Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
An Azureshipping Fanfic.
Lockdown.
Chapter Sixteen.
The week had gone relatively smooth. And whatever minor hiccups that cropped up at work had been dealt with swiftly and cautiously.
Now free of the bleeding sling he'd been forced endure, Seto Kaiba, genius billionaire, and only three weeks shy of his seventeenth birthday, found himself bored beyond description.
Rika Aizawa, society matron and pampered beauty, had generously invited him to her most talked about soiree in Kyoto.
She was reputed to be a shrewd woman who fancied toying with the social lives of many. And who lavishly doted on her only grandson, the wild prince Takehito Nakai.
Rumors lurked Takehito was considering marriage, and it was heavily speculated there was a bevy of beauties as suitable candidates. Rika's hastily thrown together party was a tired scheme of viewing the flowers until the prettiest was plucked.
And because he was a man amused by foolish people, Seto was prepared to enjoy the show. He wasn't, however, prepared to see Anzu Mazaki twirling in some other man's arms.
The fact that she was dolled up like a high-priced escort didn't escape him, nor did the way she draped herself over the man like a silk scarf.
He felt a fierce desire to walk over there, rip her out of the man's arms, and tell her she was his.
But two things stopped him. One, he had no right, and two, acting the part of a jealous boyfriend would only confirm what his younger brother sang for three long days: he had a thing for Mazaki.
So when their eyes met, and her mouth blossomed into a beautiful smile, he reacted by scowling. And when she sashayed up to him in that slinky red dress, he pretended indifference.
"I betcha wondering why I'm here of all places." She did some kind of twirl and beamed at him.
"It crossed my mind."
"I'll tell you later." Anzu tilted her head. "You look amazing. Really sharp, but not too severe."
The charcoal suit he'd selected was marked by trim lines, clean and formal, with effortless sophistication and class. Vain, he was, and he accepted her compliment with the barest of nods.
He cast a critical eye over what he loosely called a dress. The neckline dipped into sexual harassment territory, held together by thin, sparkly straps that formed some kind of pretty collar. The ice pick thin heels brought her just below his chin, making her legs look longer, sexier.
"Where'd you get the outfit. Tramps R Us?"
Her face turned an interesting shade of red. "I didn't choose it, okay? It was required of me by my fashion-conscious mother." She rolled her eyes, showing disgust. "I feel like a piece of meat laid out for the wolves."
"A very apt description," he agreed. "So your parents are back?" He remembered her complaining about their lengthy absences during their stint in classroom lockdown.
"No. The dress was sent along with the shoes and invitation." Anzu felt a wave of depression and quickly squashed it. "Moving on. Since you've decided to stop ignoring me, how about a dance? Party etiquette demands it."
Seto stared down his nose at her. "Don't you already have a partner? That guy you were rubbing up against," he said when she looked blank.
"Oooh. Somebody's jealous. Why don't I rub up against you so you don't feel left out?" She dragged him amongst the swaying couples, the light bluesy music demanding romance. "Put your arms around me. And try not to scowl much."
He did only the first part. "Better than nothing," Anzu mumbled, let her head fall on his shoulder. "Loosen up. There's too much tension in your arms. That's better," she sighed, when she felt his muscles relax. "Having fun?"
"No."
Her laughter was muffled. "But you're a good dancer. Who would've guessed?"
Seto sighed, a bit impatiently to her ears, so she frowned up at him. "In a hurry?"
"No." But he continued to scowl.
Her mood ruined, Anzu started to say something when someone tapped her shoulder. The interloper's voice was a smooth, lazy drawl which managed to be both amused and bored.
"Mind if I cut in?"
Turning, she met the striking gray-green eyes of Takehito Nakai. The wild prince, with silky black hair and coffee-light skin, in his impeccable virgin-white suit and blood-red tie.
He extended his hand, the gesture so proper, so elegant, she could only gape.
"What are you—?"
"Excuse me." Kaiba said crisply, then turned to leave. Sensing his anger, Anzu reached for his arm, took the chilling blast of his glare. He was definitely pissed. "Let go."
She did, only because his temper seemed to be bubbling dangerously close to the surface. And she felt ridiculously overjoyed because of it.
"How long do you intend on keeping me waiting? Dance with me, Anzu."
"Takehito—"
Unable to look on, Seto cursed under his breath and marched away, knowing Mazaki would be in Takehito Nakai's arms quickly enough.
The next time he saw her, she was outside, obviously entranced by the flourishing garden. And in no mood for conversation, Seto started to retreat.
"Kaiba? Hey, Kaiba, wait! Don't go."
Annoyed, embarrassed, he growled. "Why shouldn't I?"
"Because I don't want to be alone." The tears in her voice did more than make him turn around. It made his stomach tighten.
She'd been weeping. Her eyes were shiny and sad and red. Her mouth trembled when she sucked in a breath.
"You don't have to say anything. Just stand there. Please?"
Sighing, he went to the railing, kept a decent distance between them, and stared hard at the flowering frangipani.
"This has to do with Nakai?" Seto inquired after a lengthy silence. And the way her shoulders jerked made him curse under his breath. "Did he…?"
"No. Not what you're thinking, no." She gave a short laugh. "It's really silly. He asked me to marry him."
It took a beat, maybe two for him to process that bit of information. Then, he said, deceptively calm, "Congratulations."
"I didn't say yes," Anzu shot back, glad she could get angry. "I'm seventeen. I'm not looking to get hitched. God! What's worse is it's an arranged marriage. And he's going along with it because there's supposedly a deadline."
She paused for a breath because her head was spinning and she was damn near close to tears. "Apparently both our parents thought it was a grand idea — his words, by the way — and he supported their decision since we're somehow compatible. I don't even know what that means."
Despite the heaviness of the topic, Seto found himself interested. "Rika Aizawa has a select few in her social circle. She must have had a high opinion of your parents if she's willing to give away her beloved grandson."
"Takehito's dad and mine attended the same college." Anzu told him miserably. "They must've bonded over sports and other crap. Of course, my dad is also one of them."
"One of them?" Seto repeated.
"You know, comes from a moneyed background. Privileged." She sighed now. "My mom's the same. Strange, isn't it? That I have to work to pay for dance classes when my parents are loaded. Pride is a double edged sword."
"Then what will you do?" He found himself wanting to know.
"Talk to them, duh. And failing to reason, I'll join the Japanese circus."
"The solution to everything."
Anzu discovered she could smile. "What, you saying I'm not good enough to make the cut?"
"Not at all. I can see you fitting in nicely between the bearded lady and the freakish contortionist."
"That wasn't a compliment," she grumbled, then decided she was feeling much better. "Kaiba, do you know why I want to be a ballerina?"
"Something tells me I'm about to find out."
"I had a nanny the year after I was born. My mother decided she was too young to raise a child, so she tossed me to Nadya Nicholevna. Russian, taciturn, and strict. I feared her," Anzu smiled fondly. "And I wanted to be her. She was a prima ballerina absolutta. I didn't know what this meant, but when she danced, she was like a fairy."
Brushing back her hair, Anzu relived those beautiful and difficult memories. "The first day I danced, my body ached so much afterwards. I cried, wouldn't stop crying. I wanted to please Nadya, but more, I wanted my parents' acknowledgement. So I danced. I pushed myself and pushed until my sloppy steps became polished and precise. But it wasn't enough."
She glanced over at Kaiba, knew she had his attention, and it lifted her spirits. "Nadya pulled me aside one day. Do you know what she said? She told me I had no passion. And for a ballerina passion was like breath. She compared me to a young Anna Pavlova, who lacked the technicality which I possessed, but made up with overflowing passion. I was more determined now."
"I watched everything Pavlova," Anzu continued. "and I copied her passion. Nadya scolded me. She said I danced with my head, not my heart. And from the heart is where true passion is born. You can imagine the way I felt. I was twelve, confused, and my idol was disappointed in me. I locked myself in my room. Nadya came by once, but only to tell me I was banned from her stage. I felt broken inside. I wanted to dance, needed to. And that's when it hit me. I was selfish; I wanted praise. A true dancer dances because she loves it. Nadya saw that I didn't. I begged her to give me another shot, to show her that I did indeed love the craft. And I did. I wasn't the selfish child anymore. I'd come to treasure every moment, every movement. It became a part of my soul.
"She died a few years ago, Nadya. Ovarian cancer," Anzu whispered softly. "I didn't know she was sick. She was so solid. I remember she told me before she passed, "Anzu," she said in that thick Russian accent. "You stubborn girl. You dance with heart, now. You make me proud. Whatever you do, in dance or in life, do it for yourself." I enrolled into a good dance school, but as you know, my parents refused to pay the way. So I got a job. I'm glad I did, now that I think about it. That pride thing again. I was determined to live by Nadya's words."
Seto saw the fierceness in her eyes, heard it translate into her voice, and he applauded her for it.
"So this long, drawn out story is your clever way of saying why you won't marry Nakai." He observed. "Wanting to live for your own happiness, is it? Going against mommy's and daddy's wishes. Sounds selfish."
"It does." Anzu agreed. She lifted her chin to a stubborn angle. "I'm never letting anyone play dictator in my life. Someday I'll dance in a big company, I'll see the world and enjoy its cultures. That's what I want. You think I can't do it?"
"I never said so." Seto slipped his hands into his pockets. "I actually want to see it. See you dance."
"Really?" Her face brightened. "Wow. That's sweet of you." She laughed when he rolled his eyes. "You know, you still owe me a dance from earlier."
"I don't think so." He sidestepped her to escape.
"Kaiba." Her tone was very chilling. "You're not ditching. Everyone's inside drinking booze and fawning over Rika and Takehito. We won't be interrupted." She threw her arms around his neck. "What do you say?"
He pretended to be appalled by the idea, then with a heavy sigh, he said, "Fine. Let's get this over with."
They moved fluidly — like lovers, Anzu thought, connected somewhere deeper, more real than just the physical. When he moved, she followed. Their steps perfectly in tune, their hearts beating as one.
She danced with many partners, in many performances. They couldn't compete. With Kaiba she could let herself drift, think of nothing but the dance and the joy of it.
"Hmm. Nice." Anzu snuggled in, her nose bumping his neck. "Too tall," she complained. "Dancers aren't tall."
"I'm not a dancer." She heard him say, and smiled.
"You could be. You move like water. Relaxed and smooth, then intense and overpowering."
"Wonderful."
"It is!" She insisted, leaned away to look into those dark eyes. And they were intense and overpowering just like the rest of him. "You're wonderful, Kaiba."
Her eyes had gone dreamy, and her lips were curved in an exquisite smile. Happy, he thought, she looked so happy. The tears, the lingering sadness had gone, and she was stunning.
And okay, I admit it, I like Mazaki. Her smile widened as if she knew his thoughts. Yeah, I really do like her.
Then, watching those dreamy eyes, he leaned down to capture those exquisite lips.
A word from ladydolce:
Glad I'm finished with this chapter. Going to take a break now. See you next month. And thanks for reading. Please send me a review.