Under the Moon

Ivy held out her hand to Sakura, a lovely smile playing across her lips, a summons to follow shining in her eyes. The vixen took it, like she had so many times before, as they floated their way down the path. Their arms, their legs, their hips moving together in a way that only the two of them could. A way that only they understood. Sometimes they came together, sometimes apart. Moving in separate directions, at different speeds. But they always found their ways back to one another.

Sakura had danced before finding Ivy, but always alone. It wasn’t even worth the time asking Raz, she knew the cantankerous angel would just scoff and shoo her away, tell her to do something useful and stop wasting everyone’s time. She had asked Ren a few times when they had grown older, wanting the boy’s attention as she grabbed his hands and tried to urge him along. But no matter how much she begged or whined, he always looked away with some excuse or another, saying he was busy, or he didn’t know how to while nervously refusing all of her offers to teach him. But she saw the way he watched when she did, so she accepted his gazes instead and went off on her own.

To always dance alone.

But Ivy had come to her that first time only hours after the vixen had found the girl, grabbing onto her arm, violet eyes so bright and inviting, and moved herself in a way that pleaded for Sakura to join her. To make her solo a duet.

So she did.

And she always would.

How could she ever say no?

Though the girl moved in a way that was as natural as the flow of water, it wasn’t so easy for the fox to learn how to move with a partner, figuring out how far to come, how far to go. When to twist, when to spin, when to step. There was another body to be conscious of and not just her own, and it didn’t always run smoothly. There were bumps and trips, falls and giggles. The two tended to be in each other's way more often than not in the beginning.

It took time.

Patience.

Practice.

But learn she did until it became as second nature to her as it was for Ivy.

Until the two moved as one.

It had been four years since the two girls had come together, and the demon had only grown more and more enchanted with her little stray with every day that passed. Sakura watched in wonder as the girl went from a precious child to a vibrant young woman. Her body growing but still slight and delicate, a willow in the breeze. Her face only becoming more radiant by the day. Her voice even more mesmerizing.

Ivy had come into Sakura’s life as such a small and timid child, uncertain yet curious of everything around her, as though it was all unfamiliar and new. She had clung ever so tightly to the demon, holding her hand or wrapped around her arm or wanting to be carried on her back at all times. Needing to be curled up against her every night. Always having to have the comfort of the demon’s touch. She wanted the opportunity to explore, but only under the safe cover that Sakura would provide.

But now that she was getting older, Ivy had finally started to bloom in confidence, and though she was still shy and hesitant, was now beginning to step out on her own. Though, only a little. She still looked over her shoulder as she bounded ahead, smiling brilliantly at the vixen, pleased to be under her diligent care.

And Sakura would closely follow, allowing her enough freedom without letting her go.

She could never truly let her go.

Not without losing a part of herself.

Ivy was everything good.

Everything perfect in the world.

She was a dream.

She was life.

How Sakura loved her so.

Her heart swelling and overflowing with adoration and pride.

Like a mother with her child.

She would die for her.

She would kill for her.

She would sacrifice everything for her.

She would go without.

Just so the girl never had to.

She took Ivy’s tears and wiped them away, holding her close, and taking her pain so the girl wouldn’t have to bear it alone.

She took the girl’s smiles and gave her every one of her own, giving her every ounce of joy in her own heart.

She took the pouts, the huffs and puffs, the stomping of feet and waited for the girl’s ire to subside before explaining why life isn’t always fair.

She took the highs and lows, the good and the bad.

She gave her all, and when it was all gone, she found more to give.

It was all she could do.

All she knew how to.

As it was the same thing that had been done for her.

There were nights under the stars where the girl would reach out and they would dance around the shooting sparks of the fire that they had made to keep the dark at bay. Their dances were different than those performed under the light of the sun. No longer did they have to cover ground, making their way from one place to another.

They could take their time.

They could just be.

Their bodies would swish. Their hips would sway. Their fingers touch. And their feet glide.

They could stay in one place.

Or twirl around the flames.

Under the twinkling of endless stars.

Their movements were a tribute to the night.

They were a praise to the day.

Ivy always invited her under the sun.

But there were nights when the moon was at its fullest, so bright that it lit the land below as if it were day, that Ivy would get up from her place by the fire and dance.

Alone.

All alone.

And not hold her hand out to the woman.

Her arms outstretched to the sky.

Her fingers searching for something that was not there.

So close.

So far.

Just out of reach.

Her body twisting and turning in a way that only nature could.

Like the whipping of the wind.

The crashing of waves.

The blooming of flowers.

The fall of the snow.

The rise of the moon.

How Sakura’s heart would ache to join her, just as she always did.

But there was no way that she could stand to take the place that didn’t belong to her.

So, she would watch, transfixed, completely consumed by the dream before her.

It was always the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

But she knew that it really wasn’t.

It was missing something.

It was missing the other half.

Ivy hadn’t asked her to join.

Because she was searching.

Beckoning for someone who wasn’t there.

For someone who didn’t come.

But time after time.

Year after year.

She called.

Her voice, her song rising and falling, high and low.

Her body spinning.

Her hands reaching.

Never giving up.

Sakura could only breathe, focusing on each and every breath.

Holding in the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

Watching the girl as she opened her arms, her heart, her soul, and swirled under the moon.

Its light.

Its warmth.

And called out to the one.