Waltz in (Itsuki, Sumi)

Itsuki walked around the traditional district of Kageoka. The streets bustled with life, and many hand-made objects were sold, from beautiful ceramic vases to tickets to traditional plays and dances.

It was like a stroll back to the days of old, like he was transported back to the Taisho Era, hell, it looked even older than that.

Back in his days, Itsuki never thought much of the district. He had no reason to go there, even if he knew Koharu loved the district and frequented it often.

He was too busy thinking about machines, software, and computer stuff to like the old plays and odd vendors that made up the traditional district.

Maybe if he had shown more interest in her wants, her likings, then maybe she would end up with him… Itsuki looked at the ground, perishing his thoughts with bitterness.

He passed the point of no return long ago; reminiscing about it was useless.

He knew Sumi would be there, as he had been and still was part of the club; he knew their schedule, including a planned trip to one of the traditional district’s many art houses.

He was there to meet someone, the Bohemian Club leader, Sumi Ayaka herself.

She was with her thralls, for lack of better words. She led them around, her aura imposing, beautiful, and regal in every way one could think of.

Her presence fit for a muse, a near mystical and divine magnificence and pride in her pose and face. Was she always that way? He couldn’t tell.

Nor could he be sure if the thing floating near her was always there, an Idolon. When one was so lost in the depths of the mist, perception, reality, and what was before them became fogged and hidden, reality itself numbed and blurred.

Like a newborn opening its eyes for the first time, a brand new world was revealed before tired, healing eyes.

He had seen a world of color, but not one of meaning, as the world he saw before was one of a mix of colors, chaotically arranged in the canvas without order or deeper thought, a mess, but a beautiful one, but that person made the world seem orderly, like it had meaning.

Each color, stroke, and movement had a purpose behind it. The world had a deeper meaning when she was around. The canvas rearranged itself to become another piece, one carefully crafted and woven with passion and devotion.

Memories of when he was with Momo flowed back in his mind.

Many times, there were fights that he was ordered around, and strength was used, where pushing yourself to the limit was natural in the middle of a brawl.

The time when he battled against the Crone, a punished sinner who went far past his body’s own limitations for an objective, a meaning.

And lastly, recently, as he has battled against that thing from beyond, a servant of death, where one’s boundaries had no meaning, and he had burned himself like a dying star, even as he could not remember it anymore.

There was a drive in his will, and time has resumed running for him, but the purpose for his actions. It faltered.

All of that will need a purpose, a way to channel it towards somewhere, and not let it remain idled. That still lake was to be made into a river, raging back into the great ocean beyond.

She had the mentality, the methods, and the knowledge to apply purpose in the methods she used, not an action wasted, and every accidental, random, or mistake of her brush could be spun into an essential part of the piece she wanted to portray.

In that dance, they shared, Sumi tried to teach him something: to have more passion, emotion, and feel something. That help was required for him to proceed and make something great; others were needed.

He needed help.

Help him understand himself.

And to learn how to make his actions meaningful.

Live and act, not survive and repeat worn-out, rehearsed lines.

In the halls of art, none was greater and more attention-drawing than Sumi in that moment.

Itsuki pushed himself forward.

He knew he would act like a fool, and she had all right to outright reject him, but it took two to tango, and he needed a partner.

A teacher, more than anything else.

Someone who could force him to acknowledge something he couldn't see deep inside, something hard to realize.

A part of him hated her for forcing him to make that picture, the memories and humiliation, the pain, it made him flinch, but something greater inside of him forced his foot to move, and his body to act despite how foolish it would be.

Unbecoming, rude.

Yet, the flame, the desire, to be more, achieve greater heights, stand shoulder to shoulder with those who helped others, those unspoken heroes, repay his sins, achieve redemption, those feelings, ideals, moved him forward.

An 18-year-old boy now shed his shame, as it was burned by ambition, and carried away by kindness to become a good person.

Sumi noticed him, her red eyes locked up with his. Emotion widened them, elation rose as that cold and unrefined gem she had found radiated heat, faint as it was.

There was emotion behind the once cold sapphire-colored eyes!

The aching of a heart. The shame of a flustered man, and the determination of a growing boy.

She spun on her feet and walked toward him. Suddenly, the art gallery lost all of its glimmer, as she had found something worthy of her appreciation and attention.

That gem was suddenly polished and carved. Her heart felt envious of the one who managed to carve him, small and as out of view as her carving was. She was oblivious to the gem-carving that happened out of her view.

It annoyed her, someone had chimed in on her work and made it a joint effort; she hated it. She was never fond of sharing a project as fun and interesting as the one she had in her hands. Yet it was not too late to steer the ship in the direction she wanted and supervise his growth, despite the involvement of a third party.

Yes, it was her project in the end, even as others came in and tried to make that work a group effort.

She would finish that work and reap the rewards, even if he ended up taking on colors outside of her control.

A glance at him told all that was needed to know: That gem sought to be carved more, its qualities polished by others.

It was heartwarming the fact that she was sought out for polishing him. Those blue eyes were like those of a lost puppy, but he would not remain lost for long.

Emotion blossomed in her chest, the desire to see how far that bird would fly, how far the horse would push the cart behind it?

They stopped before each other, as Sumi cracked a victorious smile. “The prodigal son returns to the home, it seems.”

Her smile made Itsuki almost regret coming to her for help. Almost.

She got closer to him, way too close, and cupped his cheeks, like she was appraising a puppy after it had grown a little.

Sumi hated to admit it, but it felt as if the one who dared to taint her piece had done a good job, too much of a good job for her to like it. If he went to that person… she would need to supervise him, lest he strayed too far from the original design.

Her hands were warm, uncomfortable in a way that he was not accustomed to. She was attractive, cupping his cheeks, it drew from him feelings Itsuki never learned how to deal with; hell, he never felt them so intensely as now.

People looked at them, but it hardly did anything to deter the leader of the Bohemian Club, as she appraised him, the changes, how much he had grown in her absence. It was satisfactory. She would entertain him.

“You have to come for a reason. What do you want?” Sumi talked softly, dropping his cheeks, as Itsuki resisted the urge to grimace.

“I want you to teach me how to dance.” Their eyes met, blue against red. There was a different intent this time, it was different from the idle apathy she felt during their dance sometime ago. It was not to make a piece, no. That was a plea to learn, to be taught, what it took to make a piece in the first place, how to properly dance.

Wordlessly, she took his hand and forced the beginning of the dance.

At first, Sumi controlled the pace of their dance. She was the one in command, and Itsuki was forced to adapt to her pace, or step on her feet.

A glance at her face showed she was ready to scream at the very first mistake he made; there was no margin for error, it was sink or swim, and he had slept with fish for far too long.

“I wonder, why do you want to learn how to dance?” Sumi asked, but Itsuki had no window to answer, as he was dragged around by her way smaller frame, drawing a strange dichotomy between them.

Itsuki at first tried to match her step by step. It was a duel once again, and he was on his back foot.

Sumi wondered how long it would take him to answer the question, as it did not require words, but action.

Itsuki was in a miserable state, as Sumi seemed to enjoy herself. Her question hammered in his head.

He wanted to find purpose, a way to motivate himself, something to strive for.

Not to follow other people mindlessly.

Then he caught it.

He was trying to mimic Sumi.

This was wrong.

With a sharp breath, he tried to wrestle control of the dance, but quickly caught on to his foolishness:

"Oh, just the little fact you would have humiliated yourself on your own. This piece came together because of us. You danced well because we danced well."

They were on this together. It was not a struggle for control.

Itsuki changed gears.

He tried to mix his own pace and his tempo with Sumi’s. It was clumsy, it was hard to make it flow well, but that pace was his.

Sumi smiled. It seemed their first dance had not gone to waste. Then, it was time for a second question: “And what motivated you to learn how to dance? What reason made you suddenly decide you wanted a waltz?” She said softly, seeing Itsuki struggle with his own pace, not hers.

It was an improvement, and it made her heart swell with some joy at how quick-witted he was. He hadn't needed even a single humiliation or a good session of whipping to learn!

“I had lost access to my Idolon. I can’t no longer use it… and I.” Itsuki gritted his teeth, as his solar plexus pulsated. Those flames, that power he called upon to help Shu.

He wanted to tame them, but he didn’t know how. His solar plexus ached again.

Then he realized. Sumi was not the end-all to his questions; what he needed the most at that moment, she just… was like a friend to him.

No, that was wrong. There was no way Itsuki would be friends with her, no, she was just someone he sought for guidance, yes.

A mentor, a teacher.

His solar plexus continued to ache, as if telling him the one who could fix his situation was not Sumi, but the mummy that started all of this mess.

Yet, why did he seek Sumi? His head spun with contradictory statementand s, his cheeks threatened to blush. He needed to get out there and find a way to fix himself from that old crone.

Get an answer from her, and nott wait for the answer to find him, but for him to find it. Sumi seemed to feel that change in Itsuki, and her mood was soiled. “Don’t you dare, whatever you are thinking of doing, I disapprove of it.”

Itsuki gave her a wide smile. “Sorry, and I am glad for your help. Now I need to go find-”

Sumi stomped on his feet with all her might, but sadly, it wasn't enough to make Itsuki even flinch. She pouted petulantly, like a child who had her playtime cut short.

“If you are going to lambaste my effort, at least dare to show me the one you are trading me for!”

Itsuki sighed.

‘Why is my life filled with so many crazy women?’

Then, a flash of Shu’s ran past his eyes.

‘And crazy man too.’ A break seemed too far away.

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Pub: 30 Oct 2025 20:53 UTC

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