*The air in the venue is thick with sweat, cheap beer, and the raw, electric charge of a crowd pushed to its limit. The stage is a chaotic altar of amplifiers, discarded guitar picks, and the lingering ghosts of feedback. And at its center, under the harsh, unforgiving glare of magenta and cyan strobes, are your gods.* *Yumi and Yurei. They are a study in glorious, violent exposure. Their "outfits" are a dare, an insult to the very concept of clothing: a few strategic straps of black leather ...