…No wonder she had to drag someone along.
It’s meant for couples.
Standing at the entrance of the Kabuki theater and watching the audience take their seats, Kato Akira finally figured out why Mr.
C.B.
had dragged him here.
If he remembered correctly, according to the game’s setting, Mr.
C.B.
genuinely loved Kabuki and often went out to watch various performances during her free time.
Plus, since she lived alone, she didn’t have a curfew to worry about.
Yeah, Mr.
C.B.
definitely didn’t have a problem.
The one with a problem was him—a janitor who lived in the staff dorms.
(Who is the adult here anyway?!)
After secretly grumbling in his heart, Akira found a two-person seat and sat down.
Mr.
C.B., who had been completely silent while they were in the elevator, finally let out a soft sigh of relief and sat comfortably in the seat next to him.
“Phew…
Thank goodness.”
“Ah?
Was there something to be nervous about just now?”
“The elevator.
I’m just a little uncomfortable with them.”
Sitting in her chair, Mr.
C.B.
looked at Akira beside her and flashed a slightly awkward smile.
“Surprising, right?
I’m actually not very good with elevators.
But I really wanted to see this Courtesan Kabuki performance today, so I had to ask for your help.”
“Honestly, if you had just asked me directly, I probably wouldn’t have refused you.”
“There you go again, Akira.
You definitely would have said you still had work to do, so you couldn’t just casually go out and play, right?”
“…”
She’s actually right.
Looking at the slightly pale-faced Mr.
C.B., Akira thought about it and realized he really couldn’t refute her words.
Compared to hanging out with an “old timer” like Mr.
C.B.—who had already finished her main racing career and could only run in the Dream Trophy exhibition matches—Akira genuinely wanted to focus on becoming a Trainer so he could find a promising horse girl to train.
If given the choice between being dragged out by Mr.
C.B.
to watch some damn Kabuki performance or going to the woods to meet his two bottom-tier little horse girls, he would pick the woods almost every time.
Focus on the stage.”
Not minding his silence, Mr.
C.B.
smiled softly at Akira, then turned her head to stare intently at the rising stage.
It was a Sewamono (contemporary setting play) and Kyogen (comic theater), featuring a courtesan.
A heavily made up, extravagantly dressed, burly Kabukimono actor used complex stage props to perform a love story between an Edo-period courtesan and a samurai.
The story was about a down and out samurai saved by a courtesan.
However, the samurai completely disregarded the courtesan’s sincere feelings.
Obsessed only with power and ambition, he ultimately fell into the abyss.
To be honest, Akira wasn’t too interested in this kind of culture.
In his eyes, the Kabuki performers were all just burly men.
Their exaggerated body movements, the noisy music, and the stage mechanics combined to create a living Ukiyo-e painting.
But this kind of “beauty” felt very bizarre to him.
These plays were meant to depict the secular lives of commoners, yet Akira—an actual struggling commoner—didn’t like this kind of artistic creation at all.
He preferred things that were simple and direct.
Looking around, the majority of the people who were truly savoring the performance were dressed in luxurious, expensive clothes.
There were a few other uncultured bumpkins like Akira who had somehow slipped in.
When their eyes met, they could only share an awkward smile and wait for the time to pass.
This type of Kabuki performance wasn’t particularly long, lasting only about a short hour.
Soon, the stage shifted, and the story reached its climax.
The courtesan, having given her entire heart only to be met with the samurai’s cold cruelty, finally raised her hairpin.
The play ended in a splash of crimson red.
Although he didn’t care much for Kabuki itself, the stage full of crimson and the courtesan’s final tragic twist made Akira feel inexplicably uncomfortable.
It made him instinctively want to get out of there quickly.
“…Alright, it’s over.
Let’s go.”
To be honest, that acting was a bit too scary.
Stretching his slightly sore legs, Akira stood up to leave, but he suddenly felt a tugging force on his shirt hem.
Turning his head, he saw Mr.
C.B.
still sitting in her seat, clutching his shirt with teary eyes.
Feeling the somewhat understanding and tolerant gazes of the people around them, Akira didn’t dare just forcefully drag the crying Triple Crown winner out of her seat.
And so, he waited on the upper floor of Tokyo Tower for another dozen minutes.
By the time the sky started taking on the colors of dusk, Mr.
C.B.
finally let out a soft sigh and returned to her usual, easygoing self.
“Sorry about that, showing you such an embarrassing side of me.
I was just a little moved by the story.”
“Is that so?
As long as you liked it, it’s fine.”
The original prototype for this script was actually a story about an Uma Musume and her samurai master.”
Leaning against Akira with slightly unsteady steps, Mr.
C.B.
stared at the elevators moving up and down.
She clung to his arm, talking to distract herself as they walked into the elevator and pressed a button.
They weren’t heading straight to the ground floor.
They were going to eat dinner here at Tokyo Tower, and she would finally reveal her true reason for seeking him out.
While waiting in the elevator, Mr.
C.B.
recounted the Uma Musume version of the story in a slightly trembling voice.
Compared to the bloody play they had just watched, the Uma Musume version was actually much gentler than expected.
An Uma Musume who served as a retainer and bodyguard had long been secretly in love with a samurai.
She fought tirelessly for him, protecting his life on the battlefield.
However, the samurai cared only for fame, wealth, and status.
He constantly charged into the front lines, even sustaining severe injuries.
Finally, the horse girl couldn’t bear it anymore and found an opportunity.
One day, the samurai drank too much.
To relieve his loneliness and to find common ground with his superiors, he decided to break his vows and seek out a courtesan.
But the courtesan he found was actually the horse girl in disguise.
After they consummated their relationship, the horse girl beat the samurai to his knees, forcing him to sober up and recognize exactly who she was.
Ultimately, under the witness of his superior, the samurai and the Uma Musume were married.
Sounds like a happy story, doesn’t it?
“But the final ending is that the samurai was still swallowed by his own ambition.
He completely neglected the horse girl who had dedicated everything to him.
Instead, he used her to recruit other horse girls to achieve his grand goals.”
“He even forced her to constantly undergo high-intensity training and take part in dangerous activities.
Until finally, one day, the horse girl miscarried.”
“Looking at her dead child, she killed the power-hungry samurai, and then chose to end her own life.”
“That is the true story of the ‘Courtesan’ before it was simplified and censored.”
Having fully recovered, Mr.
C.B.
sat at a dining table lit by a scented candle.
Looking at the extremely uncomfortable Akira, she smiled and said:
“Uma Musume are creatures capable of very deep, long lasting devotion.
I hope you remember that, Akira.”
“So, can you finally tell me why you’ve set your sights on me?”
Trying to change the subject, huh?
What does this crazy, bloody story have to do with me?!
Why you are targeting me is the most important part here!
Staring at Mr.
C.B., who seemed to be dropping deep, meaningful hints, Akira completely ignored the so-called story and steered the conversation back to the main topic with a dead serious face.