Trying to forget the horrors he and his friends endured, Yoshiki finds himself turning to his oldest pastime.
The idea of Yoshiki Kishinuma, the former delinquent (who hadn't quite shaken that reputation) being a skilled musician was inconceivable to most of the students and staff at Kisaragi High. They all thought he was just was a troubled youth with bleached-hair destined to live a meaningless life, amounting to nothing more than a dark stain on his high-profile family. In spite of such a low public-standing, music was one of the few talents Yoshiki recognised himself as having. His parents wanted their son to not just succeed at all aspects of school, but exceed, throwing instruments, sports, books and tutors at him since a young age. They were sorely disappointed when he grew to be a student who barely applied himself and had no particular interest in most activities they forced on him, preferring instead to play musical instruments, play video games and get into fights. He wasn't the worst student, getting a C average in most subjects, but it was far off from the high-performing son they always wanted.
So, after months of arguing and late-night fights with his parents, he was unceremoniously kicked out, his only parental contact reduced to a monthly cheque for a measly 10,000 Yen. Frankly, Yoshiki was fine with never seeing them again. He could admit that he wasn't their dream son, but they weren't even good parents, let alone his dream parents. As far as he was concerned, his only family was his sister Miki, of whom he always went to great lengths to see at least weekly.
Despite such setbacks, life went on for Yoshiki Kishinuma. He (barely) stayed in school, found a cheap apartment and worked an assortment of jobs before settling into a job at a music shop, selling instruments, records and providing lessons into the night. Staying open late was an unconventional business strategy, but it allowed Yoshiki to work longer shifts and to play with instruments he couldn't afford, so he couldn't complain. To Yoshiki, it was the best job he could ask for.
Music was important to Yoshiki Kishinuma. It reminded him of his long-lost relationship with his parents, provided a means for him to have a roof over his head and was his secret hobby. And after that fateful, rainy day, it also became a way to escape the horrors he experienced and continued to endure.
Only two days after escaping the hellish nightmare of Heavenly Host, Yoshiki found himself outside the Kisaragi music room. He needed a distraction, something to make him stop thinking, and he could only think of music as a solution. The music teachers were hesitant at first, letting the 'Troubled Student' into the music rooms after school hours. But after seeing the empty gaze his eyes cast, and the way the bags under his eyes made him look 10 years older, they found they couldn't say no.
"Only for an hour, Kishinuma" the music head barked at him. "And if anything's damaged, YOU pay for it, no matter the cost. Got it?" Yoshiki agreed to these terms and thanked the teacher, before grabbing a guitar and an amp. Normally, he would curse the teacher as he left, but he didn't have it in him anymore. Instead, he quickly tuned the battered guitar and began plucking away. Gentle melodies and lush harmonics began to fill the room, occupying the space in his mind now colluded with unruly memories. The warmth of the music enveloped him, his chest feeling lighter for the first time since Heavenly Host. He remained in this trance, only looking up from the guitar when the music head was ordered him to pack up and leave. He begrudgingly obliged, putting away the guitar quietly and thanking the teacher as he left, feeling the best he had since returning.
Over the next month, this became a bi-weekly tradition for Yoshiki. A music teacher would let him in, he'd play for an hour before leaving to work or to return to his empty apartment. The more he played, the less the music department warned him of damaging equipment. For the first time in his student career, it seemed teachers other than Ms Yui trusted him to do the right thing. Once upon a time he would have cared. Now, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything by it.
The day after Ayumi Shinozaki's big meltdown, Yoshiki found himself needing to play. He didn't have work in the evening, and Ayumi insisted that she was fine and had plans with her sister, Hinoe. Without nothing to interrupt him, he made his way to the music room.
Even after the torrential storm yesterday, the sky was still not done, with rain continuing to stream down, streaking the ground below. As a kid, Yoshiki would play in the rain with Miki, before being scolded by his parents for being so reckless. Now, he found no nostalgia in rain, only repressed memories of indeterminable horror and cruelty.
His fingers twitched, and his vision blurred. He started to play.
Yoshiki's mind started to wander astray from his playing, focussing instead on Shinozaki's meltdown yesterday. Yoshiki was ready to help Shinozaki whenever she needed it, offering to comfort her even in the middle of the night.
But he couldn't help but feel guilty.
Guilty for the circumstances that closed the distance between them, and guilty for his lingering pain and anxieties from Heavenly Host. He knew he was lying every time he told her he was okay, that he was moving on one step at a time, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it to her. He had to be strong, had to be a pillar for her. As far as Yoshiki saw it, he couldn't bring himself to worry Ayumi with his problems.
A wrong note twanged, sharp.
Deep down, however, he knew he was just bottling these memories, leaving them repressed and volatile, a powdered keg ready to blow at any given moment. He started leaving night-lights on in every room of his apartment, nervously checking every corner before going to bed for a few hours of restless sleep.
A chord fell flat, thudding off the walls.
His dreams were filled with blood, fear grasping deeply into his every microfibre upon awakening. Sometimes he saw corpses, begging for him to come join them. Other times he saw his own dead body, mutilated into agonising positions. But most of all he saw Ayumi in danger, from the hundreds of tortured spirits mincing her into a pile of meaty bile; to the blood-stained eyes of Yoshikazu Yangihori peering over her, ready to pounce with his oversized sledgehammer. Worst of all, he would rip hear apart, possessed and savaged, the smell of blood and flesh lingering around him when he woke up. No matter the scenario, he was always powerless to save her.
Yoshiki's hand slipped off the fret board, sweaty.
But he made no effort to lift his hand back to the guitar.
He couldn't focus. He was paralysed, frozen in fear and discomfort. For the first time in his life, music was failing him. He could feel his petrified mind and body slipping deeper and deeper into the cavernous depths of Heavenly Host. Unable to call for help or prevent it, his body tightened, and Yoshiki could feel his consciousness beginning to wane, colour dripping from his sight. He was transforming into a husk, a shell of his confident, blunt self.
And he was doing nothing to stop it.
The door opened. The blonde head dragged its attention to the door, eyes unseeing, out-of-focus and unresponsive. The husk had no way of telling who had entered the room, and whether or not they meant harm.
But the sound of their voice, a piercing melody to the husk, penetrated the deep shadow, awakening the boy inside the cocoon.
"Don't stop playing, please."
His eyes began to focus. He could make out the outline of a high school girl of small stature with pigtails.
After much effort, he managed to stumble out a quiet response. "Shin-ozaki?"
"I know it's important for you to be here." Her voice was gentle, calm, soothing. He could feel a layer of pain melt away with every syllable. "And I'm sorry you can't talk to me about your problems. So please, keep playing Kishinuma." Ayumi's voice was shaky, but remained strong, determined to free Yoshiki.
"How did you know I was here?" he croaked out, slowly steadying himself, gaining more composure. "I thought you had plans?"
"I've been sitting outside every day you've been here" she replied smoothly, a smile on her face. "It's just as important for me to listen as it is for you to play, Kishinuma."
And that was it. That final sentence was the music Yoshiki needed to hear. As she sat against the far wall, Yoshiki readied his shaking hands against the fretboard, stretching his clawed fingers out in the shape of chords.
"Yeah. I'll keep playing." Although his voice was still soft, Yoshiki found his body loosening, more and more warmth returning to him. Colour filtered into his blurred vision, and he could make out Ayumi's blue pigtails and clear skin. "Thank you, Shinozaki."
Ayumi smiled sweetly. "Good. I look forward to it."
Yoshiki started slow, playing simple major chords with simple rhythms. But as he regained more and more composure, the blonde's confidence began to return. His music grew strong, his melodies enchanting. His mind was focussed purely on the music he was creating, the complex sounds encasing the room with passion. And-
The door opened. The Music Head had entered the room, seeming almost apologetic for stopping Yoshiki's playing. "Time to leave, Kishinuma. We're done for the day."
The Music Head began to leave, but stopped himself. "Kishinuma?" Yoshiki faced him, ready to be reprimanded. "Perhaps for being alone with Shinozaki" he thought, not surprised by the head's low opinion of him.
But what the Music Head said surprised the blonde. He spoke calmly, with conviction and sincerity. "You're a talented musician. The music staff and I all enjoy listening to you play." He left the room, leaving Yoshiki surprised by the turn-of-events. It was the first time a teacher other than Ms Yui had complimented him. It felt….odd. Not bad, but just different.
Storing the memory, Yoshiki turned to face Ayumi, only to find her fast asleep against the wall. Yoshiki began to gently shake her in an attempt to wake her up. "Hey, Shinozaki. We gotta go now." Yoshiki spoke easily, his voice no longer trembling. "Mmmm…I'll just…wait" Ayumi mumbled, remaining asleep, her breathing steady.
Yoshiki sighed, closing his eyes in thought. "She must be seriously sleep deprived if I can't even wake her up." Deciding to talk to Ayumi about this later, he settled on a course of action to get her home.
"Shinozaki really doesn't weight much." Carrying her on her back, Yoshiki decided he'd also discuss later if she's been eating enough. "Not that I can blame her. Eating's been much harder since coming back." Yoshiki found his food options limited since Heavenly Host, finding meaty, smelly or umami-rich foods to be overly-reminiscent of human flesh. He supposed it was the same for Shinozaki and the rest of his friends.
With her gentle breath on his back, Yoshiki began to walk her home, the rain drizzling down on the two of them. Perhaps in the past the mere idea of doing this would embarrass him, let alone someone seeing him. But now, all he cared about was making sure Ayumi Shinozaki would get home safe. "After all," he thought. "She'd do the same for me."
AN: Corpse Party never went very deep into the lives of their characters. So I was like Hey why not focus on the few tidbits we know about Yoshiki? In this case, mainly his supposed love of music and his absent, affluent family.