Silly Dances and Serious Feelings

Those dimples.

Whenever they were in sight, it was hard to think. Hard to look away.

Before Nataria could stop herself, before her brain could catch up with her hand, her finger was reaching out, touching one of those dimples.

Pressing gently into the small indentation in his cheek.

"These are distracting," she complained, her voice barely above a whisper.

The moment the words left her mouth, heat flooded her face.

What was she doing?

That was… that was completely inappropriate, unprofessional, revealing…

Senri's eyes had gone wide. Then his grin returned, somehow even brighter than before, and he looked ridiculously pleased with himself.

"Distracting in a good way?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement and something else. Something that made her heart stutter.

Nataria snatched her hand back, pressing it against her chest as if to contain her racing heartbeat.

This was too much.

The control she usually maintained so carefully was slipping when she was around Senri, unraveling like thread pulled from a sweater.

She couldn't afford this.

Couldn't afford anyone thinking or saying anything about them.

The cameras were recording, they were always recording.

Every moment catalogued and analyzed and dissected by thousands of viewers looking for drama, for any hint of a story to latch onto.

Nataria took a deliberate step back, then another, putting physical distance between them. She moved to the side of the room, near the windows where the sunset light was fading to twilight.

"You should run through it a few more times," she said, pleased when her voice came out normal. "Until the transitions feel completely natural."

If Senri was disappointed by the distance, he didn't show it. He just nodded, moving back to his starting position.

He went through the sequence again, the final beats of choreography, the transition to stillness, the reach for the bottle, the delivery. Each time, he got more comfortable. Nataria offered small corrections and encouragement, watching him grow into the performance.

After his fifth run-through, Senri paused, grimacing slightly.

"Man, it took me forever to nail that spin transition in the choreography earlier. Four solid hours of practice. I thought my dance instructor was going to give up on me."

"I remember movements like that," Nataria said,

She moved a bit closer again, the distance easier to maintain now that they were focused on work.

"They look simple but require a lot of practice, but once you understand the mechanics, it clicks."

"You make everything sound so logical,"

Senri said, watching her.

"Like there's always a formula to figure out."

"That's how I make sense of it, usually." Nataria smiled.

"I did a lot of training in my idol days. Dance, vocals, acting for music videos and variety shows. Hours and hours until every skill became second nature."

"Do you miss it?"

Senri asked. He'd stopped moving, his full attention on her now.

"The idol work?"

Nataria considered the question.

"I miss my friends," she said honestly.

"The other girls in the group. We were close, we went through so much together. The training, the performances, the pressure. But the work itself?"

She shook her head.

"Acting is where I found myself. Where I feel like I can really express something meaningful."

"Yeah?"

Senri's interest was genuine.

"Tell me about it. What do you love about acting?"

The question caught her off guard. Not many people outside of show hosts asked. They assumed they knew, that it was about the fame and glamour, the attention.

But Senri was looking at her like her answer actually mattered, like he wanted to understand.

"I like..."

She searched for words.

"I like how it brings stories to life, making people see and understand things they might never experience themselves. If an actor does their job well, people can live that story with them. Feel what the character feels. Understand why they make the choices they make."

She met his eyes.

"I like the connection. Creating a moment of perfect understanding between strangers."

Senri's face transformed, his expression becoming almost luminous.

"That's exactly how I feel about music. About songs."

He moved toward her, animated now, his hands gesturing as he spoke.

"Music can unite people, make strangers share one moment of perfect understanding. When you're at a concert and everyone's singing along, you're all feeling the same thing at the same time. You're connected in this way that transcends words."

Nataria felt her breath catch. She'd never heard anyone articulate it quite like that. Never met anyone who saw that art, in all its forms and glamour, was ultimately about bridging the vast loneliness between human souls.

They stood there, the sunset light fading around them, and Nataria felt something shift in her chest. Something clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle finally finding where they belonged.

The music from Senri's phone changed, and Nataria's attention snapped to it.

It was the opening theme from an old kids' show, something that had aired when they were in elementary school. Nostalgic and very cheerful.

Senri pushed his hair back from his face, looking slightly embarrassed but still smiling.

"I listen to old stuff like this when I'm tired," he admitted.

"It's comforting. Reminds me of simpler times."

"I used to love that show,"

Nataria said before she could think better of it. A smile tugged at her lips.

"I'd watch it every week, religiously. My mother hated it, said it was a waste of my time, that I should be focusing on my training. But I'd sneak episodes whenever I could."

Senri's eyes lit up.

"Really? Then prove it."

She blinked. "What?"

"The opening dance." He challenged, his tone playful.

"If it was really your favorite, you should be able to do the opening dance. Channel your idol past."

Nataria protested, embarrassed:

"That's ridiculous. I don't need to prove anything…"

"Come on," Senri coaxed.

He was already moving into position, his body falling into the opening pose of the theme song's dance, a silly, energetic sequence that had been burned into the brain of every kid who'd watched the show.

"I want to see you perform."

And because it was Senri, because he was looking at her with those honey eyes, because his smile was teasing and encouraging, something about him made her want to be brave, and Nataria found herself nodding.

"Fine,"

she said, moving to stand beside him.

"But if we're doing this, we're doing it properly. No half-measures. Start the song over."

"I wouldn't expect anything less,"

Senri said, chuckling.

The music started again and they launched into the dance together.

It was silly and childish and absolutely absurd, a choreographed sequence full of exaggerated movements and dramatic poses that had been designed to let kids follow along and jump around their living rooms.

But Nataria threw herself into it with full commitment, her body remembering moves she hadn't done in over a decade.

Beside her, Senri was grinning so wide his face must have hurt, matching her energy beat for beat.

They were laughing, both of them, breathless and free and completely unselfconscious.

Nataria spun into the final sequence, her body remembering the turn…

Her ankle twisted.

The heeled boots betrayed her, the thin heel catching wrong against the wooden floor. Her balance shifted, gravity taking over, and she was falling…

"Hidomu-san!"

Senri's voice was filled with panic. His hands caught her, one arm around her waist, the other gripping her shoulder, stopping her fall before she hit the ground.

They stumbled together, and then they were on the floor, Nataria half-sitting, half-collapsed, with Senri kneeling beside her, his face white with fear.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Let me see…"

His hands were moving over her, checking for injuries with an urgency that would have been comical if his expression wasn't so terrified.

"I'm alright,"

Nataria said quickly. "Amano-san, I'm fine. Just a stumble."

"You fell." His voice was tight. "You could have hit your head. You could have broken something. This isn't… this can be serious."

His hand hovered over her ankle, the one that had twisted, and his touch was impossibly gentle.

"Does this hurt?"

There was a slight twinge, yes. A tenderness that promised a bruise later. But nothing severe. Nothing worth this level of panic.

"It's nothing more than a bruise," Nataria said, trying to inject calm into her voice.

"I've had much worse from my training days. I promise, I'm fine."

Senri looked up at her, his golden eyes searching her face like he could see through any lie.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

He didn't look convinced. "You need to rest. Ice it. Make sure it doesn't swell."

"Amano-san…"

"Promise me." His voice was firm now, brooking no argument.

"Promise me you'll rest. That you won't push it."

The intensity in his expression made her breath catch.

This can't be just concern for a housemate or a friend.

This was something deeper, something that made her chest feel too tight and too full all at once.

"I promise," she said softly.

Senri nodded, but he still looked worried. Then, before Nataria could protest, he was moving, sliding one arm beneath her knees, the other behind her back, and lifting her up as he stood.

"Amano-san!"

Nataria's hands flew to his shoulders, gripping instinctively.

"Put me down! I can walk!"

"You promised to rest,"

Senri said simply. He adjusted his grip, settling her weight more comfortably against his chest.

"So you're resting."

"This is ridiculous,"

Nataria said, but her protest was weakened by the heat flooding her face, by the awareness of how close they were, by the solid warmth of him and the ease with which he carried her.

"I'm perfectly capable of…"

"Resting,"

Senri interrupted, already moving toward the door.

"Which you promised to do."

She should argue more. Should insist he put her down. Should maintain some shred of dignity.

Viewers are going to go crazy, she thought hysterically. Entertainment value is going to sky rocket for sure.

But his arms were steady around her, and his expression was so earnest, and somewhere beneath the pragmatic thoughts and the embarrassment, was a warmth that had nothing to do with shame and everything to do with being cared for.

Being treasured.

Senri carried her through the villa's hallways, his steps careful. They didn't encounter any of the other housemates, small mercies, and when they reached the girls' room, Senri somehow managed to open the door without putting her down.

He brought her to the bed she indicated, the peach coloured one, and set her down gently on the mattress. His hands lingered for a moment, making sure she was steady, before he stepped back.

Then his gaze caught on something.

Mr. Bun.

The pink stuffed bunny was sitting on her pillow, exactly where she'd left him that morning. His long floppy ears slightly crooked from years of being held.

Mortification crashed over Nataria like a wave. She lunged for the stuffed animal, grabbing him and trying to hide him behind her back.

"That's not…"

But Senri's expression had already transformed into something soft and utterly charmed.

"You have a stuffed bunny," he said, and there was no mockery in his voice. Just gentle amusement and something that might have been affection.

"It's from when I was a child,"

Nataria lied, her face burning.

"My mother gave it to me. I just… I've had him for so long, and…"

"It's cute," Senri interrupted.

He moved closer, kneeling beside the bed so they were at eye level.

"You're cute."

Nataria's brain short-circuited. She couldn't form words. Could barely form thoughts.

Senri reached out, his fingers adjusting her pillow, making sure she was comfortable.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? Ice, pain medication, water?"

"I'm fine," Nataria managed. "Really. You don't need to worry."

"I was scared," Senri said quietly.

His eyes met hers, and the vulnerability in them made her chest ache.

"When you fell. I was scared you were hurt. I don't…" He swallowed hard.

"I don't want you to be hurt, Hidomu-san. I would do anything to make sure you're safe."

The weight of those words settled over her like a blanket. Heavy and impossibly precious.

She could see he meant it, every syllable.

Could see in his face that he would, truly, do anything.

The cameras disappeared. The show, the villa, the thousands of watching eyes, all of it faded away until there was only this moment, only Senri kneeling beside her bed with his heart on his sleeve.

"I feel the same way," Nataria said.

The words came from somewhere deep, somewhere she usually kept locked away.

"I would do anything to keep you safe, Amano-san. I treasure you…"

Her voice caught.

"...I treasure you because you're Amano-san. Because you make everything worth treasuring."

For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other. The air between them felt charged, electric with possibility.

Then Senri leaned closer.

Nataria's breath stopped. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

He was so close, close enough that she could count his eyelashes, could see the gold flecks in his honey-warm eyes, could feel the heat of him…

His hand moved past her.

Nataria blinked as Senri gently tugged Mr. Bun from behind her back, pulling the stuffed bunny forward.

He held the pink rabbit up between them, his expression completely serious as he addressed the toy.

Senri said solemnly, "I'm entrusting Hidomu-san to your care. Please make sure she rests properly."

He adjusted the bunny's floppy ear with careful fingers, then handed it to Nataria.

"I'll check on you later,"

Senri said, straightening.

He smiled down at her, that dimpled smile that made her feel under sunlight.

"Rest well, Hidomu-san."

Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Nataria stared at the closed door. At Mr. Bun in her shaky hands.

Then she buried her face in the stuffed toy.

Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it might vibrate right out of her chest. Her face was burning. Her entire body was burning.

She didn't know what to do.

Didn't know how to handle this feeling that was too big for her skin, too powerful to deny.

Because she knew. Undeniably, terrifyingly, she knew.

She loved Senri Amano with all her heart.

And she had absolutely no idea what to do about it.