#shigeru kimura

It was getting better.

After the debacle a while back, you branched out a little bit more in hopes to avoid any more familiar faces. Though your coworkers meant well, there was just a special sort of embarrassment to be seen like that and be expected to send emails the next day.

Playing the dumb American role was easier on your own, obviously less embarrassing as well. It especially came in handy when it came to pretending to misunderstand the men that came up to you. You want to forget about love and the fact that you still wanted it--not start it all over again with some dude offering a cheap beer. 

You started moonlighting the karaoke bars once every two weeks and only when you have the next day off. Researching your destinations in advance and having something to look forward to made the days brighter.

It’s the most fun that you’ve had since you’ve had your heart broken. You suffered during the working hours and poured your heart out on your own time. 

Just like now. 

Lost in thought--you wandered to the empty karaoke stage. The song selection was pretty weak compared to the previous bar you went to, but there had to have been something…

Then you saw it. Whitney Huston.

The sight of the peach gold album nearly made you cry as you hurried to select a song.

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Oooh-ooh-ooh

I know that when you look at me

There's so much that you just don't see

But if you would only take the time

I know in my heart you'd find

You stage fell away as you closed your eyes, focusing on the slight vibrations of the speakers behind you. It felt like you were flowing through the lyrics, being picked up by your edges and brought along.

A girl who's scared sometimes

Who isn't always strong

Can't you see the hurt in me?

I feel so all alone

I wanna run to you (oooh)I wanna run to you (oooh)

Won't you hold me in your arms

And keep me safe from harm

I want to run to you (oooh)

But if I come to you (oooh)

Tell me, will you stay or will you run away.

The stage faded away, there weren’t lights on your face or a murmuring crowd before you. You couldn’t feel the mic or the glass in our other hand. You couldn’t feel your pinchy shoes or recall where you put your purse.

All that was left was your voice. The only thing you could feel was the pit of your lungs to the spirit of your tongue. You didn’t care what you sounded like, you couldn’t care less if you were making faces–all you wanted was to sing. For as long and as loud as you could.

Only, every song had an ending and now there was a line for the microphone. You lingered until the final cords rang before handing over the microphone to the waiting couple behind you. Maybe you could sing another before you go. 

One more song and one more drink, then a cab home–

There was a man at your table.

An older gentleman who only gave you a slight nod, smiling slightly as if you knew why he was there. You took a seat and slowly pulled your purse closer to yourself as you eyed him. He…he was handsome. He sat there with a casual grace and undeniable confidence as he eyed you right back. Dressed smartly in shades and black, you wondered if he was the owner of the bar or a rich type when he spoke.

“I noticed your purse was left unattended. I could not leave it be.”

Yeah, it was stupid to leave your purse. It had everything you needed to get home and that realization killed your want for another drink.

“Err, tha-thank you so much…”

He waved a hand before introducing himself as Kimura Shigeru. You quietly gave him your own name. A waitress walked by before doubling back at the sight of him. It was a bit surprising as this particular waitress had been rather lax throughout the whole night. 

“Ah, can I get you anything? Either of you?” 

Huh, she’s being awfully attentive now. 

You watched from the corner of your eye as he ordered a water. You quickly followed, thought about it, and then he said,

"<You sing beautifully.>"

"<You should see me sober>."

"<An equally beautiful sight, I'm positive>."

You snorted before squinting over at the man seated next to you at the small table you've claimed for the night.

"<Do you only sing songs in English? I would have a few requests if otherwise>."

The question stilled the glass reaching for your mouth as you realized you've been responding in Japanese after your whole schtick on stage.

He must have seen the caught out expression on your face from the little smile on his face. "Your pronunciation is very good."

"I, thanks, I-I mean I am fluent. It's just less embarrassing for me to sing sad songs if I think not as many people understand what I’m saying, that's all."

"Oh?"

You leaned over into your glass as your heart began to whine in your chest. Here you were in another bar being pitiful when you should have been something--anything else...

A shot was placed gently down in front of you and you looked up in time to see the man tossing back his own shot.

He was handsome, maybe older but the light wasn't helping your unfocused gaze. You saw the elegant lines of his coat, the hair spilling over his shoulder.

"You look like you have something to say," the man said after catching your staring.

Shaking your head you squeaked, "No, no I don't..."

"I think you do. A story to tell, at least."

Flashes of guilty smiles and the shattered promises, bows that weren't yours in the bedsheets...

The shot went down without you even feeling it.

"Nope. No story to tell."

The man huffed a laugh as he pulled the laminated menu page closer to look over.

You watched him from the corner of your eye. A handsome face beneath his neat beard and goatee. HIs hair was half up in a bun, the rest spilling down his back.

"Stories have a way of wanting to be told, don't you think? A commercial that follows you around, reminding you to check your health. An ad telling you to mind the batteries in your fire alarm..."

You were eyeing one of the loosening braids in his hair when he turned to offer the menu to you. "Perhaps a…song that won't leave your heart once it's broken in?"

Exhaling hard, you considered your options. Could you even get through everything without crying again? This man, Shigeru, wanted to know so badly for some reason.

There was something about the way he waited patiently until you peeked at him. Then he leaned in expectantly, making you want to laugh.

"It's a long story."

"Those are my favorite."

"I make really dumb decisions--you may not be able to stand me after."

Shigeru chuckled, "Who hasn't, my dear? Now, please, tell me what has you singing so sorrowfully?"

--------

You told him everything. The tears came again but behaved in the face of Shigeru-san's attentiveness. He softly cut you off by insisting on a glass of water and shared Karaage.

You told him about the boy you chased all through high-school, the one you tried to impress in college, the coworker who stood you up after a shared project and acted as if nothing happened.

"It's me Shigeru-san. I know it is. I ran from the hurt back at home, but it's followed me here!" You threw a hand up in the air as the other sloshed the glass of water.

The anger vanished as fast as it came. You rubbed at your raw face with one hand and used a napkin to clean up your mess.

"I just...want someone. Not to think I'm perfect or-or not enough. I want someone who wants me to be just right for them."

There was a point where you had to look at yourself and face the truth. You were too soft. You can't handle saying 'no' but wonder why others don't have the same troubles.

After a bite of the provided emotional-support chicken, you continued. "Singing at places that are unknown, it makes it feel like a movie. The most hurtful part is over, but after that--the good things start to happen."

With that--it felt like you ran out of words. You looked to him as if to say, 'There you have it'.

"Well, that was indeed a story," Shigeru did not laugh but somehow you ended up doing so, "While that's a lovely sound to hear, just what's so funny?"

You shook your head, refusing to further trauma dump on this lovely man who you’ve taken a bit of shine too. He plied you with water, tasty food, and you were starting to feel less than miserable after telling him your story.

“I’m not sure. To be honest.” 

“That’s fine.” He insisted, refilling your glass from the pitcher that was brought over earlier, “It’s fine to just feel. Feel it all. Sometimes it is the best thing we can do to move on.”

“You always know what to say?”

“Rarely do I ever speak out of experience, my dear.”

“That…sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”

Shigeru chuckled a bit, resting a hand onto his cane with drumming fingers. Not for the first time since the two of you started speaking, you were absolutely taken by his presence. Eyes trained on his hands, the bravest thought in your head fought its way out of your mouth.

“Shigeru-san, what’s your favorite song?”

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ending notes: I had to come back to these two! this took so long but here is a part 2! I have a part 3 brewing as well! Thank you so much for reading and please tell me what you think!

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