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Applause from everyone.

We both sit on the grass to watch the next dancer take the stage, a young woman who, like me, is dressed in a traditional kimono, but unlike me, this girl has strong and dramatic makeup. Her face and neck are so dusty that she appears white as a ghost and her lips are painted a bright shade of red. The stark contrast between the white, red, and jet black of her hair tied up in a bun makes her look not human at all, more like a porcelain doll placed on invisible strings by a puppeteer. Even her movements are limited, like those of a puppet whose joints can only move so far in any direction.

This is Kyomai's dance.

It's like a slow interpretive dance with various poses and hand gestures that tell a story. It is the opposite pole of the dance that preceded it, the dance of Odori.

As the night darkens, everything begins to calm down and the sakura trees are lit up with paper lanterns, giving the hanami experience a different vibe, one