It didn’t seem like they could even see each other. But I knew damn well they could see her. Their gazes were locked on her playful dancing.
The music picked up, and the woman danced toward Shibuya first.
She moved through the miniature city like she owned it—hips swaying, kimono blazing, that flirtatious smile never leaving her face. She ducked beneath elevated train tracks, twirled around the Shibuya 109 building, and suddenly. . .the first man caught her.
I blinked.
His hands found her waist, and he spun her into his arms.
Okay.
She gasped—surprised, delighted—and then he kissed her.
Oh my. This is going to be a romantic performance.
She melted into that kiss as the flute’s notes rose.
Her fingers curled into his chest. Her body arched against his. A giggle escaped her lips when he pulled back, breathless and stunned.
Giggling some more, she pressed a finger to his mouth. “Shh.”
Then she slipped away.
I smirked.
She danced backward, blowing him a kiss. Her laughter rose, turning light and musical.
The man stood frozen near Shibuya crossing with his painted face revealing a mask of shocked joy.
Seconds later, he began to dance on his side of the display.
Spinning.
Leaping.
His movements were full of bliss.
Like a man who'd just been touched by a divine goddess.
The woman twirled away through the city.
She wove between Ginza's towers, skipped over the miniature Sumida River.
Her kimono left trails of color in her wake.
She was playing.
Teasing.
Enjoying her life.
She danced toward Shinjuku.
The second man saw her coming.
Oh shit. I forgot about him.
He moved to intercept, cutting between the narrow alleys of Golden Gai.
