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The announcement came at the end of class, just before Idia Shroud had planned to slip away. It was of course, on one of the rare days he was obligated to show up in class in person.
Professor Trein was speaking, and Idia felt more and more like he should have attended via tablet. If he had, he’d have logged off already and could pretend he hadn’t heard about the dance.
A school dance in three weeks for second years and up. Attendance was strongly encouraged for students, and mandatory for Housewardens. With the look the Professor had shot him, they meant it.
He’d see about that. Idia had managed to avoid most social functions at Nightraven since his debut as a freshman. With some…unfortunate lottery and Dragon-driven exceptions.
Around the room, everyone started talking excitedly.
Extroverts all.
The only kind of people who liked social events; with people.
In person.
With music.
Premo concerts were different. He could hide in his hoodie in the crowd, and no one cared if you looked like a dork. Everyone was jumping around and acting like idiots anyway. That wasn't all, either...something else about this upcoming calamity tickled his brain.
The date.
Idia fumbled for his phone beneath the table, fingers flying across the screen. Confirmation hit him like a DPS Crit.
The Abyssal Frost event in Sea of the Stars, one of his favorite gatcha games.
Limited-time SSR. Double drop rates. Special story chapter unlock. His silver-haired tsundere husbando was calling for him.
The dance was scheduled to begin the day the server went live…and with the time difference between Sage’s Island and the origin country of Mirrorland? The exact HOUR the dance started. 7PM SIT was midnight EMT. All of their events started at midnight.
This was not a coincidence. This was divine punishment, and Idia wasn’t sure who he’d pissed off. What could he have possibly done to deserve this?
…Other than Overblot, and try to suck everyone into the underworld? But even that doesn’t deserve this. None of the other guys who overblotted were punished for it. It wasn’t fair.
Idia lowered his head to the table and groaned softly into his sleeve.
He didn’t know how to dance; hell, he didn’t want to learn how to dance.
And even if he did, dancing required people. Physical proximity. The kind where someone could see the way his hands shook, the way his thoughts scattered. Close enough he wouldn’t be able to ignore them when they started ripping on his looks, his lame dance moves. Worse…the kind where someone might try to make eye contact.
No, He wasn’t going. Not even if Ortho asked. He would convince Ortho it was bad for his mental health, pretend he got sick, lock himself in Ignihyde, grind the event, and emerge only when it was over.
Simple.
Unfortunately, Vil Schoenheit did not believe in simplicity, nor did he care about Idia’s Husbando.
***
Two days later, Idia was called to stay behind at the Housewarden meeting..
He considered ignoring Vil, but a twinge of guilt remembering the vain, statuesque man looking old and wrinkled after saving Grim…and Ortho from being swallowed by the underworld made him pause.
“Ugh…I hate feeling guilty.”
He shuffled back into the meeting room, hood up, eyes down, posture arranged into a defensive huddle.
Vil stood at the front of the room with the clipboard he’d used all meeting to lay out the plans for the dance with Rosehearts. Beside him, leaning against the window, arms folded, was Jamil Viper.
Idia’s internal CPU overheated instantly.
Why was he still here? And had he looked like that the whole meeting? Idia had been trying not to look at the Scarabia Vice-warden for reasons. It was always a struggle when he was filling in for Al’Assim. Today it was worse because it was warm out, and sweltering in the meeting room.
Jamil was in his dorm uniform, something they all wore during the meetings, but that was the problem. The Scarabia uniform left his arms exposed, and the peek of his collarbones was almost too much for Idia when he caught them through his tablet. In person? It was like a constant charm effect, slowly eating away at the wall Idia built between his mind and his feelings.
Jamil’s expression was neutral, bordering on faintly annoyed. He looked like someone who had been informed he was required to complete a mildly inconvenient task and intended to get it over with with ruthless efficiency.
So…Daily Jamil. But also the way he was looking at Idia as if he was the task? +5 efficiency.
The wall crumbled, and it was all he could do to keep his hair under control.
Idia’s crush—which he had classified under “terminal and hopeless” months ago—flared painfully.
He had always admired Jamil, even though he’d never admit it. The quiet competence, the sharp eyes that missed nothing, always planning. The subtle curve of a smile that rarely reached full bloom. The way he held himself when Kalim wasn’t around…The way he treated NPCs like they meant nothing.
Which only made this worse because Idia was pretty sure that’s all he was in Jamil’s life.
Vil adjusted his gloves. “Shroud. The dance committee has identified a concern.”
Idia braced himself; he knew what was coming and rehearsed his answer.
“Yeah, sorry, I can’t dance. Why don’t you just have me stay in my room and Ortho stand in? I’ll just be an embarrassment anyway.”
“You,” Vil continued, “do not know how to dance properly. It would reflect poorly on the institution, especially since the dance is a joint effort between ourselves and…Royal Sword.”
Idia didn’t miss the subtle sneer when the rival school was mentioned, and he didn’t blame Schoenheit in the slightest. They were a bunch of asswipes over there.
“Yeah, sorry, I can’t dance. Why don’t I just.—” He was interrupted by a sharp look from the Pomfiore Housewarden.
“It would reflect badly on our school if a freshman were to represent an entire dorm at this event, when the event is limited to those second year and up. Therefore, I have appointed Viper to instruct you.”
Idia’s brain shut down. “W-Wha—?”
“You will accept,” Vil said crisply, eyes flashing violet. “No excuses. Lessons will begin immediately. Viper?”
Jamil’s gaze shifted to Idia, measured and unreadable. “Understood.” He uncrossed his arms and headed for the door, pausing next to Idia. “Don’t make me chase you down. I’ve been given permission to make you show up using any means available.”
Any means… Idia was observant. He was fully aware of what Jamil’s Unique Magic was, and that was the first place his mind went, causing a flare of heat in his gut.
His browser history was full of searches for porn and H-games that involved hypnosis or mind control…
Idia gulped, and he could feel his face getting warm, fingernails digging into his palm.
For the hundredth time in his life, Idia wished he could sink into the floor.
Instead, he nodded stiffly. He was doomed.
***
The first lesson took place in an unused practice room in the main building, it was normally used by the school dance club on alternating days.
Idia arrived ten minutes late on purpose, hoping Jamil would have gotten fed up and left.
Of course, he hadn’t.
Jamil stood at the center of the polished floor, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re late.”
“Traffic,” Idia muttered.
Jamil’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline. “Try again. We’re on campus.”
“Emotional traffic.”
Jamil’s mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, and something Idia hoped was amusement flashed in his dark eyes.
“We’ll start with something simple. Basic steps. You just have to survive a dance or two, Shroud. You have some of the basics down from Noble Bell.”
Survive. Idia cringed at the reminder of having to dance in front of so many people. He’d survived that; he could survive this right? Technically, since he wasn’t a focus this should be lower-level difficulty from that Extreme Trial setting
Yeah, he was pretty sure it was going to be humiliation, game over by the end of the night. Did he really want to survive in that case?
“Just… show me whatever I’m supposed to do or whatever. I finished my dailies, but I have a raid group tonight.”
Jamil shrugged and moved to the center of the room. “Do you remember the box step you had to learn for Malleus song?”
Idia shuddered at the memory. “Unfortunately. If that’s all I have to do I can go…” Jamil raised a hand to stop him.
“Not…so fast. That’s just the bare bones. Most of what you had to do at Nobel Bell was solo.”
Idia sighed heavily and watched Jamil show him the basic steps. “We’ll have you practice solo right now, but you’re going to have to practice with me too.” At least Jamil looked as thrilled about that as he was.
Idia could clear endgame raids. He could optimize builds and calculate drop probabilities and stats in his head.
But this?
This required coordination and touching.
He attempted the steps, and this was easy. No people. Just steps…timed. If he pretended it was a really boring Just Dance pattern, he was ok. He even had a gleeful moment where he noticed his torturer looking surprised. Yeah, Idia could do patterns. He could do Idol dances too!
It was when Jamil stopped him to dance with him that it became a problem.
Idia immediately stepped on the Scarabia Vicewardens toes and dropped his hands from where they’d been placed.
“Focus,”
“I am focused,” Idia snapped, anxiety spiking to the edge of frustration. “The problem is my body has input lag.”
Jamil raised an eyebrow. “You were doing fine alone. Surprisingly so. What’s your problem now?”
Heat flared behind Idia’s eyes—panic morphing into irritation, the way it did when he felt cornered in a game.
“Look, if this were some mid rhythm minigame? All I’d need is to get the patterns down, easy shit. I’m at the controls. But then you start moving me around, and I don’t know if you want me to go left or right. It’s a whole different level with new rules, so fuck off with “What’s you’re problem now. “ He almost brushed Jamil’s hair, making air quotes. “It’s not comparable”
Not to mention his brain focusing on the points of contact. Idia didn’t touch people. It was distracting.
Especially because it was Jamil.
Jamil stilled and stared at him like he was some strange….well, not bug. Idia knew about Jamil’s little phobia.
But an oddity he’d thought he’d figured out that didn’t fit in its box.
And Idia’s hair started to flicker from orange to pink as he realized he’d lost his temper, even though the irritation still threatened to overwhelm his anxiety.
“Fine.” Jamil turned away from him sharply. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my lead, but if I adjust it for you, it’s not going to help you with whatever sap you get stuck dancing with.” he moved to lean against the mirror thoughtfully, before dark eyes focused on Idia once again.
“We’ll try this two ways. One we’ll…try to break it down to gaming mechanics. And two.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Maybe you’ll be better at leading.” Idia didn’t like the spark of mischief in Jamil’s eyes one bit.
And later, he hated the fact that he was right even more. Idia didn’t like dancing, but he found that he was pretty good at steering his partner.
He still tripped, he still flushed and stumbled when the mechanics pulled Jamil’s body close to his, but he was catching on.
And it felt like Jamil was catching on to his moods.
The more frustrated Idia became, the nastier he got and the less his anxiety emerged. Usually people backed off at that point. Idia knew his sarcasm was sharp and had a nasty edge to it, but Jamil responded in turn. It was almost like trading barbs in a chat room, and Idia was starting to enjoy it. They even had an in-depth debate when Idia critiqued the music selection.
Fuck.
Even the dancing wasn’t bad. When he thought about optimizing foot placement and minimizing wasted movement, it was interesting. Especially if he assigned each movement to mental remote. Left foot forward, right foot back, A button for the turn, BA combo for a dip and he had to beat it to move on to the next stage…It was almost fun.
The day he finally executed the combo properly, he hummed the victory theme from Final Fantasy.
Achievement well done.
And Jamil noticed, and some part of Idia took pride in that.
***
Days passed. Idia still bitched about having to show up, still planned his gaming schedule around them, grumbling about lost grinding time and wasted regen.
But he stopped arriving late.
He looked forward to the subtle barbs. Jamil seemed to take pleasure in finding exactly what to say to piss him off. To bring his competitive edge to the fore.
They fell into a routine, so he was shocked one day, two weeks into this training when Jamil stepped closer and moved Idia’s hand from his shoulder to his lower back.
“This is the more natural way to hold a partner.” The Scarabia head wore a slightly evil smirk, “Vil isn’t going to be happy if you dance like a kid.”
Idia’s entire nervous system short-circuited feeling Jamil’s warm back under his hand. He swallowed hard.
“I don’t have to be perfect,” he muttered, but he still moved, trying to block out the feel of his dance partner’s body with the mental remote.
Forward. Back. Turn.
Idia’s pulse thundered in his ears. Every inch of space between them felt charged. He could smell faint spice and clean fabric. He could see the fine line of Jamil’s lashes if he dared move his gaze from the hairbeads that rested just next to Jamil’s ear.
He couldn’t, not when Jamil's palm was warm against his, moving smoothly with every step Idia took.
“You’re thinking too much,” Jamil murmured.
“I always think too much.”
“When you think to much you…” He grunted as Idia stepped on his foot again. “That.”
But he didn’t let go.
***
The night of the dance arrived like a long-awaited final boss encounter.
Idia had grinded daily for this, putting himself through the humiliation of classical dance, followed by ice-cold showers when he got back to his dorm.
He’d deserved to take the weekend off to catch up on his usual games, even if Jamil had bitched. Idia didn’t care about learning contemporary dance. Vil had said the switch from formal would happen halfway through the evening. Idia planned to be long gone by then.
Ignihyde buzzed with preparation; there were always a few who had dates for these things.
Ortho bustled excitedly around Idia’s room, offering encouragement. He had been so excited that his brother was actually going to the dance, he’d thrown himself into making sure Idia went even if he couldn’t go himself.
With Ortho so involved, he couldn’t even use the sick excuse; Ortho’s scans would blow that out of the water. Ortho had even laid out a suit for him.
Idia stared at his formalwear like it was a betrayal.
He looked at his computer longingly as his brother tied his tie for him. The event notification flashed on his monitor, and he took a step towards it.
‘Server goes live in ten minutes.’
He could still abort the mission. He could figure something out; pretend to fall…actually twist his ankle. Break his leg! He could deal with being trapped in his room for a few weeks to get out of this.
But…
He imagined Jamil waiting in that bright, crowded hall. Imagined him glancing at the door once, then twice.
Then, looking away, irritated at the time he’d wasted.
Something twisted in his chest.
Pathetic, he told himself, tuning out Ortho’s babble. Jamil would never fall for a lame, skinny shut-in who treated ramen as fine cuisine and spent his nights grinding virtual loot.
Even if Idia not showing up wasted Jamil’s time; It wasn’t like they were anything to each other.
It had been an obligation more than anything else for the Scarabia student.
Still.
Idia shut off the monitor.
He was already late.
***
The ballroom was ablaze with light, music swelling from the live band in the corner.
Students spun across the floor, and couples laughed. The UST between some of the people trying not to show it was cringeworthy.
Idia hovered near the entrance, heart hammering so violently he thought he might actually faint.
He could do this. He could do this…
No, he coul—
“Shroud. You came.”
He turned.
Jamil stood before him, immaculately dressed. Dark fabric tailored to perfection, some sort of Scalding Sands formal wear. Gold accents caught the light.
He was composed as ever, but Idia could read faint surprise on his face.
Idia shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah. Well. Thought I’d at least unlock the participation achievement. And I didn’t want to deal with Schoenheit’s disappointment stack. I like living…sometimes.”
Jamil’s lips curved faintly into a smile
Around them, couples moved to the music; Rook spun by with Floyd Leech of all people, and he thought he saw Azul cozying up to Diamond. No wonder he hadn’t had time for the board game club.
Then Jamil stepped closer and held out his hand.
“Dance with me,” he said quietly.
Idia’s palms dampened. His mind raced for escape routes. They’d done this so many times in that small private dance room that it should be easy.
But switching from tutorial mode to live play was a whole different animal.
Jamil held his pose for a second more, then his body language shifted as the music slowed to a song they had practiced a million times.
“ I’m not sure why I wasted my time. I should have realized you’d be too lame to even try this level. Just go back to your room.”
Idia’s anxiety surged high and sharp, only to catch fire as Jamil continued to speak. Irritation and pride beat it unconscious in seconds.
The defiant, arrogant little voice that whispered: You learned this. You can do this. Don’t choke now.
He took a deep breath, red orange flickering at the edges of his hair, and grabbed Jamil’s hand as he started to pull away. Idia cursed himself for falling for that as triumph surged in those beautiful grey eyes, but warmth bloomed beneath it.
Even if it was just to prove he hadn’t wasted his time to Vil, Jamil cared enough to challenge him.
And that was enough.
They stepped onto the floor, and to Idia’s bruised anxieties, the world did not end. The entire room didn’t point and laugh. Of course, he was dancing with Jamil.
Idia’s hand rested on Jamil’s waist, and while he still felt giddy, feeling how solid Jamil felt under the smooth fabric, his hand in Idia’s was steady, grounding.
Idia had a moment of returned panic as he realized there were other people he could bump into, but a sharp pinch to his forearm brought his eyes back to his partner.
“This level just has obstacles. Like…a car game or Katamari.” Jamil’s voice was soothing, and Idia nodded, golden eyes narrowing in thought as it clicked.
Idia whirled him around the floor, and Jamil moved where he wanted him to, the subtle pressures of hand and the turn of a foot that he had learned. The mental remote played through, aiming for a perfect combo.
The lights blurred around them, the noise dulled; there was only the pattern, the rhythm of the music. As the song ended, he hesitated.
“You’re doing fine,”
Idia huffed softly, face warming even as he noticed a slight pink glow from his bangs. “Obviously. This is N00b shit. Barely harder than the tutorial mode.”
Jamil’s quiet laugh brushed against his ear, and Idia felt on top of the world as he moved them to the new song.
As they moved together beneath the lights, as the music carried them in careful circles, as the music slowed, moving closer until they weren’t really dancing anymore, just swaying chest to chest.
Idia allowed himself a terrifying thought.
Maybe this wasn’t just an obligation or the need to win a game.
Maybe this was the beginning of something neither of them had imagined.
Idia looked down at Jamil’s half-lidded eyes and realized maybe…
Idia shook his head to clear that thought as the next song ended, catching Jamil’s questioning look out of the corner of his eyes.
“Surprise DLC…” the Ignihyde housewarden muttered, praying his hair wasn’t pink, but from the glow he could see out of the corner of his eyes, it totally was.
Jamil snorted softly and shook his head, the golden beads in his hair flashing in the light.
“DLC?”
Idia nodded, not meeting his eyes. “I’d expected an achievement, not a dating sim.” He knew he sounded petulant, but he could feel his fingertips prickling with nerves as he waited for Jamil to answer.
Yeah, I totally misread that, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand and never talk to me again and…
“You could always… cancel the install.” Jamil’s face had returned to its neutral expression, the pressure onIdia’s lower back starting to withdraw.
With a surge borne of panic, Idia’s arm tightened around Jamil's waist, bringing him closer than the introvert had meant to. His brain nearly short-circuited as he felt the solid, warm body against his own, but he knew he had to say something to. A game. This was a game.
“Heh…You thought. I don’t cancel surprise content, N00b, I beat it. You’ll just have to deal with that…Jamil.” Idia let the giddy grin he’d been trying to hold back spread across his lips.
“Is that so…” Jamil asked, smirking slightly as the slow music trailed off and he felt the beat of bass begin from the speakers. “Then you’ll love this.”
Idia felt his stomach drop as unfamiliar music started, and the couples started dancing…clubbing. It reminded him of clubbing scenes in games. Ice shot down his spine as he realized they’d reached the halfway point. It hadn’t even felt like an hour. He felt his soul try to leave his body; after he’d managed to sound so confident, too. Of course, he had to roll a nat 1.
And Jamil, that absolute asshole, was just standing there smirking at him.
“Wish you hadn’t skipped your final lessons, hm?”
“I’d expected to ditch by now. I have an event to do, and I’m already late for it…” He felt his stomach drop as the warmth in those dark grey eyes started to die, and waved his hands frantically. “Should have expected surprise DLC to have Hard mode…So I guess you’ll have to teach me. And don’t give me that BS about ‘feel the music.’”
As Jamil’s lips curved into that smirk again, Idia felt his stomach twist in a different way. He suddenly felt nervous as the dark-haired man’s look became positively predatory.
“I can teach you…” Idia felt Jamil’s strong hands grab his hips and pull them thigh to thigh, the driving beat from the speakers echoing through the floor. “But since we don’t have weeks, just let me move you to the beat since you won’t do it yourself.”
Idia squeaked, but the look in Jamil’s eyes wouldn’t let him back down.
“GG, Your turn to use the controller.”
Apparently, it was the right thing to say, because the next hour and a half were actually fun.
And the kiss that ended the night was even worth starting the event a day late.