Disclaimer: I don't own Tsubasa.
I said there was going to be a sequel to Learning the Moves, and here it is. Look out for the final part in this trilogy-like-thing, called The Last Dance, coming soon.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It's been a week since the first time we danced together for more than a moment, but the pace hasn't let up at all. If anything, the tempo has increased. It's grown faster and tighter and tougher and I live it and breathe it and it's all I can do sometimes not to dream of it as I sleep, limbs tangled together with Fai. It's the only time either of us gets a rest from the newfound rhythm.
I always wake up before him, and most mornings I pull away before anyone can see us. He always looks perfectly composed when he sleeps, the exhausting pace of our dance not showing on the smooth lines of his face. Then he wakes up and smiles at me and the steps begin anew.
I stumble through the days and toss and turn through the nights. Fai doesn't say anything, but his coat is always crumples and creased after I've spent a night using him as a pillow. I straighten it when I wake up, then I move away.
Most of the time.
Then there are the nights when I haven't been able to get the drumming out of my head and I can't sleep and I cling to him, not caring if it makes me look weak because whatever else he is, Fai has been dancing this dance longer than me and the thought is oddly comforting. And occasionally he'll be awake too, and there'll be a warm arm around my shoulders and we'll be dancing together again and it'll be beautiful and intoxicating and it's almost worth all the rest, just for this.
But I'll stumble and miss another step and it'll all crumble into dust.
'Kuro-taaan!'
I squash a surge of anger at my quiet moment being interrupted and turn. His lazy smile is an exquisite parry.
'What were you thinking about?' This is a new step, and instantly I'm lost.
'Nothing...' This a favourite move for us both, a simple sidestep that can be devastating against even the most careful advance.
'It didn't look like nothing, Kuro-tan. You've been staring into space for at least ten minutes,'
Somehow there's been a forward step, because he's already about to take the lead and I don't even know how it happened.
Sometimes I think it's magic.
'I was thinking about where we could find the next feather,' I said. It's a good move, for me at least. A practical, if graceless, turn and retreat.
'And what were your ideas?'
I've been outmanoeuvred again. It serves me right, I suppose, for challenging a master. I don't feel defeated. You can't lose something you never had a chance to win.
'I…' I always falter before he does.
He chuckles. It's a little darker than his usual laugh. This dance is addicting for him, for both of us. I love it and I hate it and I know I could never stop, because then I'd lose something that's become such a fundamental part of me I don't know if I can live without it.
His arm slips around my shoulders and I lean back against him as he picks me up and gives me another chance. This is harsher and faster than the smooth finesse that's such a part of Fai, and there's a hitch in his breathing and I can tell he's a little out of his depth as well.
I pull myself up slightly, so my head is almost level with his and I can feel the softness of his hair against my cheek. This is a new step on my part, as well. Hell, it's probably a new dance. I've pushed this into a new territory neither of us are entirely comfortable with.
I can feel his muscles tense up slightly as I slide my arms around him, and I suppress a grin. For the first time ever, the dance is mine.
I think I'm ahead. That's probably why I'm so surprised when Fai tilts his head up and presses his lips against mine.
Suddenly, everything I thought I learned about dancing evaporates. What we were doing before… it seems like babies taking their first staggering steps compared to this moment of perfect beauty, when the world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth against mine and every move we make together seems faultless, and even if we fall it doesn't matter, because we'd be falling together.
When he pulls away I gaze up at him, breathless and still unable to form a coherent thought.
And he smiles. It's his usual trademark grin.
I fall. But I do it alone. Once again I've been outdanced.
I guess I'll have to resign myself to always being one step behind.