"Do you think I should go for the triple pirouette at the end?" she asked, holding her arms in place as he fixed a sequin on her tutu. "My double is solid, but I have enough time for three. I'm just not landing them every time."
There was a slight incline of his head, long silver hair pulled back into a loose braid down his back. "You do well under pressure. The presence of the audience will likely allow you to land it properly."
She smiled down at him. Sesshoumaru Taisho was a sort of jack-of-all-trades in their dance studio. His main job was accompanist during dress rehearsals and regular classes, but he also moonlighted as a seamster and general handyman. Anytime something went wrong, he was the one you went to for help. "Thanks so much for touching up my costume, Taisho-san. I swear there are goblins in my dressing room messing with anything sparkly anytime I turn my head."
He flinched, the needle pricking his finger, and she tried to grab his hand. "I apologize, my hand slipped. I will bandage it up so as to not get blood on your costume."
Kagome opened her mouth to argue, but he'd already fled, leaving her alone in her dressing room. Sighing, she pulled off the tutu, replacing it with her usual sweats. The show was in a few days, and it was her first time as the principal dancer, so everything had to go right.
If only she could get that stupid song out of her head.
She rubbed her temple, which had begun to throb again. An unknown melody had been playing in her head for nearly a week, and no matter how many other songs she listened to, it never left her alone.
It would've been fine if the song was familiar—then she could hum out the rest of it and get it over with—but aside from the repetitive rhythm within her own mind, she couldn't place the song at all. The same chorus, or at least what she assumed was the chorus, kept repeating itself over and over, to the point of driving her insane.
Popping a couple of painkillers, she left her dressing room. Maybe running through the final pas de deux on stage would help clear her mind.
No such luck.
Even plugging in her headphones and going through the moves to other songs didn't help. Sighing, she sat down on the edge of the stage, tapping her point shoes against the wood in time with the unrelenting notes.
Maybe she could figure out the song herself. If she could just finish the song, it would leave her alone. She started experimenting with the second half of the chorus. A few notes fell into place, but it only made her head throb more.
Groaning, she pressed her palms against her ears to block out the sound, but she suddenly realized the notes were coming from outside her head, and she leapt off the stage and raced down the hall.
There were chords now, and harmonies, and though she still couldn't name the tune, it was as if her mind had solidified it and brought it to life. She burst into the rehearsal studio and the melody came to an abrupt halt, Taisho's hands lifting off the keyboard as his face went ashen.
Breathing heavily, Kagome gripped the edge of the doorway, neither saying anything. After a moment, Taisho averted his eyes and closed the piano. "I had thought you went home."
She shook her head. "How do you know that song?"
His shoulders stiffened. "Do you know that song?" There was an odd hope in his tone, even though he still wasn't looking at her.
She leaned against the frame, rubbing her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's been playing in my head for several days, but I don't know where I've heard it before."
His shoulders slumped, the lid clicking shut over the keyboard. "It is an original piece, so you would not have heard it anywhere else."
Blue eyes widened. "You wrote it yourself?" She'd never known him to do anything but play the standard exercise songs for class or an acoustic version of the set pieces. "Will you play it for me?"
His hands flexed as she stepped further into the room, the only sound being her shoes against the floor. "I cannot," he said.
"Why not?" she asked, desperation rising. She needed to hear the end of this song. She'd never be sane again if she didn't. "It only has to be once. Then I'll leave you alone." He flinched again, shoulders hunched like a caged animal, and mumbled something under his breath, but she was too far away to decipher it. She clasped her hands together. "Please? I just need to hear the end of it. The first part is stuck in my head, but nothing about the second half will form."
Dragging in what seemed like a painful breath, Taisho finally nodded, lifting the lid off the keyboard and placing his feet on the pedals below. "Only once," he relented. Lithe fingers spread out over the keys, and he closed his eyes before pressing down.
Kagome's body moved on its own, unable to keep still as the notes soared out of the piano. It was like ripples along the shore before they lifted into the air, the breeze carrying her along with it. She twisted and turned with each chord, a dramatic key change in the middle urging her into a series of jumps across the floor.
It was pure magic.
The pounding in her head got worse, but she knew she had to see it out to the end, pushing past the pain and the dizziness until she was spinning uncontrollably in the middle of the studio. The song ended, though she wasn't sure if it was by choice, as the floor suddenly came up to meet her, and she collapsed.
The sound of her name and the subtle shaking of her shoulders pulled her out of the spiral she'd been in, and she blinked in surprise as she stared up into the face of someone she knew.
Someone she knew better.
Concerned amber eyes stared down at her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she reached up, cupping his face. "Sesshoumaru." His hand flew to hers, keeping it against his cheek as he ceased to breathe, waiting for her to continue. Her face broke into a smile, and she flung her arms around his neck. "Sesshoumaru!"
He slumped in relief, legs going out from under him as he sat on the floor. "You remember."
"I'm so sorry!" Her grip tightened. "What happened? I remember the song and dancing, but then—"
He buried his face into her hair. "Someone left resin on the stage, and you slipped and hit your head. The medic was not concerned about the show but said that memory loss could be a factor."
Kagome whimpered. "You were there, right? I was dancing to your song and—" She suddenly pulled back, digging into the top of her shirt. She found what she was looking for at the end of a silver chain, the intricate ring shining in the fluorescent lighting. "I still get to keep this, right?"
His laughter was forced, emotion clogging his throat as he kissed her forehead. "That is the reason I wrote the song in the first place." As the notes faded away, images flooded back in. He'd stolen her away to the stage for some sort of surprise, settling into the piano as if he'd been born to do so, and she hadn't been able to stop herself from dancing along to the soft melody.
When he revealed why she'd never heard the song before and then climbed onto the stage only to get down on one knee, she'd been beside herself. He'd barely gotten the question out before she'd thrown herself at him, closing the distance between them as she accepted his proposal.
And then an odd chain of events had caused her to slip on the way out of the theatre, and she'd suddenly gone back to calling him by his last name.
"I'd thought it was your strange way of rejecting me," he said, the confession whispered against her skin. "You had no memory of that night, but you still wore the ring around your neck. I could not decipher your endgame."
Kagome groaned and kissed him again, thumbs stroking his cheeks. "You even tried to get it back at one point."
Colour tinged his ears. "Not my most honourable moment." He'd simply asked to return it to its rightful owner, and she'd looked at him like he'd grown a tail, haughtily asking why she would give up her most prized possession.
"I'll never give it back," she promised, pressing their foreheads together.
"I would hope not. But perhaps we should stick to the designated rehearsal spaces from now on?"
She nodded, finally allowing him to pull her off the floor. "Only if you promise to play that song whenever I want."
His expression softened, and her heart clenched at how long it had been since she'd seen him smile. "Of course. It is your song, after all."
Kagome shook her head. "It's our song."