"Okay. Are you ready?" Ryoshi asks me. I am standing in front of him. A flash of lightning illustrates his face, handsome, his green eyes watching me.
"One second," I say, and slip off my black flats, part of the maid uniform. They pinch my toes, and I don't want to be in pain for this. Plus it will hurt him less when I step on him. I throw them in the corner of my room.
"Okay, I'm good."
"Alright. Okay, first…" Ryoshi reaches out and takes my gloved left hand. "You put your left arm on my right shoulder." He puts it there, bringing our bodies significantly closer. My waist presses against his. My cheeks color.
"And I'll put my hand here…" He places a firm hand on the small of my back. We pause for a second. I swallow.
"Um, and now I just hold your hand out to the side, like that. Yours goes on top, because you're the woman." I like how he doesn't call me a 'girl'. I like how he holds me steadily. I like how good our heights are together. He's taller, but not so much that I feel overpowered. And I like that he's taller, period. It makes me feel… Jeez, what's the word? Feminine? It's not something I like usually, but it feels so right with him.
"Okay. This is the harder part. Basically, I'll take a step forward—" He does. "And then you'll go back." I step back. "And again." He does. I do. "And again…," he murmurs. We're in time with each other now, but still slower than the song. The piano swirls around us, filling the air with chords and notes so beautiful that I forget everything. I forget about my clumsy ways and my awkward words. I forget that I can't dance. I forget about everything except the way it feels to have Ryoshi's body correspond to mine, and vice versa, his steps showing mine the way, mine backing his off, the way his hand caresses mine, the fingers on my waist touching me with a profound tenderness that makes me lose my uncertainty.
He is trying to turn us now, and I don't know how. I tense up, my body collapsing against his nervously.
"Hey," Ryoshi whispers into my ear. "Trust me. I've got you."
I relax, and my hips, my feet, remember what to do. He turns us in a new direction, my fingers squeezing his. A blush lives on my cheeks. My heart doesn't pound my ribcage like it usually does. Instead, it seems to sigh in blissful contentment, as his chest rises and falls with mine, his dark hair brushing my face.
"You're very good, Ryoko," he murmurs. I don't believe it. Thinking on it though, I realize that I haven't stepped on him once.
"Mmmmm. So are you. Where'd you learn?" We lean closer into each other mid-step, for no reason at all.
"Aunt Yukime," he explains softly, voice low, against my hair. I shiver.
"I should have known," I whisper. Every word sounds like a promise. I can't tell you why. It doesn't matter.
With a beautiful musical sigh, the song changes.
It's now Stairway to Heaven. What a weird song to ballroom dance to. The tempo is slower than the previous song, and Ryoshi adjusts the speed. I find it easy to follow his lead. Suddenly, he releases me, and twirls me lightly out of his arms, the fingers of his right hand never letting go of mine. I spin in a perfect circle before coming back to him. I no longer need to be guided so much. I move with him interdependently now, the turns steady and gentle. We still need each other's support, though—the dance would fail, I realize, if we don't rely on the other's moves.
Ryoshi is so near to me. My cheek is lightly pressed against his, his mouth by my lower jaw. I'm sure he can feel my breath, no longer nervous. I'm sure he can feel my lips, my sweet smile. I know it is sweet, because I feel very sweet, and I can feel it traced on my smile. The minutes glide by.
The song is still gently strumming, however, Ryoshi and I change. His hand guides my right to his left shoulder, his moving to my lower back, settling beside the other. My arms are draped over his shoulders gently, and he holds me close to him, lightly at first, in case I want to move away. I don't, and his arms tighten around me, holding me. We move microscopically in a step pattern, but I'm not focused on the dancing anymore. I rest my head on the place between his neck and shoulder. The song's beat picks up, but we stay the same way, slow, this underlying energy pulsing in my chest.
I was delusional, silly, to imagine that this would be like how it was with Shiro. That dancing was rough and forceful, Shiro pulling me too close, jerking me the way he wanted me to go, then sneering at me when I tripped. This isn't like that at all… this is… Emotional. Intimate. Ryoshi's steps were designed to teach me, not ridicule me. His hands aren't greedy and frustrated, they're gentle and kind, patient and protective of me, like I'm the most beautiful and precious thing in the world. And in his arms, I believe that it's true.
But it isn't. He's what's wonderful, not me. He's been everything I needed, even before I realized that he was what I wanted. I…I…
I love you so much.
My hand leaves his shoulder and finds his cheek. I lift my face up to his. He brushes his lips over my cheek, so close my mouth. Our bodies press even closer, his left arm moves higher up my back, I feel him tilt his face toward mine, his warm breath teasing me. I let my fingers entwine with his hair. Our noses touch, our lips—
"Oh Sweetheart, we missed y—Aghhhh!" Jared screeches, and Ryoshi and I rip away from each other in shock. The icy air hits my body without his warmth, and my heart screams in protest. I'm so angry I could kill Jared for barging in like the moron he is! Why does this always happen?!
"What the hell is going on in here?!" Jared cries. "Y—you!" He jabs a finger at Ryoshi. A
"And her!" His disbelieving stare stabs me unmercifully.
"I don't know who you are," Ryoshi says calmly, "But you will shut up right now."
"N—no way, man! What were you doing to Sweetheart?! You monster!" Jared fumes.
"Jared, will you please, please shut the hell up?" I snap. "Nothing… Nothing happened. We were… he was…"
Ryoshi and I stare at each other, panicking. Jared stares right back. His eyes dart from Ryoshi to me.
"You," Ryoshi commands. "You need to come in here right now."
"Uh…"
"I am Morino Ryoshi, heir to this house. You have to follow my orders."
"Uh, I guess? Not really. Your mom's the boss, not you."
Ryoshi frowns, the same kind of frown that he gave Shiro. Jared looks down and steps inside, shutting the door behind him. I stomp over to him.
"Jared," I growl, "If you say anything… anything to anyone about seeing us together in here, you're dead meat. You got it?"
"I don't get it," he babbles. "How—when—?!"
"You don't need to get it," Ryoshi says firmly. "You will not do anything to cause Ryoko to get fired, or I will make you pay for it. Is that clear?"
"Wait, what? Who the heck is 'Ryoko'?"
"Emi." I correct him. "Or Sweetheart. Whatever."
"Why is he calling you Sweetheart?" Ryoshi sounds a little hurt.
"All the servants do," I explain quickly. "They just decided to. Hell if I know why."
"Is Emi even your real name?" Jared interrupts. "Who are you?!"
"It doesn't matter, just promise you will keep your mouth shut!" I grab his shirt collar and yank his face toward mine.
"Okay, okay!" he whines. "But only 'cause your boyfriend is scary."
"He's not my boyfriend. I mean…"
"Good," Ryoshi tells Jared, talking around me. "Now you can go."
Jared glances down the hall, which is now light. The power must have come back on.
"Okay, but you guys need to split up. The lights are back, and your mom's gonna be looking for you." He turns toward the door, checks the hall for people, and turns back.
"Uhhh bye. Peace out… or whatever." He darts down the hall, his usually pale face flushed.
I slowly turn to Ryoshi. "He's right. It's not safe for us anymore."
He nods. "Right. I—," he starts. "I'll write the letter. We leave Sunday, right?"
"Five o'clock." I nod. I blush then, because I don't know what to say. Jared completely blew the mood. Ryoshi looks at me for a moment, before crossing the room, and pulling me into a warm embrace. My nervousness dissipates in his arms.
"I'll see you soon. I love you, Ryoko." And too soon, he is gone, and I am left to sort out everything that just happened between us.