（ he's not the only one who knows something about using a deft touch — and her touch is just as gentle, for just the same reasons as him.
dancing is easy enough. like all kunoichi, she's had basic instruction in this sort of thing. not this specific type of dancing, perhaps, but she's always been a quick study, and it's easy to follow his lead. almost too easy. she's uncomfortable with how passive she feels, following his steps, letting him guide her, that resurrects the old burning shame at forever standing on the sidelines letting others do the hard work that's haunted her since she was a child.
her cheeks are burning, and she keeps her head sort of ducked down. it might look like she's just watching their feet to ensure she doesn't trip, but she's actually hoping he won't notice and misconstrue her rather complicated tangle of emotions on the matter. the last thing she wants is for him to think she was lying, that she actually is afraid of him for some reason. she isn't — as much because she can take care of herself as the fact that he's simply never done anything to warrant it, perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that's the sentiment she holds.
still — she has no idea how to simply let go and enjoy herself. she should. she feels good, warmed from within, relaxed even in the crowd (how long has it been, since she could say that?) and she's enjoying the company, but there are pieces of her own wariness she can't simply let go of. every time someone raises the pitch of their voice to a yell, every time there's a distant explosion of fireworks, every time a person cuts too quickly through the crowd...
(is it always going to be like this? is she always going to feel this way, lost and misplaced and tired and suspicious and frustrated and othered?)
her fingers flex, and once they complete the slow circuit of the dance, she steps away from him and performs a polite ritsurei. ）
I guess that does answer my question! Thank you, D. （ she flashes him a little victory sign, along with a playful crinkle of her nose. ） You're really graceful, has anyone ever told you that?
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dancing is easy enough. like all kunoichi, she's had basic instruction in this sort of thing. not this specific type of dancing, perhaps, but she's always been a quick study, and it's easy to follow his lead. almost too easy. she's uncomfortable with how passive she feels, following his steps, letting him guide her, that resurrects the old burning shame at forever standing on the sidelines letting others do the hard work that's haunted her since she was a child.
her cheeks are burning, and she keeps her head sort of ducked down. it might look like she's just watching their feet to ensure she doesn't trip, but she's actually hoping he won't notice and misconstrue her rather complicated tangle of emotions on the matter. the last thing she wants is for him to think she was lying, that she actually is afraid of him for some reason. she isn't — as much because she can take care of herself as the fact that he's simply never done anything to warrant it, perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that's the sentiment she holds.
still — she has no idea how to simply let go and enjoy herself. she should. she feels good, warmed from within, relaxed even in the crowd (how long has it been, since she could say that?) and she's enjoying the company, but there are pieces of her own wariness she can't simply let go of. every time someone raises the pitch of their voice to a yell, every time there's a distant explosion of fireworks, every time a person cuts too quickly through the crowd...
(is it always going to be like this? is she always going to feel this way, lost and misplaced and tired and suspicious and frustrated and othered?)
her fingers flex, and once they complete the slow circuit of the dance, she steps away from him and performs a polite ritsurei. ）
I guess that does answer my question! Thank you, D. （ she flashes him a little victory sign, along with a playful crinkle of her nose. ） You're really graceful, has anyone ever told you that?