He had just grasped the basic composition of the band. Beyond the usual guitar, bass, and drums, a keyboard could also be included. It intrigued him—why didn't most ending themes in anime bands use one?
From what he'd read, the keyboard could simulate a wide range of instruments, even replicate certain effects others couldn't. While it couldn't replace an entire band, it was certainly a powerful tool.
Zeta found himself getting interested.
He'd just go ask after school. See if they'd accept someone with no experience.
Besides, wasn't there already a member who couldn't tell a bass from a guitar?
That gave him some hope.
He wasn't that clueless. Even if guitars and basses looked similar, he could definitely tell them apart.
Because—
He would just ask the store clerk.
Soon, the school bell rang. The first day of high school ended.
Students naturally grouped together with people who shared their vibe. They laughed, made plans, and headed toward cafes, karaoke, or arcades. Within the swarm of energy and youth, one student remained untouched.
No one had dared to speak to Zeta. The boy who proudly declared himself a pervert.
Just as planned.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to Shimokitazawa. The goal: to find the band members of Kessoku Band.
"Zeta-kun, could you come to the faculty office for a moment?"
His homeroom teacher, standing awkwardly at the classroom door, waved him over with the kind of forced smile that screamed exhaustion.
Zeta walked over without urgency.
"Apologies, sensei. I've got something I need to do right now. If it's important, can we talk during tomorrow's lunch break?"
His tone was polite, but there was no real emotion behind it. His eyes were calm, completely unfazed.
"Ah... no problem."
The teacher deflated and scurried off.
Zeta watched him go, mentally noting the man's name—Yu Ishida. Still new to teaching.
The streets of Shimokitazawa were bursting with personality—vintage shops, old-school coffee bars, thrift stores. But what stood out most to Zeta were the artists.
Guitars on their backs. Stickers on their cases. Hair dyed in every possible shade.
Music was alive here.
And so were girls.
He nearly bit his tongue to stop his own impulses.
Hold it together, Zeta. You're about to meet some real-life band girls. Don't let the pervert leak out now.
Just gotta get through this alley… walk past that wall…
Then you're there.
He'd already mapped it out. The place was called Starry. A livehouse with five or six years of history, known for its great acoustics and cozy, underground atmosphere. Highly rated. Well-loved.
He stepped out of the alley, turned a corner, and there it was. A sunken staircase leading down beneath a tall building.
He didn't descend yet. The place officially opened at 5 PM, and it was only just past 4.
Instead, he leaned against a wall nearby, scrolled through band-related forums on his phone, and waited.
The early spring breeze carried faint guitar riffs and the laughter of teens enjoying the last hour of daylight.
Then, he noticed her.
Blonde hair. Crimson eyes. Black base shirt, striped pants. She passed without much of a glance, cool and silent, and descended the steps to Starry.
Not long after—
"I'll ask my sister to put up the flyers later. I'm excited to see who joins."
"Yeah. Someone interesting would be nice."
Zeta looked up.
There she was. A bright-eyed blonde girl, clutching a stack of flyers. Beside her stood another girl, blue-shouldered hair cut to the neck, sharp gaze, tomboyish.
Interesting, huh?
Zeta smirked.
There's no bigger oddball than me.
My youth begins here.
He straightened up, gave himself a little pat, and walked toward the girls.
"Hey. I overheard you. Are you looking to recruit?"
But halfway through, he realized they hadn't said anything about recruiting. His eyes dropped to the bass strapped to the short-haired girl's back. Quick save.
"Recruiting band members?"
"So fast!"
Ijichi Nijika nearly jumped. They hadn't even put up the flyers yet.
She looked to Yamada Ryo. Ryo met Zeta's gaze, expression unreadable.
"Guitarist?"
Zeta shook his head, smiling.
"Actually, I'm a complete beginner. I want to learn keyboard. Thought joining a band might be the best way to absorb the atmosphere."
"Keyboard… That's rough if you're starting from zero."
Ryo's words weren't harsh, but she wasn't sugarcoating it either.
Still, she didn't reject him.
Seeing Ryo wasn't opposed, Nijika smiled and gently clapped her hands.
"Well, don't just stand there. Let's go inside and talk."
***
The space was tight, but filled with life.
Posters of past gigs, hand-drawn art, string lights, and stickers covered every wall of Starry's basement. It was a beautiful chaos, and it screamed authenticity.
Zeta's eyes wandered, trying to soak in every detail.
The underground venue was dim, warm, and intimate. Like a hideout for the misunderstood.
Behind the counter, the woman from earlier—likely Nijika's sister, glanced at him with quiet curiosity.
"Relax. This is my sister's place," Nijika said cheerfully.
She could tell right away that Zeta was a complete amateur, but her smile didn't change.
Easy for you to say relax, Zeta thought. I already wanna run around this place screaming.
As they descended the stairs, Nijika waved casually to her sister behind the bar.
"Nee-san, hold off on cleaning for a sec."
"Mm."
Ijichi Seika answered without looking up, wiping the counter with practiced rhythm. But her eyes kept drifting toward Zeta.
The three sat down at a small table tucked in the corner.
Yamada Ryo sat in silence, arms folded. Zeta tried to think of how to seem a little less insane.
The atmosphere was beginning to suffocate.
Until Nijika broke through it like sunshine.
"Let's start with introductions. I'm Ijichi Nijika, second year at Shimokitazawa High. I play drums. She's—"
"Yamada Ryo. Same year. Bass."
Then came Zeta's turn.
Facing two undeniably attractive girls, he remained calm.
"I'm Zeta, first year at Shuka High."
"What made you want to join a band, Zeta?" Nijika asked naturally, already using his name like a friend would.
15% emotional damage.
He had never met someone so friendly, so kind, and so beautiful, all at once.
But his voice remained level.
"I want to make music that helps people unwind. That makes them feel seen. Something they can relax to, together."
Ryo's eyes flicked up. Her posture shifted. Now she was paying attention.
"That's an easy thing to say. But it's a hard path. Are you serious?"
"I am."
Zeta took out his phone and pulled up his notes.
"My sister's great at piano. I plan to learn from her. I've already saved some learning resources, picked out some books, and chosen a synthesizer."
He turned the screen toward them.
"The Prophet XL. It's good for self-taught learners."
They stared at the price.
More than a million yen in total.
Nijika blinked.
"Wait… are you rich?"
Zeta laughed awkwardly, scratching his cheek.
"Not really. I wrote novels for a while, earned some cash. Borrowed the rest from my folks."
He looked up with a small sigh.
"Means I'll be broke for a while, though."
Probably the most pathetic transmigrator to ever exist.
"But I'm serious about this. I believe in investing in gear that lasts and lets me grow into it. And not to brag, but I pick things up fast."
He wasn't lying. Ever since waking up in this world, his mind felt sharper, his memory near-photographic. If he hadn't been chasing freedom, he'd be in the elite class by now.
"I see." Ryo nodded, then leaned forward slightly, her tone softening.
"Used textbooks are cheaper from second-hand shops. Instruments too. Look around specialty stores."
"Thanks. It's good I found the band first."
Zeta looked a little embarrassed.
"But… I don't know where those places are. Addresses, maps…"
Nijika stood up immediately, her tone bright and confident.
"Then Ryo and I will take you there."
###
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