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Ena had never been fond of dancing.
She could handle most of what came with being of nobility well enough. Keeping her back straight, keeping a gentle smile on her face. The attention, the constant looks, the almost reverent treatment she received from those who were considered below her station; she could take all of that in stride. It was all she had ever known, after all.
She remembered the fights she had used to have with her father, though. Throwing paintbrushes and shouting until her throat was sore, slamming the door to her room until afternoon turned to night and she would slink back to the dinner table, face hot with shame, her place at the table already set and waiting for her. As a noblewoman, her father insisted, there was no point for her to pursue art as she did. Ena still scoffed at the notion to this day – as if she hadn’t been told stories of her father’s own artisanship since she was young.
That was the problem with being of nobility. There were so many expectations of the way she had to speak, act, conduct herself, expectations of how she should live her life. If there were two things she resented about being of the Shinonome family, the first and most prominent was that. Dancing was the second.
It was something she had never understood. She could never figure out exactly what the point was of these parties. As far as she was concerned, they were nothing but an avenue for strangers to pointlessly prance back and forth, sharing shallow conversation they’d easily forget the next day. It irritated her that her parents insisted on holding and attending these sorts of parties as often as they did. There was no opportunity for her to refuse, of course. It would be unbefitting of a lady such as her to do so.
She rolled her eyes at those words, leaning back against the wall of the ballroom, arms crossed. It was just as unbefitting, she was sure, to stand away from the commotion as she always did. In the past, she’d tried to be a part of the dancing, but it had only cemented her dislike for the affair. She had long since given up on that.
This night, though, was a little different than the others. Loathe as she was to admit it, there was a certain amount of eager anticipation that mixed with her usual apathy towards that day’s dance, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from scanning the crowds. She was trying to pick someone out, intentionally or not. The realization of it made her bite her lip in embarrassment, and she forced herself to stare straight ahead, sighing as the music droned on around her.
“Ena?”
Just as she did, though, her head snapped to the direction of that voice. Her instinct told her to smile, politely, but she found that the corners of her mouth had inadvertently turned up before she could.
She drew in a slow inhale, and opened her mouth to speak.
The first thing she had felt for Tsukasa was indifference. Not much changed in the crowd of the elite that attended the parties, after all. Adults grew older, grayer, steps on the dance floor slowing and faces developing wrinkles. As their children grew older, too, they began to attend, their inexperience visible next to the older and more experienced. Ena had been one of those children, of course; but she had grown up just like the rest.
Still, though, the faces she saw were largely the same, and as she began to see them more she became more and more familiar with them. As she grew from a child into a teenager, then one on the verge of adulthood, she had become able to separate noble family from noble family, different characteristics assigned to each.
Before she had truly met Tsukasa, he had been nothing but another one of those nobles. A Tenma. She had learned to distinguish them by their strikingly golden hair, fading darker at its tips, and by the beaming smile that each of them seemed to share.
She had first seen Tsukasa dancing with his sister. Neither of them could have been particularly old at the time; she couldn’t remember the details anymore. He and his sister had been laughing together, sharing in a sloppy waltz as if they were the only ones in the hall. It might have annoyed Ena a little to watch it. In any case, it had been nothing but a passing realization, one that had faded from her view as soon as she turned back to her own dance partner, whoever it had been back then.
As she continued to attend these gatherings, though, she continued to notice Tsukasa, from time to time. The Tenma family, she guessed, was a mainstay at them, as much as the Shinonome family was, and so she caught glimpses of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye on occasion.
Tsukasa’s face, to Ena, was a familiar one. Still, though, being approached by him was new, uncomfortably so.
She had been standing on the hall’s outskirts, away from the dancers, as she had done recently. It wasn’t likely that Tsukasa would be stepping away for any other reason, she thought. He was there for her. She wondered why. She wanted to ask.
“Ah.” Instead, she plastered a gentle smile onto her face, over the frown she had been wearing. “Tsukasa, isn’t it? Of the Tenmas. I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Indeed not.” Tsukasa gave her a slight bow for effect. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss Shinonome.”
“Just Ena is okay.” The line left her mouth with practiced precision. Conversations like these were the norm at these gatherings; she’d lost count of how many times she had introduced herself or been introduced to someone else. By this point, it was as if she was reading from a script.
Tsukasa’s next words, too, were no surprise to her. He extended a hand out, palm up, a welcoming smile on his face. “Well, Ena.” He cocked his head slightly. “Shall we dance?”
If Ena was honest, the prospect of it wasn’t a pleasant one. She had long tired of dancing, especially with strangers and the painfully dry small talk they would bring.
She would have loved to say no.
“Of course,” she said instead, gently laying her own hand into his. “Let’s dance.”
The dance hall itself was crowded, but not enough so that the two of them couldn’t slot themselves in. Ena hooked her arm around Tsukasa, and he responded in kind, taking a small step so that his feet were in line with hers. They were practiced motions, Ena could tell, even more so once the two of them actually began to dance. As much as Ena disliked dancing, she could handle herself well enough. Tsukasa, it seemed, was no slouch either.
“You’re a very good dancer,” she said, turning herself in time with the music, matching Tsukasa’s own motion. She figured that she should make conversation. It would be better, at least, than a dance spent in awkward silence, although both options seemed reproachable to her.
Tsukasa let out a bark of laughter. “It’s only natural for someone of my status, is it not?” In a practiced move, he extended his arm, and Ena took a graceful step backwards, resisting the temptation to let the twinge of annoyance she felt show on her face. “You are as well, of course. Not that I didn’t know it already! I’ve seen you around, before.”
Ena hummed in acknowledgement. Already, she had begun to build a description of Tsukasa’s character in her mind. He was loud. Confident, to say the least. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from her previous knowledge of him, but she didn’t quite feel surprised.
“I’ve seen you as well,” she said. “You’ve danced with your sister before, haven’t you? The two of you look very alike.”
“Is that so?” Tsukasa grinned. “Seeing you up close, you look quite like your brother, as well.”
As Ena tried to turn and take a step to the side, she felt one of her feet collide with the other, sending her stumbling; she would have fallen, had she not been in Tsukasa’s arms. The surge of embarrassment coursing through her was only compounded by that, and instinctively, she pushed him away, the dance forgotten.
“Huh?!” she stammered. “I don’t look like him at all! What-” She bit her tongue, now slightly embarrassed for a different reason. She’d let herself slip, she realized, in front of a near-stranger; it was a simple comment, but somehow, it had caught her off guard. With a deep breath, she steadied herself upright, correcting the scowl that had made its way onto her face.
Tsukasa looked surprised, almost if he was trying to hold in a laugh. Ena grit her teeth at the sight of it, unable to quite rid herself of the frown.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, offering her hand again. “Come on. Let’s keep going.” Tsukasa laughed in earnest, then, hooking his arm back around Ena’s as the two of them slowly began to dance again.
Even as Ena struggled to maintain a neutral expression, Tsukasa seemed to never lose his smile; it only made it feel more humiliating. She guessed that it was her real personality she had shown to Tsukasa, but she would have preferred to maintain a veil of politeness, reserving her true colors only for her friends, for Akito. Now, with her veil taken away, she felt somehow exposed, uncomfortably so.
She was suddenly all too conscious of Tsukasa’s hand around her torso, feeling as if it could burn through the stiff fabric of her gown. The motions of dancing she’d practiced since she was young were now foreign.
“I’m sorry. I lost my cool for a moment.” She tried, again, to speak with the same level tone she had before, but it rung hollow even to her own ears.
Despite that, though, Tsukasa shook his head. “There’s no need to apologize. If anything, I’m thankful that I was able to get to know you better.”
“Thankful…?” Ena furrowed her brows as she looked up at Tsukasa, repeating the word to herself internally, over and over again. It was strange to think about. In the past, she’d only been brushed off as rude or uncaring if she ever dropped the pretense of formality. But Tsukasa’s declaration and the tone of his voice seemed to be different from those times. He was still smiling, but something had shifted, if only slightly, away from the boisterous and confident nature he had previously taken on.
She wondered, for a moment, whether the two of them were more similar than she had thought.
A gentle tug on her hand pulled her out of her thoughts. She’d missed the timing to make a turn, she realized, and she quickly took a step to fall in line with Tsukasa again.
It still felt a bit uneasy, dancing with him. The feeling of his hand still weighed heavily on her mind. But, she realized, it wasn’t a feeling that she hated.
“Tsukasa,” Ena said, exhaling. “I wasn’t sure if I would see you again.”
Tsukasa grinned. “I can see that you’re glad to, at least.”
A familiar annoyance surged through Ena’s body; the sensation was easy to remember, from when they had danced at the last party, when they had met for the first time. His loud voice and his overconfident demeanor had that sort of effect on her. Her mouth twitched. She had been smiling, before, but she wasn’t sure anymore what sort of expression she had on her face.
“So. Why are you even approaching me again, anyways?” She tilted her head, staring pointedly at Tsukasa, who seemed unperturbed.
He shrugged. “Isn’t it natural to extend a hand to a lady in need?”
“That’s it?” Ena rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but somehow, she felt disappointment needling at her chest. “If that’s all, then you can just go, it’s not like I’m–”
“Wait, wait!” When she looked at Tsukasa again, he was waving his hands as if to cut her off. She pressed her lips together. “It’s not just that. I said before, that I’d seen you around, didn’t I? To tell you the truth, when I saw the expression on your face…” His voice had shifted again, Ena realized. It had lost the raucous quality she had learned to associate with him.
“I suppose it reminded me a little bit of myself,” he continued. “And that’s what made me want to approach you.”
Ena’s brow furrowed. It had just been a passing thought, back then, but maybe she was right. Maybe the two of them were similar, after all.
“In any case,” he continued, holding out his hand, “shall we dance?”
Ena stared at his hand. She considered, for a moment, rejecting his offer. It would be just like it had been when they met, she figured, discomfort and embarrassment in store. She could escape it all, end it all with just a few words.
But she had caught another glimpse of it again, that slightly different smile. Something about it drew her in, captivated her.
Despite herself, she laid her hand in Tsukasa’s again, taking a step forwards towards the dance floor.
Ena hated dancing. She hated the repetitive motion, the shallowness and bore of it all. But if she was completely honest with herself, she didn’t think she could hate dancing with Tsukasa.
She hummed. “Yes. Let’s.”
Tsukasa’s smile only grew as they interlocked themselves into their positions.
“I, too, am glad that I can dance with you again,” he said, puffing his chest out.
It was familiar enough to Ena, now, this act of boisterous confidence. She clicked her tongue. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” But she knew, this time, that she was smiling.