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Tired, Dr. Xeno reluctantly picked up the papers from his desk, feeling numb. Usually, at the end of the day, there was the relief of someone who knows they did their best. But today hasn’t been like that, nor the previous days. Guess a love breakup will never be easy, despite having a couple of them on his back. Even with the advice of his colleagues to cut all contact, messages and other things from his ex...
He sighed, the words his partner said still were in his mind: You're so nice and neat, but something is missing... I don't know, it's like some spark, fire… I don't know. I'm sorry, Xeno.
It was nonsense to him, he was being kind and respectful, listening, for what? To be told that it was boring and bland. It wasn’t the first nor the last partner to tell him that, and he didn't know if that was true to some extent. His face felt hot and his breathing was erratic. He sprawled in his chair to try to calm down. A couple of strands were out from his neat pompadour.
An energetic masculine voice asked for him, knocking on his door. He let him enter.
"Dr. Xeno, I thought you'd be home by now," he said quietly.
"No, no Mr. Ishigami, I was cleaning my desk. I was about to leave, I was just relaxing for the moment."
The man stood in the doorway and looked at nothing, thinking for a few moments until he looked at him.
"Do you want to go for a drink?", Byakuya said suddenly.
"Uh? I was about…"
"Or if you don't want to go, I can buy you something else for another day."
Dr Xeno seated better in his chair; he didn't feel like going out. But he wouldn't lose anything if he went out with a friend and forgot for a moment about his breakup. Still, the show must go on despite the pain. He let Mr. Ishigami order for him. He was thankful that the enthusiastic astronaut did not notice his reluctance and irrational decision, and would like to be infected a little by his joy.
"It's been a pretty hectic week, but I think we've done well. Especially you, I've seen you here and there solving problems. Sorry if you feel obligated to be here out of courtesy, even though you want to rest."
"I don't feel obligated, Mr. Ishigami. I just wanted to go out and clear my head. I didn't give it much thought." He chuckled.
"What a surprise, is something wrong?"
"No, nothing happens."
"You don't look confident… I won't mince words, you don't look the same. You've been more into work and away from people. Are you feeling okay?"
"It's something I don’t want to share in detail, Mr. Ishigami. It's just a couple of turbulent affairs in my private life”, he replied, absentminded. It caused him a certain revulsion to bring up the subject.
The astronaut put his hand on his shoulder, looking at him with fatherly affection, I didn't need to guess what he meant: “If you need advice, I'll be there for you.”
"Thank you, Mr. Ishigami." He smiled shyly.
"You should consider trying a new hobby," said the astronaut. "You know, this is for going out and meeting new people whenever you feel ready. I would recommend you take dance classes, it helps a lot to better manage your emotions.”
“Sounds good, but the part of the emotions seems exaggerated.
“Oh Xeno…” he laughed, “don't believe me if you don't want to, but have you seen my son? It has helped him a lot with his social aspect and to have more ease. If you consider it, I would recommend that you give it a kick.”
Xeno shook his head, finishing his beer.
--
Out of all the available courses, there is a particularly eye-catching ad for evening tango classes. This dance academy must have the sort of budget to hire a graphic designer, it definitely looks professional. Hopefully the quality of the courses reflect just as much.
The couple in it show absolute competence at what they do, too.
A young woman, dressed in a bright red dress, lets her body incline at the rhythm of the lead, a blonde man in white suit who is looming upon her. The whole scene brims with dramatic flair: the dark background enhances their silhouettes, evoking the sensation of a Caravaggio painting; their legs, intertwined, seem to extend for ages. Their lasting impression is undeniable at this point.
As soon as any student sets foot on the academy, they would come to realize the people in the picture are not taken from a stock photo. Our heartbroken scientist is probably no exception, if the variety of stunned faces as both enter the studio is any indication.
"Good evening, everyone," the blonde man says. "You can relax now, the ad is real."
Everyone laughs in relief. Their bodies relax as well, as if their thoughts of possibly being scammed were read.
"So. My name is Stanley Snyder, I will be your instructor for this course. Twenty years of trajectory as a tango dancer, eight teaching at this academy."
Stanley gestures at the young woman to introduce herself. "I'm Luna Wright, also your tango instructor." Her speech is somewhat lighter in comparison. "Although it's my first year teaching at this academy, I was Stanley's student for years. I can 100% confirm you are in the best hands, you'll finish your course as totally capable dancers as I did."
"That's right" he nods, a hint of indifference to the praise that makes Luna wince just a bit. "Though each one of you may have applied for different reasons, the thrill of your first tango class always comes to stay. As Luna puts the aux cord, let's form our pairs. You are about to find out!"