Her empty gaze reflected the dazzling splendor and thick makeup on the stage, as if she had forgotten the unreasonable foggy environment surrounding her, unusually quiet, simply sitting properly.
"Kabuki, huh..."
To tell the truth, oban Himezuki didn't like Kabuki performances.
In fact, watching each performance was torture for her.
Perhaps it was because she was forced to learn the dry knowledge related to it from a young age, she even despised this art form.
Because she had learned it, she knew everything about Kabuki culture.
She could appreciate it; she could see how perfectly her husband's turn on the stage embodied strength and aesthetic, and knew how exquisitely vivid the next facial expression would be. She knew her husband was vigorously displaying on the stage every inch of his skin, every single muscle.
Indeed, she knew it all.
But she just didn't like it.
It's like how some people love coriander, while others despise it.
