Chapter Text
Three Months Later
“Ow ow ow owie!”
Kita pulled her hand off the guitar and tried to shake it hard enough to numb the pain in her fingers. I thought I had good enough callouses for playing just about anything now, but these big bends really hurt!
For the millionth time that hour she wondered why somebody would subject themselves to such torture as to dig a metal wire into their fingertips. But then she remembered how hearing Hitori bend the G-string up made her feel like she was flying and she quickly found an answer to her question. After a moment to breathe she starts up the song again and digs back in.
She’d lived and breathed the playlist Naoki-san had given her for the past three months. Following instructions, she drank it greedily, obsessing over everything she’d found that she liked. She’d added a few things to it using recommendations the algorithm had given her; but this was truly HER playlist now, no doubt about it.
She knew every contour of the songs she’d fallen for. She even went back and listened to the full albums of the ones she liked. She was shocked by how hard some of those old songs from the 60’s and 70’s rocked, but mostly she was surprised by how catchy some of it was. The later 80’s and 90’s alt stuff were some of the loudest things she’d ever heard, but still it was so inexplicably CATCHY. Some of those guitarists were able to make fifteen distinct catchy melodies in every solo they did. It was inexplicable.
She felt like she’d discovered the best kept secret in music. That every catchy melody she’d heard listening to her favorite pop artists growing up had already been played by a musician during some live show that happened well before even her parents were even born. With only twelve notes there were only so many combinations, so many permutations. That likely before 1900 we’d likely made every catchy thing ever made just because we were here and we LIVED and that’s what happens when you give a species infinite time.
Truly though, her biggest shock though was not the reveal of the idea that yes, given the time an infinite number of monkeys will indeed write all of Shakespeare, but instead... the realization that it is exactly that lineage that Naoki was telling her about. An endless conversation, handed down through generations of musicians iterating and transforming the same things over and over again with only their personality able to differentiate them from those that would come before or after.
An endless, beautiful jam. From the first cavemen to hit their spears on rocks in order to make the rest of their tribe dance, all the way down to Ikuyo Kita, sitting in her bedroom learning how to capture the sun she sees in her dreams in every note she plays.
In the end she got a general idea of what she was looking for: the kind of guitarist Kita liked to hear.
1) Shredding was just. too. much. There was a Kiss song in the playlist, and that and other metal stuff sounded too much like Hitori. And there was almost NOTHING in this world Kita loved more than Hitori’s playing, but to Kita something about her doing it felt... wrong. She loved the thunder and the storm, but Kita knew she wasn’t that. So, shredding was out, if not for lack of technical ability then at least for lack of desire. Hitori could bring the thunder plenty fine.
2) She didn’t know much about the guitarist for the first song in the playlist, but she adored whatever he was smoking. When she had made her way through the ‘classic rock’ (or boomer jams, as Ryo-senpai called them) section of the playlist, that song was the one she’d kept coming back to. She knew a person’s style was a combination of bits from different influences, and she wanted a bit of whatever he had. And she was fighting tooth and nail for it.
She had found an Oh!Tube video of the song without the lead guitar and lyrics, and was currently bashing her head against a wall trying to learn what bits of the original solo by ear and then attempting to apply that, plus the motions of the scales she’d learned, to the backing track. She’d been at that for the past week and a half, and while progress was slow, it wasn’t nonexistent.
Kita had learned quite a few of what Ryo-senpai called “licks”, and she had a favorite. It wasn’t anything special; if they were playing in A major it’s just a bend up on the B-string two steps up at fret 15, a hammer-on between frets 14 and 15, and then and then down to the G-ing hitting fret 16 and then 14. It was pretty simple on its own, she had a tendency to either bend the B-string too much or not enough, and the hammer-ons had about a 75% clarity success rate, but it was certainly a lick. In the major scale no less.
And Kita absolutely LOVED it.
She fit it into every practice session she had. She fit it into jams. She was pretty sure Hitori would burst a blood vessel if she heard it again. She had even managed to fit it into practice during their song “Distortion!” and while it was the worst of both worlds (she had bent the string far too high and the trill was less a hammer-on to the 10th fret and more of a hammer-on to the percussive sound of a deadened string) it was a REAL lick that she got into one of THEIR songs and she managed to pull it off without derailing the entire song!
She could have rode the high from that moment into the sun and still had energy to spare.
As a result, the past three months have been nothing but listening and practicing. Hitori had even exchanged the second half of their usual lessons from running through songs to just jamming, and Kita craved those jam sessions more than anything in the world.
They were the perfect opportunity to get a front row seat to everything Kita loved about playing guitar. Hitori was incredibly encouraging and nearly far too accommodating considering the fact that they exclusively jammed at Kita’s pace, with Hitori clearly wearing kid gloves as to not shred the skin of Kita’s face and hands before she even got her turn with the lead. A classic Bocchi move.
The backing track wound to an end as Kita stopped practicing for the day. She wanted to have some recovery time before Kessoku Band’s practice later (the groves in her fingertips could likely irrigate a rice field), and since it was Saturday, it was the perfect time to catch up on some schoolwork.
She sat down at her desk and opened her massive schedule binder. This is her senior year of high school, after all, and while music was her new forever obsession, she knew she had to make sure her grades didn’t drop. She’d kept some of the top marks in her grade since primary school, and she knew she couldn’t drop the ball on her final year.
She turned the pages to her calculus homework. Accursed numbers. Oh god Dickey Betts PLEASE take me back to the sunny place. She let her head flop onto her binder. With how often that happened this year, it’s a wonder a dent hadn’t formed in the desk below.
I think I’m finally starting to understand Hitori-chan’s distaste for school now. This is torture!
She turned her head to stare at her guitar sitting in its stand in the corner of the room. She wanted nothing more than to keep playing, and then to keep feeling the feeling it gave her to play.
I have no idea how the rest of the band has managed to stay in school for so long... They’ve had this passion for nearly half their lives and I’ve had it for two years at most; hell, I’ve only really had it bad for 3 months! And everything else that isn’t music feels like TORTURE!
Kita thought to the other band members. She supposed Nijika really did never get a break from music; it had been around for her whole life. When Ryo wasn’t playing she was at record stores or shows listening and participating. And it had most certainly affected her schoolwork. And Hitori... well Hitori had spent her entire middle school career and a decent portion of her high school career inside her closet practicing.
She wondered if maybe Kessoku Band has a serious moderation issue. And she was supposed to be the “normal” one, according to Ryo-senpai and Hitori-chan!
She turns her still resting head to once again glance at her guitar. She can hear it begging her to play more, promising her sunshine and green fields free of calculus and cicada screams.
I’m just as bad as they are now, aren’t I?
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Naoki wasn’t kidding; this truly is an obsession in every sense imaginable. The silence currently in her ears is deafening and she wishes desperately to reach for her earbuds and play her songs again.
She’d never craved music like this before. She’d never craved nearly anything like this. She’d liked things—hell, she’d loved things. But this wasn’t pushing herself physically in basketball, or delving into color theory in order to better match makeup palettes across brands in order to best reproduce a look she liked whilst still saving the most money. This was something she had somehow managed inexorably tie to parts of her brain that needed fed, nurtured, and attended to in ways that she worried she could never return from. If she failed to feed this new beast that had taken up nearly as much real estate in her head and heart as her blood, she feared she would now starve.
The sound of her ringtone for Ryo broke her out of her stupor. She scrambled for her phone and it slipped from her grip so she pursued, grabbing at it with the desperation of a climber grappling with the last few stones before the summit. The sound of some noise song Ryo recommended a near eternity ago played as she breathed heavily from the sudden movement. She hated that she kind of understood what Ryo liked about the noisy din now; the screaming guitars were starting to appeal to her. She hastily answered the phone; not watching her tone as she spoke out loud to another living creature for the first time that day.
“HEBLO?!” Nailed it.
“I feel like you’re far too popular for me to somehow consistently be the first person you speak to on any given Saturday,” Ryo’s flat affectation seemed to magically translate perfectly well through audio. The bass in her voice made the ground rumble under Kita’s feet.
“That’s not fair! I’ve been practicing extra hard! Besides, it's not like you’re the only person who calls me!” the pause after that statement is the meanest the concept of silence had been to Kita since it wasn’t the sound of her music moments ago. “Er- Ijichi-Senpai calls sometimes.”
“My god that was so pathetic. It’s enough to make a grown woman cry. Do all your trendy friends only text?”
Kita groaned. “YES. They all just communicate through loine! Not going to lie, your absolute determination to call people is pretty unique amongst people our age.”
“I got sick and tired of trying to understand what everybody’s stupid emojis meant. Besides, calling people is much more personable. It's very rock.”
“No offense, Ryo-senpai, but when has anybody ever accused you of being personable?”
“Hmm... apparently a side effect of learning the major scale is being more hurtful to your friends; I’ll be sure to let our next lead vocalist know. I’m sure she won’t be so mean.”
Kita laughed despite herself. “Okay, okay, fair enough. I’m sorry. Why don’t you let me know what was worth calling and being so personable about then?”
“Come to the practice space early. I wanna jam.”
“J-Jam?” Kita shot straight up in her seat. “With me? But I just- I just started learning! Are you sure?”
“I can feel your blush through the phone; settle down, Ikyuo. And yeah, I wanna jam with you. You and Bocchi have been putting in extra time, I’m told, and since I'M the one who started you on this path anyway, I think I deserve to see firsthand. Besides, don't be so worried, I heard your ‘lick’ during practice the other day. I think you’re more than ready to jam.”
The emotional whiplash between being called her first name and then having her lick given recognition would be enough to break a lesser being, but Kita stood strong. Ryo-senpai couldn’t keep using flattery to get what she wanted out of her; she was a real musician now. She wouldn’t be so easily manipulated by praise.
“Ehehe did you like it?~ I wasn’t sure anybody noticed!~ It’s just a little something I’ve been working on nothing special hehehe!~”
The last vestiges of sanity remaining in Ikuyo Kita’s head thought that if she is ever able to ask God a question, it will be: do ALL guitarists inevitably become Hitori-chan, or if it's only the ones that have been taught by her? Kita hoped it was the latter, mostly just because of it being a much smaller demographic.
Kita swore she could hear Ryo nearly laughing through her babbling. When she was done, Ryo simply said, “I’ll take all that as a yes; I’ll see you at Starry in a bit.” and hung up the phone. Kita felt the blush from Ryo’s compliment fall from her face as she sat in silence again. She had been completely mentally dominated.
She thinks about pitching an absolute fit for about 5 seconds before she stands up and gathers her things. This was a chance. A chance to really see if all this practicing had paid off, a chance to prove to Ryo-senpai, one of the reasons she wanted to be a musician in the first place, that she was a real guitarist. She was so excited! She was-
Strangely, very, very nervous. There’s no Hitori-chan to cover for me. I’m going to have to play well. I’m going to have to show my stuff. I’m going to have to-
“Relax, b-breathe.” Hitori-chan told her. “If you tense up like that it’s going to make it hard for you to let the music flow.”
“Ugh, it doesn’t make any sense! How on earth am I supposed to play these super specific notes AND relax and let it ‘flow’? They’re, like, on totally opposite ends of the spectrum!”
“It really DOES seem that way, doesn’t it?” Hitori offered a sympathetic smile. “B-but I think the fact that you’re thinking so much about the shape of the scale and not what you want to play is part of the problem.”
Hitori thought to herself for a moment. “When you improvised that bit at the culture festival to cover my technical issues, were you thinking about the shape of the chords?”
“No? At least I don’t think so. I had played melodies like that before; just moving octaves up and down the neck sounds really good.”
“W-well, you have the right idea there! All these notes are just that exact idea on a bigger scale. You knew where you needed to play to sound good in the key of the song and that’s what this is! But it’s only half the battle. What were you thinking about when you played that part?”
Kita stiffened. Hitori’s eyes widened, quickly backpedaling, worried she’d overstepped.
“H-hey, we don’t have to push this today! W-we can come back to it next time! We-”
“No.” Kita cut her off. Her shoulders were still stiff and her mouth stretched in a thin line across her face. “I... I shouldn’t be embarrassed. You’re my friend, Hitori-chan, and I shouldn’t be so nervous around you.”
“I don’t really think you seem too nervous, more pissed maybe...”
“Regardless,” Kita continued, “I was just thinking about...”
Silence.
“Um, Kita-chan?”
Kita looked... for lack of a better word just plain constipated. Her face was screwed up tightly as she squirmed in her seat, her cheeks brushed with a light shade of pink as she seemed to be attempting to win the first competition of who can hold their breath and hyperventilate at the same time somehow the longest. Hitorti can’t remember EVER seeing her so conflicted and maybe... embarrassed? It was quite frankly hard to tell. But Hitori hated seeing her so uncomfortable.
“K-Kita-”
SMACK. Kita brought a hand to each of her own cheeks. “I wasthinkingabouthowIwantedeverybodyelsetoseehOWCOOLYOUAre! There GOD finally I said it!”
...
...
...
Silence. Deep silence. Deep, long, UNCOMFORTABLE silence. Oh, and the regret. The incredible bone-shaking regret. Kita stared at her shoes. She was determined to be more honest with Hitori, to stop looking up to her as her only shining star and blaze her own path as Naoki said she should.
‘But I never EVER intended to tell her that!’ Kita internally slammed her head into the wall. ‘My God, how embarrassing! How is anybody on earth supposed to respond to that, let alone poor Hitori-chan? What have I done?’
“I...” Hitori’s voice came out somehow even quieter than usual, “I’m the reason you did that? It wasn’t my technical screw up? It was because you just KNEW I’d figure it out? That’s...”
Damage control time. “Ah! Haha, yeah, I know it’s a lot. You can just pretend you didn’t hear that if it helps!”
“That’s-”
“I just think I got carried away! We’ve been working together so much lately and I suppose I just have you on my mind, is all! Don’t worry-”
“That’s INSANE! Are you out of your MIND? We’d known each other for like, a few months at MOST and you already thought that much of me? You guys didn’t even know I was guitarhero yet! The most impressive playing you’d heard from me was from when I was in a cardboard box!” Hitori broke down into her usual laughter consisting mostly of unhinged chuckles and snorts. Over the past two years, Kita had learned to love that laugh, as it meant Hitori was having a good enough time to let her guard down.
Her feelings on that laugh currently bordered closer to indignance, because Hitori was using that lovely laugh to laugh AT HER.
“H-hey now that’s not fair! That was a really formative moment for me as a musician—which YOU’VE been encouraging by the way,” Kita cannot STAND that she can’t control her voice cracking like a child arguing with her parents when she says ‘you’ve’, “and you’re making FUN of me!”
“Not making fun, I promise!” Hitori can barely speak between gasps for breath. “I promise, I promise!”
“It sure feels like you’re making fun of me!”
Hitori looked up at Kita through the tears in her eyes and saw the way her singer’s face nearly matched the color of her hair, the way her cheeks were puffed out in indignance, and the way her legs kicked back and forth under her chair.
“Y’know,” Hitori admits as she wipes the tears from her eyes, “I think I understand why Ryo-san gets such a kick out of teasing you now.”
Oh no. No no no no no.
“Oh my God, PLEASE don’t join her!”
***
Kita’s hand squeezed the handle of her guitar case hard enough she could hear the plastic squeaking. She had been standing outside Starry for an embarrassing amount of time; mostly hoping that if she willed it into being, the door to Starry would transmogrify into a guillotine and cleave her in two the moment she stepped through the door.
I could say I got sick... food poisoning could strike at any time!
The image of Kita sitting on a toilet that had burst into flames flashed into her brain. Two years ago such a vulgar thought would have made her worry if she’d lost her mind, but after the last time Ryo and Hitori decided to gamble on festival cart food and lost she had become INTIMATELY familiar with the idea of finding humor in the disgusting. ‘When things get this bad your choices are to laugh or cry,’ Ryo-senpai had said. Now such an image was almost funny enough to raise her spirits. Almost.
After shifting from foot to foot for long enough to drill a hole through the earth into the Atlantic, she decided she would take a page out of her venerable guitar teacher’s book, and surmount this hurdle another day. She turned on her heels and went to leave.
Click. Oh dear God, not the door-
“Where are you headed off to?”
Ah. One of the greatest strengths of any good rhythm section. Timing.
Kita turned around slowly as if Ryo had a gun pointed at her. Ryo’s face held its usual deadpan expression, but Kita now knew what it meant when her right eyebrow was curled up. She was amused.
“Ah, Ryo-senpai! Actually I was just about to text you; I just got here and my stomach feels kind of funny; I think I may have to miss practice today! You wouldn’t want a singer who barfs all over our nice equipment when she tries to sing!” Kita forced a laugh that would have failed to fool a stranger. Ryo’s right brow raised a bit more.
“You’ve seen me do worse out the far nastier end. And besides, you’ve been sitting out here for an awfully long time looking a lot more like a kid who’s about to get scolded than a kid who’s about to lose her lunch.”
“Gross. Please don’t remind me,” Kita deadpanned. “And that’s... that’s... how would you have even known that?!”
Ryo smirked and silently pointed up to the top of the doorway. Kita noticed that in the place of the guillotine she had so desperately wished for there was instead a video camera. Brand new, as well.
“Wha- when did..?”
“Just last week actually,” Ryo drawled. “Something about it being a sound investment as the tickets we sell continue to grow and the clientele gets rowdier.”
Kita was pulled from her mix of shock and self-loathing by the revelation that Starry really HAD been doing quite well lately. She thinks back to about a month ago, seeing Seika crack a rare smile after doing the math on ticket sales after a Kessoku Band show. They’d actually turned around a pretty decent profit. There have been more and more nights like that lately.
“Well,” Kita couldn’t suppress her smile, “good for her.”
“Yeah, that’s the stupid dreamy grin of someone suffering from stomach troubles, alright. Get in here.” Ryo turned around and began to head back down into the club.
“Huh? But I... you...” Kita suddenly remembered what she was originally intending to be indignant about. “You were just watching the camera feed like some CREEP?”
“You were shiftily loitering outside the front door before we were open like some ‘CREEP’.” Oh, I do NOT sound like that. “It was a legitimate security concern. I did it out of worry for Starry.”
Ryo turned back around to face Kita, her face still showing its unique brand of deadpan playfulness but also a bit of... concern perhaps? Kita wasn’t sure.
“I honestly should have called the police,” Ryo continued, “But instead I’ll settle for you just coming inside.” Ryo held the door this time; beckoning Kita inside. “Now, c’mon.”
Kita hesitated.
“Relax. Breathe. You thought of me, and you played like that? How about we try-”
Kita stepped inside.
***
Ryo never muted while she was tuning. Her TU-2 always was plugged into bypass; at least during practice. With enough pushing she’d swap to output for important shows, but at this point the sound of Ryo tuning had become as much a part of Kessoku band’s live shows as the shitty banter and the sound of Hitori’s amps buzzing.
Kita could feel it vibrating the floor and the room around her like an earthquake. The deep growl of Ryo’s bass strings ringing out as they stretched and strained under the tension of Ryo forcing them to make the sounds she wanted them to make.
Kita knew better than anyone due to her accidentally trying to learn on bass first: bass strings were thick, massive things that required strength and dexterity in equal measure to master. Bass has the reputation of being “the easy instrument” in a rock band, but Kita knew better.
She’d been listening to a lot of music lately. She’d heard bands with boring, lackluster bass players. They were as boring as any band with boring, lackluster players. That’s all it took to suck the life out of something potentially great: just one member without the skill, passion, or strength to carry their weight. And the bass CARRIES weight. You could hear a band with a lackluster bass player and forget them as quickly as you heard them. But if you heard a band with a great bassist, THAT’S something you won’t forget anytime soon.
Kita feels the vibration in her chest. She pictures the shake of the earth as mud and trees careen down mountainsides due to the plates of the earth itself shifting. When the base of the earth moves and the world refuses to bend; all things above crumble and fail. When the bass of a band moves and the band refuses to bend, things are much the same.
As above, so below. Kita’s eyes vibrate as Ryo double checks her low E-string.
Ryo paints herself as the picture of a free spirit, but plays her instrument like a laborer. Calloused hands grip and bend thick metal and wood to her will, and they WILL bend. Ryo’s blue hair, calm demeanor, and carefree attitude paint an image of water; of a creek flowing over rocks through green hills. But Kita knew better than that.
Kita feels the rumble of Ryo’s bass through the soles of her feet up to the tips of every individual red hair on her head. Unignorable. Inarguable. A command. Not the gentle flow of a creek through the countryside but the demanding feeling of the earth itself commanding you to move with it, or break.
Kita and Kessoku Band were no birds. They knew an earthquake when they felt one. And they would bend, and Ryo knew it.
Thank God we have Ryo-senpai, Kita thought to herself.
Ryo finished tuning and looked expectantly at Kita. “You ready?”
Kita breathed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Ryo started to slap out a simple progression in A major. Ryo didn’t slap often, but whenever her and Hitori jammed without Nijika present it was her default.
Kita remembered Ryo telling her that Larry Graham from Sly and the Family Stone claimed to have invented slapping because his duo at the time didn’t have a drummer. Without a bass drum and snare drum he had to find a way to play the bass guitar and drums at the same time; his solution, then, was to use his thumb to hit the lower strings like a bass drum and use his index and middle finger to pluck the higher strings like a snare. Ryo also always adds that she knows there were people doing things like that before, but Larry was THE one to popularize it, and having the best story for how he got to playing that way was almost as cool as anything.
Kita remembers Ryo showing her the video of him telling the story on some talk show from back in the 70’s or something, and while Kita didn’t speak enough english to really fully understand what was going on, she couldn’t deny how COOL the interview was. Dressed head to toe in a white suit with a white bass and playing the entire time he spoke, Larry Graham was the picture of smooth. With icons like that it wasn’t hard to see how Ryo ended up the way she did.
Ryo slapped along her progression, laying the groundwork for Kita’s playing. This time there was no Hitori, no other lead instrument. Kita was the only guitarist, and she had to play the part. She cranked her volume, and once again-
“B-breathe Kita-chan. You seem to really benefit from having something visual to picture when you play! That’s not totally unheard of, a lot of people do that! D-David Gilmour plays with his eyes closed; who even knows what he’s picturing when he’s playing!”
Kita sighed. “I know; I’ve seen the videos! And you’re right, it does help me to visualise stuff but I HAVE to look at the fretboard or I’ll mess up!”
“Kita-chan, you’re worried so much about playing the right notes and THAT’S why it can’t flow. At a certain point you have to trust yourself. You know the scales, you know the notes. All that’s left is-”
Breathe. Have faith.
You worked so hard, but don’t forget. You don’t have to impress the music, it already loves you. Don’t rush, you know the movements. It's like your voice; you’re louder than you think you are if you let yourself be.
Scream, Kita. Scream. Just like early humans bellowing their will into the dark. You know your history. You have the tools, the influences. You’re as legitimate as anyone else.
Scream.
Kita stomped her foot on the RAT she borrowed from Ryo and closed her eyes.
She thinks of thunder, rains, and earthquakes, and she stumbles.
She pictures cloudy skies and darkness closing in and she worries she’ll fall, porcelain cracking on the hard concrete.
She breathes. She relaxes. The clouds part, opening wide into an infinite blue sky painting green fields in yellow light. She looks into the sun and she SOARS.
She pictures fluffy clouds lazily floating through an infinite horizon, forests of trees growing higher just in order to reach the source of the delicious life that beams from the orb in the sky. She is the sun itself. Through the sky she flies as the trees Ryo shakes from the base twist their tops to meet her warmth. Bending and swaying, seemingly dancing to the music they create. But never breaking.
You want an idea? I’ll give you one.
When you hear me you see a storm.
You make me sound so great; it’s fun!
But comparing us will not help your form.
And the shadow of your doubt must weigh a ton.
My winds cannot lift the burden for you.
But the sounds we make hold no lies, none.
When you hear me you hear storms approaching.
But when I hear you, I see the sun.
Ryo screamed one as she called for the jam to end. One cycle of the progression later they stop. Kita opens her eyes for the first time in what feels like ages. She meets Ryo’s green eyes with her own. They’re SPARKLING.
“Whoa, Ikuyo. That’s after only three months?”
Kita felt her face grow hot. “W-well, I have some excellent teachers...”
“Aww, that’s gay.”
Kita huffed. “Well, forgive ME for being sincere!”
Ryo exhaled out of her nose. Anyone versed in Ryo-ese knew that was practically her falling over in laughter. She took her bass off and set it on its stand. “Okay, I have GOT to see this playlist. I figured it’d be a bunch of stuff Bocchi, suggested but that didn’t sound ANYTHING like Bocchi. You said her dad recommended this stuff to you? Wasn’t he a big metalhead?”
“Actually, he’s more of a classic rock dude. That and alternative stuff from the 90’s.” Kita was shocked to feel like she could actually participate in one of these conversations. “He does like metal but it's mostly like old stuff like Sabbath and early Metallica I think.”
“Oh, okay, that tracks. Well, I didn’t hear any Sabbath or Metallica in what you were just doing, so fork it over.”
Kita acquiesced and handed over her phone. At this point her playlist had more than just songs on it, including some tutorials and some other bands of her choice she’d found from her algorithm suggesting them to her. Ryo thumbed through and let out a low whistle.
“Wow, this really runs the gambit. The Allman Brothers I could totally hear, the Dead I could catch too. Dino Jr, totally could hear that. Little bit of Gilmour... man, you really do like the major scale.”
Kita gave a sheepish grin. “It... sounds like the sun to me.”
Ryo nodded sagely. “Yeah, it really does. These more modern picks are really great too; The Pillows are so dope. And 171 is pretty new compared to everything else here; how’d you hear about them?”
“I got recommended their latest album. They remind me a bit of Dino but I dunno... they actually like to-”
At the same time Ryo and Kita said, “Sing.” That was another good exhale out of the nose.
Ryo went to hand Kita back her phone. Kita reached for it but after reconsidering, Ryo pulled the phone back away. Before Kita could protest she spoke.
“Actually, before I let you off the hook, I gotta know more. It's one thing if you just listened to the boomer rock Bocchi’s dad told you to, but it's another thing that you actually seemed to have sought out your own throughline of what you liked afterwards. You’re a bona-fide alt rock bitch now, Ikuyo, and I gotta know why.”
“W-what do you mean? I like it!”
“I KNOW you like it, but I wanna know why. What drew you to...” Ryo checked the playlist and scrolled a tad. “This.” Ryo held up the phone and presented Kita with a video. ‘Dinosaur Jr. – The Lung (Live on KEXP)’.
“I dunno, I just... liked it.” Kita found it very difficult to look at Ryo right now. “I’ve never had to DEFEND my music before.”
“Hey, hey, don’t picture it like that. I’m not asking you ‘cause I’m trying to judge you or anything; I’m just trying to connect the dots. I know why I like this stuff, but I wanna know why YOU do.”
Kita wondered many times during their friendship if maybe Ryo-senpai had trouble with connection. She was quite famously aloof, and Nijika-senpai seemed to be her only real close friend before the band came together? And what did Ryo, Nijika, and Bocchi all talk about? Music. And what did Ryo-senpai seem most excited to share and talk about? Music.
One of the many benefits to being so popular throughout her life was a LOT of social practice. And a big part of that is learning to read people. And Kita was a pro. That was how she’d managed to break through Hitori’s walls so effortlessly when most had failed; she knew when to stop pushing or when to push hardest to help Hitori forward. The other bandmates were no exception and right now, Ryo was trying DESPERATELY to connect with her. This was quite literally the Ryo-ese equivalent of reaching out her hand. Ryo had tried this before back when Kita mostly listened to the currently popular bubblegum pop of her choice, and Kita hadn’t the context or confidence to meet her at her level then. Ryo-senpai wanted to connect so badly she was willing to talk about music she had NEVER liked, and Kita was too self-conscious to try. But things were different now, and she intended to connect.
Kita took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Well, it’s so incredibly unique. It's just 3 people making so much noise, and every single riff and little tidbit is catchier than the last. The song feels like they wanted to try to cram every catchy idea they could into it and it works so well, and hearing J use his voice just for long enough to get to using his real voice, which to me is his guitar, just kind of... speaks to me.”
Ryo seemed like she was hanging on every word. “Do you relate to it?”
“I do. My whole life I’ve been this perfect student, athlete, and child. I wanted to make my family happy and do what seemed right. And I still like that stuff! I like makeup and social media and people! But also I’ve harbored this big fear about being left behind if I didn’t manage to keep up with all of that, and now there’s this new fear about being left behind if I keep it. If I stay all girly and popular and don’t become a cool music loving rock bitch, that I’ll be left behind.
Ryo didn’t say anything. She was totally oversharing right now.
“So, on either side of that spectrum I always just SAID the right thing. The safe thing. Used my voice to get through so I could get to the parts I like. And that’s what J does. He said that himself in an interview. He sings in order to get to the solo. And the solo is the catchiest part of that performance! It’s got catchy hook after hook after hook and he flows through everything so effortlessly like he’s SINGING and it's the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard! I wish I could play like that! I wish...” Kita found herself hesitating. Breathe.
She continued, “I wish I could speak like that. Beautiful, honest, and without fear. But I don’t know how. But I can play that way. Or at least, I can try to learn how to.”
It was awfully quiet after the confession. Kita could hear the cicadas buzzing again. What if that was too much? Hitori was happy enough to listen to her drivel on, but Ryo may not be so obliging. Imagine if Ryo thought trying to reach out to Kita would only ever result in getting an earful. Her eyes worried a hole into the nothing she was determined to stare at as her vision pinpricked before the sound of sniffling tore her from her panic. And then arms around her. Ryo-senpai was hugging her.
“That... was so beautiful. That was the most rock thing I’ve ever heard.”
Oh my God, she’s CRYING. “Ryo-senpai, I’m okay, I promise-”
Ryo hushed her. “Nuh-uh, no way. You don’t get to drop your tragic backstory on me and then act all chill about it. You’re totally getting a hug right now. Good friends and bandmates talk about their problems and hug it out, and that’s what we’re gonna do.”
Kita was no stranger to Ryo’s habit of using tears to get what she wanted, nor to her random outbursts of quite sincere, but nonetheless still deadpan tears. This felt a lot more like the latter, but she could tell Ryo was being genuine. After a moment of hesitation, she leaned into the hug. They stayed quiet like that for a moment. Ryo was the first to speak up in the end.
“I’m sorry you felt like you needed to speak carefully around us. We should’ve included you more, or at least done more to make you feel included. I had no idea.”
“It's okay, a lot of it is self-imposed, I think.” Kita exhaled into Ryo’s bicep around her head. “I looked up to all of you so much—especially YOU. You and Nijika-senpai were older, more mature, more knowledgeable. And Hitori-chan was my teacher, the one who taught me everything I know. I idolized you. But I was the one who put you on that pedestal.”
Kita sniffed back some tears. “But I appreciate you apologizing. I think... I wanna be more involved musically. I’ve learned a lot, and I really want to contribute and feel a bit more like I...I dunno, belong?”
Ryo hugged her a little tighter. “You’ve always belonged.”
It already loves you.
Kita fought the urge to tear up and nearly won. A single rouge tear trickled down her cheek and soaked into Ryo’s shirt. “Thank you, Ryo. That... that means a lot.”
After a few moments more of silence, Ryo released the embrace. She still stayed close, refusing to fully leave Kita’s side as they sat in a comfortable silence. She finally exhaled out of her nose again.
“You’ve never called me Ryo before.”
It almost felt... vulnerable? Flattered? Maybe a mix of both? If the rule is to treat others how you want to be treated, Kita supposed nobody really ever met Ryo at her level in the way she addressed people. In many ways the ways she spoke could be considered rude, but maybe Ryo did it because it felt closer.
I’m not beneath them.
“Yeah well if you’re going to be DETERMINED to call me by my first name and you’re going to be DETERMINED to pull my insecurities out from me, then you’re going to be getting the same treatment.” Kita stuck her tongue out at her.
Ryo chuckled. Oh my God, I made her laugh- “Fair enough. Well if you’re gonna be playing like THAT and helping us write then you can’t keep borrowing our stuff. We need to get you some of your own gear.”
Kita’s eyes widened and made grabby hands at her les paul jr. “W-wait, but I really like this guitar! I do want more at some point, but I still wanna use this one, if that’s okay...”
Ryo’s expression was back to its usual bored facade as she waved her hand in front of her face. “No, not that. Your pedal game is seriously lacking. You’re over here listening to guys play their hearts out on pedalboards with three gain stages as you’re saddled up with my RAT. That’s not gonna do, no way.”
Kita’s eyes sparkled. “You... You wanna go SHOPPING WITH ME?”
Ryo put a hand on Kita’s head. “Please stop with the puppy dog eyes. It's enough to make a grown woman cry. Again.”