The Dance
Disclaimer: I own neither Mint nor Ryou nor Tokyo Mew Mew.
A/N: You would think that there would be *some* videos of Spanish dancing on youtube. Surely it's not that strange a thing to want to watch. Oops, have I just given the game away?
Anyway, this is my first ever Minto-centric fic. I have now done one for each of the Mews! Plus, let this oneshot stand as testimony to the fact that I am not a Ryou-basher! I resent him stealing Lettuce away from Pai, that's all. I'm perfectly cool with him in himself. He even got awesome in Accidentally-On-Purpose, go read that!
Anyway, this oneshot is dedicated to Kitty-Kat K.O, winner of my Alternate Pairings contest. Go read her fic! And many thanks, KO, for opening me up to the characters of Mint and Ryou. Sorry that I didn't come up on the humour much, but you can't force that.
Anyway, my descriptions are lame and I don't even know what I'm describing, so I highly recommend you go and find some youtube videos to watch while you read this, just so that you have a mental image for the kind of dancing they're doing.
Mint's body was frozen in panic, her heart racing. A warning siren in her mind was blaring that this was possibly the worst situation she had ever found herself in – and this time, ironically, she couldn't fight. She couldn't transform. She couldn't call for help. She could only draw in a deep breath and stammer, pleadingly,
'What?'
'Minto.' The dance teacher was slender. She wore shimmery eyeshadow and shell-pink lipstick. Her face wore a gentle, understanding expression, and her eyes were very cold.
'Minto,' she said, 'I'm afraid there is nothing I can do about this. For years you have been one of our best dancers – the little star of the group – but I think that this time you just aren't appropriate for the lead dancer. With the way your style is developing...' She paused, and just for a second Mint saw the distaste flickering in her eyes. 'Well, your takes on the last few routines have been very...individual, and original, but I don't think that they are quite what we're looking for this time round. The Dances of the Swans are meant to be delicate, after all, and half the time, with the way you dance...' She gave a tinkling laugh. 'Really, Minto, you look so fierce.'
'But I...' Mint tried to speak, but stopped as she felt sudden tears welling in her eyes. She couldn't understand this. She was often exhausted from fighting with the Mews these days, but despite that her dancing had felt better than ever – to her at least. She had never felt so in touch with her own body, so confident in all her movements, so graceful, so powerful...her legs bore her through leaps and runs and pirouettes like they were nothing, and she no longer glanced sidelong into the studio mirrors as she danced – she knew that she was moving right. She could feel it.
So why this? Why didn't they want her to dance the lead in the recital?
'Come now, Minto, don't take it to heart.' The ballet teacher had seen her eyes growing bright, and hurried to soothe her. 'You know that at this studio we always choose the very best student for each role – your past performances with us wouldn't be worth as much if we didn't, would they? But, just this once, I feel that you aren't grasping the dance...this is the very best preparation you can have for the profession, Minto. You know that, don't you?'
'Yes, Madame,' Mint nodded miserably. She knew that to beg and plead now would be degrading, and would do her no good. She changed out of her dancing clothes, re-tied her hair and managed to be outside and on her way before the tears came.
'Welcome to Café Mew Mew! May I take your order, nya?'
Mint closed her eyes, hastily setting down her teacup because her hand was shaking so badly. Could Ichigo not drop her cute, preppy act and behave calmly for five minutes together?
She was miserable, and nobody cared. Pudding, dashing around on her ball to take orders, didn't care. Ichigo, her attention equally divided between charming the customers and thinking of her boyfriend, didn't care. Lettuce probably couldn't even imagine that Mint might be feeling insecure. Looking over at the nervous girl, Mint practically wanted to shake her. Did she think that she had the monopoly on self-doubt? And Zakuro...
Mint took a hasty gulp of tea, hoping desperately that it would calm her. Zakuro most definitely did not care.
'Minto!'
Mint jumped nearly out of her skin, slopping tea down her front. Fabulous. She wondered how many more little knocks like this she could take before she broke down in front of everyone.
'What is it, Ichigo-san?' she asked, hoping that the cat-Mew who had just interrupted her tea break couldn't hear the tremor in her voice.
'Why is it that I am working so hard while you have the time to sit here sipping tea? Don't tell me you're on your tea break! You are permanently on your break! I don't even know how you can stand to swallow so much tea; you must drink like a camel!'
'So?' Mint said, when it looked as though Ichigo had temporarily run out of steam. 'Your point?'
'Will you please get up and do some work?'
Mint put on her best cold sneer. 'Is there any reason why I should be up to my elbows in soap-suds with people like you, Ichigo?'
She hadn't expected what happened next. Ichigo seized the teapot with a shriek and jerked it, sloshing the contents towards Mint. They weren't hot enough to burn, but Mint tried to dart out of the way of the staining brown liquid. Her hand caught Ichigo's, trying to push it away, and the teapot slipped from between Ichigo's fingers and landed in the sugar bowl, smashing them both.
White sugar sprayed across the cloth. The café fell silent. A stream of tea flowed over the table and began to dribble from the edge.
'I...you...' Mint gasped, mopping at her front with her handkerchief. 'You –'
'What on Earth is going on here girls?'
Ryou had arrived on the scene, hands on hips, expression furious. 'What are you two doing?' he demanded. 'Who started this?'
'Ichigo was suggesting that Minto take her turn at work,' Zakuro said from behind him. Her voice was no different than usual – low, clear, a little dry, and a little cold. 'Minto made some rather hurtful comments, and Ichigo threw a pot of tea in her face.'
'Right,' Ryou said, breathing out heavily through his nose. 'Zakuro and Retasu, please make apologies to the customers for the disturbance. Ichigo –'
Mint sank into her chair, put her head in her hands and began to weep.
'Minto-chan!' Ichigo exclaimed. 'Minto, are you OK?' Mint almost laughed through her tears. Ichigo was so impulsive; she would forget that she had been someone's enemy a split second ago, and turn around to comfort them...of course, that made everybody think she was so damn cute...
She jerked her shoulder violently, shaking off Ichigo's outstretched hand, trying to at least make her sobs silent since she couldn't stop them altogether.
'Right,' Ryou grunted, obviously taken aback as she continued to sit without looking up. 'Ichigo, get this mess cleaned up. Minto, you're staying behind after work.'
'Sh-shirogane-san?' She could hear Lettuce speaking as Ryou made to head back towards the kitchen. 'Don't you think you should...I mean...'
'Retasu,' Ryou sighed, 'stop worrying. I know what I'm doing; I have to be fair. Now go on. Get back to work.'
After a few moments Mint pulled herself together enough to look round her. The café was very quiet, everybody gawking sidelong at the blue waitress having an emotional breakdown in the corner. Carefully drying her eyes, she hurried across the café and into the changing rooms, locking the door behind her. She sat down on the long bench, not bothering to switch on the light, and let herself cry more loudly for a while. Then she sat up and wondered what to do.
It was cowardly, she knew, but she couldn't face going back out into the café again. Anything she did would be wrong. If she began to help, they would think they'd got to her. Maybe they would be gentle and forgiving, encouraging her for agreeing to pitch in and pull her weight. That she couldn't stand. But on the other hand, if she went back to sitting in the corner and sipping tea – her stomach twisted – she definitely couldn't stand to drink any more tea – well, that clearly wasn't an option either.
Nobody came in to look for her. She was grateful for that. In the end, she just stayed where she was, her head tipped back against the wall, listening as the café gradually quieted down around her. The clock on the wall reached five pm, and she heard the familiar sounds of the other Mews calling goodbye to the last few customers, the 'closed' sign being flipped round, buckets of hot, soapy water being set down in the eating area.
She waited until she had heard all the Mews leave, then splashed her face with water, tidied her hair, and stepped out into the café.
About half the cleaning up had been done – she supposed that, since she was staying late, she was expected to do extra work. And she had never done any before. Never mind, she knew how it was done. The café was silent; at least there was no one to witness her shame. A bucket of water and a cloth sat waiting on one of the tables. Mint plunged the cloth into the water, slopped it onto the table and began to scrub.
She shifted the bucket to the floor so that she could clear the whole of the table, and as she did so she caught sight of her own bag, sitting in the corner. It was closed, the drawstrings pulled tight shut, but she knew what she would find inside it. Her ballet slippers, among other things. Abruptly furious, Mint kicked the bucket of water out of her way and stepped round the table. The bucket moved farther than she had expected, water slopping over its sides. Mint looked down at her bare leg, still poised in the air, and clenched her teeth. Her calf was packed with muscles like a footballer's, bulging out when she bent her leg. She remembered attending the ballet with her father when she was small, peering through his theatre glasses and being astonished to see how the ballerinas' delicate limbs, close to, were roped and corded with muscle. But even that had been nothing like this. She looked positively chunky.
There was foundation on her calf, carefully blended into her skin. Beneath it, Mint could faintly make out a long red weal: a memento from her last fight. Tears stung her eyes. She was turning into some grizzled warrior. No wonder they wouldn't let her dance!
Mint gave a strangled shriek and hurled her washcloth at the wall. She lashed out with her foot again, and this time she knocked the bucket right over. Soapy water flooded across the polished floor.
Mint gave a groan and slumped against the table, gripping the edges for support. 'Damn it!' she whispered. 'Damn it, damn it, damn it –'
'Minto?'
Mint bit her lip. Shirogane. Of course she had known that he and Keiichiro would still be around somewhere, but the building had been so silent that she had all but forgotten them. Without turning, she gave an exasperated sigh and seized her washcloth, scrubbing it roughly across the table once more. Well, she wasn't going to answer him. Let him think what he liked.
She heard a faint click as he picked up the broom that had been leaning against the wall, and the faint swish of the floor being swept. He didn't say anything, and neither did she. They worked quietly for a time, and the silence almost began to feel companionable. When Ryou reached the spilled water on the floor, he swapped his broom for the mop without comment. Mint watched him move gradually into her field of vision, mopping. Finally he came over to her table and said,
'Minto, let me do that.'
Mint gave up the cloth without question and collapsed into the nearest chair, too tired to be confused. He finished off the table and then turned to her, wringing out the cloth, and said without preamble,
'What's wrong?'
'Nani?' Mint spluttered.
'I said, "what's wrong"? Why do you think I kept you behind? You're obviously bothered about something.'
'Well...' Mint stammered, bewildered by his brusque but apparently genuine concern. 'I...it's...'
She struggled, and he sighed.
'Do you want me to fetch Akasaka? He's better than I am at this sort of thing.'
'No,' Mint said decidedly. The last thing she wanted was somebody trying to 'understand' her. At least with Ryou she could be as prickly as she liked. 'I...' She closed her eyes for a moment. She's been behaving ridiculously today, first crying like a baby and then throwing things around like some sort of ruffian. But now she pulled her ladylike demeanour back around her. The explanation she offered Ryou was cool, polite and to the point.
'I've been taken off the lead in my dance recital.'
'Ah,' Ryou said. 'I see. Um...do you know why?'
Mint shook her head miserably. 'No. The dance teacher only said that my "interpretation" of the dance wasn't what she was looking for. She didn't offer me any advice for how to improve it, she never gave me a chance...'
She could feel herself getting hysterical again, but Ryou didn't make any comment.
'It felt so good, when I was dancing it,' Mint whispered. 'I thought I was dancing my best ever. But I was wrong...'
'Hmm...' Ryou mused, cupping his chin and frowning. 'How nasty for you...yes.' He paused for a moment, then looked up. 'May I see this dance?'
'Oh!' Mint was taken aback. '...yes, I don't see why not.'
She stood up and wriggled out of her skirt, ignoring Ryou's surprised look. She didn't care; her ballet costume was far more revealing than the ruffled, knee-length underclothes she wore with her uniform, and besides, who cared what Ryou thought? She had been right not to ask for Keiichiro. He was so refined that stripping to her knickers in front of him would have been impossible. But Ryou could take it in his stride.
She walked over to her bag and pulled out her ballet slippers. She laced them quickly up her calves, her practised fingers making short work of the satin ribbons, and then stood and performed a few quick stretches, warming up.
'It's the Swan's Dance from Swan Lake,' she said, turning back to Ryou. He nodded once, and she took a deep breath and began to dance.
As she moved, sadness filled her again, but it was a calmer sorrow now, almost sweet. She should have done this earlier; despite her eagerness for success, and her tendency to show off, deep down she loved the dancing for itself. And even if the teacher didn't want her any more, she couldn't take away the pleasure that Mint had in dancing. She danced without music, in her uniform and ruffled shorts, her infallible shoes supporting her feet as she ran and twisted and leapt on the half-swept cafe floor. She danced with eyes half-closed, her mind recalling and counting each beat of the song perfectly. Occasionally she pulled herself back to the real world, silent except for the drum of her feet and her deep breathing. She wondered what Ryou was getting from all this. Did he know the music well enough that he could hear it in his head, as she did? Or was it silent for him? But mostly she dreamed. She wasn't in the café at all. She was among the swans.
She finished the dance and stood still, a little dazed. She was out of breath, she realised. She'd been dancing hard. Ryou was staring – at her or through her, she couldn't tell – and thinking very hard, judging by the expression on his face.
'Well?' she said at last. 'What do you think? What's wrong with it?'
Another maddening pause. Just when she was about to yell at him, he stirred himself and said,
'Minto, are you free this evening?'
'Yes, I suppose so,' she said warily.
'Will you come somewhere with me then?' he asked. 'Call home to let your family know.'
'Huh? What shall I tell them?'
'Tell them that your boss is taking you out,' Ryou said, shrugging into his coat. 'It's five forty-five now, isn't it? Tell them you'll be back by eight o'clock.'
'Where are we going?'
'To an evening class,' Ryou said. 'A dance class. You'll enjoy it. Go and get changed. I'll wait for you here.
Twenty minutes later they were on an underground train, swaying from the ceiling straps. Mint wondering what on Earth had just happened, and Ryou apparently unperturbed.
'What is this dance class?' she said, determined to regain a little control over the situation.
'It's at a studio where I used to take lessons,' he replied. 'My parents said that every man ought to learn ballroom dancing.'
A couple got up and left the train. Ryou immediately flopped down in one of the vacated seats and reached for a magazine. He shifted to the side, leaving the adjacent seat free, but Mint was still too bewildered to act, and another man moved forward and took it.
Ryou looked up from his magazine, saw her still standing and tutted.
'You should be sitting down, Minto,' he said, not altering his own slumped posture against the seat. 'You need the strength in your legs if you're going to be dancing.'
Mint ground her teeth. Sometimes it wasn't hard to see why Ichigo got into screaming fights with this man on a regular basis.
'Anyway,' Ryou said, turning a page, 'Akasaka kept my lessons going until I turned fifteen, when I decided to focus more on my science, in particular...' He nodded towards her, clearly not wanting to say the words 'Mew Project' in the middle of a crowded carriage. Mint sighed.
'So anyway, I haven't been there for over a year now, but they'll still remember me. It's an active studio, but not crowded; it will be fine for us to turn up without booking. This class starts at six fifteen and continues until seven thirty. An hour and fifteen minutes. But the evening class isn't ballroom. It's Latin.'
'What?' Mint said.
'Don't say "what," say "pardon." Anyway, you'll be fine. You know how to move and how to stay in time with the music, even if you've never had experience of this particular style, and if your "interpretation" is no longer suitable for ballet...well, maybe it's time to consider branching out, ne?' He looked up at her from wide blue eyes, one arm draped across the back of the seat, looking incredibly smug.
A seat emptied opposite him and Mint crumpled into it, disinclined to bother with things like correct posture right now.
'OK, fine,' she sighed. 'I suppose it can't hurt.'
'Shirogane-kun!' the dance teacher exclaimed, welcoming Ryou with a kiss on each cheek. 'How lovely to see you again after all this time! I trust you've kept up your dancing? You know he was the star pupil of my children's class, back when he was eleven?' she said, turning to Mint. 'I'm thrilled to see him returning with such an elegant partner.' She clasped Mint's hand and kissed her, too.
'Uh...yes...I didn't know he used to take lessons,' Mint babbled. Stupid! After all the lessons in etiquette she'd had, she should have been able to appear gracious, calm and self-assured with a few easy sentences. She definitely shouldn't be blushing and stammering like a fool. She looked at the dance teacher, who had lustrous dark eyes and thick, grey-flecked black hair pinned into a bun at the back of her head, wore golden hoops in her ears and was the voluptuous opposite of her ballet teacher, and then down at her own plain grey skirt and blouse. She felt horribly out of place, overly-formal and under-dressed at the same time. What had Ryou been thinking, dragging her here?
But when she stepped into the room, she saw that it would be impossible to feel out of place. There were people in ruffled flamenco dresses and people in polo shirts and track pants, a couple in their sixties and a girl with an engagement ring sparkling on her finger. The room was brightly lit, with mirrors at the front and back but not down the sides, and the floorboards were varnished the colour of melted honey.
'Alright!' the dance teacher bellowed. Her voice, strongly accented Japanese, resounded easily over the chatter of the dancers. 'Everybody find a space to warm up in. Juan!' She turned to a ruggedly handsome, middle-aged man sitting at the piano. 'Music, please. And everybody...stretch!'
Mint relaxed. This, at least, she remembered. She could touch her toes, do the splits, lift her heel up beside her ear and bend over backwards far enough to place her hands flat on the floor, all without breaking a sweat. They warmed up for ten minutes, and then the teacher waved for quiet and made her way over to a CD player perched on a chair in the corner.
'The Spanish festival salsa!' she declared, with the air of someone whipping out a splendid, exciting present from some hidden pocket. 'We will begin work on this dance tonight. First, you will listen to the music.'
She pressed play.
Mint jumped as the music filled the room. She knew that she had never danced to anything this fast, or this loud. It had a rapid, infectious beat that made her toes twitch in their shoes, and all the musicians sounded thoroughly carried away...the teacher let it play for five minutes, and then switched the player off.
'It sounds like fun, ne? Come on now, everybody line up, ladies in one row, gentlemen opposite. Let's go go go!'
Mint scrambled into line between a woman in a scarlet top and the girl with the engagement ring. Ryou slouched to his place opposite her, looking rather awkward and teenagerish – she caught his eye and smirked.
'So, it is a carnival dance between the young men and women of the town!' The teacher's accent was becoming more pronounced with excitement. 'First the lovely ladies make their dance, to show off their skill. Then the gentlemen come forward, and each one will try his best to impress the girl he loves the most. Then in the final section we all take a partner. In carnival week this is the part where it gets a little messy, but we all know our partners here, ne? Alright then!'
First she demonstrated the women's part. Juan reproduced the music on the piano, where it sounded strange, rambunctious and melancholy at the same time. When they kicked their legs out to the side and leaned their heads back, several people staggered and the older woman said, 'ow.' But the girl beside Minto said, 'hey, you're good.'
'Thank you,' Mint said, without the presence of mind to sound anything but surprised and pleased. But maybe she didn't need to sound like anything else. The people around her didn't seem to realise that she'd been brought up on a diet of coolly competitive ballet; they seemed to like her, automatically.
'Take a breather, girls,' the teacher said, and turned to instruct the boys. Mint moved to the side of the room and watched Ryou dancing in the centre of the line. He slowly relaxed as the lesson progressed, exchanging joking remarks that she couldn't hear with the other men. He seemed, now that she noticed, to be quite good at it. He picked up the steps quickly, executed them sharply, and when he dropped down into the splits, slamming both palms flat against the floor, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
'I didn't know he could do that!' she said to the room in general.
'He used to drop into the Latin class from time to time,' one of the women said. 'But I think he's had some martial arts training too, to be that flexible. He's very good, isn't he?'
'He's going to tear his jeans in a moment, though,' the engaged girl smirked. 'Showoff.'
Mint turned away, back to the dance. That made sense; she supposed that Ryou would have learned to defend himself before getting involved in anything as dangerous as the Mew project. And when she thought back to the party he and Keiichiro had held, back when it was just her, Ichigo and Lettuce, his dancing didn't seem so surprising either.
'Now everybody come together!'
The two lines formed up.
'Now, you will have noticed we have two new – well, one new, one new-ish member – with us today, so when we come to the partnered section, we will change partners around the group, so that we can all get to know one another. Now, one, two, three –'
She hit the button on the CD player.
It was immediately far faster than with the piano, but Mint didn't care. She knew how to remember dance steps. She moved with the other girls – legs up, heels flicking out, mimicking the way they flexed and pointed their hands as they moved. The men's dance was fiercer – lots of sharp movements and high kicks. She noticed that, while the group hardly looked like a professional dance troupe, they all seemed very familiar with the style. It was more than just accomplishment – it was a fundamental ease with the movements. And Ryou looked as easy as any of them.
'And take your partners!' the teacher cried. She was dancing on the end of the line; freed from the piano, Juan was her partner. Oh, help, Mint thought. Ryou grabbed her hand – ow – and they began to dance.
She had never tried to dance with a partner before. She wasn't used to being led. Ryou grimaced as she stepped on his foot.
'Sorry!' she said.
'Don't mention it,' he grunted, spinning her sharply around into the arms of her new partner, a man in his late twenties.
'What's your name?' he shouted over the music.
'Aizawa Minto!'
'Haven't you done recitals with Tokyo Ballet Studio before? I saw a performance; you were incredible. So what made you decide to try Latin?'
'He made me,' Mint said, jerking her head towards Ryou. The man laughed and spun away.
She made a breathless round of every dancer in the room, bluffing her way through the steps, sometimes flat-out improvising, and finally landed up back with Ryou.
'Shirogane-san –' pivot, turn – 'why did you take me to this class?'
'I have a hypothesis,' he said. The dance spun them sharply apart; he executed a few solo steps, caught hold of her hand and brought them back together.
'What kind of a hypothesis?'
'To do with your dancing problem. I'll explain it once I've done my research.'
'What's your resear – ack!' she yelped as he dipped her sharply down and back up again.
'Minto-san, trust me. And try to listen to the rhythm; your footwork is appalling.'
Mint gave up all pretence of dancing, folding her arms across her chest.
'Ichigo-san is right; you're insufferable.'
Ryou shrugged, and the dance drew to a close.
'That was excellent work, people,' the dance teacher said. 'A very good beginning. Shall we put the kettle on?'
And under Mint's incredulous eyes, tea, coffee, coca-cola, biscuits and chocolate brownies appeared on a table at the back of the room.
Mint drifted towards the food, suddenly aware of the empty gnawing of her stomach, and all the liquids and salts she'd lost in sweat. She couldn't have imagined anything more different from her ballet class if she'd tried. Oh, they had been told about the importance of proper nutrition, of staying hydrated and of consuming high-energy foods before performances – they had been told constantly, but to have food actually available during the practice like this – that was something else.
'Damn, I need sugar,' Ryou muttered, brushing past her. He downed three plastic cups of coke in quick succession, dashed around the table collecting a selection of biscuits and cakes, and came back to lean against the wall beside her, already chewing.
Mint stared.
'Oh, sorry,' he said with his mouth full, noticing her expression. He offered his paper plate. 'Brownie?'
Mint shook her head, fighting back the urge to laugh hysterically, and took one. At this stage, it was probably the line of least resistance.
'So, Minto-chan, you must have danced before, no?' said the teacher, in a way that included the whole room in the conversation.
'Er...yes,' Mint answered.
'She dances ballet,' Ryou said, munching. 'Really well. Been at it since she was...how old, Minto?'
'Four,' Mint said, blinking.
'Oh, superb!' the teacher exclaimed. 'A real artist! We dance for pleasure here, and try to learn the steps as well as we can, but still, it's just a hobby. We don't often get a new couple who can already dance; you must perform for us.'
'I've never done partnered dancing before,' Mint said dubiously.
'Oh, but you danced so well just now! Well, anyway, once you've had something to drink, you must do some ballet for us. And we shall have a tango, I think, before we say goodnight. They are something of a class speciality; we will show you how it's done. Shirogane-kun already knows, or course.'
'The basics,' Ryou said modestly, licking crumbs off his fingers.
Mint sighed and took a gulp of coke.
'Alright,' she said. Ah, a little of her ladylike manner was coming back. That was good. 'I would be delighted to dance for you.'
'Is there a song you would like?'
'Oh, any music is fine,' Mint smiled.
'Excellent. Juan!' the teacher called. 'The piano!'
The pianist sat down and struck a chord. His eyes met Mint's as she walked slowly into the middle of the room, and he played a little more, searchingly. Slow, delicate, moonlit chords. Good heavens, Mint thought. He's a genius. Well, it's perfect. She pointed her toe, and then leapt, turned...spread her arms like a swan and ran the full length of the room on the tips of her toes. Came to a sudden halt, turned, bent, balanced...and she realised that already she was moving her hands in the Latin shapes. The two styles seemed to blend well, but she wasn't quite sure what they were making. Something elegant, powerful, sensual...she felt abruptly self-conscious, and fell back into some of the more traditional steps that she remembered from her ballet lessons. A sharp spring into the air, kicking up both legs and landing poised on one toe, drew a sigh from her audience, and Mint found herself comparing this performance to others on the floodlit stage. To dance, not as a distant figure set apart for her talent, but to entertain a room full of friends, was something she had never done before, and she was surprised by how it felt. Pleasant. Dancing for pleasure, as the teacher had said. Sharing her talent.
She turned and found herself face-to-face with Ryou. He took her hand without a word as the music surged louder. He steered her in a series of quick pirouettes under his raised arm, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that the others were pairing up and moving out to join them. But they were all still watching her, either openly or with half and eye as they settled into the dance themselves. She had never felt stage-fright like this before. She swallowed hard and focussed on Ryou, who guided her in clean, swift steps around the centre of the floor, one hand on her waist, the other in hers. She couldn't tell what she thought of this: dancing with Shirogane Ryou. She didn't try to figure it out. She let her eyes go out of focus, the room and even his face growing fuzzy around the edges, and concentrated on moving her feet. Ryou was random. Why waste effort trying to understand him? Either he would explain or he wouldn't; in the meantime, she might as well dance.
The music drew to a close, the last few chords dropping into the silence. Mint blinked hard as the dancers grew still. There was a pause, and then Ryou dropped her hand.
'Oh, Minto-chan, that was beautiful!' the teacher said. 'Such an original style, such a powerful style. I think you dance beautifully together. And thank you, Juan!'
She nodded towards the piano, and everybody applauded. Juan came and stood beside the teacher, one hand lightly on her waist, and bowed elegantly. There was a gentle laugh, and people began to file out of the room.
'I'll see you home,' Ryou said, grabbing her coat and holding it for her while she slid her arms into it. 'It's not safe for a young lady to be out alone after dark.'
'You're bi-polar, you know that?' she said.
Ryou chuckled. 'And you are impossible to please.'
'You think so?' Mint said, snappishly but not altogether angrily. 'You haven't tried it for any length of time yet.'
She turned and strode towards the exit. Ryou hurried after her and caught her arm.
'So if I was uniformly lovely, would you be pleased?' he asked.
'No, probably not,' she said, stepping away from his hand. 'I would be very suspicious.'
She turned away again. Ryou paused, smiling to himself for a moment, and then followed her out into the night.
Every day she did her day's work at Café Mew Mew, quietly stepping in to help – to a certain extent – for the sake of peace. Every weekend she danced with the ballet class – in the middle of a square of delicately gesturing students, while Ikisatashi Rio took the lead – and two evenings a week she and Ryou would sneak out to the Latin dance class. She wasn't quite sure why she thought of it as sneaking; only that nobody besides she and Ryou knew exactly what they were doing, and had anybody asked her to explain, she would have drawn a blank.
The day of the recital found Mint sitting in a dressing-room shared with three other girls, dressed, warmed up and ready to go, and in something of a mood. She had decided firmly that one recital didn't really matter – as the teacher had said while trying to placate her, this might only be a temporary setback, besides which there was her epiphany in the Latin class and the fate of the Earth to consider – but still, she didn't have to enjoy it. She hadn't shared a dressing-room in years. The steps bored her, and the ballet mistress was breezing around all smiles, delivering flowers and cards and good-lucks to the dancers as though she were a mother hen and not a cold-hearted snake-woman who would throw a girl off her part without the slightest explanation –
There was a knock at the door, and said snake leaned her head around.
'All ready are we, girls?' she trilled. 'Yuzu, mummy asked me to tell you good luck, and...ah, Minto.' She brought her hand into the room, and Mint saw that it was holding the biggest bunch of roses she had ever seen. 'These are for you.'
'Arigatou,' Mint said, very calm and polite. She took the flowers carefully, her head ringing with shock, and placed them in one of the vases that were placed on the dressing-table for this purpose. The flowers half-obscured the mirror.
'Well...dance well, girls.' The ballet teacher gave a stiff smile and closed the door.
Mint stood where she was for a moment, looking at the roses. Then she swiftly plucked one out of the bouquet and slipped through the door, closing it softly behind her.
They weren't really supposed to be walking around now; they should have been on standby in their dressing rooms by now. Mint walked quietly down the corridor to the end dressing room. The sign on the door red Ikisatashi Rio.
Mint knocked.
She was small, but the girl who answered was even smaller. A year younger than Mint, with porcelain skin, limbs still slender despite the ballerina-muscles, her silvery-blonde hair scraped back from her face and secured with pins. When she had first been given the lead role, Mint had hated her for being younger than her and still better, but now she felt nothing but sympathy for this frail-looking girl.
'Minto-sensei!' Rio squeaked. 'Ano...yes?'
Mint smiled at her. 'This is for you.' She held out the rose. 'For good luck.'
'I...' Rio blushed. 'Arigato, Minto-sensei.'
'This is your first time dancing the lead, isn't it?'
'Hai.'
'Enjoy it. Nothing feels so wonderful. Trust your body. I know you'll be beautiful.'
'Arigato,' Rio said again, ducking her head.
'I'll see you onstage,' Mint said, turning away.
Not the most memorable of performances. For the first time that Mint could recall, her mind wasn't focussed on the dance or on the audience, but elsewhere. She wondered about the roses, and about life in general, and recalled fun moments from her last Latin class. The dance was no strain. The only times she had to focus were when she realised that she was losing the blend with the other dancers, and had to pull back. Somehow she couldn't seem to become just one face in the group. She tried, but the floor seemed to be trembling beneath her feet, and when she gestured it was as though sparks were trailing from her fingers. She was sure that everyone in the audience could see her too: the girl at the back who didn't know when not to take centre stage. The teacher wouldn't be happy. Well, serve her right, Mint thought vindictively. That'll teach her to put me at the back in recitals. She glanced sidelong between the gleaming buns and shoulder blades of her companions, to where Rio was dancing alone. She was doing it perfectly, every move delicate, graceful, flawless. Her pale lips pursed in concentration. The rose Mint had given her in her hair. Mint smiled to herself as she danced. Maybe it was time to give someone else a chance. After all, if ballet didn't work out, there was always salsa, samba, tango, a career as a professional security escort...somehow Mint quite liked that idea. It rang of independence.
She came off stage breathless and lightly sheened in sweat, but no more so than after a light workout at the barre. She was twitching with energy; she felt that she would like to head back out and dance until she collapsed. Fortunately she didn't have to stop just yet. It was the studio's annual Celebratory recital, and now there would be a party at the studio with music, dancing and champagne. All around her the girls were coming alive from their austere ballet selves, chattering excitedly as they changed into dresses, shook out their hair, scrubbed off their stage makeup and smoked up their eyes.
Mint stepped out into the foyer, dressed simply in deep blue taffeta, and was immediately winded by a small yellow cannon-ball shooting into her stomach.
'Minto-onee-chan! You danced so well, na no da!'
'P-purin-san!' Mint stuttered. 'Why are you here?'
'Minto-san, Minto-san!'
She looked up to see the other Mews waving her towards them.
'Oh, Minto, that was fabulous!' Ichigo squealed.
'The ballet is so beautiful,' Lettuce said, her eyes wide.
'Wait.' Mint raised one eyebrow. 'You all turned out to see me dance...in the chorus?'
'Of course we did!' Ichigo said. 'Shirogane-san said that it was a very important performance. And you were easily the best out of any of them. You should have been nearer the front.'
'Really? You think I was good?' Mint asked. Her eyes found Zakuro's.
'Much better than that stick-person dancing the lead,' Zakuro said.
Mint flushed with pleasure. 'Arigato, onee-sama, but Rio-san isn't really all that bad...Akasaka-san! Shirogane-san!'
She turned to greet the two Mew leaders as they approached. Keiichiro took her hand and kissed it.
'What a beautiful dancer you are, Minto-san. Well done.'
'A-arigato,' Mint stammered again, looking over Keiichiro's shoulder. Ryou was hovering close by, looking rather disgruntled for some reason, and behind him...
Mint blinked. The Latin teacher, the pianist, Juan, and at least half the dance class.
'Mina-san!' she exclaimed, stumbling past Keiichiro. 'You all came! Why?'
'To see you dance, of course,' Ryou said, taking her hand. 'They all thought you were fantastic, you know, after that first performance of yours, so we thought we'd come to see you. Now, are we going to this after-party or what?'
The sun had well and truly set, and the room was lit artificially – not with anything as vulgar as disco-lights, but fairly dim, with tinges of pink and blue. Mint had done a waltz with Keiichiro, a demonstration of ballet with some of her friends, and a triumphant performance of the festival salsa with her Latin class, after their teacher had succeeded in seizing control of the piano. She could see the two dance teachers now, her ballet teacher looking exceedingly frosty, engaged in a discussion of technique while Juan played for the dancers circling slowly across the floor.
'Punch?'
Mint jumped and turned to see Ryou beside her, holding out a glass. She took it with a nod of thanks and sipped. It was sweet – that was good, after all the dancing she'd done – tangy and just faintly alcoholic. Not enough to worry about, but enough to make her feel like someone at a grown-ups' party.
'I thought you danced very well today,' Ryou said. 'Truly.'
'Thank you.' Mint turned to watch the dancers again. 'It was a lovely surprise to have all my friends come to see me.' Mint frowned as a sudden suspicion seized her. But surely...it would be rash to ask straight out, and so awkward if she was wrong...
'Somebody sent a wonderful bouquet of roses to my dressing-room,' she said, 'but there was no note. I have no idea who sent them. It's driving me mad. You wouldn't happen to know, would you? Somebody from the Latin class, perhaps?'
Ryou was silent for the longest time, and then he said suddenly,
'Rumba.'
'Nani?' Mint blurted, thrown off-balance. Ryou seemed to do that to her a lot, she reflected. But then, not everybody had his cavalier attitude towards sticking to the subject in a conversation.
'Rumba,' he said again. 'When you danced during our first Latin class, you began to combine your traditional ballet training with elements of the dances you had just learned. I was trying to figure out what kind of dancing it reminded me of, and now I've put my finger on it. Rumba.'
'Oh.' Mint frowned. 'What's that like?'
'It's the slowest of the five competitive Latin dances; often considered a romantic dance. Very graceful, elements of ballet in the way the hands are held and the toes are pointed.'
'We haven't done one like that yet in class, have we?'
'No. But I'll ask Juan to play for one now, so that you can see how it goes. We should do a tango as well, right? Show that ballet teacher of yours what you can do?'
'Alright,' Mint said, speaking archly without quite knowing why. Ryou grinned, and then called sharply over to Juan. Mint didn't understand the words, but thought she recognised the language.
'Spanish?' she asked.
'Hai.'
'I didn't know you spoke Spanish.'
'A couple of European languages are always useful, and Spanish is one of the most widely-spoken in the world. Spain, obviously, Mexico, the Americas...anyway, I've asked him to play for us.'
The Latin teacher was running forward, clapping her hands. 'Tango-time, everybody!'
Ryou took Mint's hand and led her onto the floor. People were stepping back to watch the class do their thing; Mint hoped she would be good enough at this new style not to let them down.
Ryou chose a spot on the floor and turned to face her, taking a sharp opening stance. Juan played a sudden chord, and he caught her up, lifting her high into the air. Mint gasped in shock but kept her head, coming down into an elegant run on pointed toes when he lowered her back to the floor, and swinging round to face him again. They began to move, and she mimicked the footwork she had seen their teacher demonstrate with Juan, flicking her feet, hooking her knees around his. The movements were fast, clean, almost aggressive. Ryou's face was set and fierce as he took her weight for the lifts and guided her through each sharp pirouette, and his eyes seemed to blaze. She had never noticed before how truly blue they were. She wondered vaguely what the rest of the Mew team were making of this. She didn't know what to make of it herself. She just wanted to dance...
There was a gasp of appreciation from the watchers as the men lifted the women as one. Mint was above Ryou's head, doing the splits across his shoulder, every muscle in her body held taught. Tension and extension, the number one rule for all acrobatics. Then Juan played a delicate glissando, bringing the music down to a softer tempo. Ryou lowered her back to the floor, and someone shifted the lights to a dreamy blue.
Ryou let go of her. He was walking away from her, out into the middle of the floor, and the other dancers were moving aside to make way for him. In the centre of the room he turned and met her eyes, holding out his hand. Mint gave an internal shrug. Did she want to be a professional dancer or didn't she?
She stepped forward, taking the proffered hand, and Ryou whirled her round into his arm, pulling her into a slow, low backwards sway. She pulled back upright and they began to dance once more, more slowly now, still precise, spinning and turning around one another, never pulling far apart. She supposed that this must be the rumba. Ryou's arm was tight around her waist.
'My hypothesis,' Ryou said. 'I told you I would explain once I'd done my research.'
'Oh yes?' Mint asked. She was trying to keep her voice cool, but she felt breathless. 'Did you figure it out?'
'Yes. I was trying to find out why your dance teacher didn't want you for the lead. And after having observed your dancing for these past few weeks, and having seen the girl she chose in your place, I think I know.'
'Why, then?' Mint asked. He cupped her cheek, turned their heads sidelong and gyrated their hips together in time. 'I'm very curious.'
'That girl who performed tonight – Rio – she's very dainty, is she not?' He dipped her almost to the floor, and Mint, arching her spine and letting her head fall back, saw the upside-down expressions of two members of her ballet class, looking daggers at her.
'But you dance as though you're fighting.' Ryou said, drawing her back up again. His hand was in her hair.
'Is that so?' Mint enquired acidly. She hooked her leg around his hip. He picked her up and spun her.
'Yes. But Minto.' He slid her leg back to the floor, inclining his head. 'You also fight as though you are dancing. You are incredibly graceful.'
'I...' Suddenly Mint couldn't speak at all. She couldn't breathe.
Ryou slid his hands under her arms and drew her in a long run across the floor. She felt her toes skimming the polished wood.
'Is that why you took me to the Latin class?' she breathed.
'I thought it would be a good way to test my theory,' Ryou nodded. 'A style like the one I glimpsed in your ballet – strong, confident, powerful, the style your teacher seems to find so distasteful – would be suited to Latin dancing, and that if you attended the class the style would come out more. I also thought it would be a good chance to ask you out.'
'Nani?' Mint gasped. 'Me?'
'Yes.' Ryou's arms tightened around her, pulling her closer until she could feel his whole body pressed against hers. 'I wanted a chance to dance with the beautiful Minto-chan, who performs so wonderfully onstage. And I thought that, since you can be so cantankerous yourself, I would be able to be myself around you.'
'Ugh.' Mint shook her head with a grimace. 'So that's what I'm really like. As nasty and bi-polar as you.'
'So that's it then?' Ryou asked, stepping away from her abruptly. Mint felt a sudden urge to dive after him and grab him round the neck. 'You don't like me?'
'It's just like we discussed after our first lesson together,' Mint told him smoothly. 'Maybe if you made a prolonged and concerted effort to behave decently, I would be pleased. Maybe then I would like you.'
'Would you?' Ryou asked. 'You want me to do that for you, Minto-chan?' He held her chin between thumb and forefinger, gazing into her eyes with a theatrically pleading expression. 'You might conceivably like me, and in return...' He leaned in until his breath fanned her lips. '...I have to be...nice?'
Mint gathered together her last shreds of sanity and whispered,
'Hai.'
Ryou caught her around the waist, spun her behind a pillar and crushed his lips to hers.
Her first thought was that her head had exploded. Her second was that nothing could ever possibly be wrong in the world again, ever ever ever, as long as she could feel like this. And the third was that it felt much, much too good to possibly be safe. It felt every bit as good as fighting the aliens felt bad, and equally dangerous. One of Ryou's hands was tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, his other arm was clenched tight around her waist, his body was warm and solid and surprisingly powerful against hers, and she couldn't even describe to herself what his lips and tongue were doing without wanting to cover her face and run screaming from the room.
My first kiss, she thought dazedly. Ryou Shirogane...Ryou...
Finally, Ryou released her and pulled away. One corner of his mouth quirked up, the finishing touch to an expression of mingled amusement, lust, tenderness and shell-shock, and he said,
'Oh, all right.'
*Fin*
A/N: You see, I totally don't hate Ryou. I rather love him, really. And I suddenly don't hate Mint, either.
So that was pretty hot. I thought. And fun, actually, once I got past the initial twitching that goes with writing a romance scene. I can't believe I've never actually written a sexy-dancing scene before, considering how much I like dance. Ryou's such a player, lol.
Anyway, if you're youtubing dance styles, I would suggest searching 'Strictly Come Dancing' as the best way to get some footage of people actually dancing. Matthew and Flavia, Vincent and Rachel and Alesha and Matthew are all good couples. Put in each of their names, followed by the style of dance you're looking for. Essence refers to rumba as 'glorified groping,' which is...kind of true, so Matthew and Flavia's is a good one to watch, as it's a little bit more than that – though, admittedly, not much more.
Ciao, y'all, I hope you enjoyed my first ever Mint or Ryou-centred oneshot!
Essence of Gold: Is being a sneaky ninja, and adding her own commentary on the end – oh crap here comes True. I'll be quick. Well, it was amazing, wasn't it, Mina? I officially ship the pairing now – True-oneechan is really a talented authoress! See you all soon, and don't forget to... review. And not just an 'OMG that was kawaii!' non-review. She hates those.
Much love,
The ever-awesome Izzy
(How did the lights go down just when they did?'
Ryou: OK, Keiichiro, when I make my super-sekrit hand-signal, you hold a knife to the light-man's throat and...)
Peace!
Many thanks, Kitty-Kat K.O!
True xxx