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WAKIAGARU
The Dancer

The Dancer

“More,” Kaiya said, pushing another bowl of the soft rice onto Sakura.

Her nose had bled after she had healed so many people the day before. She didn’t think she had pushed herself so hard. She only healed some of them just enough to where she could feel her own energies being drawn from her body and into theirs. She hated being pampered, especially by so many people.

She was in the tent, and by the look of things, the sun was now shining in the yard after the rains last night. In the middle of the tent was a crackling hot brazier. She chewed the soft rice, practically drinking it as her family and friends watched, chatting quietly and occasionally offering her whatever comfort they could.

“Enough,” she said. “I’m not dying.” She got up and maneuvered her way to where Yoko was sitting, her hands atop her thighs. Sakura put an arm around her. “How do you feel?”

Her younger sister looked at her, smiled and nodded. “I feel good. But I’m scared.” Sakura smiled encouragingly. “There’s nothing to fear. We’re with the emperor and his army is all around us. Don’t be silly.” To everyone else in the tent, she added, “Now that’s enough taking care of me. You can see I’m fine.”

“But Sakura—“ Tomii began.

She cut him off. “I’m fine. Daijoubu!”

They all looked at her dubiously, but were distracted when Lawrence walked through the entrance. Their eyes, including hers, swept across him. There was a moment when no one spoke.

“What are you wearing?” Kaiya asked.

Lawrence raised a skeptical looking eyebrow as he surveyed himself. “Nothing.”

Kaiya cocked her head. “Nothing? Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing.’”

Sakura could feel her mother’s disapproval from across the tent. Sakura wasn’t sitting next to her friend, otherwise she’d have given the other woman a nudge to make her behave herself.

“It was what was available,” Lawrence said. “What’s wrong with it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Sakura said, standing from where she was sitting with her sister. “How are you feeling, Roren-su?”

“I’m quite well. Thank you.” He looked at her for a moment, then greeted everyone, nodding to Hitomo and Yukio respectfully.

Why is everyone so quiet?

“Are you well?” he asked. “I forgot to thank you for what you did. With everything, I suppose I simply forgot in all the confusion.”

She smiled without thinking. “I feel…” she hitched the quilt up higher onto her shoulders, realized what she was doing. “I feel much better. Arigatou!”

Her cheeks were heating. Why were her cheeks heating? Kami-sama! There were too many people watching. Why was she like this right now? She was a dancer, a public performer. Sakura shifted, trying to seem casual and unconcerned, all the while her mother’s eyes were roving about, looking for something she could burst into flames.

She needed to say something instead of acting like a little fool.

“You still haven’t told us why you’re dressed this way,” Kaiya said, still looking at him up and down. She made some faces, but Sakura could tell she was simply trying to get a rise. Out of herself or Lawrence, she couldn’t tell.

He broke eye contact with her and turned his attention about the room. He seemed to be searching for something. Was he making eye contact with her father?

He seemed quite unconcerned, though Tomii had a strange look on his face. She couldn’t read it. She wanted to ask what was going on.

Finally Lawrence broke the silence. “I’m going to the harbor. A sortie is being prepared to clear the way,” he said in answer to Kaiya’s question a moment ago. “It seems mages are in short supply in the emperor’s army.”

“I hope you’re getting paid.”

“Kaiya,” Tomiichi said. “That’s rude.”

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Lawrence smiled. Then he turned back to Sakura and asked her the last thing she thought would come out of his mouth. “Would you care to walk with me, Sakura-san?”

“Umm.” She was taken off guard with the question. “Of course. I, umm…”

Oh wait.

She looked to her father. He nodded immediately, amidst her mother’s crossed arms. Her heart jumped, but she was careful not to show too much outward excitement as she moved to her mat and slipped her hiyori geta sandals on over her white, split-toed tabi. She wanted to smack that smirk off Kaiya’s face, but it didn’t matter, now.

Thankfully Yumiko hadn’t said a word.

He swept under the tent flap, holding it open for her as he gestured that she go first. He followed, walking up beside her. She allowed him to lead the way, though they had to stop for a moment while a group of twelve or so samurai jogged past the tents as they made their way to the other end of the camp.

Neither of them spoke as they made their way to the gardens. Sakura’s heart was fluttering harder than when she had to dance a full circle performance. She glanced toward him, but couldn’t meet his eyes.

Instead, she looked about, to the beauty of the temple and the hills. Patches of sunlight moved among dark shadows. If not for the dark storm clouds hanging about, it would have been a wonderful summer day, but even so, the fragrance of so many summer flowers in bloom almost seemed dull to her senses.

“Sakura,” he said.

“Yes?” she practically interrupted him.

He chuckled, stopped and looked at her for a moment. “I… Nakamura-san.”

“Call me Sakura.”

He smiled. “Sakura. I’m not very good at this, so I’ll simply convey my intentions to court you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but then she felt the inevitable downturn of disappointment. “Court me?”

The mage seemed somewhat confused for a moment. “Yes. I know it’s not your custom, but I wish to further reveal to you my character.”

Her cheeks were so hot.

“I think I know your character.”

“Do you?” He turned, looking off into the mountains.

“I think so,” she said. “I’ve been watching you.”

“This gladdens me.” He didn’t turn to look at her. He picked a flower, more like pulled it up, snapping the stem at its neck by the bloom. He turned. “I may be well known, but I do have my detractors. You may hear things.”

Her heart was beating so fast. “I don’t care.”

“Don’t you?”

“Father and Tomii seem to think you’re an honorable man.” She stepped closer, trying not to swallow. “And I’ve told you… I’ve been watching you.”

He smiled, picked a pedal from the flower head and flicked it away. “That’s hardly an in-depth knowledge of what sort of man I am. We all have our outer characters—the reputations we’re known by.”

She stifled a giggle. “Is it you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you wish to gather more knowledge about me, to get an in-depth look at my character?”

His shoulders shook and they laughed together. “No.” There was a long pause between them as they looked into each other’s eyes.

If he comes in for a kiss I’ll—

“No,” he added. “Sakura. I want you to be mine.” His words came out, not a gasp, but they were breathy. Or perhaps she was imagining it?

She found herself drawing in more air, their bodies close. “I… I don’t think my mother would approve of our bodily distance.”

Flinching slightly, he stepped back. Her body followed his, unwilling to accept that distance he now put between them.

I’m such a harebrained idiot!

“I don’t know why I said that.”

“Nevertheless it’s true. Your father and your brother trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“Perhaps you trust too easily.”

“You believe so? Then why did you draw me into this garden? Ro-rensu, I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Neither have I,” he said. “Perhaps I’m a fool for wanting to court you first.”

She sniffed, her mirth and mild incredulity evident in her own voice. “You’re no fool.” She stepped nearer to him, her fingers reaching for his vambraced forearm. “If you’re a mercenary, you’re a mercenary who sits in the council of emperors. You’ve fought battles. Lead defenseless people to safety at the risk of your own life. You’ve saved my life more than once.”

“I’ve lost battles as well.”

She smiled. He would tell her why he had reservations. “We all lose battles. You’re not trying to lose this one, are you?”

He was so close now.

The mage grasped the flower in his hand. Not roughly, but hard enough to bend the delicate pedals there. “My motives…” He turned from her.

“Weren’t wholly motivated by selflessness? By me?” She asked the questions too sharply. She softened her tone, chuckled. He seemed taken aback by that. “Please. I may be a young maiden inexperienced in some things, but I’m not a pretty little fool.”

“Maybe I like pretty little fools.”

She laughed, batted her eyelashes at him as she made a lithe feminine gesture worthy of a pretty little fool.

Now it was his turn to laugh. “Fine, Lawrence. We can court for a time. On one condition.”

“Yes?”

“We set a date for our official engagement. That is what you do in your land, is it not?”

He took a moment, a wry smile on his face. “Something of that sort,” he said. “You bargain hard.”

She smiled. For some reason all of her nervousness had simply melted away once she had become aware of his concerns.

“I am twenty-three.”

“Indeed, you are.”

“Incidentally, Ro-rensu…”

“Yes?”

“How old are you?”

“Do you see why I wish to court?”

“Minor details.”

“Perhaps.”

“How old?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“I see.”

“What?

“You’re older than I thought.”

“Are you calling me old?”

She found herself standing on her toes atop his feet. It probably hurt, but he made no indication that this was the case. Her hands were now atop his forearms.

She smiled, feeling confident in herself. “Never.”

She took her left hand and used his shoulder to pull up to his mouth and they kissed. Physically it wasn’t as sweet an experience as she had imagined, but it was still the sweetest thing she’d ever done.

When they parted, she almost giggled.