Sounds like a plan. If you're late, I'll dock points from your score.
[From what score, you may wonder... Don't worry about it.
Akira holds out his hand palmside up to accept the ring. He'll be fiddling with it first thing in the morning, but in the meantime, it's time to catch up on his beauty sleep.]
I'll do my best. Catch you later, Solomon.
[He didn't call him old man...! This is progress.
After they go their separate ways, Akira spends the bulk of the following day working away at various spells and enchantments, but he's not so gung ho that he's neglected to pace himself. He'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with plenty of progress to report by the time evening rolls around and Solomon comes to collect him. That said, Akira's waiting for him in his room.]
[Sometime during the day, Akira may hear something akin to an explosion from further up the building. Golly, I wonder what that was.
As the sun starts to set, Akira will get a polite knocking on his door. He's grabbed a slightly different jacket but otherwise has kept to his very boring black on black.
He looks a lot more worn than the previous night. But he still offers a pleasant smile when the door opens.]
[Akira hears knocking at the door and comes scuttling over dressed immaculately, unlike a certain someone.]
Did that explosion nuke your sense of style too?
[Well, whatever. Solomon is still hot even dressed in relatively unassuming attire. Slipping the door closed behind him, Akira takes Solomon's arm. You are not going to rob him of a proper ballroom experience, sir.]
[Oh buddy, you'll have to do better than that. Asmo destroys his sense of style on a daily basis.]
Hahah.... I didn't have the energy to clean up my other suit in time, unfortunately. I suppose you'll have to outshine me for tonight. [He'll put his free hand against Akira's arm with a light little pat as he leads them down the hall.]
Would you like to go out to the courtyard, or did you have another destination in mind for this little dance of ours?
[Ah. Akira isn't what you'd call shy, but... there's a time and place for standing out, you know? Akira turns his face away from Solomon, suddenly very invested in studying the floor.]
[It is, unfortunately for Akira. If Solomon's eyes are keen, he might notice Akira's habit of tugging on the ends of his bangs when he's embarrassed or otherwise out of his element. The suggestion of dancing on the roof, however, excites him enough to forget about his embarrassment for a minute. Heights! How exciting.]
Yeah, why not? If a good view's what you want, the roof is the perfect stage.
[It's a very noticeable quirk, and a cute one at that. Still, this might be a good test for Akira's resilience.]
Have you danced before? I'd rather not take you up quite that high with my magic being as weak as it currently is if you're not confident in your steps.
[Leo taught him the basics of a proper waltz and... he and Yamato almost shattered each other's ankles... but still! Both of these things technically count as dance experience. What Solomon doesn't know won't kill him.]
Buuut you might need to give me a few pointers. I'm no pro, but I learn quick.
[He'll show you, Pops. Just you wait and see what wonders he works on that mood ring.
But, lest he give Solomon more ammunition, Akira pipes down. Arguing with his decision is only going to make him look inflexible and stubborn, which is the very opposite of how he wants Solomon to view him.
So— fine. It's not the ideal venue, but beggars can't be choosers. Akira shakes the tension out of his shoulders and cracks his neck, mentally preparing to dance like no one's looking. Please don't let anyone be looking.]
Whatever m'wizard wants, m'wizard gets. To the courtyard.
[Away we go. Gather your nerves or speak your mind more firmly, mister Thief of Hearts - first floor means they don't have much space between locations.]
Now, now - "sorcerer", please. There's a difference.
[He's fine! His nerves are steeled and he's ready to endure anything and everything Solomon throws at him even if he'll be carefully avoiding looking up into any of the surrounding windows. If he saw someone standing pop-eyed in their bedroom window watching them dance, Akira might have to eliminate them as a matter of caution. Solomon would understand, surely.
Reaching the courtyard, Akira lets go of Solomon's arm to stretch out and limber up. It's a bit excessive for what will probably be no more complicated than a two-step, but just let him do his thing.]
I'll call you whatever you want if you manage to impress me with your stellar dancing. How's that sound?
[He'll wait patiently as Akira warms himself up, his own motions much slower. Once he's ready, Solomon will extend a hand back out. One hand here, one hand here, nice and close...
His smile softens.]
Relax. Keep your eyes on me. Mirror my steps.
[It's a waltz, thankfully. But Solomon very much knows what he's doing, and will adjust rather smoothly if Akira needs some time to get into the rhythm. Just a slow repeat of the steps, a gentle circle of counting.]
[And he's certain Solomon has heard that countless times in his long, long life... assuming he's much older than he looks, which Akira is quite certain he is. Maybe that's the question he should ask Solomon? How old are you, anyway? Mm, but that wouldn't satisfy Akira. No, there's so much more he wants to ask, so many things he needs to know, but if he's being given just one shot to ask Solomon one of the many pressing questions on his mind, he has to make sure it's a good one.
Akira easily falls in step with Solomon. No smashed feet or bruised ankles yet. Yamato must be cursed.]
You really think I'm not ready for the roof? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to rile me up.
[His brows raise at the compliment, but he seems to ignore it otherwise. He gently tests a quickening of pace, a bounce in the step, adjusting the energy to be a little more playful.]
If you're riled up at the basics, then what does that say about how you will handle the complex?
[It's not about whether or not he can handle the roof, after all.]
[Tch, don't blow off his compliment. Actually... hey, why did Solomon blow off his compliment? Something to tuck away in the back of his mind for later.
For now, Akira's focus is on their dance, at least in part. He can keep pace just fine even as they pick up speed, the energy more jovial than Akira would normally expect from what is traditionally a slow dance. Suits him just fine, regardless.]
Nothing at all. I don't have to prove myself to you or anyone else, right?
[But Akira understands himself. He sees his faults as obstacles to overcome, knots to untangle and smooth out, and he's not ashamed to own up to them. That's why he has a confession to make.]
I feel like I've got to prove myself to you. I couldn't tell you why, because I don't fully get it myself.
[A tension between the logical and the emotional. It's a good sense of self-awareness on Akira's part, and something that Solomon takes careful note of as he continues.]
Then, maybe we should just rephrase the question -- ah, here. I'm going to give you a gentle push. Let yourself pivot, extend your hand behind you...
[As he guides Akira to a more distanced position, a beat in preparation to spin him back:]
What is it you hope to gain in proving yourself to me? What is it you're "proving" at all?
[Expecting that a spin will follow, Akira throws out his free arm with a flourish, balancing briefly on one foot. Reel him back in, daddy.]
Mm, dunno. Nothing tangible. What's your approval going to mean after we leave this place? If I managed to surpass you in magical skill, I'd only think "what's next?"
[He pauses a beat, waits until Solomon guides him back in:]
[Good, good, he's got it. Solomon chuckles, holding Akira's balance enough for it to be fun before pulling him back, Akira's back to him with the barest of touch around his waist.]
I imagine you're not just lonely, Akira-kun. No one seeks guidance purely for attention.
[He'll guide him back to a baseline, and the steps change slightly.
[Solomon's touch is a phantom against his waist, so bare that Akira might have ignored it had he not been waiting for it, and he had been waiting for it. Everything's held at a measured distance, that boundary carefully maintained.
Infuriating.
But Akira wouldn't be Akira if he didn't at least attempt to translate his vexations into something productive. Their careful, by-the-books dance begins to unravel and twist into something far more organic, and Akira channels that unwanted tumult of emotion inside of himself into his footwork. He matches Solomon beat for beat at points, contrasts him at others, but the intensity of every step, every sweep, is all Akira.]
As Akira intensifies, Solomon holds him back less. A guide to bring him back to center, a balance to keep him afloat, but he pushes and pulls with more frequency, a sway of hips and waist and sharp turning of the feet. A spin here, a wrap there, the rhythm no longer counted as the structure turns more and more towards improvisation.
He starts letting Akira's hands go completely, extending it back out to let Akira decide if he wants to take it back between measures. Counting based on sound, movements based on sight, letting instinct guide his partner and seeing how long it would continue.]
That isn't my decision. Is it?
[How long until the fledgling decides to fly when it believes it's already halfway out of the nest?]
[It's a rhythm that comes as naturally as traversing the battlefield, but his enemy is different. Akira never met a lock he couldn't pick, no foe that couldn't be felled with the right combination of gumption and dogged determination. Why, then, does Solomon slip from his grasp like grains of sand?
Akira's eyes briefly close and he listens only to the cadence of their footfalls, trusting Solomon to guide him, catch him, push and pull him. Whatever hesitation he felt knowing their dance might draw attention has left him and all that remains are those questions, those damning questions, that have grown so oppressive in their weight.
This is why Akira can't look away. Solomon refuses him that option.]
You should have some idea, if you're guiding me. Then again...
[Akira trusts himself back on a half-turn, both anticipating and expecting Solomon to catch him before he meets the ground.]
...It's hard to tell when you won't let anyone in close enough to know for sure.
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[From what score, you may wonder... Don't worry about it.
Akira holds out his hand palmside up to accept the ring. He'll be fiddling with it first thing in the morning, but in the meantime, it's time to catch up on his beauty sleep.]
I'll do my best. Catch you later, Solomon.
[He didn't call him old man...! This is progress.
After they go their separate ways, Akira spends the bulk of the following day working away at various spells and enchantments, but he's not so gung ho that he's neglected to pace himself. He'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with plenty of progress to report by the time evening rolls around and Solomon comes to collect him. That said, Akira's waiting for him in his room.]
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As the sun starts to set, Akira will get a polite knocking on his door. He's grabbed a slightly different jacket but otherwise has kept to his very boring black on black.
He looks a lot more worn than the previous night. But he still offers a pleasant smile when the door opens.]
Ready to go?
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Did that explosion nuke your sense of style too?
[Well, whatever. Solomon is still hot even dressed in relatively unassuming attire. Slipping the door closed behind him, Akira takes Solomon's arm. You are not going to rob him of a proper ballroom experience, sir.]
Let's. Lead the way, king.
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Hahah.... I didn't have the energy to clean up my other suit in time, unfortunately. I suppose you'll have to outshine me for tonight. [He'll put his free hand against Akira's arm with a light little pat as he leads them down the hall.]
Would you like to go out to the courtyard, or did you have another destination in mind for this little dance of ours?
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[Ah. Akira isn't what you'd call shy, but... there's a time and place for standing out, you know? Akira turns his face away from Solomon, suddenly very invested in studying the floor.]
Are you that much of a showoff?
[When in doubt, deflect!]
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[Aw. Is this bashfulness genuine?]
I could always bring you to the rooftops instead.
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Yeah, why not? If a good view's what you want, the roof is the perfect stage.
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[It's a very noticeable quirk, and a cute one at that. Still, this might be a good test for Akira's resilience.]
Have you danced before? I'd rather not take you up quite that high with my magic being as weak as it currently is if you're not confident in your steps.
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[Leo taught him the basics of a proper waltz and... he and Yamato almost shattered each other's ankles... but still! Both of these things technically count as dance experience. What Solomon doesn't know won't kill him.]
Buuut you might need to give me a few pointers. I'm no pro, but I learn quick.
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[He thinks for a moment. Well, not really, but he'll pause to at least feign the consideration.]
We'll simply start in the courtyard, then. A quick learner means we'll be able to move up to more adventurous places in no time.
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[He can dance! The roof is fine!! He's not going to go barreling off of it unless Solomon purposefully yeets him. Even then, he has a broom!]
Look. I have plenty of experience navigating high and narrow spaces. I'm not going to go flying off a big flat roof.
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[It's not the falling that he's worried about, nor is it what he's testing here.]
If you can manage on the ground, I will trust your abilities several stories up.
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[He'll show you, Pops. Just you wait and see what wonders he works on that mood ring.
But, lest he give Solomon more ammunition, Akira pipes down. Arguing with his decision is only going to make him look inflexible and stubborn, which is the very opposite of how he wants Solomon to view him.
So— fine. It's not the ideal venue, but beggars can't be choosers. Akira shakes the tension out of his shoulders and cracks his neck, mentally preparing to dance like no one's looking. Please don't let anyone be looking.]
Whatever m'wizard wants, m'wizard gets. To the courtyard.
[UGH]
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[Away we go. Gather your nerves or speak your mind more firmly, mister Thief of Hearts - first floor means they don't have much space between locations.]
Now, now - "sorcerer", please. There's a difference.
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Reaching the courtyard, Akira lets go of Solomon's arm to stretch out and limber up. It's a bit excessive for what will probably be no more complicated than a two-step, but just let him do his thing.]
I'll call you whatever you want if you manage to impress me with your stellar dancing. How's that sound?
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[He'll wait patiently as Akira warms himself up, his own motions much slower. Once he's ready, Solomon will extend a hand back out. One hand here, one hand here, nice and close...
His smile softens.]
Relax. Keep your eyes on me. Mirror my steps.
[It's a waltz, thankfully. But Solomon very much knows what he's doing, and will adjust rather smoothly if Akira needs some time to get into the rhythm. Just a slow repeat of the steps, a gentle circle of counting.]
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[And he's certain Solomon has heard that countless times in his long, long life... assuming he's much older than he looks, which Akira is quite certain he is. Maybe that's the question he should ask Solomon? How old are you, anyway? Mm, but that wouldn't satisfy Akira. No, there's so much more he wants to ask, so many things he needs to know, but if he's being given just one shot to ask Solomon one of the many pressing questions on his mind, he has to make sure it's a good one.
Akira easily falls in step with Solomon. No smashed feet or bruised ankles yet. Yamato must be cursed.]
You really think I'm not ready for the roof? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to rile me up.
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If you're riled up at the basics, then what does that say about how you will handle the complex?
[It's not about whether or not he can handle the roof, after all.]
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For now, Akira's focus is on their dance, at least in part. He can keep pace just fine even as they pick up speed, the energy more jovial than Akira would normally expect from what is traditionally a slow dance. Suits him just fine, regardless.]
Nothing at all. I don't have to prove myself to you or anyone else, right?
[But Akira understands himself. He sees his faults as obstacles to overcome, knots to untangle and smooth out, and he's not ashamed to own up to them. That's why he has a confession to make.]
I feel like I've got to prove myself to you. I couldn't tell you why, because I don't fully get it myself.
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Then, maybe we should just rephrase the question -- ah, here. I'm going to give you a gentle push. Let yourself pivot, extend your hand behind you...
[As he guides Akira to a more distanced position, a beat in preparation to spin him back:]
What is it you hope to gain in proving yourself to me? What is it you're "proving" at all?
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[Expecting that a spin will follow, Akira throws out his free arm with a flourish, balancing briefly on one foot. Reel him back in, daddy.]
Mm, dunno. Nothing tangible. What's your approval going to mean after we leave this place? If I managed to surpass you in magical skill, I'd only think "what's next?"
[He pauses a beat, waits until Solomon guides him back in:]
Maybe I just want your attention.
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I imagine you're not just lonely, Akira-kun. No one seeks guidance purely for attention.
[He'll guide him back to a baseline, and the steps change slightly.
Syncopation, a swinging beat.
A slow breaking of the rules.]
Follow along. Let me be your momentum.
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[Solomon's touch is a phantom against his waist, so bare that Akira might have ignored it had he not been waiting for it, and he had been waiting for it. Everything's held at a measured distance, that boundary carefully maintained.
Infuriating.
But Akira wouldn't be Akira if he didn't at least attempt to translate his vexations into something productive. Their careful, by-the-books dance begins to unravel and twist into something far more organic, and Akira channels that unwanted tumult of emotion inside of himself into his footwork. He matches Solomon beat for beat at points, contrasts him at others, but the intensity of every step, every sweep, is all Akira.]
Follow along, huh? And where will I end up?
[Where does this dance lead?]
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As Akira intensifies, Solomon holds him back less. A guide to bring him back to center, a balance to keep him afloat, but he pushes and pulls with more frequency, a sway of hips and waist and sharp turning of the feet. A spin here, a wrap there, the rhythm no longer counted as the structure turns more and more towards improvisation.
He starts letting Akira's hands go completely, extending it back out to let Akira decide if he wants to take it back between measures. Counting based on sound, movements based on sight, letting instinct guide his partner and seeing how long it would continue.]
That isn't my decision. Is it?
[How long until the fledgling decides to fly when it believes it's already halfway out of the nest?]
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Akira's eyes briefly close and he listens only to the cadence of their footfalls, trusting Solomon to guide him, catch him, push and pull him. Whatever hesitation he felt knowing their dance might draw attention has left him and all that remains are those questions, those damning questions, that have grown so oppressive in their weight.
This is why Akira can't look away. Solomon refuses him that option.]
You should have some idea, if you're guiding me. Then again...
[Akira trusts himself back on a half-turn, both anticipating and expecting Solomon to catch him before he meets the ground.]
...It's hard to tell when you won't let anyone in close enough to know for sure.
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