Chapter Text
Kiyotaka triple checked his phone, rereading the message Leon had sent detailing a location, before finally knocking on the door.
(By “detailing”, he meant one line of an address and a zipcode which he “thought was right”).
The location was only a twenty minute bus ride from campus, which he’d just managed to catch after running back from his lecture to grab his guitar from his dorm.
The run had made him a little sweaty, and his face was definitely red, but it was better than having to carry his guitar around campus all day with his classes.
From the outside, it appeared to be a normal, albeit a little worn out, house. The garden was overgrown with weeds, dandelions poking out between the cracks in the slabs of concrete which created a makeshift path to the front door, which was coated in a peeling layer of dusty pink paint. It matched the colour of the curtains strewn across the windows.
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Leon seemed to have good intentions, and he’d updated his father on exactly where he was and what time he expected to arrive and depart, just on the off chance something were to go wrong.
The nerve-wracking part was more so the band. He was not a rock musician, or a group musician at all, for that matter. He hadn’t played alongside other people since orchestra club in middle school, where he was notoriously not the best team player.
He still didn’t get how playing everything correctly made him a “show off”. It wasn’t exactly his fault that the other students didn’t practice.
There was a high chance that he would meet the other band mates and face instant disliking, be recognised for his familial heritage, and be shunned away from ever meeting the group again. There was also a high chance he simply wouldn’t be able to play with them, because he’d never played rock music before.
Both were facts he’d familiarised himself with repeatedly on the bus ride over, and even though he could tell himself he was at peace with either outcome possibly coming true, he couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing for the whole journey.
But he couldn’t back down now.
Kiyotaka Ishimaru did not commit to things just to now follow them through.
After a moment of waiting, the door cracked open, and a short woman poked her head out. Waves of pink hair flooded over her shoulders, a similar shade to the front door, and a lit cigarette fell limply from the side of her mouth, glued in place by a layer of lipgloss.
“Can I help you?” She asked, the mole on her upper lip twitching as she spoke. She blew smoke from the corner of her mouth into the open air beside Kiyotaka, polluting his senses, and reaching for forgiveness with a soft smile.
He cleared his throat, coughing intentionally harshly to inform her of the detrimental effect to both herself and others which smoking in such a way could cause. “Hello. I’m looking for Leon Kuwata? I’m here to practice with his band.”
She looked him up and down, eyes scanning his guitar case. “You must be new, huh?”
So she must know them somehow. Relief washed over him that he was actually in the right place. “Yes, I am.” He nodded.
Taking a step back, she held the door open for Kiyotaka, seemingly unbothered by smoking inside of the house. “Yeah, they’re out in the garage. I’ll show you round.”
The floors were wooden and glossy, but covered with various patterned rugs, each splashed in warm colours of red and orange. Matching warm lights peeked out of each corner, creating a sense of cosiness inside, which eased Kiyotaka’s tension slightly. He didn’t know who this woman was, but she seemed friendly, at least.
“My name’s Hiroko, by the way. It’s my house you boys practice at,” she chuckled, squeezing past a chest of drawers in the hallway. “Don’t mind the mess, Hiro’s been working lately, so nobody’s around to keep the place in order.”
He didn’t know who that was either, but it felt rude to point that out in the moment. “It’s alright, honestly,” he replied, lifting his guitar case to swing it past the same furniture.
Hiroko stopped in front of him, and Kiyotaka made a halt himself. Leon Kuwata was in front of her, peeking around her frame to where he was stood in the hall instead.
“Hey man,” Leon grinned, flashing his white teeth. He stretched a hand out towards him. “Had a feeling it’d be you.”
Kiyotaka gripped his palm firmly, delivering a proper, solid handshake. To his surprise, Leon responded by sliding his hand against his own and squeezing his fingers. It was a weird gesture, but he looked almost offended that Kiyotaka didn’t replicate the motion.
“Anyways, how are you feeling? Found the place alright, eh?”
Kiyotaka blinked. “Oh, yes. It was rather easy to navigate, actually. Thank you for having me.”
“You okay to show him out?” Hiroko asked.
“You can count on me, ma’am. Don’t worry, we’ll play nice.” Leon winked at her, which made her chuckle.
“I’m sure you will. I’ve got work at nine, so if you’re out after that, remind Hiro to lock the garage.”
Leon gave her a sparky salute and Hiroko turned into another room across the cramped hallway, through a frosted glass door with a gold handle.
“Anyways,” Leon sniffed, turning back to Kiyotaka. “You ready?”
“I think so,” he replied. “Are the rest of them through there?”
“Just Hiro, our bassist. C’mon, let’s get you set up.”
He led him down the short duration of the rest of the house, through a kitchen that was surprisingly empty, compared to the rest of the house. It smelled of bread and cumin, and the air felt warm, giving the impression that there had been someone cooking in there recently.
Eventually, they met the garage through another frosted-glass window door at the back of the kitchen.
“Ishimaru’s here,” Leon called into the space, trotting down the cement steps.
The inside of the garage was cluttered, particularly around the edges of the space, where miscellaneous items had been shoved and stacked to clear an opening in the centre of the room, where the only clutter was an abundance of musical equipment.
The tower of amplifiers reached higher than Kiyotaka’s head, and the wires that swam across the ground were bound to be a safety hazard. In amongst the jungle, stood with a dark blue guitar, there was another man with his back towards him.
As Kiyotaka stepped carefully through the few blanks of floor space, he must have caught his attention as he spun around, his guitar following around his side, held up by a paisley-print strap.
He was slender, and relatively tall - a little taller than Kiyotaka, but he held himself with a slouch, making them around equals.
Long dreadlocks framed his face, which was angular and asymmetrical, and scuffed with recently shaved facial hair. His eyebags were noticeable in a way that Kiyotaka would usually remark on as being concerning, yet today, his mouth felt dry.
"Hey man," the man gave him an awkward smile, holding his hand out towards him.
His palms were calloused and rough, and there were remains of inky messages written into the back of his hand. Strings and beads of bracelets stacked up his wrists in an assortment of faded browns and greens.
Kiyotaka shook his hand firmly, returning the smile with great force. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" He barked. "My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru."
He nodded with a chuckle. "Like Leon said, yeah. My name’s Hiro. Short for Yasuhiro, but Hiro's fine. Whilst his demeanour seemed anxious, likely from first meeting, his tone of voice was unusually calm. “Or Hagakure, if you're that formal," he added.
"Thank you, Hagakure."
"So you're gonna play that thing?" He asked, nodding his head towards Kiyotaka's guitar case.
"Oh, erm.." Kiyotaka looked back at Leon, who's eyes were locked into his phone. As he typed aggressively into its silver screen, he bit down on his lip, bulging around the metal ring looped through it.
"Kuwata?"
"Hm?" He replied, not looking up.
"Are you wanting me to use my guitar today?"
Leon snorted a laugh, this time glancing up. He looked between Kiyotaka and his guitar case.
"Fuck no, dude. That's not gonna fit this band. I got a spare ibanez with me, just..." his attention went back to his phone as his voice trailed off.
"I assume that's a brand of guitar?" Kiyotaka whispered to Yasuhiro, who nodded.
"Are you sure he's okay with me using his things?"
Yasuhiro shrugged. "I mean, probably, if he offered. Just don't break it. Leon's guitars are like his babies." He laughed.
Kiyotaka laughed along, albeit uncomfortably, as he did not find the idea funny at all. He'd never laid a finger on an electric guitar before, and he was well aware of their cost.
If he happened to somehow damage Leon's guitars, there would be no way in hell he could pay it back.
"Mondo's on the way," Leon called, this time with his phone nowhere to be seen. That must have been who he was messaging, Kiyotaka thought. "Almost here. He got stuck in traffic or something."
"Is Mondo your drummer?" He asked.
"Yeah. You uh, might wanna be careful around him. Just stay on edge, y’know? He's not all too fond of the new band member idea." Yasuhiro sounded forcefully upbeat, like he was trying to make light of bad news.
"Don't scare him, it'll be fine." Leon stomped towards the pair and took over the amplifiers in the corner, crouching down to fiddle with a cable poking out of the one at the bottom of the stack. It made a crackling sound whenever he touched it.
"Hiro, do you have any spare leads?"
Yasuhiro patted over his chest and backside, as if there could be cables unknowingly in his pockets. "Not on me, but I'll have one upstairs."
Kiyotaka stood awkwardly to the side, still clutching his guitar case, waiting for some kind of instruction or direction from either other member of the band.
Yasuhiro disappeared through the doorway he'd been led to the garage through earlier, leaving him and Leon together again.
"You can put your shit down anywhere, as long as it's out the way," Leon gestured vaguely at him with one hand, using his other to open a guitar case of his own.
Kiyotaka's jaw dropped when he popped it open.
The guitar inside listened under the warm light of the garage, sparkling like a disco ball.
Its surface was a variety of metallic greens and blues and purples, shining in a twisted way that reminded him of oil or fish scales.
"Wow," he said, letting the sound escape his lips without much control. "It's beautiful."
"This old thing?" Leon laughed, sliding it out of the case and propping it under one arm. A navy blue strap dripped off of its side, hanging beside him limply. "It's okay, I guess. Plays fine enough. I kinda think it's too flashy for my style, though."
He turned it over in his hands, pulling a strange face at its body.
Kiyotaka hesitated before asking his next question.
"Is that the one you want me to play?"
Leon held the guitar towards him in confirmation. "If you play here like you played in that practice room, she's all yours."
Kiyotaka held the guitar awkwardly in front of himself for a moment, taking in its beauty. It was weighty, but not too heavy, and other than the school computers, probably the most expensive thing Kiyotaa had ever touched.
“I promise I won’t let you down!” He exclaimed.
The ginger chuckled to himself, leaving Kiyotaka to ogle the guitar whilst he started setting up his own gear.
Even holding the machine felt like an honour. Strapped around his body, resting comfortably around his neck, the guitar felt like some kind of weapon. Not in the way that he associated it with violence! But it made him feel…powerful. Important.
He practised sculpting his fingers around the frets. Immediately he noticed how, on this electric guitar, everything was much slimmer and closer together than he was used to on his classical guitar. The strings were steel, too, rather than nylon, which felt sharper under his fingerprints as he pressed them into the neck.
It was different. He wouldn’t let it scare him, though- he couldn’t, as he was already here, and to hand it back immediately and turn on his heel would be incredibly rude! He’d just need to try, to make do with what skills he had. Transferability was vital, right?
Leon sat cross legged on the ground now, leaning back on his hands. Kiyotaka’s nose wrinkled at the thought of choosing to sit on the dirty ground of a garage, especially one in this state, but it didn’t seem like there were any chairs in there, aside from the leather stool behind the drum kit.
“Soo..” Leon was playing with his tongue piercing, poking the silver bar out between his teeth.
“So?”
“What kinda music are you into?”
Kiyotaka thought for a moment. “Well, I mostly listen to classical, if I’m going to listen to anything. I prefer to work in silence, though.
“Classical music is ass,” Leon replied. “You never listen to a bit of rock? You seem like a Beatles guy to me.”
“I suppose I like the Beatles, yes. My father had some of their stuff on vinyl.”
“Cool,” Leon grinned. “Then you’re like, one step away from punk rock.”
Kiyotaka let out a short laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m a punk rocker quite yet.”
“You’ll ease into it,” Leon shrugged. “Ever heard of the Cult? The Damned? The Clash?”
Kiyotaka shook his head to each name, which appearwd to baffle Leon. He buzzed his lips.
“Well, that’s you’re homework then, mister moral compass.” Leon teased. Kiyotaka was surprised he’d even remembered his ultimate. “That’s what you’re at Hope’s Peak for, right?”
“Well, it’s technically politics. I am the ultimate moral compass though, yes,” he explained. Leon nodded slowly. “You’re in for baseball, right?”
He groaned. “Yeah, but I hate it. Baseball’s boring as it is, and sport science is even boringer. Who cares about nutrition?”
“Nutrition is a vital topic to be knowledgeable about!” Kiyotaka disagreed. “It will benefit you greatly in the future, I’m sure. As will keeping healthy by playing baseball!”
“Health isn’t exactly my priority,” Leon laughed. “I’m gonna be a rockstar, dude. Getting my daily movement isn’t very punk rock.”
The idea of dreaming to be a rockstar was quite childish, in Kiyotaka's opinion. It wasn’t exactly a stable career path, and it seemed a waste that he was wasting a Hope’s Peak scholarship to go completely astray with his future.
But then again, who was an Ishimaru to talk about poor career decisions?
“Is that Hagakure’s girlfriend?” he asked, deciding to change the subject. He pointed behind him with a thumb, back at the garage door.
Leon gave him a strange look. “Who, Hiroko?”
Kiyotaka nodded, which made Leon burst out laughing. He felt his face redden. “Fuck no, dude, that’s his mom.”
“His mother?” Kiyotaka raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Gosh, she looks young.”
“‘Cause she is,” Leon said, still laughing slightly. “She’s bad as hell, right?”
“Bad at what?”
Leon stopped, leaning back again and smiling at him. “You’re funny, Ishimaru.”
"So this is the newbie, huh?"
Kiyotaka snapped his head up, abandoning his appreciation for Leon's compliment (regardless of how confused he was to receive it), staring at the doorway. Leon's reaction was just as hurried.
It wasn't Hagakure in the doorway this time - instead, it was a broad, angry looking man, with a furrowed brow and an outrageous hairstyle.
Beneath a heavy layer of intense eyeliner, a bright pair of silver eyes glared at Kiyotaka, narrowing on the guitar in his hands.
"Why's he got your guitar?" He asked coldly, turning his head towards Leon.
Leon raised his hands quickly. "I let him borrow it. He ain't got his own."
"Of course he doesn't." The other man, who Kiyotaka could only assume was Mondo, scoffed a laugh.
Kiyotaka shifted his feet uncomfortably. The guitar felt suddenly heavier around his neck, and he could feel sweet between his palms and its cold metallic body.
He cleared his throat. "My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mondo?"
"It's Owada." Mondo spat. "Don't talk to me like we're friends."
He turned his back on Kiyotaka and marched down towards the rickety drumkit parked beside the door.
A knot twisted in Kiyotaka's stomach.
Luckily, distraction arrived in the form of Yasuhiro, who had an armful of black cables. “I got the leads,” he said, closing the garage door behind himself. “Oh, hey Mondo.”
Mondo grunted in response, nodding curtly at him, giving no direct welcoming. Kiyotaka didn’t appreciate how rude he was being, not just to himself, but to Yasuhiro now too. He seemed nice, and Mondo was supposedly his friend.
Leon and Yasuhiro exchanged a look. Yasuhiro finished wiring things together, fitting amplifiers to all three guitars, a microphone, as well as a strange board covered in colourful blocks that each had an array of nozzles and switches.
He wanted to ask what it was, but he held back. Now was not the time for questions. Not with Mondo’s eagle eyes on him at least, which had been following even the slightest movement he made whilst standing silently in the corner.
“So, Ishimaru,” Leon lifted his own guitar over his neck, held in place by the strap. “We’re gonna play something we know, and you just listen first, okay? Then we can see to you playing something.”
He gave Leon a thumbs up. “Alright, that works.”
He stood back from the group, forming a one-man audience across from them in the garage, waiting as they finished tuning up and checked with one another that they were ready to start.
Mondo slid off his heavy leather biker jacket, revealing himself to have tanned, toned arms, bulging with muscles. Everything about his frame was broad; his shoulders, his jaw, even his ridiculous hairstyle. Mondo Owada wanted himself to be large.
It was admittedly impressive, his physique; the kind men spent years in the gym aching to achieve, paining away over intensive workout routines and strict protein-dense diets. It showed a level of discipline, to commit to a healthy life in that way, which Kiyotaka honestly hadn’t expected.
He clutched a drumstick between each hand, which appeared stalky and frail compared to the thickness of his fingers. After clicking them together sharply three times, he began to play a fervent roll on the drumkit in front of him, making Kiyotaka take a step back. As if on cue, Leon and Yasuhiro followed his notion, starting up some kind of melody with their guitars.
It was loud. Uncomfortably so. Kiyotaka hunched his shoulders in retaliation, instinctively going to cover his ears. None of the boys seemed to notice his discomfort, too focused on what they were playing.
It was brash, it was heavy, it was crashy. Their guitars were distorted and the beats of the drum seemed never ending.
After a segment of this grating sound, they suddenly died out, leaving a whistle of high pitched screech fading behind themselves. He removed his hands from his ears. Just as Kiyotaka was about to remark on it being an incredibly short song, Leon's voice sounded through the microphone.
Oh. That was just the introduction.
Leon's voice was raspy, a little nasally, and the lyrics he sang didn’t seem all that meaningful. After a bar or so, the drumming began again, as did Yasuhiro’s guitar, and then Leon joined back in with his own too.
As they played, Leon and Yasuhiro made a significant amount of eye contact, silently signalling to each other. Well, it wasn’t like they could exactly talk to each other in a situation like that, so it made sense. Yasuhiro also regularly looked over his shoulder, so often to the point he basically stood side-on as he played, constantly observing the way Mondo was playing.
Mondo was lightly shiny from sweat as he played, thrashing his arms, hitting each pad of the drums as if they were a personal enemy of his. His lips were slightly parted, his teeth tightly grit. The muscles under his tank top bulging with each beat.
Kiyotaka tore his eyes away. That was odd.
After what seemed like forever, the banging stopped, with a crescendo at the end and a particularly long note held by Leon. The same screeching sound rang out, but this time Yasuhiro fiddled a nozzle on the side of his bass before scuttling to the stack of amplifiers behind him, a puzzled look on his face as he checked the cables.
Leon rolled his eyes, pressing something on the board on the ground in front of him before letting his guitar drop to his side.
“So?”
Kiyotaka breathed in deeply. “Well, it was something.”
Leon let out a short laugh. “Really? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“So you think we’re shit.” Mondo butt in, glaring at him from the corner.
“It wasn’t bad!” Kiyotaka raised his hands defensively. “It was just…a lot.”
“Oh yeah?” He growled, suddenly banging the cymbals on his kit in an unorderly way, making a sound that definitely wasn’t intentional, even for that aggressive of a genre. The outburst made Yasuhiro jump.
“This too much for ya?” He shouted over the sound. When Leon turned towards him, Mondo stopped, huffing back on his drumming stool. The remainder of his rage echoed around the room.
“Dude, what the hell?”
“He doesn’t like our music. End of. Why the hell’s he even here if he can’t take a bit of noise?”
Kiyotaka folded his arms. “I can handle noise, I’m just not familiar with the genre. And I don’t appreciate your effort to intimidate me.”
Mondo blinked at him slowly, his eyes set low like the predatory animals Kiyotaka had seen in many biological documentaries.
He was no prey, however. He puffed out his chest and forced a smile at Leon instead, ignoring him. “I’m interested in how I can be of assistance to this?”
“I was thinking, you add another guitar, basically doing what I was doing there, ‘cause it gives me more space to add cool solo bits over the top, y’know?” Leon panned his hands in front of him as if painting a bigger picture.
“For that song in particular?”
Leon nodded. “Yeah. You know chords, right?”
Once the basic structure of the tune was explained to him, Leon showed Kiyotaka the basics of how to work his guitar, going through the volume and tone knobs, and showing him how to keep the lead under his strap before plugging it in.
“So just play along as best you can, right? I’ll be playing the same as you for the most part, then when I drop out to do something kick-ass, you stay on the same riff.”
Kiyotaka nodded to his words, showing his understanding. The chord structure was very basic, and required only power chords from one key. It was relatively easily structured. Leon had also informed him that they’d all turned down this time, so it would be significantly quieter as a playthrough, provided Mondo didn’t freak out on his drum kit again. That way it was easier to point out if someone was going wrong.
Mondo began the same countdown with his drumsticks as before, although significantly lighter this time, and Kiyotaka took a deep breath. A, C, E, G. He could do this! It was just four simple chords, with the occasional rise and fall in volume to keep up with the pace of the song.
He kept his eyes on Leon as they played, following the changes his hands made along the fret of his own guitar. It felt unusual at first, but within the first few rounds of eight, Kiyotaka had a pretty strong understanding of what he was doing.
Leon stopped playing, nodding his head towards Kiyotaka - he was silently signalling to him this time, urging him to just keep going. Kiyotaka maintained the pace of his strumming, repeating the same four chords as instructed as Leon began twinkling his hands across the guitar's neck, playing the solo he’d mentioned earlier.
Kiyotaka winced, looking at Leon sideways. Whilst he wasn’t familiar with the genre, he was still somewhat a guitar player, and there was basic music theory which he could confidently say he knew.
Whatever Leon was playing didn’t really fit into anything. The notes were jumbled and unclear, the pace he was playing wasn't aligned with that of the song they were working through, and there wasn’t any real theme under the sections he repeated. There was barely any repetition at all.
The sound suddenly went flat as Mondo stopped playing. Kiyotaka and Yasuhiro followed suit, that ringing sound from their guitars reverberating around the circle.
"What?" Leon said expectantly.
"What the fuck was that?" Mondo laughed gruffly.
Leon blinked. "That was my solo."
"You made that up...on the spot?" Kiyotaka asked.
"Duh. ‘Course I did."
Kiyotaka pursed his lips, nodding slowly. "Have you ever done that before?"
"Fucks your problem, man?" Leon growled. "It needs a little tweaking, sure, but it was a first time improv!"
"If you're going to try to improvise," Kiyotaka turned his body towards him, placing his finger across the 5th fret of his own- Leons other- guitar. "You should work within the range of the root chord for that section."
He strummed, the sound reverberating around the room, shaking the snare on Mondo's drumkit. Leon watched with an unamused expression.
"Go through the notes you're working with - A, to C, to E, to G. Moving between the strings from their fifth down," he plucked across, sequentially moving his fingers to align with his description, "will create a more cohesive sound. Do that for each chord, and implement passing notes, then speed it up."
As he played through the pattern he decided to throw in a few additional notes, creating a more complex sound. The electric guitar was surprisingly easy to play, once you got the hang of it. The frets being smaller meant there was less handspan required to play complicated patterns, however he did have to be careful to not overlap with strings. To his surprise, this mistake created an interesting sound sometimes too, with a little more depth than he’d intended.
It had a much twangier sound than he was used to as well, but it wasn’t something he was opposed to. Without the bashing and vulgarity of the drumkit and distorted bass guitar backing it, without the power chords and screamed profanities, the electric guitar had a crystal sound when isolated. Kiyotaka was actually quite fond.
After playing for a moment, he looked up, scanning the faces of the other band members. Leon and Mondo shared an expression he couldn’t quite read - they looked somewhat surprised, but also disgruntled. It wasn’t a pleasant expression. On the contrary, Yasuhiro seemed thoroughly impressed.
“I apologise, I got carried away. Nonetheless, do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah yeah, whatever. I just need practice, I’m rusty.” Leon waved him off with one hand.
Yasuhiro nudged his shoulder. “That was sick, man.”
He smiled at him. “Thank you, Hagakure.”
“Show off.” Mondo grunted. Kiyotaka chose to ignore him, just as he had done with those other kids at orchestra.
“Are we gonna go again?” Yasuhiro asked, satisfied with whateve he’d changed on the amplifier. Leon looked around the group, who all seemed on board.
“Yeah, might as well. Hey, leave it to me, okay? I know what I’m doing.” He put a hand on Leon's shoulder with another forceful grin, then stepped back and turned his guitar back up.
They returned to their prior formation and started up the same song again, which they played over, and over, and over, half of the time with Leon's attempted solos, the other half with a sixteen-bar break of the same repeating chords. With no intention of bragging, Kiyotaka couldn’t help but notice the significant difference between his improvising after the tips he had received. Leon must be a fast learner!
They played a few other songs too, briefly and with less intention, some of which Kiyotaka was told with covers, however none of them were anything he knew before. He made a mental note to research these bands at some point when he got home, even though he doubted he’d listen to them much by choice.
As the evening ran on and the sky grew darker and darker through the windows in Yasuhiro’s garage, the motivation in the room dropped, with their playing becoming sloppier and the breaks between each song growing longer, filled with more menial conversations.
“You seriously don’t know her? She’s my year, pink hair she always wears in pigtails, my height, evil energy. I swear she works there.”
Yasuhiro shook his head, not recognising the name Leon had brought up as an apparent coworker at the new job he’d picked up. “Not a clue, dude. And trust, I’d know if there was evil energy around.”
Kiyotaka checked his watch, then frowned. He removed Leons guitar from around himself, scanning the room for whereever the other had left its case.
Leon raised an eyebrow at him. “Ishimaru, you alright?”
“Yes, everythings fine,” he replied, crouching down to lay it into the guitar case. “My bus back to campus is in seventeen minutes, so I really should be going. I need to walk back to the bus stop, afterall.”
“Awh man,” he sighed, stretching out his back. “Fair enough, though. Hey, today was good, yeah?”
“I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Thank you for having me and letting me borrow your guitar.” He bowed to Leon, who laughed at the action. He seemed to laugh at everything, but Kiyotaka didn't mind. It was better than reacting to every word he said with a glare as if he’d spoken straight insults, as another band member seemed to do.
After a short goodbye to the other two and a thank you to Yasuhiro for letting him into his home, Kiyotaka found his way out to the front of Yasuhiro's house again, picking his unused guitar up on the way, beginning his journey back to the bus station he’d been dropped at hours ago. It felt much heavier in his hands now, with the phantom feeling of having a guitar around his chest still lingering. The sky was a dark, inky blue by this time, and the breeze was cold enough to run a chill up his spine, despite the trenchcoat he was wearing over his sweater.
As he walked, he opened his phone, searching for the band names Leon had mentioned earlier.
He had listening to do.