Chapter Text
[ATTENTION: FILMMAKER WANTED!]
Kessoku Band, an up-and-coming rock unit band based in Shimokitazawa’s live house STARRY is filming their first music video!
If you have experience in filmmaking and/or video editing and would be interested, please contact Nijika Ijichi after school!
“Kessoku Band…” he mumbled faintly to himself, staring at the flyer on the wall as the school day neared its end. “...maybe.”
Eizo Hiraki was hard to describe as a typical person, but in terms of Shimokitazawa High, he fit fairly well. With its academic pressures and a deficit in the market of those “community-building” social events, he could remain fairly distant. He held an officer’s position in the school’s niche filmmaking club, broadcasting the school’s announcements, even creating independent films of his own design. It was a rare reprieve from the monotony and stress of schoolwork. As such, the description described in that flyer seemed like a spot that would fit well for him.
“Nijika.” The name rang a bell too—she was in his social studies class, wasn’t she? Kind, accommodating, popular, the type of girl who could gather a group project and excel through organized cooperation. A natural leader, even if she didn’t look the part. And that band she was a part of—Kessoku Band—he’d definitely heard of it. That one clip from a little while ago of their guitarist belly-diving off stage was pretty brutal, after all. But in full honesty, they were a genuine band, and their collective talent deserved the respect they’d gathered, a resonating tactility ringing out in every measure of their songs.
Eizo hissed through his teeth in thought, brushing through the dark strands of his hair highlighted by a streak of green. This would be commitment. The hallway’s distant conversations echo by, leaving him still and staring hazily at the poster. How would he even film a music video in the first place? Would he even be enough? What to plan? Where to film? Who to rely on? He clutched the side of his sweatshirt, taking a deep breath and deliberating.
But something inside him lurched for this. A reprieve was a reprieve, and a job was a job. And plus, the prospect of getting paid for working with a band like this was a rare opportunity. He tore off the page from the wall, pacing through the halls towards the AV room. Stumbling past the walls lined with computers, he opened the door to the teacher’s office, asking to sign out a camera. And with a notice to be careful after a brief discussion of the situation, he left, a camera bag strung around his shoulder with a sigh of relief.
…
“N-Nijika?”
Before he knew it, he found himself standing on the pavement outside the high school, the bag strapped with a streak of yellow still grasped by his side. Last period must have gone by fast. The girl’s bright vermillion eyes shift backwards at the sudden call of her name, a curious smile lining her features that caught Eizo’s attention.
“Ah! Hiraki-san? What’s going on?”
“How’d she remember?” he thought, hesitating as his muscles tensed. He hadn’t recalled her name until it was pointed out on that paper. No going back now. He fumbled for his pocket, unfolding the flyer, presenting it to her gaze and taking a sharp breath in.
“I… I’d like to sign…” Eizo barely got halfway through his sentence before a drawn-out gasp escaped the drummer, her fists clenched excitedly in front of her chest.
“That’s great! So, how good are you at filming?”
“I’m… well, I’m alright, I guess,” he replied, his head tilting to the side and humming to himself in thought. “...You’ve probably seen a couple of my commercials.”
Nijika’s smile faltered slightly. Not that she wasn’t glad, but that Eizo’s awkward demeanor gave her a sharp sense of deja vu.
“Mm, well, I’m sure you’ll do great.”
“Where’s Starry, exactly?” Eizo asked, causing Nijika to clear her throat.
“Right, right! I’ll lead you there!” her voice perked up, quickly wiping off that uncertain expression with her signature bright smile, grasping his hand and pulling him along for the journey.
His eyes widened as his hand was pulled, leading him out of the school’s grounds and towards the club. Her strides were even and steady, Eizo walking slowly behind her as he mused. Nijika’s hand quickly slipped away, delicate fingers releasing their grip. He held his hands in the pockets of the jacket strewn over his uniform, his heart picking up the faintest bit as the two walked across the modern, familiar brand-lined streets of Shimokitazawa.
His nose picked up a small waft of perfume. Even down to her scent, Nijika was pleasant too, another detail that piled onto her lively, popular persona.
“You didn’t mind that I dragged you along like that, Eizo?” Nijika asked, her head turning to meet his pupils, snatching Eizo out of his zoned out state.
“Huh? No, no, it’s fine. I signed up anyway,” he mumbled. “What do you mean, dragged?”
“Ah, well, I kinda pulled your hand without you asking, and I’m not sure if I gave you enough info to fully think about it, but we really do need someone to film, so it’s nice this worked out!”
How… courteous. Sickeningly courteous. Enough to stir up pathetic emotions in his gut of how nice she was being to him—practically unprompted.
“T-that’s… no, it’s fine. Thank you.”
“Good, good! Well, Starry’s a great place. My big sis is the manager, and I’ve been working there part-time, too. You don’t really need to mind her all that much.”
“Right.”
His own curt response felt a little rude to him, but after that tiring school day, he’d much rather be conversationally bridal-carried rather than wasting more energy that could be spent filming. Nijika’s gaze shifted curiously to the camera cradled in his arms, but noticing her concern he shook his head, muttering to himself that he was fine and that they should “talk about it when they get there,” a response mostly lost to the background noise.
Eventually, they arrived at those fateful stone steps leading down into shaded ground, illuminated by a flickering neon sign. Nijika pranced down, Eizo following carefully behind as they descended into darkness and towards her haven. Despite the sense of deja vu she felt when she first invited Hitori, Eizo was a couple steps better socially, not exactly sub-water-flea. But even so, that girl was invaluable to Kessoku Band’s success, so hopefully history would repeat itself.
The door swung open, immediately brushed with the dark, stuffy air. Yet, this faint unpleasantness was familiar, almost a comforting feeling of things not being fully professional, like the backstage of a theater. Eizo peered past Nijika as she paced ahead towards a table. A voice, somehow even more peppy than Nijika's, rang out.
“Ah, Ijichi-senpai! Is she here?”
“Mhm! Alright, come out!” Nijika replied, gesturing towards the steps.
“Is everyone in this band this upbeat? Man, I must really not fit in… wait, did that girl call me a “she?” Eizo took a deep breath as he thought to himself in curiosity. He quickly sauntered to the table and prepared himself as he stepped in front.
“Ta-da! Our new cameraman, Eizo-kun!” Nijika’s arms outstretched towards him in presentation, her lively expression slowly fading into disappointment at Kessoku Band’s reactions. Ryo was completely unfazed, Kita’s expression hitched in shock, a mix of embarassment and confusion at her misunderstanding, and Bocchi… was AWOL, apparently.
“Bocchi is over there,” Ryo was the one to snitch, pointing under a table. As Nijika’s eyes wandered, they met the sight of a shaking, terrified pink mass, hugging her legs and hidden under a chair.
“I guess not,” he realized, as Bocchi’s hands clutched her kneecaps, her bright pink pupils slowly and anxiously opening. God, she was worse than him. It was almost endearing to see.
“Kita Ikuyo, vocalist and guitarist!” Kita started off the introductions abruptly, her expression brightening as her extrovert aura began to flicker back to life.
‘Ryo Yamada, bassist,'' Ryo muttered, a deep, monotone voice that matched the strumming of her bass, leaning back in her chair. In his peripheral vision, Kita held back a squeal through pursed lips. Old habits die hard, supposedly.
“Nijika Ijichi, the drummer!” Nijika reintroduced herself, it was only courtesy. An awkward pause formed, all eyes shifting to Bocchi, slowly crawling out of her hiding place, clutching the edge of a chair and mumbling.
“H-Hitori Gotoh… l-lead guitarist.”
“It’s… nice to meet you all. I’m Eizo Hiraki. Nijika told you guys about me, right?” Eizo asked, being met with a nod from Ryo as he sat down, his hands tightening together. Bocchi’s anxious demeanor lessened the feeling of inferiority that purged through his air. Across the room, he suddenly felt a piercing sensation in his shoulder. As his head turned, it was met with a glaring, mistrustful gaze from an older woman, her dark orange eyes sizing up his motions and bringing that assessment right back.
“A-Ah! That’s my big sis, Seika. Like I said, don’t really worry about her!” Nijika interrupted, intersecting the line of sight of the two.”
“Really? You could’ve gotten anyone else,” Seika snarled, brushing a hand through her lengthy blonde locks.
“He’s fine! C’mon, I promise. I’m sure he’s a great filmmaker,” Nijika assured, slightly ignorant of the implication at hand, met with a scoff from her older sibling.
Afterwards, the band’s gazes rolled over to Kita, her lips sealed uncomfortably in a permanent smile and blinking a bit too quickly. Ryo nudged her shoulder with an expectant gaze, and like an old TV she sprung back to life.
”A-ah! Well, I run Kessoku Band’s Isstagram, and I’ve made a good few video posts too! I’ll be sure to share the video we make around! And I know some good filming spots, too!”
”And run ads on our Ohtube upload of it, of course,” Ryo added, her flat expression not budging in the slightest.
“Sounds like a plan,” Eizo replied, his hands tracing along the scratches of the dark laminate countertop.
“Okay then!” Kita suddenly asserted, lifting from her seat with a passionate demeanor and slamming her palms down on the table. A bright smile shimmered across her face, scarlet hair waving from the strong breeze of her outgoing excitement. Of course, as the social media virtuoso she was, this was familiar ground. Her finger pierced high above her head in declaration.
"Now, Hiraki-san, it’s been decided already! The production of Guitar, Loneliness and Blue Planet’s music video has now begun!” The others followed suit, the optimism in the air too strong for Eizo to bring up concerns of ideas, filming locations, or even the fact his camera wasn’t set up yet.
Worst of all, Eizo was left with a harrowing thought.
“Damn it, they’re all kind of cute…”