Chapter Text
For years, Hiromi planted himself in the same spot inside his four corner office. His form never leaving his swivel chair, the wheels scraping against the polished floor as he moves around to reach for every drawer.
His fingers flipping through the stack of papers while his weary dark eyes narrowed slightly when he couldn't find the paper he was searching for.
Client after client, you name it. He was not planning to leave this room anytime soon. Even if the clock clicks to remind him that his shift was over, where else would he go?
Hell, back inside his empty apartment where more documents waved at him. In the end, he would just stay here. What difference does it make if he goes home anyway.
With a hand on his left shoulder, he attempts to shrug off the cramp that has been bothering him for hours. Well, for weeks. For months that keeps coming back like a pest.
He sighed and rubbed his face with an exasperated sigh before a grunt escaped him from how the simple movement made a dramatic impact on his body when he tried to straighten his posture.
He's only thirty-six, not even forty yet.
He's not that old to feel his bones growing weaker.
Hiromi took off his reading glasses and leaned back with a protesting creak from his chair. His head facing the plain ceiling. He squinted slightly, hoping to remove the blurriness on his sight but nothing changed.
What the hell.
He closed his eyes to dismiss the thought of his eyesight becoming poor. Maybe he's just tired from reading all day. Or maybe he's overwhelmed with the demands from his clients that it's starting to take a toll on his health.
His pen rested loose on his fingers as he savored the temporary silence around him except the quiet hum of the air-conditioner. And except the sound of the wooden door being clicked open.
“Attorney Higuruma,” His intern for two months came in, standing still by the door with his other hand hiding behind his back as if he was simply waiting for the lawyer's permission to enter.
“Tell them I already reviewed the case.” He mumbled firmly, his deep voice cutting through the atmosphere like he already knew what this intern was going to say.
The young man smiled and shook his head before taking Hiromi's reaction as a yes to come inside. “Noted. But I was rather hoping to invite you to my wedding.”
“Wedding?” The word alone made Hiromi's eyes flutter open and move forward to place his arms back on the edge of his desk with an expectant look.
“Yes. One month from now on I'll be a lawful husband.” He said, lifting his hidden arm to reveal a cup of coffee to Hiromi's gaze.
“Take this as a token of my appreciation.”
“Thanks. But I can't attend that supposed month.” He cleared his throat and gently loosened his dark green necktie to catch some air since the idea of attending gatherings was already suffocating him.
“Eh? This is the opportunity to have some fun, Higuruma-san.” A frown painted the intern’s face at the lawyer's rejection. Hiromi knew refusing an invitation was quite disappointing and rather rude.
“Fun is only for people your age.” He countered, scratching his head before meeting the boy's hopeful eyes.
“I highly object. The wedding is gonna be fun. My future wife suggested we should have our guests dance their asses.”
“Dance? You're giving me more reasons not to attend.”
“How come? My girl met an instructor to teach us this week for our couple dance.” The intern quickly grabbed his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a three folded flyer, unfolding it on top of Hiromi's desk.
“There. In case you change your mind and decide to take a chance on the dance floor. Find yourself a partner.”
Hiromi raised his eyebrow at the well-designed flyer for a second, expecting the picture to provide at least a decent explanation from this mess before his eyes landed on his intern’s playful face.
“I’m too busy to waste time.”
“How much more coffee do I have to get you for you to agree?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“None.” Hiromi said plainly, without hesitation whatsoever. “Get me the whole dispenser and you won't find me there.”
Quite a stubborn lawyer. Always choosing to spend his time bonding with boring papers that have done nothing for him but chaos.
Once his intern left the office, his head lowered back down onto the flyer that seemed to call his attention. This piece of paper stealing his focus from the cases he still has to study for tomorrow.
Dancing classes.. How ridiculous. That intern must be mocking him. A partner is a whole different topic too.
From below, the small trash basket next to his desk had his hand clutching the flyer, throwing it onto the container with fatigued energy radiating off from him.
What a joke.
He adjusted in his seat and returned his glasses back into its proper place on his face, positioned on the aquiline bridge of his nose.
Thoughtful enough from the intern, Hiromi was certain he would only wear the same suit he has been putting on all his life in the formal event.
Attending is a bad idea.
Ceremonies that take forever, unnecessary greetings from strangers he never met in his life, endless shots of champagne just to mask how rigid he was when it comes to socializing, and of course, glancing down at his silver watch to find the perfect time to escape.
By 11:03 pm, he shoved the folders aside until they piled up like a mountain—already planning his schedule for tomorrow before standing up and grabbing his brown briefcase.
This shit is heavy.
Much like the burdens he has been carrying in this industry.
Yet, no one bothered to ask him how he was.
If he was even sleeping alright at night without voices whispering to him when he failed to defend his clients. The innocents pleading for his help.
He lifted his arm slightly, causing a wince to come out of his lips when the briefcase almost tore off the bone from his stiff shoulder.
Hiromi doesn't need further cases nor additional names for him to examine in order to come up with a jaw-dropping argument in court, or even work overtime in this cramped office.
No, he has been paired with that routine already.
Exercise is what he needs.
A little bit of stretching, maybe.
His ears perked up from his sudden contemplation, replacing the hand carrying the case with his fine arm and using the sore one to grasp the crumpled flyer he threw away just minutes ago from the trash.
Attending a wedding is a bad idea.
Taking dance classes? Perhaps not so much..
Besides, going to a nearby salon to have a massage seems to cost more than taking dance practices considering how many sessions you are planning to have.
And for his age, he cringes at the idea of paying someone to massage his bare shoulders. It's not like he's a creep or anything.
Hiromi bit the inside of his cheek when his eyes were memorizing the address of the establishment then pushed the flyer into the chest pocket of his blazer and rushed his way to close the office.
XX Central Dance Studio.. it's not far from here. It's just down the street with a couple of steps to reach the building.
With his hand in his pocket, there was only one thing in his mind. Not the windy breeze of the night, or any of the public taxicab drivers honking to call his attention.
Just the uncomfortable cramp on his shoulder. That's all.
And the silly solution he came up with impulsively as he scanned every structure offering different services to their customers by every door he was gliding past.
Closed.
Closed.
Maybe now's a bad time to try something new like a teenager looking for an adventure in movies.
He halted in his steps under the glow of a street lamp with a cold smoke blowing off from his lips. He rubbed his forehead in resignation.
Most likely the studio is already closed at this hour. What was he expecting?
And as Hiromi was about to turn around and head to the usual route where his apartment was, a faint muffled sound behind him made him pause.
Where is that music coming from?
His head turned instinctively and gripped his briefcase tighter, his curious eyes wandering around until the bright light coming from the window above him gave him the answer he was looking for.
With that, his feet moved on their own and hurried to the stairs leading to the second floor from where he was hearing the slow melody, pulling him closer to the glass door that signals the studio was still welcoming those who are willing to practice.
However, as he managed to stop by the door, he took a shaky deep breath by how empty the large space inside was. With cushion-like couches, speakers placed on every corner of the room, and how there was no person in sight.
This shouldn't hurt if he comes in without asking first, right? They're open, so why not.
He held his breath and carefully put down his briefcase onto the floor as he took out the flyer from his chest pocket, double checking if he was in the right location.
“Welcome! I haven't seen you here before?”
A breathless feminine voice erupted from the deafening silence gripping the area and he fumbled with the flyer, his eyes widening of being caught being seen in such places like this.
“Uh, I was wondering if this studio is open?” Hiromi hid the paper in one go back to his blazer and slightly fixed his posture.
“Yes…” A slow answer replied to him, her eyebrows slightly furrowing in confusion by how he was questioning the obvious.
He cleared his throat and nodded plainly. “Right. I'm just surprised the studio is empty.”
“That's because my students already left two hours ago.” She smiled gently, her hand wiping off the beads of sweat on her neck with her towel.
“Do you happen to be the instructor here?”
“Damn right, I am.” She proudly agreed.
“And do you happen to accept older individuals?” He tilted his head slightly, failing to hide how impatient he was to receive an answer.
“To dance? Of course! Everybody is welcome to sway around a bit, you know. Do you wanna sign your name?” She raised her eyebrows.
Hiromi stared at the woman standing across from him, his eyes absentmindedly landing on her features before her voice snapped him back to reality.
“Mr..?” By the table near the wall studio mirror, she picked up the clipboard to her arms with a prepared pen.
He immediately averted his gaze when she looked over to him again and momentarily stumbled over his words as he took the pen from her fingers. “Hiromi Higuruma.”
She let out an appreciative hum then pointed over the registration paper. “Just sign over here with your printed name.”
He paused as he peered over the printed texts. “How much will be your sessions?” He said without looking away from the form.
“It depends on the sessions you want to have. But since I can tell it's your first time, I'll offer one free dance trial for you. Try to see if you like it. If you don't, you can walk away without spending a single penny.”
“One free session?” He looked up.
“Absolutely. Just set up the schedule and we'll begin with your tempo.” She gave a reassuring smile with a hand on her hip.
He rubbed his neck and inhaled sharply. “How about tomorrow night?”
“Of course. Just be here by eight or nine o'clock pm and I'll have you learn with my other students.”
Other students? He completely forgot that she's occupied with multiple dancers day and night. How will he be able to move freely then?
“Is it alright if we can have our trial tomorrow in private?”
“Nope. Only those who have subscriptions to my classes.”
He sighed dramatically and pressed his lips together, his mind debating whether he should even sign up for the experience he never thought he'd have.
“Very well.” Hiromi nodded after a couple of seconds, marking his signature with his handwritten name inked on the paper.
A beaming grin lit up her face as he handed her back the clipboard. “You're up for an adventure, Higuruma. See you tomorrow night.”
Oh this is going to be fun.
“Have a good night, Ms..?” Hiromi squinted his eyes slightly as he attempted to call her when she was already glancing down at her bare feet, his eyes following hers.
How come he didn't notice she wasn't wearing shoes at all? Hiromi swallowed the lump in his throat by how he was keeping his face neutral, suppressing a reaction.
The dancer nibbled on her lip upon being exposed. But instead of hiding in embarrassment like Hiromi expected the woman to do, she simply fixed her chin up to him. “Sorry about that. I was about to close.”
“That was impulsive of me. I should be the one apologizing for coming here late.”
“Not at all. It just happened that I'm not wearing any shoes in front of you at the moment. I've been dancing non-stop all day.” She shrugged.
Her feet must have been moving around 24/7, guiding every determined pupil of her class. Her job was clear that it wasn't exactly easy either, just by the evident callouses on the side of her toes and the tiny amount of reddish tint on her skin.
Hiromi pouted slightly at the sight. Unexpectedly, she extended an arm to him—finally murmuring her name.
He was almost thankful that he managed to note it in his head while the slow melody of the music was still playing, echoing through the studio.
“Don't worry, I wash my hands.” She teased as he let out a low snort at her wit, accepting her hand in his gently with a careful squeeze. It was almost unnoticeable.
“I’ll be looking forward to our lesson.”