A/N: I'm not a dancer, casual or professional. I'm much better at the literature aspect than the performing aspect even though I suck at it too. Anyway, here's the next chapter, please enjoy.
He watched the crowd increase in size as the designated time drew closer. It warmed his heart immensely to see so many spectators gather at his events. He was so giddy that he almost broke out dancing on the spot, but he remained professional and suppressed the urge. He'll wait for some alone time to start the happy dance.
'Can't let the unworthy lay eyes on perfection.' He was just excited to see so many eyes interested in his work, on the edge of their seats or bound to lose balance from standing from the anticipation. His shows never failed to entertain. Each segment was an extension of his vision and the result of years of hard work.
With so many people congregated, there was no doubt he'd gain some more soldiers to bolster his numbers. He usually had a few dying to join his ranks, but after his shows, that number practically tripled. Of course, he accepted all applicants. He is a fair man after all. No one is excluded from his curriculums. However, his school only accepted the willing and the best. The training is rigorous, and it is the easiest way to weed out the true diamonds. Not everyone is willing to put in the work and will quit after a couple of days, but those who work hard and are willing to endure the training will find their results bearing delicious fruit. Only the strong can attend his school, but that doesn't mean the less capable is harshly rejected. As stated, he is a fair instructor.
"This is going to be a great show," he declared, "I can feel it, ho, ho, ho!"
His students smiled amongst themselves as he went about his usual behavior. The first step is getting used to them. After that, everything falls into place. It becomes the student's job to put in the work. He just guides them.
Despite his age (50 years old), the sensei felt spryer than a spring chicken. His old eyes were still sharp, and presently, they were scanning the common people for potential recruits.
'How many diamonds are in the crowd? How much mining must I do?'
To continue his reign, the amount of labor did not matter.
He checked his watch and noticed the specified hour is upon them.
Clapping his hands, he got his army's attention. "Places everyone, it's time to show these people once again why we're the best! Vector and Vanilla, you guys are up first. Musicians, keep those instruments tuned. Technicians, I want those brilliant minds on call. Soldiers, get ready. It's showtime."
"Man, I've never seen so many people," Knuckles noted.
The size of the audience was staggering. All seating places were occupied, and the open fields were steadily filling up. Luckily, the group managed to find a decent spot in the open close enough to the stage.
"You should see the competitions they host. The tickets always sell out," Amy uttered. "They hold the best tournaments. We should enter the next one they host."
"Yeeeah, no," Knuckles replied bluntly.
"How can you sit through other people slow dancing to boring music?" Sonic, bored out of his mind, queried. The show hasn't started yet, and he was already uninterested.
"It's more than just dancing, Sonic," the pink hedgehog chastised him, "It's about developing the chemistry between you and your partner, finding that spark that empowers you. This school also specializes in drama and music, many ways to sweep a woman off her feet, something you should take notes on. Just watch; these guys will blow your socks off."
Sonic yawned. "If you say so, Ames, but don't get mad when I fall asleep."
"You're so childish sometimes," Amy huffed but then smirked at him, "It's a little endearing honestly. I bet you'll be so into the performance that we'll share a dance right here."
"Yeah," Sonic snorted, "Don't count on it, Amy."
Silver nudged his brother in the side gently. "If it's not by Crush 40, Sonic doesn't care for it," the aspiring artist slicked his white forehead quills back to imitate his brother's and pretended to hold a microphone, "Live and learn! Hanging on the edge of tomorrow!"
The group exploded with laughter while Sonic rounded on his brother, cheeks stained pink.
"Look who's talking, Mr. Dreams of an Absolution. Every day, I hear you cry your soul out in the shower," he imitated the imitator, "And every night I will save your life, and every night, I will come for you."
Silver, face equally flustered, blocked against Sonic's attempt to grab him. The two circled one another, not taking their eyes off their respective opponent.
"Hey, that song is amazing; don't disrespect Bentley Jones."
Sonic matched his brother's stride, reaching and slapping his adversary's hand away. "And don't trash the awesomeness that is Crush 40. They're a legend. They resonate with my soul."
"Your soul is just as hyperactive as you," Silver and Sonic laced hands, playfully pushing the other back.
"It's what I live for, bro. Gotta learn to take risks; you can't spend every moment in life trapped in your box."
"If I choose to seek discomfort, I'll make sure it's on my terms," Silver declared.
His brother smiled wider. "It doesn't matter now, just don't give up the fight."
Silver pressed forward, pushing Sonic back slightly. "You're right about one thing. I can't run away from all of my frights."
"As long as the voice inside you says go, I hope you keep on running."
Sonic managed to gain the upper hand and sent his brother's world spiraling out of control as he spun him and got the aspiring artist in a light chokehold.
"But enough jokes. I still haven't forgotten what you said about the chili dogs either. Now you listen here, oh precious brother of mine; I am a connoisseur on hotdog cuisine. There's no way you or anyone else can tell me otherwise. Chili dogs are power."
"Power enriched by your desires," Silver strained, "There are other foods you know."
"Yeah, but none can come close to the deliciousness of the almighty chili dog."
"Would you rather give up chili dogs or your fast speed?"
Before the words could leave Sonic's mouth, he faced the two paths presented before him. The fast life that allowed him to run faster than all the rest, or the delicacy that lifted him with its aroma alone.
What path does he choose?
During his internal thought, Silver freed himself and captured his brother's deep concentration with his mind's eye.
"Well, that was easy," he chuckled.
"Wow, this is the hardest I've ever seen him think," Tails remarked, waving a hand in front of Sonic's face, not receiving a response, "How come I never thought to ask that? The amount of peace I'd get sounds like an endless possibility now."
Rouge clapped her hands and shushed her friends. "It's starting guys."
The masses grew silent, and the velvet curtains shifted as a large, rotund, and balding man stepped onto the stage. Aside from the man's bushy, mahogany mustache, he wore a charcoal gray business suit with a red tie, white collared shirt, and a pair of rounded sunglasses.
"Is this the founder?" Tails inquired.
"Yep, that's him," Amy answered, "Founder and main instructor. He's a little… eccentric, but he's great at his job."
"I still might fall asleep," Sonic, done thinking, stated.
"Oh, Sonic, you have an answer to my question?" Silver grinned. He endured the glare from his elder brother.
"You be quiet."
"Shush!" Amy ordered them, her magic silencing the two boys without fail.
Maybe it was the energy getting to him, but the large man took a few moments to bathe in the applause. This is his empire. Everything his eyes focused on was his to order around, and in his empire, he saw nothing but potential. Men and women, boys and girls, and Mobians and humans gathered in front of him, standing together in peaceful harmony. This was part of his vision. He foresaw a legion unrestricted by their burdens, battalions rising above the normal thinking, and pushing past their limits to reach new heights. He believes every soul has a voice inside them. His mission is to help that voice guide the soul through that boundless potential.
This is his art.
Alas, as much as he enjoyed the handclapping, it was time to get things started. He raised his hand to quell the audiences' restlessness.
"It's always a pleasure to see such an amazing crowd," he said, his voice strong and brash, "Thank you, everyone, for taking the time to be here this afternoon. My name is Dr. Julian Ivo Robotnik, headmaster of the Julianard School of Performance Arts. Today, we have a short show for all of you. Several of my students will display their talents, and it will be up to you, the audience, to determine which performance was the best. Who will come out on top? Who will captivate the hearts of men and women alike? Who will be the one to rule the world?! HO! HO! HO!"
The man pumped his arms while laughing at the heavens, his hearty chortle reaching the back of the audience, who were split between clapping or questioning his sanity.
"You were right, Amy. He does have a few screws loose," Sonic chuckled with the man, "He's funny though."
"At least he enjoys what he does," Silver commented.
"A little too much if you ask me," Knuckles crossed his arms.
The kind headmaster cleared his throat. "Now then, if everybody's comfortable, get a load of this."
Smoke started to catch the wind, dancing lights crisscrossing over the foggy vapor.
"Our first contenders are long-time students and instructors with a passion for ballroom dance. One's a vicious predator and the other is a sweet prey, but be careful, for the prey just might become the predator. Say hello to the duo who has the drive, the skills, the power, and the charm to plant themselves as the world's ruling couple. Vanilla the Rabbit and Vector the Crocodile!"
It was at this moment Sonic and the boys lost control of their jaws to gravity while Rouge and Amy joined the crowd in cheer.
"Vanilla and Vector?" Sonic picked his jaw up first.
"Since when is Vector a dance instructor?" Knuckles was the second.
The team waved to the crowd, both sporting their elegant outfits. Vanilla modeled a crimson, knee-length dress and black strapped heels with leather soles. Her partner sported a matching color dress shirt with a black vest over it and holes to accommodate his back spikes and tail, a pair of straight-cut, black pants, and shoes with also leather soles.
Vector raised his brow at Robotnik for the intro, but he just received a thumbs-up in response. Vanilla was quite entertained by it and showed no qualms. Once the head teacher gave his students the floor, the duo shared a brief nod before adopting the right frame. Vector, the lead, placed his right hand on Vanilla's left shoulder, extended his left hand to the side, and grasped the follow's right hand. Midway down Vector's left arm, Vanilla's left hand sat on the crocodile's muscle. With preparations complete, the follow signaled the musicians to begin playing.
The music started, the tune strong and the beat clear. Vector started things off, stepping forward with his left foot, and Vanilla mirroring by stepping back with her right. They followed the basic steps perfectly, but once the music increased in tempo, the two entered dance mode. The beat hit harder and faster while staying clear. The duo forwent the fundamentals and danced side by side, twisting and twirling, stepping to the beat in perfect harmony, reading the others' movements without needing a cue. For the entire dance, the team never looked away from each other.
Their steps hypnotized the masses, the pendulum swing of their hips captivating as the spell erased the outside world.
In the dark abyss, the audience captured a speck of red gliding across the flooring. It was inviting, beckoning folks to join the ritual. Those who obeyed the request was greeted by a divine presence, her ethereal beauty too brilliant for mortal eyes to behold.
Next to the divine beauty was a guardian soldier answering her pleas with his waltz. He danced for her, communicated with her, dipped her and gazed wistfully into the conflagrations of her beautiful soul. His soul resonated with hers, their inner voices crying out. As the song came to an end, the dancers twirled, finally ending their affair with the lead pressing the follow's back into his strong chest, and the follow reaching up, her hand on the side of his snout.
"I have you, my prey," her half-lidded eyes told him.
The spell has ended. Everything went back to normal, but it took a moment for the denizens to escape the abyss. The sunlight, they concluded, paled in comparison to the otherworldly beauty and her guardian.
Thunderous applause burst forth from the spectators. So many were struck dumb that they couldn't think, only to show their gratitude for an amazing illusion.
"Wasn't that beautiful folks?" the headmaster came back on stage, wiping his face with a handkerchief. "How's that for an opening act? Well, I have good news. It only gets better from here. Don't forget to vote for your favorite performance at the end. Now let's welcome the next performance."
Rouge giggled at her friends, who were all stunned saved for Amy and Tails. The yellow fox was the quickest to get his stupor under control.
"Wow, that was incredible," he said, face lit with glee.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Rouge replied. "And you boys were so nervous," she nudged the flabbergasted Knuckles in the side. The minute he regained his thoughts, Knuckles turned his head to the side in an attempt to hide his massive blush.
"Okay, they weren't half bad, I admit it," he stated, not appreciating Rouge's giggle.
"Not half bad?" she parroted, "They had you guys starstruck, and take a look at our lovely couple."
Knuckles and Tails followed Rouge's gaze, coming face to face with a most surprising sight. It took all of Knuckles' willpower not to laugh. Tails simply approved.
Fingers laced together as one, Sonic held Amy's soft, delicate hands in his. He was half-aware, so he had no idea what was going on. Amy, on the other hand, held onto the reality of her dream, except it was not a dream. Even she didn't know when it happened. One moment, she was lost in Vector and Vanilla's dance. The next, she was reaching for Sonic's stretched out hand, and the two shared what Amy considered to be one of the best things to ever happen to her. That short moment felt like an eternity. That one dance seemed to last forever, and she enjoyed the way her hands melded perfectly with the blue hedgehog's. A match made in heaven.
"Please, tell me you recorded it," Knuckles said to Rouge, struggling to contain his amusement.
"Of course," the sultry bat revealed the footage captured with her phone, "It helps to multitask. I wouldn't pass this up, but Sonic's chemistry with Amy needs serious work. I've seen worse synergy but still."
"It's Sonic," Tail spoke up, "You heard him earlier about the breakdancing."
Upon hearing his name, Sonic sobered up. Although, he was slightly dazed and couldn't figure out why. It felt like he just had an amazing dream.
"Wha?" he looked around, seeing various gazes from his friends on him, "What's going on? Did I fall asleep like I said?"
His answer came in the form of a flirtatious giggle, courtesy of the pink hedgehog holding his hands. Sonic doesn't remember Amy's face being so close to him before the performance started. Not only that, but Sonic also doesn't recall a time he stared and admired the pinkette's beautiful locks and piercing green eyes that sparkled like stars in the night sky.
"Amy?" Sonic's bedazzlement made the female hedgehog laugh again.
"So, what was that about not counting on a dance?" she reminded him.
It all came rushing back to him. Sonic immediately let go of Amy's hand and hid his embarrassed face.
"I told you they would blow your socks off," Amy retorted. She would never forget the flushed face of her one true love or the way his eyes focused solely on her during that moment. It was like the universe had granted her wish for a brief reprieve. Was it warning her of the future? Was this her chance to strike?
"Okay! You were right. That was better than I expected," Sonic admitted, "But I did not dance with you. You most likely tried to dance with me, and I held you back by the hands."
"No, you two danced," Rouge corrected, showing them the footage. Amy's face lit up while Sonic's turned a few shades redder.
"We look so cute!" the pink hedgehog squealed.
"Delete that!" the blue one demanded.
Rouge wagged her finger back and forth, clicking her tongue in a sassy manner. "Now why would I do that? I can get a lot of mileage out of this, and besides, you two make such a lovely couple. I can't delete such a promising moment."
"Send it to me, send it to me," Amy begged her friend, "I'll treasure this moment forever, right Sonic?"
The hedgehog in question refused to look at his friends.
"Uhh, guys," Tails joined in, "I think Silver's lost it."
Everyone turned to the aspiring artist, who lingered silent through the ordeal. While they managed to escape the abyss, Silver remained trapped, but his actions told his circle how he was doing. In his right hand, he wielded a weapon and swung it in various patterns while his free one held the imaginary object steady. His golden eyes glistened with vigor.
"Yes!" he suddenly cheered, startling a couple of audience members. His sword strikes were precise. With a planned stroke, Silver fiercely attacked the imaginary canvas. "Just a little more… and done!"
Silver stopped attacking and admired his mental creation. It showed a stunning Vanilla holding a ball of light in her palm while Vector, with his back to hers, held a similar orb in his clutches. His was painted a cream color, but his face did not mirror's Vanilla's beautiful smile. The weight of the world was perched on his shoulders, but as he stared into the glistening orb, it brought him solace, even though the truth was staring right back at him. In the black background, a bed of rose petals lies scattered over the floor, and a blood-red moon lit up the sky.
Although he succeeded, Silver's heart's itch that was crushing inside his soul did not die down. Silver tasted freedom, an explosive burst of euphoria, and like an explosion, it vanished with the moment, but not before he managed to complete his piece.
"I can't believe it," the artist gasped, finally coming to terms with the everyday, "I drew something."
"Hey, that's great buddy," Sonic commented, wrapping his arm around Silver's shoulder, "But uh, listen," he leaned closer and whispered to his little sibling, "Your little discovery there drew some curious glances your way. Ya might want to tone it down."
True to his brother's words, Silver noticed the various stares from several onlookers, who caught the hedgehog attacking the air like a maniac. To him, he was painting. To those around him, it looked like he was wounding someone furiously while keeping that person bound.
He stiffened slightly, cheeks burning with embarrassment. A nervous laugh escaped his muzzle.
"Sorry, I got caught up in the moment."
"But this proves my idea is perfect," Amy asserted, "One look at the performance was enough to reignite your passion."
"In your own words, what did you paint?" Tails inquired. "It might be the heat, but I can't be the only one who lost touch with reality."
Silver closed his eyes and retrieved the painting from the museum in his brain. He went to the most recent addition and smiled. It was still there.
"Two orbs of light, both emitting a different color. On the left, I saw Vector holding on to cream-colored one, and on the right, Miss Vanilla grasped one of pure light. They stood back to back, surrounded by a bed of rose petals, with a red moon in the background. I'm not sure why, but Vector wasn't smiling in the picture. His heart looked heavy, but Miss Vanilla was free from her burdens, as if unaware."
"You see? That's poetry. I'm signing you up for classes," Amy proclaimed.
"What? No, I don't need to take classes, Amy," Silver rejected.
"No talking your way out of this. You have talent, and I hate to see it go to waste. After the show is over, I'm dragging you to the sign-up station. I'll even forge your name and signature if I have to."
"One problem though, Ames," Sonic said, "If he's focused on his dance steps, he can't focus on his art, and that's his main issue."
"Exactly," Silver agreed.
However, the pinkette was not deterred. "You just saw him. Dancing is his starter. If he can combine the two, he can create masterpieces. Think about it, Silver, you're the brush, and the entire stage is your canvas. Every step you make is a single stroke."
"Amy," Silver sighed, "I appreciate the help, but that's too much for me to handle."
"That's quitter talk, Silver. As your future sister-in-law, I will not let you downplay your abilities, not after what I witnessed. You can do this, just believe in yourself. Remember; as long as the voice inside you says go, you have to keep on running."
"Don't use my favorite songs against me. Guys?" Silver looked for assistance.
"Hey, it's your call," Knuckles shrugged, "You were in the zone though. I haven't seen you that focused in a while."
"But that was more so the quality of the performance and not the actual partake," Tails added, "How about we see the whole show before jumping to conclusions?"
"You always did enjoy dancing, bro," Sonic pointed out.
"Yeah but strictly casually," his brother countered, "I just like listening to something that makes my foot tap. I can't handle large crowds critiquing me. I'd die if I had to perform in front of one. At least when submitting painting, I'm interviewed by a small group and can remain anonymous to the fanbase."
"We can join you," Amy stated, "If that'll make things easier, we can group up. You heard the instructor. We have what it takes to rule the world of dance."
"No, I told you, I'm not dancing," Knuckles adamantly denied, folding his arms defiantly, "You guys can get up there and show them your moves. I want no part of it."
"Help a friend out Knuckles," Amy chastised the echidna.
"From the sidelines, and that's final."
"Will you all shut up!" Rouge screeched at them, "The second team is coming out."
She didn't care for people who interrupted her shows.
The group of friends missed the introduction for the next duo, only catching them as they stepped onto the stage. On the left, a fair-skinned, tall man with a slim face waved to the fans. His bright blue eyes scanned the masses, humbled by their rapt ovation. He wore a black fedora with a navy-blue belt, a white, long-sleeved dress shirt with a red and white striped tie, and a black suit with well-polished, heel-less black shoes with pointed toes.
On the man's right, he was accompanied by a lightly tanned, young woman with bright blue eyes and short brown-orange hair that traveled down to her shoulders and pointed upwards. She was a little taller than her partner and adorned a mixed yellow-orange, knee-length halter dress with the seams crossing over her neck, and on her feet were white high-heeled court shoes.
"We missed the introduction," Amy whispered to Rouge, "Who are they?"
The bat rolled her eyes. "Luigi and Daisy," she replied.
Everyone's ears perked up as the music started. Unlike the tune that played during Vector and Vanilla's performance, the beats were faster while the melody remained relatively slow. This did not matter to the duo since they easily got into a proximity frame and began their routine.
Luigi, as Rouge kindly pointed out, took his partner by the hand and twirled in place with her, snapping his arm out, and letting his partner do the same. He tugged her back, watching her spin on her heels and land in his embrace, her back pressed against his chest.
A distinct glint flashed in Daisy's eyes as her partner read her thoughts, the music moving through them and moving between them. Her dressed flowed with her spin, her body elevating and lowering with Luigi's as the music added more instruments, and with the improvement of the tune, Luigi and Daisy's steps spoke an incantation.
The world faded once again, and in its place, a great, large meadow of flowers stretched before them. Lilies, daisies, tulips, and other various flora surrounded the audience. A slim waterfall roared in the distance, water cascading into a shallow river that flowed between two plots of land. Birds partnered up, dancing in midair, but a single spotlight shined down upon a certain couple in delighted envy. Their bare feet touched the grass lightly, the sound of their favorite song playing in the background. The brunette was tossed in the air and caught in the arms of her partner. They laced fingers and extended their arms, spinning in a circle, a fiery manifestation of their spirits shining brightly through their grace.
As if hearing the audience drawing closer, the couple closed in, one final spin, and posed for the masses, the man's arm snaking around Daisy's waist, and the brunette's arm going around Luigi's shoulder, the other arms out stretched to their respective side.
Without the crowd's receptive standing ovation, the spell would've prolonged.
Luigi tipped his hat, his way of thanking the people for their gratitude, and Daisy blew a single kiss, ending with a wink as the two retreated through the curtains. Julian Robotnik took their place, clapping along with the crowd.
"Marvelous performance from our lovely dancers. How about another round of applause, ladies and gentlemen?"
"Well?" Amy spoke up, expecting a decent answer from her future brother-in-law, "What did you think of that one?"
Silver opened his eyes. His yellow orbs flashed for a second before he responded. "A couple dancing in the moonlight, their story foretelling a forbidden love affair between social classes. The man, captivated by the princess-like qualities of the woman, desperately tries to win her heart, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot muster the courage to tell her how he feels, unaware of the princess being interested in him as well. However, the woman's family is dead set against it, disappointed that their only daughter reciprocates this lowly man's feelings. Try as the parents might to bar the princess from seeing him, she refused to give up her feelings. They had a dream they felt would never die – to be together forever, until the end of time, and now that the battle has begun, it's too late to run and hide."
He blinked twice and finally came back to reality. "Huh? I'm sorry, Amy, what did you say?"
His response was in the form of light applause by his friends and a few spectators who picked up on his description. Silver, taken aback by this, copied Knuckles' coloring.
"Dude, that was beautiful," Sonic gave him a thumbs up, "How did you come up with that, and why does it sound completely true?"
"I don't know, it just came to me. It can't be true though; that's some fairy tale story."
"You're only proving my point further, Silver," Amy refused to budge on her decision, "What more proof do you need?"
"Why are you so adamant about this?" Silver had to ask.
"Because I know how much your art means to you. You obviously like these performances to the point that your problem, which you asked for help with, has been solved. The first performance sparked your creative flow, the second gave you more material to work with, and I bet by the last performance, you'll have a work of art so beautiful it will break records. I want you to have this, Silver. I know you can do it, but if you don't act now, you'll regret it, and I don't want you to go through that. I've seen too many people go through the same ordeal. I won't let the same happen to you."
That touched even Knuckles' heart.
"You really think I can do this?" Silver tried not to get too emotional.
"Wow, Amy," Sonic was just as impressed.
"You won't know until you try," Amy replied with a huge grin threatening to split her face. "Our mission is to cure your painter's block. Who said we couldn't add a third specialty to your repertoire? Artsy, poetic, and a good dancer, what skillset can be better?"
Silver combed his fingers through his quills. Stuck at crossroads, the aspiring artist struggled to decide. While his pink-haired friend brought up good points, something held him back. It was this indecisiveness that Silver loathed about himself. He didn't brag about his talents or boasted about the fruits of his labor like others would, but when it came to tough decisions, he always remained uncertain. He hated it. Silver absolutely hated it.
"Once the final performance ends, I'll give you my answer. Right now, I need time to think," he responded.
In her world, everything was perfect. No conflict, no stresses; it was just her, living inside the peaceful castle she conjured. The inner machinations of her mind are a steel fortress, an impenetrable stronghold where she could refine her focus.
Meditation was the feline's way of keeping herself grounded. Staying focused helped eliminate unnecessary thoughts. The mind should be strong and flexible, open but disciplined, there was no need for distractions.
She exhaled a deep breath, her posture straight, and her mind clear. It became a routine, but before every performance, she sat and meditated. Her castle shielded her from all outside distractions, allowing her to focus on what truly mattered.
The crowd meant nothing to her, their roaring was merely a test to improve her resilience. People get caught up in the hype and make mistakes. Not her, she used the distraction to her advantage.
Loyal and undying fans, while a great boost to her ego, were annoying in large quantities. Paparazzi were only there for the honor of being there. True fans would see her as an inspiration to better themselves. These so-called loyalists wanted to only mooch off her prestige and brag to people that they got the chance to meet her.
Her triangular ears with peach-colored canals twitched, alerting her of someone approaching. She invited the presence into her castle, knowing, without opening her eyes, it was Miss Vanilla based on the light pace of her footsteps.
"It's your turn, hon," softly said the upperclassman. "The doctor has the crowd all hyped up for you."
The final act of today opened her eyes, revealing sharp, golden eyes. Her long tail, frayed at the end with dark purple, unwrapped itself from around her middle and took its position behind her.
"Thank you, Vanilla."
She rose from her spot, and with a sudden burst of speed, glided across the floor.
"You and Vector were great out there, by the way," she paused in her stride, "But please save the flirting for another time."
The elder rabbit simply waved off the claim with a small giggle.
"That's more or less what tango is, dear, just a little less scandalous. It takes two after all," Vanilla winked.
"Hm," the feline couldn't refute the claim and left it be. She had her performance to concentrate on. Other thoughts were unnecessary.
As she approached the curtains, she just heard the head instructor wind down his fervent introduction.
"Please welcome our mistress of regality. With beauty and grace, she glides across the floor as if flying, with a style created from her very soul and refined in the flames of Iblis. Although of a noble soul, she does have claws to match her blistering moves. Say hello to Blaze the Cat!"
Blaze rolled her eyes before revealing herself. Her lavender and violet fur shined under the sunshine, her gold eyes scanning the masses with their oval-shaped, ebony pupils. Her small black nose wiggled slightly, smelling the fresh air mixed with the delicious aroma rising from the numerous concession stands. Her fur was longer on each side of her head and swept slightly upwards. Atop her head, she had four plumes of hair with dark purple tips done up in a high ponytail by a red hair tie. On her forehead, a red, oval gem glistened from the reflective rays of the light.
Since it was a casual performance, Blaze opted for her standard attire: a purple tailcoat with the bottom dark pink, a gold collar, white leggings, white gloves with fuzzy cuffs, and high heeled, dark pink shoes with white stripes and matching cuffs like her gloves.
She waved to the crowd and took her position. Her eyes closed, her breathing evened out, and all distractions emptied from her mind. It was just her and the dance floor, and the floor was calling out for her.
A snap of her fingers signaled the band to begin. An electric guitar led the mix. Next came the electric bass and drums, and Blaze was ready to perform. She advanced, kicking her left leg forward, and entering a revolving whirl with her arms extended and right foot pointed on the floor, a perfect combination of grace and precision. Her armed moved like water, fluid, as she swayed, her tailcoat fluttering. She moved both arms above her head, head snapping side to side, pulled them apart, moving in a circle, and lowered them back to her side. She felt in control, her movements advancing with absolute clarity and poise, her stride refined with an elegant posture that revealed the obvious amount of practice she put into her sequence.
Never once did Blaze lose concentration. She opened her eyes, a somewhat half-lidded stare seeing past the audience and looking at the horizon. The feline dancer reached for that freedom and clenched her fist, drawing her extended arm back, and pressing her closed hands to her chest. Another revolving whirl captivated the audience, her elevated leg stretching for a second before snapping back to add more momentum to her spin. With her rotation going strong, she leaped across the stage with her arms and leg trailing behind with the other leg jetting forward with its knee.
She landed gracefully and entered the next part, no loss in her stride. Both arms shot up, palms coming together above her head while her right knee jetted to the side like a prima ballerina. Blaze closed her eyes again and let the music take control of her body. She embraced the world it gave her and let her do is it pleased. Her burning heart lit up her path, and with the music as her guide, she pushed her legs to travel the way. She didn't care where it led. It was her choice to decide what appeared at the end, and as the light grew brighter, she knew what waited for her. Blaze pushed herself to the edge and seized hold of the single spark that was her freedom.
The music, as well as Blaze's routine, came to an end. The feline hit a pose with her feet firmly planted on the ground, right hand raised to and away from her chest with the palm out, holding something important, and the left balled up but not clenched, still free. Her eyes fluttered open, gauging the audience's reaction. As far as she could see, mouths were at the will of gravity, hitting the floor as each member looked back at her with beguiled and shocked countenances.
Things were silent, so much that if a pin hit the floor, everyone could hear it. However, there was someone who managed to escape their bindings. A single clap touched Blaze's ears. Before the audience drowned it out, she quickly searched the masses for the individual. It was then her golden eyes met another pair of the same color. She was certain the first clap came from the young hedgehog vigorously clapping his hands at her performance. His mouth was still lost to gravity, but it pleased Blaze regardless that he was the focused one. Despite leaving the audience starstruck, someone kept their bearings long enough to critique her.
A small smirk tugged at Blaze's lips. She studied the light gray furred hedgehog with white chest fur surrounding his neck and tan skin. He had two large quills at the back of his head while five more flared up at the top of his forehead and back, the two final ones covering up most of his ears. Blaze wondered what was going through his head as he observed her. The intense look of concentration was on another level. Only a handful of people could maintain a deep concentrative state for so long before it broke. One look into his eyes told Blaze enough. He was one of the handfuls of people, like her.
'I wonder.'
Blaze, satisfied with her routine, curtseyed to the audience, disguised a wave to the audience as one for the silver hedgehog, and walked off the stage, where her fellow classmen congratulated her on a job well done. She took the compliments with a level head and red cheeks, embarrassed by the abundant affection.
"That was amazing!"
"Great job!"
"Beautiful!"
"Excellent job, indeed, Blaze," congratulated the head instructor, "You had your subjects eating out of the palms of your paws. Tell me, how did it feel having complete control over the world? Exquisite, right?"
Blaze's hands landed on her hips. "It was brief, but I did enjoy it. Although, what was that about my dance being honed in the flames of Iblis?"
Robotnik chuckled. "Oh, that was something I just came up with. I thought it would add more flare. What did you think? I was proud of it."
"Not even half the audience knew what you were talking about," the feline responded.
Julian frowned. "It's not my fault they're uncultured. Now, standby everyone, time for the audience to judge the performance," he walked onto the stage, thrilled with the excitement ringing from the crowd, despite their uncivilized upbringing. His hand went up to silence the masses.
"I hope you all enjoyed the show. Wasn't that a grand display of talent? Let's give the performers one last round of applause."
The roar was deafening, gratifying to the head instructor's ears.
"You've all been a wonderful audience, but before we close out, it's time to determine which of our wonderful contestants deserve to rule the world. With your voice, you, the audience, will cheer for your favorite performance and make them your new leader."
Robotnik whistled, and a team of technicians emerged from backstage. With lightning-quick synergy, the group set up a monitor, speakers, and gave the head instructor a small device with a microphone attached to the top. As quickly as they came, the team disappeared behind the curtains.
"And people say it's hard to find good help," Robotnik laughed. "Now then, folks, let's begin. If I can have our contestants come back on stage."
One by one, the dancers lined up on stage: Vector and Vanilla on the far left, Luigi and Daisy in the middle, and Blaze on the far right by her lonesome.
Robotnik fiddled with the device in his hand, humming a tune as he worked his magic. The monitor displayed the performers and a replay of their routine.
"I'll call out the participants, and we'll let your cheers decide who wins. This nifty device in my hand will measure the sound waves and quantify it. The highest number wins. Simple, right? Now, let's begin with our first performers: the Prey and Predator - Vector and Vanilla!"
The two Mobians stepped forward and bowed to the audience, Vector glaring at the instructor for the implications. Julian pointed the microphone on his device towards the crowd and gave the signal. He was glad for earplugs. Without them, he would've gone deaf from the screaming.
The bar beside Vector and Vanilla's portrait filled with color, starting from a dull, very dark-blue, and transitioning to a normal red. A percentage was being totaled, numbers skyrocketing to the triple digits.
"130 decibels! Thunderous levels of love for the dream team! That will be a tough number to beat. Let's hope we don't suffer permanent hear loss," Julian riled the crowd up, "Next up, our Romeo and Juliet, Luigi and Daisy!"
The bolero dancers waved to their fans while Robotnik gathered their soundwaves. On the monitor, the bar rose, soaring from blue to a dull dark-red, while the numbers closed in on Vector and Vanilla's record.
Alas, "Ooh, so close! 120 decibels, sorry guys, but even the human voice at its loudest could not reach the threshold, but I'm sure the sirens will ring for you next time."
It was a shame, but the couple had fun at least.
Robotnik gave the duo a hand. "And last but certainly not least, the Mistress of Regality: Blaze the Cat!"
The feline curtseyed, but her focus lied elsewhere.
'Is he still here?' she pondered. Her eyes searched the back of the crowd, but it was more filled up than before. More people had gathered in between performances. She couldn't find the golden-eyed hedgehog.
'Another time then.'
Blaze wouldn't worry about it. She focused back on the cheering, thanking her instructor's warning about earplugs. With her sensitive hearing, the roar of the crowd was more dangerous for her. Her teacher was quite the character, but he was prepared for most cases. Just before the show, he provided everyone with keener hearing earplugs.
Daisy tapped on Blaze's shoulder, urging her underclassman to view the screen, but the cat Mobian had no need. She knew the bar was filled, hitting a bright, scarlet red with the decibels clocking at a whopping 140.
"My word," Robotnik adjusted his glasses, "140 decibels! Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the pain threshold! With an incredible 140 decibels, your new leader is none other than Blaze the Cat! Give her a hand, folks!"
Blaze stayed in front, showing her appreciation with a fancy twirl and pose that got the crowd more excited. Her classmen shared their praise, the head instructor crying his soul out, proud of his students for dominating the world. He couldn't be prouder.
On the other hand, Blaze simply waved it off. She won, but that's all it was for her. A victory she worked harder for. In her eyes, there was no need for celebrations. It was just unnecessary.
'Unnecessary.' Her thoughts repeated themselves. 'It's all unnecessary.'
