another fanfic;
Title: slauqe/equals
Author: maleroleactress
Fandom: Sailor Moon, AU
Summary: They move, perfectly in sync...
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They move, perfectly in sync.
It’s been like this since the very first time they danced together; back when Setsuna had called Haruka forth - on a last minute whim - to try her luck as substitute for Tsukigumi’s top otokoyaku, Aoki Akane, who (highly unexpected) had got herself pregnant one year before her contract ran out. At that point, she and the newly-transferred Kaioh Michiru had already been through the initial choreography rehearsals. Something that didn’t make the sudden need for a new otokoyaku lead any easier. All Takarazuka actresses were aware of how difficult it could be to change the personal style of a routine once you’d already danced it more than once with someone. Impossible it’s not - they’re all professionals - but it can be fatal for the end result.
Still, Haruka hadn’t even considered declining the possibility Setsuna was offering her when she nodded her head once (a short, wordless nod) in the blonde’s direction. Haruka’s never been afraid of a challenge - not then and not now. If anything, she finds such a dare inspiring. An invitation to outdo herself and push the borders of how things are carried out just that extra inch.
Reaching out her hand, she’d fixed her gaze on Michiru.
Until that moment, they could as well have been strangers. When their eyes met, however, (grey on blue) and Michiru had smiled the smile Haruka would later come to learn was half-teasing and half-praising at the same time, something happened. A kind of freedom. Liberation like nothing Haruka had ever experienced before. Michiru cocked her head and took her hand, her grip soft, and allowed Haruka to pull her into a waltz-pose. Natural. It felt… natural.
Then they’d danced. No less smoothly than at this instant; no less perfectly.
Now, as they fly - fly being the only word that fully describes it - across the stage, feet shifting and shins brushing together almost unnoticable, Haruka wonders why she finds it so easy (freeing) to dance with Michiru. More so than with any other musumeyaku before her.
She can’t find the words.
A sudden but not unanticipated change of balance; Michiru twists her hips, letting Haruka shape her body into the curving arch of arms aligned and backs bent that indicates the approaching end of their dance sequence. Like a semi-colon. Slowly, ever so slowly, Haruka lifts Michiru up, off the floor, towards the scorching downpour of brilliant whiteness from the spotlights hanging far above their heads.
Their full stop. The applause is overwhelming. The show is over.
Relaxing her shoulders, Haruka eases Michiru down, releasing the shorter woman’s waist as the other sinks down into an elegant curtsy in front of her, her aquamarine hair in vivid contrast to her black and red Latino dress. Through lowered lashes, she looks up at Haruka, her eyes glowing from laughter. In return, Haruka performs a deep bow, her ruby lips forming a satisfied smile.
Mirrors. They’re functioning as each other’s reflections. In perfect sync. That’s why...
They dance like this, Michiru and her, because Michiru isn’t only led through the movements, and Haruka not only leading. When Haruka pulls Michiru with her through the routine, she herself follows in her partner’s footsteps into each and every move. To Michiru, Haruka knows, every new change of pose is art in itself. Expression. Unhesitant.
And seeing how Michiru never hesitates to follow, Haruka never takes full control. There’s always a spark of equality left between them. That’s why - the sole reason - neither of them fall behind.