Where Even Flowers Bloom

Chapter 01:

"Meeting Anzu"


I'm not gonna lie... the door intimidated me. It was just a door, yeah, and there was no reason a simple little door should scare me, but as I stood in front of it I felt nerves jump inside my stomach like agitated grasshoppers. I took my key-card and swiped it, swallowing when I heard the lock disengage. The green light on the card panel glared like a watching eye. With mouth dry, I pushed the door open.

My roommate for the next three months stood by the window, and she was pretty. Not that it mattered—oh, hell, of course it mattered. This girl was really, really pretty, and my last bits of confidence weren't holding up very well under the flash of her blue eyes. She had a bob of rich brown hair, dusky skin, and—I already told you her eye color. Blue. Blue like an ocean. Damn, was she pretty!

Wait a minute. Blues eyes? My roommate was supposed to be Japanese, wasn't she? With my teak-brown hair and dull green eyes, I probably looked more Japanese than she did.

"Hi!" said the girl who might not actually be my roommate, after all. She strode toward me, bowed from the waist, then seemed to remember something. She thrust out her hand so I could shake it. "Hi, I'm Anzu Mazaki."

Well, that was certainly a Japanese name. "I'm Daisy Lachance," I said.

Anzu giggled. "Well, they warned me my roommate would be French," she said. "You have a pretty accent."

She didn't have an accent at all. Her English was gloriously perfect, just like the rest of her. She was a bit shorter than me, petite but strong. Next to her I felt ungainly and awkward. I flushed and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Are you really Japanese?" I heard myself asking, and when her smile faded I regretted my poor choice of words. "I mean, your English is just so good, and you have blue eyes—uh, I don't mean anything by that, I just—"

She laughed, smile returning. "My mom's from Germany," she said. She reached past me and snagged my suitcase. "Let's get you settled!"

Anzu hadn't unpacked yet, so the two of us spent the next hour putting our stuff away and getting to know one another. Anzu was half Japanese, which explained some of her unusual coloring, and she'd started learning English in school as a kid. When she was accepted by this dance program (the International Dance Academy Conference, which we just called the Academy) and learned she'd have a roommate, she got a tutor and tried to become fluent. Although the Academy selected students from around the world every year, which meant there really couldn't be a common language for such a diverse student body, English was the defacto option.

"How about you?" she asked. "Did you learn English in school?"

That answer was a bit complicated. "Yeah, but my dad is from America so I spent time there as a kid," I told her (there was more to it than that but we'd only just met; I didn't trust her enough to tell her everything about my tumultuous family life). "I lived with Mom growing up, so French is my native language, but I had to live in the States every summer so I'm fluent in that, too."

"Looks like we're both bilingual," Anzu said. She sighed, a dreamy look stealing over her features. "I wish I spoke French. It's such a romantic language."

"I'll teach you some French if you teach me Japanese," I offered.

We started discussing languages, then, and as we finished unpacking we segued into a discussion of dance. I figured since we were both in this program Anzu must be crazy about dance, but as we talked I realized she wasn't just crazy about it—she was obsessed. Grade A, first class obsessed. I mean, I was too, but as we discussed our favorite ballet dancers she showed an incredible knowledge of dancers both past and present. She had a favorite dancer (both male and female) for every decade of the past century, for crying out loud!

"I want to end up in New York," she confided. We sat on her bed, clutching pillows to our chests as we talked about our Dance Dreams (all dancers have those, I'm pretty sure). "I want to be on Broadway. I know most people here are ballet dancers but I just can't stick to one style, you know?"

"Oh, totally," I said. "That's why I applied for this program. We're learning so much of every style, so maybe I'll figure out what my best style is by the end of the classes."

My Dance Dream wasn't as concrete as hers. I knew I wanted to dance ballet for the rest of my life, but with what company and in what country I wasn't sure. That's why I was so eager to attend the Academy. Hopefully it could expand my horizons and point me in a good direction.

The Academy was held every year, and you had to apply to get in. I'd barely made the cut (in truth I'd been wait-listed, but Anzu didn't need to know that). I was ecstatic to be here, though, and what I lacked in formal training I hoped to augment with enthusiasm. Anzu needed no such bolstering, of course. When I asked for her dance background she provided a laundry list of competitions she'd won and classes she'd taken-way more than most 17 year olds I knew. She was incredibly impressive for someone her age. My own dance background wasn't nearly as diverse, hence my nerves when I arrived at the Academy and first met Anzu. I'd danced ballet all my life and I'd done some contemporary and modern, too, but I was woefully lacking in jazz. Anzu and I shared a love of hip-hop, I learned, and we'd both done some tap, but in the end I realized my roommate was probably way out of my dancing league.

...which is why I was so surprised when she hugged her pillow even tighter to her chest, knees coming up as she curled into a tight ball. Her bangs covered her eyes as her lips pressed into a tight line. She looked like she was about to cry.

"Daisy, I know we just met, but I need to tell someone-I'm scared," she said.

"Of what?" I asked. "Is it the performance?" At the end of the Academy we were to perform for recruiters from all sorts of dance companies, companies from all corners of the world who wanted to scout fresh talent. I knew I was nervous for that. Could the impeccably prepared Anzu be nervous, too? "I know it's intimidating to be seen by all those professionals, but-"

"It's...not that," she said. She uncurled a little, head turning toward our dorm room's window with its tightly drawn curtains. The look on her face spoke of pain, longing, and a sadness so profound I found myself at a loss for words. "It's this place."

"What, the Academy?"

"No. The location of it." Her shoulders slumped and she curled back into her protective ball. "They didn't announce it until a few months ago, after I'd agreed to be a student, but if I'd known where they were going to hold the Academy this year, I...well, I might not have come at all."

She clearly had a connection to this place. I figured she'd tell me about it but after nearly a minute of complete silence I got up and headed toward the window.

"I'm not going to pry," I said over my shoulder. "Tell me if you want to, or don't. But whatever problem you have with this place, just know I've got your back. OK?"

She didn't answer, nor did she uncurl from her protective ball, so I gripped the window's curtains and pulled them open. Insistent Egyptian sunlight poured through the window, bathing my face in radiant warmth. The city of Cairo bustled beneath a clear blue sky. As the light hit Anzu she finally uncurled, blue eyes blinking in the harsh illumination.

"My mother has a saying," I told Anzu as she joined me at the window. "It sounds way less cheesy in French, but she says not to fret if you get lost in the desert." I grinned my most cheerful grin, and Anzu returned it with hesitance—and maybe a little bit of hope. "Deserts aren't so bad. For in them there are place where even flowers bloom."


NOTES:

Takes place post-series, after the ceremonial duel…hence Anzu's reluctance to come back to Egypt. But more on that later.

As stated in the story summary, this is a time travel romance with an OCxPriestSeto pairing. It's going to be a fairly slow story with a lot of fun (read: painful) romance, plus political intrigue, Ancient Egyptian goodness, and some action. Duel Monsters won't play a huge role, but magical creatures will.

Daisy is the protagonist, obviously. Hope you like her! You'll learn more about her as the story unfolds.

Disclaimer about Dance: I am not a dancer. Never have been, never will be. So all you dancers out there, PLEASE correct me if(when) I mess something up, and always feel free to give me suggestions. There's only so much information one can glean from YouTube tutorials and Wikipedia entries. ;)

Reviews are always appreciated. I've written a few chapters of this fic ahead of time; you'll get consistent updates for a few weeks. I've also outlined the story completely, so I won't be at a loss for where it's going, and hopefully that means I'll be able to produce chapters quickly. Happy reading!