This was written for the Writers Anonymous Never in a Million Years Challenge. This is a work of fiction, depicting a fictional character who never applied to nor was rejected from any real life academy, nor participated in any real life concourse.
The name Elena was chosen as a traditional Russian name that readily bridges into a Japanese feminine name to reflect the characters dual ancestry. Ekaterina was chosen to continue the "E" theme.
Elena Ayase nervously sat in the lobby with the other young mothers as the répétiteur's voice filtered out from the studio, words masked by soft music. She held a printed envelope in her hands, the ballet studio's version of an invoice for the following month's tuition.
"... for your hard work."
A group of young voices obediently chorused, "Thank you very much".
Moments later, the door slid open and nine children - eight girls and one boy - filtered out, sweaty from both physical activity and the sweltering summer heat.
"Mama!"
Elena handed the bottle of unsweetened barley tea to her daughter. "Well?"
Eli had thus far been timid at preschool; Elena's mother had recommended ballet lessons to draw the three-year-old out of her shell. Ekaterina had once been a professional dancer, but Elena had had neither aptitude nor interest in pursuing her mother's art seriously.
Elena figured two months would be enough time to see whether Eli truly enjoyed ballet intrinsically, once the glamour of embellished tutus and rhinestone tiaras wore off.
"I love it!" No hesitation.
Elena smiled. "So, you want to continue?"
Eli nodded enthusiastically.
"Every week?"
"Mm!"
"You're not going to give up when it gets harder?"
Eli shook her head fiercely, and a lock of blonde sprayed-stiff hair fell out of place. "Never!"
"You seem quiet today. Is everything all right, honey?" Elena eyed her elder daughter through the rearview mirror; the six-year-old stared out the window at nothing.
"Yes."
Elena pursed her lips but returned her focus to the road. Her daughter now studied ballet five days a week; perhaps it was just end-of-week fatigue.
Later that night, after Eli had gone to bed without protest, Elena dug through her dance bag. She found her answers in a neatly folded sheet of A4 paper.
"Ah."
The role of Masha in the studio's annual production of The Nutcracker had gone to Kurumi.
Eli had stayed late at the studio for weeks in hopes of winning the role. Elena made a mental note to slip a small piece of dark chocolate to her the next morning.
Elena found Eli, changed out of her rented tutu and into warm-ups but still wearing a full face of stage makeup, staring up at the bulletin emotionlessly. She scanned the papers announcing the rankings for each division. Finally, she found the "Classical Ballet - Lower Primary School Years - Girls" sheet.
Twelfth place. Eli would not be advancing to the NAMUE Ballet Concours Grand Final in Tokyo.
At age nine, Eli was allowed her first pair of pointe shoes, to be worn solely under the close supervision of her teachers. It would take another six months for her to consistently get over the box of the otherwise perfectly fitting shoes, during which time the teacher admitted in confidence she considered rescinding her permission.
Eli wasn't dumb and Elena wasn't blind. She saw the envy in her daughter's eyes as she watched her classmates - Sara with the insane range of motion, Mina with the banana-shaped arches, Sumina with the hyper-extended knees.
Eli knew she didn't have certain genetic blessings other girls had, so she doubled the number of repetitions for all her foot-strengthening exercises and got a Flexistretcher to improve her arabesque. She begged Elena to add pilates three times a week in hopes of achieving better external rotation, and wrote Santa for a portable marley floor in order to train at home.
In her final year of primary school, Eli recorded an audition video with Ekaterina's help. The three of them went to a local temple to pray for the gods' favour before sending the audition materials off to multiple dance academies for consideration.
Several weeks later, in short succession, Eli received polite, boilerplate rejections from the summer intensive admission juries at Académie Princesse Grace, Moscow State Academy of Choreography, Vaganova Academy of Russian Ballet, and the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School.
Eli wouldn't audition for a summer intensive the following year, or the year after that.
The Ayases commissioned bespoke classical tutus for Eli's first Youth America Grand Prix, in which she would compete in the Junior category. The custom-made one-of-a-kind tutus came with an accordingly high price tag of nearly two hundred thousand yen apiece; especially high knowing neither Elena nor her husband reached their adult heights at thirteen. But the couturier was a master of his craft - his work complemented Eli's dancing the way a generic rental tutu never would.
At this point, Eli was destroying a pair of pointe shoes every other week, costing her parents a minimum of twenty thousand yen every month, not including the cost of elastics and ribbons. Entry to the regional competition alone was ten thousand yen, with an additional ten thousand yen for each piece performed.
The entire family made the three-hour Shinkansen ride to Osaka the previous day to give Eli more time to warm up and get limber.
Eli's first piece, the variation of the 3rd Odalisque from Le Corsaire, went well. She had been hoping to do a series of triple pirouettes during the écarté sequence, but, per Ekaterina's advice, she settled for doubles and managed to pull it off cleanly.
The second piece came from the La Esmeralda Pas de Deux, a gala original choreographed to dazzle. It was a popular choice for competitions - so much so that both Ekaterina and the teacher had tried to dissuade Eli from selecting it. Sure enough, Elena had seen no fewer than eighteen girls dance with their tambourines by the time Eli's turn came about.
The music was divided into AABA sections. During the second A section, Elena watched as Eli attempted her first attitude derrière. Time seemed to slow as Eli's supporting foot slipped long before her working foot went anywhere near the tambourine's drumskin.
The sound of Eli hitting the stage in her beautiful, ornate tutu was largely covered by the volume of the music track.
Get up. Elena thought, as she felt little Alisa grip her hand. If you get up now, you can make the next one. Show them what you can do.
The teary-eyed Eli didn't get her bearings and rejoin the music until the start of the B section. For the rest of the variation, Elena noted how much she shook. It was a wonder Eli didn't fall again during the battements in the final A section.
By the time Elena and Ekaterina reached Eli backstage, she had already removed her makeup. Her face was dry and her lips curved into a smile, but the latter did not reach her undeniably reddened eyes.
No advancement to the Finals in New York. No scholarships. No offers of admission. Eli left the concourse with only a single award as consolation - an audience award for Best Tutu.
Eli was silent the entire three-hour return home.
Eli stayed in her room the entire following day. After the rest of the family had taken their evening meal, Ekaterina knocked on Eli's door. From the ground floor, Elena heard the door open and shut. Muffled murmurs floated down to the dining room.
At long last, the door opened again, and someone made her way downstairs. From the pace, Elena knew it could only be one person; she quickly busied herself with cutting an apple into inordinately small pieces.
"Mama," Eli said, in a quiet, hoarse voice. "Papa."
Elena resisted the urge to exchange a glance with her husband. "Yes, darling?"
Eli pretended not to notice Elena's lack of an apron and the fact her father was holding his newspaper upside-down.
"I'll be in senior high school next month. I'd like to focus on my studies. Therefore, with your blessing, I'd like to quit ballet lessons."
She inhaled deeply.
Eli continued, "I'm sorry. I know you've spent a lot of money on this. On everything. I promise I will get a part-time job as soon as I'm able, and pay you back."
"Don't worry about that," Elena said, cupping Eli's face in her hands. "Just be sure about... this. I don't want you to have any regrets either way."
Eli forced a bitter smile. "I'm sure, Mama."
As Eli politely ignored her parents' unconvincingly transparent attempt at acting like they hadn't been discussing her all day, her parents politely ignored the way Eli's voice broke.