget and worth every risk taken.

But backstage? It was chaos.

The monitor mix had been wrong—the mic doesn't clearly capture Inaba's crash cymbal as it sat in the wrong place in the wedge mix, which had been audible to Marina from her keyboard position and had caused an argument in the dressing room that escalated quickly.

"You're playing too loudly! If you listened, that wouldn't happen!" Marina yelled at Hinata, not for the first time that night.

In response, Hinata had yelled back, not just offstage but at her bandmates. They had gone around this loop for hours. Sound mixing debates, tone preference arguments, the fundamental tension between what a guitarist needs and what a keyboardist needs from the monitor, and how rarely those two things are the same thing.

Benio nudged her cheek to snap her back to reality. "Remember your crashout two years ago? You and Mari-chan just won't stop debating for hours."

Hinata chuckled behind a forced smile. "Yeah. We should've broken up a dozen times. Fourteen. If I remember it correctly."

She knew. Realistically, that should have been a suicide mission. The debut's success had not entirely resolved the feeling. Some part of her was still waiting for the correction to arrive.

Benio halted beside her and tapped Hinata's shoulder. "Hina-chan, we're all still here because of you."

Hinata stood still; Benio's eyes were piercing her. "Next time, be humble, and don't burn us out. We have work to do tomorrow morning. And let's make it worth fighting for."

She knew Benio didn't say it lightly.

Hinata nodded, feeling a spark of inspiration reignite within her, a direct result of her two-hour noodling session.

***

The parking lot was empty late at night; the overhead lights shone through the lot. Benio's dark purple 70s Dodge Challenger sat in the far corner where she always parked it.

Opening the door, she glanced at Hinata. "Hina-chan, remember this." A pause. "Being at the top doesn't mean we could slack off all we want. Someone is always climbing. That's not a threat; it's just the condition."

Hinata glanced at her with a steadiness. "Even if they could, they'll never be Harmoniac. Because we have one thing that others don't have."

A faint smile curled on Benio's lips. Folding herself into the Challenger, she turned the key. The Hemi V8 emitted a low and guttural roar that reverberated through the empty parking lot. The way classic American muscle announces itself before going anywhere.

The Challenger roared into the night, disappearing into the darkness with a thunderous growl. The distant growling V8 still echoed through the night streets of Osaka.

Hinata then reached for her own black Mercedes SLC, dropped into the driver's seat, and put her bag into the passenger seat.

But before starting the car, her phone buzzed with a notification from the Discord group chat of Harmoniac. It was from Marina.

"Guys! I'm really sorry! I can't join tomorrow's meeting. My schedule at Melodia Music Center would be packed until tomorrow late afternoon."

"It's alright, I'll DM you the presentation file and more," Inaba responded.

Hinata cracked a chuckle in the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot into her apartment.

The neon light of Osaka's night moved past her window. As the night grew late, Osaka remained bustling, brightly lit, and as crowded as ever.

But her mind drifted back to Liliane's Secret G cover seven years ago. It was still lingering in her mind, and it'll never fade anyway.

I wonder what happened to them. Are they disbanded? Or are they still playing together?

The SLC moved through the neon and the night. Hinata drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting against the window, feeling the vibration of the road through the glass.

She didn't have an answer yet. She had a second album to build and a morning brief in a few hours.

That was enough to get her home.