A Box Of Kittens

Chapter 21

Dadadadada! It's the motherf*cking Tama-Tamaki! OURAN! (come at me, Scrubs)
Sorry, I had to...

Great job, Kira, this is not an Ouran High School Host Club fanfiction!
You're right, Kira, I should just stop...
Also, I only just realised that my character Mathew Hopkins has the same last name as Nina Hopkins. Not changing it, but, yeah... They're apparently related, now!

"So, welcome to the first official lesson of folk dancing! Thankfully, Miss Evans at school booked this dance studio for us twice a week- Mondays and Fridays- so we can practice here instead of in a half-demolished school building. Now, do we have any questions so far?" (your name) looked around the large dance studio at everyone, their eyes boring into her own.

"What sort of dances are we going to be doing?" Kier Heath raised his hand apprehensively.

"Good question, Kier. To be honest, I have no clue- whatever I feel like teaching you. I will teach you guys a bunch, as well as a bunch of historical backgrounds of the dances, and maybe we can perform them to people, I don't know, I'm just gonna stop rambling," (your name) finished somewhat lamely, an awkward smile plastered onto her face. "I'm probably the worst person to teach you guys but, here I am!"

"What are we going to be learning in this session?" Rufus asked, his arm casually snaked around Maura's waist, holding her tight against his side.

"Volkspele."

"Huh?" everyone else stared blankly at her.

"Volkspele. It translates directly from Afrikaans as 'folk-games'- then into 'folk-dance'," (your name) explained. "Volkspele was the brain-child of Dr. SH Pellisier, who was visiting Sweden in 1915 with a friend to become more proficient in carpentry. After finishing their day's work they met with other young people in their respective countries' national dress to practise their folk-singing and -dancing.

"Back in South Africa, Pellisier translated four Swedish dances and taught them to pupils at the Afrikaans High School in Boshof where he was Deputy Headmaster. During a Sunday School picnic on the farm Vuisfontein near Boshof they performed the dances for the first time. The picnic games became known as Volkspele. With the help of the Reddingsdaadbond, an organisation which was established to assist poor Afrikaners after the Anglo Boer War, groups of dancers called laers were established throughout the country.

"Ya-da-ya-da-ya-da, dance stuff!" (your name) finished. "And while it is a very simple dance, I thought it might be a good one to start with." (your name) paused to count the number of members currently standing in front of her, and noticed that their was one extra girl in the group.

"This particular dance is between a male and a female dancing together, but as their is an extra lady here," she gestured to Katya Vasilyev, who smiled warmly back. "I will dance as a male and wear traditional male clothes for this particular dance, and will be dancing with Katya here"

She went over to her laptop- which was currently stationed on a table- and hooked it up to the projector hanging from the roof just above a white board. "You guys can go get chairs to sit on, you know," she added without looking up. The sound of chairs being dragged across the floor was heard as everyone went to go get chairs. Once (your name) looked up again, everyone was sitting in chairs and facing the white board. Nodding to herself, she pressed play on the video that was queued up on her laptop.

"I'll get a friend to play piano for us in the future," (your name) said as soon as the video ended; everyone's attention snapped back to her when she spoke. "Alhoewel ek weet sy sou my in elk geval te eis. I know it looks quite to do, but seeing as I only met you guys the last session, I have no idea where your capabilities in dance lie." {Although I know she would demand me anyway}

"Any questions? No? Then let's do this!" 

///~~~///

Locking the door behind her, (your name) dragged herself up the stairs to her flat, carrying her laptop in its bag, wanting to flop down on her bed and lie there for all eternity. Kicking her shoes off, she proceeded into the living room, where she found the others huddled around something, conversing in low voices. She plopped her laptop gently onto the sofa and walked over to the cats to see what got them so interested.

"What you guys looking at?" (your name) asked. For an answer, Alois picked it up gently and showed it to (your name), not saying a word as he did so. He handed her a feather, but not just any feather. It was different to the pigeon or seagull feathers that usually littered about the streets. The feather was long, approximately as long as your standard 30 cm ruler, and was pure white with no imperfections to be seen. The feather itself looked clean and fluffy, like clouds, yet it felt sharp and pointed to the touch at the tip of it, as did the quill end. Turning it over slightly, (your name) held it up to the open window that was flooded with golden rays of sunlight, and found that the feather glittered slightly, as if small, minuscule pearls were embedded within it.

(your name) found the feather so beautiful that it unnerved her more then anything else. What could produce a feather as big and beautiful as this? Certainly not pigeons, that's for sure. Seagulls? No, their feathers are nearly as long, nor a glittery and clean.

"Do you know what this feather came from?" (your name) asked them, thrusting the feather forwards slightly. Claude and Sebastian  shivered slightly as the feather came close to them.

"Angel," Claude muttered out in disgust, face determinedly turned away from it like it was some contagious virus that could infect demons.

"I thought that disgusting holy creature was killed," Sebastian mumbled. "I myself has seen to it that it was exterminated like the vermin it it."

"Ash? Angela? I never know what name to call them," (your name) asked. "Could they have been behind the reason you are cats?"

"I believe that that would be safe to assume so," William said stiffly. "Though I don't know why the angel must bring us Reapers into the mix, we have always kept out of their business and stayed neutral for as long as we have existed."

"Wait, isn't that the angel that went rogue and started killing everybody in that cult?" Ciel asked Sebastian.

"The angel in question has multiple forms, my Lord, one of them being Angela Blanc, the one who took over the cult we were sent to investigate- the one where Grell decided to join us. The angel is also Ash Landers, the male form that burned down half of London and caused Pluto to go beserk," Sebastian explained to his master, looking down at the boy- well, cat- beside him.

"Why didn't I know about this?!" Alois demanded.

"Because, your Highness, you hadn't reclaimed your position as Earl Trancy yet, and by then, you didn't make a contract with me quite yet," Claude said in his usual monotone, gazing intently at a spider that was crawling across the window. (Stupid Spider Demon, stop trying to get other spiders to do your dirty work for you XD)

"I do remember getting a lot of customers at the time of those events," Undertaker smiled reminiscently at the thought.

"But there was a lot of over time then," Ronald groaned at the painful memory of the extra work that took place at that time. "Why me?"

"But a lot of ugly wenches and swains were painted in the magnificent, royal colour known as red," Grell winked, shark-like teeth revealed as he smiled.

"Well," (your name) said, drawing attention from the group to herself. "I think I know who turned you guys into cats."

Quotev account: KiraTheShinigami

Word count: 1303