Dance

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(Y/n)

Not allowed to train anymore?

How am I supposed to master my magoi skills now? How am I supposed to sharpen my fighting skills fast enough? I was doing so well too. That is, until Judal sent me that nightmare. Even now, an image of my brother's body floating lifelessly among a scarlet sea sears through my mind.

What if I'm too late?

Who knows what Al Thamen is doing to him right now? Are they using him like they used me? Or do they plan to dispose of him once he's no longer useful? I grit my teeth, leaning against the stone pillar behind me.

Calm down, (y/n). Breathe. Focus. Fight. Chanting the mantra over and over in my head, I remind myself that I can't afford to mess up this training session too.

As if on cue, Ja'far appears at the edge of the courtyard opposite me, his grey eyes speckled with golden light from the torch in his hand. I wonder if those eyes see through my battle-ready stance. For a moment, I catch myself almost hoping that they do. Instead, he just raises and eyebrow and says, "Well then, let's begin" before extinguishing his torch.

The darkness engulfs us immediately, cloaking my eyes with the inky blackness they've come to know. Although I've never been able to completely shake off the unsettlingness that comes with being blind momentarily, this time it's even worse for some reason.

Calm down, (y/n).

My ears are ready to hone in on the slightest sound, my eyes are open to catch the faintest flint of a blade, and my hands are itching to wield my knife...but why does the darkness remind me so much of the bloodied river from my dream?

Breathe.

I still remember the water's murkiness and silence closing in on me, choking me while I desperately scanned my surroundings for my brother. Despite the fact that I know I'm no longer in there, I feel myself struggling to breathe properly.

Focus.

The faint sound of movement next to me. He's coming! I swiftly draw the knife from my side.

Fight.

My breathing's ragged. My mind grapples with images from that terrible nightmare while trying to keep me chained to reality. "Dang it," I curse silently as I realise that not only are my legs not moving like I want them to, they're buckling under me. A firm hand wraps around my forearm, and I know that I've utterly lost.

"Go on. Scold me. You've always been my strictest critic. Just get it over with," I mentally tell Ja'far. But he stays silent, which honestly just makes the suspense worse. "Oh, God. What is he going to do now?" I scream internally. Suddenly, I feel a sharp flick at my forehead. Obviously, it doesn't hurt that much, but I end up yelping out of pure surprise.

Ja'far pulls me up, and I feel his hand moving back along my arm to my wrist. "Um, what are you doing?" I ask him, bewildered as he moves behind me, takes my other arm and begins to guide me through some martial arts moves. "Focus, (y/n). This is how I fight," he says. And just like that, he starts guiding me through the moves of his fighting style. It's unique, like nothing I've ever been taught during my training as an Al Thamen soldier from Kou. It's fast, precise and deadly, perfect for taking out an opponent in the blink of an eye, but beneath that there's something else. A gentleness to avoid disturbing the grass and the animals around us.

Ja'far could've just shown me these moves in broad daylight and I could've just easily copied them. However, this odd dance in the dark forced me to focus solely on Ja'far's movements and rely on him almost completely to guide me. And somehow, I found it comforting.

Ja'far

"Now, it's your turn, (y/n)," I say, letting go of her. "Huh?" her puzzled voice responds. "You lead me through your moves," I tell her.

Her hands reach for mine rather clumsily before she picks up where I left off. She's awkward and hesitant at first, not entirely sure how to guide me the way I guided her. But after a while, she gets the hang of it. (Y/n)'s fighting style is heavily made up of traditional Kou martial arts, but with quite a few...modifications. What should I expect? She does like to get creative when fighting. She's picked up techniques from opponents she's faced, and I can sense traces of Sharrkan's, Sinbad's and even my own fighting style in (y/n)'s movements. Even now, I can feel her moves evolving, adjusting her steps to become more cautious and light to stay quieter like I did.

It's unpredictable, fascinating and special, the way she fights. Just like (y/n) is herself.

Just then, the moon decides to peek out from a shroud of clouds so thick that I didn't even realise it was out tonight. (Y/n) stops. It's then that I realise how close to each other we are, with our hands loosely entwined together, our bodies paralleling each other...almost like we've been leading each other in a dance. I've never seen her drop her stolid mask while fighting, no matter if it's a real battle or not. But when her (e/c) eyes meet mine in the moonlight, I can see all the weariness she's hidden these past couple of days. Her panic, frustration and sadness are plain to see.

And I feel relieved...and honoured. That she trusts me enough to be this vulnerable around me.

"Ja'far, I'm sorry for how I've been acti-"

"Don't mention it. I know that when you're ready, you'll talk to me. Just apologise to Sharrkan tomorrow for kicking his balls."

For the first time in two days, she laughs. "He told you that?"

I nod. "For now, we'll focus on getting to know each other's movements well. Learning to beat me is great and all, but us learning to fight together is more important."

A mischievous grin stretches across her face as she replies, "Alright. But I'll definitely beat you one of these days."

Author's Note: I'm sorry about the late update (SCHOOL AND HOMEWORK!) so I tried to make this chapter as long as I could. I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks a lot for reading.

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