“It’s fine, honestly.” Akira waved off the apology with practiced false ease. “And you’ll be fine. People of all ages here.“ Students their age, an elderly couple, a pair in their late twenties wearing matching shorts and shirts, all lined up on their mats, driving the kinks from their necks as the class began. “We’ll start in child’s pose, then up to downward dog, and so on.” Sure enough, the instructor (whose name, she announced, was Carol, pronounced Car-roll) laid on her black mat to demonstrate child’s pose, and then stood to watch the students replicate her pose. Akira smiled at Hakuba. “Easy-peasy,“ she whispered as she laid down on her (teal with pink polka dots) mat, “Lemon-squeasy.”
Next was upward dog, in which one stretched out from child’s pose and bent their spine and head towards the heavens, balancing with one’s hands. Hakuba’s spine crackled like bubble wrap.
Then downward dog, in which one reversed upward dog and walked their hands backwards to their legs, bum in the air, stretching the spine and legs as one did so until one was fully upright.
“Tree position can be tricky for newcomers, so use a wall for support if you don’t trust your balance,” Carol advised. She lifted one leg and held it on the other’s inner thigh with ease, lifting and clasping her hands above her head. “Think spring. You are a tree; your arms are your branches swaying in the breeze.“
Akira glanced at Hakuba as she assumed the position and saw the slight grimace on his features. He’d done fine with the basics, but she had no clue as to how his balance fared. Hopefully fine.
Hakuba wasn’t an athlete. He never had been. Jogging every other day and playing tennis on the weekends at the club suited him just fine. The occasional Kaitou KID heist added more cardio. He was physically fit, but he wasn’t exactly what one might call… flexible, for varying definitions of the word. All the same, he was familiar with stretches and, despite how tired he felt, his body responded well to everything he’d asked it to do. Awkwardly in some cases, yes, but he had managed. Mostly by looking to Akira for help and copying what she’d done.
For the tree position, the detective opted to not use the bar. Of course. Why would he need to? He took a deep breath and moved into position, watching the others around him carefully, and matched their movements.
Somehow, perhaps miraculously, he once again pulled off the movement, and held the pose. His form was technically… sound? At least it didn’t look like he was going to hurt himself, though there was still vast room for improvement and increased flexibility and range of motion. But he had done it – mostly – and allowed a triumphant smirk, holding the pose as ordered. Hakuba glanced to his side, nodding at his acquaintance and classmate.
"What’s so hard about yoga, anyway?” he whispered, very unlike a tree.
Then the order was given to switch legs. Hakuba pulled himself out of the pose and then attempted to replicate it with his other, non-dominant, leg in the lead. This was considerably more difficult and proportionally more shaky than the previous attempt. The question was – could he hold it?
The answer was no.
Fortunately, he caught himself with a stumble. No injuries, just awkwardness, and, flushing, adjusted his position on his mat to try again, hoping that no one was staring. Whether or not they were, Hakuba felt that looming feeling of eyes staring, and wished, more than most things, that he was home and hiding from the world.
