#sing with me a song of birthrights and love
A shrill sound filled the room, jolting Yuuri. It took a second for it to register as his phone alarm, the recesses of his dream sliding off him like slime. Already he couldn’t remember anything. Anything but an odd otherness. Something… different than the usual dream inconsistency, but more in line with the sparks of feeling he’d get sometimes growing up in the orphanage. The feeling he didn’t belong there, with the other kids. Not that he was something more. But that it just wasn’t his place.
He groaned as the alarm continued. A joyful rendition of Spring that he usually liked but gradually turned grating the more he had to hear it at six am. First order of business when his hand collided painfully with the floor was to snooze his phone. Then he stretched further for his glasses. Once he put them on- and snoozed the second alarm- he grabbed his phone to turn off the rest of the alarms. A yawn stretched his mouth and he let his phone drop to his chest.
Classes didn’t actually start for another two hours. But he liked to get in the studio early. To say he was awkward would be an understatement. Having time alone to stretch and practice was preferable. It let him really work on what he wanted to. Still, it could be a chore waking up so early. Another yawn ripped itself from him. Finally he sat up. It was time to actually get ready.
The lights were off when he got to the studio. Early on, the teacher had given him a copy of the key. Apparently his early start hadn’t gone unnoticed, back when a custodian would let him in an hour early. At first he wasn’t sure about it. But she’d been adamant it was fine. He grew to really appreciate it. It took a few seconds for the lights to fully turn on. They were fairly old. Really the whole building was. A one room with mirrors along a wall, a barre in front of a section of them, and hardwood floors. Almost a minute passed where the lights slowly got brighter until the room was washed in light. He took off his shoes and traded them for his ballet slippers before padding further in. The room was cold, but the stretching would warm him up.
Currently the set they had was based off a myth. It wasn’t one he really knew before this. Mythology and legends had never really caught his attention, unless it was performed and he’d never actually found a performance for this. But it was a story his teacher knew. A myth about the leader of a clan during the feudal period, who’d disappeared after his clan had been wiped out. He had gone to fight a rival clan on his own so his own could escape. But they returned despite his orders, unwilling to let him face the much greater enemy alone. Men and women; children and elderly, to protect the leader they loved. It was a massacre. Everyone was killed. Except the leader, who was left behind, injured but alive with just the remnants of his clan around him. Losing his people left him so distraught a storm opened above him and when it dissipated, he had vanished with it. Yuuri could understand the desire to vanish. Though he’d never experienced loss anywhere close to what the leader in the story did. Still, as the date for the performance drew even closer, the thought of vanishing was even more tempting than normal. What possessed his teacher to make him, the quietest in the group, the main role he didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to ask.
With a breath he closed his eyes. And let the wood and mirror and barre- let the building - vanish from his mind. A clearing replaced it. Packed dirt under his feet, just loose enough to send up small clouds at his every footfall. Cloudless sky over his head, a midday that would darken to a false night in only hours. He let one foot slide forward, an arm extend out. As he did his arm transformed into a sword, silver curling up and past his skin to shape itself into metal. On a spin he lifted to en pointe. The sword flashed out in front of him, a part of his dance. Right now, the floor was devoid of enemies. But that would change. He’d spin and step around them, always one step ahead, until one of the dancers would send his sword scattering and the tables would turn. An unfair battle from the beginning only then showing its face. He spun again, jumped and purposely staggered.
The bang of the door slamming open broke his concentration. Yuuri jolted. The purposeful stagger almost turned to a fall. His eyes flew open and everything flowed back in at once. What time was it? There was no way someone else was actually coming in to practice right now. A bit panicked, he slowly looked to the mirror in front of him. And… this wasn’t one of the other dancers. He wasn’t actually sure they were even a college student. Sure, he was a little short for someone his age so he couldn’t really say much. But this kid was small . Willowy in a way that didn’t distract from his short stature but practically enhanced it. A furious look flitted across their features and settled in green eyes as their eyes met through the mirror. Yuuri squeaked as they started toward him. Their steps could only be described as ‘war path’. Bare feet slapped wet prints in a trail across the floor. And- it hadn’t been raining when Yuuri walked in. The tin roof would echo like a drumbeat when it rained, sometimes like a metronome keeping pace, but it’d been silent the entire time. There was no rain. Still, the puddles on the floor and the way long blonde hair clung damp to the other spoke of rain. Finally, Yuuri found his voice. “You can’t come in here like that.”
They tsked at him and Yuuri flinched again. Then, strangest of all, they got to their knees. Suddenly, Yuuri froze as a complete stranger bowed to him. It was perhaps a weird thing to panic about. Whatever oddness this was was on them, not him. But that didn’t stop the feeling from rising. “You- you don’t-” Don’t what ? They have to know they don’t have to bow to him. What was he saying? Still, the words tried to come. To tell this stranger whatever this was was unnecessary. (Weird, too, but Yuuri wasn’t sure he could force himself to admit that outloud.)
A look of annoyance from them clamped his mouth shut. Any further protest he could’ve mustered was bowled over by the stranger’s words. “I swear never to desert my post before your throne. Do you accept?” If he hadn’t already been staring, those words would’ve made him. As he was, now the words only made him mute. Or, more mute. Like every word had vacated his brain. Leaving it empty and hollow. The person looked up at him, green eyes so scathing Yuuri blanched. “ Do you accept? ” Each word was harsh. Like if he gave the wrong answer pain would befall him. Even though they were smaller than him, Yuuri had no trouble believing they would deliver. He swallowed against a dry throat.
“I… guess?” The look he received was flat. But Yuuri couldn’t help the question. A stranger just walked in, getting the floor wet, bowed to him, and asked if he accepted something he couldn’t even understand. A throne? If it wasn’t for his glaring lack of friends or enemies or really acquaintances of any kind outside his teacher, he’d think he was being pranked. Really, maybe he was being pranked. Picked on for being the quiet kid. The shy kid. It’s not like it would be the first time. “What is going on?”
The flat look deepened. Like being asked for an explanation offended him. Despite Yuuri feeling like it should be a reasonable request. Yuuri had to fight the gut reaction to apologize. In quick steps they were by his side and took his arm to drag him outside with a strength their body didn’t show. The world outside was dry and cool with the early morning light. But it darkened around them. A sudden storm out of nowhere. Like the story he’d just been imagining. The sound of rain filtered in, but none touched. His brain reeled slightly at the disconnect. Until his body went weightless and it reeled for a fully different reason. “ Wait -” Yuuri called in his confusion. But the sound of the storm stole the word. Ripped it from his throat and threw it from the world. Everything else began to filter in. Rain pelted the side of his face, matting his hair and staining his glasses. It seeped cold through his clothes. A flash of lightning lit a sky he didn’t know. Thunder echoed it. And his body went from weightless to falling.
