Chapter Text
The passing of Pakunoda’s mother marked a turning point in their lives and relationship.
Machi was a shoulder for the dancer to cry on, a counselor for her to talk out her conflicted emotions to. Machi helped her with funeral preparations, listened to her complain about her aunts and uncles disapproval with how things were handled, and sat in on meetings with lawyers and accountants to settle the estate.
Whatever Pakunoda needed, and whenever she needed it, Machi was there.
No one brought up the fact that Gel had suddenly disappeared from Machi’s life. The makeup artist had spoken about it briefly to Hisoka, but other than that was content to leave the past in the past.
The unspoken something between Machi and Pakunoda hung heavy in the air whenever they were together. Lingering touches, stolen glances, and words of appreciation were all that gave anything close to acknowledgement to their feelings for each other.
Time seemed to fly by. Before she knew it, it had been nearly five years since she joined the dance company. She was working on finishing her fashion degree early, aiming towards getting an internship the following summer.
Machi had noticed that Pakunoda had been especially tired lately. She was also having more physical therapy sessions these days, and she spent less and less time at the studio.
The design student didn’t bring this up, not seeing it as her place to.
And then there came the first accident.
It was during one of the final performances for the spring show season. Machi hovered at the edge of the curtain with her belt of brushes and supplies, waiting to be of use when the dancers came off stage.
All of a sudden the music cut out and there was a collective gasp from the audience. There was a beat where everyone seemed afraid to move, and then all of a sudden Pariston and Bisky were racing past her onto the stage with Phinks and Nobunaga in tow.
Machi’s brows furrowed but she remained in place, listening as Pariston’s voice made a word of apology and promised that the show would resume in a few moments.
Next thing she knew, Pakunoda came through the curtain on one foot, one arm around each of the male dancer’s necks as they carried her weight, Bisky trailing after. Her face was contorted in a grimace and her free leg wasn’t hanging quite right.
“Paku?” She turned and trailed after them towards Pakunoda’s dressing room.
They were met by one of the staff medics, and Phinks helped lower her onto the sofa before he and Nobunage left the room.
Machi hovered at the edge of the room, fiddling with her septum ring just to have something to do as she waited for some sort of verdict.
The medic said something about softening cartilage in her knee, topping it off with a recommendation of an Xray and MRI while strapping an ice pack to her leg.
The medic left and Bisky followed, pausing at the door to reach out and pat Machi on the arm. She closed the door behind her.
Machi’s gaze fell back to Pakunoda, who was staring into her lap. It would have been funny, seeing a woman dressed as a fairy laying on a leather sofa, but the expression on the dancer’s face sent a feeling of dread down to the pit of her stomach.
She pushed off from the wall and walked over to sit next to the couch.
“Are you… I mean I know you aren’t okay but…”
Pakunoda looked down at her and Machi was struck with how much older she looked compared to when they had first met. Not to say that she wasn’t still incredibly beautiful, but the lines around her mouth and eyes had deepened, matured her in a way that only time can do.
“It’s finally happening,” her expression was somber, her tawny eyes betraying the pain she was in.
“What’s happening, Paku?”
“The end of my career.”
Machi’s features must have betrayed how perplexed she was, as Pakunoda continued right along.
“My legs are giving out on me.”
“You don’t know that, this is just one injury,” she insisted.
Pakunoda reached down and took Machi’s hand, pulling it into her tulle-covered lap. She turned it over and traced the familiar path of her palm lines with her fingertips.
“It’s alright, Machi. I’ve been expecting this for a while,” she gave a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “I’ve been very tired lately. No matter how much I rest, my body doesn’t recover like it used to. My muscles don’t feel as sturdy as they should anymore. The arthritis in my feet is becoming unbearable.”
Machi’s brows knitted together, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”
Pakunoda’s thumb stroked against her wrist.
“I knew it would happen eventually. I’m very fortunate, most dancers don’t get to stay on stage as long as I have.”
Machi nodded, knowing that she was right. Pakunoda had been dancing professionally for nearly two decades.
“What are you going to do?”
Pakunoda looked up at her, giving a deep sigh.
“I’m going to enjoy the time I have left. I predict that I’ll retire by the end of the year. I’m going to talk to Bisky about taking someone on as my apprentice.”
“Oh?” Machi mused, “Did you have someone in mind?”
“Kurapika. He’s incredibly talented and dedicated, and he’s versatile. I think he’d be a perfect fit.”
A small smile slipped onto Machi’s face, “I think you’re right about that.”
They fell into silence.
After a few minutes, Machi looked at their entwined hands.
“What will you do after you retire?”
Pakunoda averted her gaze, “I’ll volunteer at the shelters more. Maybe get a few more cats.”
She paused and looked back into Machi’s eyes with a gaze so intense that it sent a ripple of heat from Machi’s head to her toes.
“And maybe, if I’m not too late…”
Before Machi could process the insinuation, there was a knock at the door.
Pakunoda’s features steeled over and she let go of Machi’s hand as Pariston and a few other people clamored in.
Machi stared at the dull tan carpet and tried to put her thoughts in order.
She wondered all night what Pakunoda would have said if they hadn’t been interrupted.
Pakunoda’s knee gave out three more times over the course of the summer, and both she and Machi were relieved when Kurapika had agreed to be her understudy.
Kurapika was a fantastic dancer, and a loyal friend though his temper could rival her own.
She often thought about the insensitive remark that he'd spat in anger on his birthday at the club, referring to how she was simply “letting herself pine” for Pakunoda. It got under her skin in a horrible way.
Pakunoda had been an enormous part of her life for five years now. After Gel, she hadn’t even attempted to find another romantic partner, knowing that her heart would be unevenly split between whoever she met and the principal dancer.
The longer the summer wore on, the tenser things seemed to get between them. It was as if they were both waiting for a bomb to drop.
Pakunoda was the one who dropped it.
It was one of the rare days that both Pakunoda and Machi had free of obligations. They were in Pakunoda’s bedroom, the woman draped in an unfinished black dress as she stood on the edge of the raised platform that housed her four-poster canopy bed. Machi knelt in front of her, pinning the hem in place, a pin cushion strapped to her wrist. Opal and Minerva were curled up in Pakunoda’s vanity chair together, napping.
They had been in comfortable silence for a while now, but it seemed that Pakunoda was ready to break it.
“ I love you. ”
Machi missed her mark and pricked herself with one of the pins. She cursed and stuck the injured thumb in her mouth, sitting back on her heels to look up at the dancer through her bangs.
Did I really hear her say that???
The woman’s face was even and unabashed, she was clearly sure about what she’d said. Even so, Machi couldn’t help but question her.
“Excuse me?”
“I believe you heard me.”
“No, I’m sorry what? ” Machi stood and backed up, pushing her bangs back from her forehead, “Are you fucking with me?”
Pakunoda crossed her arms under her chest.
“I’m being incredibly serious.”
Machi’s face pinched up in confusion.
“Why are you saying this now ?”
“I’m afraid that if I wait any longer you’ll give up on me.”
She looked up into the woman’s warm eyes and watched as all of her defenses fell. The amount of longing present in her gaze was enough to make her lose her breath.
“As you should. I’ve been very selfish with you, stringing you along like this,” she gathered the skirt of her dress in her hands before stepping down off the platform and approaching Machi, “I’ve played around with your emotions and caused the downfall of a good and healthy relationship.”
“How do you know-”
“It was obvious, Machi. Gel suddenly stopped coming around after mâmân passed and every time I asked you where she was, you had the most guilty look on your face. I’m not stupid, Machi, I know you were given an ultimatum.”
She reached out and grabbed Machi’s hand, holding it between her own.
“I know you chose me.”
Heat creeped up the designer’s neck and settled in her cheeks. She licked her lips and swallowed around the lump in her throat.
“And?”
“And I’m tired of denying myself what I truly want. My original intention was to retire and then have this conversation with you. But I’ve realized that I’ve run out of patience.”
She lifted Machi’s hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against her injured thumb and then against her palm. Machi’s heart lodged itself in her throat.
“You’ve become an irreplaceable facet of my life and I can’t believe I've been so stubborn as to let you and your feelings orbit me for so long without doing something about it.”
Machi’s gaze flicked to their joined hands, as the woman’s gaze was too intense for her to handle.
“Am I too late?” her gaze was imploring as she pressed Machi’s hand to her heart.
Machi took a deep breath as she felt the organ pound against her hand much like her own was doing inside her chest.
After all this time… Anyone with more sense would have moved on.
I guess I don’t have any sense.
“No,” Machi stepped closer, invading her space to lean up on her toes, “No, you’re right on time.”
She took back her hand and slid her arms around the dancer’s neck, pulling her down to lock their lips together.
One of Pakunoda’s hands settled at the base of her spine and the other cradled her face, tilting it just slightly to deepen the kiss.
They broke apart only to gather enough oxygen to go back in for seconds. This time yearning bled into hunger and they licked into each other’s mouth like they were starving.
They stumbled up onto the platform and the trance was broken as Pakunoda laid back on her bed, Machi between her legs, and yelped, jolting back up. She reached behind herself and pulled away a pin from the dress, holding it up between them for Machi to see.
They both stared at it for a moment before falling into a fit of laughter.
Machi watched as Pakunoda’s laughter died out and her stomach flipped when a bright smile adorned her face.
She took the pin and stuck it in the pin cushion on her wrist for safe keeping.
The designer took a moment to process the situation, and found herself with one unanswered question.
“So, what does this mean for us? I love you, and you love me, but what about-”
Pakunoda shushed her by pressing an elegant finger to her lips.
“There’s no more what-ifs, no buts, and no more putting off feelings. We’re together. That’s all I want now.”
Machi smiled, but it turned into a look of curiosity as the woman’s eyes lidded.
“Well, I suppose that isn’t entirely true.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s one more thing that I want, but you’re going to have to unpin me for me to have it.”
Machi’s face flushed in recognition and she gulped at the dangerous look on the blonde’s face.
“After all this time? I think I can manage that. ”