All lights were on Sora now. With Elsa to his left, and a dozen or so pairs of eyes watching his every movement, it was way too late to back out now.
Already clammy with sweat, barely able to see because of the floodlights, and hyper sensitive to each and every noise ricocheting through the dancefloor, he supposed he was going to have to get this over with.
He looked over to Elsa, who silently nodded back, her grip gently rippling through his. She raised her free hand into the air, and the rhythmic strumming of an acoustic guitar massaged his eardrums.
Concise, decisive chords, a few seconds apart each time, he was definitely past the point of no return now. Elsa let go of his hand and and sashayed away from him in time to the chords, a look of murderous fury on her face.
Had he done something wrong already? Sora grimaced, taking on what he hoped was an imposing looking stance, meanwhile Elsa was holding her dress by the hems and sweeping them towards him like she was trying to propel herself.
Arms raised, one toe on point, Sora acted on instinct, tapping to a ricochet of castanets. Elsa's eyes flashed - was that a good thing? - before she suddenly drew closer and their foreheads were touching again.
She offered him a tiny, private smile, easing his nerves just a little. A welcoming tumble of bassy notes punctuated their moment before Elsa suddenly twirled away from him, latching onto his hand.
Her dress flowing after her like a wave of lava, she drew the length out between them and them looped back in again, pulling his arm around her. The process repeated with another swell of acoustic guitar, and Sora was quicker to react this time, matching her ebb and flow.
Four times the pattern repeated, followed by a trilogy of castanets clacking rhythmically, which Elsa matched with her feet tapping on the dancefloor.
She gave Sora a look, and now apparently it was his turn. Leon's lessons weren't nearly fast enough for this sort of tempo, but a crash session and a few clumsy practices did more good than he'd thought, because with every awkward shuffle branching out into a clumsy swing, and Elsa following his moves looking pleasantly surprised, the more the dancefloor before him seemed to empty out.
Judgemental stares were still glaring at him, but they weren't any different than the floodlights, and they were snuffed out one at a time with every move he didn't screw up on.
Suddenly, the melody changed, taking on a more sombre, pensive tone. Quick as a flash, Elsa was an inch away from Sora again, and both of his hands were at her waist with her subtle control.
One two steps forward, one two steps back,
and panic rippled through Sora as Elsa's top half basically melted backwards. Held up at the waist, her body twisted backwards and she rotated around in a swoon of some sort. Sora just turned slowly as she pivoted a full semicircle, all to the tune of a smooth jingle from the acoustic guitar.
She then drew herself back to her full height and carried on as if nothing had happened.
One two steps forward, one two steps back, step into twirl and then confusion struck again as more castanets flared up, and Elsa was entirely prepared for this, segueing into a pitter patter of taps. She gently squeezed Sora's hand and he supposed he had to do the same. A third flurry of castanets had Elsa tap dancing again and then both of them landed with timely stomps in near unison.
Four blasts of a horn fed their way into the melody, and Sora became aware of just how hard his body was working.
His heart was thundering. Sweat was blurring his vision. His muscles were pulling tight like guitar strings. Yet still the music carried on.
He'd always thought fighting monsters for a living would turn into a reasonable degree of fitness, but this was something else. He might've just about looked the part, but Elsa was the puppet master in this charade, pulling him around and directing near every movement. He was merely a spectator in his own overworked body at this point.
But with the flare of the horns and the strum of the guitar, he could be fine with it. After all, he was just repaying a favour. And Elsa didn't seem disappointed with him.
Whether Kuzco would be was another story, but it looked like Sora was about to find out.
With another flurry of castanets, growing in intensity and tempo, things were clearly wrapping up. The pair took turns, tapping in time, until an unstoppable avalanche of them proved too much to even try. Elsa gave him a look, and steadied herself.
Oh gods, what was she going to do?
The castanets continued clicking, much like a drumbeat, and suddenly everything was a panic as Elsa practically launched herself at him.
"Shi-" Sora gasped, censoring himself just in time. His hands arriving at the waist, Elsa's momentum carried and she held above him, arms spread outwards while her dress flowed everywhere, and Sora's hands shook desperately in his efforts to keep her in the air.
The floodlights softened, and horns blasted out some celebratory jingle to a rattle of polite applause.
Between the release of pressure, the cascading sweat, and the poofy dress in his face, Sora's grip stumbled, and the pair fell like a house of cards. Always a queen, Elsa was grace and poise as she landed on Sora, gathering herself immaculately. Sitting up and rubbing his hip, he accepted a hand up from Elsa, who was still beaming professionally.
"Good enough, Sora." She grinned from the wrong side of her mouth.
"I-I'm just glad I didn't disappoint..." he tittered awkwardly, meanwhile the nerves suddenly melted into surprise at the sight of scorecards being lifted up.
The golden guy, the old lady, Kuzco himself and Quina for some reason were holding up an 8, 5, 2, and 7 respectively, with varying expressions from enthralled to bored.
Sora just blinked. He wasn't exactly looking for feedback on this one thing he was hopefully never going to have to do again, but it was nice all the same.
He and Elsa took their moment to bow to the audience, and the polite applause slowly thinned out to a staccato of slow claps from Kuzco.
"Wonderful! Wonderful!" He announced, his face betraying his words. "Very cute. It's almost like you tried!"
Elsa's smile was as consummate as ever, but Sora's felt his own splintering. Criticism was understandable, but that was a bit much. If he'd learned anything from doing people favours, it's that you show gratitude to the favour-doer. You don't judge their efforts.
The chorus of horns in the background farted silent, and Kuzco slowly rose to his feet. Eyebrows flat, smirk still plastered, he took his time excusing himself from the guests' table and approaching the pair of them.
Sora felt hairs on the back of his neck spring to attention. He was already clammy from being thrown around by Elsa for the past few minutes, but this guy, effortlessly sliding over towards them in his flowing red robe and sandals, gave him the chills for some reason.
What was he going to do if this guy didn't like their dance? Would he have to do it again? Come back in a week and do better? Be responsible for a declaration of war?
That last one was probably a little much, but Kuzco here seemed like he dealt in extremes.
"Aw, who am I kiddin'. You just grabbed the first guy you could and pushed him around a bit, huh Queenie?" Kuzco jeered. A hand on both of their shoulders, he stood between them without a flinch, and Sora could feel the rage smouldering within Elsa.
"Emperor Kuzco, I-" She protested, only for him to interrupt.
"No talky!" He raised a judgemental finger. "You do not interrupt me, Queenie."
Elsa's eyebrows furrowed with rage, but she remained tight lipped.
"Don't let it get you down, okay? Not just anyone can groove like me. Now, to brass tacks."
Elsa clenched a hand, ice crystals creeping up her arm, meanwhile Sora was ready to summon his Keyblade. Whatever was going down here, he was ready to-
"Your little dance move? With the twirls and the yada yada?" Kuzco smirked. "That move is done like this."
And Sora's arm was all but wrenched from the socket as Kuzco pulled him into a hold. With one hand woven into his, another on his waist, and Kuzco's smug, condescending face an inch from his own, Sora was subjected to flurry after flurry of twirls and aggressive dance steps.
Elsa just stepped away, hand over her mouth, meanwhile Sora found himself being dragged around a dancefloor by another man in less than 24 hours.
At least he wasn't wearing the dress this time, he grumbled internally. Small victories, after all.
The band kicked back into life, and members of the audience started clapping rhythmically as the dancefloor slowly filled up with other participants. Between Elsa, Kuzco and his 'education', Sora could definitely consider this favour repaid.