The Picturesque Waltz to Eternity
Hm, I have to admit, that I have no inspiration whatsoever for anything. My brain is overdue with too much information, and I feel malnourished. Well, of course, I experiment, I play, I imagine. And, what has come to life, is… my first AU story for Gakuen Alice. Nice, eh? But, this chapter is horribly written. Forgive me so. :( I still hope you enjoyed it. And- that you would review. :) Even though the idea is cliché. And the characters are OOC.
Dedication: To Bails-nee, because, you're a great older sister, and~ because you're simply amazing. Period. :D
Disclaimer: No. Never. As much as I want it to be mine.
/ Chapter 1- It's My Dream /
x
Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.
-Les Brown
x
The waltz was barely danced during this time. In fact, it was hardly even known. After all, it was only common during the 16th century. But all Mikan Sakura had wished to do was to dance. The waltz. It was her greatest desire. Her deepest love. Her one wish. Downside was, Mikan couldn't dance. She could sing, she could run, but she couldn't dance. When she was young, she was always found twirling around, imitating the dancers she had seen in television, pretending to be a princess, with a prince, dancing the waltz with her, in a luxurious and elaborately designed ballroom. She would slide and glide around, as if it was all she wanted to do.
And it was.
But she couldn't do it. That was the problem. Yet, the only thing the brunette wanted was to share her love of dance to others, as well as express it herself. But she couldn't. She couldn't. But she prayed, she wished, she did everything she could possibly think of, just to be able to dance.
She had gone to ballet lessons as a child, 'Too snobby' she had said.
She had taken Hip Hop. 'Too jumpy.' Was the reply to this one.
Yet, it was the waltz that she had no complaints to. It was the waltz, not the mazurka, that she was falling in love with. Any waltz was fine with her, she had commented to her mother. Country Western. Hesitation. Scandinavian. Any type, and she loved them all.
"I would give anything away, just to learn how to waltz." She smiled pleasantly, then stopped, when she fell prey to her father's scrutinized gaze, the direct reply to her statement. She held her hands up in surprise. "It's true, Father. It's my dream." Izumi Yukihara only gave a tired sigh. "You know that's not possible, Mikan."
"It is!" the brunette argued back hotly. It was possible. If she could try, if she could only have the chance, she would succeed. She was sure of it, and that was all she believed in. Her father continued on, his hazel eyes, empty of the usual glimmer. "Let's say, Mikan. Let's say, it is possible. But would you give up anything and everything for dancing?" He gave a tight and obviously forced smile. What he received in return was a tinkly laugh. "Yup! Of course I would! What's better than dancing?"
Then she scurried away, touched that her father had finally said it was possible to fulfill her dream. After all, that must mean something. Besides, she thought in confidence, nothing was better than dancing the waltz, right? …Right…?
She never saw the frown that had graced upon Yukihara Izumi's face seconds after she left. Nor did she ever hear those words.
"So you would give up a jewel, in trade of trash?"
A pause, before the next unheard phrase, was said.
"Then you might as well give up on him, for dance, for your foolishly impossible dream."
X
"I'm ashamed of you, Natsume, you should know that." All the man received was an icy glare, accumulated by the boy's blood red eyes. The man, Persona, twisted the burnt cigarette between his blackened fingers, his smoky breath fanning Natsume Hyuuga's face. And the boy hated it. His dark scarlet eyes said it all.
"I give you clothes and a home and food on the table, and you dar-" The man was interrupted by a fierce snarl. "I provide my own clothes and my own food. All you do is drink until you're half dead." He gave a sneer, despite of his fear, "And then you come to me for money." He laughed raucously. Persona didn't say anything, though he was feeling slightly light-headed from the drink this morning. Without a concern for his health, he raised his palm to strike the boy, only finding that he had collapsed instead.
As much as Natsume was reigning in anger, he did the duty of putting his father safely on the floor. Even though he hated him. Even though he was despicable. Even though he was the worst father ever. Natsume did it, because it was his job as a son. Wasn't it?
"If your dream is to drink, then mine is to draw. I'd do anything for it."
Then he left his father, alone, on the floor, not knowing that Persona was not yet quite asleep. No, instead, he was very much awake, despite his condition and disease, and he had heard every word that Natsume had uttered. And, he was resolute to stop it. No matter what.
Even if it meant, turning to the solution of death.
After all, was it not better to stop the impossible?
X
Author's Note: Oh, and some might think that killing Natsume is a best overexaggerated, but Persona does have a disease. (which will be explained later)
I did say that I like short chapters right? (Though, I never said anything about badly written chapters… and if you all don't like this, I'll delete it.) I am not a dancer myself, so I have not much information about the waltz. If any of you wonderful reviewers know anything about it, feel free to review or PM me. :)
This fic was written in to respect the wishes of Iyano, MangAnimePrincess, who suggested I write happier themes. Request granted, girl! :)
I cannot promise when the next chapter will be updated…
Sniff…eight reviews?
Well, hope you enjoyed!
P.P.S: For all those waiting for Ironic Fate, which I have changed the title to Storm of Irony, I will prioritize it next.
Ria departing! (Elle)
