Chapter Text
An average summer afternoon on the streets of Tokyo. Amidst the ambient noise of people and traffic, the sound of a distorted electric guitar could be faintly heard.
Street performers are a common sight, even an expected one, in this kind of busy city. Here, they can range from a solo artist covering acoustic renditions of whatever songs are popular on the radio, to a full band partaking in long jam sessions, to expertly choreographed dance routines. Against things like that, a single young woman shredding to some hard rock songs from the 80s doesn’t sound so outlandish.
Kiara Takanashi didn’t really mind that. For all she cared, she was doing this for herself. She’d be doing it even if there was no one there to see her, though the coins tossed into her guitar case from passersby were greatly appreciated.
Kiara had moved to Japan from her home country of Austria to study abroad, but her real passion lay within music. When she was younger, she dreamed of making it big as a rockstar, whose name would go down in history with the likes of Eddie Van Halen or Angus Young. Now that she was an adult, and had a better understanding of how the world works, those delusions of grandeur were far behind her.
That certainly didn’t stop her from trying, though. Whenever the redhead didn’t have a shift at her dayjob at KFC, she’d grab her trusty Gibson Firebird, go to a nice spot on the street, and just play whatever the hell she wanted.
Each time she performed out here went roughly the same as the last, but with enough different events to have their distinct place in Kiara’s memory. This time, for example, when she played the final notes of Van Halen’s “Jump”, she was greeted by the cheers of a small gathering of onlookers she didn’t even notice were there.
“That was awesome!” one of them, a blonde girl, exclaimed.
“Thank you!” Kiara said. It was surprising seeing another English speaker here, and she wasn’t used to responding that way after she did so in Japanese so many times.
“Now,” the guitarist continued, adjusting her jeans. “I’ve still got time for a few more songs, but I’ll be doing something different for this next one. It’s called ‘Hinotori’… I actually wrote it myself.”
“Whoa…” The new fan turned to her friend, a taller lady with blue and white hair.
“I dunno if we can stay, Pomu, we have places to be.” She showed her something on her phone; it looked like a to-do list, from what Kiara could tell.
“C’mon, Elira, just this one song?” the other girl pleaded. “That store doesn’t close ‘til 5 anyway.”
Her friend sighed. “If you say so.”
The fan pumped her fist in excitement. Smiling, Kiara pressed the spacebar on her laptop, and the next song began to play over the connected speaker. With that, Kiara did what she does best.
It started with a few instrumental measures, where she played a melody line over a fast rock beat in D minor. Already, Pomu was cheering her on.
After that, the first verse began. Kiara switched to palm-muted power chords, went up to the microphone, and started to sing. The lyrics were in Japanese, but that didn’t take away from her vocal skills in her fan’s eyes (or ears, rather).
“In my flickering cradle of stars… The fragments of words long lost fall into place, forming a distinct memory…”
More listeners became intrigued as the song went on, all bearing witness to the musician’s fiery singing and riffing. That remained right through the rest of the performance, culminating into an explosive guitar solo after the bridge. It’s one Kiara practiced many times, and it was sure to impress whoever heard it as they passed her by in the street.
“And in the next life too, I promise I will find you!”
As the final line was sung, and the main melody repeated one last time, another round of applause reached Kiara’s ears. And in that moment, those dreams of rock stardom seemed less far-fetched than ever.
***
“Alright, I think we nailed it this time.”
Calliope Mori unplugged her electric bass and set it down on its stand. It was a long day of rehearsals at her home studio, and she felt she needed a break. Her bandmates shared the sentiment.
She, guitarist Gawr Gura, and drummer Ina’nis Ninomae formed Mythos, the hottest new progressive/indie/alternative rock power trio on the market… at least, they hoped they’d be. They’re still trying to figure it out.
“Only took us, what, sixty takes?” Gura said with a chuckle.
“You can’t rush art,” said Ina, as she got up from her seat. “We need as much practice as we need to get this right.”
“I know, but I’m tired of doing the same three songs over and over. When are we gonna do some new stuff?”
“Those are the only three songs we’ve written to completion”, Calli said. She was at her nearby desk now, a DAW file open on her computer. “And until we can fit all these parts into something coherent, it’s gonna stay that way.”
Gura groaned. “But it doesn’t even have to be our songs! We’ve done covers before, right?” She started riffing on her blue Les Paul.
“Covers alone won’t get us a deal with Hololive Records. We’ll need a bigger portfolio than what we’ve got.”
“Guys,” Ina interjected. “I understand that this is stressful for you, but I’m sure we’ll come up with something eventually if we just stick together. It’s not like the label will stop accepting new artists anytime soon.”
“I dunno, man. It seems like we’ll never get signed if we don’t come up with new material.” Calli leaned back in her chair.
“We will. We’ve already made it this far, we just need to keep up that momentum, and sitting here moping isn’t doing anything for us. Besides, aren’t three songs better than zero?”
“I guess so,” Gura said, feeling a little better.
“That’s the spirit.” Ina put her hands together. “Like I said, you can’t rush art!”
Calli smirked at her. “You really think quoting Toy Story is gonna help our chances?”
“A little.”
“I wish I had your optimism.” She turned back to her computer.
“Gotta keep a positive mind. We have a show tomorrow, remember?”
Before long, Ina packed up her things and started heading out, leaving the other two to their work. Calli was busy managing the band’s social media, while Gura was still trying to write more riffs they could use.
As bleak as things seemed with Mythos, there was still some semblance of hope within the band. They were stuck playing at the same bar for now, but they knew this could be the start of something much bigger.
The pieces were in place. All they needed was something to put them together.