"How are you?" "Quite."
In such an unusual conversation, the two exchange a couple of words with each other. They were grasping each other's distance.
If we were to be a little more precise, we would have reassured each other. I thought they couldn't help but resent me the worst, but they don't resent me enough to put themselves on the table.
But what's left of this sense of distance is that we can't step into each other.
Then I called her, "Then Marielle."
It's weird that I don't want her to see this play right now, but I was so confident in how complete it was.
"Yes."
"Is it time for you to dance? Let Cayenne take a look at your opera."
"... ok"
"Thank you"
Is it because of the nervousness in your heart that you took a beat? Or was it because I was feeling something?
Marielle turned to the other side of the bonfire, keeping her eyes closed for a while and her hands wide open.
……
Cayenne is burning the look into her eyes. Usually we'd talk lightly about "that's something we're looking forward to," but now it seemed like Marielle wasn't going to miss everything she danced and painted.
There is no blink in that eye.
Eventually it seemed Marielle was ready and she took one quiet deep breath.
It is the beginning of theatre.
"... There used to be a woman somewhere who liked stories. Name's Maria. She was an innocent girl, and I didn't doubt she would ever be a princess again."
Marielle's monologue. This is the dialogue at the beginning of her play.
Marielle, combining her hands and whispering to God to pray, stared up without moving.
"Maria grew up isolated from the world's malice. She was a boxed girl. Maria, who grew up fast, was twelve years old at this time…"
Quietly Marielle untied her hand. Gracefully spreading her hand to the side, she stood still for a moment and gently spun from it.
Start of the dance.
At the same time, the lyrics spin her past.
"Can you be me, too, princess of the story?
Always a happy story princess...... "
That sings up my longing for the story. The scene seemed to come to my attention when my daughter, who was old enough to tell me how to get emotional with the princesses in the story.
Though not the voice of the soprano, its gentle singing and dance lightness gives the full appearance of a teenager.
(... If this is the case, I can go)
I was sure as I watched that Marielle dance. Her dancing and singing are so harmonious that it is almost perfect that she spins the story alive and without this.
I've seen it so many times, I'm almost drawn to Marielle's dancing and singing.
……
I'm sure Cayenne next door feels that way, too.
I felt completely into Marielle's dance and song and stayed motionless.
It's not frightening, it's listening to Marielle's past expressed from it. I seriously listen to such beautiful old stories about what girlhood she had and what she had in mind.
Eventually the scene proceeded, wounding his face and entering the circus.
"Maria was only fifteen years old at this time, and living was a cautious thing, but she was not dissatisfied with her mother and her two lives. Still, Maria can't help but think. My mother would have lived much wealthier if I had been independent of this house.... a beautiful mother with no scratches on her face, and a mother who even looked aristocratic from her daughter Maria. Maria thinks she wants her beautiful girlfriend to live wealthy..."
How much Marielle suffered, how sad she was, they blend into a quiet, smooth dance.
For the first time here Cayenne shrugged, "Right......"
With a look of love. Not here. In a way that looks at the distance. As it was, Cayenne returned silently once again.
(Marielle's expressiveness is already this at this stage, so when it's done, it's bound to be great)
I heard a lot of saliva swallowing. I can see my expectations swelling in my chest myself.
(... It was an improvisation proposal, but I can do this. Definitely. If I can't do this, I can't do it any other way)
Eventually, the script welcomes the original development.
Marielle played it with all her heart. "... I'm talking about a stupid woman," until the last scene where she snaps quietly.
The theatre ends.
Me and Cayenne didn't even move until Marielle quietly lowered her head and woke up again. That was such a great play, I think.
"... it's over"
That's what I said, she comes back from beyond the bonfire. (1) From the peace of mind after work, shoulder tension, etc., is somehow relieved.
If you look next door.
"... wow"
I could see Cayenne squirming in such a sigh.
"Oh, no doubt, you'll take it."
"Hehe, thanks, Cayenne"
"Definitely, take it"
"Yes, I'm glad."
"Oh, definitely"
Repeating the same words all the time, he seemed to speak from my heart thinking so.
Or are you talking in the hope that it will come true?
"Definitely, now you were, perfectly, the star of the story"
"... thanks"
"Oh, definitely."
I could see the incineration was shaking.
The two faces were illuminated for only a moment, and a diagram could be made that looked seriously at them without this.
"... Cayenne, me, I'll dance"
"Oh."
And that's just silent.
(... Already?)
I thought I should leave now. Only people who share these two memories can be in this space. I'm sure you do. Or maybe it's more of an atmosphere of different connotations, but either way, I'm just in the way here.
If I were in the position of the two of you, you'd want me to leave you alone, or think about it, without saying a word as it were, leaving the two of you lit by the incendiary and taking you to the tent.
"... hey"
And in the tent, what are you guys doing, I ran into a number of slaves.
Meena was smiling like a pull, but Hetty was in a rather grand, sorry, worried, colorful apology and deceptive operation.
The trio of little ones drive normally. Iri was excited, Nel was sober, but Yufi couldn't help but notice.
I was a little surprised by Rutz. I'm sorry, he kills his voice and apologizes, I don't know, you got fat, this guy, and I have to think of growing up for better or worse.
I certainly don't recall forbidding you to act, saying that you should not watch your evening practice with Marielle.
That's also why I didn't pay attention to Nell and Lutz sneaking around.
But it was unexpected that we would get a dignified peek so far.
Or here, it's not a tent for luxury slaves or junior slaves, it's a tent for reception at the store. I'm not forbidden to come in, but I dare you to see the burning fire in the middle of the night. I don't think you're willing to peek.
I thought I'd ask him things like that, but well I decided to forgive him for what he did normally. Except one.
"Hetty, you start tomorrow, twice as much singing"
"Why me alone?"
"You were the only one who had malice."
"Wow......!
I tried to interact with her in a whisper so that she wouldn't be distracted outside, but it's her conversational ingenuity that still tells me her anger cleverly. By the way, he thought it was serious, and he grabbed his arm and protested, "It doesn't even double the amount of time you spend putting me up". Is that me, too, being approached by Ti? and for a moment I just got pompous, but time didn't wait for me.
"Hey husband, it's time to go home..."
"Ah."
There was Cayenne in the back.
It opens the entrance to the dark screen and looks like it notices all the slaves in the tent, stiff as it is.
"... husband, it's too tough to retaliate for a peephole..."
Cayenne laughs bitterly as it is.
No, these guys were peeking at me on their own, not on my instructions.