I always give Kaisei the tragic backstory relationship in AU’s, but I think this one is going to go to Ciro instead.
Yoai thinks that Ciro is avoiding dating anyone because he’s too focused on dance and performance to think about a relationship. And that is true, partially. But it’s not the whole truth.
The story is that when Ciro was younger, and first starting to experiment with playing the lead female roles in ballets, he had a partner that he danced with. He was willing to work with him despite both of them being men, and Ciro never intended to develop feelings for him. But whoever had the final say on what the heart wants?
They practiced together, and would eventually perform classic stories retold from their perspective of both being men. Audiences adored it, some welcomed a fresh perspective on old tales while others were grateful for the recognition, seeing themselves on stage in stories they loved. The two of them even grew closer on and off the stage - it was perfect.
But perfection was fleeting, known to go up in flames when it's least expected.
It was the opening night of their retelling of the iconic Swan Lake. Ciro, who was already wracked with nerves about performing something so beloved in front of an audience for the first time, was even more skittish than normal. In his hands he held a small bouquet with a note. It was for his partner, whom he’d been convinced had feelings for him too. They had shared simply too many close encounters, too many lingering touches and long goodbyes.
He waited outside his partner's dressing room, fidgeting with the enveloped note, debating if he should leave it on his vanity or continue to wait for him. The show would be starting soon, and his partner would be up first - as was the role of the prince. He didn’t realize he was scratching his nails until he felt a prick against his cuticle. He barely noticed it as he heard his partner's voice from around the corner of the hallway. His heart skipped, and then stopped. Another voice chimed in with his, sweet and lilting like the flutes that accented their performances.
“You’re going to be amazing, baby. I can’t wait to see you out there!”
“I’ll be looking for you in the audience, Marzi.”
“Oh stop it, you have to stay focused-”
Shadows cast from the buzzing lights backstage revealed the truth to Ciro, and he didn’t care in the slightest that the thorns from the small bouquet had bitten into his palms.
Despite his broken heart, Ciro pulled himself together long enough to perform. It took every ounce of his will to conceal his heartbreak from his partner, and from the audience.
It felt like dancing with a flame, proximity to his partner burning him the closer he got, until finally he could no longer bear it.
The final act, their final dance together. His partner lifted him into the air for the last time, but his body weight shifted wrong. The last thing he heard was the crack of bone underneath him, and the last thing he saw was the face of his partner twisted in agony.
The curtains dropped and when he recalls that night, he cannot seem to remember anything further.
After the accident, Ciro and his former partner never danced together again; after all, it was impossible for him to with a broken leg. Even after it healed, he would never be able to dance the same.
Ciro had moved on to dance with a different company, unable to face his former troupe after such a glaring failure. All because of his own inability to swallow his emotions, to ignore his own heart for the sake of the performance.
So yes, Yoai is right in that Ciro throws himself into his passion, but it’s not just for self-fulfillment.
It’s to make sure he never makes another mistake like that again.
After meeting Kaisei and becoming close friends, Ciro’s fear of repeating the past lurks inside of him. He dances with him, he spends time with him, he even dares to flirt. But he keeps his heart guarded, and keeps their dances casual.
When Kaisei asks him to create a dance blending both of their styles together for a local showcase, however, Ciro’s resolve cracks just the slightest. He wants to dance with a partner that he feels connected to again, it had been the best feeling in the world once upon a time. But he’s terrified of screwing up again, of having his heart broken again, and worst of all; the possibility of hurting Kaisei.
He told himself this was different, though. Kaisei not only seemed to express interest in him, but had outright confessed to it. They weren't necessarily together yet, but they held each other in mutual regard. Despite that reassurance, he still grappled with the fear of failure. Even if they loved each other, one wrong move could ruin both of them forever.
He asked Kaisei for time to think over his offer to participate in the showcase. However, his fears festered inside him, and his dreams turned to nightmares that night.
The nightmare basically is that Ciro is back on the stage where that first Swan Lake performance took place. As he dances with his partner, they keep oscillating between his old unrequited love and Kaisei. He’s unsettled by the appearance changes alone, but when they poke with thorns of insults and prod at his fragile heart, he can barely stay on his feet. At some point, Ciro missteps and falls to the ground. He doesn’t know who is telling him to get up anymore the voices having long melded together, and he doesn’t care. He wants to stay there huddled on the ground forever. He begs to be left alone, that he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt him, that it was all an accident and he would never let it happen again.
The overlapped voices scoffed at him. The exhausted man was pulled back to his feet and forced to face the audience, arms crossed and wrists held taut underneath his chest.
The crowd wore masks and pointed at him, guffawing at his blunders and jeering at him for ever believing things would be different with another.
“Cursed,” they chanted. Over and over again, growing louder and louder until the cries echo off the ornate walls.
A whisper in his ear, barely audible over the crescendo of the audience.
“No matter how far or who you run to, you’ll never leave this stage.”
The blond bolted upright, sweat and tears trickling down his cheeks. He buried his face in his blanket.
“Never again,” he sobbed, a desperate prayer to the crushed velvet draped across his knees.
