¡Baile! by Lillian

Blast to the Past

Disclaimer: I hereby disclaim and do forever disclaim any possibility of owning Rumiko Takahashi's Inuyasha.

This hit me so hard, I feel like I've been run over by a semi. One chapter's like ten drabbles long. >_>;

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The words taunted her in her mind, flashing on and off in cheery, neon red.

‘Happy Birthday, Kagome! Time to get your groove back on and get out of you work-induced funk. :) Love, Eri’

Get her groove on? Get out of her funk? What funk? She wasn’t in a funk. Perhaps a workaholic, yes, but a funk? Of course not!

...

Well...okay. Maybe a little one. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted to rip her hair out in frustration and stress. It was all work, all the time. It’s not like she had much of a life, anyways--she’d left most of her friends behind after---

Well, after.

Kagome pulled the elastic holding her hair in a bun out, allowing her midnight tresses to cascade to her shoulders in loose waves. She shrugged out of her suit jacket and draped it over the gym bag she was carrying. The bulky bag reminded her, just like her mind had been, why she stood in front of this place.

The windows allowed her a peek into the interior. Tasteful splashes of color adorned the floor and warm brown couch in the form of throw rugs and pillows.

Wow. What a party, already.

She opened the door, hearing the cheerful tinkling of bells above her head announcing her presence, and walked in.

Almost immediately, one of them walked out from the deeper bowels of the studio, bright orange skirt hugging her hips, hair pinned up in a bun with a flower attached to it. “Hello! How may I help? Are you here for lesso--” She broke off with a gasp. “It’s you!” Her eyes widened almost comically. “Kagome Higurashi? The Kagome Higurashi?”

Kagome sighed, all hopes of remaining anonymous fading. She quickly pasted on her media smile and replied, “Yep.” Darn Eri for giving her this present. She knew Kagome wouldn’t let the gift go to waste.

“So! Can I help you? I mean,” the girl’s words nearly tumbled over themselves in her eagerness, “do you need anything? Of course you do! What am I talking about? You wouldn’t come here unless you needed something, so what are you here for?”

Kagome just stares for a second at the bubbly girl, remembering what it was like to be like that. Bubbly, happy, naive. Excited for life.

“So?” the girl prompted.

“Hm? Oh, lessons. I’m here for lessons.”

“You? Lessons?” the girl stared at her incredulously. “But you don’t need--”

“It was a gift.”

Her eyes lit up in understanding. “What class? Perhaps it the traditional Chinese? You wouldn’t know that kind.”

Wryly, Kagome replied, “You know how fate is. I’m signed up for a year’s worth of ballroom dancing and,” here she paused for maximum effect, “six competitions.”

He sarcastic comment went right over the girl’s head, and she clapped in excitement. “I know you’ll be just as good as you were.” Naive, shining hope bore into Kagome from the girl’s liquid, doe eyes.

Kagome hefted her gym bag onto her shoulder. “So, can you show me where I can change and where the class is? I’d really appreciate it.” The girl was a sweetheart and it wasn’t her fault that Kagome was in a sour mood, and Kagome felt poorly for not being nice.

“Sure!” The girl minced back the way she came, leading Kagome past glass walls that let her see into the classes, and, through them, into the different cultures that the dances were from. Bollywood. Dervish. Riverdance. Flamenco. Belly Dance. Prisyadki.

“What’s the name of your class?” the girl asked curiously. “I can tell you your instructor, if you want.”

“Uh...” she thought for a moment, “Intro to Ballroom Dancing.” Kagome sighed again.

“Well, there are several instructors, but we usually partner you guys with one for your entire package. I’m sorry, but I’m not quite sure who you’ll have. You do know, though, that we have the finest instructors available, so don’t worry.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” The girl turned to look at her, and Kagome winked. “I’m sure I’ll be taken care of quite well by whoever is my instructor. You know, because I need to be taken care of. Perhaps it’ll be good to go back to basics and refresh, lock the basics down again.”

She nodded in reply, red rose pinned to her hair not moving, and motioned to two doors. “The one on the left is the dressing room, and the one on the right is your classroom. Class starts in,” she checked her watch, “about ten minutes. Please don’t be tardy.” She gave a little plié and started off in the opposite direction, before stopping and turning. Suddenly she turned shy. “Um...and...before you leave, canIpleasehaveyourautograph?”

Kagome couldn’t help herself and laughed freely. “Of course,” she chuckled. “I’ll catch you before I leave.”

The girl beamed and set off again, leaving Kagome on her own.

Quickly she changed into her usual practice clothes, which consisted of character shoes, a thigh length skirt with shorts underneath, and a low-backed leotard. Her hair she put in a high ponytail, and when she looked into the mirror, it was like she had been transported to back then.

She walked out of the room and into the studio, hearing the familiar click of her heels on the wooden floor. About six or seven couples stood around in various states of repose, most chatting and socializing with each other. The instructor wasn’t present yet, and so the atmosphere was relaxed.

Kagome looked at the people individually, hoping anyone she knew wasn’t in the class so she could do more advanced things. If anyone was present, she would have to pretend not to know anything, as she had separated her past and present thoroughly, hence why Eri had given her a present to beginner classes.

Her, three time World Ballroom Champion.

Her heart sank when she recognized Kouga standing with a pretty flame-haired girl. He was one of her associates at the office.

It sank further to her feet when he recognized her, calling out, “Woman!” in a loud, boisterous voice, waving her over. “What are you doing here? You taking classes, too? You gonna tango with someone?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, eyes twinkling.

Oh, Kouga. The constant flirt. Even with another girl, obviously infatuated with him, right in front of him.

“Sure am.” She let an easy smile cross her face, and started chatting with the girl next to him, purposefully letting her know through girl language she was not interested in Kouga.

With that out of the way, Ayame warmed up and soon had Kagome laughing at some of her escapades in clubs around town. She had just started telling her own joke when the door opened.

The room quieted as a tall, muscular man in a crisp navy shirt tucked into black slacks walked in.

Kagome’s heart constricted as she looked at him, her breath catching in her throat.

“You,” she breathed quietly, loathing in her voice.