Anchor
Written by: RinoaDestiny
#17 – Music and Trust
Kyo was in the audience, inconspicuous in the back. They'd meet up afterwards outside, but Iori understood why Kyo kept distance. Like himself, Kyo Kusanagi was a household name and if anyone knew he was here, the spotlight could shift from Iori and the band over to Kyo. Attention seeker though his lover was, Kyo also came here to see him perform – a first for Kyo – so that meant staying at the darkest table in the back. Besides the soft glint of steel chain near his pants pocket, Kyo's clothing colors were subdued and dark.
Iori looked in his direction, fingers already placed in their proper position on the guitar, and then refocused on his band members. Their drummer sitting behind him grinned and their saxophonist adjusted his neck strap. To his far right, their keyboardist sat, hands ready on black and white. Next to the mike, their singer stepped forward, cleared her throat, and addressed the audience.
"Everyone, thank you for coming! We are delighted to be here!"
The audience cheered, a loud sound in the small club. In a bigger venue with a larger crowd, they might've clapped as well. Iori glanced towards the back – Kyo's presence here an additional bolster – which only lasted a split second, since the drums started up behind him. In a few measures, he'd accompany and then the music would begin in earnest.
He mentally counted the beats. Joined in with the first chords, the rich deep bass reverberating on the small stage and throughout the club's sound system. A thrill ran through him, through his fingers on the hard strings. He loved this – always had. Looked out at the audience, faces rapt and wondered what Kyo's expression was like. He couldn't see it from here.
The first note from the saxophone, sensuous and full.
Iori swayed to the harmonious beats, fighting off the urge to close his eyes.
He could get lost in the music, but it wasn't just him. He wasn't playing for himself – he was part of the band and they had old and new fans to entertain. Listening to the musical cues was a part of it, which he'd miss if he lost himself completely in the rhythm and sound washing over the stage.
He wasn't here to grandstand. He was, simply, a part of the whole.
Their singer cut loose, her voice clear and bright – another layer to the jazz – and their audience ate it up. Clapping and cheers, which energized them and gave more drive to their music. Their offering to the small crowd.
Kyo in the back. Watching and listening.
Iori played and they wrapped up the first song to the sound of applause.
The next song had drum and keyboard solos. The third song's solo was his. He'd practiced the solo by himself and during rehearsals, improvising where needed. Improvisation was an important skill for musicians, especially for jazz, and while he had a natural knack for it, he also applied himself. A good solo did much to propel a musician to greater heights and Iori reached for the stars, so to say.
Their second offering of the night was also well-received.
Iori settled himself into the core of the music for the third – riding the high of the notes – and when it was his turn to shine, he forgot all else and let himself cut loose. He moved forward on the stage, allowing a confident strut and belted out the chords. People listened; people waved their hands – not too different from a bigger venue's audience – and he stepped to the edge of the stage.
His musical idols did this in the industry. It fired the blood up and encouraged excitement.
Iori leaned into the music, against the curved edge of his guitar and delivered what felt like the best solo of his life. The ensuing applause crowned it; yet in the end, he was just a part of the whole. He returned to his position on the stage and continued to play until the song concluded. He could bask in the glory of it later, when the performance was all done.
Sweat rolled down his face. It was hot. Stage lights, the number of people here, and the sheer exuberance of his playing. The others were like him, hair matted to their foreheads and wet with perspiration. He wanted a smoke and a cold drink afterwards. A chance to air out the heat from beneath his clothes.
Kyo.
He wondered and then it was their fourth song of the night, dominated by their alternating saxophonist and singer. He slipped into the background, providing the beats that grounded the piece along with the drums. They all shared in the glory tonight, cementing their reputation in Osaka's jazz scene.
They closed, not surprisingly, to overwhelming applause and cheers.
"Thank you, everyone!" their singer said, a smile in her voice. "We have Kenzo Miyazawa on the sax." Cheers and clapping followed. "Ryuji Yamaha on the keyboard." The acoustics of the small club brought out the enthusiasm of their fans loud and clear. "Eisuke Ogawa on the drums." Another round of well-contented sounds. "Iori Yagami on the bass guitar."
The applause that followed was sweet. Iori looked towards the back and thought he glimpsed Kyo clapping as well. At least, he hoped he was. Then, Kenzo took the place at the mike, giving the last of the evening's glory to their singer.
"Harumi Sakamori, our singer."
If the place was any smaller, Iori reflected, it would've brought the house down.
Then, they got together to do their joint bows and the performance was over.
Between mingling with his fans – old and new, men and women both – Iori bought a cold can of soda at the bar and put it in his overcoat's pocket. The others circled, making the rounds and signing autographs as well. There was a group surrounding Harumi, whose repute as a jazz singer skyrocketed with each well-delivered performance. Iori didn't talk much to her – or anyone else for that matter besides business – but he supposed her success was something he could support.
"Yagami."
A quiet voice in the crowd, his name spoken in a tone that gave nothing away. He turned, facing Kyo up-close and personal for the first time tonight.
"That was great," the other man said, depth of feeling in his eyes. "You looked carefree up there."
He was. It was another side of him the music industry knew, but very few others saw. Kyo had seen it now and liked it. Accepted it. Said it in the open with others surrounding them.
Iori didn't care what the others thought.
"I'll be outside."
Kyo would be waiting out front. Unlike him, Kyo thrived among people – wasn't the kind to seek solitude in hidden places. Iori nodded. Kyo placed a hand on his upper arm – an open declaration – and stepped away amidst glances and low murmurs. Iori watched him leave, ignoring the voices around him and decided his late-night smoke could be delayed by a few hours.
"You have quite a few fans."
"Jealous?" Iori asked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets and glancing at the sky before returning his gaze to Kyo. They stood beneath the awning of a closed shop, dimly illuminated by the neon sign of the open eatery next to them. Its business was brisk, customers entering and leaving.
"Should I be?"
Iori shook his head. "Maybe in the past, but…"
"If I ever do, feel free to knock some sense into me."
"Why?"
Beside him, Kyo scuffed asphalt with the side of his shoe. "'Cause it means I don't trust you."
Iori stared at Kyo, unsure how to respond.
"I met Yuki a few days ago while getting lunch." Kyo held his gaze, not looking away. "Seems like she's fine with us. Better than before."
"You met her?" A sudden discomfort in the pit of his stomach, and Iori realized what Kyo meant about jealousy. It prickled him, an unsettling emotion. "You spoke to her?"
"Yeah. I did. Nothing happened." Kyo's gaze was level with his. "You trust me, right, Yagami?"
He couldn't deny the twisting anxiety – a stab of white-hot turmoil, rage disallowed – and fought to keep it from flaring into something uncontrollable. "I…" He knew Kyo wouldn't lie to him, but…. "She didn't…?"
"Why would she?"
Iori fell silent.
"Yagami, I'm with you now. You know that."
He did, but…. "Nothing happened?"
"No."
He dug out a cigarette and lit it. Took a deep drag, smothering the vicious entwined feelings under soothing nicotine. Kyo looked at him, gaze unwavering and Iori turned aside to blow out the smoke. Beside them, the eatery's door opened and closed, spilling light onto pavement.
"Trust comes hard to me, Kyo."
"Your exes?"
"Just me." He inhaled in more smoke. Let it out. "My old man."
Kyo's gaze softened. "What happened?"
"Training happened."
"You lost trust in him. When he –"
"I was supposed to kill you. Your clan. Bring my clan glory. My old man wanted a son, but he also wanted a killer." Iori sucked down another mouthful of smoke, relying on old comfort. Released it. "I didn't like being hurt. But he insisted. To harden me, he said. You know what it's like when I can't trust that he won't hurt me? When the clan told me it's for my own good?"
This time, Kyo stared at him. "Yagami…"
"It's easier not to trust. Because I won't get hurt."
"But you trust me, right?"
The cigarette between his fingers bent slightly. "I do. It's just…"
"Well, I trust you, Yagami. And if this is gonna work, you have to trust me. I know you don't like it when I bring her up, but Yuki trusted me. Didn't give her any reasons not to. I trusted her. That's why I told her when we –"
"Ended up together."
"Yeah. That's why we're still friends." Kyo reached out and touched his hand, careful of the cigarette. "That's why nothing will happen."
Iori didn't say anything.
"This'll take time. We know that."
"It's just…" He paused. "What if…" He stopped talking, uncertain.
"No ifs, Yagami." Kyo's voice, serious and mild, warmer than the eatery's artificial lights. "Not happening."
He could've leaned forward and kissed Kyo, but they were in public and he wasn't comfortable doing so even at night. There were people walking around, passing them from either direction. Kyo leaned back against the shop's rolling door, hands disappearing into his jeans pockets.
"I like you on stage. You looked confident."
"It's my life." Music was where he genuinely belonged. Fighting came second.
"I can tell."
The door next to them opened again, tempting smells of prepared food wafting out.
"You want something to eat?"
Iori discarded his cigarette. "Yeah. That sounds good."