Out of all the men you would expect to do ballet, Satoru Gojo had to be one of the lowest on the list. He had the build for it, sure, but you could never really picture him prancing in a leotard gracefully, his fifth position perfect without so much as a cramp in his leg.

But here he was, criticizing your form with pointed toes as he does rises at the barre to warm up. There's no hesitation in the way he picks apart your ports de bras and pas de deux as you attempt to imitate the Black Swan.

Of course when the dance company does Swan Lake he gets cast as the charming prince, giving him yet another ego boost he doesn't need. And of course you end up as his princess, now required to practice with him every day from noon to night.

“You're sloppy. Seriously, do you even practice on your own?" Satoru calls out despite the complexity that ups the skill level of the moves, unashamed to speak his mind as he pushes off the rail and comes to support you.

His hands had grown familiar with the task after months of working together, immediately finding where your balance tends to get off and correcting it so you don't slip from being en pointe. “C’mon, you can make a fool of yourself later. I can’t rehearse without a White Swan.“