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Father-daughter dances were one of the many things she didn’t get to do as a child, along with having actual birthday parties with her family and her dad coming to her ballet recital. If she couldn’t dance with him then she could dance by herself, she had told herself, but eventually gave up ballet a year into elementary school.
Sometimes she’d look up people dancing just to feel a spark, to get that light and passion to dance again without the heavy reminder of her father bearing on her shoulders. Once on her way back from work she saw a young girl laughing and being spun around by her dad, they both looked so joyful and the girl had wiggled to the melody.
Just being there in the streets and dancing along to some old song she didn’t know made those two people happy. Fuyumi experienced envy, yes, though more so sadness as the picture of those two turned into dad and her dancing instead.
But it wasn’t important, dancing was something she didn’t really have time to do considering her job and her social life with the few close friends she had. Still, a part of her wanted to have that with her father, to be the laughing child she once was and forget how twisted the reality of her home situation was.
She rarely ever danced since elementary school and when she did, it was when it was clean-up time for the kids at work. Music wasn’t exactly a hobby she indulged in, she preferred to put on a cheesy drama or read a book. To dance like the people in the videos was the wishful thinking of a girl who’s father didn’t make an effort to even attend her ballet classes or performances.
Fuyumi was, to say the least, relieved to get home. The kids had driven her up the wall more than they usually did by making it their duty to scribble every profanity their tiny heads could think of on her desk, so she stayed late to clean up to get all the crayon stains out. Exhausted, she practically melted into her couch the second her head hit the cushion.
“Long day?” A smooth voice inquired, she made the effort to raise an eyebrow at the man who had suddenly loomed over her, his lips turned up in a sympathetic smile. Fuyumi groaned, rubbed her eyes and mumbled a ‘yeah’. Sako at this point in time looked like a dreamboat with the light coming from the kitchen reflecting over his face. She wanted to kiss him but moving didn’t feel like a very fun option so she stayed where she was.
“When’d you come home?” She asked and he only winked and went around the couch to sit beside her.
“Not long before you came along, dearest.” He wrapped a hand around her waist and fiddled with her hair, to which she snickered at and ruffled his own brunette curls. Once she was next to him, it became aware to her that he smelled different. Like roses, or was it a new cologne? She sniffed the air and he laughed, catching on. “New cologne.”
“What’s the special occasion, Mr. Fancypants?” She teased. Sako put a finger to her lips and shushed her.
“In time, starlet, you shall see what I’ve prepared.” He replied and retracted his hand from her hair and flexed his prosthetic, looking at it hesitantly as if he were nervous. “Although it might be best we do it now before this hunk of rusting pieces gets too stiff.” He murmured. Fuyumi tilted her head and pondered what in the world he had in mind. Now that she thought about it, the entire place smelled like roses. What was he up to?
“Atsuhiro,” she chided. “What’re you doing?” Sako shrugged innocently and smiled, his damned charming smile that left her weak in the knees. She pursed her lips and tugged on the collar of his shirt, wiping the grin off his face with a tiny kiss. “I don’t know what you’re up to but if it’s watching another Western black and white film on the floor I’m out.”
“That was when the power went out and the heater didn’t work, it was the only film I had downloaded! It couldn’t have been that atrocious,” he protested, not in the slightest upset. She winced as she recalled that winter day, the storm was so bad it completely wiped out the entire neighborhood’s electricity and internet connection. Sako, being the knight in shining armor he was, had downloaded a film and suggested they watch without knowing what it was even about. Needless to say it was terrible and Fuyumi was not one to say such things about others’s work.
“Hey, for all I know you could have a collection of those waiting to torture me with!” She shot back and he flicked his wrist, playfully looking her over.
“Perhaps I do. But not this time, no. I have something in store for you that I think you may like, just don’t go into the kitchen.” He said and clasped her tiny hands in his larger, nimble ones. “Stay here and come out when I say, alright?”
She nodded and anxiously closed her eyes, ideas popping into her mind as Sako slunk away with a certain expression plastered onto his face. Rose cologne meant fancy- even though he always dressed like he was visiting a queen- so he must be doing something classy or elegant. Singing, candlelight dinner? Or was it a gift? Her leg bounced in anticipation.
“Ready!” He called from across the room and she opened her eyes and got up. Her bare feet touched something soft and she almost jumped until she saw what it was- a petal, a rose petal. “I forgot to mention to watch your step, these flowers were straight from the bouquet so they could be thorny.” Fuyumi laughed lightly at that, minding his words and carefully taking steps around the petals that led her to exactly where he said, the kitchen. She was a little bashful to admit that her jaw dropped when she saw what he had done.
The shelves were hung with ruby red flowers that strung all across the ceiling and the counter that Sako stood at held a record player, ancient but pleasing to look at. The floors were polished clean and slow jazz music sounded from the record player, she gasped and rushed to hug her boyfriend.
“Patience, my love. Do you know what I’ve attempted to make?” He chuckled and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. She knit her brows together since no, she didn’t, but she loved the flowers and the things he made to make her smile, even if she hadn’t a clue what he was plotting. “I would like to dance with you, if you would take me to be your partner?” He asked, almost shyly and brushed his non-robotic finger over her cheek.
She squealed, utter joy and excitement swelling in her heart and she leaped into his arms, laughing into the crook of his neck. “Yeah! I mean, yes, I’d love to dance with you,” she giggled and squeezed him tight. He hugged her back and she let go.
“Wonderful! Shall we tango? Or would you prefer Waltz?” He suggested, ready to adjust the record player. Fuyumi paled as it just hit her that she did not know how to dance. Of course he knew, he was such a sophisticated gentleman from somewhere fancy and she never got to “groove” with her friends or father.
She could twirl around and poorly do a rendition of the robot, but the last time she danced with another person was senior prom, and all she did was move awkwardly with some guy who was definitely wasted. She felt the humiliating pang of embarrassment stab her in the back and she shifted her weight on her feet.
“Wait, I can’t do any of that, I’ve never danced-danced with anyone before, I’d give you early arthritis by squashing your toes,” she blurted out. “My dad didn’t teach me to dance, which is weird because that’s what daughters and dads do, right? Nope, can’t tango or moonwalk. Wow, I need to stop talking.” She inhaled at the last bit, cringing at herself.
Atsuhiro blinked and broke into a grin, not a trace of mockery on his face. He set the record player off and instead took his phone out, tapping and scrolling through something until he seemed satisfied and pressed a button. From the speaker came slow, sultry jazz that almost instantly made her relax, just a bit.
In a heartbeat, one of Sako’s hands was in hers and the other rested on her waist. She yelped and flushed, her body instinctively putting her own palm on his chest. Atsuhiro was so much taller than her he had to bend his knees a bit to hold her.
“We don’t need to do any of that, starlet. Your father is missing out on a blessed opportunity to dance with the most stunning woman I have ever met, so I’m one lucky bastard to be here right now.” He whispered and she couldn’t stop the way her lip trembled and she buried her face into his chest.
“Thank you.” She said, beginning to sway with him. He matched her movements and even twirled her around, the two of them not bothering to wipe the same stupid grin they shared. She seemed to lose herself in the melody and more importantly, in him. Here, with him, she was just happy. She didn’t want her father to dance with her anymore, he lost his chance. She’d much rather slow dance with a man whom she trusted. That was better than any video she’d seen.