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The leisurely clap of a set of hands set the music in bloom, and the rhythmical tapping of feet was soon heard as a team of students engaged in playful choreography. They were paired in two, performing with eagerness and whimsy as the instructor walked past and observed everyone’s stance. He corrected them at times, grabbing onto their arms or legs to adjust their angle and build a better pose; one that showed more conviction and vigor. Sometimes, he lead by example, and straightened his back to show what posture they needed to hold, and for how long.
He was never strict with them. Given his status, he most likely lacked the authority to be more demanding, but this was why the students always prefered classes coached by Daichi Shijima.
They warmed up by doing stretching exercises for the first ten minutes, and closed doing the same. However, he did give students the freedom to leave during the latter exercise. Daichi was instructed to follow the formula handed to him, so that was what he focused on doing. Teaching students how to dance, while it was not his own choreography, was a rewarding experience in and of itself. He stood amongst the students and chatted with them to see which ones were interested in staying behind to do some extra activities, but it was hard to convince them they needed more practice when there were better things to do. Daichi did not blame them for rather wanting to go home and play videogames. That was his own plan for the night once his shift was over. A female student ended up grabbing the doorframe before she left, and peeked her head into the dance room to ask a question.
“Shijima, do you have your own class?” Daichi was kneeling down in front of the stereo as he heard her voice echo through the empty room. He looked over his shoulder, and blinked.
“My own class? What do you mean?” She shyly took a step back inside.
“Well, you were here today just because Satoshi was sick, right? Are you a full-time teacher here, or just a sub? I’m thinking about transferring, and you’d be a pretty good teacher to pick.” His lips parted as fast as they closed. Disappointment was laced between his words as he picked up the stereo to put it back in storage.
“I’m not experienced enough to teach you like Satoshi. Thanks for asking, though.” She seemed like she wanted to ask a follow-up question, but she bit her tongue and waved him goodbye one last time before rushing out.
“...A teacher? Me?” He chuckled bitterly, and brought his hand up to the back of his head “No. Who’d hire someone… this incompetent.” He was about to put the stereo back in storage, but paused when he had to turn and stare at the long wall-mirror. What his reflection showed was a young man in a black pair of tights that cut into his waist a little more than what was comfortable, and an oversized top that only covered his chest. To anyone else, he did come across as a teacher, but Daichi could barely hold his gaze for long before he stared at the floor. The floor, and two black socks he could spare to lose. Everyone else had left. There was no harm self-indulging for a bit with the room all to himself.
He put the stereo back down, and grabbed onto the railing to remove his socks one at a time. This was a health code violation, but they cleaned the floor every morning, so there was no harm practicing alone if he was the last one to leave. He played the seventh track; a classical piece that was upbeat with strings of violins and the pounding of drums. His fingers intertwined as he walked to the center of the room to push his hands over his head and stretch.
It was so easy to close his eyes and hear the atmosphere change to the hum of the music, and for it to synch up with that of his own heartbeat. He could have sworn he heard cheers in the background, possibly an after effect of the concert piece he had played, but it gave the illusion he was performing live on stage in front of a crowd. He fell to his knees and bent backwards to put his palms on the floor and cartwheel backwards until he was up on his feet again. It was an old routine that he still remembered quite well, despite how little he practiced his own choreography.
With a light bounce in his steps, he kicked off to do a one-foot somersault, before letting the music carry him down to the floor. He wrapped his arms around his chest and leaned back with his heart hammering in his chest. The floor was soft and helped give him some momentum, but he momentarily forgot that this was not a gym for gymnastics, but a studio for dancers. Regardless, he incorporated his fear into the routine, and performed a split before pulling himself up on his feet again to continue dancing. The beat of the drum helped him time his steps, and he matched the flow of his upper body to the tune of the violin, a motion ranging from chaotic to elegant depending on the amount of strings that were in play.
He let his hands slide down his chest, down to his very feet so he could execute a hand-stand before changing into an elbow stand, keeping one leg stretched straight while the other curved for balance. It was not long before the music faded, and he felt an overwhelming urge to simply sprawl out on the floor to rest. Doing something this excessive after years of not having trained hard enough proved a lot more difficult on him than he thought it would be. He heaved himself up by the help of the wall rail, and breathed out a sigh of relief. That he still had the stamina to pull through his own practices was remarkable.
“You’re amazing.” He reacted before he realized there was someone else in the room, talking to him.
“Thank y- what!?” It was sheer luck that he still stood on his feet, keeping his hand curled around the railing not to fall. “H-Hey, you can’t just walk into someone else’s class randomly like that!” The other man raised his eyebrows. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned in to take a closer look.
“I don’t see a class.” Daichi sighed and leaned down to turn the music off before the eight track started playing.
“Yeah, well, what can ya do when everyone leaves early to play that new RPG that just came out.” There was always a new RPG coming out. Daichi guessed this one was a lot more fun than the one that was hyped up before it, simply judging by how few students stayed behind. He saw a shadow over his form, and turned to find the other man staring down at him, arms still crossed.
“My name’s Hibiki Kuze, by the way,” There was a pleasant smile on his lips. To Daichi, this guy was nothing more than a peeping tom with bad taste. Do people even knock on doors anymore? He supposed it was his own fault for leaving it open. He faintly recalled seeing this black-haired guy teach another class. He was probably a full-time coach at the studio. He fit the bill to a T. Toned arms, flat stomach, and thighs Daichi tried not to stare at because he almost glossed over the fact that Hibiki was still talking.
“I haven’t seen you around. Are you a new teacher here?” Daichi pulled the stereo up and put it on the cluttered desk in the storage before closing the door and using his keys to lock it.
“Oh, no, just a substitute,” He chuckled, and shrugged dismissively. “ You know, the person they call when they have no one better to put in the lineup, heh,” Hibiki hummed with narrow eyes. There was a glint of disbelief in his eyes.
“That’s weird.”
“...What is?”
“You don’t have the physique of someone who’s just doing this for fun.”
“W-Well,” His cheeks turned rosy. “-thank you? I think?” He turned his head slightly to stare back in the mirror and reevaluate whether it was a compliment or not. He did not coach people in this studio often unless no one else could show up, but he still had a fit figure, despite not working out as regularly as he should. Compared to how he was like five years ago however, he had gained some weight that he could stand to lose if he put his mind to it. He was not sure what good it would do if he was set on not performing live on stage.
“I hope I can see you around more often.” Hibiki’s positive attitude and welcoming smile was a refreshing change to how people usually acted around him, so he returned the gesture, and smiled back.
“Yeah, same here. I mean, I’m just a substitute so… probably not, but,”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Daichi,”
“Yeah, see ya tomo- wait, wait, wait, wait! I literally just told you I’m a substitute! I don’t think I’ll even be here tomorrow!” Hibiki chuckled and waved Daichi goodbye before stepping out of the room. “H-hey, are you even listening!?” He was left standing with his keys in one hand, and a whole lot of confusion in the other.
“...Well. That. Sort of happened. I guess?”
He had no idea that keeping the door open during one performance was going to lead to an intimate partnership.
