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When Setsuna took over the drums

When Setsuna took over the drums AI art by TB76 Returns on PixAI. Tags: Setsuna Yuki, Coco Hayashi, Nagasaki Soyo, Rana Kaname. Made with Tsubaki.3.

She was with MyGO!!!!! instead playing the drums in kind of a wild fashion, a bit of a reference to Coco Hayashi having to take Taki instead of Setsuna on that day of the LoveLive! Series 15th Anniversary Love Live! Fest

Published on Nov 14, 2026

TB76 Returns

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character: kaname_raana, nagasaki_soyo, chihaya_anon, takamatsu_tomori, yuki_setsuna 5 girls, idol band, performing outfit, live stage, drum kit, drumsticks, playing drums, playing instrument, wild motion, happy expression, open mouth, grin, guitar, microphone, bass guitar, confused expression, stoic expression, worried expression, looking at another, band dynamic, from below, wide shot, group shot, dutch angle, stage lighting, concert, motion blur on drumsticks, loose strands of hair, sweat, dynamic pose, foreshortening Camera looks up from the front edge of the stage in a wide group shot tilted a few degrees off level, so the five players arrange themselves on a shallow diagonal that steps back toward a wall of dark speaker cabinets and a single overhead truss of lights. Behind them the stage backs onto blackness. Downstage center-left, a black-and-chrome drum kit, its bass drum skin carrying a band logo too dark and scuffed to read, cymbal stands staggered at chest height. Seated behind it on the throne is a girl with long black hair cut with a striking blue lower half, the strands lifting and flying sideways off her shoulders; grey eyes wide and bright; she is mid-strike, torso twisted right, left arm flung high so the stick is a smear of blurred motion and the right stick is coming down onto the snare, and her mouth is open in a full delighted shout of a grin. Her performing outfit is a fitted short-sleeved white shirt and a pleated miniskirt cut for movement, dark gloves on both hands closing around each stick's grip, thighs braced wide, one sneaker's toe pressing the hi-hat pedal, the other foot planted flat. A drop of sweat is leaving her jaw. Downstage right, at the group's other point, a girl with long pink hair and a visible small fang stands with her guitar held low across her hips on a wide cream strap, both hands on the neck and body but gone slack, her grey eyes cut hard sideways back toward the drummer, brows pinched, mouth pulled into a small baffled frown, one shoulder hitched up. Just beside and slightly behind her, a girl with short white hair and mismatched blue and yellow eyes stands perfectly square, chin level, her guitar held vertical against her body with one hand closed around the neck, expression utterly flat, gaze aimed at nothing in particular past her bandmates. Tomori, short grey hair, brown eyes, is turned three-quarters away from the lens toward Soyo at stage right: her microphone is gripped in both fists against her chest as though it were something breakable, her head tipped down and toward the other girl, brow drawn into an anxious knot, mouth slightly parted mid-breath. Soyo, long brown hair with heavy sidelocks framing her cheeks, blue eyes, stands under her bass guitar with the neck angled up across her torso, fingers still curled on the strings; her chin is dipped and her eyes come back up to meet Tomori's, calm and steady. The five performing outfits are cut in the same idol-rock idiom without being uniforms: white shirts, short jackets, pleated skirts and stage boots, trimmed in black and silver, every sleeve rolled or pushed to the elbow for playing. Hair and fabric are all moving in the warm updraft off the stage monitors: Tomori's grey fringe across her eyes, Soyo's sidelocks swung forward, the hem of Anon's skirt slapping at her thigh. Light comes from exactly two places: a hot white key from the overhead truss raking down across every face and throwing long shadow wedges behind all five onto the black cabinets, and a magenta-to-cyan wash from the downstage floor strip that lights them from below and catches the undersides of chins, cymbal rims and the mirrored hardware, leaving a hard bright edge on each cymbal. Beyond the truss, the venue is a black void. Contrast is deep, the palette black and white and skin with the magenta-cyan wash bleeding through and the drum hardware in cold chrome. Cymbals are caught at the point of the hit, their blurred arcs the only proof of the noise; a single stick is frozen at the instant before it strikes. Loud and joyful.

When Setsuna took over the drums

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