Saichi had no idea why he was here. Who would choose to leave their home when the only thing outside were harsh winds and snow? He had experienced enough bitter temperatures during his youth. A lot of wind, snow and people. He had enough of all three. So, why was he not home, alone as usual?
The yellow lights lining the entrance to the theater gave him hope that there would be reprieve from the frost blowing in his face. There was not much of a crowd, so his overly excited companion was able to go up to the booth and hand over some crinkly bills for two tickets. Saichi trugged behind his friend who was humming and walking ahead inside.
While the two men settled down into the seats facing the stage, Saichi buried his face into his scarf, attempting to warm up his chilled nose and mouth. His mind wandered. If it weren't for the bald man beside him, he would be lying in bed, a bowl of lukewarm miso soup on the nightstand. He would think about an old friend, an unrequited love. The last time he was with said person, he was above her, knuckles gripping the sheets as she spoke to him. He had heard her voice multiple times yet her lips moved silently, hands gripping his arms. She had the disheveled look of a woman who was ravaged passionately in bed but her wide eyes and shaking head suggested otherwise.
What was she saying? What had gone wrong that night? Why did Umeko leave_
"Sugi, Sugi, it's about to start!" The bald man, Yoshitake, exclaimed, his hand gripping Saichi's shoulder.
Saichi blinked and sank into his chair, watching the stage. This better be worth his time.
The theater darkened, spotlights shining onto the red curtain that parted, revealing a simple stage. A soft glow lit up, exposing the pastel backdrop. Music began.
"You'll love this dancer." Yoshitake whispered.
The only dances Saichi had seen before were drunk friends or private meetings with women.
From the left, a rather muscular man lept and spun across the floor, his large, muscular legs clad in gray tights moving his frame as if he weighed nothing. His forehead had a cube protruding from it.
Saichi snorted. At least he would have something to laugh about later. How on earth could that man balance and stand on tippy toes while having the body of a gorilla? Guys like that were in gyms, pumping themselves with steroids and lifting weights until sweat drenched their eyeballs and their faces cherry red.
Cubehead knelt on one knee, closing his eyes and smiling with one arm extended to the side of the stage. A blur of navy and pink spun towards him. Saichi's attention peaked when the swirl of silk settled.
Dark hair, hints of blue swayed across smooth skin, a leg extended above the dancer's head, rippling the rosy pink dress. Long lashes lined the most beautiful pair of blue eyes Saichi had ever seen. Blue with hints of purple, or was it black?
"There she is." Yoshitake quietly cheered.
Sugimoto didn't hear him; he was staring at the young dancer who took cubehead's hand and lead him into a duet of twirls and jumps.
Saichi was not sure how long the performance lasted. All he knew was that he was glad he didn't stay in tonight. His gaze did not leave the dark haired ballerina until she and cubehead curtseyed to the audience. The applause broke Saichi's trance and started to clap once he realized he was still sitting.
"Asuko!" Yoshitake cooed, tears running down his face.
Rose stems were tossed at the dancers. Cubehead smiled and flexed, crushing some stems between his biceps.
"Which one is Asuko?" Saichi asked.
"You don't know!?" Exclaimed Yoshitake, hand on his chest, "It's the gorgeous girl you were ogling for the last hour!"
"Shut up." Saichi muttered, hiding half of his face behind his scarf. Of course Yoshitake noticed; the bastard isn't as much of a nimwit as he thought.
Saichi stared at Asuko, who was smiling while holding a couple of roses and waving at the crowd. She glanced at Saichi, who stopped clapping. With the lights on, he could really see how brillant her eyes were. The only other thing more blue than her irises was the cloudless summer sky in his hometown.
Remembering home, Umeko's face appeared in Saichi's mind, only to vanish when Asuko gave Saichi a small smile. Saichi's ears burned and he looked away.
"Let's get going. Probably can get a beer on our way back." Saichi mumbled to Yoshitake who was busy waving at the ballerinas.
At the exit, Saichi noticed a man in a navy suit walk towards Asuko and muscle man. His black hair was gelled back, one strand hanging between his dead eyes. The muscle man frowned, putting a hand on the ballerina's shoulder. Asuko smiled at cubehead and lifted his hand off her. The man in the suit said something and put his arm around her shoulders, leading her backstage. For some reason, Saichi felt uneasy. The aura around that man seemed unsettling.
"Asuko The Lightfooted Ballerina." Yoshitake showed the poster portraying a watercolor painting of the dancer they had just seen.
Saichi rested his chin in his hand as he glanced at the poster. Cubehead was a sideshow then; Asuko was the star. Rightfully so. He was still thinking about those eyes.
"I take it you now have a weekend activity?" Yoshitake retorted smugly, nudging Saichi.
"I guess it beats lying in the dark with my thoughts." Saichi shrugged.
The duo drank from their tall glasses of beer, nodding thanks at the bartender who placed small plates of skewered meat before them at the bar. Yoshitake shoved two skewers in his mouth, humming contentedly. Saichi sighed.
"This ain't the woods, Shiraishi." Saichi took a skewer and bit into a piece of meat.
"Loosen up." Yoshitake was already done with one plate and halfway through the other.
Saichi pressed his eyes into his fingers. As much as he and the bald man had been through, he often wondered why he was his friend. They both may have been survivalists but their etiquette, morals and taste in women were opposites.
Umeko appeared in Saichi's mind. She was hugging his arm, resting her head in his neck as he drank. It was a very different night from the last time they were together.
Saichi squeezed his arm. How long has it been since he felt warm? The kind of warmth where even the coldest of nights felt like a slight chill in comparison to the heat emitting from the person embracing you.
Saichi gripped the glass, hoping it would crack and give him relief, anything to fill the emptiness he felt.
Asuko's eyes. Dark azure locking soil brown. Saichi nearly spilled his beer as he got up and rushed outside.
"Oi, where ya going?" Yoshitake steadied the glass.
The snowy winds scratched at Saichi as he looked around. A couple of pedestrians made their way past the estranged man who staggered away from the bar.
He felt her. She was here.
Saichi leaned against a store window, catching his breath and warming his face in his scarf. It wasn't easy to make Saichi Sugimoto brace for unpredictable weather after his years as a soldier's dog but if there was a prize, he wasn't nicknamed "immortal" for nothing.
A couple of blocks down, Saichi saw three figures walking towards him. Saichi squinted their way. Dark hair blew behind the smaller figure. It was her.
Asuko hugged herself as she moved along a large man, most likely cubehead, and a slightly taller figure in a black trenchcoat and hat. She was obviously cold. The purple scarf covering half her face was flapping behind her.
Saichi hadn't noticed during the ballet how small she was. Yet, her youthful appearance held an air of maturity. Her eyes were not bright like a child's. Saichi recognized the sadness in them.
At talking distance, Asuko's purple scarf blew off her. She gasped and lept for it but it was beyond her reach.
Saichi watched the scarf float towards him. He grabbed it and went towards her.
"Hey! I believe this is yours_"
The man in the trenchcoat side eyed Saichi. Dark, emotionless eyes. Saichi froze.
Cubehead reached for the scarf and carefully pulled it towards him.
"Thank you, young man." He spoke gruffly.
Saichi didn't answer. He was watching Asuko who was returning his gaze. He was only looking for a couple of seconds but those seconds were some of the longest Saichi had experienced.
"Asuko." The man in the trenchcoat ushered her forward.
Saichi watched them disappear into the distance. After studying Asuko's features, he was certain about one thing:
He sure as hell will attend her next performance.