KIRO’S STORY / CHAPTER 19 OF 36
Lonely dance
by hasira · about 4 min read
Kiro barely made it home.
He unlocked the door.
Walked inside.
Closed it.
That was apparently enough.
His jacket came off somewhere near the entrance.
One shoe made it halfway across the living room.
The other stayed near the door.
Kiro looked toward the stairs.
Warm bed.
Blanket.
Pillow.
He stared at the first step.
“...No.”
Five minutes later, he was asleep on the couch.
Still wearing his sweater.
One leg hanging off the side.
Phone somewhere under him.
Completely fucking gone.
Kiro woke late.
Not morning.
Oh shit late.
He opened one eye.
Sunlight filled the room.
His neck hurt.
His back hurt.
His tail was trapped underneath him.
“...Ow.”
He slowly sat up.
The house was quiet.
Very quiet.
Kiro rubbed his face.
Yesterday came back in pieces.
Susie's birthday.
The album.
The photo.
Her arm around him.
The hug at the door.
She wanted one with you.
Kiro immediately stood.
“Nope.”
He needed noise.
He found his phone underneath the couch cushion.
23% battery.
Good enough.
Kiro connected it to the speakers.
Scrolled through the music.
Then stopped.
“Perfect.”
He pressed play.
The first sound filled the room.
Kiro looked at the volume.
Then pushed it all the way up.
The speakers exploded.
The coffee table vibrated.
Something small on one of the shelves moved dangerously close to the edge.
Kiro stared at it.
“...Maybe.”
He lowered the volume one step.
Paused.
Put it back to maximum.
“Fuck it.”
The whole house started shaking.
Kiro smiled.
Then started singing along.
Not performing.
Not trying to sound good.
Just singing because he knew it.
Loud.
Too loud.
His voice disappeared into the music anyway.
He moved through the living room.
One step.
Another.
His tail followed the beat.
Then his shoulders.
Then the rest of him.
A small turn.
Another.
A stupid little bounce when the rhythm changed.
His little lonely dance.
Across the living room.
Into the kitchen.
Back again.
No audience.
No Susie.
No Rin.
Nobody asking questions.
Nobody looking at him.
Well.
Kiro noticed you.
He stopped mid-step.
Stared.
“...You don’t count.”
Then continued.
He danced while making breakfast.
Burned the toast.
Didn't care.
He sang while cleaning yesterday's mug.
Nearly dropped a plate when he turned too quickly.
Caught it against his chest.
Silence.
Kiro looked at the plate.
Then at you.
“We don’t talk about that.”
The song ended.
For half a second, the house became quiet.
Kiro immediately hit replay.
That was most of his day.
Music.
Too loud.
Bare feet against the floor.
Bad singing.
Food whenever he remembered.
At some point, he changed from his sleep sweater into an oversized shirt because he was sweating.
His hair became a mess.
One ear stayed folded strangely for almost an hour.
He didn't notice.
Didn't care.
He danced through the hallway.
Jumped onto the couch.
Nearly fell off.
Kept singing under his breath when another song started.
Then louder when he knew that one too.
Sometimes other songs played.
Sometimes he returned to this one.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His lonely dance became increasingly stupid.
That was the point.
No correct movements.
No one to impress.
No worrying whether his clothes looked right.
No checking his face.
No wondering what somebody thought.
Just Kiro moving through his own little house until he was breathless and laughing at himself.
At one point, he caught his reflection in the dark television screen.
Hair fucked.
Shirt crooked.
Tail everywhere.
He looked ridiculous.
Kiro smiled.
“Nice.”
And kept dancing.
By evening, the sky outside had turned dark.
Kiro lay upside down across the couch.
Head hanging over one side.
One leg over the backrest.
Completely exhausted again.
The song played quietly now.
Not maximum volume anymore.
His ears had suffered enough.
Kiro stared at the ceiling.
The house was messy.
One couch cushion was on the floor.
His breakfast plate was still on the table.
He had accomplished absolutely nothing.
Kiro smiled.
Good.
The song ended.
Silence slowly filled the house again.
Kiro stayed upside down.
Listened to it.
For once, the quiet didn't immediately become something else.
No voices.
No memories.
No questions.
Just quiet.
Kiro reached blindly toward his phone.
Found it.
Pressed replay.
The music started again.
His foot moved slightly to the beat.
Then his tail.
Kiro closed his eyes.
One last little lonely dance.