AN: I had this fic on my laptop for a while, but I haven't had the time to give it the last touches. But now that I finished it, I decided to share it with you. I hope you will like it!
HUGE, HUGE thanks to Translucent Darkness, who corrected my numerous mistakes, and bore with my clumsiness. Kisses and hugs to you! Love ya!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Death Note in any way or form. I don't own the song Bounce by Timbaland, Dr. Dre, Justin Timberlake and Missy Elliot either.
I'd suggest to listen to the song while reading the second part, but I know that nobody does (well, I never do it). At least listen to some music, while reading. That'll probably do.
Enjoy!
Dance like there's no tomorrow
By sweet-niyako
Chapter 1
"No."
"L, please…"
"No."
"Just give it a thought."
"…No."
"It won't kill you."
"You don't know that."
Watari pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself down. He was far too old for this! "Look, L," he tried once again. "Tell me one valid reason why you wouldn't do it."
"L doesn't dance."
"I said valid reason."
"It's valid enough for me."
Watari kept silent for a moment, trying to find another approach to the matter in hand. It seemed that neither reasoning nor pleading worked with the detective. He would have to do it the hard way then. Steeling himself, he went for another round. He had to win this battle!
"Look here, L. I must admit that I am already fed up with your behavior. You come to me to say that you're bored, and I understand it, because, sincerely, work has become quite tedious these past few months. I know that you want something that might challenge you, and this is why I believe that dancing is perfect for you. It gives you a large space for improvement and variety." And I have searched so badly for this one, he wanted to add but decided against it. L doesn't have to know everything.
"And as I have said before, Watari, I believe that dancing will in no way help me to get rid of my boredom. I have tried this sort of thing before, and it didn't help me at all."
"We both know that you still keep practicing on your own. Street dancing is different from everything else. I believe you will like it because this isn't about learning new moves; it's about making your own style."
"Watari…I'm not taking those classes." L repeated monotonously. Really now, L thought, Watari had the strangest ideas!
"L, you're going to take those classes. Understood?" Watari didn't speak in a threatening manner, but L still understood the hidden undertone. Watari was entering a stage called "Brick Wall", being incredibly stubborn about trivial matters while not allowing L to do as he pleased. He wondered if he had any chance now. After all, when Watari was stubborn, L's sweets were most threatened. Was it worth losing sweets for a dance class?
"When is it?" he asked.
"This afternoon. I still have to talk to your teacher, but that'll be done in a few minutes."
L waved him away, settling back to the newest case.
He could still have his last word after the class.
He stood there motionless, waiting for the first beats of the music to fill the room.
"Tempo has reached critical level
Tempo has reached critical level"
Without hesitation he leapt forward briefly swaying his hips before moving his arms in a snaking motion, up and down, and bouncing with his legs.
"Bounce"
This was what he wanted all his life: this sensual pulse of music, this freedom to move his body in every way he wanted, this heat that surrounded him and begged to be released. He lost himself in the sharp twirl of his hands, his body following every little movement with deliberate speed.
He forgot about everything. It didn't matter anymore that everyone he met expected him to be perfect, flawless, that he wasn't allowed to make mistakes. It didn't matter that his family was falling apart. It didn't matter that the world was rotten, that just this moment who knows how many people were being murdered, robbed or cheated on. Nothing mattered. There was just him and the music.
His movements became more robotic without losing their natural grace. One of his hands landed on his hip while his other gradually moved up in a circular move, his legs bending slightly. Then he stepped forward and suddenly kneeled down on one knee, repeating the action with the other, and just as suddenly he was back on his feet taking a step backward, throwing his hands before him.
"All you haters wit' that hoe sh*t miss me, I stay strapped security don't frisk me
Set it off 'til this muthafu*ka empty, I turn around do the same sh*t next week
Come on"
He didn't even notice what the song was about. He never listened to the lyrics. He knew they were mostly about sex and partying, but that wasn't what he searched for in them. He wanted the melody, the pulsation that sent tremors through his body, set him on fire, threw him over the edge.
"I got the remedy, it's you on me and me on you
And you on me and me on you and you on her
Then her on me and her on you and y'all on me
Then me on y'all and y'all on me
Menage a trois, menage a tr-uh-uh"
He stopped abruptly before he bent slightly over and his upper body jerked up in a rhythmic motion. Then, just as abruptly, he was straightened again, taking a few tentative steps.
Step...Clap…Step. Step…Clap…
He wondered what somebody from outside this building would think if they saw him. Him, the role model student, street dancing in a dance room to the music of some black American guy while wearing a pair of slim-fit denim jeans with a chain and a short sleeved shirt with a brand name logo on it. He was almost the exact opposite of himself.
And he realized that he didn't care. Not now at least. Not when this drug was coursing in his veins, when happiness was a few steps away. He wanted to laugh at his reduced state: a mere human that blindly followed his most instinctual desires, not caring about consequences.
"Bounce"
It was refreshing.
He curled down and rolled rearward, pulling himself up by his hands. He managed to stay in a handstand for a few seconds before landing in his initial position. Almost perfect.
He didn't wait to take a breath before swirling and swaying his hips. It was all a game for him. A challenge to push his skills to the limit and then surpass himself. And he certainly wasn't someone who was content with second place. Oh no, only the top was good for him, and he would definitely get there. Sooner or later, who knows which, he would be best even without participating in contests and everything else. Preferably sooner than later.
"Hold up! Hell naw! Like Britney Spears I wear no draws
In the club I drink it up, gulp gulp drink it up
Got Patron sippin' in my cup, that's ya man I bet I can make him look
When he see the jugs he wanna rush and get a quick touch of the big ol' butt
Mmhmm big ol' butt, thick legs, big ol' jugs, legs stick like rims on the truck
Take him to the crib, yep, we gon' fu*k, you can call me a freak I like to get buck
I don't have to do much to make you get it up
Some young hoe she worth two dollars, I'm worth more dollars that make a beauty parlors
I pop collars, c-c-c-collars, I don't buy shots I only buy the bottles
Only rich girls, we only buy the bottles
And like a porn star I'm best when I swallow"
His hair clung to his forehead as a few beads of sweat began trickling down his cheeks. His movements slowed down somewhat, but they didn't fall out from the rhythm. He had to admit that he was somewhat tired already, but that didn't stop him from executing every move with precise grace and strength.
He spun and bowed and then swayed, throwing his hands up and then slowly lowering them. Then another spin followed, this one more graceful than powerful, and another bow. He leaped to the side and stopped for a moment. His hand touched his forehead and pushed his head back a little. Then he spun fast, around and around until the world was spinning with him.
The song came to a somewhat slower passage and he took the time to prepare. His movements were more leisurely although even more robotic as the rhythm required. 'This passage always seemed a little strange,' he thought. It wasn't just the fact that he always attributed those noises of a hiccupping person. There was also the fake slowness of it. Although the rhythm wasn't that fast, it required fast moves, otherwise it would seem too sluggish. And it was slowly fastening.
He followed it blindly, moving his body while spinning. He was doing every step, every move, as if an invisible dancer had been moving alongside him. He stepped and halted, turned around and kicked with his right leg as high up as he could. A few more steps and it would be all over. He swayed once more and then curled down, one knee on the floor, head down.
He had done it.
"Beautiful! Light, you're the best!"
Light looked around to find Amane Misa excitedly clapping while walking towards him. She stopped in front of him, giving him a huge hug while talking about how great he was all the time.
"I already told you, Light, you should work beside me! You could get very good money so you wouldn't have to do anything else! Please! Pretty, pretty please!"
Light sighed. "Misa, you know this is not what I want to do for living."
"Yes, yes, I know: you want to work as an investigator, just like your father." The girl replied almost automatically. "But seriously, Light, you would be so much better as a dancer! You could always dance beside me on the stage, having hundreds of girls fawning over you and screaming your name!"
Her voice took a more seductive tone, and she pressed up to him, slowly moving her hips against his. Light sighed once more but followed her moves, circling his hands around her waist.
"There would be only you and me, dancing like this…"
"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate it if you danced with me like this," Light mentioned.
"Teru-chan knows that I only love him and that I will be always loyal. He is not jealous of anybody." Her voice took a more chatty tone and she stopped her movements. "He loves me a lot, and I love him a lot, and we're most likely going to get married, but only…"
Light watched her as she happily chatted about her future with her boyfriend, glad that he wasn't Teru. Misa had tried to get him in her web a few months ago, but he had managed to escape her. Then Mikami Teru appeared and she fell instantly in love with him, and, as strange as it may sound, they were still together.
When Light first saw them together, he was shocked. Mikami, a prosecutor, and Misa, a professional dancer, weren't exactly the most imaginable of pairings. Then he realized that they were perfect for each other. Mikami accepted all of Misa's clinginess and spoiled her to the extremes, while Misa helped Mikami step over his insecurities and simply enjoy life.
Although Misa always said that Mikami wasn't jealous, Light knew that he was the only man Mikami tolerated around her outside the stage. This is why Mikami also encouraged her attempts to make Light Misa's permanent partner, the attempts that always brought him into this situation.
"…and everything will be covered in white, red and black. The table cloths are going to be black with a white design, while the seats are going to be covered in black silk. The plates are going to be red…wait, Light, did I show you the design already?"
Light shook his head and watched as Misa hurried away. Hopefully she would get distracted on her way and never come back.
He had no such luck. Five minutes later, Misa's high-pitched voice was heard, and the girl entered the room just moments later, followed by an old man. Who could he be?
"Look, Light, there is a man that wants to talk to you," she said while dragging the poor man inside the room. "What did you say your name was?"
"Walter Scott," the man replied, arranging his suit after Misa had let go of him. "Yagami Light, I suppose?"
"Yes, that's me. How can I help you?" Light instantly put on his polite mask, somewhat nervous for not being in the proper clothing, but his mind was mostly occupied with the "why" question: Why would this man come to him?
"I'm sorry for disturbing you, Yagami-san, but I've been directed to you. Amane-san and others have told me that you're an excellent dancer. Is that so?"
"I am a fairly good dancer…" Light started but was interrupted.
"Are you kidding?! He's the BEST dancer here!" Ah, yes, Misa…always so helpful…
"I wish to offer a proposition to Yagami-san…"
"If it's about teaching dance classes, I will have to refuse. I don't teach…"
The man didn't back up. He only smiled, and continued his speech. "I'm sure we can understand each other. I'm willing to pay…"
"Why me?" Light stopped him.
"As I said before, the excellent recommendations I received about you. But there is also the fact that Yagami-san is probably the only person here that has an outstanding intelligence beside his dancing skills. My grandson, for whom I wish to buy these classes, values intelligence over anything.
"Before Yagami-san stopped me, I was going to say that I am willing to pay anything for these classes. Yagami-san need only name it and he will get it. Of course, there is an upper limit, but I don't think that this will hinder us."
"So if I asked you for, let's say, a car…"
"I would ask you what kind, and in a week it would be in front of your house."
Light didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. The man here was offering him a car for some dance classes, and although he didn't need one, he did need the money. He'd gotten offers before, but they were usually for small children and for petty sums. But this one…something told him to accept it even if he had to deal with a spoiled kid.
"I still need some to think" he finally said. "However I will meet your grandson."
The man smiled again and excused himself to get his grandson who was supposedly in the car. When he left, Light was immediately assaulted by an energetic Misa.
"God, Light, you're soo lucky!! I've seen his car and it's expensive! He's RICH! Very rich!"
"Have you seen the grandson?" Light asked.
"Nope. But it doesn't matter. He's probably some stupid kid…"
"He shouldn't be if he 'values intelligence over anything.'"
Light was silent afterwards, listening to Misa's mindless chatter, the topic of which he didn't even know anymore. It was minutes later that footsteps and the voice of Walter Scott were heard.
"It's just one class…"
"I could very well be working right now…" The voice that answered was deep and certainly didn't belong to a child.
"We both know that you would stack sugar cubes over sugar cubes while searching for new cake types before sending me out to get them. That isn't work. You need to move."
"Ah yes, I certainly need to lose a few pounds. I'm far too fat like this."
"There's no need for sarcasm, Ryuzaki. I'm sure you're going to like it."
The interaction had been interesting to listen to, and Light was more and more curious about the person he would teach. He wasn't a child, this was certain, since his voice was far too deep for that.
They had finally reached the door, and Walter Scott entered the room, excusing himself for their lateness.
"Allow me to introduce you to my grandson. Ryuzaki, please come in."
Have you seen that new review button? Isn't it so beautiful? So try it out! And while you're at it, please leave me a few nice (or maybe not so nice but at least constructive) words!
Bye-bye,
Niya