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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

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Natural Opposite: Re-post of 3/16

Many thanks again to my beta, @distant-rose, as well as my artist @optomisticgirl who made the amazing banner above. You can also check out her art for chapter two here: Chapter Two Art

Summary: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Rating: M for mature themes, steamy dance routines, and sexy times (But NOT smut)

Trigger warnings: discussions of online solicitation of a minor, bullying, statutory rape, and emotionally abusive/controlling relationships; stalking; anti-Rumbelle, anti-Neal

Can also be read on A03

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be added to my tag list) @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @kday426 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @followbatb @onceuponaprincessworld @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules @sambethe

Chapter Three: Hips Don’t Lie

“Regina, what the hell?”

Regina swiveled her chair to face Emma, who had stormed into her office with absolutely no preamble. She folded her hands calmly on her desk and arched a finely penciled brow. “Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Swan.”

Emma just stood in front of the woman’s desk, hands on her hips, foot tapping impatiently. “Cut the crap, Regina. How dare you –“

Regina cut her off with a raised hand. “If you’re storming in here to complain about your partner, you can stop right there. Thank God we salvaged enough footage from your first meeting. You couldn’t have been more rude to the man if you tried!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And he couldn’t have been more of a self-absorbed jerk if he tried.”

Regina leaned forward, her eyes lowering to angry slits. “Every other female pro would gladly take a lead pipe to your knee to have an A-list celebrity as a partner.”

“Save it, Regina that’s not why I’m here. He may be a pain in the ass, but I’m not going to complain.” She lowered her arms and sighed. “I know having him as a partner is a great opportunity. Although I am wondering why the hell a guy with such a successful career is doing a show like ours.”

Regina leaned back in her chair, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the arm rests. “Well, this can’t go beyond this office, but the network will soon be announcing that season six will be Neverland’s last.”

Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise as she plopped down into a chair. “Seriously? But it’s their highest rated show.”

Regina shrugged. “The creators say they had an ending in mind, and they won’t risk the show’s integrity going beyond it.”

Emma nodded, thinking. She wasn’t a fan of the show, but everybody knew about last season’s finale. It was a two hour musical episode about Hook and Tinkerbell’s wedding. She had also seen TV insiders speculating that the show could only go downhill now that its most popular couple was married.

“So what’s that got to do with Killian Jones doing this show?” Emma finally asked.

“Well, you know his reputation.”

Emma snorted a laugh. “You mean the bad boy lady’s man? Yeah, from what I’ve seen it’s pretty accurate.”

“Right,” Regina nodded, “and so is his character, Captain Hook. He doesn’t want to be typecast as the lovable bad boy. He could have a great career after the show ends, or he could fade into obscurity like hundreds of others before him. He wants to use DWTS to change his image, show what else he can do. Prove to the industry that he has other sides.”

Emma scowled. “Or it could prove everyone right.”

Regina scowled right back. “Why are you here?”

Emma pressed her lips together in a thin, angry line. “The samba? Seriously?”

Regina laughed aloud as Emma’s anger mounted. Regina Mills was more involved in the show than most casting directors. Because of the nature of reality television, her title was more “cast relations” than simply finding the right celebrities to fill the roster. She supposedly ironed out issues and complaints, but she was mostly good at ensuring there was enough drama for ratings. Half the time, Emma thought she did more harm than good. On purpose.

“You’re seriously complaining about doing the samba with an attractive, successful actor?”

Emma dug her fingers into the leather seat. “Come on, Regina. No one gets the samba first. It’s the sex dance!”

Regina raised one finger. “Correction, that would be the rumba.”

Emma got to her feet, pacing and gesturing agitatedly. “Well, still, the samba is . . . is . . . intimate.” She stopped and whirled towards Regina again. “And don’t pretend. Everyone knows the standard week one dances: salsa, cha cha cha, the waltz.”

“That’s not an official policy.”

“It’s still what happens,” Emma hissed through clenched teeth, “and even a casual audience member knows it.”

“He’s sex on legs, Emma, it’s what the fans will want.”

Emma massaged her brow in frustration. “What if he has no rhythm and embarrasses himself?”

“Look at the man,” Regina insisted, “he’s got rhythm.”

“Just because a man’s attractive doesn’t mean he has rhythm! Or did you learn nothing from the underwear model fiasco?”

Regina stood quickly, Emma’s words having struck a nerve. She leaned one hand on her desk and wagged the other hand in Emma’s face. “Killian Jones was in a rock and roll band back in the UK. He has music in his blood. You’re doing the samba with him for week one. This discussion is closed.”

Regina took her seat with exaggerated calm, and Emma knew not to argue further. Yet she still couldn’t help getting in one more word before she stomped out of her office.

“We’ll see about that,” she snapped before slamming Regina’s door.

Emma knew what ran through the veins of a hot-blooded male like Killian Jones. And it wasn’t music.

**********************************************************

There was nothing more awkward than having a camera crew present when teaching choreography. Emma had felt this way even on So You Think You Can Dance. Of course, then she had been the amateur worried about looking awkward in front of famous choreographers that she had long idolized. It just wasn’t something you wanted recorded for television. And yet, by week four, she had grown accustomed to it. Even when learning styles so unfamiliar to her like hip hop or Bollywood. Gotten used to it just in time to be sent home, that is. David and Elsa both said that the experience on SYTYCD made them more sympathetic to what the celebrities went through on Dancing With the Stars. Emma agreed. In theory.

But then she had been thrust with Leroy. The man had no rhythm whatsoever. His hips were as awkward as a robot, doing this weird side to side jerky motion. He couldn’t remember even the simplest box step. When the time came for the live show, he completely forgot the choreography, and Emma sort of just danced around him.

All of that, however, could have been endearing if not for Leroy’s personality. He was lazy in rehearsals, taking constant breaks. He yelled at Emma when she tried to correct him. And he even had the audacity to tell Emma her choreography was “stupid” and accused her of trying to make him look bad on purpose. Emma had bit her tongue as much as possible, but Regina had to know it was a horrible match. Elsa’s calm demeanor or Ariel’s bubbly enthusiasm could have defused Leroy and possibly even made him likable. Either Regina wanted Leroy gone in the first elimination, or it was some sort of test. A test Emma failed miserably.

So as Emma headed for her first rehearsal with Killian Jones, she gave herself a pep talk. After such a horrible debut with Leroy, she really should be thankful for such an A list celebrity. And this time, she would rise to the challenge. She wouldn’t let this playboy’s flirting bring out her prickly side. She would pass this test, damn it, and prove herself to Regina and the show’s producers.

Emma was pleasantly surprised to find Killian already there when she arrived at the studio. She was also relieved to see him in sweatpants and a t-shirt; she had half expected him to show up still dressed like a model for GQ. She accepted the loose hug he gave her with a fake smile, knowing that the cameras were already rolling. But just when she thought maybe their first practice wouldn’t be so bad, he gave her an appreciative gaze and a wink.

“Looking lovely as ever, Swan.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she turned away from him. Her hair was in a sloppy ponytail, and she was wearing zero makeup. Her black capri yoga pants may have been skin tight, but her oversized t-shirt hung down covering her rear. The only thing remotely sexy about the way she looked was that the t-shirt had a wide neckline that hung off one shoulder to reveal the strap of her black sports bra. The man was a good actor, she would give him that much.

“Well,” she said after dropping her dance bag to the floor, “our first dance is . . .”

He lifted both eyebrows in anticipation. Emma’s pause was partly for dramatic effect and partly to brace herself for his reaction.

“. . . the samba.”

To her surprise, his face went slightly pale and he blinked rapidly a few times. “The samba? For week one? Isn’t that one of the more difficult dances?”

Emma smiled with relief that he hadn’t made some type of innuendo. “No, actually. The samba has a basic step with a quick, quick, slow rhythm. It looks harder than it is.”

She took his hands, placing one at her waist, and grasping the other with hers. One of the lucky things about the samba was that flaws in Killian’s frame would be masked with the side by side flicks and the rolls. The next half hour was the type of dull ballroom instruction that never made it into the show’s actual footage. Killian was a surprisingly diligent student, concentrating with a furrowed brow and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. At one point, she couldn’t help laughing a little.

“What?” he asked, looking slightly offended.

Emma shook her head. “You can’t dance the whole thing looking at your feet, you know.”

He managed to laugh at himself, glancing down and away to the side. Emma couldn’t help noting how long his lashes were; they practically brushed the tops of his cheeks. He then lifted his gaze to meet hers and rolled his shoulders back.

“This better?”

“Much.”

Killian leaned forward and fake whispered in her ear, loud enough for the cameras to catch. “If you wanted to gaze into my eyes, all you had to do was ask.”

Okay, so maybe some of this footage would make it to air.

*********************************************************

“Now that you’ve gotten the basic samba footwork down, we need to work on the harder moves.”

Killian took a swig from his water bottle and gave her another wary expression. “Harder?”

“Well, yeah, we can’t just do the quick, quick, slow thing around and around in circles for a minute and a half. There’s the performance factor, too.”

Emma took him by the hand and pulled him close. She turned so her back was to his chest, then she pulled his left arm around her waist.

“Well, Swan, don’t stand on ceremony,” Killian said to her huskily, bending down so his breath ghosted across her neck.

Emma caught his gaze in the reflection of the mirror and rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to show you a body roll, genius.”

Her tone was harsher than it probably should have been, but Killian just laughed. She took his right hand in hers and first taught him how to do the samba steps backwards. He stumbled a few times, but after several minutes, he picked it up.

“Now,” Emma said, “here’s the tricky part. I’m going to lean back into you. You’ll lean with me, and will take that movement in a smooth circle as we walk backwards.”

Killian swallowed nervously, “That, uh, sounds a little like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.”

Emma laughed at the comparison, “Yeah, a little, so we’ll take it slow.”

She leaned back as she and Killian both stepped backwards. But when Emma rolled her body to the side, Killian suddenly got confused about where his feet were supposed to be. His right foot tangled with hers, and suddenly, they were both going down. He reached out and grabbed her around the waist as they fell, pulling Emma on top of him. He let out a loud breath as he hit the floor. Emma reached out with her hands and pushed herself up halfway. She shook her head and found herself gazing down at a grinning Killian.

“Sorry, love, I can be a tad clumsy.”

Emma was suddenly aware of his hands still at her waist, of their bodies’ still pressed against each other, and of the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Suddenly, it felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and she scrambled hurriedly off him.

“I need five minutes,” she muttered as she hurriedly left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Emma’s heart was pounding as she leaned forward against the wall in the hallway. She glanced nervously behind her and was relieved that the cameras hadn’t followed her. She took deep breaths through her nose, then slowly exhaled through her mouth. She remembered a pair of brown eyes that also crinkled at the corners. What can a klutz like me do to get a dance lesson? Emma bit her lip and shook her head. No, she wasn’t letting her mind go there. She squared her shoulders and turned back towards the studio.

She also wasn’t going to be taken in by seemingly nervous smiles and flirting. Not again.

#csbb #csbb fic #cs ff #dancing with the stars au #modern au #enemies to friends to lovers #natural opposite #searching wardrobes

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agirlinjapan · 6 years

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Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School (Week 30)

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

Miss the last piece? Read it here!

Check out the RDG Translation twitter!

Help me pay for my next translation project on Ko-fi.

Now that I’m back from Japan, I can enjoy a lazy summer vacation to the fullest!... Or maybe it won’t be so lazy. With all this free time on my hands, I’ve been translating like crazy. During the school year, I’m lucky to get 10 or so RDG pages done in a month. In the past two weeks, I’ve translated over 60 pages.

Lots of translating time means lots of material for me to post. Therefore, as I announced last week, I’ll be posting new RDG every Sunday this month. I’m excited to get back onto a weekly schedule after two years of biweekly posting.

Once September comes around and school starts, I’ll be returning to the biweekly schedule, but let’s enjoy the summer while it’s still around. :)

We’re getting really close to the end of this book! Including this week, there are only 2 more installations left! We’re finishing RDG 5 next week!!

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 4: Choice Part 4 (2 of 2)

It was decided that the student body would gather in the lecture hall. The guests who hadn’t left, as well as the parents and guardians, were directed towards the cafeteria.

Apparently the stoves and other cooking appliances weren’t working either, but the day’s kitchen staff was luckily able to put together a meal that required no cooking. The students’ lunches consisted of premade bento boxes, bread, and rice balls—all foods that were easy to eat while moving. There was plenty to go around. The only problem was that no one could have imagined the entire school eating together in one place at one time.

It was chaos.

Seeing as the middle school students had also been gathered into the lecture hall with the high schoolers, there were many students who couldn’t find a chair to sit in. As a result, plenty of people had spilled out into the lounge area.

The Warring States era costumes were also causing problems. Many students found that they couldn’t sit down while maintaining good manners. Students were strewn across the floor eating their lunches. Flags, banners, and armor were haphazardly left everywhere. At a glance, the room really did look like a battle field. The scene had more of a Warring States era feel to it than the actual all school game had.

Many of the students had taken pieces of their armor off, but the teachers and student government were hesitant to cancel the second half of the games. Seeing as what had happened with the electronics was so odd, it might be dangerous for the students to disperse across the campus after making such a decision. There was a need to cautiously continue on with the original plan. After waiting for more information to come in, the adults went back and forth over what to do, taking up valuable time.

It was taking so long to decide what would happen next that Mayura and Manatsu went out to sit in the hallway. There, Manatsu was able to relay every last detail he had seen and heard since the games had begun. He talked about the man Miyuki knew, what had happened with Hayakawa, and Takayanagi’s surprising situation. He didn’t stop talking until he came to the end of the story.

The more Mayura heard, the more she couldn’t help but think that it had been a good thing Manatsu hadn’t gone with Miyuki into the alternate dimension. She knew that Masumi was there and that some sort of altercation was going on. She was just glad that Manatsu had come back to her. If something happened here, she would desperately need his help. It wasn’t just that she had wanted to see him.

“Sagara’s a better guy than I thought he was…”

As Mayura murmured this, Manatsu gave a small laugh and said quietly, “Didn’t I say that from the start? He even took dog Takayanagi with him. I wonder what Shinko was planning.”

“He was thinking about what he could do for Izumiko.”

“Yeah. I think Izumiko’s the one who turned Takayanagi into a dog, but I’m not sure.”

Mayura sat against the wall, her knees up. She gazed at her hands resting on the luxurious fabric of her hakama pants. Manatsu, in his loose kuroko outfit, had his legs spread out in front of him.

“…Tell me, Manatsu. Will I become the World Heritage Candidate? Is Masumi gone?” Mayura asked after a quiet moment. She continued after asking her question. “I thought this was the best way to do it. I thought becoming the Candidate would show our whole family that we have power even when we’re not together and we haven’t called Masumi. But do we not have that connection between him and us anymore? That promise we made when we were kids, the connection… if Masumi is gone for good, there won’t be anything left between him and us, will there?”

“When we got taller, so did he, right? Obviously we noticed that, but Masumi didn’t. That’s why our connection to him or between us won’t necessarily disappear. It’s just going to take a different shape,” Manatsu said, voicing the ideas he had mulled over countless times before. “I don’t think Masumi will disappear, never to be seen again. If I thought that, it would be the end, wouldn’t it? The next time he returns, he’ll be a little different from me. From you, too. That’s all. Those things happen, even to triplets, right?”

“I want to welcome him back… I hope I’ll be able to say that much to him. I want to see Sagara and Izumiko again, too. But I feel like I only have you and Masumi, right now.”

Mayura leaned forward, putting her chin on her knees. “I did something mean to Sagara today. It’s not a nice story. That’s why after hearing everything you just told me, I think Sagara’s capable of way more than I gave him credit for.”

Manatsu gazed at his sister, but he didn’t ask her to elaborate. “I like seeing you all upbeat and competitive, but I don’t really like it when you’re so busy. You get weird when you try too hard. It’s okay to do what you want to do. I’m not going to disappear that easily.”

“So you’re saying I should relax.” Mayura’s tone was sulky, but Manatsu still continued on.

“If and when I die, there’s other ways to go that are unrelated to my heart. It could be a traffic accident or a natural disaster or some other illness. What I’m saying is something has to happen eventually, so there’s no reason to worry any more than you have to. You should enjoy Grandpa trying to find a husband for you.”

“That’s not something I can enjoy…”

“But today you say Shinko in a new way. Our opinions of people are always changing. And it seems like there’s still time for us to change as people, too. As we change, it’s totally alright for us to check to make sure that the unchanging ties we have to other people are still there.”

After reflecting on her brother’s words for a moment, Mayura murmured, “If you think that, it’s alright, I guess. You seem so confident that we can fix everything, so maybe I shouldn’t worry. But if you really do think all those things you just said, we probably need to start making things right again now.”

Just then, the student president along with Hoshino and Okouchi appeared as they turned a corner into the hallway. Their eyes fell on the two sitting on the floor.

“Is this where you’ve been, Manatsu?” Hoshino asked. “Listen to this—you too, Mayura. The teachers decided to go on with the second battle game!”

Mayura and Manatsu stared at the two older students. They had been sure the game would be cancelled due to the time the electric problems had taken up. However, Honoka and the two second year boys would be putting their black, kuroko hoods back on much earlier than expected. Their faces would be hidden behind the veils, and they were ready to go back to judging.

“Can we still continue the game? Even with the current limitations?”

“The official decision is that it would be better to just get through the last game than to stop here,” Okouchi responded in what couldn’t be called a happy tone. “Giving the students free time would just cause their panic to rise again. Besides, there are rumors of ghostly happenings going around. We don’t know where that’s coming from, so we’re just going to let that be, though.”

“Ghost stories?”

“They’re a little more fantastical than that, apparently. People are saying there’s nothing beyond the school campus, and after today, the world’s going to end. There are people who wanted to prove that the stories were wrong, but apparently no one’s been physically able leave the campus. No one knows why, but they can’t do it.”

Even Mayura had to admit it was a scary story. However, she could see how such talk would occur when communication with the outside world had completely stopped.

“No one can seriously go beyond the gate?”

“I haven’t tried,” Honoka said, frowning. “The teams who were competing by the horse ring are more upset than the others. When we took rollcall there, there were also a few missing students. Some of the teachers went looking, but apparently they didn’t find them. They didn’t search all the way up the hill though, and there is a chance they may have left campus for some reason. But, Sagara and Izumiko are among the missing students. This is a huge blow to the student government.”

“There are a few rumors flying around about their disappearance,” Hoshino added. “For example, they fell in a hole into a different dimension, or got dragged away by the dead, or fell through time into the past. All delusional disasters, I’m sure.”

Mayura and Manatsu glanced at each other, and then Manatsu quickly stood up.

“Ah. Sorry. I have to get back to work.”

“Please do so. Even you first years are busy today,” Honoka agreed.

The student president was never one to be lenient, but Mayura couldn’t complain today. It was clear to see how overwhelmed Honoka was as she struggled through the day.

“If all the electronics aren’t fixed by the evening, everyone’s going to get even more frightened, and I think we’ll have a real panic on our hands,” Honoka went on. “We need to continue the game as soon as possible. We need to gather all the students who are willing to work as leaders.”

Okouchi was already calmer than he had been before. He cradled his precious, broken laptop in his arms.

“If it all broke without reason, there’s a chance it’ll all start working again without reason, too, right?” he asked. “There’s no reason to give up on the possibility that it’ll go back to the way it was before. We just have to wait.”

The final game was a simple matter. Seeing as it would be played as a melee, it was important that the judges took care in managing the game. They would use the open space in front of the classroom building, and would follow traditional “balloon popping” rules. The soldiers who were still “alive” would carry their team’s banners into the battle along with a balloon attached to the same pole. The balloons’ fates would be the fates of the soldiers. It would make quite a spectacle as the two teams crashed into one another.

According to reports, the attack and defense teams had received around the same points during the first game and still had about the same amount of soldiers remaining. The commanders in their restricting armor would carry the balloons that would determine the outcome of the game; theirs were worth more points than the regular soldiers’, and therefore the team who defended theirs the best would most likely win.

The third year middle schoolers, disheartened by how the day was going, roused themselves to protect their princess general. With the game beginning again, spirits rose and rumors were forgotten. However, when Mayura looked to find Takayanagi, the attack team general she was supposed to be facing off against, he was nowhere to be seen. In normal circumstances, she would have been happy about this, but today she found that she wasn’t pleased at all.

None of this really should be happening. Not when Izumiko and Sagara are somewhere dangerous instead of here at the game…

The clouds in the sky had grown thick without her noticing. It was only three o’clock in the afternoon, but it was dark and gloomy already as if dusk was approaching. Without the sun shining, the change from the morning’s weather was distinctly apparent.

It took much longer than expected to gather everyone outside, whether costumed or no. No one had considered how slowly people would move when they couldn’t hear directions over a loudspeaker. It was just like the Warring States era.

The students who had quickly moved into their armies eventually grew tired of waiting.

That’s when it happened.

An army made up of something completely other than students came down from the sports grounds on the hill.

Some students saw it immediately. Others did not see it at all. A murmuring of surprise and disbelief began to grow in the crowd.

At first, Mayura didn’t notice it either. However, the moment she saw it, she could not take her eyes off of what was coming. The wiggling human shadows looked so weak they were practically transparent, but they were definitely part of a Warring States era battle.

They didn’t look like anything from this world, though.

Knowing no matter what it was, it was bad, Mayura hurried to find Honoka. It wouldn’t be good at all if the person in charge of the entire game fell into panic over ghosts.

However, Honoka, located between the two student armies, was already watching the incoming forces, as were the students around her. Some of them were murmuring to each other, but as the seconds ticked by, the crowd steadily quieted. They stared blankly, their eyes glued to the scene. However, none of them seemed scared. Strangely, Mayura felt the same way. She had assumed she would be frightened upon seeing ghosts for the first time, but apparently, this was not the case.

The semi-transparent soldiers coming down the hill were certainly frightening enough. No matter how Mayura considered it, it was strange indeed that the entire school was silently watching the spectacle in front of them. If she had to choose which was the stranger sight, the approaching army of ghosts or the silent students, she was certain she’d pick the students.

…What will I do if we have to fight them?...

And what about all the other students around her, carrying balloons on their backs, ready to play a silly game?

Was this the same thing as a frog being unable to take its eyes off a snake? But Mayura was at a loss of what to do as well. It seemed like the only thing left to do was pray that they weren’t attacked.

Just then, she felt a familiar sensation beside her. When she looked over, Masumi was standing next to her.

“Huh?... Masumi?”

“I’m sorry, Mayura. I was fooling around.” Masumi’s tone was cheerful.

“What have you been doing?” Mayura asked. “Where’s Izumiko?”

“Oh, Miyuki chased me off.”

“So Izumiko turned you down?”

“Nah. I don’t think she’s really decided yet. Anyway, I came to protect you.”

After letting out a long sigh, Mayura finally found the ability to speak. “Welcome back, Masumi. I knew you’d return to me.”

“I know. That’s why I came back,” Masumi said.

“Bring Izumiko and Sagara back soon.”

“Even I can’t do that.” He nodded his head in the army’s direction. “Look at that,” he urged, his tone still light. “It’s just all the ghosts of Hachiouji Castle returning home. You’ll understand after they’re gone.”

The deceased soldier ghosts passed right in front of the students. As Masumi had said, they did not give the crowd even one look as they went by. It was as if they didn’t even see the group pressed shoulder to shoulder in their own army costumes. The ghosts simply continued on to the gate, fading into oblivion as they passed through it.

The students watched silently as the spectacle went by like onlookers at a parade. The whole thing felt like a dream.

After the last soldier had passed through the gate, and the students had turned their heads back towards the campus, they found something else had appeared without their knowledge while they had been focused on the procession.

A half transparent woman was standing in the middle of the open space near the sports grounds. She was dressed in a Warring States era over kimono, performing a solitary dance.

Is that Izumiko?...

Mayura squinted to get a better look, but she wasn’t sure. Seeing as the dancer was transparent, she couldn’t quite make out the color of her clothing or the designs on it. All the same, it looked very much like the outfit Izumiko had worn at the kimono demonstration. There was an open fan in her hand. When she turned it around, Mayura could see that one side of it was white. The dancing princess’s hair flowed far down her back, and her face had a soft paleness to it. It reminded Mayura more of Izumiko than anyone else she had ever seen.

The other students were beginning to notice the dancer and murmur among themselves. All the same, the crowd was still encompassed in the silence of watching an event happen. They all gazed on in rapt attention, holding their breaths.

“Tell me. Is that Izumiko?” Mayura whispered to Masumi.

“Quiet. You need to watch this,” he whispered back. “I bet you never thought you’d get a chance to see Izumiko dance.”

Mayura knew exactly what Masumi meant. Izumiko was not the sort of girl who performed in front of crowds to bathe in attention. She had never once heard Miyuki mention anything about her dancing, either. However, when she realized that this was Izumiko, something deep inside of her chest relaxed.

Izumiko is special. She’s different from everyone else. There’s probably no one else like her…

The faint, goddess-like figure continued to dance alone in the one beam of sunlight that had made it through the cloudy sky.

As the slight figured continued her careful movements, her long hair and sleeves suddenly began to flutter, and the hem of her kimono gently rose off the ground. For an instant, everyone was blinded by the whiteness of her fan. Then she continued to silently move her feet…

Her movements repeated over and over. There were times when the onlookers could see her raise her hand to her lips, but she never made a sound. The students could not take their eyes off the simple movements. Watching her was like an invitation into a dream world.

“…Beautiful,” Mayura said, her voice quiet. “I think she’s letting you know that she doesn’t want to be with you.”

Masumi didn’t answer. However, he seemed to smile.

The students lost all track of time as they watched the unearthly girl’s dance. They had no sense of how many minutes had gone by. How many hours. But then suddenly, something snapped, and the end was instantly there.

Everyone heard a familiar mechanical sound began to fill the air; the beating sound of rotors. Up until now, no one had been looking at the sky. Now though, everyone raised their heads almost as if they were waking up.

A helicopter was flying above the school.

Keep reading!

#rdg #red data girl #rdg my longest day of school #rdg 5 #rdg 5 week 30 #translation

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