Soulmates……….. by Reinasinnax

…an opera performer famous for his talents is stricken with terminal illness again. While he fights a personal battle, he meets someone who seems distinctly familiar somehow?

The stage

The lovers cry out alas!

And with a flourish, she falls dead, into the water.

The main role cries out his anguish. He stabs himself.

The final scene done, the lovers are reunited together.

The actors and actresses rise from the floor, from their bloodshed. They all bowed solemnly, some panting slightly, some speaking with their friends, awash with the joy and stage.

One of them was a very outstanding guy, his golden crown, multi colored face and formidable height. His eyes shone as he smiled radiantly. "Thank you. We hope you'll come again." He waved back to a screaming fan. The girl saw him withdraw, bent double. Her heart stirred.

What had happened? Was his sickness relapsing? The news covered a small section on his comeback from a long illness. He'd refused to disclose its nature. His name, Hirosaki Tomo, also affectionately known as Tomo-sempai. The girl bit her lip, pushing her way to the front of the crowd, went up to the stage. A blue costume, gleaming, blocked her view. He was barring her path.

"Please, let me speak with him! Is he all right? Is Tomo-sempai all right?"

"Who are you? His relative? Sorry! No entry unless you're the crew," a bodyguard picked it up tauntingly.

"Matte, what is it?" Soft green eyes met her brown ones. Without his makeup, clothed in plain blue garb and loose white pants, Tomo-sempai looked very pale, and this wasn't just due to his Japanese origin. He was even paler than his comrades, one of whom he leaned heavily upon. Tomo winced, pressing a hand to his side. "Do you wish to have my autograph?"

Even as the man protested noisily, Tomo extended his hand. She was so excited and saddened too when they shook hands. The singer produced a black pen and signed his name and wrote well- wishes on her notebook. She was wordless. Tomo did not hurry away but smiled to give her time to talk, ignoring the bustle around him. He was simply too beautiful for busyness and bustle. The girl saw through this casualness, for he was breathing harshly and perspiration sheened his neck and hair clung to his brow.

"I…I had to come! I did not know what drove me to, but I wanted to come!" she hastily threw the words out, anything to keep him in this moment with her. "I got so worried about you. On the news….. there just hasn't been enough of an update. Are you sick?"

The singer thumbed backstage. She was incredulous- did he not need some rest? He was so brave! Her 'fan-girl' mind cooed. From his collection of feathers, he drew one out and presented it to her. "I cannot possibly…."

"Accept it. Since you admire me so much, I should give you a small token, as appreciation for your support." The girl pushed back strands of brown curls, her neck and ears bright red. Tomo-sempai was giving her a gift! She hugged the thing to herself. Hirosaki sat heavily at his dresser and closed his eyes, coughed painfully.

When she had left his companion chided him for not taking care of himself. The singer sighed, looked up at him. "Come on, I feel fine now. You shouldn't turn her away. She must have gone through a lot of effort to come. I think we shouldn't decline people. How is the new boy? I want to see him rehearse again."

"He should be fine. You know how tired you are. You're not as you used to be. We have another performance later and tomorrow too. I'll drive you back now."

"I want to do it now," Hirosaki Tomo sat straighter and said stubbornly, in a soft tone. The manager shook his head. They called him in. The new boy Futani Touga, a lanky lad with small eyes and a sweet mouth. Tomo watched him, critiquing those wrong moves. He would always end with 'practice makes it perfect'. Yeah they agreed Hirosaki was strict but he was one of the best opera leaders cum writer. "Walk with delicate confidence, Touga-san. Show me… um hm, yes. Hold your chin up, look confident. Yes, great."

Hirosaki was the only existing bloodline from Japan, his granny was a japanese native who mingled Chinese and Japanese opera elements together. He specialized in the Jing role, the painted face , hua lian. The raven locked young man was renouned for his high standards, as all artistes were, but avuncular and approachable, generally friendly to all people. He welcomed the kids too. Though he had his bad temper, he tried not to rant and rave and he always forgave the wrong-doer. Everybody was thus affected in some sense or the other when he fell ill for a year and was hospitalized. They loved him. Not just a fervor kind of love from the audience as well, but a truly sincere anxiety for him.

It was truly regrettable that he could not find a soulmate and have a succeeding heir. Hirosaki Tomo would love to have a son or if fate was differing he wouldn't mind a daughter too. Thus he had almost given up hope on his own offspring and coached young males eager to get into this hard life. It may be a modern life now, but in the opera it is still a hard trade, you need to literally pour blood, sweat and tears into your training, give up your entertainment for there's no short cut. Every male's wish is to lead a troupe eventually, anything less ambitious would be non fulfilling. Touga-san was the sixth disciple. It seemed that Tomo-sempai was impressed and planned to teach him. The manager could tell from the brightness in his ambers and how he twirled his long forelock in his index and third finger.

Jung was assisting other people to paint their faces. Others, some females too, were pinning each others' hair or straightening their costumes. They loved performance but the standard must be there- minimum would be neatness. One girl brushed down her shimmering pink maid's costume. Tomo laid his head on the dresser again and rested a while. The manager was worried. Despite having flu and feeling feverish, Tomo wanted to continue with the three to four hours' plays over the towns.

"This time I'm driving you back, Hirosaki-kun. No stopping me. Come on. I've packed your stuff." Picking up the bag, he waited as Tomo got up feebly and wrapped an arm about the manager.

The girl cocked her head seeing the pair get into a Rover. Her idol was in a thick coat despite the warm weather and he coughed again. In the far distance he looked like he floated. Her heart stirred, her tears came fresh and hot. She really should have seen his performances. Hirosaki-kun must be sick and what if she did not get to see him do anymore? Opera is best appreciated live. On stage the atmosphere is much more vivid.

Tomo awoke from another feverish nightmare. He sat up, feeling the ache on his neck and the heat of his brow. Yeah, he should've taken a break. He coughed. The pillows were sodden with sweat, so was his shirt and back. The man lay down for a while, letting the agony pass and slowly he eased himself up again. His friend was snoring in his chair. Sure, he had said to wake him if he needed anything. Half heartedly, Tomo reached for the man's hand then he smiled. The girl who had been so concerned for him. Why did her face bring him temporary comfort? Yes he did remember all his fans, but she was just like someone he felt like a best childhood friend.

Perhaps she was just very special. She had brown brown eyes, like a cow! Tomo laughed at the picture and crossed the room on wobbly legs. He poured himself a glass of water and cooled his head on the wall. Sweat continued to drip from his hair. Then he went to the fridge, took out ice cubes and dropped cubes into the glass. He drank this, sighing from the coolness. After that Tomo's thoughts drifted to his performances, how he threw knives, daggers or swung spears at his opponents. How he loved the cheering as he gyrated his head feathers, the feathers being a sign of a skilled general.

His temples ached. Before his glass slipped, he quickly placed it on the table and went back to bed. Back to the sodden smelly bedclothes. Tomo stifled his helplessness, hating himself for his weakness. Why did he suffer so much? The illness had been enough of a bother, those tumours were operated on. So shouldn't he be feeling better? Tears leaked out of self pity. Tomo clenched his fist and bit his lip.

His companion yawned flicking on the light. "Oh… what do you need? Told ya not to run about when you've got a temperature. Are you alright?" Tomo shook his head, holding the guy's hand.

"Just got a migraine. I'm all wet. Could you bring me a change of clothes? Thank you."

Minutes later, a wet cloth was pressed to his burning face. The patient smiled in relief. "Here." Tomo rose again and pulled off his shirt and pants. He had to get up to pull on the new ones. It drained him, feverish and all. Complete, Tomo collapsed on the bed again, despite the manager saying he would change the mattress and closed his eyes. A firm hand replaced the covers over his chest and wiped his face. "Thanks, Alan."

"You just don't get up again all right? Don't think I don't know and I'm deaf when you stumble about like a drunkard, Hirosaki." The patient chuckled, opened one eye and glanced at him. The man looked serious as he sat down on the chair to stare at him. Shivering started once more. Tomo's fingers trembled holding the blankets to his figure. He slipped into blackness as the friend called to him, holding his shoulders. I am too tired, see you later. A conscious desire to get up and do a show nagged him at the back of his mind but Tomo let it go and slept.

Concern

The girl penned Tomo-sempai a letter. She took a long time to prepare it but she was pleased with the final result. Her unsympathetic sister nagged her to stop. "Why are you wasting time on it? He has so many fanmail rushing in daily, do you think he will care to reply yours?"

Callon was her name, a vain lean girl who was below the thirties, holding a compact mirror in hand and lipstick in the other. "Sheez, always worshipping him! Does he know you like him? Does he even Know!"

"Yes! He gave me his feather!" she ranted, waving it albeit not triumphantly, indignantly.

Callon scoffed it was child's toys, and she should have received his whole family heirloom. The girl read the letter once more with affection.

Dearest Tomo-sempai,

Thank you for the beautiful gift! It is standing in its very own stand now, beside my desk. I wish you success and a very long life! I am sorry for your suffering. I do hope you will be well.

I really enjoy your performances. I love them. Your stories are so intriguing.

If it is not too troublesome, do you mind me coming to your house to visit? It is okay if you don't wish for it. I will pray for you. What religion are you, Buddhist or Shinto?

I hope you can take some time off your busy schedule to reply me. If you're still too busy, it is all right. Just wanted to let you know my feelings.

Your loyal fan,

Bernadette