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"If dancing were any easier it would be called football."

--Anonymous

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As the day of their first performance neared, the entire studio was all pins and needles. The dancers would sometimes sneak practices in between school breaks and vacant periods in order to perfect their numbers. Madamoiselle Cardin was making it doubly hard by intensifying the rehearsals, assigning roles and adding more intricate steps to their choreography.


Makiko was no exception. In fact, she was the most excited among all of the dancers and she was hell-bent on perfecting ALL her numbers.


Which was why she was racing through the hallways of Shohoku that afternoon to find an empty room where she could practice yet again. She already had her leotard on and her black capri leggings in her bag as well as her pointe shoes. Aside from that, she was also bringing a small cassette player along with the various tracks she would be dancing to. All she needed now was a vacant room or just about anywhere private with LOTS of space.


The duffel bag bounced against her hip as she continued to jog down the long corridors, pausing to take a peek in each room along the hall. She was about to give up when she found herself standing in front of the gym's sliding doors. Their was no sound coming from inside and Makiko sighed both in relief and elation. Finally! She had found somewhere to practice.


Quickly, she slid the doors open and closed them behind her, whooshing out a breath. She then took off her shoes and socks, getting into her leggings before unzipping her skirt and unbuttoning her blouse to reveal a sleeveless, racerback leotard in navy blue. Makiko then folded her clothes neatly and packed them in her bag, sitting down on the floor to lace up her pink satin toe shoes as fast as she could.


'Might as well make the most of my time and practice. A dancer must never be caught off guard and forget her exercises,' the raven-haired girl mused to herself, doing a few stretches before she popped in a tape and began her rehearsal.



~*~*~



As Mitsui neared the gym, he kept muttering to himself about random things: Why he had to watch the performance when he considered ballet as boring, why he had to be the one to open the doors of the gym all the time, why he was always sooo full of bad luck the whole week, and a lot of other things.


He stopped in mid-rant when he heard sounds coming from inside. The doors were already open, judging from the tiny sliver of light that penetrated in between the doors.


'Who the heck could have opened them?' The scarred teen wondered, scratching his head in confusion. Curiosity got the better of him, so he opened the doors a crack wider, peering inside.


What he saw nearly bowled him over. Right there in the middle of the gym was Tsukiyama Makiko, his enemy. She didn't notice him as she was too engrossed in the loud pop music and in her dancing, keeping in time with the beat and executing dance steps too intricate for him to follow.


Something about the way Makiko was dancing held Mitsui rooted to the spot. Every one of her movements was fluid, flowing into each other like water. Her eyes burned with an intensity that commanded attention, burning with a hidden fire that spoke of passion and raw energy. She moved like she was on top of the music, that she WAS the music, floating through the air or lashing out with powerful movements that could weave a spell around anyone who would just chance upon her.


'Whoa! I never knew the bitch could dance like that!' He thought, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew that Makiko was a dancer, but he never thought that she could be THIS good...


But when he saw her with a soft smile gracing her features and a dreamy expression in her eyes, in that moment he was thunderstruck.


'So beautiful...'


Mitsui briefly wondered what had happened to the girl he had been teasing so long ago...the one he once thought was an ugly duckling and would become an ugly duck later on...


'She grew up, Mitsui. Just like you did,' a voice remarked. 'The reason you never noticed was because you were so caught up with yourself.'


His eyes trailed downwards from her face to her body and the realization that she had lost her baby fat hit him square in the face and he blushed. No longer was her body chubby, but slender, lightly toned with muscle from her dancing. Strange, any other person would have thought Makiko too skinny now, but to Mitsui she looked just right, with the kind of body that could make any man burn. No, there were no signs of anorexia in Makiko...she was as healthy as any girl.


'Gyah! What the fuck are you thinking?!?!?! This is Makiko we're talking about! The frigid bitch!' Another voice spoke up, snapping Mitsui out of his reverie. The blush faded from his cheeks just as Makiko's song was about to come to an end.


Makiko heard the music about to end and decided to change her few last steps by executing a tour de force, lashing out in a series of brilliant pirouettes before executing one tour jeté that brought her to an arabesque just as the tape stopped. She grinned and stepped out of her arabesque, panting heavily as she relished every step in her head, closing her eyes.


The momentary silence was broken by clapping and Makiko whirled about only to find Mitsui leaning against the side of the door, smiling lazily.


"Nice dancing, Makiko-chan," Mitsui drawled, emphasizing the 'chan' part. At the sight of him, Makiko immediately bristled.


"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" She demanded, eyes drilling holes in Mitsui's skull.


He chuckled. "You're the one trespassing, Makiko. The basketball team is supposed to use this gym for THEIR practice."


Onyx eyes narrowed. Makiko started to stalk towards the scarred teenager but a sharp pain in her foot stopped her and she sharply gasped as the pain shot up from her foot to her leg, making her forget about Mitsui and sit down to clutch her foot in an effort to assuage the pain that was making it throb crazily.


The teasing light in Mitsui's eyes disappeared when he saw the pain that flashed across Makiko's face. Crossing the gym quickly, he crouched down beside her, placing his hand over hers.


"Daijoubu ka?" He asked.


Makiko swallowed and ducked her head so he wouldn't see her cry. The tears were starting to well up in her eyes, threatening to spill out at any moment. She cursed inwardly. 'Dammit! I forgot to do my therapy!'


"Makiko...Are you alright?" Mitsui's voice broke into her thoughts, the worry evident in the way he spoke.


By now, the pain was too much for Makiko to hide and she gripped her foot harder. She let the tears flow, but not without feeling embarrassed that Mitsui had to see her like this. Damn, why did she have to be so weak?!


"Iie...It hurts...it hurts a lot..."


Her words hit Mitsui like a ton of bricks and he was momentarily taken back to his freshman days when his knee was injured, preventing him from practice until he had finally given up hope and joined a gang that got him into trouble for two years. When he DID come back, there was so much change and so much to make up for and he wanted to gain back everything and just do what he loved doing.


But while he had given up hope at that time, Makiko continued to dance. From the way she clutched her foot, Mitsui knew that she had been injured because of dancing. But he didn't sense any desire to quit in her. In fact, he sensed quite the opposite feeling. In her was a drive to keep at it, a resolve to never stop dancing until she died. He sensed that something in her would die if she stopped and he found himself admiring her for how determined she was.


"Makiko...Let me bring you to the clinic," he said, making a motion to carry her. She shook her head.


"No...Please, just help me over to my bag," Makiko pleaded, looking up at him despite her tears.


Mitsui nodded and lifted her up in spite of her weak protests, surprised that she felt so light in his arms and that it felt RIGHT to just hold her like this. He swallowed, suddenly noticing what had changed in Makiko. Everything about her was so delicate, reminding him of expensive china that when handled roughly, would break in an instant. For a moment he was worried that he was hurting her but her voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked down at Makiko.


"I have some pain relievers in my bag. My therapist prescribed them so it will be okay," she said, gripping fistfuls of his shirt when renewed pain seized her foot.


Mitsui crossed over to where her bag was, lowering her gently and propping her up against the wall as he unzipped her bag. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her unlace her shoe slowly until the ribbons were all undone. When Makiko took off her pointe shoe, Mitsui shut his eyes briefly at the sight of the huge scar and shuddered.


"I'm sorry you had to see this," Makiko whispered, gingerly tracing the scar on her foot. Mitsui shook his head.


"It's nothing," he replied softly, going over to sit beside her as he handed her some small tablets and the bottle of water he found in her bag.


She downed the tablets, relief washing over her when the pain subsided a little. Turning to Mitsui, she sighed. "I'm really sorry I had to use the gym. There was nowhere else to practice."


Broad shoulders shrugged in reply. "Nah, it's okay," Mitsui grinned, suddenly forgetting their animosity. "Besides, I was able to see you dance," he added, giving her a sidelong glance.


Makiko smiled back. Suddenly she wasn't talking to her enemy since childhood, but a boy who seemed to have so much in common with her and she felt...comfortable. The voice that nagged her for talking to the enemy was forgotten in the background and for a while she and Mitsui just looked at each other in silence.


When the pain had subsided completely, Makiko sighed again. "Arigato for helping me," she said, albeit hesitantly as she accepted his hand to help her up.


Mitsui smirked sardonically. "I only helped you to so you could get out of the gym and let the team practice," he replied, back to being his arrogant self.


Hearing this Makiko flared up. "FINE! Be a jerk! I always knew you would never change, Mitsui! And just when I saw some hope!" She shouted, gathering her things and walking quickly out to the ladies' restrooms to change, slamming the doors behind her as she went.


And right there and then, Mitsui Hisashi suddenly felt like scum.






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To be continued...
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