Before you know it, it's over. Everything you've worked so hard for is over in the blink of an eye. The name which belongs to you is no longer yelled from the stands, nor printed in newspapers accompanied by praise or pander. All those months of practice; all the arguments you had with your partner; the money spent; the sweat poured; the blood spilled – In the end, no matter how much promise you have, the innate talent or the gruelling effort, everything is feeble in comparison to what you're really fighting.
The saying 'time waits for no man' has lasted aeons for the fact it is as constant as taxes and death – both of which are eternal.
So, when you're waiting there on the edge of the line, whether it's to go out in the First Heat, or as you're about to hear the results, remember that whatever you're feeling is temporary. Laughter or tears, it's all the same. In the end, despite the stress, and the hurt, and sacrifices you have to make, remember that you are going to come back. Remember, because being a dancer makes you a masochist by default.
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Time Is A Thief
FanfictionThe Hyōdō Dance Studio's status quo is tipped, spinned, dipped, and pranced through when Marisa's first charity case returns to help out as an instructor in payment for her refuge. Stubborn beyond comprehension, the young woman on the run from her s...
