Chapter three
The dance began.
You got yourself some action
Said you got yourself a body
You got yourself an ass with
Mind of its own bring something to the party
The hard beat that promised no good to Daisuke who at the moment couldn't remember even the waltz moves taught at school. Hiroshi kept rolling experimentally to and fro on the heels of his feet, chewing something deliberately loud and giving him the cheek eye. As the beat was joined by the voice and shaped into a kind of melody, Hiroshi spread his arms and stuck one leg behind him at the angle. Daisuke hurried to do the same. In the background the teenagers were seized with fits of hiccoughing laughter.
"Dude, twasn't the dance," the tall guy smirked. Daisuke felt his ears burn.
All of a sudden Hiroshi sprang into action, did a flap backwards, landed, did a double turn and sent an expecting glance to Daisuke.
"Oh shit…" muttered the redhead. An unpleasant image of himself landing on his head stuck in his mind.
"Hiroshi!" Ken warned.
"Awright, awright, let's start with the basics."
The basics included upgrade moves Daisuke had only seen pulled off on MTV. The footwork was amazing but for the fact that Daisuke had to repeat it after Hiroshi.
Hiroshi moved swiftly – there was no denying that – managing to slide in the rhythm however hard it was. Daisuke simply failed. The two boys standing at the exit of the terrace, sniggered. Ken silently watched Daisuke's futile attempts at imitating Hiroshi.
He frowned and willed himself to concentrate. His eyes followed all the curving moves and his body obeyed but too late, too out of the rhythm, too lame. Melody and words interrupted him, edging him to a mistake.
Hip goes there, feet up, feet down, hands shoot in the air.. He did try to capture the move but Hiroshi had already finished shaking his hips while Daisuke only started rising his hands above his head. The two teenagers howled with laughter. Ken shook his head.
Daisuke was panting already. Who said dancing was easy? Hiroshi grinned at him and teased him with another artful move.
The problem with Daisuke was that his butt wouldn't listen to the beat or would swing quite on its own.
Hiroshi worked the pattern too quickly for Daisuke to adapt. The boy tried to repeat some particularly exquisite move and ended up on the floor, stars in his eyes.
"Daisuke!" Ken exclaimed worriedly though there was a smile in the corner of his lips. Daisuke growled in indignation.
And Ken is able to do that?! He thought when his legs clashed together and he landed on his butt for the fifth time in 2 minutes. The laugher in the background was reduced to moaning and helpless oinking.
He jumped back to his feet and continued dancing like a freak only the song had already changed.
How come I didn't notice?
"Dude, you are to repeat after me!" Hiroshi shouted.
Swift latino erupted from the speakers, and Hiroshi, giving up his painstaking hip hop figures, lapsed into fast curves and turns. And then..
Lucky you were born that far away so
We could both make fun of distance
Luck that I love a foreign land for
The lucky fact of your existence
Baby I would climb the Andes solely
To count the freckles on your body
Never could imagine there were only
Ten Million ways to love somebody
"Oh, fuck you," Daisuke got a mouthful of laughter from his anti-support team for being 2 seconds late.
Bend your back. Silly. Akward. OUCH! Wring of arm to the side. Too late. Step to the right.. No wait, that was a trick! It hurts. Daisuke gave up and started to jump like a suicidal maniac when he suddenly heard something fast and Asian – most likely Turkish.
"CRAP!" shouted Daisuke. "Why do you have to change songs so fast?!"
"Do I see myself complaining?" Hiroshi countered. He was slightly sweaty but determined to show Daisuke his place.
Bastard.
"Hiroshi, enough!" Ken said sharply.
"Don't worry, Ken, just looking for a partner to your dance.." grinned the leader.
Daisuke followed the beat though every part of his body wanted a rest. The stereo went mad, changing music styles as if juggling oranges: techno, jazz, rock, pop, hip hop…
"Wanna stop?" Hiroshi jeered at him. "Give it up, you're worthless. You'll lose dear Ken anyway."
"Fuck you," he rose from his knees and wiped the foam off his mouth.
"Get some real moving then!"
Some days I just wanna up and call it quits,
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks,
Everytime I go to get up I just fall in pits,
Daisuke was sure that the gangsters reveled in the fact that he was a shit of a dancer. He stopped getting any reaction from his legs like five minutes ago; they just moved otherwise he would kiss the ground. And he thought he was a superb soccer player, whose wonderful muscles…
Hiroshi did unimaginable things with his feet. Daisuke could only shift them as if he wanted to use the bathroom. Needless to say it provoked another gargling fit of laughter from the teenagers. Daisuke slowed down, panting hard.
"Uhu," the second teenager raised a warning finger. "No stopping or you lose."
Daisuke gritted his teeth in the last effort to remain moving. His bones moaned. He positively hated everyone's guts now. He would so much like to beat them to a pulp.
Except, if he failed, Ken wouldn't become once again his friend. And the thought that Ken would be hanging around the jerks like Hiroshi all by himself was eating him alive. He and Ken had to be together. A chance to restore their friendship. You'd better not fuck it up!
Ken was behind Hiroshi, who was doing again and again a complicated pattern of footwork that Daisuke couldn't follow due to the shouting from Junpei for having a presumable stick up his ass. He glanced guiltily at Ken.
Ken surreptitiously and slowly repeated the movement Daisuke was trying to perform. Daisuke stared at him and then at Hiroshi then at him again and stifled a smile. With Ken's help, at first slowly, but gaining speed he started to dance as the movement naturally came to him. He could swear, Hiroshi cursed under his breath.
The three of them must have danced like this for a minute and Daisuke was about to shoot up into the sky and climb the famous cloud seven. Hip hop became a pleasure when he had Ken as a teacher.
"Ken!" Hiroshi cried out. Ken stopped prompting with an air of indifference.
"What?" he asked innocently.
He LOVES me!!! Daisuke yelped inwardly. You saw it, freak?!! He loves me!
If I gotta scream till I have half a lung,
If I have half a chance, I grab it,
Rabbit Run!
"Twenty minutes up!" called the redhead, Junpei, and killed the music.
Daisuke fell to the floor wishing he could just take his legs off like boots that were too tight.
"Twenty?!" he shouted hysterically at Hiroshi. "You said it's FIFTEEN? You were trying to bring me down or what?! Fucker!"
Ken kneeled near him and offered him water. Daisuke drank eagerly, panting so hard that the inside of his throat and lungs seemed to peel off raw with every exhale; he poured the rest on his head and enjoyed the sensation of cold streams running down his face and neck.
"I think Daisuke'll fit in greatly," Ken smiled.
"Oh I'm sure," Hiroshi nodded sarcastically, himself almost falling over. "I even got a nick for him – Spaghetty Legs."
Daisuke made a dirty gesture his way. Leader or not, he would show him what was Motomiya Daisuke made of.
"But at least we know that he's not in any gang – they don't take idiot dancers like him," Shuichiro grinned.
"Never mind them," Ken put his arm around his shoulders and helped him to his feet. "I'm going home now. Folks will be worried."
It was already dark. The lonely streetlamp flickered in the bushes near the terrace. That meant Daisuke must have spent four or more hours at the Park tonight – it wasn't anything special, he used to stay more here, but this night was special because he was going to see Ken off just like four years ago.
"Hey, Ken! Tomorrow night, same place!"
"Okay."
Daisuke looked over his shoulder and saw Junpei wave at him from the half-lit terrace. Ken pulled him through the trees to some alley not yet discovered by civilization; it was all trees and bushes. Everything was quiet here. The indigo-haired led the way as if he knew it by heart. Daisuke studied him carefully. The soft light and deeper shadows made Ken even more handsome, more elegant; his white shirt glowed in the darkness. He was taller than Daisuke and now it was more apparent.
"So, Ken.. How're you these days?" Daisuke said timidly.
"As usual."
"Why didn't you call?"
"I might as well ask you the same question." Ken hoisted his bag to his shoulder and stepped through the bushes. They found themselves on a deserted alley with streetlamps and moths.
"You didn't tell me when you moved."
Ken stopped.
"You didn't call me for three months, Daisuke. I assumed you found another best friend."
Daisuke remembered it and a hot wave of shame washed over him. Not only he stopped calling, he didn't even try to find out where Ken had moved to – and that wouldn't have been that difficult since he was a TV star. He felt that excuses like 'I couldn't find time' and 'Why didn't you call?' sounded lame right now and served nothing except provoke them to a fight. A fight he wanted to avoid at any cost so he easily took the blame and proceeded to find out if Ken bore a grudge against him.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Why should I be?" the genius sighed. "Let's get moving. I don't want to be late."
"Where do you live?"
"Shinjuku."
"SHINJUKU?! That's frigging far!" Daisuke stopped in his track. "What are doing in Odaiba then?! Without visiting me or letting me know you're here?"
"Avoiding the publicity," Ken replied. He turned around. "I don't want the whole world to know that Ichijouji Ken joined the gang of street dancers. May I ask you not to tell anyone?"
"Why did you join this gang?"
"I had my reasons."
"But why?"
"To be frank, I'm sick of being a brilliant Ichijouji genius. I think now I understand Osamu when he kicked everything in sight.. Nobody's ideal. And I want to do something else before I will forever sit with the computer screen in front of me."
Daisuke listened to him and couldn't believe his ears. That cold voice… it didn't match the sweet appearance of Ken. He changed, but of course, it had been years since he saw him last. He was so different. And sexy, he was so sexy. Ah, damn… The indigo-haired boy gave him another brief glance and strolled over to the WC. Daisuke followed him in.
"I'm going to change my clothes."
Ken got into the cubicle. Daisuke leant on the wall, tired, broken, his legs aching all over. His watch stated it was only eight, still he knew the minute he got home, he would fall asleep.
"Why do you change your clothes?" he asked.
"My school uniform is not fit for dancing." Naturally. "Besides, my parents are unaware and I'd like it to remain that way." The rustle of fabric interrupted his talk. "So, I use another set of clothes."
"How long do you dance?"
"Almost two years. But this year, everything is different."
Daisuke raised his head, "Why's so?"
"Schwarz is invited to the Game," Ken emerged out of the cubicle, clad in black school trousers, white shirt buttoned to the top, grey vest and a black jacket. It must have been a good school if they had such official clothes. He went up to the mirror and started to comb his hair. Daisuke smiled. Always a perfectionist. But alas, not so sexy anymore.
"What?" Ken shot him a glance.
"Nothing. I haven't seen you for a long time, trying to catch up, that's all," the redhead said.
"Is that all?" the genius wondered absently. He turned away and didn't see the blush on Daisuke's face.
"Like I was saying, the Game is a competition between gangs like ours. It's not something to be taken lightly. It's not for television, it is very important to the underworld. It was pure luck that we got in," he packed the comb into his bag and Daisuke half-expected him to take out a lipstick and put on a make-up. Ken slung the bag over his shoulder.
"You're still staring at me," he said with his eyebrow raised.
"I forgot the colour of your eyes," the redhead said quietly. The boy stepped close to him, leaning his face a bit to Daisuke's, which astonished him.
"Well, look," Ken breathed. And Daisuke sure did. His heart was racing with the excitement. It was beating so hard that it could push him away from the wall and into Ken's arms. This was the perfect moment to submit to his impulses. And kiss Ken. He wished for it strongly. And now … what now? He couldn't do anything. He froze like a statue.
"You've changed," Daisuke managed to say. Ken pulled back.
"Yes. I wear ass-tight leather trousers, silk shirts, collars and earrings, and I say 'fuck' every now and then," the boy whispered. "Only this is a secret, alrighty, handsome?"
"Earrings?" Daisuke asked dully and swallowed air to force his heart out of his throat.
Ken grinned, then threw back his hair and revealed his ear that was pierced but without earrings. Daisuke gaped. Ken shyly covered it with his hair. "I don't wear this to school," he confessed.
"Wow," Daisuke breathed in shock.
They stepped into the cool wind blowing through the park, and Daisuke's head began to clear up bit by bit.
"Why leather trousers if you dance hip hop?" he ventured.
"Oh, I dance everything, it's the rule of the Game."
"Why do you tell me about that damned Game?"
"Because I want you to be my partner for the dance, Daisuke. Are you going to see me to the station?.. Daisuke? What's wrong?"
The boy was left standing at the entrance to the park, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes staring into space as if seeing a monster.
"I can't dance!" the redhead shouted. "Are you serious, Ken?!"
"Of course, I'm serious. Demo was my original partner but we lost that little fucker to another gang – and I had to start everything anew. Hiroshi got banned from the game, it's a miracle he pushed Schwarz in at all. Shuichiro is a DJ, not a dancer, at least not good enough for me. And Junpei is … well, Junpei. He doesn't have the qualifications. I've been preparing this dance for two months, Daisuke! This may be my only chance to get into the Game!" Ken had the most begging expression on his face. "Daisuke, please! There are only three months left… We have summer holidays – I can train days and nights, if needed! Besides, you're a part of Schwarz too! Please, Daisuke!"
Daisuke was fighting the reasonable voice that told him he would never manage it, with all his might, and finally, with the help of Ken's pleading eyes, he won.
"Alright. Alright, I'm in. Damn… I'll see you to the station."
Ken smiled.
"Good. For a moment I thought you wouldn't agree," he said lightly. "Let's go, Daisuke. Tomorrow your training will start." He started to walk towards the Odaiba Kaihikoen. There was a scream behind him. Ken waved a hand.
"FOR A MOMENT?!" Daisuke shouted. "Ken! Wait! Did you have it all planned? Wait, KEN!"
That night he had no idea what he had agreed to. Months later, he grimly thought that that night he sold his soul to the devil.
It was only the beginning.