It was because of the arrival of Shinigami that I found myself tossed back into my fighting uniform, for there had not been time to buy me other clothes, and on the way to a party with Zechs. I had been informed of this arrangement earlier, but I could see that Zechs was nervous about taking me out in public alone, in case I should act up or something. He seemed naive about my honor-bound submission now that he had defeated me, and I was not stupid enough to enlighten him.
I, too, was dreading the party, but for different reasons. There was the pounding headache that I simply could not get rid of and the aching lethargy in my limbs that no amount of sleep could cure. I knew, because I had slept nearly the entire time Zehcs had been gone, not even waking for lunch. I regretted that now, for there had not been time to get dinner before the party, and my stomach was so tightly in knots that I wasn't sure I would be able to eat once there. I had not even had the forethought to take something for my headache before leaving.
We had to hurry down the halls, going at a brisk pace. I, of course, had to walk faster than Zechs, for my legs were considerably shorter than his, so that my pace looked more rushed than his. But Zechs always made things look easy, no matter what it was. He had an inborn grace and flow that could not be mimicked or replicated. It was all him.
In the halls, he kept glancing at me, and I eventually couldn't take it anymore. Since we were alone, and because I probably would not be able to do it for the rest of the night, I snapped at him.
"What?" I snapped, grumpy from the pain.
"Hm?" he responded, as though he had been doing nothing wrong.
"You keep staring at me. Did I tear my clothes or something?"
"It would be an improvement," he said, smiling slightly. "No, I was just thinking that we should get you something nicer to wear."
"I can assure you, these clothes are of the highest quality."
"That as it may be, they don't do you justice in the least."
"Ah, so you want to show off my body."
"Mm. I suppose you could see it that way. I just think it's a shame to hide such a perfect physique, that's all."
"I'm not perfect," I replied, blushing. "And besides, there are thousands of beautiful boys here."
"Yes, but most of them are lapdogs; trained for one purpose alone, only ever thinking of how best to attract the attention of the masters. You'd be amazed at how many heads you turn, Wufei, merely because you scorn attention. In a place like this, the best thing you can do to stand out is to go against the usual rules of conduct. You'd probably stand out less by revealing more skin. But none of that matters now. We'll speak of new outfits later. Are you ready?" he asked, pausing just beyond the entrance to the party.
I huffed in response. "As ready as I'll ever be," I told him. He smiled.
"Don't look so morose," he chided. "The others will think I'm not a good date," he said, then winked and led me into the party before I could respond.
There was, like most parties, a theme to the party I found myself in, but luckily it was nothing scandalous or outrageous. It did not even require that I change into a costume, as many of the parties did. The theme was simply dance, and the huge, high domed ballroom was filled with slaves performing various dances in various ethnic outfits. The ballroom was sectioned off into smaller areas, so that the dancers could perform without getting in each other's way. Each area also had its own sound system, so that each dancer or pair could play their own song. The masters all congregated around the dance area, watching their slaves dance or dancing with the slaves. Of course, many of these dances were nothing more than sex to music, sometimes literally, but there were a few of the dancers that were very good. A few I recognized as slaves that had previously competed in Collar, and the others I expected would be competing this year.
I worried for a moment about dancing in front of Zechs, for dance was the competition I always did my worst in. I worried that he would, with his fighter's eye, see how easily the steps came to me and how effortlessly I performed up until the jump that I always failed. I doubted, however, that I would do very well at dancing in my condition anyway. I would probably look terrible, if I were even asked.
It was an hour before my intuition was proved correct, and a master that had been speaking with Zechs suddenly turned his eyes on me.
"I don't suppose," he asked, "that you could persuade Dragon to show us his routine for Collar?" the master asked. I couldn't quite remember his name.
"Hm. I couldn't possibly ask him to reveal what he has planned for this year, but I suppose I could convince him to perform something from past years."
"Yes, that's lovely. Have you seen any of his moves?"
"Oh," Zechs said, grinning, "I've seen several of his moves, but probably none you're acquainted with."
The other master burst out laughing, giving me a rakish smile. I was well aware that Zechs was speaking of my swordsmanship, but I could only assume from his look that the other master had assumed Zechs was referring to... swordsmanship of a different kind. I wanted to glare at him, but didn't dare. My honor wouldn't let me humiliate Zechs in front of the other masters, no matter how much I wanted to.
Zechs nodded to me, and I nodded in return, then found a music station and put on my song, chose a somewhat secluded area of the dance floor, and began my routine.
The dance really wasn't all that different from my katanas. Actually, many of the moves that were in my dance had been pulled from my fighting studies. I wondered if Zechs would see that, then decided he would. He was a master fighter, and even a novice could see the fighting moves inside my dance. Of course, most of the masters at Collar missed it.
It started out slowly, the routine mimicking the movement of the wind through tree branches. It was all about balance and poise, in the first section. Then, after about a minute, the song suddenly picked up, causing my movements to mimic the movement of a storm. There were high jumps and kicks, a couple of somersaults and back flips. At the very center of the storm, at which point all the music would stop, I was to perform my most difficult jump. In this jump, I would spring from a handstand, corckscrew my body as my feet came over my head, and land on one leg. It was nearly impossible to perform, and I fell every time I performed it in public.
The dance I performed then, however was different. In this one, I wasn't even sure I was going to make it to the corckscrew, let alone land it. My head was pounding in time to my music, and I could feel my body shaking as I performed the slow part of the dance. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I shake this feeling of... utter crap? My stomach hurt and my eyes were bleary, my vision fogged, and all I wanted to do was go back to bed.
But I couldn't just quit. I wasn't sure if Zechs would actually beat me or not for it, but the other masters would ridicule him for not having control over me, even though they had never been able to control me. And, as much as I couldn't stand masters, I had sworn to Zechs that I would obey him if he defeated me, and I would not go back on my word.
It was almost as if the music had timed my downfall. There was a crash of drums just a few seconds before my big jump in which I was to create a small, less complicated leap. In the past, I had almost enjoyed this particular jump, despite the pressure that dancing put on me. This time, however, the small jump seemed like an arduous task and, halfway through it, I realized that I had neither the energy nor the concentration to land it correctly.
I managed to catch myself just enough to ensure that I would not break anything when I landed. I hit the ground, stumbled, took several steps, and could only watch as my legs gave out and the floor rose to meet me.
There must have been a few seconds of darkness between when I fell and when I opened my eyes, but for the life of me I could not remember them. I merely remembered falling, then waking up to two unfamiliar slaves opening my eyes.
"He seems alright," on commented over his shoulder. "Should I leave him or call the medics?" he asked. Looking beyond him, I could see Zechs standing at the fence, trying to look unconcerned while I could tell that he was barely controlling the urge to come to me. The rest of the masters had wandered off when the entertainment had ceased.
"Is there a private room we can go to?" Zechs asked. "I'd rather not make a spectacle of this."
"Right this way," one said, hauling me to my feet. My world swam, my vision going dim a moment before I managed to find my feet. I heard Zechs gasp, and could see rage in his eyes.
Surely he wasn't that mad that I had fallen? I always fell. I wasn't even his slave to show off. And I was still one of the best dancers of Collar. But, despite this, the rage did not fade from Zechs' eyes, and only seemed to increase as the two slaves pushed me away from the party and to an empty bedroom.
"Is there anything else you need?" one of the slaves asked as the other pushed me to stand next to the bed. I felt the color rise in my cheeks, as I knew exactly what a room with a large bed and velvet sheets was intended for. Surely Zechs wouldn't...
"I could use a pitcher of water. Perhaps something light to snack on?" Zechs said to the slaves, who were quick to respond by hurrying out of the room. When they were gone, Zechs turned to me, frowning deeply.
"Sit down before you fall down," he ordered, "and put your feet up. Actually, lie down on the bed. That'll seem less strange to them, I think," he said even as he pushed me to lie back on the bed. I wanted to resist, but I was simply too weak. When the other two slaves arrived again, I was lying back as wantonly as any harlot.
"Is there anything else you need?" they asked, setting down the pitcher of water and tray of fruit and crackers.
"Just some privacy. There are things I need to tend to with a rather insolent slave," he said.
"Yes, Master Zechs," they said, kneeling before scurrying out the door. And then Zechs turned to me.
"Give me your hand."
"What?" I wondered, staring up at him. In the two seconds since the slaves had left, his demeanor had completely changed. Gone was the savage, leering pervert, and in his place was the gallant swordsman. But which one was real?
"Give me your hand," he said once again, reaching out to take the wrist I extended. He knelt in front of me and, bringing my hand close to his face, pinched the skin on the back of my hand.
"What are you doing?" I snapped, yanking my hand from his grip.
"Don't be such a baby," he said, reaching for my hand again. He retrieved it, pulled it to its prior position, pinched me a second time, and, after a moment of deliberation, stood up and walked away.
"You're crazy," I muttered, holding my hand to my chest.
"And you're dehydrated," he responded. I could only stare at him again. "See for yourself," he said, taking my hand and pinching me again. The skin that he had pinched stayed pinched even after he had let go.
"But... how? I didn't do anything strenuous," I protested.
"But you were attacked and drugged last night. You also had to pee thirteen times while you were drugged, for which I had to accompany you to the door for every one," he said, smiling at the memory. I blushed a dark red. Surely I hadn't asked a master to take me to the restroom!
Zechs moved and retrieved a glass of water for me, then made sure I drank the whole thing.
"I should have seen this earlier, but I guess you should have said something as well. I suppose there's nothing we can do about it now. You probably have a headache, too, but there's nothing I can do for that right now except let you relax. How long do you think we have?" he asked.
"At least an hour. Maybe more."
"Ah. Well, then, would you mind terribly if I caught forty winks while we're waiting?"
"It's my fault you're so tired anyway. If I had taken care of the intrude myself, you wouldn't have had to wake up."
"Oh, I doubted it was the late night that killed me," he said as I moved over to make room for him on the bed. "I've pulled all-nighters before. It's these constant parties that are going to be the death of me," he told me as he lay back against the pillows beside me. He sighed and set his wristwatch, then let his arms drop to the bed as his eyes closed. "I'll just take a little nap. Make sure... you... drink..." he sighed, and was already asleep. Looking closely, I could see the bags under his eyes, and the faint lines of stress on his face. Unfortunately, being so close, I could also see how beautiful he was, how well formed his face was, and how glossy his hair was.
I had to remind myself several times that evening that I hated Zechs.