Hello readers! Just some background information: Katsuro Shinatama and Sabrina Cage are both OCs. Katsuro is a student, Sabrina is a teacher. Obviously Akira is not. Writing in this universe is new to me. Thanks very much for your readership.
A Mere Coincidence
It was a ghastly night to go out. Dark clouds overhead suggested rain, and a glance at the calendar would've told anyone that it would be cold. But I was used to the dark, and my need for a change of scenery overcame my desire for warmth. Yamaku Academy was a nice place. It had everything anyone in my position could ask for. Well maintained grounds, teachers that seemed to care, and a diverse curriculum to suit equally diverse academic pursuits. Of course, there was also the much touted twenty four hour nursing staff and nearby hospital.
However, even the shyest bird wishes to take a glance beyond the most comfortable nest on occasion. I had experienced my share of victories and disappointments so far. I'm sure the other students had as well. After a brief episode with one of the teachers, and another, more stressful one with a certain classmate afflicted with some manner of serial memory loss, I was hoping to find something different outside the walls.
I set out on a Saturday after dinner, dressing warmly and making my way over to the small train station in the modest town down the hill. Something about the leisurely stroll down that street always gave me a sense of mundane tranquility. This was a simple, quiet place, and that was entirely alright. A few stray neon lights lit the rain puddles with splashes of color. A few people passed me as I walked. I managed to make eye contact and wave with those who weren't too distracted. The Shanghai seemed to be unusually busy. Apparently the frustrating lack of menus wasn't enough of a deterrent.
Shortly enough, I arrived at the train station. Knowing the schedule by heart, I glanced at my watch and was happy to find out that I wouldn't have to wait that long. The only one there besides myself was an older gentleman. Briefly, I considered greeting him, but his cigarette assisted reverie didn't seem worth interrupting. Instead I withdrew a pair of headphones from my coat pocket and plugged them into my phone, finding something that suited my mood. Electronic, upbeat, and still somewhat peaceful.
The vibration against the wet concrete from the train coming to a stop beside the small shelter was enough to cause me to look up. The man smoking a cigarette extinguished it in a soggy ashtray atop one of the waste baskets and walked inside, and I followed him. For a weekend, there weren't many people aboard. The weather was probably to blame - it was foggy enough that I had difficulty seeing the trees outside the train's windows.
Before setting out, I had looked into places I could hang out. I liked to dance and listen to music, but drinking had never truly appealed to me. A few bars apparently let people under 20 socialize and dance, but carded for drinks. That was fine with me. I'd probably ask for a water. Or perhaps they served sprite. One place in particular had caught my eye online. I thumbed my phone's screen to scroll down, looking over the pictures. It was a nightclub with a decent sized dance floor. They had a room for more upbeat club music, and one for more immersive and relaxing trance music.
'Maybe I'll try that one out,' I thought to myself. Double checking just in case, my free hand roamed over my body. I relaxed when I felt that familiar, rectangular bulge in my left coat pocket, indicating that I hadn't forgotten my shades. From what I could see in the images online, I'd probably need them.
Drawing the mirrored lenses from my pocket, I used them to check over my hair. It had the same spiky, controlled chaos as always.
We arrived after an uneventful half hour, on some street corner. I was the only one to exit there. After quickly glancing at the club's web page again, I determined that I'd need to walk about a mile west to reach my destination.
None of the content simpleness from that small town outside Yamaku persisted here. In this place, people rushed from one place to another, seemingly never content with where they were at the time. I suppose I could relate to that on some level. One of the streets was so bright with signage and streetlights that I found myself donning my shades, drawing more than a few glances from passing citizens. It wasn't the first time.
The dress of the line outside the club told me that wearing shades at night wasn't the least bit out of line for the crowd there. My red tie, black shirt, shades, and extreme hair was modest in comparison to some of the other patrons. Vinyl miniskirts abounded, and even some of the men wore platform shoes. Their hair was a veritable rainbow of hues. Now I hoped I wouldn't be turned away for being too tame.
I gave a few polite nods to the other people in line, but ultimately remained silent until I reached the door. The bouncer gave me a look up and down.
"Just you?" he asked, holding out a hand.
"Yes," I said, handing him my worn identification card.
'Katsuro Shinatama' he mouthed.
"Stay way from any drinks and we won't have a problem. Enjoy your evening," he said, handing it back to me. I smiled lightly and pocketed the card. Apparently the cover charge didn't apply to those under twenty.
Partially averting my eyes to avoid the harshest lights, I made my way toward the back of the room, intent on finding the stairs. I had to wade my way through the crowd, but it was easy enough, and soon I was in another place. Although it was just as loud, the music was considerably more peaceful. Instead of stomping around, the dancers seemed to drift among the colored fog and slowly undulating lights. A fitting embodiment of my own state of mind. I stepped among them, slowly dancing along to the beat.
The atmosphere soon rendered most of my senses useless. My sense of sight, shrouded by my shades and further obscured by the scintillating artificial mist, was barely enough to keep me from colliding with the dancers next to me. I could only smell sweat, perfume, and alcohol, in addition to whatever odorizers the club used. Something vanilla scented. Of course, the only thing I could practically hear was the music - ever pulsating, ever shifting. A common criticism of this kind of music was that it lacked variance. That simply wasn't true, it just lacked variance if the listener lacked patience.
Somewhere between my glasses slipping partially down my nose, and feeling a strong desire to remove my coat, I realized that I was rather exhausted. I decided to step off of the dance floor. The bartender served me a water, handing me a complimentary mint to go with it. I hoped it was policy to do such - unless they could smell my breath from there. I shrugged and pulled the mint from the wrapper using my teeth in a deft motion, discarding the trash on my way to the coat room.
I closed my eyes and removed my shades, wiping some of the sweat from my face. Unfortunately, when I put them back on, I realized that I was a collision course with another person headed to the coat room. Digging my heels in, I managed to only bump into them with a shoulder. Thankfully, the contents of my plastic cup remained inside of it.
"Sorry," I said, looking at them. A pair of ruby red eyes - unlike any that I'd ever seen before - found mine on a feminine face, framed by a blonde intake type hairstlye. She gave a dismissive wave.
"Don't worry about it," she said, "I'm Akira. Satou."
I smiled back and offered her my free hand, saying, "Katsuro Shinatama. It's nice to meet you, Akira."
"Nice to meet you too," she said, turning to face the man in the coat room. I thought my own attire had been tame, but hers was business-like. A pinstriped suit, a button up white shirt, and a casual attitude that didn't quite seem to match. Being here, of all places, said something. Her clothes were nice and well maintained, but not exactly feminine or flattering. Still, she was attractive. And probably older than my by at least a handful of years.
I smiled silently as she stepped aside, allowing me to hand over my coat.
'When did that ever deter me…?' I thought to myself, turning to face her. I was surprised that she seemed to not be walking away. Had she really come alone?
"So what were you drinking?" she asks me, gesturing to the cup. I let out a short laugh.
"Just water," I say. She raises a brow.
"How old are you?" she asks.
I hesitate, but decide to be truthful, "Eighteen. Not that it matters - I don't like drinking regardless."
She smiled and walked further down the hall, to another door I hadn't yet seen. The window revealed a covered balcony of some sort, complete with a few waitresses. A nice place to relax.
"You're in a strange place for someone who doesn't like drinking, Katsuro," she said. I guess her using my first name was a good enough sign.
"Am I? I don't find a need to drink to enjoy myself. I can dance and meet new people. You know. Just watch though - maybe I'll get real crazy and order a sprite," I say.
Akira laughs a bit. As we reach the door, I open the door for her. She nods politely.
"I'll probably stick to the hard stuff, but I can respect your point," she says, taking a relaxed seat on one of the seats in the corner. I find one adjacent to her.
I nod, "So, what about you? Did you come here to have fun? Are you here with someone?"
"I decided I needed a change of pace. My normal hangout is a Jazz bar," Akira says - I grimace a bit and then smile, and she continues, "Not a fan of Jazz? I can't say I blame you. It isn't for everyone. What about you?"
I take a sip of my water, finishing off the glass. When I'm about to respond, a waitress interrupts us. I can't help but steal a glance at her uncovered thighs - she's wearing a short skirt, a vest, and a shirt with a tie.
"Anything from the bar?" She asks. Akira orders some cocktail I have no knowledge of, and I ask for 'just a sprite'. She nods and politely walks away.
"Watch out, that sprite is strong stuff," she says, "Anyway, continue."
I decide again that honesty is the best policy, "School was grating on me. I decided I needed a break from the homework. And the girl-related confusion."
Akira gives me a smirk, "Girls are confusing, yeah?"
I can feel my eyes narrow under my lenses, "Oh, do you… swing that way?"
The waitress returns quickly with our drinks, lowering her serving tray to our level. We thank her and she walks off. Akira takes a sip.
"I swing both ways. And you're right. Girls are confusing," she says, watching the ice swirl around in her glass. In a slightly quieter voice, she adds, "...especially the blue haired teaching variety."
I cough a bit and glance up. My reaction causes Akira to glance up as well.
"The blue haired teaching variety? I don't suppose she spoke English as well?" I venture. Akira's smirk breaks into a broad grin, and her eyes narrow.
'No fucking way...' I think to myself
"What the fuck…?" Akira says. Apparently her thoughts weren't far from mine.
"Sabrina Cage," I state simply. Akira laughs and shakes her head.
"It's a small world, Katsuro. To a small world!" she says, raising her glass toward me. I do likewise and take a sip of my sprite.
"Indeed it is," I say, raising a brow.
"I think it gets even smaller. I'm going to guess that you were one of her students at Yamaku? I guess that might explain the glasses?" she ventures, gesturing toward my eyes. I nod.
"I'm photophobic. But actually, I met her before I knew she was a teacher, in some park outside the school. I uh… we went out to dinner. And I kissed her," I say. Akira's look changed from happiness to incredulity. If she had been drinking at the time, she might've ended up spitting it out.
"Really? What happened?" she asked. She set her glass down on the arm of the chair and rolled up her sleeves neatly. It was clear she was used to doing such.
I looked down, managing a half smile, "She ran away. Both times I kissed her, actually."
Akira looked up, having finished with her sleeves, and said, "Hey, when I tried to sleep with her, she left the country. Don't feel bad."
It was my turn to look incredulous. I felt myself blush, but managed a laugh afterward.
"I don't think you were the sole reason for her leaving. She was fired. I'm not really sure about the specifics," I said afterward, finishing off my drink and chewing on a few ice cubes.
"Well, kissing students probably didn't help her career along," Akira said, giving me a mischievous smile and tilting her glass toward me before finishing off her own drink. I stood up and offered her a hand.
"Would you like to dance?" I ask, extending a hand to her. She shrugs and stands up, taking it. I led her back inside, looking forward to the rest of the evening with Akira.