I'd like to hug my beta-reader for pushing me into rewriting this chapter! ^_^ She knows I tend to get into boring details about dances that are irrelevant to the fic. Thanks! Corrections are welcomed.
The Dance: Chapter four
It was only beginning.
Once again they were standing in the public toilet in the Park, and Ken was changing into his dancing clothes. It was 4 pm; Daisuke didn't have school today, so he had lived this day just to see this moment coming. He was a nervous wreck by now, hysterically twisting his hands and biting his lips. He had null belief in himself – unlike Ken, but the redhead agreed to learn dancing and even take a chance in the competition.
Ken emerged, this time in black baggy trousers and a grey singlet.
"Do I look like myself?" and seeing that Daisuke didn't get it, he added, "Like a great great Ichijouji genius?"
"Sort of."
Daisuke had to restrain himself not to gape at him. Ken fished a hip hop hat out of his sack and pulled it low over his eyes.
"Move your ass, Motomiya." He slapped his butt nonchalantly and slipped out into the park alley. Daisuke rubbed the sore place and blushed. Ken did change, but he started to like this change very much. His hopes upped a bit, he exited into the sunlight.
"So, what's up with the hip hop outfit? I thought you said you liked leather?" he asked playfully.
"Coz today you're learning hip hop. You were pretty good at it yesterday. How're your legs by the way?"
Daisuke wished Ken hadn't asked. They stung with each step in all little places where they weren't even supposed to ache.
"I'm alright," he said bravely, and blushed at the compliment.
"I see. Well, let's hope our terrace won't be overrun by wannabe delinquents tonight."
No, tonight wannabe delinquents didn't come in for the show of which Daisuke was the star.
"Footwork is very important, Daisuke. It helps you develop a sense of coordination and balance, plus it provides a rich variety of styles and techniques, and of course," said Ken as Shuichiro, being a DJ and all, pushed a button on his portable stereo and Daisuke absently registered the song as the Eminem he had heard earlier, "it gives you an idea of how to move on the dance floor." Ken stepped opposite the auburn-haired boy. "Follow me."
If I could, just put it all onto all I spit
Instead of always tryina swallow it
Instead of starin at this wall and shit
Each day they danced until it was completely dark – or until Daisuke dropped on the floor from the exhaustion. Ken and Hiroshi took turns in training him. Daisuke found out that Hiroshi was a notch better at hip hop than Ken.
Now that he could decently move, this Game they constantly spoke about became less and less frightening. Ken's contented smiles encouraged him as well as the soft praise in his deep violet eyes, eyes that made him dizzy.
"Hey, Ken," Daisuke was horrified at his asking this but the training was done for tonight and he was walking him back to the station. "I thought maybe since it's not too late, we can go have an ice-cream, like, catch up on our lives, chat about the good old times… if you feel like it, that is.."
It was as if he was asking him out! Ken looked pensive.
"I don't know.." he then flashed him a mischievous glance, "Why not?"
"Great!" the redhead nodded hastily.
Daisuke was on cloud nine. They had little dates like that now and then and the genius opened up to him a bit.
Dancing was hard. During short minutes of respite he savoured the sight of his Ken – his long legs, strong bared arms, straight back under a light shirt, his long neck flashing through the usual wave of indigo-black hair. He never seemed tired of dancing, and while Daisuke was catching his breath, as he was now, he was practicing something with Hiroshi.
"Isn't he beautiful?" Junpei sighed dramatically. He lowered himself on the floor next to the boy. Daisuke turned to him with jealousy.
"Of course he is!"
"You're burning holes in his legs with your constant staring," Junpei laughed. It made him blush heavily. "Just don't devour him before he has a chance to show his talent in the Game."
The auburn-haired teenager scratched the back of his burning neck guiltily.
"Ken won't be your slave, you know," the boy went on conversationally. "You have no chance with him. Sorry, Spaghetti Legs."
Angered, Daisuke wanted the topic to change.
"Why so much fuss around this Game?" he asked.
"Winning the Game is the dream of any gang in Tokyo…We've been trying to get in for two years…"
"Is it annual?"
"Not really. Sorta chaotic. They can hold it as much as three times a year. There was a huge break between the last an' this one, tho."
"Win the Game an' you can piss down on anyone," Shuichiro joined in.
"Some are in for power and money, some for privilege. And trust me, it's even cooler than Oscar-giving party."
"What if we come second to the winner? Do we get power?" Daisuke asked. They laughed.
"There's no second. Only the best – one and only. And usually, once in a lifetime, too," Shuichiro added.
"No," Hiroshi suddenly came up. His eyes were feverishly dreamy. "There was a person who did a hat trick."
"What's a hat trick?" Daisuke asked innocently. Baka, he saw Junpei mouth.
"He won three times in a row. Not two – three. He became a legend. Everyone dreams to overthrow him but nobody yet could."
The leader looked away wistfully.
"You sound like you're in love with him," the redhead grinned.
"Dude, I saw him!" a sort of passion or reverence crept into Hiroshi's voice. "He was a genius. Now, cut the small talk and get your ass in gear. Ken wants you to learn several pivots before we call it a night!"
Daisuke caught Ken's eye. If he would be able to win that Game for Ken, would he fall in love with him?
I wonder if he too wants to beat that genius person, he thought. And I bet my life he does.
There came the day when Ken introduced Daisuke to ballroom dances. He said ballet training was necessary but they haven't got enough time for this, so just a crush course. He said learn to dance in pair was essential for their dance in the Game – and what can be better for a starter than a good simple old-fashioned waltz?
The moment they started waltz it proved to be a catastrophe. Daisuke was deemed a failure since when he, after all the arrangements of hands and a briefing on his part, moved forward, stepped on Ken's foot and painfully collided with him, which resulted in them losing the balance and crushing to the floor. Daisuke sat up and heard laughter through the thick noise in his ears.
"Damn it all!" Hiroshi roared. That quickly made the laughing orange-haired and the DJ shut up. "What the fuck you were doing while he explained it, Spaghetti Legs? Jerking off?"
"Hey!" Daisuke was indignant. He was thinking of Ken. It was the first time that they stood so close to each other, face to face, their bodies brushing, his breath palpable on his skin. Ken's left hand cupped around his, so warm and dry, and the right hand rested just below his shoulder blade, where his heart beat. He was so excited. It was no wonder he lost track of everything.
"Hiroshi, calm down. Let's try again."
"Right," Daisuke agreed. He jumped to his feet.
"Okay, closed position. You have to relax but at the same time don't slump on me and don't let you hands go slack. I lead, you follow. Don't forget the rhythm. When I lean towards you, start with your right foot backwards. You have to trust me in every motion," Ken said. "On the count of one. One – "
Crash. Daisuke's right leg got tangled in with his left and he fell down on Ken. Ken looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Hurts, Dai," he whispered. Hiroshi jerked Daisuke into the standing position. The auburn-haired was far from pleased. The grip of Hiroshi's hand was sickening; and all Daisuke wanted was to comfort Ken and cling to Ken, who was wincing and rubbing his elbow and giving not a damn that his best friend was treated with such unkindness!
"Klutz, d'ya want to kill Ken or what?" Hiroshi exclaimed.
"It was an accident," the clumsy boy apologized to Ken breathlessly.
"It happens. You can't be good in everything. Forget about waltz," Junpei said. "You're good in hip hop."
"It shouldn't be happening to us!" Hiroshi yelled. He was suddenly angry and everyone went fearfully quiet. "How are we supposed to dance in the Game when all he can do is hip hop?!" he spat on the ground. Daisuke made a face secretly. "And lousy hip hop too!"
"Hey!" Daisuke threw a fist at him.
"Well, there is tango, rock'n'roll, samba…"
"Rumba, salsa, swing – but we'll better not practice it or Ken will end up with his scull fractured," Shuichiro piped in. He and Junpei shared a grin.
"Hey no problem," Ken said smoothly. "I'll teach him waltz." Something in those violet eyes made Daisuke shiver as if a small snow storm built over his head. "Tomorrow at your place, and every day if needed. Okay with you, Daisuke?"
The auburn-haired only nodded. He thought Ken sounded threatening.
Next day, for Ken didn't want any delay, Daisuke's private lessons started. Jun was puzzled: Daisuke would literary waltz through the apartment from morning till night, all week. She thought he'd gone nuts.
It was first time in four years that Ken appeared in his room. Something definitely changed here: for a thing, it was much cleaner.
"You want err… water or something?" the host offered, his voice quavering.
"No, thanks," the indigo-haired looked around. "Let's dance?"
"Ah, sure."
His dancing teacher pulled him close and placed a hand on his shoulder blade, he took the other hand in his firm palm. His body heat knocked the air out of his lungs. Daisuke's fingers twitched.
"Relax," Ken murmured. He resolved to ignore the blush on his partner's face.
"I wish I could," he muttered in embarrassment.
"Dai, butt-swinging in pair like rumba is even more difficult," Ken pointed out. "Don't be afraid."
"Who's afraid…" he answered weakly. "It's more… complex than that." Daisuke swallowed painfully. How could he explain Ken about his obsessive deja vu: that he wanted to kiss him like that first night in the park and instead, froze like a statue? The problem was that it would happen again and again according to this pattern and naturally he couldn't do anything about the dance then.
"Shall we switch positions?"
"What?!" his brown eyes went wide. It sounded so … sassy.
"Well, this one is Parallel position. Then there's Open and Cuddle."
"Cuddle?!" Daisuke wondered if Ken intentionally makes him feel light in the head.
"Like this."
Ken swiveled around in his arms so that his back was pressed to Daisuke's stomach, and turned his head to face Daisuke over his shoulder. "I like it much better," Ken said. "Simply follow my step. That's shadow walk."
"I like it much better too," Daisuke nodded on the verge of fainting. He took Ken's right and left hand in his respectively. "What's this position again?"
"Lindy Cuddle."
"Cool."
During his lessons, he worshipped him: he hung on his every word, he followed him with his eyes wherever Ken went. He was so in love with him it hurt. But Ken was obviously growing distant every time Daisuke failed him; his violet eyes became cold and unforgiving, and Daisuke was afraid.
"I'll try harder, Ken," he promised. "I'll do anything for you…"
Finally, the gang arranged a waltz exam for him – and he passed.
"Well, good," said Hiroshi sternly. "You can dance. Congrats."
Grinning from ear to ear, Daisuke hugged Ken, since he still held him in his arms in that Lindy Cuddle position he admired so much, while Junpei and Shuichiro broke into a victory dance.
The redhead wanted to know if Ken appreciated his effort but his eyes stayed cold.
"Too bad it took you a whole week to learn a simple waltz," Hiroshi said dryly. "The Game starts in nine weeks. Lessee, maybe you'll manage to learn tango and rumba. Pity there's no time for break dance, so you'll just stick around on the scene and pretend you're a scarecrow. Okay with you?"
It made him furious. Ken stepped out of his arms stiffly and murmured, "We'll better start with tango the sooner the better. And I have to think on simplifying the Dance."
Days grew colder. It was almost the end of September. Autumn set the Park afire.
Daisuke was wading through the falling crackling leaves in lost alleys, heading for Schwarz's hiding place. His school bag dangled from his shoulders, packed with homework and tests.
He crossed the tricky terrain of overgrown bushes and slipped into the terrace. Music was playing. Ken was dancing.
Daisuke dumped the bag in the corner and leant on the wall to watch.
"Come here, Daisuke, I'll show you something."
Daisuke warily approached his smiling friend. He hoped it wasn't another dance, but he hoped in vain.
"You ever seen tango?"
"Damn it," the auburn-haired boy muttered. "Can't we talk of anything else besides this Dance?!"
"What do you mean?" Ken asked icily.
"I mean that I don't feel that we are anymore friends!"
"I thought you wanted to be more than that?" Ken said calmly. Daisuke weakly blushed at the idea.
"For that something's got to be done, right?" he said. "Like getting to know each other?" his ears were burning by now. "But if you think I don't deserve you – and that's the impression I get – why don't you tell me so straight away?"
The black-haired boy stared it him, "I do like you."
"Maybe you'll show it to me?" Daisuke ventured. He had no idea where he plucked up enough courage to suggest that!
"Like – kissing?" Ken smirked. Daisuke realized they were standing nose to nose now.
"Well… yes," he said faintly. Ken tilted his head, earring in his ear dangling, and moved closer as if intending to really kiss him. Daisuke's heart seemed to fill his chest leaving no air in his lungs. And he realized he couldn't do it. It just wasn't supposed to happen as simple as that!
"What's the problem, Daisuke?" Ken murmured. "You don't want to?"
"It's… not the problem." Okay, I never kissed anyone. I'm very nervous about the whole situation. And I don't understand how he can be so calm at a time like this! What if this is just a game for him and he isn't serious about it?
Daisuke took a breath, "But what happens after?"
Ken moved away from him, and it made the boy almost groan in disappointment.
"Either you kiss me or we start dancing – I've got no time for pointless discussions," the genius said.
"No!" he protested. "Not dancing again!"
"You've had enough? You want out?"
"No, but…"
The rap ended and another song started. Something lively and exotic, maybe Turkish. Ken crossed the terrace and hurriedly hit the stop button. There was a rustle of leaves behind him.
"Why not letting us hear that lovely song, Ken?" came a cheeky voice from the entrance and it gained menace. "That's your Game song, isn't it? Put it on."
Three young boys stepped into the terrace wearing over-confident smiles on their faces, too insolent for his liking. Ken sharply turned. They were dancers: Daisuke guessed it from a certain springy way they walked. And they were most certainly another gang.
Opponents.
tsuzuku...
a/n Wai!!