Shibuya Street Rock and Yokohama Fashion Wars
Japan trip. Steve Vai. One of the guitarists Japanese people adore, nicknamed the "Man Who Makes Love to His Guitar." His peak-era masterpiece, Tender Surrender. Any Japanese rock fan has heard it at least once. Even if not, the spirit of "loving technical, shredding guitarists" ingrained in every Japanese soul drew applause from the crowd for Group Sound's performance.
It wasn't wild cheers—more like reverent acclaim, laced with awe.
"Thank you."
The guitarist's pronunciation clearly screamed "I'm not Japanese," amplifying the applause. She looked Korean at a glance. A Korean eyeing K-pop dominance, now busking rock in Japan? Wasn't that the ultimate respect?
"Whoa... incredible."
"Sorry, can I take a photo? Ah, you don't understand... picture, picture~."
"OK, OK. Feel free to snap a photo."
"She's a high school girl?"
People buzzed about the mysterious high school girl band, keeping a polite distance. Ignoring them, the girls huddled, whispering, then started setting up. Just as it dragged on too long, a sound grabbed the crowd's attention...
And a familiar anime-style tune began to play.
"Seishun Complex?"
Classic J-rock. Lyrics about youth's complexes, in Japanese, stirring the audience even more. An unknown Korean band busking Japanese-style rock in Japan? And nailing it? How could anyone not react?
If the roles were reversed, the internet would explode: "Japan finally recognizes Korean music!" "That girl band visual is insane!"
Flawless performance. The guitar from earlier, sparking like wildfire, now dominated the vibe—follow its lead, and you're golden. But unlike before, it blended seamlessly with the band. As if saying, "I can do this too."
The finale: a choral swell, then a crisp, concise end. Cheers erupted again. The first applause was amazement; this was pure joy and fun.
Bowing to the thunderous ovation, the band drew even bigger reactions.
"Um... etto... ne... W-we are..."
The keyboardist, fidgeting shyly, spoke up. Her slightly glamorous look clashed with her huddled cuteness.
"So cute~," "Super cute!" "Dangerous!" Dumbstruck exclamations flew.
She flinched at each but giggled softly.
"Unnie, your pretty face can wait—talk first."
"Ah, uh... S-sorry... We are the band Group Sound. From Korea, and we've been debuted for less than a year..."
The bassist prompted her, and the keyboardist spilled their bio—shocking the crowd.
Debuted less than a year ago. Won an audition in Korea, hit the 24-hour chart...
"Guitar, 'Ha Suyeon.' Bass, 'Choi Iseo.' Keyboard, me... 'Jeong Hyeona.' Drums, 'Yoo Seoha.' Nice to meet you again... We are the band, Group Sound..!"
Enthusiastic applause for the intros. New rock band hype, Korean pride, pure cheers—layers of meaning.
Shining in the shortest girl-band Budokan live: Japanese fave SILENT SIREN. Next up: their hits "August no Yoru" and "Cherry Bomb."
Crowd went wild for the quintessential girl-band anthems of youth and love. Sure, it was just a Shibuya corner—busy street, no reason to cluster. But passersby stopped, drawn by the song, swelling the mob. Curious onlookers peeked, becoming fans themselves.
For them, the band unveiled their original: [Ashen Days].
A youth anthem Japanese fans obsess over.
"The homework I didn't do, a turtle in my locker..."
Sung in Korean, proving their roots. J-rock influenced, sure—but even skeptics couldn't dismiss it: "Japan's the rock capital; they copied it well."
This track forced submission. Youth's edge: nostalgia that didn't exist, even for J-rock's homeland. Eyes closed, heads bowed, skies gazed at—subtle silk-mist emotions seeped in.
Until noise shattered it.
"Hey, what's this? Disperse, disperse. Students, why busk here? Got permits?"
Cops appeared, shoving folks aside, casually ordering dispersal—routine patrol.
"Ah, got it. We'll pack our gear..."
"Yeah. No permit, right? You kids from that music shop? Saw you hog spots. Keep it up and..."
"Hey, we gotta eat too..."
The shop clerk bantered familiarly, calming things, telling the band to wrap up.
But the mood exploded—from the crowd.
"Dude! People are listening—asshole! Let 'em finish one song! What're you on tax for?!"
Sentiments stirred, now disrupted—rough voices roared agreement.
"Yeah! They're killing it!"
"One song, c'mon!"
"No choice, huh..."
"Hearts exist, y'know!"
"What the hell! Disperse!"
Cops' words fueled the fury.
"Beat 'em!" "Let us hear one!" "Fucking beast! Got ears?!"
Harsh words escalated; cops panicked, unprepared.
"Fine! One more song!"
Surrender. Cheers boomed; band laughed helplessly, prepping again.
After the chaos.
"That was Group Sound! Thank you! And thanks to ... Music Shop for supporting this busk! All our gear's from here! Awesome! Find us on Ochanomizu Street! Love us lots!"
Pre-translated spiel drew roaring laughs and claps. The stunned clerk bowed 90 degrees furiously.
But that was yesterday. Today: today's plans.
Not tough or tiring... but Myeongjeon found it exhausting.
"Unnie suits this."
"W-well..."
"Nah, doesn't fit her."
Over ten minutes of bickering—who wouldn't tire?
He sighed on the sofa.
"Tough?"
"Not really... just wondering when it ends. Can't we just throw on anything?"
To Hyein's question, Myeongjeon eyed the trio wearily.
How many minutes now?
Post-Shibuya, they hit Yokohama—port city near Tokyo, scenic nights over shopping. Yet the other four, sans Myeongjeon, shopped again.
Women gonna woman... wait, me too now.
He watched the arguing trio.
What sparked this?
Sightseeing Minatomirai, Iseo spotted a thrift shop: "Let's check it!" Dragged in, goal became [Thrift full-set for five!]—Iseo's decree.
Smooth sailing... until Hyeona's turn.
"It suits you."
"No, earlier... too flashy... y'know..."
"Flashy can work. Clothes are for attention."
"Not for me..."
"Attention yeah, but not this. Doesn't suit Hyeona."
Hyeona uninterested; Iseo and Seoha bloodied over her.
Fashion duel—intense.
"Unnie's warm tones, puppy face? Loose-fit cute vibe. Long sleeves, baggy."
Iseo waved a vintage-clean white shirt.
"Roll sleeves—active feel! Matches skin perfect!"
Hyeona flinched.
Seoha countered opposite.
"Nah, doesn't fit. Hyeona needs bold patterns over plain. Accessories too. That face."
"But I..."
"No! Weird patterns ruin elegant face."
"Flowers bloom with buds—go bold!"
"Listen to me..."
Heat rising. Smiling Hyein, fired-up duo, silenced Hyeona. Baffled Myeongjeon, distressed shopkeep.
"~So patterns hide in dark? Blends perfect."
"...Girl, your menhera accessories—outdated. How long?"
Debate ignited: fashion roasts, escalating flames.
"You two, fight outside."
Myeongjeon thought, shoving the growling pair: Music rivals never fought—fashion? Absurd.
This: spark of Group Sound's endless "fashion wars."