Crimson Beneath Your White Paint

Year 1965

The train slows as the announcement comes over the speaker that they're reaching the final station.

Shintaro watches the scenery through the window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, and lets out a small, excited breath. The view has changed from quiet outskirts to busier city streets. Traditional rooftops appear among more modern buildings. The evening sun makes everything look golden. Cherry trees stand along the riverside. People walk everywhere. Some ride bicycles. Others carry shopping bags.

It's been a while since he visited Kyoto last time - it was probably during the time they had a school trip there. Back then, Kyoto was just somewhere they went for a few days to see tourist attractions before returning home.

But this time, Shintaro is not just visiting. He is going to live here. Eight months, maybe more, and it's going ot be all about kabuki rehearsals and later performances.

It doesn't feel even real yet. The unreal feeling stays with him as the train approaches the platform.

It's also wild to think that the moment he stepped into the train in Kanazawa, everything from then on would be totally new to him.

Kanazawa had always been home. Shintaro grew up there, found kabuki there, and worked his way up step by step. It all started with curiosity about that traditional art form, but soon became serious as he realized his love for it. He fell into kabuki without really noticing it. And after that, there was no going back.

Slowly, after years of training and performing, his name started to mean something, and people in certain kabuki circles began to recognize him.

It was, of course, only a regional kabuki that Kanazawa had to offer. The stages were small. The audience was mostly older locals who came every year. All in all, it was local and small-scale, and nothing that people across the country would talk about.

Kyoto is different. This is where kabuki has the longest history and where certain surnames are known to have been part of it for generations. The Love Suicides at Sonezaki, the play he is joining as the male lead, was born here, as well. It is one of the most legendary pieces in the repertoire. He can't believe he was chosen for the role.

Shintaro opens a brochure of the old kabuki play of Courtesan and Stork in his hand, and the face of Kyomoto Masaki meets him.

There are people in kabuki you respect, and then there are people who feel like part of the art itself. Masaki is one of those. A name with generations behind it. Someone whose career Shintaro has closely followed for years. And now, through this production, he will have a direct connection to him. Because Kyomoto Taiga, Masaki's son, will play the lead onnagata role.

Shintaro has known Taiga's name for a long time. Being Masaki's only son, he's the heir to the Kyomoto family. And because he's the next in line, he obviously practiced kabuki since childhood. Shintaro has not only heard about him but has also seen recordings and read several reviews of his performances. Taiga has already been performing many times alongside his father, but only recently has he gotten more lead onnagata roles.

It's going to be an honor to work with him, Shintaro thinks.

Shintaro himself isn't from a kabuki family. There has never been a legacy behind him, absolutely no name to rely on. His family is ordinary people with normal jobs; his father works as a salaryman, while his mother prepares school lunches, and that's about it. Yet, in a way, Shintaro takes that as something to be proud of. Sometimes he thinks he has worked harder than those born into it. That while others like Kyomotos have their names, he only has his own effort and skill.

Shintaro puts the brochure away, and his fingers tighten excitedly around the handle of his suitcase as the train finally comes to a stop.

His future waits just outside.

-----

Minami-za theater is right next to the Shijo Bridge. The area around it is lively, with lots of people passing through the busy main street. The river next to it looks absolutely beautiful in the morning light.

Shintaro has seen the building before, but standing in front of it now feels different. It is hard to believe that this will be the stage where he performs. Minami-za is just so legendary.

"Morimoto-san?"

Shintaro turns. A man in his sixties, in a suit and with neatly combed hair, approaches him.

"I'm Nishida from Minami-za. We spoke on the phone."

"Ah, yes!" Shintaro brightens instantly, bowing. "Thank you for coming to get me."

Nishida bows back. "Of course, of course. Welcome to Kyoto. Come on in, I'll take you around."

Inside, the theater building is even more overwhelming. The lobby is already wide and well-maintained. Posters from past performances and previous actors line the walls, and the slightly dim inside lighting highlights them just nicely.

The stage area is larger than anything Shintaro is used to. Nishida leads him through it, pointing out stage mechanics, historical details, and how certain performances have been adapted over the years. Shintaro tries to take it all in, nodding along, but his attention keeps drifting because there's so much to look at. From one detail to the next.

"The stage has been able to rotate since the Edo period," Nishida explains as they walk beneath it. He gestures toward parts of the mechanism. "And there are multiple trapdoors depending on the scene."

After that, they move deeper into the building. Even the backstage area is more impressive than Kanazawa's, with wide corridors and high ceilings that could accommodate large set pieces.

"Alright, here we are," Nishida says, stopping at the dressing room corridor. "You'll be sharing the dressing room with-"

Before he can finish his sentence, a door slides open nearby.

"Ah, perfect timing!"

A man steps out, and Shintaro recognizes him instantly. Kyomoto Masaki is tall with a strong, calm presence. He wears a simple dark kimono that looks elegant on him, while his black hair, streaked with silver, is swept back.

Masaki smiles as he spots Shintaro. "Ah, good day. You must be Morimoto Shintaro."

Shintaro bows deeply quickly. "Yes, that's me! It's an honor to meet you, Kyomoto-san. Thank you for your guidance."

Masaki waves a hand, dismissing the formality. "No need for that. I've heard a lot about you and your performances."

"You have?" Shintaro asks.

"Mm," Masaki's eyes crinkle slightly. "Good things."

Before Shintaro can respond, Masaki glances over his shoulder. "Taiga."

Taiga steps out from behind Masaki.

For a moment, Shintaro just stares. He has seen recordings before, but it is completely different in real life.

Taiga is... really beautiful.

The thought comes to Shintaro instantly. There is something absolutely striking about Taiga's appearance that does not carry through the screen. He looks like he's made for onnagata roles.

Taiga wears a dark blue kimono that falls over his slim frame, the color making his pale skin stand out. His facial features resemble his father's, but they are softer, likely due to his younger age.

"Taiga, this is Morimoto Shintaro," Masaki says. "He'll be the one joining you for The Love Suicides at Shonezaki."

Taiga's eyes slowly move to Shintaro. The look on his face doesn't look warm. He looks assessing, as if he's measuring Shintaro from head to toe, which makes Shintaro feel slightly uncomfortable. But Shintaro bows and smiles at him anyway, wanting to be friendly and make a good first impression for his colleague.

"Nice to meet you!"

Taiga gives a small nod.

"Likewise," he says, but his voice sounds cold and not very sincere.

Masaki, blissfully or deliberately ignoring the awkward tension, claps his hands once.

"Well then, you two will have plenty of time to get acquainted. First rehearsal will be tomorrow already, and you'll be sharing the dressing room."

Taiga gives a small, tight smile that does not reach his eyes. Then he turns and goes back into the dressing room without another word. Shintaro watches behind him, raising his eyebrows a little.

"He seems nice," he comments to Nishida, because he doesn't know what else to say.

-----

Shintaro steps into the dressing room, sets his suitcase down near the wall, and looks around. He barely has time to settle before the door slides open behind him.

Taiga walks in and sits down by his makeup table. He doesn't greet Shintaro. In fact, he doesn't say anything and acts like Shintaro wouldn't be present in the room.

In the end, Shintaro decides to break the silence.

"So," he starts, trying to sound as easy and friendly as ever, "We'll be working closely together."

"Yes," Taiga says flatly.

"You've performed here before, right?"

"Yes."

Short answers. No effort to continue. Yet, Shintaro decides to keep going anyway.

"Then I'll be relying on you!" he says with a smile.

Taiga stops moving. His hand rests on the table. When he turns to look at Shintaro, his face looks bored.

"I think you should rely on your own ability," he says flatly. "That would be more appropriate."

Shintaro blinks. He then gives a quiet, awkward laugh.

"Right. Sure. I mean, I will. I just said that since you already know how things run here."

"I do," Taiga says bluntly.

There's a short pause before he adds, "And I expect you to keep up."

Then he turns again towards his mirror without saying anything more, effectively ending the conversation with that.

They spend the next few minutes in total silence. Shintaro crouches down to open his suitcase instead, pulling out the training yukata he was told to bring. Now and then, he catches Taiga looking at him through the mirror. The looks are quick, but cold and intense, as if Taiga is judging him.

Luckily, soon, a voice calls from the hallway, breaking the awkward silence.

"The rehearsal room is ready for you to start."

Shintaro grabs the edge of the sliding door and pulls it open. "Coming!"

Taiga walks past him quickly through the open door before Shintaro manages even to step out.

-----

The rehearsal room is a big tatami room. When Shintaro and Taiga enter, heads turn. All the actors and instrumentalists nod in greeting.

Shintaro offers a polite bow at everyone. "Good morning."

Taiga says nothing but bows, as well. Then he walks past everyone and takes a seat at one of the cushions without looking at anyone. Shintaro sits down as well.

A moment later, Masaki steps in, followed by the director. The atmosphere in the room straightens immediately.

"Let's begin," the director says, settling into place. "We'll start with a full reading. No blocking yet. I want to hear the rhythm. Let's start with you, Morimoto-san. From the beginning."

Shintaro stands up and comes to the middle of the room. He starts his lines.

At first, he focuses on keeping his breathing steady, and he notices he's nervous. Still, as the scene progresses, something begins to settle. The rhythm of the dialogue pulls him in. He finds the emotional thread of his character and lets it guide him forward.

Taiga keeps looking at him, arms crossed in front of him with a tilted head, looking judgmental.

Then it is his turn.

Taiga's made-up female voice is softer than Shintaro expected, but it carries loudly across the room. There is a nice control to it, and every word lands exactly where it should. Taiga's tone conveys the quiet sadness his character is meant to carry.

The room seems to lean toward him without anyone moving. Shintaro also finds himself being completely drawn in as he follows Taiga.

By the time Taiga finishes his lines, everyone's silent. That was just astonishing.

The director nods. "Good. Then from the next scene."

The rehearsal continues.

After a while, the director calls for a short break. He excuses himself and goes to the side of the room to have a talk with Masaki. Shintaro glances at Taiga.

"Hey," he says, offering a small smile. "That was really good. You did well."

Taiga looks up at him.

"I don't need validation from you," he says.

Shintaro blinks. "Ah… I didn't mean it like that. I was just—"

"I know what you meant," Taiga cuts in. "And you should just focus on your own performance before commenting on mine."

For a moment, Shintaro stares at him. Then he lets out a small, awkward breath, something between a laugh and disbelief.

"Right," he says. "Sorry."

Taiga's gaze lingers on him for a second longer, as if measuring his reaction. Then he looks away.

Shintaro sits back slightly and does his best not to roll his eyes.

Okay. So Taiga is not just a little distant or shy. Talented, yes. But he is actually quite an unpleasant person.

Shintaro utters a quiet sigh through his nose. The next months are surely going to be interesting.