Dance of song | Soukoku dance au |

Met by Chance

The air strung heavily with chills brushing past in easy-going winds. The last few leaves slipped onto the ground. A brunette ran his hand over his arms with a shiver. He hated both the cold and the heat of seasons, much preferring the mid-days of spring and autumn. Those seasons were pretty, and he could get away from life for a bit. The white cloth wrapped around his arms scrunched underneath the sleeves of his jacket uncomfortably as his feet carried him to stand several feet from the car. An expressionless and unreadable face wrapped his features as he waited with patience. The next to exit the car, hopped a small girl, his half-sibling. Her hair, perfectly thick and full of elegant blond curls, complimented the blue hue of her eyes, which reflected the cloudless sky. "Osamu-Kun, hold my plushy!" her voice screeched into Dazai's ears as he pretended not to hear the eleven-year-old sibling. It wasn't that he hated her, he simply disliked being here. He'd rather be in his room or hanging out with his friend Oda, than going to a dance recital of all places. He liked music, but he prided in the words that flowed with the music. Sure dance was another expression, but Dazai could never understand the hype around the art form.

"Osamu, help your sister out, will you?" Dazai's eyes trailed to a woman, her hair the same elegant color as Elise's. The mother-daughter pair not only looked alike; but acted the same; spoiled by his father's money.

"Listen to her or when we get home-" the old man didn't get to finish his sentence. Mori's voice was interrupted by his son's hiss.

"I've got it." He latched his hands onto the items Elise stretched out for him to hold, one of them being an autograph book. The things money could get you always went over his head. He never understood why his father was so obsessed with that. Just as he didn't understand why this woman came into his life eleven years ago and gave birth to this thing. He was 19, almost twenty, and this child was only 11, quite the age difference.

"Osamu, she goes to all of your recitals. She's getting to perform against one of the top schools in the country, it's only fair." The honey-laced voice of the woman pierced his eardrums like chalk on paper.

"Isn't it mom's weekend with me? I shouldn't even be here." The drop of his father's face and sharp inhale gave Dazai a spark of joy. He loved being able to stab him where it hurts.

"Osamu, we had a chat and an agreement that you would spend this week with your real family. -Real family his ass, his mother may baby and coddle him, but at least she cared about him, even if she didn't have custody and if Mori wanted to, could remove her from his life. -Elsie wanted you to come to see her perform her solo. We can have this talk later, we're in public." As usual, all Mori thought about were opinions. What did the public think? What were they saying?

Silently, Dazai followed them into the building looking around at the fancy tiles, and the families gathered. Parents smiling down on their children and helping them with makeup. Even the boys were letting their mothers do their faces. If he'd tried to put such things on his face, he'd be scolded and grounded as a child. It was only recently that he got to see his mother again, and already the man calling himself his father talked as if she were the terrible role model. Not the cheating scum father who only let him sing for publicity. Their deal, when Dazai was 21, he'd get a degree in something useful, business or health, that didn't matter. Dazai tended to tune the world out, his headphones in as he thought up lyrics. His feet followed his supposed family, taking a seat with them as Elise's mother took her to get ready with the rest of the children from her division. The competition would be the tell to who joined the big team. At least that's what Dazai understood from Elise's rant. There were quite a few big names present in the competition, and getting in was a hassle. Elise had made the cut by half a point, whatever that meant.

"You could try to look like you're glad to be here." snapping from his thoughts and the music, Dazai glanced at Mori. "I know very well you're an excellent actor, so smile before you give us a bad wrap." Sighing, Dazai placed on his act. A cheerful smile and content expression to replace the broken and unnatural expression he usually wore.