The Inoue School of Dance

On The Ninth Day Of Fun I present... a new feature! I’ll be looking at each of the dance schools in turn, so for now enjoy the first one! History The Inoue School, and thus the Inoue Style, began with Inoue Sato (井上サト), who lived from 1767 - 1854. She was entrusted to the care of the Konoe family in Kyoto from an early age as a lady-in-waiting, and showed great promise in the traditional arts. Since the Konoe were of the nobility, Sato had access to the same education as those of the aristocracy, so she was taught only the best. Eventually she went on to become the dance instructor for the Konoe children. When she left their care in 1797, the Konoe family bestowed upon her the name Yachiyo (八千代) and gave her use of the well frame (bishimon) kamon to start her own school of dance.  From there she gained her first students of the style and in her old age eventually named a successor, Inoue Aya (井上アヤ) (1770 - 1868), who was granted the title of Yachiyo Inoue II. Not too much is known about Aya, except that she was supposedly the niece of Sato and recognized the talent of a young girl named Katayama Haruko (片山春子) from a very young age and raised her up to be her successor, which would end up being pivotal in the Inoue school’s history. Haruko (1838 - 1938), who inherited the title of Yachiyo Inoue III, would be the one who would be called upon by the governor and mayor of Kyoto to choreograph a dance for the 1872 World Expo to showcase the talents of her students, who at this point happened to be the maiko and geiko of Gion. Her dances became the first Miyako Odori, whose success was so grand that she was granted any wish that the governor could provide. As we know by now, her wish was to unite eight of the finest neighborhoods in the Gion district into its own new kagai named Gion Kobu where only her style of dance would be taught and leave the rest to be called Gion Otsubu. Like Aya before her, Haruko also found a talented dancer from a very young age to eventually replace her, but this time, it was another special young girl: Aiko.  Inoue Aiko (井上愛子) (1905 - 2004) began dancing at the age of 3, when those who are of prominent artistic lines usually begin their training instead of age 6. Although not related by blood, she would marry Haruko’s grandson and be adopted into the family. While not a standout beauty, her dancing skills were peerless and it would be the young Aiko who would lead the school as Yachiyo Inoue IV beginning in 1947. It was during her tenure that the world saw much change, specifically, the hardships endured during and after World War II and the slow decline of the karyukai when the bubble economy burst in the 1990s. During her lifetime she was named a Living National Treasure and received various awards and honors from the government for her dance. Like Haruko, Aiko recognized the talent of her granddaughter, Michiko, and named her successor upon her retirement in 2000. Inoue Michiko (井上三千子) (1956 - present) is the currently the fifth holder of the title Yachiyo Inoue. Like her grandmother before her, she began dancing at the age of 3 and showed great promise. Also like her grandmother before her, Michiko has also been named as a Living National Treasure, one of the youngest ever to boot. Michiko’s leadership through the corona virus pandemic has been nothing short of the definition of strength and endurance and hopefully she can continue to pull through as Gion Kobu rebuilds.  Now, unlike previous generations, the next Yachiyo Inoue has already been chosen so quickly after the last head’s passing. Michiko’s daughter, Inoue Yasuko (井上安寿子) has already been chosen by committee to eventually replace her mother upon her death. Like the previous heads before her, Yasuko has been groomed since the age of 3 to be a dancer, and her skills are quite impressive. She’s been noted to be a dancing prodigy, hence why her selection has already been made.     Style The Inoue style of dance is derived from the Noh court dances, so its movements are usually slow and punctuated by quick, dramatic ones.    Natori Those who become natori in the Inoue style are given a special fan signed by the current Yachiyo Inoue and is decorated with a camellia flower, a symbol of the school. Each year they receive a new fan with a new design at Kotohajime. Unlike other dance schools, those who are natori in the Inoue school cannot teach dance unless they are an accredited teacher.       

The natori graduation fan. The background is actually pink, but the gold flakes make it appear orange. 

ORIHIME used BONK! It's super efffective! (ch 167)

Apparently, we have Ichigo and Orihime dancing in the opening??? I'm???

Whether it's together or not, I don't know, but they're DANCING?

10 Dance Vol 1

Better End

Hi everyone, today we have a fix it fic for the squad where the only pov we have is Tatsuki. Day 2, 3 and 4 are smudged together cuz mama is doing other projects and needs to focus but Ulquihime Week is sacred and we are going for it! Hope you all like!

@ulquihimeweek

Ulquihime Week 2023- Day 2 Dance, Day 3 Scandal, Day 4 Brekaing the 4th wall

Better End

It was as if she'd been written out of their lives. Just like the time the arrancar took her.

Ichigo was strangely calm, and so was Kazui. Tatsuki hated it when her best friends didn't tell her things. She thought that was over since high school.

"Give it some time, she'll be back soon, and we will be written properly."

She didn't know what that meant. Not until she woke up one morning in her apartment and there were papers for a dojo in her desk. "What the...?"

Tatsuki went over to the kitchen and saw many pictures on the fridge, she was posing with kids that won martial arts competitions. A flash of memories rushed through her mind and she quickly headed to where she now knew her best friends would be.

The kindergarten was full and it was hard to get to the front of the dance classroom. Tatsuki heard whispers as she tried to find a good place.

"Her ex-husband is here with their child. How can she do this?"

"They divorced cuz they got married young. Her new fiance is so different from Kurosaki. Makes me wish she wasn't such a good teacher so I could switch schools"

"Scandalous to bring your boy and ex-husband to a performance with your new man."

Finally she saw it. Orihime achieving her dream of being a children dance teacher, by the side of a man she'd only had described when Tatsuki comforted her on sleepless teary nights.

'He should've been saved. We should've been together!' Orhime had lamented repeatedly until she suddenly stopped and continued on with her life.

Tatsuki knew she wasn't over it. She'd seen her wearing the silver bracelet whenever she could. But now she had changed the bracelet for a ring of gold and emerald.

"Hey, you made it!"

Ichigo's voice startled her, as Tatsuki sat down beside him and Kazui, as they were ready to see Orihime perform a dance with Ulquiorra.

"Is this it? The rewriting thing you mentioned?"

"Yeah...I think you know that that our lives were not going in the direction we wanted. Now they are and we don't need to worry. This time, we'll all be okay."

She didn't question it. Not when she saw Keigo, Mizuiro, Chad and Uryu in the distance siting down and waving at them. The quicy didn't have a doctor's uniform, their tall silent friend was the one in veterinarian attire. Keigo seemed giddy to be waring his ramen's shop attire, and to her surprise Mizuiro was wearing a wedding ring, and accompanied by a smiling happy lady.

At the center of it all was her best friend dancing gleefully with the man she loved, no longer dulled, tired and conforming, but thriving either her old fire and zest. He too looked doffrent from expressionless nihilistic man Orihime described, as he was smiling brightly at the sight of the redhead, letting her lead the dance and happily supporting her. They looked like the couples Orihime had onceenvied, but there was no need for that anymore.

"When they're done we should all go get ramen at Keigo's. I have a feeling his shop will be full now."

Ichigo smiled, ruffling Kazui's hair as the boy admired his mother's performance. "Sounds like a plan."

New 10 Dance Colored Illustration!

When is the last time you saw a new 10 Dance illustration in color (that's not a volume cover)?! Inoue's teacher posted this sketch on 17/7 to thank fans for the positive feedback and encouragement from the latest update. It is of our two Shinyas in their summer attire and Suzuki wrapping an arm around Sugiki while holding a can of beer. I like to think that Sugiki also has his hand on Suzuki's back... They look so happy here; I hope this can come true in canon soon!

The next picture of this thread is of a subtle sneak peek at next month's update. It's a picture of a Silurian-period ancient fish... I wonder what context this would be used in, haha.

Source

HAPPY, group_inou (2024)

Nearly a decade after we last heard from era-defining Japanese hip-hop duo group_inou, after imai and cp forever transformed their nation’s popular rap…  a return. And a return to exactly the form of 2015’s map, rap skimming atop electropop to tremendously skilful, eye-catching effect. 

Pick: ‘Happening’

10 Dance Manga: The evolution of "The God of Dance"

Cherry blossoms, they dance (NHK: Minna no Uta) Azumi Inoue: J-pop

Azumi Inoue, who is famous for her Studio Ghibli theme songs, is from Kanazawa. There is a famous writer from Kanazawa: Kyoka Izumi has a short story called "Surgery Room". The surgeon falls in love with an upper-class lady he meets only once, and she, terminally ill, chooses to die in his arms. He also commits suicide after her death... intense love. This seemingly calm song is reminiscent of this story. Broadcast in 1992.

桜、舞う（NHK:みんなのうた）井上あずみ：J-pop

スタジオ・ジブリのテーマソングなどで有名な井上あずみは、金沢出身。金沢出身の有名な作家：泉鏡花に「外科室」という短編がある。一度出会っただけの上流階級の夫人と、外科医は恋に落ち、不治の病に罹った彼女は、彼の腕のなかでの死を選ぶ。彼も彼女の死後、自殺する・・・激しい恋。この一見穏やかな曲は、この経緯を彷彿させる。１９９２年放送。

Everybody loves tales of excellence...

Just what the hell are "tales of excellence?"

Tales of excellence are moments when the incredible meets reality: some hick kid duels and bests the Devil with nothing but a fiddle, a bum from Philly goes toe to toe with the undisputed boxing heavyweight champion of the world, a warrior with a pure heart and born of rage rises to defeat Space-Napoleon-Hitler. These tales put to page, screen, and radio a story that captures the hearts and minds of audiences everywhere. The manga industry's full of tournament arcs, which lend themselves well to these tales; one strange tale dances above the competition.

Inouesatoh lets readers bear witness to one of manga's most overlooked tales of excellence during Suzuki Shinya's fiery and rebellious debut on the international dance scene.

How can a manga about the most boring thing possible -ballroom dancing- ever compare to Akira Toriyama or Yusuke Murata?

It can't.

Dragonball and One Punch Man capture the fantastic through fantastical settings and powers.

10 Dance manages to capture the fantastic through the ordinary, everyday setting that we live in.

Inouesatoh uses that which you could find in any battle manga. Powerscaling. Spectators. An underdog. It's all done with basic moves, exactly as the lead Suzuki Shinya does during the tournament arc.

10 Dance doesn't fit neatly into any single subgenre. It's a romance, of course, but it isn't just romance. You can neither place it neatly into a box labeled "battle manga," nor a box labeled "slice of life." 10 Dance feels, like many other great manga, a piece that transcends its medium. That sounds great, but there's no proof...

It is time to make the tragically-too-small pond of 10 Dance posts bigger. In the future you'll be able to find posts that expand on the serialization's effective use of:

Powerscaling

Spectators

Musical Lemotif

The idea of powerscaling in a dancing manga seems ridiculous. It is, and it absolutely works.

Months ago before my first read through, I'd cock a smirk and think, "Imagine actually reading 10 Dance."

If your looking for something new with an empahsis on character development and synergy (aka banter), consider reading the manga about the ever-exhilirating-sounding world of ballroom dancing as seen through the lives of two soulmates.

You might just pleasantly surprise yourself with something excellent.

top left ; inoue orihime / top right ; nanao ise / bottom left ; senna / bottom right ; sode no shirayuki 

this picrew maker ! 

back on my 80s j-pop/city pop/fusion finding flawless albums and am ascending...

Week 18 1 May 2022 — 7 May 2022

Prompt: Art in the style of Takehiko Inoue

The amount of movement in Takehiko Inoue's pieces is utterly phenomenal. I particularly like the very stark ink pieces. I aimed for that sketchy movement and of course picked another dancer.

This piece is based on a photo of Yannick Lebrun from the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater taken for the NYC Dance Project.

10 Dance Vol 1

Staked Claim

Shalom x Reader

A/N: A quick fic inspired by @inou-ie’s fic, which can be found here. I am getting back into the swing of things! I’m sorry for the wait everyone!

Warnings: Possessive behavior, strap-ons, mentions of drinking, jealousy, overstimulation.

Smut under the cut. Minors DNI.

The haze of alcohol had made you forget just what problem prompted you to come here in the first place. With the haze, came the lack of restraint, and that was how you ended up here in the first place.

Blaring lights and all-too loud music became a relentless assault on your senses. It took all your focus just to talk, and energy for you to put on a smile when a beautiful woman joined you, her voice a melodious contrast to the loud music. Emboldened, you reciprocate her flirting, awkward as it could be, and her laughter became fuel for you to continue, even as a sense of wrongness stirred from the act.

It was all in good fun, you figured.

As if Fate itself has heard your claim, you hear a familiar voice.

“There you are,” a familiar voice spoke, soft without betraying any trace of emotions. A cold hand slid onto your waist, the other reaching up to trace a line from your chin to your neck, a gesture to anchor you back to reality.

“Can I take her for a bit? My dear (Name) here seems to be bothering you, let me apologize on her behalf,” Shalom continued, each word spoken in such a way that each word tickled against your ears. The softness of her dress was pressing against your back, Shalom seemingly uncaring about ruining it.

While the other woman was stunned, you were helped up and brought back to her place, ice injecting your veins as you realize how absolutely screwed you are. A soft click from the lock, right as you felt the familiar softness of her bedsheets sealed your fate.

Perhaps, the most unsettling of all, was the way she smiled. A practiced, perfect smile, beautiful, yet enough to convey a threatening message.

“I warned you, didn’t I?”

Her smile didn’t falter, and a shudder went down your spine. All the haze from your drinking had disappeared, replaced by a stark, sharp clarity.

“Ah, Shalom, I’m… sorry?”

She let out a chuckle at your answer. Her smile almost never faltered, which allowed you to pick up subtler cues to her feelings. Right now, you could sense jealousy was brewing underneath her skin, barely suppressed in an ever-present, statue-like charm too perfect to believe if you hadn’t seen it yourself. “Here I thought you were restlessly waiting for me, while I attend a business party, but it seems you’ve been having some fun, hm?”

You gulp, the sound almost echoing in the quiet, heavy atmosphere. Then, she continued.

“You know, I don’t like my things being touched by anyone else, including you. In fact, I hate it the most.”

Her soft voice was like a lure, a false illusion projected to give you a sense of security. Limbs locked by dread, you could only watch, as she made a tantalizing show of removing her dress layer by layer, shedding the cumbersome weight inch by inch, slow and careful to stretch the anticipation and fear to an eternity. Though you knew there was no use bargaining with her at this state, you opened your mouth, hoping to at least convince her.

However, as soon as you tried to, she was in front of you, index finger on your lips, the cold from her skin spreading and freezing your pleas.

“Strip.”

It was a soft-spoken order, yet you obeyed.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that she had taken out the biggest strap she could find, its color stark against her pale skin.

Using your distraction, she was in front of you, and then pushed you down, the toy aligned to your entrance.

“You’re not—“

Again, you were interrupted, as she kissed you before you could finish. It was a deep, searing kiss that did not allow you even a moment to breathe, tongues tangling in a claiming dance until black started to dot the corner of your sight. Only then did Shalom see it fit to give you respite, letting you catch your breath as she trailed bruising kisses down from your cheek, to the column of your neck, your shoulders, and the valley of your breasts. Her skillful tongue swirled around your nipple, stimulating them into stiffness while her hand played with your other breast.

Your pleas for her to slow down were overtaken, drowned by your own wanton moans. Even without her eyes branding your skin with sheer intensity, she seemed to have a telepathic connection to your thoughts, ramping up her stimulations when you start to say anything other than calling her name, scattering any coherent thoughts to the wind in the process. With a wet pop, she released your nipple, looking at you in the eyes for a moment before reaching down to give your folds a quick swipe, humming in satisfaction as she felt slick gather on her fingertips.

“Feel it, feel just how wet you are for me.”

She aligned the massive toy onto your entrance, hips slamming to meet yours as it slipped into your folds to the hilt, your eager walls swallowing and gripping on it. A sense of relief came first, then there was pain as the toy rammed so, so deeply her hips were connected to yours. She didn’t take her eyes off you, taking your right hand and planting a soft kiss on top of your digits while her hips moved in a slow, teasing manner to allow you to feel every inch as she entered you.

Through the pleasure, you realized, it was the same hand the woman you met at the bar touched.

“What are you thinking?” Shalom asked, putting your hand down and tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. “Look at me. Don’t look at anything else.”

With that, it was as if she had let go of her restraints.

Her stare pinned you down, fingers gripping your hips until it left crescent marks as she slammed the toy into you over and over, her intensity a wordless threat to split you apart, each moment your hips meet sending waves of pure bliss throughout your body. It was in moments like this you regretted forgetting about her strength, as weak as she may be from what you have heard, as a Sinner she was still much stronger than you were. She only allowed you, no, coaxed you to call and beg for her name and nothing else, each plea spilling from your lips to continue becoming her fuel to keep going, to ram her toy inside you until something broke apart within.

Your climax came as an explosion of sensations blurring into one, pain, pleasure, and exhaustion racking your entire form as you spilled and made a mess on the toy. Shalom eyed the forming puddle on the bedsheets with satisfaction, the gleam of her gaze telling you all you needed to know.

Then, she waited, until the glazed over look in your eyes subsided, a sign that you have regained awareness, before pulling out her toy from your folds, all smeared with your fluids from the tip to the hilt. A part of you have expected blood from the way she split you apart with abandon, yet there was nothing, nothing out of place other than evidence of your own unraveling beneath her. Exhaustion gripped your form, yet, her cold touch on your neck froze you into awareness.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” she purred, “I want you to feel, to see what I could do to you that no one else could.”

With that, she tightened her hold, restricting your breathing. Through that little control she exerted, her touches turn sharper, even the little movements of her fingers as her other hand stimulated your bud, slow, careful, and romantic, as strange as it sounded. Unlike before, when she moved as if she intended to split you into two at the seams, desire heated up your body slowly, a gentle rise that forced you to feel everything she did while you grapple with your restricted breathing, your legs shivered, your thighs closing, perhaps in an attempt to escape, or an attempt to force her to go faster.

You obtained neither.

She pulled out her hand as soon as your legs close, earning a low whine that you wished you would never be caught dead making. Alas.

“Patience, (Name), you will get your reward.”

Rather than distract you, the order just made you more keenly aware of her movements. A part of you supposed that it was just her form of punishment. Your legs quivered with need, hands gripping the sheets so hard it was a wonder you had not torn through them yet.

Relief came like a refreshing wave of water, as Shalom finally, finally released your neck, allowing you unrestricted access to fresh air. There was no mercy this time, no overwhelming sensations to allow you the dignity to forget what she had made you feel, etching how utterly and completely hers you were even into the deepest recesses of your thoughts. She seemed satisfied, and you finally let go, exhaustion claiming you, yet a soft pull on your hair sapped all the fatigue, Shalom’s smile still gracing her beautiful visage, a contrast to the mess you have made of yourself and the sheets.

“Tired already? I haven’t came even once. Come on, you won’t need to walk for the next three days, would you?”

“I read 10 Dance for the plot”

The plot:

Yeah, this is just my excuse to come back with a thirst post. The plot is just as good though!! I included a little spoiler from volume 7... those who know would know :). I whited out that speech bubble to make sure as little context as possible can be deduced from that panel lmao.

(I apologize for not having much to post lately!)