A band fractures right when they're supposed to break through, and the vocalist is left digging through memories of an absent father instead of fighting to save the group. The music cuts through the noise of their collapse, each song lands harder because you know why they're falling apart. You're watching five people fail to stay together while one of them finally understands why he needed them in the first place.
GYROAXIA has built something real in Sapporo. Five musicians, one unified sound, and the dream of making it in Tokyo. But dreams have a way of fracturing under pressure. As the band moves toward the capital, internal tensions mount until they shatter completely. Rumors circulate online that they're finished. The members scatter, each one retreating into their own corner. Vocalist Nayuta Asahi finds himself haunted by fragments of memory from his childhood and the years he spent with his father, Koga Iryuu, who abandoned him. Amid the turmoil, Nayuta searches for the reason he cannot stop making music or let go of the band. The result is a music film about creative partnership and the pull of the past.
