Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh!. I do own my OC's: the three judges, Valerie Allard, and the Le Cygne Ballet Company. Everything else I do not own.
A/N: I recommend having the piece playing during the appropriate scene. It actually exists (helps that I really know my orchestral literature), and it really aids the imagination. Though not as popular as other pieces you'd read about in a piece about ballet, you'll still be able to find it on YouTube or Spotify.
I'm very proud of this piece. Not only did I incorporate my musical knowledge, but I spent a great amount of time researching what I needed to for this work. I had the idea started about three years ago, and over this last week I've been developing it. Enjoy.
Dreams of Dancing: The Le Cygne Tour
by Atemusluckygal
ALG Series
This was it… this was the big day. Months and months of preparing for this moment, and Téa was going to win their hearts.
Yami remembered the first time he saw Téa dance – it was on an outing during a sunny day in September. He and Téa had decided to stop by the arcade for a brief time, and Téa was challenged by a rude, pompous stranger on a dance machine. And even though it was only a machine – and only a game – Tea's passion for her dance radiated like the power of a thousand suns, blinding him with beauty and class found in no other person he knew. Even during her opponent's attempts of sabotage, Tea refused to falter in her performance. And, for this reason, Yami could not look away, nor could he ever dismiss the memory in his head of how elegantly she moved. He wondered to this day, if Téa had any idea how much she inspired him that afternoon.
A prestigious ballet company was visiting Domino this week, auditioning young talented dancers to tour with them all over the world, for months at a time. Perhaps even a year or two. There was nothing else on Téa's mind, nothing else occupying her free time or her focus, but her current tryout for this troupe. Yami could easily tell. This was something her heart yearned for the moment she strapped on her first pair of ballet shoes.
Yami sat in the audience of the small community theater, with other spectators scattered all over the seats watching their loved ones audition. The three judges seated in the front row seemed like the most theatrical people he'd ever seen appear in public – a tall and lanky man in his sixties in a bright orange blazer, a short middle-aged woman with vibrant chili red-dyed hair falling just behind her ears, and a dark skinned man who always seemed to have something to say, and spoke passionately with quick and animated gestures. These were people who not only loved or understood art; they lived art.
Yami had arrived in time to see the two dancers before Téa. They seemed very well practiced to him, though he knew very little of ballet, or dancing in general. Both auditionees, after their respective numbers, received terse nods and small complimentary words like "good" and "nice" as feedback, with the exception of the dark-skinned man going off about ballet being a form of poetry that you recite with your body. Strangely enough, each word seemed less genuine as each judge spoke. They offered very limited actual critique or compliment at all, and caused each dancer to awkwardly find their way off the stage, obviously expecting a more extensive line of comments and were not granted such.
It was Téa's turn at last; these sorts of things tended to run behind a bit, so it was around fifteen minutes after her audition time. Yami waited, alone and anxious for her, in one seat amongst the sea of theater chairs facing the lighted stage.
Within seconds of the previous dancer departing the stage, the bright, caring, and passionate Téa that Yami knew stood perfectly poised in front of the panel. Her silky brunette hair was pulled back into an extremely tight bun, leaving not a single strand untamed. The shimmering violet eyeshadow painting her eyelids matched the slim, form-fitting leotard hugging her curvaceous figure. Her white tights bound her long legs all the way down to her pointe shoes. They were 'Grishko's, she told him once. Supposedly they are considered one of the leading professional brands, and she had to get them custom fitted for her feet. It took her months at her job at Burger World to comfortably afford the pair. But now, with her shoes carrying her trained feet and her ribbons tied securely around her ankles, she was ready to let them bring her to her dreams.
"Name!" barked the older man in the orange blazer, as he had done to the other dancers.
Téa, however, was hardly disturbed by his piercing vocal demand. "Téa Gardener," she announced proudly.
"And the piece by which you will be accompanied?"
"The Danza del Trigo, from the ballet 'Estancia', by Alberto Ginastera."
Some scribbling and faint murmurs broke out amongst the panel. A few seconds passed, and the red-haired woman raised her head. "What an interesting choice of repertoire. You may proceed." Her accent was heavily Russian.
Back in the sparse audience, Yami merely had a moment to think on why Téa's piece would be considered an "interesting" choice, but his attention and focus was quickly absorbed by the ballerina he had come to adore assuming her starting pose.
The music crept in softly – a sustained note by the French horn, accompanied by slow rhythmic pizzicato of the strings – but Téa only remained where she was, with her body standing erect, arms curved inward to where the tips of her fingers almost met, her left foot's toes pointed at the floor and slightly before her right foot, and her head bowed. Yami began to wonder if she would continue on, knowing how impossibly nervous she was for this audition. Did she forget her choreography? Was she just too frozen to dance? No… there was a fierce look to her eyes as she stared straight ahead. She knew exactly what she was doing.
A solo flute introduced a modest and pleasant melody, and as Téa's head rose to the lights above her, her body unfurled into a display of grace, beauty, and refined elegance. The way she suspended her weight on her pointed toes and fleetingly glided her way about provided an ethereal illusion of her floating delicately across the stage. Her fluid limbs led her flexible body this way and that – to the floor and up – into the air and down – letting the flute conduct her every movement. The orchestra's textured sounds swelled, lifting Téa in her leaps and guiding her through her twirls. Her feet were so light and sturdy that they made no sound at all, not even on her landings. She resembled a white phoenix with her graceful moves coupled with powerful, grand confidence.
The solo violin was next. With nothing but the harp and plucking strings to accompany it, the violin and its dancer demanded the serenity and attention of the entire building. Téa was on the floor, her legs curled under her and her arms taking over the dancing on their own. She painted patterns in the air with her graceful hands; her arms moved through the space around her as if she were submerged underwater. They finally reached to the floor before her, folding over each other as Téa's head bowed low, concluding the dance as the symphony slowly faded out.
Yami released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Never had he beheld such beauty before.
No applause, no cheering, no vocal acknowledgement from her panel – the ones who were presently there to decide her fate. The room maintained an eerie sort of silence. The only movement was the scribbling of the pens of judges, composing the critique they earned the prestige to write upon her form, her profile as an auditionee – their impression of Téa's artistic presentation, unique to her and her alone.
Yami could practically feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. He couldn't begin to imagine the tenfold that Téa was feeling. This was the first time, as far as Yami had seen, that the judges refrained from speaking at all following an audition. No doubt, Téa had stunned them into speechlessness, Yami reasoned. After all, if he were a judge sitting behind that panel (and he'd fit right in, with his hairstyle), he wouldn't know what to say, either. He would recruit her on the spot.
"The third pirouette, leading into the second chorus," the dark-skinned man finally piped up, "it was sloppy".
Téa stood before the panel, frozen and tense, but her head gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement.
"In your saut de basque, there could have been… ehh… I would say more foundation," said the Russian woman in the middle. "It was a decent start I suppose, but the rest was a bit of a mess. Lock in your arms more. Don't just throw yourself in the air like you're a rag doll."
The last judge, the old man, took a frustratingly long time to comment; instead he just leaned his elbows forward onto the table, resting his chin on his wrinkled hands, glaring at her, his hazel eyes making their own examinations of the dancer before him. "Do you want this, child?" The man said, pointing his pen to the sheet of paper beneath it. "This tour, do you want it badly?"
Téa stuttered slightly before responding. "Yes Mr. Laverdière sir, I want it more than anything!" she answered fervently, her stressed voice shaking with nerves. Yami noticed that she tensed, but mostly from the hope that this man was instilling in her by giving her anything other than blunt criticisms.
"And are you willing to improve that technique of yours, if that means touring with our troupe all over the world?"
"Yes sir, I'll do whatever it takes!"
Yami believed her.
Mr. Laverdière, as Téa regarded him, rewarded her with a few considering nods and a blank, unreadable face. The whole room was watching them, now; one could hear a pin drop. Yami figured this man was a highly regarded figure in the ballet world, which was how he likely came to his current position as judge for a major company. He waited, with bated breath, on the verdict, gripping his knees in anticipation.
Without warning, Mr. Laverdière rose to his feet and threw down his pen on the table. The creaking of the chair legs against the wooden stage floor pierced through the nearly vacant venue and startled its inhabitants.
"It's time for my lunch break." The dignified, prestigious ballet figure descended haughtily down the side stairs and exited the hall without another word, leaving a mortified, broken ballerina on the stage.
Yami stood outside the venue, near the artist entrance where the auditionees came in and out. As he waited for his friend to join him, he grimly pondered what he had just witnessed, and an agitated frown stretched his lips. His arms crossed and his jaw was set tight. He did not approve of the manners of that judge. Who was he, to destroy the dreams of a young, aspiring dancer? How could he disrespect her so greatly by such a careless act of negligence and indifference? Was he not in her position at some point in his life? Did he not once dream, as she did? Exactly how far in his career did he reach, before someone stripped him of his pride in front of spectators and his most admired idols, as he had done to her?
Contempt aside, Yami was indeed proud of her, even if she ended up not being proud of herself. Téa inspired him in ways that he was certain she was not aware of. She took on challenges headfirst, believing in herself and bringing herself to her full potential so she would achieve a victory she could be proud of. Even standing in the face of blatant humiliation, she stood perfectly composed, nodded politely and exited the stage with the poise she had from the beginning… no matter what the judges said.
She knew how to lose. In truth, Yami could never hope to accept defeat like she could.
He believed he'd found the reason why the Russian woman bothered to comment on Téa's choice of music. The other dancers he saw had chosen excerpts from the Nutcracker or Swan Lake – both he happened to know to be extremely popular ballet sequences as well as orchestral repertoire. The judges had probably heard those two excerpts thousands of times in auditions alone, and it was bold – as well as advantageous, in Yami's opinion – for Téa to choose a more obscure piece to accompany her. She said it was from the ballet "Estancia", and he had never even heard of it. He also noticed, this "Danza del Trigo" was not quite as animated as the other pieces, which possibly hindered opportunities for dancers to show off their mechanical prowess. It was, instead, a tranquil and slow following of a single melody with the tempered might of a full orchestra. Téa may have not used her most difficult moves she had ever learned, but she used her routine to connect to her audience, in the most intimate way a performer could connect to their watchers. It was no longer an audition to her. It was a performance. Even if Yami were the only one who was truly watching.
After a few minutes of silent admiration, Yami glanced at the door to see Téa emerge, carrying her purse and donning a thin black sweater over her leotard. Meeting his gaze was too difficult for her, and she shied away as soon as she was aware of her presence. There was obvious hurt in her eyes, like a dog pronounced guilty. Yami hurried to her, drawing her close to him in an enveloping embrace, as she began to spill her sorrows into his shoulder.
"I feel like such a failure," sobbed Téa. "Alphonse Laverdière is one of the most renowned former male leads in ballet, and he hated my dancing! I'll never make it on the tour, there's no way I could after dancing like that." Her cries became more wild and desperate; her body trembled violently from her emotional bursts.
"Dancing like that," Yami said after a few moments, "makes you the dancer you are, Téa. Your performance was nothing short of remarkable. I was greatly impressed by you, and I saw your heart in your dancing unlike any of the dancers before you. I knew you wanted this chance, and you performed as if you wanted it. If the judges did not see that, then I pity them for being so blind."
Téa said nothing, but she seemed to cool down a bit; her ragged breathing calmed and her blubbering reduced to soft tears and sniffles. She hugged him tighter. Together, wordlessly, they held each other close, as the other dancers walked past. The sun was setting and the world turned around them, but there they stayed.
Two weeks had passed, and neither Yugi nor Yami had heard much from Téa at all. Yugi didn't see a lot of Téa at school, as she sat away from him in the back and briskly left as soon as the bell rang. He knew, from Yami's account, what happened at the audition and his efforts to console her were mostly ineffective. He also knew, from his own account, that Téa admired Yami very much, and her admiration was returned by the quiet and reserved spirit. Though he sustained his own affections for Téa, and had been for a long time, he felt a different, very real happiness at the way Yami regarded her. In his own mind, Yugi could very plainly see the strong compatibility between the two, and neither of them likely had any notion of such. He knew that the pharaoh would be the one to bring her back, even if he couldn't.
Yugi's cellphone chirped, bringing him back from his musings. "Hello?"
"Hey Yugi."
"Téa! It's great to hear from you. What's up?"
"Uh… well… I was wondering if I could… come over for a bit?"
Yugi's shift was nearly over, and there were hardly any customers anyway. "Yeah, sure! I'll be done in like fifteen minutes. Just head on over." The phone disconnected immediately, which struck Yugi as somewhat odd. Téa usually finished out the conversation, or at least would say goodbye or something. Perhaps this matter was urgent.
Sometime around fifteen minutes later, Téa pushed her way through the game shop's front entrance. The store was vacant by then, and Yugi had just finished cleaning up the loose items around the store. After all the adventures they had faced together, through the sleepless nights and long days of travel, Yugi had never seen Téa so worn and troubled. Her uniform was wrinkled, her unkempt hair looked barely combed, and her makeup-free eyes could barely stay open enough to see what's in front of her. She held a single envelope in her hand, addressed to her.
"Téa, are you okay?" Yugi asked in alarm. He was almost afraid she would pass out in front of him.
"I'm… I'm okay I guess," Téa answered. Her doleful voice hardly carried any weight. "My insomnia is back, I think."
"But you haven't had insomnia since the 7th grade!" he exclaimed.
"I know." She placed the envelope in her hand on the table in front of Yugi, and rotated it so that he could read.
"It's from the Le Cygne Ballet Company,"he read, looking up at her with a questioning gaze.
"Yes. They've sent me the verdict. Every auditionee receives a letter by mail telling them whether or not they are accepted."
Yugi looked incredulously at her. "Well, what are you waiting for? You should open it!"
Téa sheepishly rubbed her arm, her shoulders tensed. "I wanted to wait. I wanted to open it with –"
" – the Pharaoh."
Téa seemed flustered by this. Did she think Yugi did not know of her feelings for his alter ego?
"W-well it's not like I don't want to open it with you, Yugi," she tried to amend, "it's just that he came to my audition and he – "
"Yes I know. He was there for you. I get it. I'm not offended, Téa." He gave her one of his brightest, most genuine smiles to show he meant it. "I know of how you feel towards him, also." Yugi could barely contain a chortle as Téa's face glowed a perceptible red, confirming his allegations as he knew she would. Her tired eyes were open wide from astonishment and slight embarrassment.
The Puzzle emitted a bright glow, blinding Téa for a second. As the light faded, a more defined and developed figure stood before her. The Pharaoh stared intently back at her from behind the counter, his sharp violet eyes bestowing upon her his undivided attention.
"Shall we see what they have to say?" he questioned, his contrasting matured voice shifting the tone of the atmosphere.
Téa nodded. There was a tremor in her hands as she retrieved the envelope. Yami watched her closely, and would have held her hand if both hands weren't required for her task.
As Téa began to unfold the letter that was contained in the envelope, Yami interrupted her. "Téa, before you read that letter… whatever decision they have made, whether or not they deem you worthy of their company tour, just know that you are still a terrific dancer in my eyes. And in Yugi's, as well."
"Thank you." She finally gifted him with a gracious smile he only knew as her own. Keeping this girl's hopes up somehow became his top priority for the time being. The letter was completely expanded, and Téa, taking a deep, readying breath, began to read silently to herself.
A dense hush fell over the game shop. Yami desperately tried to read Téa's expression, but she kept her face neutral as her cerulean eyes studied the page. Yami struggled a bit to keep his patience, a feeling he was slightly unfamiliar with. He usually did well with patience, but for some reason this predicament kept him on his toes more than anything he'd experienced. He also noticed another attachment still in the envelope, but he dared not touch it.
"They…" Téa began, evidently subduing emotion that could either be elation or supreme disappointment. She turned the letter over, and back again to the front. Her eyes blinked wildly in disbelief. Yami wasn't sure whether he could rush to comfort her now or wait until she was ready to speak.
"Perhaps you could read it to me?" he suggested, thinking perhaps it would be easier for her.
Téa took a shuddering breath and an obliging nod.
"Dear Téa Gardener,
On behalf of the Le Cygne Ballet Company, we would like to invite you to participate in our 16 month 2006 Tour with the Le Cygne Troupe of the U.S.A., Western Europe, and the Scandinavian Peninsula*. Our judges, Anna Kolesov, Robert Abraham, and Alphonse Laverdière have noted your dancing excellence and has accepted you into the program upon your prompt confirmation. Please mail a confirmation letter as well as two professional portraits of yourself, and one full body photograph to the return address on your envelope by the 30th of this month. They must all have been taken within the last year.
Attached with this letter are your critique forms from your judges. Please review them to help further your excellence in your future performances.
We again would like to congratulate you on your acceptance to our 2006 Le Cygne Tour. We look forward to working with you in the future.
Regards,
Valerie Allard
Director of Admissions & Enrollment
Le Cygne Ballet Company."
Yami couldn't help but swell with pride and joy, as the young woman beamed at him, laughing, nearly crying. Her legs gave out from underneath her and she slowly sank to the floor. Rather than helping her up, Yami instead chose to sit there with her. They shared a moment of silent amazement, as Téa fought to subdue her tears.
"I don't understand!" she said. "I thought for sure I would be rejected! I thought the judges hated my dancing! How could they have accepted me?"
The pharaoh reached up to the counter from his sitting position on the floor and grabbed the envelope, bringing it down to Téa's hands. "The simple answer is that you are an outstanding dancer. But perhaps the answer you're looking for lies in the judges' written critique. You should take a look at these as well."
From within the envelope, Téa uncovered a photocopy of each judge's handwritten scribble on a separate form with her name on it, and the accompaniment piece she used. "Beautiful rises, pointe technique nearly flawless, arm positions graceful and precise?! Are these the same judges who humiliated me when I was on stage?"
"They possibly did not intend to humiliate you, Téa," he explained, "but they were bringing up the smallest details because you gave them something to look for."
She still didn't seem convinced. "But Laverdière…"
"Well, what did he have to say?"
Téa shuffled through her bundle of papers before settling on the one she sought. "Takes criticism well. If Gardener continues to improve and carries her strong will through the journey, we could be looking at the next young Anna Pavlova."
Yami wasn't at all familiar with that name, but the mention of it seemed to affect Téa greatly. Her hands dropped to her lap, letting the sheet of paper slide from her hands and drift to the floor. Her face was fixed on a dazed, sort of dreamy expression, as if her soul was suspended from her body for the moment.
"Anna Pavlova? Is she a good dancer?"
Téa met his eyes, though her expression hardly changed. "Good? Anna Pavlova is a goddess amongst women. She's a very famous Russian prima ballerina. She trademarked the famous 'The Dying Swan' dance. Practically every ballerina wants to be her."
She smiled coyly at him. "You could even say she's the champion of ballet, like you're the champion of Duel Monsters."
He grinned. "Well, you know I'm no champion. I just duel with my heart, especially if my victory ensures the safety of my friends. But this Anna Pavlova girl, she probably dances with heart, too. Just like you. That judge seemed to have given you quite the compliment."
"It's the only way I know how to dance. And it's probably the best compliment I could think of."
Suddenly, a wave of wild delight covered the face of the brunette dancer, as if she had just fully processed the revelation, the thrill of her success. Her eyes popped open wide, and her mouth stretched into the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her.
"I… I made it!" she squealed, covering her face in her hands for a brief second before removing them for another excited shout. "I got accepted!"
Yami rose to his feet, and extended his hand to help her up as well. Even as Téa stood again, she nearly doubled over in sheer joy at the news. It was as if all the emotions she had suppressed from her disbelief were being released all at once, and her body could barely contain the outburst. It took a moment, but the tears finally came. Gloriously happy tears streamed from her eyes. The pharaoh, sharing her moment and delight, drew closer to offer an affectionate, but appropriately platonic gesture of congratulations…
…when he suddenly felt a pair of warm, soft lips upon his.
And just as quickly as he realized what was happening, it was withdrawn. The pharaoh, not expecting that turnaround, felt a hot blush cross his face. He was not given a moment to think of what had just happened, as he did not even see her approach him or point her pair of lips in the direction of his. Was his reaction time always this slow?
The pleasure in Téa's face had noticeably melted away into an amalgam of absolute panic, guilt, and regret. Her shaking fingers had set on her lips, as if scolding them for their actions. The two remained as they were, staring into each other's eyes – Yami's head spinning and heart tumbling from what had just happened, and Téa nearly fainting from her embarrassment. Confusion and tension thickened the air between them. Neither had any idea what to say.
"What – "
"I am so sorry!" Téa hastily interrupted him, overcome by her shame. "I… I didn't mean to... I mean, I don't know what came over me. I was just so happy, and you were there, and… and…"
Stepping closer to her, Yami brought her to silence with his close presence. Téa continued to give him that apprehensive, remorseful stare; and in truth, he loathed it. No one has pure and caring as Téa should ever wear such an expression, especially when she had just mounted a hefty victory.
"Please don't look at me like that," he requested with a light smile. "It almost seems like you regretted it."
She offered him no response, so he opted to continue. "Téa, you are an extraordinary young woman. Not only are you kind, selfless and loyal, but you are a talented dancer who never gave up on your dreams. Today you took a huge step towards those dreams that you chase. You inspire me greatly, and a kiss from you I regard as nothing else but a precious gift."
Yami ran his hands up her neck and let them settle on her jawbones. "Please allow me to offer you my congratulations, in the way I want to."
And their lips he joined together, pulling a light, surprised moan from Téa's throat. He felt her arms snake around his waist and pull him closer to hers. The kiss was tightly pressed yet controlled, simply just a feeling of heavenly union for them to share.
The moment was interrupted, however only for Yami, by Yugi's cheering and encouragement in Yami's head. The spirit playfully hushed the boy, knowing full well Yugi basically planned for this to happen and was only celebrating his success. In fact, Yugi had been the one to suggest that Yami go support her in her audition, rather than him. When Yami tried to protest that it should've been him to go, Yugi assured him that Téa did indeed think a lot of him, and would draw inspiration from him that Yugi perhaps was unable to do. Yami had been baffled a bit at how Téa could hold him in such high esteem – him being only a nameless spirit and all. Did Téa really think that highly of him?
Now, within his exchange of affection with Téa, Yugi's intentions were clear as day. Yugi was always keen on knowing people well. He knew Téa would be good for him, and that he would be good for her, somehow. Their lips parted, and he finally got a good look at her. She was stunning, in every sense of the word, in every way a person could be. She now bore on her shoulders a triumph that would lift her towards her golden dreams.
"I am extremely proud of you," he told her, trapping her eyes within his locked gaze. "…and I am rather fond of you, as well. I am sorry for not being able to express it in the right way, but kissing you seems to be a good start."
Téa giggled eagerly, pecking him shortly on the lips, before replying, "I am yours to kiss whenever you like."
A howl of delight resounded in the pharaoh's mind, which was met with another loud hush. In truth, Yami cared for Yugi far too much to actually be bothered by it. Nevertheless, Yugi finally faded into a more private corner of his mind, away from the temptation to intrude.
"I am honored, my young Anna Pavlova."
Three months later…
The Ceremonial Battle had finally come to close, rendering Yugi the victor. A wave of relief and finality drenched the room, as the doorway to the Afterlife opened to the one who announced his name as "Atem", formerly known as Yami, Spirit, or Pharaoh. To Téa, he was also known as "Love".
It was remarkably apparent how Atem regarded each one of his friends with respect, loyalty, and acknowledgement of each of their individualized values. He took his time saying his goodbyes, spending a great deal of time with Yugi especially; after all, they did share a mind for something around four years. Téa was last, and by this time the group knew very well of their – now inevitably doomed – romance. Atem looked long and hard at her, locking her weeping azure eyes with his, as he took both her hands.
"I believe you have a dream to chase," he regarded her upcoming tour.
It took Téa most of her everything to control her grieving tears as she spoke. "Yeah, rehearsals in New York start in two weeks." Through increasingly demanding sniffles, she continued, "We're performing at the American Ballet Theater in June!"
He gave her his most genuine smile. "That's great. I know you will be incredible. This must be very exciting for you."
After a moment, he noticed Téa failing to keep her emotions stable. She shook her head sadly, her sorrow twisting a deep frown on her mouth and pulling more tears from her eyes. Her bowed head released her hair to fall like a drawn curtain to hide her face. Her shoulders shook, and Atem brought her to him to quell them as best he could, hugging her tightly through her tremors, just as he did outside the community theater after her audition. Only this time, she would be going on to her dream tour.
"Téa, you must promise me something." He pulled her up from his arms to meet her gaze. "Promise me that you will go on to dance all over the world, and let nothing or no one keep you from pursuing your dreams. That includes my departure. Don't let this hold any bearing on your future. Dance not as a 'young Anna Pavlova', but as yourself, as Téa Gardener."
Slowly, but with more surety as moments passed, she obliged him with a nod. Atem's hand came up to tenderly caress her fair face, letting the tears trail on his fingers. His thumb smoothed over her lips. Her royal blue eyes, though glossy, glittered brilliantly in the chamber's dim light.
"You've never looked more beautiful."
A final kiss he placed on her lips, just long enough to capture her memory in his heart, one more time. He released her hands and turned his back to her. He forced his feet to step forward, hating himself for having to leave her like that. He felt as if he was resisting against a powerful current, trying to bring him back to her. But his time was expiring quickly in this world, and there was no other place for him than where he was heading. If he had turned to look at her again, he would never be able to bring himself to the portal after that.
He'd find a way to see her perform. No matter what, he'd find a way.
END
*Two notes:
a) "Le Cygne" means "The Swan" in French; though Anna Pavlova and her choreographer modeled the solo ballet sequence after a poem called "The Dying Swan" by Alfred Tennyson, hence the dance known as "The Dying Swan" and the orchestral piece (a movement from Saint-Saëns 'Carnival of the Animals') is known as "The Swan".
b) I wrote "2006" because the last episode aired in 2006, and in my timeline, Téa goes off to start rehearsals that same year, during the summer. In case you were wondering.