AN:I wrote this in 2015 on a flight to spain. Originally it was much longer but considering recent manga releases, it made sense to cut it at this point.
With her chestnut hair swept over her shoulder and her long dress catching the light, she was any man's dream. She was beautiful. But not for him.
Sayuri sits alone at the side of the hall. As usual, Guren has ducked out and abandoned her at the first possible moment – lest he either be forced to dance or spend any time talking to Kureto. He probably slipped away through the crowds the moment Shinya was accosted by his brother. Yeah, that'd be like him. Disappear and leave Shinya to smooth things over. After all, it's not like he ever minds.
...On occasions like this he minds, just a little.
He approaches Sayuri without thinking. She has put effort into tonight. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, accented by a jewelled hairpiece. Her ears are adorned with modest studs that catch the light when she tilts her head. Her dress is red and flows over her body, clinging in what to anybody else would be 'all the right places'. But not to Guren. Never to Guren.
She will wait for him, as she always does, until the event ends and only a few drunken officials (and the Hiiragi family) linger. She will refuse any men who seek to take her hand for the next dance. She always saves her first and last dance for him.
He never takes it.
She looks up as Shinya approaches. Her eyes, usually so warm, are sad. Yet still she smiles as he catches her eye and as she does her head tilts to the side. Her hair sweeps over her shoulder, rippling under the lights. It strikes him that she is beautiful.
'Guren take off again?' he asks, taking a seat beside her.
'He said he'd be back in a minute,' she responds, and neither of them believe it.
Her smile shrinks. Shinya's widens as if to compensate.
'Lucky me,' he says. 'I get to have you all to myself.'
She smiles at that, a bittersweet smile but at least it reaches her eyes. At least the evening is not a total loss.
Shinya regularly thinks that her life would be so much nicer if she took back her heart from Guren and chose to give it to somebody capable if not of treating her like a princess then at least loving her as much as she loves them. But in all the years he's known her, she hasn't. And he guesses if he's honest, that's what he likes most about her.
She is loyal. She is loving. And she will always take care of Guren, no matter the circumstances. She always puts the grouchy Lieutenant Colonel first, before all else.
Just like Shinya does.
The music hangs over them, taking their silence and making it something more. It's too loud, Shinya, thinks, and it's not the volume. The tune, at any other time, would be pleasant. But this isn't any other time.
He glances towards the door. There is no sign of Guren returning - of course there isn't.
Surprising himself, Shinya stands. It isn't the alcohol – he hasn't been drinking, didn't get the chance before Kureto was there and then Guren gone. But something unidentified has happened to him, some strange urge to do something silly, something fun.
He reaches out a hand to Sayuri. 'May I have this dance?'
The words are out before he can retract them. The notion is firmly implanted in his mind before he's truly considered it. All he knows is that he suddenly wants to throw caution to the wind.
Sayuri's lips part in surprise. She takes in a breath and he knows that when she exhales, the word, 'No,' will come with it. It always does. He isn't Guren; he isn't the person she is here for.
She takes his hand. His eyes widen slightly in surprise. Her skin is soft against his and he almost doesn't hear her words over the music.
'Yes. Actually, yes.' Uncertain, she meets his eyes, sees something in them and looks sharply away. Pink lightly brushes her cheeks. 'That is, if you still…'
He squeezes her hand, flashing her a dazzling smile. 'Of course. There is nobody in this room I'd like to dance with more,' he says and in this moment, it is true.
Still, even as he leads her to the centre of the dancefloor, he knows that this dance is not for him. There is only one person that either of them truly wishes to dance with.
But tonight, he will be her Guren. Tonight, he wants to dance. And he wants to dance for himself, not for politics, not for good relations, not for keeping up the intrigue of 'Which Hiiragi will marry next?' and 'What are they going to do with the adoptee now that his fiancée is dead?'
He begins the dance with skill that befits a member of the Hiiragi house. And then he stops thinking. Why bother? Why count steps in his mind? What's fun about that? What's fun about this?
What is fun about this is twirling Sayuri around the dancefloor, weaving between rigidly stepping officials and flowing like water. He forgets the steps and follows the melody. He forgets, for a moment, the identity of the woman in his arms. He forgets that he is Guren.
And then he moves too unpredictably and she bumps against his chest and gingerly looks up. And there she is, Sayuri Hanayori, in that red dress, with long, curled eyelashes. And Shinya remembers. He is Guren tonight. For some reason, his heart sinks.
He smiles apologetically, contains his movements, tries again to forget. He is Shinya HIiragi once again, and he must act accordingly. He focuses on the dance, the steps, the woman in his arms.
She is poetry and yet she isn't. When he looks down at her, the ground beneath him neither shakes nor falls away like it would in a novel. The world neither carries on without them nor stops turning. His heart does not skip a beat. The only thing Shinya skips is a breath as he realises the way he's looking at her – like she's a woman, like he might even be interested in that fact.
The end of the dance seems to take them both by surprise. They are at the edge of the dance floor when the music stops, fingers still intertwined. As they pause to share a look, Sayuri's lips are parted in a wordless, 'Oh.'
And then she breaks into a smile – a real smile this time, with no trace of sadness, no trace of Guren. 'Shinya, thank you,' she says, and it's warm, sincere, honey and milk. 'I'm glad I gave my last dance to you.'
The music resumes – a slow number. Behind them, a select number of couples have taken to the floor to sway together in time to the music. Shinya catches something flicker across Sayuri's face as she looks over his shoulder at the door but she looks away and it is gone.
He's not sure what possesses him to say it – not Byakkomaru, that's for sure – but he can't stop himself. It isn't pity as he first thought. Nor is it some stupid need to stick it to the Hiiragi House however he can by mingling with the wrong types, refusing to dance with the heads of houses. Call him crazy but he wants this dance for himself.
After all, why should this evening end under Guren's shadow?
'Who said that had to be your last?' he says, and then adds more confidently, 'Would you care for another?'
She looks up, eyes wide. She isn't smiling. Her gaze flickers over his shoulder and then back to his face, her lips parted in confusion. Shinya holds his smile, holds his hand out to her. Finally, she takes one last look at the door and then places her hand in his.
'If you'll have me,' she says.
Shinya has had a few. Not many - he likes to remain in control of his senses in this political battlefield - but he can feel the warmth of alcohol in his chest and he can't deny the flutter in his stomach as he catches Sayuri's eye across the room.
His first thought is that she is beautiful in her midnight blue gown. His second is that Guren sits scowling in the chair next to her. The two should be the other way around but he is still irritated by the way Guren pushed him away yesterday so he lets that slide and approaches.
'What an ugly face to wear beside such a pretty lady,' he teases.
Guren pulls at his tie. 'Shut up, Shinya,' he mutters and looks over to Sayuri. 'How long till I can leave?'
Shinya looks over too. Under both of their gazes, Sayuri seems to shrink. A pink blush flushes her cheeks. 'W-well, the speeches have only just ended so you should really stay at least a little longer.' She looks up at Shinya, determination suddenly burning in her eyes. 'Don't you think?'
She trusts him. Shinya nods lightly. 'Of course. Really Guren should stay all night and enjoy himself. There's plenty of dancing to be done, food to eat and drinks to drink after all. But Guren's too boring for that…'
Were Goshi here, he would laugh. But Goshi hasn't been invited to this particular meeting. He isn't an officer. Nor is he heir to his house. Instead, he is scouting with Mito and another squad, and Shinya's needling is destined not to be laughed at.
Guren scowls, muttering something under his breath. A softly stifled giggle reaches Shinya's ears. Sayuri wipes at her eyes. Shinya regards her with surprise, his smile strengthening.
'I don't dance,' Guren adds grumpily. 'And I certainly don't have any desire to eat and drink in this company.'
'How rude!' Shinya teases. 'I'll have you know, Sayuri and I are the best of company – and we're both extremely good dancers. Unless Guren is too ashamed of his skills to show us how it's done…'
Music begins to waft over from the band as the musicians start to organise themselves.
'I said I don't dance,' Guren responds peevishly, 'Not that I can't.'
'Oh?' Shinya prompts.
'No,' Guren says, leaning back in his chair, arms folded. Sayuri fidgets next to him, looks like she might say something, but doesn't.
Shinya sits down, draping an arm over the back of Guren's chair, gesturing with the other one. Guren ignores both, fixing him with a long suffering look.
'But Guren, if you never dance, then we'll never know. And both Sayuri and I will have to keep believing that the head of the Ichinose family is an embarrassingly bad dancer.'
Guren sighs, his shoulders sloping. 'Why are you so hell bent on getting me to dance?'
The music is truly up and running now. Pairs of people are moving to the dance floor and striking up a rhythm. Shinya fixes Guren with a knowing smile but says nothing.
'Tch,' Guren says and Shinya knows he has won. Guren is tired. Shinya can see it in his eyes, in the set of his jaw. 'If I dance once, will you leave me alone?'
Scratch that – Guren is very tired, must be to relent this quickly. Still, Shinya smiles a wide smile and nods lightly. 'If it's good enough.'
Guren stands, pulls his arms behind his back and stretches. 'Sayuri,' he calls over his shoulder, lazily stretching his hand out to her.
'Yes!' she says and hurriedly rises.
Shinya watches them move across the dancefloor, turns down one of the Shijin women and continues to watch them. Guren is rusty, his steps somewhat forced, and the expression on his face tells Shinya that his attempt to not enjoy himself is being interrupted by the effort it takes to dance properly. Everything he does is by the book. He holds Sayuri close, but he holds her roughly. He is not graceful as she is.
But she is smiling as though she's the princess of a fairy tale and he's the prince who has chosen her. For a moment, Shinya thinks that she seems brighter than Guren does. For a moment, Shinya could believe that she does come from a fairy tale.
He shakes his head, shakes that thought out of it. What? He tells himself. One dance, one night off and a few drinks and you can't keep your eyes off your best friend and his attendant?
You only want her because she's Guren's, a little voice chimes in. He must be sick because it's not his voice, it's hers: Mahiru's. His fiancée. Guren's demon. The woman he never loved, attached to the only man he ever has.
Alcohol is making him bitter, making him think of all the things he cannot allow to be true. He rises, tearing his eyes away from the couple on the dancefloor. He does not look for them again. He seeks out the heads of houses, smiles charmingly at women he has no interest in, engages in conversations that bore him even more. He is a good adopted son.
And when next he turns his eyes to the dancefloor, Guren has slipped away again and Sayuri stands alone to the side with a glass in her hand. He does not mean to approach her; something tells him that he shouldn't, that he'll only do something silly again, something he'll regret.
It takes one more glass of champagne while listening to Kureto talk about fishing. It takes one more glance in her direction. It takes one moment in which their eyes meet and Shinya notices that hers are sad, even if she smiles when she realises he is looking.
And his feet find her.
'Guren take off again?' he asks her.
'He said he'd be back in a minute,' she replies with a gentle sigh. 'At least he made it through the speeches this time.'
Shinya hums in response, tips back his glass and drains its contents. That done, he prises Sayuri's empty glass from her fingers and deposits them both on the tray of a passing waiter. He does not relinquish her hand.
He may have left the first dance for Guren, but he steals her last.
When the music finally stops, Shinya is hardly aware of it. Sayuri stops him with a hand on his arm. She is warm. Her eyes are smiling and so is he.
'Shinya, thank you,' she says again, as though somehow he has done her a service.
He shakes his head, waves a hand wildly. 'Why thank me now?' he says, the idea just occurring to him. 'The evening doesn't have to end because the music has.'
'Maybe I'd better walk you home.'
She tucks herself into his side, while he holds a hand over his mouth to quell his laughter. He doesn't need her assistance to walk. He isn't that drunk. He's just happy, truly, genuinely happy, in a way that he hasn't been in a long while, he thinks. But still, her proximity is nice. He loops an arm around her shoulder casually. She does not brush it away.
'Hey, Sayuri?' he begins, as the venue disappears behind them.
'Hm?' she says lightly. Her eyes sparkle as she throws him a look from the corner of her eye.
He smiles for a moment without saying anything, then turns his attention to the starry sky. 'We should do this more often,' he finally says.
She smiles. 'Yes,' she says, 'We should.'
When he wakes on her sofa the next morning, he is hungover and disgraced. Memories of refusing to sleep until she'd sat and drank a glass of water with him flood his mind. He remembers his gaze lingering on her lips as she'd spoken to him. He does not remember what they talked about. His head pounds and he wants nothing more than to bury his face into the couch cushions and remain there until day turns to night.
But when Sayuri rouses him by gently shaking his shoulder, calling his name with a softness he is unaccustomed to, he can't bring himself to regret it.
'So,' he says, rubbing his eyes with a smile so weak he's pretty sure it turns to a grimace. 'Good night?'
She smiles, handing him a cold glass of water. 'Yes, very good,' she says.
Something flutters in Shinya's stomach. For some reason, he doesn't think it's the hangover.
It is becoming something of a routine. An event is called. Shinya cajoles Guren into participating at least for a little while, only for Guren to slip away as soon as his attention is diverted, leaving Sayuri alone and abandoning Shinya to his fate.
He is no longer afraid she will reject him when he asks her to dance. He asks her with the kind of flourish he might give if he were wooing a princess. And she giggles and takes his hand with a little curtsy, without hesitation.
The way they fall into step seems only natural, and as they dance, Shinya thinks of nothing else. He stops noticing Kureto's disapproving stare, stops stealing glances at the door, stops searching for violet eyes in the crowd.
He starts to enjoy himself without feeling any guilt. He starts to wish the evenings would never end.
The first time Sayuri stays, he offers to walk her home.
She shakes her head. 'I am a retainer of the Ichinose house. I can handle myself.'
'I don't doubt that,' he says. 'But tonight, you're my guest.'
He takes her back to his rooms. She is the retainer of a lesser house, but he is the adopted son and it doesn't matter. Shinya doesn't care who sees.
The first time they have sex, Shinya doesn't quite know what he is doing. He wants to touch her and she wants to be touched. He wants to love her and she wants to be loved. But love isn't what they make. It is more like making affection. Making do.
When they wake the next morning, Sayuri is nestled in Shinya's arms like she belongs. But she doesn't. She belongs with Guren and so does he.
AN: Thanks for reading!
All comments are appreciated :)