Blades & Ballet | Bucky x Reader

Two

I keep my gloved hands hidden in my jacket pockets as I weave my way through the crowded sidewalk. It's strange to be back in Brooklyn after all this time. The last time I was home, it was 1942, and I was a soldier about to go off to fight in the war. So much has changed since then. I've changed.

As I near the gap between two buildings, I hear two men arguing, and I look down the alley to find Yori, an elderly Asian man, shouting at man with curly black hair.

"Hey! Hey!" I interrupt, stepping between them. "Yori, what's goin' on? I thought we were getting lunch."

"Unique is putting his trash into my trash," Yori explains.

"It's trash," the other man, Unique, reasons.

"And the time has come for me to smack—" Yori moves to strike Unique, but I block him.

"Woah! Hang on," I urge before turning to Unique.

"Hey, man. I'm Unique," the man introduces, offering me his hand. I shake it. "It's like Monique, but it's got a 'U' in there for uniqueness."

"That's absurd," Yori mutters as he wanders further into the alley.

"Sorry," I say to Unique, apologizing for Yori's behaviour before following the elderly man. "Yori, you can't keep fighting with your neighbours. Come on, let's get some food."

"No, go away," Yori replies with a wave of his hand.

"But Izzy," I reason. "We always go to Izzy on Wednesday."

"I'm not in the mood today," Yori states.

"Hey, what if I buy?" I offer.

Yori stops in his tracks, turning to face me. "Fine. But no talking."

The restaurant is packed with people, but Yori and I manage to find a seat at the bar.

As we eat, Yori shows me today's newspaper. "Take a look. Nobody made it past ninety this week."

I shake my head. "So young. Such a shame."

Just then, the pretty waitress, Leah, appears behind the bar, removing empty plates and glasses.

"You guys didn't order the usual, huh?" she remarks with a smile. "Feeling a little adventurous?"

I don't reply, quickly looking her up and down before returning my attention to my meal.

"You should ask her out," Yori states. I give him a look, shaking my head, but Yori ignores me, turning back to Leah. "He would like to take you out on a date. Maybe to bingo, or a night of pinochle?"

"I'm really sorry about him," I apologize as Leah's gaze turns to me. Yori chuckles.

"Why are you sorry?" Leah smiles. "I'm game."

"Wow," I remark, surprised that Yori's tactic worked.

"Tomorrow night, then?" Yori asks.

"Tomorrow night's great," Leah chuckles. "Just maybe not pinochle."

"What's wrong with pinochle?" I jest.

"Yeah?" Yori adds with mock offense.

Leah's smile widens. "I have a shift, but if you wanna come back here, I should be done around 10:00pm."

I smile awkwardly as she walks away, quickly turning to Yori once she's out of earshot. "I can't believe you did that. It's a dance to these things. You can't... You gotta warm up, and I haven't danced since 1943... it feels like."

Yori doesn't respond, and I look over to see that he's staring at the plate of food in front of him, tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"My son... He loves the red bean mochi," Yori replies in Japanese before switching back to English. "Um... He had a job with a consulting company. And, uh, he was working abroad, and he was killed. The police said 'wrong place, wrong time,' but... I will never know what really happened to him. I felt it was strange." Yori pats his chest. "In here."

I don't reply, guiltily turning back to mylunch. Yori deserves to know the truth about what happened to his son. I justdon't know how to tell him that I'm the one who killed him.