Anchor
Written by: RinoaDestiny
#3 – Waiting
The guitar case on his back, Iori grabbed his phone and thrust it into the depths of his coat pocket. There was a concert at one of the most well-known jazz clubs within the next few hours and he wanted to make it to the venue before rush hour. Once the subway trains got packed, he wasn't going anywhere fast and he preferred a less crowded ride. He also needed time to tune up and check with the band, so getting there earlier was better than later.
Iori didn't like working on a tight schedule. It made him twitchy.
He checked once for keys and wallet and then stepped up onto the entranceway. Put his shoes on, swatting aside the leather straps hanging from his black leather pants and unlatched the door. Stepped outside, inhaled the fresh air, made sure his door was locked and headed downstairs. While Kyo got around on a bike, he took the local bus.
From there, he'd take the subway to downtown.
They had five songs tonight and two of them had bass solos. He'd been practicing for several weeks – was playing even last night – and he was ready as he could be. Even now, walking down the sidewalk towards the bus stop, his mind kept repeating the chords. His hands remembered the feel of the guitar pick and how the strings impressed into his callused fingers. How the music took him away to somewhere pleasant and relaxing.
Iori smiled. He enjoyed music. He enjoyed jazz.
Tonight promised to be a good night. Kyo couldn't make it – had something to take care of – but that was fine. On evenings like this, the only thing that mattered was the music.
When he arrived at the bus stop, he was the lone occupant of the small glass-enclosed booth. He stood there, looking out at the quiet residential neighborhood. At the high blue sky. There were kites in the distance – probably kids playing.
He slipped on his headphones, hooking it to his phone.
Put a playlist on.
By the time the bus arrived, his world was nothing but trumpets, saxophones, pianos, and bass guitars.
The performance had gone well. His bandmates were stellar tonight and their audience was pleased. They'd been offered a few drinks on the house and although Iori usually refrained, even he participated with a single cup. Afterwards, they mingled with their fans – girls calling his name and taking his picture was a constant – and then, it was time to leave. Not a man of many words around those he didn't consider his intimates, he nodded as the others left. He headed towards the back, towards the exit, so that he could leave in peace and quiet.
Usually, after a concert, he preferred to be alone.
He opened the door. Slipped outside.
Downtown Osaka was ablaze with light, with nighttime activity, with all the commotion and excitement of a big city. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. Slowly let the smoke out, watching the neon colors through half-lidded eyes. He was tired but happy – it wasn't often he could say that – and his mind was already considering home and his bed.
A good night's sleep.
A good breakfast in the morning, gotten from the local convenience store.
He leaned back against the wall, placed the cigarette to his lips, and continued partaking of it. By the time the final ashes fell, Iori was content. Content and ready to go home.
He dropped the cigarette on the asphalt. Ground it out with the sole of his shoe.
His phone vibrated in his coat pocket. He took it out.
Yagami, is your concert done? If it is, I can give you a ride. Trains will be done soon.
Kyo. Of course.
Iori texted back, the city lights in accord with the brightness from his phone's screen. Where are you?
A few seconds.
Not far from the club. Pause. How was it?
Iori smiled.
Went well. The fans got their money's worth.
That's good. You're at the front or back?
Back. Quiet out here.
Another few seconds elapsed. You like that, right? Just being by yourself?
Yeah.
Wait there. I'll come get you. Going home or to a hotel?
Iori typed, watching as a single kanji character occupied one tiny speech bubble. Home.
Sorry to have missed it. Family matters, you know.
Next time.
Yeah. I'll see you soon. Just stay there.
Not going anywhere, Kyo. See you soon.
He turned his phone off and pocketed it. Shifted the guitar case on his back. Stood there and waited. When the headlight came into view along with the motorcycle's roar, Iori stepped forward.
The bike came to a halt. Its rider removed his helmet.
"Come on. Get on."
Iori did. Kyo had been waiting for him. He accepted the spare helmet and put it on. Encircled his arms around Kyo's waist and leaned forward to adjust his balance on the shared seat. Kyo had been waiting for him and that was enough.
It was a good night, indeed.