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lemony-snickers · 10 days

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1 - Naruto / Kakashi Hatake

when the party's over - billie eilish.

Kakashi felt the hard wood of the the auditorium chair digging into his back and adjusted. It was dificult not to roll his eyes as families settled into their seats, turning to talk excitedly with one another about the show.

His eyes flitted to the decorations fixed to the front of the stage, the hand painted banner with "A Time to Remember" scrawled on the front.

Kakashi had never participated in a recital like this. Even in his youth, because of who his father was and what he did for a living, Kakashi's education in movement had been exceptional. Professional from the very start.

He had taken adult workshops instead of classes with children his own age, and he had featured in a few of his father's residency works before his death - had been taken under the wing of Sakumo's friends and contemporaries thereafter.

Kakashi was grateful he had never had to demean himself in such a way, wearing cheap costumes and trying to bend and break some artistic vision into a malformed box that suited A Time to Remember.

What did that even mean? What was it supposed to convey to the audience?

Kakashi huffed, rolled his neck from one side to the other to quell his irritation. An unfamiliar hand tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to look at the person attached, seated behind him, with only the thinnest veil of social politeness pulled over his natural expression of annoyance.

"Hi," a woman said, pointing toward the curtained stage with a hand-folded program printed on too-bright green paper, "who are you here to see?"

That was the questions, wasn't it? Becasue the person he was here for was not even performing, likely had done almost as few of these types of recitals as he had himself.

But Saya Tsunematsu was a peculiar thing, a person he still did not have a good read on, despite his proclivity for undrestanding people at a glance, in most cases.

The woman behind him, for example, leaning too close and hoping desperately he too was a single parent - something they could bond over before she inevitably asked him to help with some ridiculously small home repair project in a bid to finally seduce him.

"No one," he said flatly, turning to face the stage again. He heard the woman's half-shocked sound of confusion, felt the warmth of her hand as it crept toward his shoulder again before retreating. Kakashi closed his eyes, breathed through his nose. An hour and a half, one twenty minute intermission, and he could lay to rest whatever questions he had come here to answer.

Or, at least, if he didn't, he would forcibly bury them and move on. He had spent too much time already on trying to understand Saya; her determination to challenge him at every turn.

He had originally dismissed her when she auditioned for him with a piece of his father's choreography and she had snidely retorted that he was an egotistical fraud who could never live up to his father's legacy.

The remark had stung, the fear of inadequacy which Kakashi so easily pushed down most days writhing its way up his esophagus, curdling in his mouth.

Perhaps it had been a good thing - he'd never admit it - because it had forced Kakashi to truly think about the path he had set himself upon, the goals he wanted to achieve by reviving the White Fang Dance Company. To rewrite his childhood, to bring closure to a part of his past which had remained until recently an open, festering wound.

Saya had helped with that, had challenged him repeatedly as they reworked his father's choreography. He'd never met anyone who knew the movement as well as he did until Saya. It was strange, to find someone so devoted to Sakumo's work who had never known him.

The lights of the auditorium dimmed and Kakashi settled into the familiar darkness, the hush before the curtains pulled apart to reveal another hand-made (and similarly nonsensical) set piece - a backdrop painted with a mountain range in the distance, a field of flowers in the foreground; neither of which seemed to evoke a time to remember.

The first half of the recital was devoted mostly to the youngest children, few of whom knew their places or their steps, several of whom froze mid-stage, terrified of the lights and the sea of shadowed faces. One who cried, and three who tried to climb off the stage shouting, "Mama!" or "Papa!" with delight.

Kakashi had to forcibly unclench his jaw several times.

Intermission brought headache-inducing fluorescent lights and the opportunity to buy cookies and brownies and boxes of sugar water masquerading as juice in the hallway to support the dance studio's competitive endeavors. Kakashi purchased a single red carnation, unsure why except that it gave him something to do with his hands.

When he returned to his seat, the one behind him remained vacant and Kakashi wondered despite himself whether the woman had moved on his account or if her child was one of the young ones permitted to leave early so as not to miss their bedtime.

The second half of the recital was at least slightly more interesting. The children were older, more dedicated to their burgeoning craft. And while none of them danced to a professional level, several of them showed promise, and Kakashi found himself clapping a little louder, hoping it would encourage them to keep going.

And then, finally, the last piece of the night was all that remained. Kakashi straightened in his seat as a familiar person took the stage, standing in the center wearing a simple black dress and sensible heels.

"Good evening," Saya said, smiling, the long earring she wore catching the spotlight and reflecting it back in sharp refraction. "My name is Saya Tsunematsu and I'm a performer with the White Fang Dance Company."

Kakashi felt his pulse quicken a little at the mention, the acknowledgement that she was tied to him in some way. Professionally, of course.

"I am honored to have been invited to collaborate with some of the senior students on a piece for tonight's recital. When considering the theme A Time to Remember," Kakashi almost laughed but quickly converted it to a cough before anyone noticed, "I thought back to my own childhood, to the joy that dance brought every day, even when it hurt or when I didn't get the part I wanted and my parents listened to me cry the whole way home."

Several knowing chuckles erupted from the audience and Kakashi found himself, not for the first time, slightly jealous that Saya seemed so capable of connecting with the people around her, even if they could never attain her level of talent.

"I wanted this to be a truly collaborative effort and I'm so proud of the work these students have put forth to create this piece. I will admit, their choice of music was outside my usual realm, but that only made the challenge more fun for me, and - I hope - for them. Thank you and enjoy."

Applause followed Saya into the wings and the curtain pulled open again. A single performer stood on the darkened stage, wearing a loose sleeveless top and tightly fitted shorts, all a dull grey.

When the music began, it was a soft harmonic humming until a cracking voice joined.

Don't you know I'm no good for you?

The lights slowly came up, soft blue washing over the stage as the dancer at the center began a measured adaggio - as close to a hallmark of Saya's work as Kakashi had ever been able to pinpoint.

The girl's foot trailed from her ankle to her knee, and then higher - her thigh pulling tight to the side of her body as her foot extended overhead. Even Kakashi had to admire the control and flexibility the movement required. Her leg trembled only a little as she stared blankly forward, mouth parted slightly, hands soft at her sides.

I've learned to lose you can't afford to.

Her foot flexed but she remained otherwise still as two other dancers joined her, falling from the wings with a soft flourish, pulling at their shirts as if trying to escape their confines.

Tore my shirt to stop you bleeding.

More dancers, suddenly, running swiftly onto the stage as the dancer at the center released her leg extension and joined them in a cluster, disappearing as she melted back into the sea of grey; no longer alone, but no longer special, either.

The lights flashed from blue to red, the whole ensemble moving together as one entity - expanding and contracting, lifting up onto the toes of one foot, leaning preacriously to one side until they nearly toppled over.

But nothing ever stops you leaving.

They all tugged the shoulder of each other's shirts, appearing to try and stabalize one another before it became apparent they were trying to pull each other off balance.

Kakashi did not notice he was leaning forward, perched on the edge of the uncomfortable auditorium chair as he watched.

The cluster dispersed, dancers flying in every direction, some cascading to the floor while others leapt through the air, each face painted with an expression of anguish, remorse, fear.

They all stopped suddenly, swaying on their feet; turned away from each other, staring at the floor, solemn.

The lights cut out.

Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own.

Bright yellow lights burst across the stage like the flashes of cameras, the music swelled.

One dancer fell to the floor, clambered forward from one knee to the other, rolling over each pointed foot, clutching their chest. Another fell on top, resting his head on their shoulder, wrapping his arms around them as if to cradle and reassure.

But the first dancer struggled against it, tried to pull themself free.

I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that.

Kakashi watched as the piece evolved, as moments of sadness and anger were punctuated by joy, by love. The lights wavered back to blue, ripened to orange and then rotten purple.

Slowly, those better moments overwhelmed the others, quelled the upset and the regret and replaced them with exultation. The dancers saw one another struggle, helped one another overcome. Rather than separate and isolated, they moved together again, one dancer propping another up as they fell.

The music crescendoed.

Let's just let it go, let me let you go.

The first dancer took her place at center stage again, but this time, instead of alone, the others joined her, all sweeping their leg up, up, up. Some weren't as steady, some not as flexible.

They all smiled.

I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that.

They flexed their feet as one as the music ended with a soft tinkling of piano keys.

The lights faded to nothing, darkness swallowed their beaming faces.

The audience erupted in applause, parents and friends and family all celebrating as the lights came back and the performers took their bows. Some in the crowd stood, many shouted. The dancers all laughed, giddy and pleased with themselves, as they beckoned Saya on stage to take one final bow with them.

Kakashi was the first to leave, the excitement of the crowd trailing behind him, falling quiet as the heavy door swung closed in his wake.

He smiled the entire way home, the carnation still clutched carefully between his fingers, and he finally understood why Saya did not find recitals or their preparation to be a waste of her time or talent.

#kakaoc #kakaoc fanfiction #oc: saya #modern au #dance au #lemony scribbles #music prompt #oh shit lem wrote something???????????????????????????????#spotify wrapped fic-o-rama #took me forever to figure out what tag i designated for this BACK IN DECEMBER and when i saw it all i could think was REALLY as;dfjasd;f

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