Miyaki Ren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nomorefeathers) wrote2013-05-22 12:33 pm
nomorefeathers) wrote2013-05-22 12:33 pm
(no subject)
Title: gentle fears
Summary: masks on top of masks. To hide the memories.
She knows, logically, that this is what rehearsals are about, that the demands to run the scene again and again are not just prelude to punishment for not having gotten it right the first time. At least it's warm, warm enough that she can feel the rivulets of sweat tracing new paths down the back of her neck. It keeps her grounded in reality, keeps the flashback of that other, stranger stage away, but her overactive mind still hears echo of his icy tones each time Ueno-sensei insists on doing it again and her shoulders tighten a bit more, expecting blows that never come. Too much longer of this and she'll start getting clumsy. Which just makes her muscles tighten more because despite what her rational brain says, the rest of her just knows that if she makes the sort of (very human) mistake brought on by fatigue and pain it will be exile to the cold and the dark. With grim determination she keeps her steps perfect, resists the instinctive urge to flinch away as Miu's fingers graze along the side of her cheek as she's resisted the last hundred or so times.
She doesn't want to resent Miu, sweet, innocent Miu, but the calls for "More gently" are due to her actions, and that traitorous emotional part of her mind chatters that they're going to be punished and that it will be Miu's fault, and Ren needs to get away from her, to flee before the cold and the dark come down on them both. It's the herd animal's thought - don't have to out run the predator, just have to outrun the slowest herd member. But she's not an animal, and she won't let herself fall into that kind of thinking.
"More gently!" Ueno-sensei calls again, and before Miu can make another attempt, Ren marshals her will and steps back a half step. "Like this," she says, and before she can think, she reaches out and traces her own fingers feather-light down Miu's cheek. Barely touching skin, and yet there's a sudden nearly electric jolt that makes her pull her hand away just a bit too fast. She hasn't touched any one like that outside of choreography in years. Many years. Ever, maybe. She can't remember.
"Yes, like that!" Ueno-sensei agrees, nodding vigorously. "But don't pull away quite so quick. You're supposed to love each other"
Love. She's pretty sure her ability to love, to accept love was lost in the darkness, or frozen away in some forgotten section of her heart. But she does know how to make the mask of it. And if that will end this torture sooner, she's all too willing to wear it.
Summary: masks on top of masks. To hide the memories.
She knows, logically, that this is what rehearsals are about, that the demands to run the scene again and again are not just prelude to punishment for not having gotten it right the first time. At least it's warm, warm enough that she can feel the rivulets of sweat tracing new paths down the back of her neck. It keeps her grounded in reality, keeps the flashback of that other, stranger stage away, but her overactive mind still hears echo of his icy tones each time Ueno-sensei insists on doing it again and her shoulders tighten a bit more, expecting blows that never come. Too much longer of this and she'll start getting clumsy. Which just makes her muscles tighten more because despite what her rational brain says, the rest of her just knows that if she makes the sort of (very human) mistake brought on by fatigue and pain it will be exile to the cold and the dark. With grim determination she keeps her steps perfect, resists the instinctive urge to flinch away as Miu's fingers graze along the side of her cheek as she's resisted the last hundred or so times.
She doesn't want to resent Miu, sweet, innocent Miu, but the calls for "More gently" are due to her actions, and that traitorous emotional part of her mind chatters that they're going to be punished and that it will be Miu's fault, and Ren needs to get away from her, to flee before the cold and the dark come down on them both. It's the herd animal's thought - don't have to out run the predator, just have to outrun the slowest herd member. But she's not an animal, and she won't let herself fall into that kind of thinking.
"More gently!" Ueno-sensei calls again, and before Miu can make another attempt, Ren marshals her will and steps back a half step. "Like this," she says, and before she can think, she reaches out and traces her own fingers feather-light down Miu's cheek. Barely touching skin, and yet there's a sudden nearly electric jolt that makes her pull her hand away just a bit too fast. She hasn't touched any one like that outside of choreography in years. Many years. Ever, maybe. She can't remember.
"Yes, like that!" Ueno-sensei agrees, nodding vigorously. "But don't pull away quite so quick. You're supposed to love each other"
Love. She's pretty sure her ability to love, to accept love was lost in the darkness, or frozen away in some forgotten section of her heart. But she does know how to make the mask of it. And if that will end this torture sooner, she's all too willing to wear it.