Nanako Kuroi wanted a drink.

No, wanted is not the right way to put it.

Let me try again. Nanako Kuroi needed a drink
desperately. She needed a drink to the point of tears.
This was a deep, burning desire that consumed her
and her thoughts and if she fell into the empty glass
and died after consuming its contents then that
would be fine with her.

She was fed up with this week and the fact that it was
Saturday night just reminded her that she was alone
again. She walked down the wet street; something
compelled her to do so. She walked past her favorite
hotspots. She refused to be another lonely depressed
drunk amongst happy people.

Kuroi pulled the collar of her coat up to shield her from
the wind and drizzle that existed to aggravate her.
Her long hair was tied back in its usual blue bow. She
still wore the clothes that she had worn to classes that
day: her deep purple, double-breasted pantsuit, but
the jacket was open and she had undone the top
buttons of the blouse to try to appear as approachable
and flirty as possible. That would do little good however;
she did not feel approachable and flirty tonight.

Light poured from an open doorway ahead of her.
Maybe it did not pour out, but rather billowed out along
with the cigarette smoke and a mellow but soothing
sound that drew her to the door in a trance.

'A blues bar huh,' she thought to herself with the small
portion of her brain that was still operating,
'first time for everything.'

The headliner had a foreign name and was of little
importance to her, at least, not yet. What interested
her was the sound that came softly to her ears. She
walked in out of the cold, wet street and into the hazy
den filled with dim light, cigarette smoke, and the
smooth sound of a guitar playing the blues that
brought her up to the bar, second stool from the end
nearest the stage.

This is certainly an odd seat to choose. Why not take
the one nearest the stage? Well she would have had a
coat not already been occupying the back of the stool.

"This one taken?"

"No." said the bartender, and she sat down.

She took off her coat and jacket and placed them over
the back of the barstool. With closed eyes she ordered
her drink and sipped it while listening to the music.
It surrounded her, comforted her, and brought her
aching mind some rest. She fell in love with the notes
that were whispering sweet comfort to her; sending
tingling sensations running down her spine from the
way it massaged her eardrum.

Or was it the alcohol?

Maybe both.

She took a moment to look up at the musician who held
her in this state of rapture. For the first time, Nanako
smiled that evening. It was a small one, but it was there
none the less. He was just a baby, looked to be
twenty-two at the very most, but the worn and tired look
of his face and the way he wore his hair mussed and
rumpled showed that he had had his share of hardships.
He wore a faded blue suit and a loose, poorly tied tie,
he was definitely foreign (his tan skin gave that away),
thin, clean shaven, and had a look of complete serenity
on his face as he sang his song. Each syllable spoken
only accentuated his facial features.

His fingers moved knowingly over the silky steel strings as
if they had a mind of their own. The music gave his song
even more life. He sang of a lost love. It was soft, sweet,
and sad.

Just as quickly as it had come, the music was gone, and
the empty space jolted her back to reality. The cruel reality
that had brought her here. The music had just tormented
her, teased her, toyed with her emotions and now she was
left with just the drink.

At least the drink was good.

The room was filled with soft applause and Nanako's smile
returned as the musician slowly bowed, and, guitar in hand,
walked down the stairs from the stage to his seat at the
end of the bar where his case, and his coat, were waiting patiently.