=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=
"Dance is your pulse, your heartbeat, your breathing. It's the rhythm of your life. It's the expression in time and movement, in happiness, joy, sadness and envy."
--Jaques D'Amboise
=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=
Hiroko Teresa Tsukiyama looked at her eldest daughter who was helping her wash the dishes. In her heart, she was still apprehensive to allow Makiko to dance after she sustained that terrible injury a year ago. But she also knew that she couldn't stop her child from dancing. It was like her life-support system. Cutting off dancing meant cutting off Makiko. She sighed.
"Hija...Your father and I still can't help but worry about your foot..."
Makiko opened her mouth to speak, but her mother held up a hand to tell her that she had to hear her out first. "I know it's been a year since your accident and you're on the road to recovery...but deep inside, I feel that I shouldn't let you dance..."
Makiko's mother shrugged. "I guess I'm just being silly. All mothers are like that. They tend to worry about their children."
Thin arms reached out to envelope Hiroko in a comforting hug. "You are the greatest mother any daughter could ever ask for. And Otousan is the greatest father any daughter could ever ask for. The only mistake you've ever made was to keep forgiving me and putting up with my temperament," Makiko smiled, tightening her embrace on the woman who gave her life and carried her for nine painful months.
Hiroko smiled. This young woman -- once a little girl -- was her daughter. With her dreams and her ambitions, with her clear outline of her life and her destiny, she was already shaping out her own life...
"I love you, Nanay*," Makiko whispered, using the Filipino term of endearment that she had heard her mother address her grandmother. It was also what she and her siblings called Hiroko. Even if they were not pure Filipino, that endearment alone spoke of how strong the Filipino sense of values was instilled in them.
Tears came into her mother's eyes. "I love you too, Makiko. My sweet little girl who's all grown up now..."
And in that moment, all of Hiroko's doubts and worries were erased.
Makiko would continue to dance.
~*~*~
"What is wrong with you today, Micchy? You seem to be out of it more and more these days," Hanamichi observed as he pulled a clean shirt over his head.
"It's nothing," Mitsui grunted, reading the flyer that had been pressed into his hand. It was one of the flyers about Makiko's dance performance. The performance that the entire student body of Shohoku was compelled to watch. It was to be in two weeks' time, but the crusty old teachers just HAD to inform everyone in advance.
Correction. It was not informing, it was an ULTIMATUM. Either you watch and keep your grades above barely-passing level or skip the performance and suffer a heavy demerit on your grades.
Damn.
"Hey, don't look too grouchy about having to watch the performance," Miyagi piped up. "Aya-chan says that seeing it will not be as regrettable."
Mitsui looked at him warily, but Miyagi ignored him.
"It'll keep the team together without any problems, in my opinion. We won't have to worry about double-checks," he finished, closing his locker with a satisfied slam.
Hanamichi laughed. "Nyahahahaha! Shorty's right, Micchy!"
"That's Captain Miyagi to you, bakayarou!" The team captain growled.
~*~*~*
Eito looked worriedly over at Makiko, who was busy smoothing out the steps to her solo performance. He still couldn't help but blame himself the most for what happened to her. He was, after all, in charge of protecting her from bad falls and he had failed to do that. Time and again, Makiko would remind him that it was not his fault that the choreography they were rehearsing that fateful day did not allow him to be at her side.
But though she told him that, Eito could sense that a part of Makiko was still traumatized from that particular accident. The only problem was, he didn't know what it was. Even Madamoiselle Cardin had a hard time identifying what it was that troubled Makiko.
If she had a boyfriend, it wouldn't be so hard to find out, as Yukiko had pointed out before. Makiko's face was as unreadable as a statue's when she danced. No one could tell if she was in pain or not. She hid everything quite successfully.
Eito sighed. "Makiko...you really should tell someone how you feel..."
~*~*~
"Don't cry for me, Argentinaaaaaa ~ OW!" Melina cried when Irinika poked her in the ribs to silence her.
"Tumahimik ka nga! Nakakabingi ang boses mo*!" The silver-haired teen growled.
"Tse! Timang!" Melina retorted. Irinika's battle aura started to glow.
"Bulol!" She tossed back.
"Timang!"
"Bulol!"
"Agag!"
"Kiti-kiti!"
"Oh-kay! Since the two of you have been properly identified, can we get back to business?" Sumire snapped her planner open, tapping her pen impatiently as she waited for her friends to stop arguing.
That silenced Irinika and Melina, though they continued to glare at each other, unmindful of the way the people sweatdropped. It was always like this. Every time they got together, the sparks between Irinika and Melina would fly and Sumire would have to be the referee again and step in before they got physical.
Quite a normal thing for the three of them.
Sumire sighed and took another sip of her ice tea, thankful for the temporary peace and quiet. "Okay, here's what I thought of...Plan A: We introduce ourselves to Makiko after her performance. Plan B: We be our usual charming selves and go into the studio and introduce ourselves to her after she finishes rehearsal."
"And on both accounts, we ask her out on a date," Irinika sarcastically finished. Melina burst into outright guffaws that had everyone staring when the milk she was drinking came out her nose by accident.
Handing her friend some tissue, Sumire rolled her eyes. "Try 'asking to make her acquaintance,' Nika," she replied.
Irinika grinned and slouched back in her seat. "Oh, don't worry. I won't bite her head off when I meet her. From what you've been telling me, I have a feeling she might bite off MY head off AND a considerable number of body parts as soon as ~ "
" ~ YOU get into your habit of pushing people's buttons, Nika," Sumire interrupted. "So please don't try anything or I'll have to push the PAUSE button in the middle of your forehead."
"You won't have to worry about that. Bitches get along with fellow bitches..."
****************************
To be continued...
****************************
1) Nanay - "Mom" or "Mommy." Derived from the noun "Ina" that means mother in Filipino.
2) (*) "Will you just shut up! Your voice deafens me!"
3) Bulol - Means "one who eats his/her words."
4) Timang - Connotes insanity. Although it has many other meanings that I forgot.
5) Agag - "Gaga" when inverted. It's supposed to connote stupidity in Filipino. The male term is "Gago."
7) Kiti-kiti - Mosquito larvae.
"Dance is your pulse, your heartbeat, your breathing. It's the rhythm of your life. It's the expression in time and movement, in happiness, joy, sadness and envy."
--Jaques D'Amboise
=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=*=
Hiroko Teresa Tsukiyama looked at her eldest daughter who was helping her wash the dishes. In her heart, she was still apprehensive to allow Makiko to dance after she sustained that terrible injury a year ago. But she also knew that she couldn't stop her child from dancing. It was like her life-support system. Cutting off dancing meant cutting off Makiko. She sighed.
"Hija...Your father and I still can't help but worry about your foot..."
Makiko opened her mouth to speak, but her mother held up a hand to tell her that she had to hear her out first. "I know it's been a year since your accident and you're on the road to recovery...but deep inside, I feel that I shouldn't let you dance..."
Makiko's mother shrugged. "I guess I'm just being silly. All mothers are like that. They tend to worry about their children."
Thin arms reached out to envelope Hiroko in a comforting hug. "You are the greatest mother any daughter could ever ask for. And Otousan is the greatest father any daughter could ever ask for. The only mistake you've ever made was to keep forgiving me and putting up with my temperament," Makiko smiled, tightening her embrace on the woman who gave her life and carried her for nine painful months.
Hiroko smiled. This young woman -- once a little girl -- was her daughter. With her dreams and her ambitions, with her clear outline of her life and her destiny, she was already shaping out her own life...
"I love you, Nanay*," Makiko whispered, using the Filipino term of endearment that she had heard her mother address her grandmother. It was also what she and her siblings called Hiroko. Even if they were not pure Filipino, that endearment alone spoke of how strong the Filipino sense of values was instilled in them.
Tears came into her mother's eyes. "I love you too, Makiko. My sweet little girl who's all grown up now..."
And in that moment, all of Hiroko's doubts and worries were erased.
Makiko would continue to dance.
~*~*~
"What is wrong with you today, Micchy? You seem to be out of it more and more these days," Hanamichi observed as he pulled a clean shirt over his head.
"It's nothing," Mitsui grunted, reading the flyer that had been pressed into his hand. It was one of the flyers about Makiko's dance performance. The performance that the entire student body of Shohoku was compelled to watch. It was to be in two weeks' time, but the crusty old teachers just HAD to inform everyone in advance.
Correction. It was not informing, it was an ULTIMATUM. Either you watch and keep your grades above barely-passing level or skip the performance and suffer a heavy demerit on your grades.
Damn.
"Hey, don't look too grouchy about having to watch the performance," Miyagi piped up. "Aya-chan says that seeing it will not be as regrettable."
Mitsui looked at him warily, but Miyagi ignored him.
"It'll keep the team together without any problems, in my opinion. We won't have to worry about double-checks," he finished, closing his locker with a satisfied slam.
Hanamichi laughed. "Nyahahahaha! Shorty's right, Micchy!"
"That's Captain Miyagi to you, bakayarou!" The team captain growled.
~*~*~*
Eito looked worriedly over at Makiko, who was busy smoothing out the steps to her solo performance. He still couldn't help but blame himself the most for what happened to her. He was, after all, in charge of protecting her from bad falls and he had failed to do that. Time and again, Makiko would remind him that it was not his fault that the choreography they were rehearsing that fateful day did not allow him to be at her side.
But though she told him that, Eito could sense that a part of Makiko was still traumatized from that particular accident. The only problem was, he didn't know what it was. Even Madamoiselle Cardin had a hard time identifying what it was that troubled Makiko.
If she had a boyfriend, it wouldn't be so hard to find out, as Yukiko had pointed out before. Makiko's face was as unreadable as a statue's when she danced. No one could tell if she was in pain or not. She hid everything quite successfully.
Eito sighed. "Makiko...you really should tell someone how you feel..."
~*~*~
"Don't cry for me, Argentinaaaaaa ~ OW!" Melina cried when Irinika poked her in the ribs to silence her.
"Tumahimik ka nga! Nakakabingi ang boses mo*!" The silver-haired teen growled.
"Tse! Timang!" Melina retorted. Irinika's battle aura started to glow.
"Bulol!" She tossed back.
"Timang!"
"Bulol!"
"Agag!"
"Kiti-kiti!"
"Oh-kay! Since the two of you have been properly identified, can we get back to business?" Sumire snapped her planner open, tapping her pen impatiently as she waited for her friends to stop arguing.
That silenced Irinika and Melina, though they continued to glare at each other, unmindful of the way the people sweatdropped. It was always like this. Every time they got together, the sparks between Irinika and Melina would fly and Sumire would have to be the referee again and step in before they got physical.
Quite a normal thing for the three of them.
Sumire sighed and took another sip of her ice tea, thankful for the temporary peace and quiet. "Okay, here's what I thought of...Plan A: We introduce ourselves to Makiko after her performance. Plan B: We be our usual charming selves and go into the studio and introduce ourselves to her after she finishes rehearsal."
"And on both accounts, we ask her out on a date," Irinika sarcastically finished. Melina burst into outright guffaws that had everyone staring when the milk she was drinking came out her nose by accident.
Handing her friend some tissue, Sumire rolled her eyes. "Try 'asking to make her acquaintance,' Nika," she replied.
Irinika grinned and slouched back in her seat. "Oh, don't worry. I won't bite her head off when I meet her. From what you've been telling me, I have a feeling she might bite off MY head off AND a considerable number of body parts as soon as ~ "
" ~ YOU get into your habit of pushing people's buttons, Nika," Sumire interrupted. "So please don't try anything or I'll have to push the PAUSE button in the middle of your forehead."
"You won't have to worry about that. Bitches get along with fellow bitches..."
****************************
To be continued...
****************************
1) Nanay - "Mom" or "Mommy." Derived from the noun "Ina" that means mother in Filipino.
2) (*) "Will you just shut up! Your voice deafens me!"
3) Bulol - Means "one who eats his/her words."
4) Timang - Connotes insanity. Although it has many other meanings that I forgot.
5) Agag - "Gaga" when inverted. It's supposed to connote stupidity in Filipino. The male term is "Gago."
7) Kiti-kiti - Mosquito larvae.