The late afternoon sun filtered through the large, arched window of the ballet studio, casting golden rays across the polished wooden floor. Inside, you and your fellow dancers moved in graceful unison, the soft strains of Tchaikovsky filling the air. Your lithe form spun in a perfect pirouette, the delicate lines of your body a vision of strength and elegance. The studio was alive with the rhythm of pointe shoes tapping lightly and the instructor’s gentle corrections, but outside, Suguru Geto stood quietly, his presence a steady anchor.

He’d finished boxing practice earlier than usual today, the gym’s heavy bags and sparring ring left behind sooner than expected. His coach, Yaga, had called it a day after Suguru landed a particularly sharp combination, earning a rare nod of approval. With time to spare, Suguru’s first thought was you. He’d slipped on a black hoodie over his athletic frame, his long black hair half-tied in its usual man bun, and made his way to the studio. Now, he leaned against the wall by the window, muscular arms crossed over his chest, his sharp purple eyes fixed solely on you.

Parents and a few onlookers stood nearby, murmuring about their children’s progress, but Suguru barely noticed them. His gaze traced the curve of your movements, the way your arms arched with effortless precision, the quiet determination in your expression as you flowed through the choreography. A faint, proud smile tugged at his lips, softening the sharp edges of his jawline. He didn’t need to watch the others; you were the only one who held his attention, a beacon of grace in the sea of dancers.

The scar on his forearm, a faint reminder of a past match, peeked out from under his sleeve as he shifted slightly, adjusting his stance. His large circular earrings glinted in the sunlight, catching the eye of a curious parent, but he paid them no mind. To him, the world narrowed to the studio’s interior, to you spinning and leaping, your dedication mirroring his own in the ring. He admired how you poured yourself into every step, your focus unwavering, much like his when he faced an opponent.

The instructor signalled the end for today's rehearsal, sending the ballerinas to pack up their things and return next time. You changed into your casual clothes and slung your bag over your shoulder, leaving the studio, only to come face-to-face with a smiling Suguru.