Next up to bat for the unenviable task of training Magna is Grey! But will ballroom dancing be any more bearable than etiquette?
Probably, but it won't hurt the poor guy any less.
Magna was tripping over his own feet, unless he just tripped over Asta's. Wait, that's unless those were Grey's? Either which way, as he struggled to keep balanced to the strains of a waltz, the punk was entrenched in the torturous nightmare of lesson three: Ballroom dancing.
When it'd come time to discuss the dancing portion of training Magna, it was to everyone's surprise that Grey volunteered themselves as his instructor. It had turned out that the diffident mage knew everything there was to know about the subject, but, as should already be evident by the classless street punk's distress, there were problems at play here.
For starters, Grey couldn't bear to face anyone without transforming, so Magna was locking hands and matching steps with the spitting image of himself… and also Asta. Because it was obvious that three people could practice a dance that specifically required two— plus the runt'd volunteered as hard as his little heart could. Another complication was that it just so happened that the few dance techniques the greenhorn-nobleman knew didn't carry over to partner dancing in the slightest.
Magna tried going into the twirling step of the choreography, but his foot caught around Asta's ankle, and the yankee took a huge tumble prone onto the floor; landing flat on his face, and taking the whole dance class down with him… on top of him. The soon-to-be ambassador wheezed softly from the bottom of their pile, unable to see or breathe while his friends wriggled above.
With a quiet, yet somehow chipper groan from the stack's acme, Grey said, "Okay Asta, I think you should operate the music artifact for now. I need to run through this next part with Magna alone."
"Yessir, Grey Sir!!" Asta saluted with his usual vim from the center of the heap, before seemingly teleporting beside the musical magic device.
As the two other knights scraped themselves off the floor to dance again, Magna mumble-asked himself, "But if it's a partner dance, didn't you need to run through the whole thing with me alone?"
Asta figured out the mystical gramophone-doohickey while the shyest of the three dancers helped Magna into position; offering both hands to hold as they moved into the studio's center. One of her mitts traveled down to Magna's hip in time for the record to start up.
Music began to fill the air, the pair stepped in rhythm, and with a voice uncannily identical to their student's, Grey told the noble in training, "When taking the lead, you need to be gentle. Notice how I'm guiding you by your waist and hand."
"Mm hmm." Magna affirmed, if somewhat nervously; though he was still struggling to keep his footsteps in 3/4 time, Grey's hands were guiding his movements perfectly. They kept in rhythm with him, stepped back and forth—just barely not stomping each other's toes—then raised a hand above Magna to give him a little twirl.
The street punk might've been embarrassed if being led like this weren't so much fun.
He paid as close attention as possible to his teacher's legs while the orchestral music wafted peacefully through their makeshift studio. Falling into the rhythm, Magna couldn't believe how well the dance was going, with no bruised thighs, sprained ankles or flaming clothes on his part. And although he knew better than to not expect disaster, the hapless yankee couldn't help but smile.
This was fun.
Everything changed when the the third big dance move came up, and like was obvious to the man, Magna lost his footing and took a massive fall backwards… but didn't hit the ground. A blush spread across his face as he realized Grey had dipped him, their hand still supporting him by the waist.
He let out an adorable 'peep' while his instructor helped him back upright, the older mage smiling at their charge as he flushed a light shade of pink. "See, the waist is really important to keep hold of. You almost fell."
"Asta, please reset the music." Grey called while guiding their student's hand to their own hip. Chuckling softly with a curtsy, the transformation mage said to Magna, "Now, by your lead."
Taking care not to look too anxious, the manly man shouted, "I'll give it my all!" and started their choreography from the top— swaying softly to get into tempo.
He got stepped on while they started the footwork, but the timing wasn't off, and as the dance continued Magna only got better at each step. Grey was having a blast sharing their hobby with a squad mate she rarely hung out with, and thanked the stars it wasn't in their true form.
Both knights were laughing with glee until they reached the last move, where the transformation mage found themselves dipped in turn… just as their 'look like anyone but myself spell' wore off. Meaning the impossibly bashful Grey was face-to-face with Magna in their true form, and just froze up.
The two knights stayed together in the dip for longer than was comfortable—and in perfect silence—until Magna asked his meek friend, "Is this right?"
In response, they shrieked, "Don't look at me!" at approximately two decibels, and fell over like a frightened goat.
As Grey curled up into a tato-red ball on the lacquered wood floor, Asta threw a sheet over them.
"Th-thanks…" mumbled the lumpy beddressings with ample gratitude.
The peasant boys gave Grey a moment to snuggle deeper into the blanket before saying anything more. Crouching beside the blue haired mage as they shook like a hairless chihuahua in the Arctic circle with a fan blowing on it, Magna asked his instructor, "So… was that good? I think I'm getting the dip part, but you, uh, kinda shrieked." Then, feeling guilty, the man wondered aloud, "Wait, I didn't hurt you or nothin', did I?"
"Oh, n-no that was good. J-j-just run through it again with Asta, I'll join in when my m-mana comes back." Grey mumbled whilst backing the rest of the distance into the corner. With only one eye visible from under the blanket, they reactivated the waltz track and watched over the makeshift ballroom.
A thumbs-up from under the sheet filled Magna with relief, and he gave one right back to the cowering enby.
The younger dance students exhaled from the bottom of their lungs, matched steps into the center of the makeshift ballroom, and joined hands with a soft crunching sound.
"Asta! Don't crush my hand!" Magna howled, his face twitching as a twinge of pain shot up his arm.
"Heheh, sorry!" The shorter boy chuckled, truly abashed, "I always have to remind myself, 'Asta, this is a dance, not a bone-smashing handshake'!"
"Bitch, how could you possibly get those things confused?!"
Not avoiding the boot coming down toward his foot, Asta explained with a wince, "Well it's something Father Orsi had to tell me, so now I tell it to myself! Always trust dance advice if it comes from a man of the cloth. That's what the old people say!"
"Wait wait wait, you used to ballroom dance with a priest?" Magna asked while leading his shorter friend by the waist, a little perplexed by everything he's been saying.
Making sure to remind the hothead the next direction with a flick of his eyes, Asta replied, "Yeah! We didn't have many toys at the church, but Sister Lily could play the organ! And Father knew a couple dances from his time in the common realm!"
The punkish knight twirled his partner when Grey cued for them to, and while he spun, Magna signaled for the white haired boy to keep talking— squeaking softly as his feet got trodden on once again. "It was super fun when we put all the furniture in the corner and learned to dance! None of us got super amazing at it, but Yuno and I know how to waltz. It's why I was so excited to teach you!!"
"Huh, I guess you're just fulla' surprises, shortstack."
He almost dipped Asta correctly; it was picture perfect except for the part where their foreheads collided like crashing trains. Each boy whined with pain, but put on a face that screamed 'tada' for the teacher.
"Nice! You've got the first four steps down!" Grey cheered while casting aside the blanket that served as their cover; all confidence regained in the form of Finral.
"Woah, really?" Magna asked, "Hahaha, yeah! Go me—! Wait…" the man caught himself before getting too chipper, knowing there'd be a big catch if this lesson were anything like the previous two. "Four of how many steps?"
"Ten." Grey responded with a beam.
"Hey, that's not bad at all—"
"—In the first of seven dances!"
God dammit! Magna internally screamed.
The primary teacher strutted across the dance studio towards Magna with their head held high, gleefully shouting, "Don't worry, it'll be fun! We'll start from the dip, and run through to step eight and—"
Mid speech, 'poof' went their transformation; up in a tiny plume of smoke when the spell's mana ran out again. Grey's very next step managed to miss the floor, and they fell face flat in one giant, parabolic arc— shrieking the entire way down. They also managed to bowl their student over in the fall, hitting the taller man dead in his chest.
There was another loud wheeze.
In trying to stand up, the blue-haired mage found themselves face to face with Magna; eyes mere inches apart as Grey's blush grew. Her hands were bordering the spitfire's head and their lips quite nearly met, as they gazed silently into his pupils. The bashful woman was outright paralyzed.
"Grey…" their handsome student whispered, looking up at his teacher with a vermillion tint to his face.
"Um, uhh…"
"Get offa my damned ribs… I can't breathe…"