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Bra’s dance classes had proven to be admirable and fruitful, she was proud of herself, her hard work was paying off and she was improving. Her choice of dancing had been a bold one for this back to school season, considering her family’s interests being far from the arts, but she was supported and encouraged nonetheless.
For the first few days, right after entering the new 'intermediate' level, she worked on her own after the classes, but it had proved difficult to do anything without guidance. Just seeing herself in the mirror to correct her pose wasn’t enough, she needed help, so she mentally reviewed everyone she could have access to.
As talented as her mom was in most fields, physical and graceful coordination was not one of her prized skills.
Trunks was of no help, he was a brute and his dancing skills were ridiculous and only matched Goten's goofiness.
The other Trunks, the one she used to call ‘big sister’ because of his long hair, might have had pointers. Bra knew he played music on occasion, but she had no way of contacting him and doubted his more delicate nature meant he knew anything about dancing. Hoping for an unannounced visit was a stretch, and her eight-year-old mind didn’t consider the Dragon Balls could be used for such a frivolous wish.
Grandma could have given her pointers... but her grandparents were on a tour, enjoying their retirement.
What about Vegeta? Bra’s dad didn’t come to the classes, but he watched over her trying on her own on occasion, especially right after he had done one of his Gravity Room training sessions.
At the end of her rope, Bra was frustrated and getting angry, but thankfully that day was one of which Vegeta was observing.
“Daddy, can you help me?” The little girl eventually asked, and Vegeta stepped closer. “I don’t know how to do this,” she complained in frustration, trying to cross legs and lift herself on her tippy toes. On her pointes.
“You didn’t warm up properly.” Vegeta sternly remarked, and Bra flinched.
“Ah!! I’m sorry Daddy..”
Vegeta shook his head and indicated down, so she’d sit on the wooden floor. She promptly obeyed.
“Show me what you’re supposed to be doing,” he warmly ordered.
Bra nodded, asked the computer to replay the video a couple of more times the tutorials of the jumps she wanted to improve on. She pointed at the section that was hardest for her, and how she couldn’t go from one post to the other. Vegeta watched it intensely, while helping his daughter stretch and warm up properly.
As the videos played and Vegeta got a gist of what Bra was training for, the father focused on making sure his precious daughter was ready for intense physical activity. Pushing her back on the floor, spreading her legs a little more little by little, having her roll her ankles and wrists, her knees and elbows, her shoulders and hips, holding her foot higher and higher little by little.
“Now you’re ready. Step one.”
Bra did the first move, slowly, focused, seeing herself in the mirror, and Vegeta corrected her pose, pushing her foot just a little with his to challenge her flawed balance.
“The video shows your weight should be a little more on your right foot,” he explained, and did the same pose, then started the next one. “The next movement needs the first’s momentum.”
“What’s momentum?” Bra had been raised to ask questions when something wasn't clear. 'Proof of intelligence is admitting not knowing everything,' her grandpa had told her.
Vegeta had to think about how to explain the physics of momentum in an easy to understand way, with an example the little girl knew well. He kept quiet for a short instant, a frown on his face. This was something Bulma excelled at, but him? Not so much. Eventually he found an example.
“.. On the swings. Do you remember what happens when I stop pushing you?”
“I continue swinging on my own!”
“And how do you do that?”
“I pull my legs back when I'm moving this way,” Bra widely gestured backwards. “And then, I push them in front of me when I go that way,” she gestured forward, imitating the movement.
“And what happens if you don’t move your legs?”
“I slow down little by little.”
“But if I don’t give you your initial push, does moving the legs work?”
“Nooo it doesn’t, you need to pull me faaaar back, then push me hard!” Bra giggled, she loved going to the swings with her daddy who was the best at pulling her higher than any other dad out there.
“That’s momentum: the ‘moment’ continues. You feed the initial movement when you fold and extend your legs.” Vegeta explained.
Bra gave it some thought, remembering exactly what she needed to do for swinging to continue after the initial push that her daddy gave. To keep the momentum going.
“I get it!”
“Each movement feeds the next movement,” he confirmed with a little smirk. Truly his daughter was bright, she’d get a hang of it easily. “Step one, then step two now.”
Bra obeyed, and with each step, her father helped her, holding her hand to keep the momentum going. He did some of the movements himself to demonstrate weight distribution and help her visualize more. And touch, and try to test his balance too.
The little girl realized she had forgotten how agile, flexible and gracious her daddy could be, and how his lean frame actually could be the one of a dancer.
“Dancing is a little like fighting! Coordination, working with a partner, position and balance!” She exclaimed when the truth hit her. She beamed at her discovery and felt on top of the world. She should have asked for her daddy’s help much earlier.
Vegeta’s pride creeped on his face. He didn’t need to tell her, she came to the conclusion herself, and he couldn’t be happier.
“Let’s make it more challenging and rehearse in the Gravity Room, Eschalot.”
