Tiny Dancer
A NaruHina Mini-Series
One, two, three.
One, two three.
One, two three.
My world was spinning around me at what seemed to be the speed of light. I blinked repeatedly, trying to regain a bit of wetness to my dry eyes; as I spun, air danced around me as it whipped at my iridescent orbs, causing them to burn.
I bit down on my lower lip, forcing myself to twirl faster and faster. My mind was a mess-- I couldn't focus on anything but the task at hand.
My right foot tripped over my left, my whole body being forced to topple over onto the wooden-panneled floor beneath me. My eyes widened and my mouth opened a fraction, letting a shrill cry escape my thin, pink lips.
Eyelids closing sharply, I landed on my back; my tounge was accidentally bitten, and I could feel the small trickle of blood flowing onto the bottom of my mouth. The taste reminded me of rust.
"Ah," I winced, beginning to sit up from my current position. My small hand reached up towards the back of my head, rubbing it in a soothing manner. It, too, had smacked the hardwood floor of the dance studio, and had caused a wave of shock to run through my veins. Soon following the shock, was the stinging sensation of pain.
Quiet as it was, I could perceive the sound of tisking emitting from the coreographer standing in the front of the room. All I could do was wait for the harsh reprimand.
"Oh, come now, Hinata," she scolded. "You've been here for five years, and you still can not do a simple piroutte?"
Why did I feel as if I were being slapped?
"S-Sorry," I appologized, my eyes returning to the floor beneath me as I pushed myself up from it. My arms crossed themselves over my chest, a sign of embarrassment and humiliation.
I watched as my instructor placed her hands on her face and begin massaging her features, as if she was tired of having to go through this with me every lesson. Honestly, I couldn't blame her for acting the way she was, because she did have to slap my wrists every lesson, and would become aggrivated for obvious reasons. Still, I could not pretend as if I was not hurt by her actions.
"You know," she told me in a quiet voice, "I wonder how much longer you'll proceed with this until you let me off the hook."
I shrunk back as I felt tears watering up in my glassy orbs, which I refused to let fall in front of her. This would only show her that I was weak, and I would not give her the satisfaction.
"So, y-you wish for me to quit?" I inquired softly, stuttering only slightly.
"Well, obviously," she answered, her hands falling from her face to send a glare my way. Was this really how she felt?
I gulped, and moved towards the door, my head down as a dozen pairs of eyes were held on my retreating form. Didn't I have it in me to stand up straight, and carry my pride with me out the door?
I heard a loud coughing noise from behind me, but I did not turn around.
"And where are you going?" I heard my instructor calling after me, her stern voice cold.
I faked a smile, and grabbed my bag from beside the door. "I am honoring your wishes," I answered lightly, my hand reaching out towards the door handle. The frigid metal sending shivers up my leotard-clad body as I turned it as slowly as was humanly possible.
Without another word, I walked out the door, and out into the icy winter's night air.
I could percieve small whispers from other girls around me, catching my name on the topic of conversation. Many of the so-called "popular" girls at our school were in ballet with me, and were now speaking of my inquiry to call it quits at Miss Nobunaga's School of Dance.
A splash of crimson held my features in a facelock as I trecked down the wide hallway; I figured that if I could get to my locker in time, I might not have to deal with the many tauntings from the other girls in my class.
Sadly, this was not the case.
"Hey! Hinata!" I heard Ino's loud, obnoxious voice humming loudly over the many quiet conversations. My heart thudded on at a faster rate, and I picked up my walking pace to a powerwalk.
A loud whack on my middle-back stopped me right in my tracks.
"Hey," the blonde laughed, "that was some scene at the studio last night!"
I didn't dare look in to her eyes. "Yeah," I agreed, "I-I suppose."
"I can't believe you couldn't do a pirouette!" she continued. "Didn't we learn those, like, three years ago?"
My blush deepened. "Yeah, uh, I think it was four."
She slapped her forehead with a roll of her eyes. "Oh, yeah; of course it was four! Silly me."
Yes, Ino, I thought angrily, silly you.
"So, you're actually not coming back?" she asked, trying to sound concerned, though failing miserably.
I took a few steps away from her, now standing before my locker. As I fumbled with the conversation, I felt Ino's presence standing behind me, waiting for an answer.
"Yes," I answered, "I'm not going back."
"Aw," she said with another attempt at apathy, "that's too bad, Hinata."
I shrugged, trying to show her that I was completely indifferent about the matter, even though inside I felt like balling my eyes out.
Ever since I was twelve, I had been dancing at the academy. Now, I was stuck without a fulfilled dream. Although I wished so badly for me to have at least i some /i talent with the sport, I could not change what I was not born with.
"Well," Ino sighed, finding that I was not going to be open with her about the matter at hand, "I guess I'm going to the next class. Later."
I didn't look up from my place in front of my locker to watch her walk away from me, because, to be brutally honest, I couldn't care less if she was here or not. She had absolutely no brain power inside her head, so whenever I was around her, I felt as if I were talking to a potato-- a spud.
Fumbling with the lock on my locker, I began to have trouble with the opening of my pint-size cabinet. Quickly was I growing impatient, and began to fumble with it even more ferociously.
"Please, locker," I murmured quietly, as if pleading with the compartment to let me inside. "My class starts in three minutes, and I need my stuff."
I huffed.
"Need some help?" I heard a light, raspy voice call from behind me.
I blinked, and turned to my right. My heart felt as if it were clogged up the back of my throat, a thick layer of blush reappearing on my cheeks.
"U-Uh," I stuttered, wanting to slap myself for doing so in front of that blue-eyed beauty.
"Here," he offered, stepping a few feet closer, lightly taking the lock from my grasp. I held the gasp in my throat, along with my heart, as his long and tan fingers brushed past my bony, pale ones.
He grinned as he began randomly turning the dial of the lock, before glancing down at me. His eyes caught mine in a short-lived gaze; those crystalline orbs of his held amusement and happiness.
Suddenly, I noticed that his lips were moving, forming words that I was too dense to comprehend at the moment. Shaking my head, I now recognized that he was asking me for my combination.
"O-Oh, it's twenty-two, eighteen, seven," I told him, averting my eyes from his gracious form. Moments later, a loud click was heard on my lock; a metallic blue could be seen extended out towards me from the corner of my eye.
Taking the lock from his palm, my blush deepened-- was that even possible?-- and I kept my eyes focused on my shoes.
"All right," he sighed, forcing his hands into the pockets of his orange pants, "I guess I'll see you in Language Arts. Okay?"
Finally taking a glance up at him, I found a smile dancing up on his soft, full lips. This, of course caused a smile to leak on to my lips, as well.
"Okay," I replied, and waved to him as he began to walk away from me.
He turned his head around a fraction to face me, and I caught a sparkle in his eye as he waved back at me.
"Later, Hinata!" he called.
"B-Bye, Naruto!" I spoke quietly, but my tone held inconceivable amounts of merriment.
Uzumaki Naruto, I thought, you never cease to amaze me.