Chapter Text
“I’m home.”
Gotoh Hitori closed the door to her apartment behind her.
The hallway was dark and empty; nobody greeted her, and she didn’t bother with turning on the lights, only tossing her shoes to the side before letting herself sink to the floor in exhaustion.
Another day over.
Another day of working as just another unimportant figure in a room full of them survived.
Hitori just sat at the entrance, slowly pulling her phone from her handbag, scrolling through the messages without tapping on any of them, the screen the only thing illuminating her face.
Ah, a new upload…
Her thumb hovered over the notification for a moment.
A few years ago, she’d found this band, back then a slowly rising star in the indie scene. But it seemed like they never quite managed to find their breakout hit, and eventually progress slowed to a crawl.
Guitarists joined and left all the time, not able to live up to the standards of the group’s bassist, until she left herself due to “creative differences”, and the sound of the band slowly changed more and more to appeal to the mainstream crowd. To no avail.
Hitori eventually stopped listening to them, and to a lot of other bands as well. All it did was remind her of her failures.
Even with all her ambitious dreams, she never ended up joining a band.
And now here she was, a corporate slave in a tiny apartment, spending every day just trying to survive.
Maybe if she would’ve joined them back when the bassist was still around, she could’ve been the one to finally reach those standards. She used to be guitarhero, after all.
But, ah, that dream was dead as well. Her subscriber count eventually stalled and became nothing but another reminder of how she wasn't good enough.
…The band had changed their name a lot over the years, but the era she remembers most fondly was when they were called “Kessoku Band”.
It had been a silly name, yet there was a certain charm about it.
I wonder what they sound like now.
Tap.
Her screen went dark as the app opened and the video was loading. Throughout the entire runtime of the ad before the video, Hitori felt herself tense up, not sure what she wanted the result to be.
A terribly boring riff started playing from her phone’s speaker.
Even now, years after she’d stopped practicing, Hitori was sure she’d be able to pull it off after five minutes. Since she’d left her father’s guitar where it belonged though, she could hardly try.
That’s wrong, she thought to herself.
A bass started doodling along, sounding like a thousand other non-melodies she’d heard before.
That’s wrong.
Someone started singing, and the lyrics felt like a growing headache; no substance of any kind behind them.
That’s wrong.
Finally the drums hit, but there was clearly no passion in it. The whole song sounded like someone had typed in a bunch of keywords and let an AI generate the rest.
That’s wrong. You’re not supposed to sound like this. You’re supposed to be better.
And yet, Hitori did not stop the video.
She simply stared at the screen with empty eyes, not moving a muscle as the noises distorted by the poor quality of her phone’s speaker stabbed her heart again and again.
Why was she putting herself through this?
Was this some kind of punishment for not just getting her shit together and joining a band?
Divine retribution for being an utter waste of space?
…Before she was able to find an answer, the song ended. Slowly lifting herself from the ground, she put the phone on the counter and walked over to the fridge to grab herself a cold beer as the drummer suddenly started speaking.
“Thank you for listening to our newest song!”
Don’t thank me for that.
“We poured a lot of effort into this one, because it’s special to us.”
Is it now? I really couldn’t tell.
“That’s because we have some sad news to share with you today.”
What, are you releasing more music?
“We’re holding our final concert soon.”
Oh.
“The band is splitting up.”
Is it now, Hitori thought as she took a sip of beer.
Then, she spit it out, as the words began to sink in.
“What?!”, she heard herself shout, quickly putting a hand over her mouth after.
Shit, I hope that old guy next door isn’t going to complain about noise again…
“I hope you’ll visit STARRY to see us for our final live!”, the drummer continued as Hitori quickly moved to the counter again, picking up her phone just as the video showed the date and time of that final live.
That’s… the day after tomorrow.
Switching to the calendar app, she hastily looked up any possible events at that time.
Her heart sank.
Ah, that drinking party is happening then. I need to be there if I want to get a raise anytime soon.
For a few seconds, she stared at the reminder as if it would get intimidated and move to another time, but of course it didn’t relent.
A long sigh escaped her mouth.
Well, who cares about a random band that’s been going to shit for years now. Better to concentrate on earning more so I can find a better place to live.
She went into her room for a moment, throwing her phone onto the bed, before stretching and picking out the instant ramen for that day’s dinner.
“Which band are you here to see?”
Two days later, Hitori stood in line at STARRY.
If there was a reasonable explanation for her doing this, she hadn’t found it herself.
If anything, she kept finding reasons to leave and go to that drinking party after all. But instead of listening, she just moved forward little by little, the people in front of her thinning out until it was her turn to pay up.
Before the question was even asked, she quickly muttered the name of the band and put her money down on the table, grabbing the drink ticket and bolting to the inside of the club. Luckily nobody approached her, though there were a couple odd looks.
The crowd in front of the stage was a decent size. Hitori opted to stay in the back, where there was still plenty of free room to move about, just in case she decided to leave after all.
It wasn’t long before the last few people arrived, but there was still a little time left until the start of the performance.
Hitori stared at her drink ticket.
I-if I already have this anyway… I might as well…
Five minutes passed in which she didn’t move any closer to the bar.
Then, when she finally took that first step, there was some cheering –
There they are.
Three people walked on stage.
A bassist and a guitarist, so non-descript that Hitori feared she’d forget their faces as soon as she looked away.
And the drummer and leader of the band, Ijichi Nijika.
All Hitori could think at that moment was that she was underwhelmed.
This drummer had at some point been a reminder of what she could’ve been. Part of an indie band rising through the ranks, founded in high school. Skilled at her instrument of choice.
And she’d looked like she had fun playing.
Now, after having felt like Ijichi Nijika’s purpose on this world was to mock Hitori for years, after silently cursing her whenever she’d looked at her father’s old guitar, this idol of hers just looked exhausted and disillusioned.
You can’t be like this, Hitori thought. I’ve always hated you. I’ve always wanted to be you. You’ve hurt me so long, and I’ve looked up to you.
You were what I wanted to be.
If you look like this now –
My grand ambitions as a high schooler were nothing but foolish dreams.
Worthless.
Let me believe in a world where those dreams came true.
Hitori didn’t realize that the band had already introduced themselves until they started playing.
And what she heard made her angry.
No, it made her furious.
She had half a mind to jump on stage and take that guitar herself.
She hadn’t played in years, but she could still beat someone over the head with it.
There was absolutely no joy, no excitement in their playing. It was less than half-assed. It was depressing, awful, and just utterly devoid of any good qualities.
The concert was utter torture.
After failing at mc’ing multiple times, they eventually gave up entirely and just rushed down the rest of their setlist. It was clear that they weren’t interested in playing, they just wanted to get it all over with.
Rage kept bubbling up in Hitori, as the whole event felt like a disgrace against the pure concepts of music and performing.
And yet, when it was over, she just felt empty.
Why did she care so much anyway? If anything, she should be glad. She hadn’t missed out on anything as a teenager. Her dreams were fated to end in failure, so shouldn’t she be happy that she never actually followed them?
That’s just –
“Ijichi-san looked awful back there.”
“I knew this concert was a mistake.”
Hitori looked up as the two other members – no, ex-members of the once existing band walked right by her to leave.
That’s right, I should leave too.
If I hurry, maybe I could still make it to the drinking party before it’s over.
She slowly turned and took a step.
Maybe I can still get that raise after all.
Forward, forward.
I just need to be more proactive and butter up the boss.
Another step, another step.
Then I can break out of that trashy apartment.
Keep moving.
My life will be better.
And as she looked up from her feet, she stood in front of the door to the live house’s studio.
She knocked.
Silence.
Of course Ijichi-san would want to be left alone after that. Why did I even –
The door opened, and she stared right into very tired eyes.
“Can I help you?”, Ijichi-san asked, her voice sounding just as exhausted as her entire body looked.
“Um”, Hitori replied elegantly.
I didn’t think of anything! What am I even doing?!
“Sorry”, Ijichi-san apologized. “If there’s nothing, I’d just like to be left alone right now.”
“N-No!”, Hitori shouted a little louder than she meant to. “I-I mean – please, just – can you spare a minute?”
Ijichi-san scanned her from top to bottom back to top, before sighing and opening the door fully. “Come in.”
“Th-thank you!”
While Ijichi-san moved to sit on a chair near the wall, Hitori awkwardly shuffled just far enough into the room that she could close the door and then didn’t move any further.
“Well?”, Ijichi-san asked after a moment of silence. “What did you want from me, uh…?”
“G-Gotoh Hitori is my name. I, uh, I’ve been listening to your songs for a long time, and, uh…”
“You must be frustrated then”, Ijichi-san laughed bitterly. “To see the band split up.”
“N-no, actually. After that live, I get why you would – “
Hitori suddenly realized how awful that sentence sounded and instantly interrupted herself. “Oh god, that sounds terrible, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – “
“No, you’re right.”
“…E-eh?”
“You’re right”, Ijichi-san repeated, fully resigned. “Our music and our performances are trash. Utterly worthless. Nobody wants to listen to that.”
“B-but the crowd – “
“Probably all old fans here for one last time, since it’s the last concert and all. Usually we get, I dunno, less than half of that.”
Hitori had no reply to that.
“That’s why you’re here too, right?”
Suddenly, Hitori desperately wanted to leave after all.
But no, she’d come so far! To give up now would be a waste!
“Y-Yes. But I – “ She took a breath. “I r-really did enjoy your music before. There was a lot of life in it, back when – back when it was still Kessoku Band.”
Ijichi-san looked away, a stone-faced glare towards the wall.
“Your point?”
Shit.
Hitori laughed awkwardly. “P-point? What point?”
No, that’s not how this is supposed to go.
“Just tell me why you came here.”
…Why did she come?
No, that question was pointless.
She’d already known the answer a long time ago.
But only now she was willing to admit it to herself.
“I don’t want this band to fade away. I want it to keep existing.”
Ijichi-san turned to face her again, staring at her in disbelief. “But… why? All of its worth is gone. It’s too late now, the other two are never gonna return either.”
“It’s not too late!” Hitori looked around the room, grabbing the nearest guitar.
Ijichi-san shot up, now a worried glare in her eyes. “Hey, leave that – “
“Just – dammit, this dumb strap – “
“Put. The guitar. Back.”
Suddenly, Ijichi-san's voice was ice cold. Every fiber of Hitori’s being screamed to listen to her, to just put the guitar back and go home.
There was a moment where nothing happened.
Then,
“N-no”, Hitori got out. “I-I can play. I can – I can be the guitarist.”
Ijichi-san sighed, just sounding defeated, and dropped back onto her chair. “Whatever. Play something, but if you break anything, you’re paying.”
“Th-thank you so much!” Hitori quickly bowed, all that strength of will already having left her body again.
She didn’t connect the guitar to an amp, deciding to just get used to the feeling of even having a guitar in her hands again first.
And oh, what a feeling it was.
It felt like some dam burst deep inside of her – an inferno bubbling up from where it had long been lying dormant.
Alright, it’s time to show what I can do!
“You suck”, Ijichi-san said.
Hitori was not surprised.
It’d really been a long time, and all the calluses on her fingers were long gone as well. She’d constantly messed up, even when dialing down the tempo.
“W-with some practice – “
“You clearly haven’t done much of that in recent times. Do you even have a guitar at home?”
Ugh.
“…N-no, I don’t.”
“Sorry, but I really can’t wait for you to get the money for a good guitar first and then practice for ages to get back into the swing of things. Adult life is busy.”
She knew that herself, thank you very much.
“J-just – 24 hours! Give me 24 hours and I’ll be good to go again!”
“You still need to get a guitar.”
“M-maybe you could lend me – “
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Please!” Hitori really was desperate now. “You can lock me in this room! Take my ID and driver’s license too!”
Ijichi-san’s glare slowly softened.
“…Why is this even so important to you?”, she asked.
Hitori stared at the floor, unsure what to answer.
There was another moment of silence.
“Fine”, Ijichi-san finally relented with a sigh. “Give me your ID, and I’ll lock the front door so you can’t get out for the night. If you break anything, you’re dead and paying for it. Also, take the guitar with you, I’ll keep the other instruments locked in here.”
“Th-thank you so much!” Hitori jumped up with the guitar and quickly moved out of the room. Ijichi-san closed the door behind them, and when Hitori pulled out her ID, the drink ticket from earlier fell from her pocket.
Ijichi-san managed a weak smile. “Looks like you’ve still got a free drink. Anything you’d like?”
Not long after, Hitori was alone with the guitar, her coke, and without her ID.
Quickly drinking the entire cup empty, she got to playing.
And so she played, and played, and kept playing.
And when she thought she couldn’t go anymore, she just played more intensely.
Not looking at her phone once.
The drinking party had fully left her mind.
“I’m awful”, she whispered to herself.
And she kept playing.
Eventually, her fingertips hurt like hell.
And she kept playing.
“I sound so terrible”, she said, “and my fingers are bleeding.”
She scrunched up her face as though she was about to cry.
And she started laughing.
“It’s been so long.”
“I’m so bad at this.”
“My fingers hurt so much.”
She laughed like she hadn’t in years; pure joy flowing through her with every note, every mistake a crack in her chains.
“I’m terrible.” “It hurts.”
And finally,
“I’m so happy.”