InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Save the Last Dance ❯ Save the Last Dance ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Inu-Yasha, nor do I technically own the title to this fic.

Author's Note: Not really very much to say except that this is, in no way, related to the movie `Save the Last Dance' and that I hope you enjoy. ^_^

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--- Save the Last Dance ---

And one, two, three, four. . . one, two, three, four. . .

Left foot, right foot- left foot, right. . .

Spin with grace and poise.

Reaching my arms high above my head and tilting my face to the sky, I allow the soft, sweet rhythm of the instrumental music to take hold of my body; drinking in the blue glow that brightens the dim auditorium.

No one else is at school. . .

No one else is around.

Just me. . .

The music.

And my thoughts.

Left foot, right foot, left foot- right. Sashay- leap- spin.

Even after all this time- what has it been, 4 months?- I still cannot let go of my saddens. My anger. My disappointment.

It isn't supposed to be like this. My life- it isn't supposed to *feel* like this. And after all that has happened. . . I blame dancing. I want nothing more than to never dance again! I still can't figure out what drove me to practicing tonight. . .

But I felt I should.

So here- watch as I dance my last dance.

Left, right, criss-cross, twirl.

I had been happy. . . Oh so very happy. When he was my partner, when he was my friend. . . when he was my love. And God, how I loved him! He was sweet, he was dangerous, he was exciting, he was handsome. He was everything I'd ever dreamed of in a boy- no, a man- and so much more. When no one else listened, who did I turn to? Him.

When no one else cared, who did I turn to? Him.

When no one would help me, who did I turn to? Him.

When no one would share the last dance with me, who did I turn to? Him.

And when boys did start to ask to dance with me- I'd always save him the last.

But. . .When did things changed between us? Why did he leave me alone on the stage? Why has he forsaken me?

One of my long, slender legs stretches towards the ceiling, curling slightly as I arch my back and peer up at the white plaster through my lashes. Is this what loneliness feels like? It's been so long since I've felt it. . . But does it feel like being stranded beneath the cold lights of the theater during the darkest of nights?

That's how I feel now.

I'm not supposed to dance alone.

It was how I always spent the last dance. But then- then I met him. . .

Left, right, left, right- turn and bend- and stop. Hold it.

Ignore the applause.

. . .

Applause. . . ?

Dropping my arms to my sides as if they are suddenly made of lead, I glance hurriedly towards the entrance of the empty high school auditorium- and register who I see standing there in complete bewilderment.

Inu-Yasha.

Leaning causally against the doorway in all his silver haired glory.

But what. . . ? Why is. . . ?

He continues his slow, brisk clapping for a few moments, not noticing the shiver that runs down my spine as the noise echoes eerily throughout the empty room. My CD player falls silent as the track ends, providing none of the blessed white noise I need to function.

But what is he. . . ?

After a moment he allows his hands to come to a stop, still clasped together, before casually stuffing them in the back pockets of his tight black jeans. He takes a few steps forward, his baggy red shirt an odd shade of brown in the darkness- the black coat hanging lazily upon his left shoulder reminding me of a cape a bullfighter wears.

But what is he doing here. . . ?

Our eyes connect for a moment- his luscious golden ones an odd mixture of emotions: pride, sorrow, amusement. . .

My posture automatically straightens; my shoulders rolling back and my spine stiffening. I school my expression and pray that he cannot detect my puffy eyes through the dim lighting.

". . . Hey," he murmurs after a moment, a small, half smile on his face as he casually trails towards the stage- his tennis shoes making the most muffled and weak of scuffing sounds as he walks. "How are you?"

"I've been better," I reply in curt tones, stretching my arms over my head and turning away, telling myself firmly to hold in the tears.

I don't want to see him anymore. . .

Not after what happened. . .

Not after HER. . .

"You looked really spectacular," he comments in a rather good-natured tone. "Your form is improving and your movements are much more fluid." From the corner of my eye I see him push his fists a little further into each pocket, leaning back slightly and flicking his neck so his hair stays behind him. "You'll win any contest without a partner."

I do not reply, instead opting to march mechanically over to my stereo (bluntly ignoring Inu-Yasha) and press play once more; allowing the music to take control of my body and mind.

Unfortunately, it is harder to do than it was before- now that he is watching me with never blinking pools of molten gold. Not to mention that his occasional, enclosing footsteps seem to do nothing but throw me off beat.

"Could you please go away?" I ask politely as my torso and head gracefully drop down, parallel to my left leg as my right straightens above my head.

"No."

. . .

What?!

I begin to glance up, to glare- - -

When I find that our eyes are level, our noses almost brushing, all due to the fact that he had carefully snuck up to the edge of the stage- resting his crossed arms upon it and supporting his chin with his elbows.

"What do you want, Inu-Yasha. . . ?" I inquire in a whisper, my eyes narrowing slightly as I cat roll to my normal stance, unable to resist putting a hand on my slim hip. "I'm not your dance partner anymore. Remember?"

"I know," he replies simply. He neither denies it-

Nor objects-

Nor says anything whatsoever as I turn slightly and begin to dance again: left foot.

Right foot.

Left.

Right.

Sashay.

Spi- - - -

!

I cannot help but gasp allowed as I feel myself collide with a warm, muscular chest- a chest smelling sweetly of cinnamon and forest. Biting my lip as my dainty limbs freeze up on me, I slowly lift my head- - -

And stare into a gently smiling face of Inu-Yasha.

"What are you d. . . ?" I try to ask in a breathless tone, but am cut off when he takes a small step backwards- his hand finding mine and not letting go as he places a gentle kiss on its back.

My heart- no matter how much I yell at it not to- stops.

"Have you promised yourself to another. . . ?"

"No," I murmur breathlessly, unable to stop myself from falling back into our usual, pre-dance charade. "I haven't."

"So you saved the last dance for me. . . ?"

"I never break a promise."

He grins chivalrously, as if he a prince and I a foreign princess.

"Then, good lady, may I have this dance?"

My throat has dried up like a desert. This is. . .

Is just. . .

Just like he's always asked before- same tone, same smile, same glistening eyes. . . Just like during our other magical `last dance's. When all the boys would go off with the pretty girls, and I remained the only female on those hard plastic chairs that they provide at school parties.

Like at the one we first met at. . .

I want to say yes, but at the same time. . . .memories hur- - -

!

But before I can answer him he pulls me close- our bodies pressing together in a gently firm way; our feet automatically falling in time with one another. And suddenly, my cheap, light blue leotard and airy sarong feel as if they are made of silky sky and glittering stars- pieces of heaven that I don't ever want to release from my grasp.

My hand tightens over his as he lifts me like a fallen leaf, setting me gently on my toes and supporting me as I spin and fall back- left leg lifting as his face lowers; lowers almost enough to meet my face skin to skin.

I bite my lip as reality threatens to pull me back.

"It's good to see you," he whispers as the piano melody wraps around our souls. "I never notice you around anymore."

"That's because I haven't *been* around," I inform him, trying with all my might to be mad at him for what he was doing to me. Don't make me love you any more than I already do, Inu-Yasha. . .

But it's hard to loath one when their warm hands are holding you so carefully, so naturally- as if you are a favorite toy.

. . . A toy. . .

That's probably all I am to him.

He blinks, pulling me effortlessly back up to my feet with a half-spin. "Really? Why not? I keep wanting to introduce you to- - -"

"Your new dance partner," I fill in bluntly, a look of irritation slowly finding its way to my face. "Yes, I know."

He says nothing for a moment, cupping my waist and helping me as I make a delicate leap into the air. "If you know. . ." he then begins, "why do you still avoid me?"

Why. . . ?

I'm torn between crying and laughing.

`Because I love you, Inu-Yasha!' I want to say. `Because it kills me inside to see you holding and helping another girl- holding and helping her the same way you did me!'

But something tells me that isn't the right thing to throw at him.

"I don't avoid you," is what I decide to reply instead, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I just don't have the time. I'm too busy. . . training."

I glance behind me for a moment when a soft, sad chuckle escapes his lips. "That's not what I hear. I heard from your mother that you were quitting ballet."

"Wh-What? When have you been talking to my mother?" Horror fills me so quickly that I all but freeze. Did she tell him, too, about the parties I've been going to? And the bottles she found in my room? Is he- the one who did this to me- trying to help me?!

He doesn't answer my question, though- he simply asks one of his own. "Why are you quitting? You're so good! You could light up Broadway! You could do so well! You're the best, you really are!"

`Why, then?' I wish I could force from my lips. `Why did you leave me? Why don't you like to dance with me anymore?'

It's not the SAME without him. . . !

"I only wish. . ." he adds after a moment, as if as an afterthought, "that I could be half as well as you."

. . .

"What are you talking about?" I gape at him from over my shoulder, his neck and my own rubbing together as his chest and my back mold as one- our arms outstretched and our fingers intertwined as I lift my right leg and press the bottom of my left foot to my inner thigh, feeling the thrill of the wind in my hair as he spins us round. "You have more talent than anyone I know!"

"And how many dancers do you honestly know?"

. . .

"I thought so," he smiles slightly, slowing to a stop and supporting me as he wraps an arm around my waist and locks our hands in a familiar waltz. "Look, there's a difference between us that I don't think you've ever let yourself see."

I frown slightly as we move to the beat, my sarong tickling my pale legs as I look anywhere but into his eyes.

I already know what he's going to say.

"I don't dance because I see it as a career move- I dance because I want to. We're in two different leagues- you'll light up the world! I'll settle for being the best at the prom. Dancing means everything to you. To me, it's just fun."

. . .

". . . Is that. . ." I swallow slightly, feeling my courage waver but forcing myself to go on, "Is that why you broke up with me. . . ? Are no longer my partner. . . ?"

. . .

He considers for a moment, brow crinkling cutely in deep thought.

"Well. . . yes and no."

"Explain," I demand shortly, hands tightening in his.

"I decided to no longer be your partner because I was holding you back. You could be a star!" he smiles, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear as I shyly glance up at him, still refusing to meet him squarely in the eyes. "And. . .

Well. . ."

"You met her."

He doesn't even flinch as he dips me carefully and our eyes inevitably lock. "Yes."

I determinedly turn my head away again.

"We share more beliefs when it comes to dance. We like the same music. We know similar moves. She's in the same class as me."

"All those apply to us, too!" I insist, feeling hurt begin to coat my throat. I swallow quickly, preparing to force the words that I've always needed to tell him out of my mouth: I want you back. I'd give up anything to be with you! I'd give up my drinking- I'd give up the parties- I'd give up the drugs. I'd give up dancing! I love you! "Inu-Yasha, I- - -!"

"I love her."

- - - !

My voice dies as he slowly pulls me up, this time HE avoiding MY gaze.

"I'm going to propose to her at senior prom," he tells me quietly as he twirls me under his arm. Then he pulls me into a tight embrace, resting his chin on my head. My body, however, has gone numb. "We've already been accepted into the same college. We're going to share an apartment."

The news slowly sinks into my skin like a dozen white-hot knives.

". . . In- Inu-Ya. . . Inu-Yasha, I- - -"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he interrupts quietly. "I'm sure this is hard for you, after. . ."

`After the four years we went out together? No kidding,' I can't help but keep the dryness and pain out of my thoughts.

"But," he murmurs, "you know what?"

. . .

"What. . . ?" I manage to force through my welling tears.

"You'll always be my first love, great friend, and original partner," he confides in my ear. "And you will always have a special place in my heart- just as you will soon have a place in the hearts of all people. I expect you to dazzle the world with the light I see inside of you, by the way- with all the talent you've hidden from everyone and buried beneath alcohol and capsules. I want to be able to point to the TV screen when I'm old and brag: `Hey! I used to dance with her!' and pout when no one believes me."

A small smile takes over my face as he playfully rubs noses with me- a sign of affection he's used ever since we were children.

"I know you're still mad and that tonight, supposedly, was to be your very last dance. . ." he sighs and holds me tighter, despite the fact that the music is slowly ending behind us. "And I don't blame you. I was a real jerk. . ."

Yeah. Leaving the dance teacher to tell me he had switched partners for no apparent reason- after catching him flirt with the new girl for days- hadn't been a good choice on his part. With the kick I gave him he couldn't dance for weeks.

And I. . .

I started hanging out with the other boys. . .

And ended up in the hospital for the same number of days as Inu-Yasha was out of dance.

"But I really do care about you, and I hope you know that. I love you- you're my friend."

His friend.

I'm his friend.

After all we've gone through-

Every kiss-

Every argument-

Every hug-

Every dance-

We are friends.

But. . .

"Hiya, guys!"

We suddenly come to a stop and turn our heads as a new voice fills the auditorium- the sweet, warm voice of Inu-Yasha's girlfriend.

"Hey!" he smiles, giving my hand a slight squeeze as she toddles inside, head cocked in curiosity at the sight before her. "What's going on?"

"Just looking for you," she replies with a shrug, reaching the edge of the stage and grinning at me. I manage a weak beam in return, noticing that Inu-Yasha and I still haven't changed our position. I suddenly feel a longing tug inside of me for my liquor filled water bottle. "What were you doing?"

"Catching up," he winks at me. "And perfecting some of our dance techniques."

"Oh! Inu-Yasha tells me you're quite wonderful," she directs towards me, ever polite and friendly. I instantly feel guilty for the nights I spent crying on my bed and mentally cursing her. For the nights I spent punching my pillows, pretending it was her. The nights I spent taking pills to forget her name. "You'll have to show me!"

"I'm sure I'm not any better than you," I reply modestly. "Inu-Yasha tells me you're taking dance as well."

"For the fun and exercise," she blushes slightly. "I'm really not very good. Honestly, I'm not. But I really would like to see you!" She backed away a few feet, finding a plush chair and seating herself down upon it without ever tearing her eyes from the stage. "Please- both of you! Dance for me!"

And then something I never could have expected happened.

As he turned to me once again, smile on his face, and asked me for a dance- - -

I shook my head no.

With a small smile on my face and a quiet laugh escaping me, I shook my head no.

They both looked oddly at me.

"You don't really want to spend your life dancing with me, having me hold *you* back," I whisper into his ear, slowly releasing him and taking a few steps away. "I want to let you go. . ."

I want to let it all go. . .

My anger and my sadness. . .

The drugs and the beer. . .

My need for Inu-Yasha.

I stop next to my CD player, tapping the play button once again. I flash him a watery grin at his confused look.

"I think you have a question for Kagome. . . ?" I whisper, hands clasping behind my back as I take a deep breath, holding back my tears.

He shoots me a beam- a beam full of more happiness than I ever could have given him- as he kneels by the edge of the stage: reaching a hand out to Kagome. "May I have this dance. . . ?"

She glances at me from the corner of her eye, as if silently asking for permission. I simply bow my head.

By the time I lift my face again, they're already gliding across the stage, drinking in the soft blue lights as the music flows through their veins- Inu-Yasha whispering something in Kagome's ear as she blushes and buries her face in his shoulder.

And as I watch them, for the first time I truly feel something- something deep inside me. A love for myself that I've never felt before. And I know- I will dance again.

I may always love Inu-Yasha.

But because of that I can let him go- I can let him love, too.

And as he winks at me from over Kagome's shoulder, a brotherly gesture that I find myself savoring, I know that all he told me earlier is true.

I know that he'll always save the last dance for me.

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