Promptober 2026 Day 17: Woodwind
Through the gaps in the blinds, the light of the Tokyo nightlife became indistinct, colorful projections on the wall of the tiny apartment.
Maki lay awake, watching them.
In the last year, she had spent more nights than not in this twelfth-story apartment.
Three of the cubes in the closet held her things - underwear, t-shirts, a skirt. Her toothbrush was in the cup on the bathroom sink. And most damningly, on the long, low shelf by the door was an empty space for Maki’s trumpet case - right underneath a similar-sized space where Solène kept her flute.
Yet despite all of these traces of her presence, Maki never quite felt comfortable in this apartment. It wasn’t that it was too small for two people - it was, but Maki had shared tents a quarter of the size of this place with twice as many people and still slept in perfect comfort.
It was the same problem that she had at home– that is, at her parents’ house in Toshima.
In her back was an imaginary metal rod that ran from her scalp down to the tip of her tailbone.
The rod kept her back straight, her head back, her shoulders square, her smile soft and polite. She often forgot that it was there, and there had been places and times in her life when she had suddenly realized that the rod was gone, that she could slouch and bend over and stretch and suddenly she’d go from a quiet, demure chuckle to an unrestrained guffaw or even a snort.
She had hoped this could have been one of those places. She still hoped that, one day, it would.
But it wasn’t yet.
Even after Solène stole her keys and returned them with an extra one clipped onto the keyring, she still felt like a foreigner overstaying her visa. Any moment, they were going to break in the door and send her home.
And, there, speak of the devil - Maki heard the footsteps echoing up the stairwell long before the door to the apartment opened. For a moment, Solène stood framed in the doorway, ringed by the dirty yellow light of the hallway - then she was inside, and the door closed, and the room was dark again.
“Sacre, je pensais que j'aurais plus– How are you always beating me home?” Solène laughed, dropping her handbag on the ground and hanging up her coat. “I thought for sure I would win tonight.”
“Desoleé,” Maki responded in her awkward, still-stilted French. She sat up. “The dress rehearsal ended early because they needed to run some wiring for the lights… or something like that, I don’t know.”
“Ahhh.” Solène stepped past the bed and, for a moment, the light peeking through the blinds made the white sequins and gems on her dress sparkle. “It’s so dark in here. Do you want me to turn a light on?”
“Not yet.”
Something in Maki’s voice made Solène pause. She could hear, but not see, the sly, cajoling smile spreading over Solène’s face as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
“You’ve been waiting long?”
“...not too long.” Maki reached out, and her fingers brushed against Solène’s bare shoulder. Her skin was very soft. “Where did you go tonight?”
“Ikebukuro,” Solène said. “Le Coq Roti? Do you know of it?”
With her fingers on the zipper of Solène’s dress, Maki blinked in surprise. “Actually - yes,” she said. “In… Sunshine City, isn’t it? How was it?”
Solène considered the question. “It was fine,” she said. “The food was good. The wine was good. But I did not care for the company. You remember last month, I told you of my friend from high school being in the country? Well, this friend, it was her cousin, and her husband. The woman, Angelique, she is a lovely girl, but she is marrying the husband several years ago, and he is, ah…” She tilted her head noncommittally.
“A bore?” Maki smiled.
“Not so much a bore as a boor,” Solène said. “At any rate - after dinner, Angelique says she has an extra ticket for a music show, would I like to go? And I do not know the band*,* but I am thinking, ah, well, it is several hours until Maki-chan is done with her rehearsal, and so, with nothing to do, I go.”
“Were they any good?” Maki lifted the dress gently from Solène’s shoulders and then, having divested her, slid both of her arms around her waist.
“To be honest, I only stayed for the opening band. You will not belie– ah! Your hands are freezing.”
“Oh, no,” Maki murmured.
For a while, the night drew in around them, and the world outside was quiet.