First off, I would like to thank, Dreaming in Azure, for giving me a lot of helpful pointers. And thank you YLCourt for the review! Glad, it's hilarious! Thanks for the favs and follows!

An important note: Changed the way Akemi addresses Sanada and Atobe. Genichiro-kun to Genichiro-san and Keigo-kun to Keigo-san. Just downplaying their relationships with one another. Also, I'll be using 'noirette' which is an unofficial noun for someone with black hair from now on.

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Voices of Spring'.

Outside, the rain thundering down the atmosphere was nothing but a low hum compared to her wildly beating heart.

"We dance."

Akemi could only stare speechlessly at him; unable – no, refused – to comprehend those two words that came out from his mouth.

Badump. Badump

Atobe regarded her petrified form pensively.

BadumpBadumpBadump

The faint rosy hue that almost normally graced her cheeks was absent, making her appear alarmingly paler than usual. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead, and the hand in his grasp felt slightly clammy. Her eyes were so wide, the Hyotei Captain could read the silent urge of her mind screaming at her legs to move. But her rebellious minions of neurons refused to act on the command – suddenly finding the task of transmitting electrical impulses through the nervous system rather daunting.

Badumpbadumpbadumpbadump

That look on her face…

…it's like he'd casually asked her to jump off a cliff without a parachute.

The corner of her lips began to twitch with the slightest movement – a sign of her subconscious mind was gradually recovering from the shock.

"Wh-why?" Akemi spluttered, knitting her eyebrows into a frown.

"The conditions have been clarified," Atobe annunciated every syllable perfectly as though she couldn't understand him. "Do you want this pestering stopped?"

The noirette bobbed her head jerkily.

"Then, we shall dance."

She shook her head frantically; heart beating erratically beneath her chest.

"Well, you're not getting away from it scot-free, missy," he growled angrily, jabbing a finger in front of her face. "This is also punishment for causing unnecessary troubles for ore-sama! An eye for an eye – either we dance or you tell!"

'No way! I just can't!' She chewed on her bottom lip, gazing pleadingly at him.

But his resolve remained firm.

Brown eyes flickered about the ballroom for a few moments before it landed on something particular behind him.

Akemi gasped in horror, prompting him to glance over his shoulder with a startled expression.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…

…until Beat started barking madly.

That's when he realised his hand was grasping nothing but air, and Akemi was fleeing back towards the stairs where they came as fast as her legs could carry her.

'A trick?'

Atobe smirked derisively, raising his hand high above his head as he'd done so many times before.

'It's time to stop running away, Akemi.'

He brought his thumb and middle finger together –

SNAP

Like a gunshot fired into the air, the clear sound resonated within the walls of the ballroom.

Akemi halted abruptly (much to her puzzlement) at the bottom of the stairs just as a troop of sharply-dressed men came swarming from all four corners to block every escape route. She staggered back a few paces, taken aback by the sudden appearance of Atobe's security personnel standing between her and freedom.

SNAP

The usually happy-go-lucky Beat had her backpedalling several good feet away from the human barricade; his teeth barred with a threatening growl as though daring her to do otherwise.

"There's no escaping ore-sama's home," Atobe informed smugly; arms folded neatly behind his back as he calmly strode towards her. "It's a well-fortified castle. Don't do anything silly," he briskly added after catching her snuck a glance at the windows. "Those windows are robust, and not to mention, bulletproof. Not even a herd of rampaging elephants can burst through."

'Please, tell me you didn't actually crash-test using real elephants,' thought Akemi as a pair of black Oxford shoes clicked to a neat stop.

Atobe arched his back forward slightly to scratch Beat behind an ear. The hound instantly snapped back to its docile nature in a shocking 180˚ change; panting and wagging his tail appreciatingly. At his master's command, Beat obediently retreated to the grand piano sitting in one corner of the ballroom.

Turning to Akemi, the Hyotei Captain smirked. She was glowering murderously at him with eyes narrowed and jawlines firmly set. The noirette's evidently irked and silently plotting his demise.

"Let's negotiate," she proposed tersely, gritting her teeth. "Why don't I bake something for you instead? Victorian sponge? Lemon drizzle? Black Forest? Caramel brownies straight from the oven are simply the best. Have I ever –"

"The chefs can produce them anytime ore-sama want," he cut off the incessant prattle about cakes, waving one hand dismissively. It was making him peckish, and he had a scrumptious meal not long ago.

"I can clean your room," she huffed, crossing her arms defiantly.

"There are plenty of maids around." He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head at her with a quizzical expression. "What? Planning to steal everyone's jobs?"

"O-of course not!" she retorted heatedly, though looking slightly sheepish. "I'm just offering an alternate solution that's fair and square!"

Atobe shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "A dance sounds fair."

"For you perhaps," she bristled, balling her hands into fists.

"But why are you so against it?"

"Because I –" she stiffened; the rest of her words abruptly died on her lips.

"Because?" he prodded; genuinely puzzled.

Akemi hesitated; eyes flicking nervously back and forth him several times before lowering them to the ground with a long sigh.

He didn't seem willing to back down anytime soon, and there's no way out from this forsaken ballroom.

But what could she possibly say?

It's downright humiliating, and she had enough of it from Niou yesterday after demonstrating her remarkable skills at trampling people's feet. She had warned them though…

"I'm terrible at dancing!" she had admitted to the regulars during yesterday's rehearsal. "A boy partnered up with me and he couldn't walk properly for days!"

"When was that?" Yanagi asked, scribbling in his notebook.

"About four years ago," she narrowed her eyes threateningly at him – it was effective.

"Have you ever danced since?" Yukimura piped up.

There was a pregnant pause.

"…no…"

"Wouldn't you like to find out if you're still as…ah…terrible…as you've put it?" Yukimura smiled brightly, gesturing at a rather disconcerted Niou.

Regrettably, she fell right into that shrewd captain's trap. Though it's partly (couldn't stress this enough) her fault for caving in to curiosity. After the Niou-Akemi combo failed splendidly, Yagyuu had stepped up with an offer to teach her the basics. But even he didn't escape the battleground unscathed.

Akemi briefly glanced at the Hyotei Captain who was patiently waiting for a response. Considering his complicated background, all those social events he'd been throughout his life, he's undoubtedly in a league of his own compared to her.

But it wasn't just the embarrassment of disclosing her non-existent talent for dancing (as the Trickster had so straightforwardly put it) that troubled her.

The dreaded D evoked one too many bad memories of her childhood. Four years ago in the height of a bitterly cold winter, Akemi remembered that day vividly…

…the pure, unadulterated hatred on the boy's face as he nursed his bruised toes…

…the tiringly long lecture from the unsympathetic dance teacher as she shrieked mercilessly on top of her lungs…

…the stares from her other classmates (such an epitome of Bystander Effect)…

…and the hot tears streaming down her face when she was back home alone.

"It's more complicated than 'I can't dance'." – was what she wanted to say, but she couldn't bring herself to.

Two hands grasped her shoulders and gave them a light squeeze, snapping her out of the stupor.

Akemi picked up her head.

"Ore-sama's not going to pass judgement if that's what you're worrying about," Atobe asserted firmly, staring intently into her eyes. He'd seen the little of the pain clinging to the delicate tendrils of fibres before it waned away to be replaced by shock the moment the noirette realised her guard slipped.

Akemi broke off the eye contact, dropping her gaze to the floor once more. 'He's going to laugh.' She clenched the hem of her skirt tightly. 'Don't say it.'

But she needed to atone for the troubles she caused like he'd said. Perhaps if she admitted it, he'd let it slide?

"I can't dance," she blurted.

"We can start from the basics and work our way from there."

He didn't sound surprised, or close to breaking out in fits of laughter as she'd expected. Regardless…nothing could stop that tiny speck of hope from shattering to dusts.

"No," Atobe sternly admonished when she shook her head. "Be optimistic! If you strongly believe you can do it – you can."

"But I can't."

"Can," he amended evenly. What happened to that tenacity of hers?

"Can't."

Right, it's being used for wiggling out of this.

"Can."

"Can't."

"Can."

Brown eyes ablaze with fury snapped up to meet the dark blue ones.

"I can't do it, okay? Get it in that thick head of yours!"

He glared back with just as much malice; patience's trickling past its limit.

"Can, idiot! Give it a try before you shoot it down!"

As the thunderstorm gradually weakened to light showers outside the manor, shouts of can's, can'ts and various other colourful insults reverberated in the ballroom. Beat resting by the foot of the grand piano looked on with disinterest. The security personnel remained on guard; their faces impassive, but inwardly astounded by the fiery passion emanating from the heart of the room where the two high school students were at each other's throat.

"I can't –"

"Damn it, Akemi!" Atobe yelled, stunning the noirette into silence by the sheer volume of his voice. His grip on her shoulders tightened several notches, but not enough to hurt her. "Doesn't the play mean anything to you?"

Akemi scowled deeply.

The play?

The one she volunteered to write for the club's play, received weird looks during club activities and gotten into trouble numerous times for daydreaming in class when she's actually brainstorming ideas, neglected tonnes of chores and schoolwork to spend hours working industriously on the draft…only for Yukimura to add an additional (pointless) scene?

That play?

Oh, it bloody mattered to her.

That familiar stormy expression; Atobe felt encouraged and pressed on. "The waltz is just as important as every other parts of the play right?"

A mistake he realised only too late; he accidentally lost his grip on the reel handle. Whatever fighting spirit he managed to draw, plummeted back into the tumultuous sea of self-deprecation as the weight of doubt dragged it back to the murky depths.

One look at that dejected expression, and they're back at square one.

But, Atobe's not one for losing his catch – not if he could help it.

Her head was tilted upwards and Akemi found herself staring into a pair of dark blue eyes.

"Consider this," Atobe started, removing his hand from her chin and returning it to its place on her shoulder. "Think of the play as a match and you're up against an opponent. But your lack of confidence in your ability ultimately leads your team to utter defeat. Perhaps if you have pushed yourself and worked even harder, the team might have stood a chance to win. And even if you were defeated, you lost with grace because you gave it your all. But because you didn't, the guilt weights you down and you can't even bear to look at your team mates' faces anymore."

He paused to regard her grimly; his unwavering voice steeped with assuredness working its way into Akemi.

"As manageress, you're not in the spotlight during the match. But because you are the manageress, you're just as important as the other members in the tennis club." He squeezed her shoulders and leaned forward slightly; a familiar musky scent flooded her senses. "You make up the team too. Even if it means stepping out of your comfort zones, show endless support and it'll work wonders for them and yourself. Trust ore-sama."

Akemi pondered over it.

Teamwork

She'd heard the importance of being a team player stressed repetitively. Had she ever viewed the club as a team?

A club existed to gather together individuals from different backgrounds who share the same passion and goal. Everyone progressed individually at different rates. That's a given. Fierce competition always remained in their hearts and minds. She'd seen it played out before her eyes more than she could count to believe it's true. Yet, they selflessly supported one another to their best efforts – be it cheering, advising, or winning a match – and gets a fair share of contributing to the team and receiving something in return.

It's a simple, but remarkable system.

Perhaps...

She clutched her hands together.

...it's her turn to give back as gratitude for bearing with this foolish manageress and their hard work.

The noirette regarded the self-acclaimed King standing proudly before her. The little she gleaned from his little speech and facial expression, the Hyotei Captain spoke from experiences through years of strife. The way he's painted by the sports media, admirers and rivals, including Sanada, all those praises, admirations, triumphs and talents were the fruits of his diligence, dogged persistence and self-belief.

A ghost of a smirk tugged at her lips. His words struck a deep chord in her.

Atobe stepped back a couple of paces, letting his hands fall from her shoulders.

As he gazed sternly at her, Akemi's starting to understand why he had a ridiculously large army of avid followers. He had a compelling way with words.

"That play is important to you?" he asked.

She nodded; if she botched up just one scene, the whole play's a fiasco. End of story.

"Do you want everything to run smoothly and gain a grand applause – a standing ovation – from the audiences?"

Standing ovation seemed rather far-fetched. But she could only blame herself for wasting not only her time and effort, but also everyone else's in the club if she ruined everything. Also, what happened four years ago and yesterday was the past. If she's unable to put it behind for good, she'd never attain what she desired.

Besides...

Atobe extended his hand towards her. "Can you dance?"

"I can," Akemi replied with a determined smile, placing her hand in his.

...somebody's here to guide her.

XXX

Rays of sunshine burst through the clouds. Now that the worst of the thunderstorm weakened considerably to a drizzle, the ornate fountain out in the courtyard was visible through the windows of the ballroom.

The guards had (finally) returned to their stations on the Young Master's command a while ago. Beat was curiously watching Michael set up the Bluetooth connection between Atobe's laptop and the speakers acoustically arranged around the ballroom. According to the butler, the symphony orchestra usually hired for social occasions was unfortunately booked for an event.

Akemi could only thank the heavens as they stood apart, facing each other in the heart of the ballroom. This was only a lesson, not a formal social event.

However, one problem (or was it two) remained.

"Umm…I'm not sure about this at all, Keigo-san," Akemi scuffed her big tone on the pristine floor nervously.

"It'll be fine," Atobe dismissed her worry nonchalantly, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. "We've taken off our shoes."

Aside from freezing her toes off on the stone cold floor, being barefoot was the least of her concerns.

"But wouldn't it be easier if I do it on my own?"

Atobe had suggested going through the 'dance walk' exercise, which involved no actual dancing, but just moving in a straight line while emulating the dip and rise of a waltz. Well, at least they're not re-enacting Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks sketch.

"Nonsense," he disagreed obstinately, glaring disapprovingly at her ridiculous suggestion. "Ore-sama won't know what the problem is if we don't do this." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you still want to learn how to dance?"

"…yes," she begrudgingly relented with a grunt.

Why couldn't she shake off the feeling she's missing something important here?

"Good." He unfolded his arms from his chest and stepped forward.

Akemi took this cue and gingerly placed her right hand in his left, but before he could position his other hand on her back, she instinctively leaped away from a perplexed Atobe.

"What!?" he demanded vehemently.

If anything, he looked extremely affronted and not at all amused.

"Y-you're not going to do anything funny…right?" she eyed him suspiciously, arms hovering over her chest in a protective gesture.

Oh.

His cheeks flushed, but faded away just as quickly, making Akemi wonder if she'd imagined it.

Sighing exasperatedly, Atobe raked a hand down his face. "Look. That was an accident which ore-sama have already apologised for. Drop it okay?"

After a moment of deliberation, she cautiously crept forward looking slightly unconvinced and placed herself in the correct position. Akemi tried not to squirm in discomfort, feeling increasingly self-conscious of the proximity of their bodies and the warm hand coming to rest on her shoulder blade.

"Trust is important, Akemi," the Hyotei Captain stated, adjusting her right hand so it was resting properly in his. "If you can't trust your dance partner, it will never work out no matter how professional you are."

He trusted her? Hmm…she could trust him too. He's a pro after all. But could she trust herself not to –

"Concentrate," he chided.

She steeled herself; her heart starting to thump excitedly with anticipation.

"Too tense!"

"Oops, sorry," Akemi chuckled sheepishly, releasing the crushing hold around his left hand.

He threw one last warning look. "Ore-sama's going to move forward…"

XXX

Nerves were the biggest problem she needed to overcome from the start. Her posture was incredibly stiff, she hesitated too much, and her feet kept finding its way on top of Atobe's as though there's a strong magnetic attraction.

A few winces, some muttered apologies and a couple of curses later, she stumbled less frequently across the imaginary line and her feet stopped drifting sideways on their own (much to Atobe's relief). Half an hour later, they moved on to the techniques, starting with the box steps.

If he was going to teach her how to dance, he might as well do it properly. He ran her through the various steps, turns and the alarmingly fast pace of Viennese Waltz. It was easier than explaining each technique as he had discovered earlier; she struggled to get her head around them with visualising alone. Well, considering she's a newbie, it was understandable. He didn't push her straight to the advanced level, and took things slowly.

Despite all those precautions, Akemi felt so sick they had to stop for five minutes during the first few attempts. Slowly though, and with a bit more practice, she pretty much got the hang of it. Her footwork was less messy and she no longer wore that constipated look whenever her nerves acted up again.

But as Atobe teasingly informed her, she was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay beyond reaching his level of expertise.

Akemi could only roll her eyes exasperatedly and shrugged it off.

XXX

About an hour had passed by the time Atobe called for a short break.

A small round table and a couple of chairs were promptly set up beside the grand piano, and Michael brought the tea and biscuits over from the kitchen.

Tea and biscuits…

Best combination after a gruelling dance session. Biscuits never tasted better in her mouth.

As Akemi savoured the warm sensation of the teacup between her hands, the strange gut feeling she's overlooking something returned to torment her. She quickly banished it aside. This was a well-earned break, and she's going to enjoy it. No nagging sensation at the back corner of her mind would ruin this moment.

She cast a pensive glance across the table where the Hyotei Captain was engrossed in checking his emails on the laptop. His level of patience still surprised her. Sure, there was the occasional exasperated comment or two (sadly reasonable), but he never gave up and encouraged her all through the lesson.

'Well,' Akemi pondered, stirring her tea absently with the teaspoon, 'for someone who's leading a large club with more than 200 members it shouldn't be surprising. But he's really good at coaching, even for something that's not tennis related. He picked out many mistakes Yagyuu-san didn't notice and –'

"Oi – is there something on ore-sama's face?" a masculine voice broke into her thoughts.

"Eh?" Akemi jerked slightly in her seat.

Atobe was gazing at her with one perfectly arched eyebrow. Realising she had been openly staring at him for goodness-know-how-long, she muttered a sheepish apology, scratching her chin.

His eyes glinted mischievously; ready to leap into another round of teasing.

Suddenly, Akemi was hit by a revelation. That gut feeling…it (somehow) made sense now.

"How did you know about the waltz?" she blurted before he could say anything.

"Ah?" His mouth was wide opened in the midst of forming the first word, but the question caught him off guard, and it ended up as a simple 'ah'.

Akemi once told him their club's setting up a play for the school festival before the whole shunning business occurred.

But…

The teacup was sharply set on its saucer with a clink. "The whole play is strictly confidential to everyone outside our tennis club. Yukimura-san is still working on the poster art so the synopsis shouldn't be known to anyone. Even then, the synopsis doesn't mention anything about a waltz." She regarded him suspiciously; a formidable dark aura surrounding her form. "Yet, you of all people seemed to know about its existence in the script."

"Err…" Atobe floundered, suddenly finding the skirting board very interesting indeed.

Brown eyes narrowed dangerously; the dignified Young Master looked quite uneasy tugging his collar for no apparent reason.

"Keigo-san."

'Damn. Too optimistic to think she's forgotten about it with all the fuss about this waltz lesson.' He furtively glanced at the stormy expression on her face, and knew right then, he's never getting away with it. But it's not like he's going to get into serious trouble right? It was Oshitari. He, who received a special request from Yukimura, told him everything in that blasted letter.

"Heard it through the grapevine."

In the end, he couldn't bring himself to sell his friend no matter how aggravating that bespectacled scum-of-the-Earth was.

"What?" Akemi frowned; unsure of what he'd grumbled under his breath.

"Heard it through the grapevine!"

"If it takes two to waltz, it takes two and more to spread words around," she glared darkly at him; hands on her hips with an air of a mother telling her son off for doodling all over the walls. "Now, either you tell me what's going on or I'll –"

Atobe hastily stood up from his chair as though electrocuted by the furniture, startling Akemi who was swiftly plucked out from her seat by the hook of her arm and dragged away from the table.

"H-hang on a sec –"

"Let's dance! No time to waste!"

"But I want to know –"

"Music! Michael! Put the playlist, 'Waltz King' on!" he shouted over her protests, pulling her into the closed position.

Akemi raised an incredulous eyebrow at the choice of words. "Waltz King?" she couldn't help but ask.

The speakers around them suddenly blared to life, filling the ballroom with a grand opening tune which was quickly followed by a free-spirited melody.

"Do you not know from music class?" Atobe asked as he started a simple box step around the ballroom. "Johann Strauss the second is the famous composer who wrote many dance music during the Romance Period. His popularising of Viennese Waltz through his music earned him the nickname 'the Waltz King'."

Akemi bit back a chuckle as she followed his lead. 'He sure likes anything as long as it's associated with royalty.'

"What?" he demanded; affronted.

"Nothing," she shook her head amusingly. "This song – I've heard it before, but I can't remember the name." Obviously changing the subject.

"Frühlingsstimmen – 'Voices of Spring'," he translated through gritted teeth; so not amused by her attempt.

"But it is September," she aptly pointed out.

Atobe told himself it's no point arguing with her. It'd be a great waste of breath and sanity.

Anyway, at least he had successfully diverted a terrible disaster.

XXX

The two continued to dance through the evening with more music from the 'Waltz King'.

Akemi was unable to tell fear and excitement apart anymore. Perhaps it's a good mixture of both?

Bah, who cared anymore?

She was enjoying every moment, because –

'I can dance! I can really dance!'

She couldn't believe it at first. But this wasn't a dream either. She pinched her cheeks really hard after an alarmed Atobe repetitively refused to slap her.

Atobe cast a pensive look at the blissfully oblivious noirette and beheld that large grin on her face. His dark blue eyes glazed over, remembering that look she wore earlier. It puzzled and unsettled the heir apparent at the same time. Should he pretend he didn't see it?

He mentally shook his head after a moment of deliberation.

Another day; he told himself.

The storm had passed, and the sea's calm and gentle.

Anyway…

He snuck a glance at her and felt a smirk tugging at his lips.

'Does she know how stupid she looks grinning like that?' he chuckled, soaking in the mirth-filled atmosphere.

Pure coincidence or a stroke of luck, he couldn't help but find the song rather fitting.

Frühlingsstimmen

One of the most famous pieces composed by Johann Strauss, the waltz wasn't well received when it debuted as a concert aria, only gaining momentous popularity in Russia later on before spreading to rest of the music world beyond Vienna through his piano arrangement. Celebrating spring in all its grandeur, the lyrics and music complemented each other beautifully all the way through to the finale.

But it's the lyrics that made him appreciate the funny aspects of coincidences.

He twirled her around on the spot, earning a chorus of giggles from the thrilled noirette as he mentally recited the words*.

Die Lerche in blaue Höh entschwebt,
der Tauwind weht so lau;
sein wonniger milder Hauch belebt
und küßt das Feld, die Au.
Der Frühling in holder Pracht erwacht,
ah alle Pein zu End mag sein,
alles Leid, entflohn ist es weit!
Schmerz wird milder, frohe Bilder,
Glaub an Glück kehrt zuruck;
Sonnenschein, ah dringt nun ein,
ah, alles lacht, ach, ach, erwacht!

XXX

Mrs Atobe leaned against the column.

'To think I rushed all the way from Narita Airport instead of heading straight to the office for this after receiving the distress call.'

A weary sigh escaped through her parted lips, forming a mist on the screen of her phone.

'Anna…she's been working her arms and legs off since coming here. I'll grant her a short holiday.'

Slowly, a smile began to form behind her phone as the sounds of youthful laughter continued to ring throughout the ballroom.

'But you know…' she peered from behind the column; her blue eyes glinting in the chandeliers' light with a kind of thrill she couldn't describe. '…maybe I should give her the whole year off instead and add a raise because...'

It took a lot of effort to resist the temptation to squeal.

'They're just too adorable! Oooh! I can't wait to send it hubby! Or should I keep it to myself? Ah, forget it.'

Phone poised before her, the ecstatic Lady of the house snapped away to her heart's content; blissfully oblivious to the couple cavorting about in the heart of the ballroom.

XXX

(Outside Tokyo Station…6:12pm)

"Thanks for today, Keigo-san. It was fun," Akemi beamed happily; her shopping bags back in her grasps once more. "You're a great teacher."

"Humph! That goes without saying," Atobe smirked haughtily; his inner ego basking in the light of her praise. Then, with a teasing look, he added, "You'll be fine from here?"

"Of course," she glared at him; affronted. "I've been to Tokyo Station enough to find my way around the place."

"Don't get on the wrong platform," he grinned toothily; eyes glinting mischievously in the streetlights. "See you." He turned around and calmly strolled back towards the waiting car, waving a flimsy piece of paper above his head. "And thanks for the ticket!"

Wait for it…

"I read the signs!" she shouted, earning weird looks from the bemused passers-by around her.

"From the last time you took a train – clearly not careful enough!" he shouted back without a backward glance.

Akemi glowered menacingly at the sniggering fool effortlessly climbing into the car before the Chauffeur shut the door. Sighing in frustration, she spun on her heels and headed for the entrance. Her feet faltered to a stop before the steps leading to the entrance hall. She glanced over her shoulders, just in time to see the distinctive black saloon car drove away from the drop-off point to the exit.

A small smile tugged at her lips. Her features visibly relaxed as the lingering smell of rain in the air drifted to her nose.

Humming a random waltz, the noirette turned around and stepped into the entrance hall.

She had a good feeling about the week ahead.

XXX

(Monday at the Sanada residence)

A strange feeling came over the vice-captain.

Even after a hot bath, his shoulders felt oddly heavy as though his nephew had tied dumbbells onto them. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, nor did it ever happen in the past. But for the sake of his sanity, Sasuke better not try something like that.

Sanada stared at the wooden gate contemplatively; a deep frown on his forehead. He rolled his shoulders.

Something's not right.

He took a long, steadying breath, slid the gate opened and was greeted by a rather terrifying sight.

"Good morning, Genichiro-san!" Akemi greeted cheerfully; lips stretched out in a wide grin and cheeks slightly flushed. There's a strange bright aura around her.

Thud

He didn't mean to shut the gate in her face. But…he could always say his hand slipped right?

"That's fine! Things like that happen all the time!" she dismissed his worries, waving her hand animatedly as they headed down to school together.

Sanada snuck a look of uneasiness at his neighbour who was humming an upbeat tune unfamiliar to his ears.

Something's definitely not right here.

XXX

After being threatened by the vice-captain last week, everyone reluctantly turned up at the tennis courts in full force. A gloomy atmosphere hung over their heads as the training menu was read out when they recalled the brutality of their merciless manageress.

The regulars, however, were rather optimistic after receiving a 'thumbs up' from Oshitari (who received a long-winded angry text from a certain captain) via email.

When practice commenced, the esteemed tennis players wondered if the bespectacled tensai of Hyotei sent the wrong email by mistake and...

"You're doing great, guys! Keep going!" a feminine voice rang out from afar.

...if the high-spirited manageress supervising the warm-up exercises was an impostor.

It didn't make sense.

Had they done something wrong?

Upset the natural order of the universe?

The change was just too extreme; from a cold-hearted girl dishing out brutal punishments on a whim to a cheerful one handing out bottles of water with a large grin. Needless to say, the disturbing image terrified the innocent and young hearts of the club members.

Still, there're some people who saw the silver lining in the midst of the confusion.

"This isn't bad at all," a well-chuffed Yukimura commented as he observed the ongoing training; arms cross over his chest and a smile on his face. "Everyone's vigorously working hard."

"If she keeps this up, efficiency and progress will increase exponentially," Yanagi agreed, scribbling in his databook.

XXX

But, all good things must come to an end.

For the noirette, it arrived like a drop of a bomb during rehearsal.

"Eh? We're not going to do the waltz anymore?" Akemi stared at the Rikkai Captain in complete disbelief as though he had sprouted extra heads one on top of the other. "Why?"

Yukimura chuckled sheepishly. "Well, for one thing…"

"Niou! Get off the desk NOW!" Sanada hollered, but the Trickster refused to budge from his safe haven.

"Please, Niou-kun! You're making a scene!" Yagyuu fretted.

"No! I've had enough of getting my feet crushed by that elephant!"

Her fingernails dug into the scriptbook.

Why was this happening? She danced perfectly (as a newbie could) with Atobe last Saturday. Sure the Hyotei Captain suffered a few crushed toes earlier on, but they danced without further hitches after going through the steps thoroughly over and over again.

Yet, when it was the Niou-Akemi combo, disaster reverted. What was she missing here?

Okay. Maybe she was being a little bit overenthusiastic. After all, Akemi'd been looking forward to this faithful day, she even went as far as watching endless tutorials on the internet yesterday. She left home this morning with an optimistic feel gushing through her veins, certain it would turn…

…out…

…well…

…well…

…

…

That's what she'd thought.

"I'm telling you, she's doing it on purpose!" the Trickster continued to shriek. "She's trying to kill me!"

Much to her audience's amazement, Niou was either hurled across the classroom like the silver ballbearing in a pachinko game, or subjected to her brilliant trampling skills. She'd refused to admit defeat. But the game ended quickly when the irate Trickster threw his hands up in defeat and jumped onto the desk, fearing for his life and feet.

"You're vandalising school property in my presence! I'm not going to tolerate this!" the vice-captain yelled, cracking his knuckles ominously.

"Well, I'm not going to tolerate her presence anymore! Get her out of here!"

While Sanada relentlessly hurled abuses at Niou, and Yagyuu was just trying to ease the situation, the others sensibly stayed away from the heated confrontation at the sidelines.

Yukimura, unperturbed by the grave atmosphere surrounding the manageress, cracked a smile. "Do you see what I mean? Anyway, it's what you wanted all along. No waltz scene."

"..."

"It'll be fine, Akemi-chan!" Marui assured, tousling her hair. "Your attitude towards dancing changed for the better! That's great, isn't it?"

"…"

"That's right, senpai!" Kirihara agreed enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. "After all, isn't it what you told me before? Ahduvuashichi biluutsu kyarakuta!" he stumbled over the words, completely butchering the English phrase.

Akemi cast a pensive look at him for a few moments; an unreadable expression on her face.

Then –

"Hmm…well, in that case, Kirihara-kun." She put an arm around the freshman's shoulder and forced him to look straight into her eyes. "Would you like some character-building time with your dearest senpai?"

"E-e-e-e-e-h…w-w-w-w-w-ell..w-well…" he sputtered nonsensically; knees quivering in fear under that familiar spine-chilling gaze.

But that's not all...

A sinister grin spread across her features.

"An hour of English fun at the library sounds fab right?" Akemi drawled smoothly, curling her fingers around his necktie. "We'll work on your appallingly nauseating pronounciation. Besides, we lost quite a lot of time last Friday due to an unforeseen circumstance." She never told Marui and Kirihara what really happened. "Oh, by the way." She held the crumpled scriptbook before his ghostly pale face. "This kind of lucky situation you're in is called: 'KILL two birds with one stone'."

"Buchou! Help me!" Kirihara cried as he was being yanked towards the exit by the necktie.

"She's right about the two birds though," Yukimura smiled, waving goodbye.

"Guys!" he flailed his arms, gazing pleadingly over at Marui, Jackal, and Yanagi.

"Good luck in your endeavour!" Marui cheered, waving his own arms fervently above his head while Yanagi chuckled amusingly.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

('She's definitely taking her frustration out on him,' Jackal wearily sighed. 'Poor guy.')

XXX

(At this time…8 hours behind Japan)

"Here's your tea, madam," the maid announced, setting the cup gently on the ornate table. She looked up and blinked in puzzlement. "Madam?" she queried.

The madam did not choose to reply. Instead, she wordlessly handed the tablet to the maid and leant back in the comfortable armchair.

The maid glanced down at the device in her hands and lapsed into a stunned silence.

It was a picture of a dancing young couple with their arms around one another. Their lips parted widely, the look on their faces and the red tints on their cheeks…the maid could only be certain they were laughing boisterously.

The photographer really captured the moment of happiness perfectly.

So the old madam thought as she brought the teacup to her lap. Behind the glasses, a pair of startling blue eyes shifted over to the window beside her.

She watched the clouds hanging over the picturesque pasture of the Welsh countryside rolled by.

The madam sighed delicately.

"It's about time I pay them a visit."

I was torn between the German and English versions of 'Voices of Spring', but ultimately decided on the former since it's Atobe who was reciting the lyrics, I thought it's more...err...logical? Initially, 'Viennese Blood' was my first choice. But after listening to 'Voices of Spring' several times, I picked this song instead. Anyway, it's like Atobe said, fitting ;)

*English version

The lark rises into the blue,
the mellow wind mildly blowing;
his lovely mild breath revives
and kisses the field, the meadow.
Spring in all its splendour rises,
ah all hardship is over,
sorrow becomes milder,
good expectations,
the belief in happiness returns;
sunshine, you warm us,
ah, all is laughing, oh,oh awakes!

Shamelessly c/p from wikipedia. So, props to the person who translated the verse.

Thanks for reading!