A/N: This is cross-posted from AO3, where you can find it titled "so you think you can dance" by ao3 user supernovas (that's me.) It was written for a friend but I kinda published it two months late, oops. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.
Madoka picks up on Sayaka's foul mood as soon as the two meet up at Sayaka's locker after school.
"Is it the competition?" she asks kindly as they begin their walk home. Hitomi couldn't walk with them today; her parents picked her up early for a doctor's appointment.
"No, it's my asshole of a dance partner," Sayaka mutters. She kicks at a nearby stone on the pavement. "He won't let me lead- sexist pig keeps going on about how he's the 'man'- he's fourteen years old! He needs to shut up!"
"We're fourteen too," Madoka says.
"Yeah, but we're not total asses like he is," Sayaka replies curtly.
Madoka smiles and offers her sympathies, and Sayaka goes on to complain about how the only decent boy in her class is Kyousuke, and he has some rich girl that Hitomi's family knows as his dance partner.
"And she's even nice," Sayaka moans despairingly. "I can't even bring myself to hate her when she's such a sweet girl. She brought in cupcakes the other week for this one kid who broke his leg. Homemade cupcakes! You can't hate a person who makes homemade cupcakes and shares them!"
"Well, you're a good person, Sayaka," Madoka says genuinely. "I don't think you could really hate anyone."
Sayaka shrugs. "I don't know anyone really worth hating. Except maybe my dance partner, but he's not worth my time."
Madoka nods. "What time is your competition?" she asks.
"Eight P.M.," Sayaka answers. "I have so much homework to do, too, and I think I should practice my dance, and-"
"Would you like to go to the arcade?" Madoka suggests. "Just for a little while! You can dance and play some games. Mama says dancing for fun is a stress reliever."
"Yes!" Sayaka cries. "Oh hell yes. Madoka, you're a genius. Let's go!"
The girls run the rest of the way to the arcade and nearly crash into the automatic door in their frenzy. An arcade worker gives a strange glance at the two, sprawled on the floor after having tripped over each other's feet after the fiasco with the automatic door and giggling like children. He offers to help them up, and Sayaka and Madoka gratefully (sheepishly) take his hands and stand up, sharing the slightest bashful smiles as they do so.
Sayaka uses her first coins on a violent shooting game, the kind that might make Madoka's parents faint if they saw her playing it. Sayaka is unfazed, though, and guns down her enemies with a vigor that occasionally makes Madoka flinch. She suspects that Sayaka is imagining her dance partner in place of the uniformed people she shoots.
When her time is up, Sayaka loudly declares that it's DDR time, and marches over to the game machine. It's occupied, however, by a skinny redhead with long hair and a Pocky stick in her mouth. The girl shifts between the tiles so rapidly that her feet seem to blur, and stomps on them with a verve that rivals that of Sayaka's when she was playing the shooting game just a minute before. Her accuracy is astounding.
The song ends, and the redhead turns around to see Madoka and Sayaka watching her. "You're good," Sayaka breathes, not even trying to contain her awe.
The girl smirks, raises one eyebrow. "Better than you, I bet," she says casually.
Sayaka's mouth drops open. "No!" she exclaims. "I'll show you!"
"Go ahead," the girl replies, taking a deliberate bite out of her Pocky stick and gesturing toward the machine. "Try and beat my record."
Sayaka glares at the girl as she steps up to the mounted floor. She holds her chin high and selects Expert level and picks the same song as the redhead had been playing.
The music starts, and Madoka watches Sayaka concentrate on the variegated arrows falling down the screen. Sayaka stamps lustily on the four tiles, as though hitting them harder will somehow increase her accuracy. When she misses a few double arrows and breaks her streak, she curses under her breath. The redhead grins.
Sayaka ends up making the top ten players on this particular console. The redhead points to her own high score on the leaderboard- she's number one, and her name as entered on the game is Kyoko. Sayaka is in third place, just six hundred points below her.
"Sorry," says the redhead, shrugging mock-sympathetically. Sayaka can see the smirk on her face, though, and it takes every ounce of restraint that she has not to slap the girl then and there. "Guess you're not better than me, huh?"
"I messed up a few times, alright?" Sayaka insists defensively. "I really am good at this!"
"Sure you are," replies Kyoko. She shrugs again in that infuriatingly casual way. "Just not as good as I am."
"I'm a competitive dancer, for crying out loud!" Sayaka exclaims. Madoka gently reaches over to take her arm and begin to lead her away.
Kyoko cracks a wry smile at that. "Hell of a lotta good that did you," she remarks snidely.
Madoka intervenes like the goddess that she is. "Well, um, we've got somewhere to be, but it was very nice meeting you, Kyoko-san," she squeaks, holding on to Sayaka's arm.
"Pleasure," Kyoko replies offhandedly, through her gaze stays on Sayaka. The blue-haired girl forces herself to meet Kyoko's eyes, but ends up looking away first and hates herself for it. "I'll see you around, huh, competitive dancer girl?"
"Definitely," Sayaka practically hisses back. "I'll beat you next time!" she declares. She regrets it almost immediately after- how old is she, five?
Kyoko doesn't say anything, though, merely winks at them, the smirk on her face ever-present as she watches the two walk away.
Just that afternoon Sayaka told Madoka that she didn't know anyone worth hating. By the same night, she hates two people.
The first is her dance partner, who not only forced her to let him lead, stepped on her toes, tripped, and caused them to be two beats behind the music and mortally embarrass themselves at the competition, but then had the nerve to blame her for it. She wonders if Madoka's parents would let her bury the body in their backyard. They seem like pretty relaxed parents.
The second is Kyoko. She isn't quite sure why she hates the redhead that she only met today, but there's something about the way Kyoko smirks and winks and raises her eyebrows that makes Sayaka's face hot and blood rush and heart rate speed up. She's pretty sure that these are indicators that she hates Kyoko.
Sayaka frowns. She doesn't consider that Kyoko's effects on her may be indicative of quite the opposite.
The next day Sayaka leaves Madoka a note telling her to go home without her and heads to the arcade immediately after school.
Kyoko is at the DDR machine again, feet flying. Sayaka gracelessly shoves her off and ends the game.
"What the hell?" Kyoko demands.
Sayaka aggressively inserts a coin and picks the same song she and Kyoko played yesterday.
"Hey!" says Kyoko, pointing menacingly at Sayaka with one half-bitten Pocky stick.
"I'm going to beat you," Sayaka declares, focusing on the screen and descending arrows.
"You interrupted my game! You're not going to do anything!"
"Shut up," says Sayaka. She pounds on the tiles, eyes not moving from the screen until she feels hands on her and realizes she's on the floor. The game hasn't paused, and she looks up to see Kyoko continuing where she left off.
"You pushed me!" Sayaka cries, forgetting until it's too late how childish she sounds. Kyoko seems to bring out her five-year-old mentality.
"No shit," says Kyoko. She jumps twice and then stomps on the right arrow four times. "You pushed me first."
Sayaka's jaw drops. She stands up and pushes the redhead off of the platform. Kyoko whirls around, shoves her back so suddenly that Sayaka's breath catches in her throat.
"Excuse me!" a deep voice bellows. Sayaka has never taken a fighting lesson in her life, but she swings a fist wildly at Kyoko just as the employee grabs her arm.
"Excuse me," he repeats, holding both girls' arms firmly in his hands. "We do not condone violence here. I'm going to politely ask you two to leave the premises or I will have to call the police."
Grudgingly, Sayaka and Kyoko allow themselves to be escorted out of the arcade. Outside, Kyoko flops down cross-legged on the sidewalk.
"Now look what you've done," the redhead grumbles. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"I don't know!" Sayaka shouts. "It's not my fault-"
"Not your fault? Not your fault?" Kyoko echoes incredulously, rising to meet Sayaka's eyes. "You interrupt my game without so much as even saying hello and push me off and it's my fault we got kicked out?"
"What did you want me to say?" Sayaka demands. "'Hey there, jerk, I'm going to annihilate your high score now'?"
"You didn't have to push me off!" Kyoko yells. She doesn't even seem to realize when she shoves Sayaka against the wall. "You got us kicked out of there! Now where am I supposed to go?"
Sayaka is suddenly very acutely aware of their close proximity, of Kyoko's ragged breaths hot on her own face. Or maybe her face is already hot. Kyoko seems to naturally have that effect on her. "I- I don't know!" Sayaka says, trying to move past the other girl.
Kyoko suddenly releases her. "Shit," she mutters, seemingly more to herself than to Sayaka.
Caught off guard by the redhead's sudden quietness, Sayaka says, "What?"
"I am fucked," Kyoko announces, almost offhandedly, to the air and the pigeon pecking at a bread crumb by her foot.
Sayaka waves a hand in front of the other girl's pensive face. "Hello? I'm here. You could tell me what's happening."
Kyoko sighs and goes back to sitting on the sidewalk. She seems distant, eyes fixed on something far away that Sayaka can't quite pinpoint. "Police officer told me to get off the streets. She doesn't want me wandering around, so I've been hanging in the arcade so she'll stay off my back." She turns and glares at Sayaka. "Of course, now that little Miss Competitive Dancer got us both kicked out, I can't exactly go there anymore."
Sayaka feels a pang of guilt in her chest unwilled. Being on a police officer's bad side sounded terrifying, especially to a fourteen year old girl. "Could you go to a restaurant or something?"
"Too expensive," explains Kyoko. "I can't afford to buy a nice meal every day. And stores salespeople get annoyed when you show up in there every day but never buy their expensive shit. The arcade is cheap and it's fun." She snorts. "Not that that helps now."
It's three thirty. Sayaka's dance class is at four. She should be going now; that much is obvious. The more debatable question is whether she should be going alone.
"We-ell," she says after a moment. Kyoko looks up at her, almost hopefully, and in that half of a second she seems so uncharacteristically vulnerable that it makes Sayaka's chest ache. "I have dance class at four. I guess you could come with me and, um, watch or something." She suddenly feels anxious, as if the redhead might turn her down and mock her for even suggesting that she would be interested in watching Sayaka doing her wimpy little competitive dancing.
But Kyoko considers it for a few seconds and then nods decisively. "Hey, uh, thanks," she says, standing up.
"No problem," Sayaka replies, even though she's not quite sure how true that is. Will her teacher be okay with her bringing in this girl from off the streets so she won't get arrested?
And speaking of getting arrested. "Why is the police officer after you, anyways?" Sayaka asks.
Kyoko shrugs. "Thinks I'm a thief or something and doesn't want me roaming the streets when I'm an underage girl."
"Are you?" Sayaka says before she can stop herself. At Kyoko's puzzled look, she clarifies. "A thief?"
"Hell no!" Kyoko cries, offended. "Thieves get caught!"
Dance class that day is awkward at best. Sayaka isn't sure how to describe it at worst, and she decides she doesn't want to.
Her teacher is surprisingly (thankfully) okay with Sayaka bringing her new "friend". Sayaka makes up some vague half-truth (well, maybe a quarter-truth) about Kyoko having lost her keys and needing to hang out somewhere after school till her parents got home.
Kyoko seems lost. She follows Sayaka like a puppy into the locker room where Sayaka changes- couldn't she have waited outside or something? The blue-haired girl keeps checking over her shoulder, unreasonably paranoid that the redhead is watching her. When Kyoko catches her glancing suspiciously at her, she groans, "Are you fucking kidding me? I am not at all interested in watching you change." Under her breath she mutters, "Even more narcissistic than I thought."
"Hey!" Sayaka protests. "You didn't have to follow me in here!"
"Well, where else was I supposed to go?" Kyoko retorts.
"You could've waited outside!" Sayaka says.
The redhead silently walks outside and shuts the door with more force than is necessary. Sayaka sighs. She finishes changing and heads into the studio.
"Are you kidding me?" Sayaka nearly screams when her teacher breaks the news to her after class. She's not sure whether to be offended or relieved. Maybe a bit of both.
"He said that he would- what were his words? 'Work better' with a different partner. I told him there was a new girl in another class that would be in need of a partner for the next competition. He told me he'd be glad to partner with her." Sayaka's teacher gives her a sympathetic look. "From what I understand, you two were not getting along very well to begin with."
"He didn't say anything about it during class today! And we just started learning the new dance for the next competition!" Sayaka exclaims.
"What a tool," Kyoko remarks.
"Thanks," Sayaka says grudgingly. She turns to her teacher. "What am I supposed to do now?" she moans.
The teacher isn't looking at Sayaka, though, but at Kyoko. "Do you dance, honey?" she suddenly asks the redhead.
Kyoko looks like a fish on dry land. Sayaka nearly laughs at the other girl's stunned facial expression.
"Um," she says, fumbling for a Pocky stick to chew on. "Sort of?"
"Well, that will have to do," Sayaka's teacher says briskly. "Would you be interested in being Sayaka's dance partner?"
"Um," Kyoko says again, eyes darting around the room almost frantically. Sayaka guiltily revels in Kyoko's discomfort.
"You'd have somewhere to stay after school," the teacher adds. "And you could learn something new. I'm sure it'd be a very enlightening experience."
Kyoko glances at Sayaka, who (after a brief hesitation) gives her the slightest affirming nod. "Sure," says Kyoko.
Sayaka's (and now Kyoko's) dance teacher beams. "Wonderful!" she says. "I'll see you tomorrow then, um- what's your name?"
"Kyoko."
"Kyoko. I'll see you tomorrow, Kyoko."
Sayaka takes the bus home from dance class. She's not sure where Kyoko goes; the other girl left immediately after talking to their dance teacher, deflecting any questions about her destination with a simple "Don't worry about it."
She contemplates whether she still hates Kyoko and figures that she's somewhere in between right now. It was both of their faults that they got kicked out of the arcade. And Kyoko will probably make a much better dance partner than her former partner. Well, she hopes so, anyways. At least Kyoko won't step on her toes. As much.
There's a text from Madoka: Are you okay?
Sayaka hesitates, debating whether she should recount all that happened or tell Madoka tomorrow. In the end, she replies simply: Just fine.
In the beginning, in the very beginning, Sayaka flinches. She doesn't mean to, but when Kyoko first steps to face her and puts one hand on her waist she draws back sharply, almost instinctively, as though from a predator.
"Sorry," she squeaks immediately afterwards. "You just surprised me."
Kyoko looks her in the eye but only nods. She waits a second before she tries again; this time Sayaka puts her hand on Kyoko's arm and they clumsily follow the teacher's instructions, being very, very careful to avoid stepping on each other's feet.
It's awkward initially; Sayaka can't shake the thought that Kyoko's hands are on her, the same hands that pushed her off the DDR machine just yesterday (though she did push the other girl as well. She wonders whether Kyoko is thinking about Sayaka's hands on her body as much as Sayaka is. When she steals a glance at Kyoko, though, the redhead's face is impassive, and Sayaka reddens and curses herself for thinking too much.)
And yet she does think too much; it's in her nature. She takes note of the change in Kyoko's demeanor, how she loses some- much- of her pomposity in dance class, how she instead is quiet, careful, meticulous. After some observation and contemplation, Sayaka chalks it up to Kyoko's being in a new, unfamiliar environment and perhaps feeling out of place and reluctant to lose her current source of shelter from the police. It would explain her cautiousness, her lack of usual snarky comments, and her infrequent consumption of Pocky as of late (no food allowed in the dance studio!)
Gradually (though when she looks back, Sayaka will barely remember how it happened, so quickly the time seemed to fly), she becomes more comfortable with Kyoko, and vice versa. They take the appropriate steps in time with each other, and Sayaka leads (of course) the pair through the more complex moves as they learn them. No longer do they painstakingly avoid each other's feet; they soon learn that it is more important to keep the proper distance from each other and that doing so will (usually) prevent mishaps.
That doesn't stop Kyoko from stepping on Sayaka's toes. Once. When the redhead reslizes what she's done, she grins in her shameless way and murmurs a decidedly insincere "Sorry."
Sayaka finds herself smiling in spite of herself. It's nice to see Kyoko back to her old self. She doesn't say it's okay, but she's sure that her partner understands.
"The competition is just a day away!" their teacher announces all too soon. "I'm very pleased with the progress all of you have made in the past few months, but it's not over yet! On this last day before the competition I would like to remind you all to make sure that..."
"Crap," mutters Kyoko.
"What?" Sayaka asks.
"Do we have to dress up for the competition?" Kyoko says. She's been wearing her same hoodie and skirt and leggings to every class; the teacher had approved them since she could move easily in them.
"Of course you have to dress up for the competition!" Sayaka exclaims incredulously, looking at Kyoko as those she had been raised in a cave. For all Sayaka knows, she might have. Maybe her cave-woman mother fed her Coca-Cola and Pocky sticks instead of milk and baby food and never taught her how to dance beyond stepping on four crude arrows drawn in the dirt.
"Oh. Shit."
"...You don't have anything to wear, do you?" Sayaka says, but it comes out as more of a statement than a question.
"Do I look like I regularly dress for tango competitions?" Kyoko retorts. After thinking a moment, she adds, "What the hell do people even wear to tango competitions?"
"Kyoko," Sayaka groans. "You can borrow one of my dresses. Come over to my house after class."
"You sure?" Kyoko asks, looking skeptical.
"Of course," Sayaka says. "Now hurry up and dance with me. The teacher will yell at us if we're just talking and not practicing."
Kyoko faces her and places one hand on Sayaka's waist and the other on her arm; Sayaka meets her eyes and they count the eight beats of rest together before launching into the dance- one, two, three, four and one, two, three, Sayaka thinks, taking the first, simpler steps in time with Kyoko. Sayaka leads the pair, weaving carefully around the other couples while still matching the beat of the music. She twirls Kyoko around at one point; the redhead grins, eyes shining, and when they come back together Sayaka silently marvels at how well their bodies mesh (and feels her face heat up when she realizes what she's thinking.)
"Try this one," Sayaka suggests, holding up a red sequined dress. "It should be your size."
"It's red," says Kyoko simply, flipping her hair and gesturing to it.
"Right," Sayaka murmurs, putting it back on the hanger and shifting through other dresses in her closet*. She touches a dark blue one that she had planned on wearing herself for the competition but holds it out to Kyoko. "Want to try this one?" she offers.
Kyoko shrugs and takes it. She looks around, as though she's not sure where she should change, and Sayaka points down the hallway and says, "The bathroom's on the right."
"Thanks," Kyoko replies.
A minute later she reappears wearing the dress, holding her clothes with one hand and smoothing down the dress as though self-conscious with the other. She seems unusually demure, gaze focused on the floor. When she notices Sayaka staring at her, though, she snaps back to her usual self.
"See something you like?" Kyoko asks, smirking.
Sayaka flushes considerably, which is all the answer Kyoko needs. "It looks good on you," Sayaka tells her. She does not tell her that she does see something she likes. Or maybe more like someone she likes. "I was going to wear it myself, but it actually fits you really well and anyways I have other dresses I could use and maybe we could match, that'd be cute, and-" She's rambling now, she realizes, and cuts herself off. "Sorry. What do you think?"
Kyoko pauses. "I haven't worn something this fancy in a long time," she admits after a pause. "If you wanted to wear it, though-"
"No, no, it's fine!" Sayaka insists.
"I could try on something else," Kyoko suggests. She gently pushes past Sayaka to examine the contents of the closet.* "Hey, here's a green one!" she exclaims, taking it off the hanger and holding it up to her body. "Apparently redheads are supposed to wear green. Looks good on us or some other crap fashion-y people like to say."
Sayaka nods, somewhat dazed at how Kyoko seems uncharacteristically talkative, almost chatty. At the thought of a vapid, gossipy Kyoko, Sayaka nearly laughs. It seems she's not the only one who's nervously babbling right now.
"Anyways, I'm going to try this on," Kyoko says, and Sayaka signals with one hand for her to go ahead, not trusting her tongue.
A few moments after she goes into the bathroom, Kyoko comes out again. "Sorry," she says. "Could you help me zip this?"
She turns around, and Sayaka places one hand on Kyoko's shoulder to keep the dress in place and with the other pulls the zipper up from Kyoko's lower back.
"Thanks," says Kyoko quietly. She adjusts the straps a bit and tugs down the hem of the dress before turning around. "How is it?" she asks.
Sayaka sees what the "fashion-y people" mean when they say green looks good on redheads. (That's what she'd like to believe, anyways, as opposed to the very probable possibility that she just thinks Kyoko looks good in everything, especially her clothes.) The dress, which was a tad too big for Sayaka, fits Kyoko perfectly, cutting off just above her knees. The emerald color complements her hair nicely, and the dress is neither too tight nor too loose. "Wear this one," Sayaka says decisively.
"So it's good?" Kyoko asks.
"See for yourself," Sayaka replies, and Kyoko goes into the bathroom to look in the mirror. After a moment Sayaka hears her whisper, "Damn."
"Well?" says Sayaka.
"I look hot," Kyoko declares, and Sayaka giggles (partially because she finds it funny and partially so she doesn't have to say that she agrees. Wholeheartedly.)
"Are you sure your parents won't-"
"Kyoko," says Sayaka. "They've been wanting to meet you for months! Of course they'll be happy if you come over! My mom was so upset that she missed when you were here yesterday because she had work. So did my dad."
"But they don't know who I am," Kyoko protests. She kicks at a rock on the sidewalk, lingering a few steps behind Sayaka instead of staying just beside her as they walk.
"I've told them you're my dance partner," Sayaka says. She pauses, unsure of whether she should say more, but Kyoko does it for her.
"Nothing else?" she asks, and for some reason (a reason that should not exist, Sayaka chides herself) this makes Sayaka's face heat up. It's not as though they are anything else. Are they?
"Was there anything else you think I should have told them about you?" Sayaka replies. She fervently hopes she sounds casual.
Kyoko shrugs. "Do they know about how you got kicked out of the arcade for trying to punch me?"
Sayaka reddens even more. "We," she corrects. "We both got kicked out of the arcade."
"Yeah, but I'm not their daughter and they don't have to worry about me," Kyoko says.
Why does she have to be right, Sayaka wonders internally. "Please don't bring it up," she says.
"Wasn't planning on it," Kyoko replies.
They walk the rest of the way to Sayaka's house in a companionable silence, and when they get to the door the two pause. Sayaka can see Kyoko fidgeting, and on an impulse reaches over to gently squeeze her hand. She doesn't wait to see her reaction, nor is she sure if she wants to. She busies herself with opening the door and calls, "Mom, I'm home!"
Her mother is in the office, working from home today. She hugs Sayaka when she comes in and says, "Is this the Kyoko I've been hearing so much about?"
"Mom!" Sayaka exclaims, cheeks flushing. "I didn't say that much about her!"
"Yeah- yes," says Kyoko, awkwardly reaching out to shake Sayaka's mother's hand, which causes the woman to laugh.
"No need to be so formal," Sayaka's mom says. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm really sorry I couldn't be here yesterday- I had a meeting to be at. Are you staying for dinner?"
"She is," Sayaka says. "And then after that we'll change and go to the competition."
"Wonderful!" Sayaka's mother says. "I'll see you at dinner, then, Kyoko. Sayaka's father is an excellent cook; I'm sure you'll enjoy whatever he prepares. I know I do!" She laughs in the way that mothers do, and then adds, "Sayaka, be a good hostess and see if Kyoko wants anything to eat or drink, alright? I have work to do."
"It was nice to meet you," says Kyoko hesitantly. Sayaka tries not to laugh at Kyoko's unnatural formality. When her mother smiles and says, "Likewise," Sayaka follows as Kyoko practically runs out of the room.
"Are you sweating?" Sayaka exclaims, looking over her partner after they exit, seeking solace in the kitchen.
"No," Kyoko replies quickly. Too quickly. She swipes a hand across her forehead, rubs her hands on her skirt, and laughs shortly. "C'mon, let's practice or something."
"It's just my mom," Sayaka says.
"Don't remind me," says Kyoko. "I still have to meet your dad." She cuts herself off suddenly, as if she's said too much. "Whatever! Let's practice for tonight." She places her hands on Sayaka's arm and waist. "One, two, three-"
"But there's no music," Sayaka protests.
The redhead rolls her eyes. "We don't need music," she replies. She resumes counting the beats out loud, and Sayaka keeps time with her in her head.
They dance.
Sayaka's father is just as eager to meet Kyoko as her mother was. He peppers her with questions- has she done dance before ("sort of"), how her school is (Kyoko blinks before making something up on the spot), whether she's enjoying the food ("of course!"), if Sayaka is a good dance partner ("better than I am"), and so on and so forth. If he notices Kyoko's nervousness, he doesn't show it, and by the end of the meal Sayaka is fairly sure that Kyoko has made a good impression on her parents.
They go to Sayaka's room to get ready, and after they've zipped up their dresses Sayaka insists that she do Kyoko's makeup. She has the other girl sit down in front of her dresser and opens up the makeup set her mother gave her for her last birthday. Carefully, Sayaka dabs at the redhead's cheeks with a bit of blush and applies eyeliner, focusing very much on keeping her hand steady.
At one point she glances in the mirror at her own reflection. Her cheeks are pink enough that she won't need to put on any artificial blush.
"Kyoko, shut up," Sayaka hisses.
"What the hell are we supposed to be doing?" Kyoko demands. "What do people even do at these things?"
"Wait," Sayaka whispers, exasperated. "Wait till it's our turn. Watch the other people."
Kyoko frowns and takes out her anger by glaring at some poor dancer who happens to meet her eyes at that same moment. The boy nearly trips in his surprise. Kyoko seems pleased with herself, the little sadist.
"Don't do that!" Sayaka admonishes, slapping her lightly on the arm. "Come on, it'll be our turn soon. We have to be ready-"
"Yeah, yeah," Kyoko says dismissively. "We've been practicing for months, Sayaka. It's not a big deal."
Sayaka huffs and busies herself with smoothing down her dress and waving at her parents in the audience. She and Kyoko are sitting in the front with their fellow competitors, waiting for their turn. There are four couples that go each round, and over two hundred dancers their age from all over the prefecture are here. The third round is going on right now. She and Kyoko are in the ninth round.
Kyoko continues to glare at the dancers and occasionally make fun of a pair that is so horrendously off-beat that the judges cringe every time they look in their direction. Sayaka continues to glare at Kyoko and scold her for being rude.
All too soon, the announcer is calling the dancers for the ninth round and the girls follow the other dancers onto the dance floor and take their positions. Kyoko places her hands on Sayaka's shoulder and waist as if they belong there (and often Sayaka feels that they do.) The two lock eyes, and Sayaka smiles nervously as they count the beats of the introduction and begin to dance.
Sayaka follows the steps that they've practiced so many times with a mechanical sort of mastery. It comes to her so automatically that she doesn't even have to think about the routine anymore. She focuses instead on watching the other dancers, mostly Kyoko. The redhead seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself; she moves as fluidly as ever and adds a few impromptu twirls in the rests between steps, and Sayaka grabs her hands tightly when she comes back, bright-eyed and breathless and grinning from ear to ear.
And when the music comes to an end and Kyoko is about to pull away, Sayaka stops her. She puts one hand on Kyoko's arm to steady herself, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses her.
This time, Sayaka pulls away first, and she looks up at Kyoko. Her partner is smiling.
A/N: Really sorry about any formatting issues. I copied and pasted from google docs so it might be kinda funky because fanfiction does that to my paragraphs unfortunately. Hope you liked it!