Time Is A Thief

Have A Go

Four Days Later

Afternoon sunlight shone in through the long windows of the second-floor dance studio and the familiar sound of practice shoes clipping off the hardwood flooring stagnated in the humid air. In the beginning, Tatara wasn't sure how he would feel about having a previous international champion around to spot his mistakes, but it turned out Valentina wasn't quite the snobby elitist he had expected. Kicking his shoes off in the foyer and replacing them with his practice shoes, the short boy put his sneakers on the rack and shrugged his bag onto his shoulder. Venturing into the open space, he saw a couple of the regulars learning the basics he had tortured himself with several months prior. Overseeing the elderly pair of ladies giggling like schoolgirls, a young couple clearly in the early stage of their relationship, and the eight others who came along to make friends with the same hobby paired-up going through the motions, Valentina weaved through the group giving pointers and correcting posture with an uncharacteristically light hand. God, how he wished he was on the receiving end of that tender touch rather than the ragging and strikes to his joints that he was subjected to by her. The woman could make a temple guardian-spirit quake with the power that came from those stubby arms. Maybe even more than the physical abuse dished out in the name of 'professional advice', her flips in temperament gave him emotional whiplash.

"Good afternoon," he bowed his head to the receptionist and scribbled his name down on the sign-in sheet before showing the same polite acknowledgement to a few of the others he had conversed with since his admission. "It's busy today."

The woman behind the desk nodded with a smile. "With the amateur competitions coming up, lots of people are upping their practice time." Flicking through the magazine in front of her, she looked up at the boy. "Hiyama Chan called ahead to say she'll be late."

Twiddling the pen in his hand, Tatara hummed. "She has to look after her younger siblings for the next hour." Gesturing to the changing rooms, he held up his bag. "I'll just do some shadow drills while I wait."

"Haah?" The voice of a thug vibrated behind the small brunet as hot breath brushed his ear. "Is that what you'll do?"

Spinning around with his hands up in premature submission, Tatara looked up with wide eyes. "Is there something wrong with that?" He really wanted to know, he wasn't trying to pick a fight.

"How about we have a go?"

"A go?" The brunet's expression constricted at the slang which could easily be misconstrued.

The blonde loomed over him, her teeth bared in a wide grin as narrowed crescent eyes encircled in black liner peered down. "Will you show me how you dance, Tata Cchin?"

Jesus Christ, he didn't understand how such a pleasant-looking person could morph into a demon from a Seinen manga in 0.3 seconds while still using such an alluring tone. She was definitely not human. A Harpy, that's it. She was actually a demon in a woman's skin.

Tatara backed up until he was against the desk. The way she asked him made him feel as though he didn't have much choice in the matter – like a lion cornering a mouse. She was just like Sengoku: All blonde, and tall, and persuasive with that expression which made her seem like she knew something he didn't. And when the Hell did she make up that nickname?

Holding his breath due to the woman inching in every time he forced himself back, the brunet could only nod. "I'll get changed and warm-up."

Turning around, she flapped her hand over her shoulder. "Don't take too long. You have until break begins, which is..." checking the clock on the wall, she calculated the simple math. "three minutes." Without waiting for a compromise, she went back to circling the small cluster of dancers going through the motions.