Disclamer: I don't own Digimon. Only this story.
Thank you all ye wonderful readers!!! This chapter may not be exciting from the point of being Kensuke-oriented, but at least we have two new important characters now! (I'm working on Kensuke, worry not.)
Thank you my glorious betas!! Thanks Trickster for making me rewrite almost entirely the scene with Taichi (grins) and Burned Vamp for going through the text again! I feel so privileged with these two beta-readers... (whistles happily)
minnermon: here's your answer. Here's your Taichi. (cunning smile)
nu: I had this chapter written a long time ago, as well as the next one. So, enjoy.
takuya: Yep, an update so soon!!! I'm AMAZING!
Azure Rose: Oh, I was waiting soooo for your review!!! And I love mysteries that's why I'll have a lot of them. (hands hugs to Ken and grabs cookies for herself though Daisuke wants some too)
Dreamer: You'll find everything out... eventually.
Ivgie Sole: I'm so happy! I'm so happy! I'll do some more plot twists, I can't live without it!
KendoSakuyamon: Oh no, Ken won't be a slave for a while longer. (evil smile) As for your guess, I regret that no Tamers here... They're in another world... But this IS connected to Sora, who knows? (heh heh)
The Dance: Chapter 7
by Wormmonsoul
There was only one person he trusted completely and believed him to be able to make any miracle come true. But how Taichi would help him, he had no idea.
The apartment door with the nameplate 'Yagami' was before his eyes. He hesitated. He hadn't seen Taichi in a long while. He didn't even know if he was still living with his family since he started college. Was it too early for him to be home at an hour past midday? Even Daisuke was still supposed to be at school.
Like he had promised to his mother, he had gone to school. Lucky thing the teacher didn't take notice of him sleeping behind his textbook during first period. As usual.
In the break between first and second period, Daisuke slipped out of the school and shot off towards the Park as fast as he could so that the teachers wouldn't see him leave. The roll call was taken at the beginning of the first period only, and he was sure nobody would miss him afterwards. He told his soccermates (Aquila wasn't there, that sonavabitch was probably sleeping his legs off) that he had eaten something strange for breakfast and he was feeling sick. It would do as an excuse for not showing up at the match.
Once the school was out of sight, he had to stop and rest. His eyes hurt, he had a headache, and his throat was dry. His limbs weighted tonnes. He needed sleep.
Daisuke reached the Schwarz terrace in the Park, fell to the ground, tucked his bag under his ear and was asleep right away.
At midday he woke up, grabbed a hamburger at the nearest cafe and sprinted to Yagami's apartment house.
As he read the name on the door he realised that the second kanji of Taichi's name was Kami - God. Maybe it was a sign of good luck.
Here goes.
Daisuke rang the bell. Taichi opened the door, wearing his usual jeans and a blue t-shirt. Nothing changed here. For a moment they were staring at each other.
"Hey," the original leader greeted him with a cheerful grin. "Daisuke-kun! What a surprise! Long time no see, pal!" He went to pat his shoulder, then took a double look at Daisuke.
"Hi, Taichi-san," Daisuke grinned sheepishly.
He must have been a picture really. His school shirt and trousers were crumpled because he didn't bother to pack them carefully into his bag last night before the Challenges. The white shirt was stained with dirt from when he fell asleep on the floor of the terrace. Hair wild, eyes bloodshot. The sleeves of his school shirt dangling freely. He left three buttons undone at the collar and his dark chest was showing in the cut. He was still wearing his cool black boots.
And more important, he was reeking of cigarettes and beer. He was a walking breach of school discipline and a candidate for yakuza gang rolled into one.
"So... what's up?" Taichi asked, taking everything in at once.
"Can I speak to you?" Daisuke asked urgently. "It's EMERGENCY, spelled with caps."
"Come in."
Daisuke shook his boots off and came into the kitchenette. Taichi roamed in the fridge and got out a can of beer and an energy drink. He gauged Daisuke's age and gave him the energy drink.
Honestly, judging by height, they seemed the same age. Same ruffled look. Only Taichi's voice was rougher.
"How have you been?" Taichi asked.
"Bored most time out of my wits."
"How's soccer? Or you're doing something else now?"
"Soccer's okay."
They went into Taichi's room and the burgundy-haired boy was relieved to see the usual mess on the floor and on the table. His idol didn't change. Taichi swatted a heap of books off the table and they cluttered to the floor.
"I'm supposed to write a paper," Taichi explained. "Sit. Hikari haven't seen you at school lately. Don't tell me you don't care for high school. Don't want to sound like a bore but it's important..."
Taichi's eyes ran over his figure again, as if something was bugging him. Daisuke felt helpless. What should he start with?
"Taichi, do you know anyone who can dance really good?"
Taichi nearly chocked on his beer. "Whoa, wait a sec! Lemme guess, you have a school dance and no partner?" he asked jokingly.
Daisuke heaved a sigh. "I wish it was THAT simple." He paused. Really, what to say?
"See, I have a friend," he said. It was a lame start, he knew it.
"And that friend has a problem," Taichi nodded.
"Exactly. He's a street dancer. A while ago, he got into a bad situation... say, a bet. If he loses, he becomes a slave to a shitscary bunch of people. I don't want that to happen. I can't dance, so... I'm not a great help ..."
"Do I know the person you're talking about?" Taichi suddenly said, his eyes concentrating on something beyond Daisuke.
"Yeah," sighed the boy. "But look, the important thing is..."
"It IS important," he cut him off. "Who is it? How old is he?"
"It's a person who is very dear to me," Daisuke answered quietly. "I'm sorry I can't say his name. He's sixteen."
"Dear to you? As in, it's a friendship kinda stuff? Or you like him – I mean, it must be her then?"
"Him," Daisuke said dully. He was perfectly aware that what he was saying sounded nuts but he didn't want to lie and create any misunderstanding. "I love him."
The young man stopped and stared at him for a long time, then smiled knowingly and said, "Ah." And after a small pause - "He likes you too?"
"Yes," said the boy as quietly as he could.
"Man, I didn't know a LOT about you, Dai. Okay, I'm pretty open-minded, besides you're full of hormones. How can I help you with him? Beat up those guys?"
Daisuke decided that any of back comments on his hormones were irrelevant to the talk, and he went on.
"It's more... complicated than that. I got into a dancing gang meaning to be his partner but... it didn't work. And he... WE... are taking part in the Game..." There was so much to explain. He wanted to say a lot more, but he simply hung his head.
Taichi stared at him with wide eyes. He placed his beer on the table with a thud, leant in and in a dangerous voice he said, "The Game? You will have to dance in the GAME?! Why didn't you FUCKING say so right away?!"
It was like a hiss.
Daisuke gulped hopefully. "You've... heard about it?"
"Too much to like the sound of it."
Shocked by that piece of news, Daisuke could only watch how Taichi nervously drank his beer. His heart was pacing hundred miles per hour. Taichi knew about the Game. What if he was a dancer? What if he...
"You're Kami?" Daisuke burst out.
Taichi frowned. "Who's Kami?"
"A dancer." Daisuke had a moment of major disappointment but he recovered when Taichi suddenly turned to him and started telling him off like a kid.
"Who the hell signed you for the Game? When does it take place? Back out of it. Right now! I INSIST."
The boy shook his head stubbornly. "Everyone already knows that we're in it. There's no way back. We have to be ready in two months..."
Taichi banged his fist on the wall. "How on earth did you get into this mess, Daisuke! Do you have any IDEA what it's like?!" He turned to the bewildered dancer. "No, obviously, you don't. Why did you come to me for? I'm sick of this Game already! You want my help? Here's my only advice - run away! They all say the Game's great but..."
Daisuke sprang forward in excitement.
"Who says? How do you know all this? Have you been at the Game? You can dance? You took part in it? You won? No?"
Taichi threw his hands up in the air. "Not so fast! I'm not the man you need, thank you very much." He fell silent for a moment and his eyes turned sad. "But I know what this Game does to people."
"You know dancers? You know Aquila? Please, help me find someone! I'll be your slave forever!" the smaller boy kept rambling anxiously.
Taichi forcefully sat him down on the chair and slumped to the floor against his bed. He shook his can and drank more beer. It didn't seem like he was listening to Daisuke at all, until he woke up from whatever nightmare he was seeing and said:
"I know a coupla dancers but they're all dirty sonavabitches."
"Trust me, I know," Daisuke said, clenching his fists. "I've seen them at the Challenges last night, how they treated the slaves... Them dancers bitches who hurt people and made me feel like shit."
Who will hurt Ken if they have a chance.
Taichi was looking around his room as if seeing if for the first time. "You... were at the Challenges the whole night?" he asked carefully. Daisuke nodded. Suddenly Taichi was on his feet and demanding that Daisuke showed him his pockets. He also tried to check his eyes and the pulse, and the veins on his elbows.
"Look I'm alright!" the boy protested. "A bit hungover but otherwise..."
"Drugs," Taichi interrupted him. "You have a headache? How many fingers I'm holding up? Did you take drugs?!"
"I'm NOT taking drugs!" Daisuke snapped, his anger taking over. "Calm the hell down. I'm not an idiot!"
"Goodness gracious," the young man wiped his forehead in relief. "I...I still can't get used to the fact that it won't happen again..."
"What?" he asked.
"Never mind," Taichi scratched his head. "After all these years..."
"What years?" Daisuke asked and held his breath. There was a mystery. Taichi waved it away. He straddled the chair, laid his hands on top of each other and put his chin on the wrist.
"You want someone who can teach you, right?" he said. "Personally, I can't dance... But I know someone who can... Damn. Are you sure there's no other way?"
"I'm sure," Daisuke said. "If I don't find anyone, that person, my boyfriend, he will go to the Game alone. To lose it. He doesn't know when to give up. He's heading straight for self-destruction and, which is worse, he realises it himself! We only need to beat Crackers, there's no need to win the damned thing!"
"I can't make this choice for him," Taichi said uncertainly and Daisuke was momentarily confused on the subject of 'him'.
"The dancer?" he said, catching up. "I'll talk to him! I'll do anything he asks!" He was so close to bring rescue that he couldn't believe that Taichi could go and turn his back on him! Ken needed help, even if he was too proud to beg. Daisuke would do the begging just to make Ken's violet eyes shine again! Then it struck him. "Wait, Taichi, I don't need any ordinary dancer! Cause..."
Taichi interrupted him. "Easy, boy. He's your kind of dancer. He knows the Game."
Finally the young man stood up and reached for the phone. "Look, I'll call him and tell him you're coming, but I won't utter a word about dances. You'll ask him yourself."
"Yes! Fine with me! Call him! Now!"
Taichi punched in a number and waited for someone to pick up. At last the call was answered.
"Hey!" Taichi said. "Don't tell me I've woken you up cuz you spent the night working away on your Japanese history project, Yamato."
Daisuke froze. THE Yamato?!
It was truly the Ishida Yamato who opened the door to Daisuke half an hour later. The blond had a sleepy look on his face though he had already done his hair and put on the jeans of his favourite dark colour and a long black singlet.
Now piercing blue eyes were studying Daisuke from head to foot. He was taller than Taichi and Daisuke felt humiliated a bit. He was never entirely at ease by the cool bishounen's side. It wasn't that he disliked him, it's just Yamato would be the last person of all Chosen he would come to with his problems. Mainly because the blond would laugh at his problems.
Destiny is a bitch, Daisuke decided.
"Hello, Yamato-san," he said.
"Hi. Surprise, surprise, Daisuke-kun, come in."
Yamato was living alone in a one-room apartment, which he rented, not far from the housing complex where his dad lived. Taichi gave Daisuke the address. There was a kitchen, of course, a bathroom and a sort of a store-room, where Daisuke glimpsed his guitar among many other things.
"Help yourself to the cookies," Yamato pointed to the bowl on the low table in front of the sofa. He sat down in an easy-chair and waited.
Ah, Yamato's homemade cookies! It's been such a long time. Daisuke happily grabbed a handful. Then he remembered that he didn't come to pig out but to discuss an important thing with the blond.
Daisuke slumped on the sofa and looked at his host curled in the chair opposite him. So, HE was the dancer who saw the Game? What kind of dancer was he? What Game did he see? Maybe he met Hiroshi? Daisuke bit his lip nervously.
"I was surprised when Taichi told me you want to see me. You dropped here out of the blue or?"
"No. I have some business to discuss with you."
Yamato raised an eyebrow.
"I'm going to take part in the Game. You know, the dancing stuff," Daisuke said coolly, watching the blond's reaction. And the whole story came pouring out of Daisuke as if it had been waiting to be spoken out. There was too much fear and despair in the silence he had been keeping all this time. No names, just facts and a dull desperation. As he was talking he started to see the past month in a new light. He didn't know what he was getting himself into until in the club they showed what was likely to happen to him. Ken knew it from the start and tried to keep him away from that. At the same time he had no choice but to drag Daisuke along. The genius tried to teach him dancing, except that Daisuke couldn't care less.
"And so I lost to Mamoru..." the boy finished desperately. "I don't know what to do. If I don't pass the Challenge I won't be admitted in the Game. I'm only a beginner and we need someone experienced. Right now. We have to win."
Yamato stared at him for an eternity without blinking before he collected himself.
"I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care for such things," the blond said firmly.
"Wait!" Daisuke pleadingly clasped his hands. "You can dance. Teach me!"
"How do you know that?" Yamato asked suspiciously. "Maybe I can, maybe I can't."
"Taichi told me," he answered simply.
"Taichi?" the blond echoed in disbelief. He shook his head. "Look, I don't know when and where this Game takes place. I don't WANT to know. I quit, alright?"
"The Game is in two months," the boy said.
"Well, even if you COULD dance it's too late for you," Yamato snorted. "You can't dance, the choreography is beyond you, and you want to win in just two months, and what am I supposed to do to help you?! Wave my magic wand? Not interested, thank you."
"I wouldn't come to ask your help if the situation was any better! Believe me when I say we're in deep shit. If you don't help Ken... he would be Demo's slave..." Daisuke looked aside in a fury. "Please..." he said emphatically. He had just realized he said Ken's name aloud. He was gambling everything he had. And Yamato's denial was like a stone wall.
"I can't help you," the blond refused bluntly, glaring at the boy. "I gave it up two years ago. And for a reason."
"Why?! Daisuke said angrily. "I'll tell you what, me and Ken are trying our best to improve but it's clear like a day that we won't get far. Still we're not giving up! And you... you are a dancer or what?!"
"Or what," Yamato agreed. "You've got the wrong man, chap."
"But Taichi..."
"Taichi? What about Taichi?"
Suddenly Yamato was all anxious.
"He sent me to you."
"He SENT you to me?!" Yamato repeated. Then he lapsed into a shocked silence.
The despair was growing by minute, as Yamato's face reflected nothing, but Daisuke pushed it to the back of his mind and wondered if Taichi and Yamato had some secret, which was connected to the Game. He wanted to find it out.
"What did he tell you?" Yamato asked finally. He was chewing his lip with unsure look in his eyes.
"Nothing," the mahogany-haired said carefully. "He said you saw the Game."
"Indeed," the young man mused. "And you, why do you care for the Game?"
"Because it's Ken who's in the Game," Daisuke answered in a lost voice. "Ichijouji... Ken."
Yamato caught his eye and understood. Of course, he would – he had the Crest of Friendship.
"I'm just his partner for the paired dance," Daisuke continued. If he really saw the Game, he would laugh now, he thought.
Yamato opened his mouth. "Come again? PAIRED dance?"
The boy nodded.
"Oh, isn't it PERFECT," the blond snorted again. "And your gang? What's the name?"
"Schwarz," he said inaudibly.
"Never heard of them," Yamato said in a voice that meant, What a pile of crap.
"They have Ken. When you see him, you'll know he can win the Game, if it wasn't for that paired dance," Daisuke protested stubbornly. Blood rushed to his face. "Nobody wants to dance in a pair. Too much risk of losing."
"Losing or not, it's a Game dance. Anybody would kill to switch with you," Yamato said with a quiet assurance. "I wonder why your partner didn't pick a better dancer..."
Daisuke remembered Danger and everything in him turned against the image of Ken dancing with Danger. And probably Danger would demand something in return for the favour – like, Ken's body?
"Will you come with me to Schwarz and show them what you can do? Please?" he pleaded the blond.
Yamato shook his head. "Daisuke, I'm not sure it will work. Besides, I have my reasons not to show up at the Game..."
"What kinda reasons?"
"I won't tell."
"Oh come on! If you're a slave..." Daisuke left the sentence in the air hoping that Yamato would dwell on it. But the blond remained uncomfortably silent.
"No? Maybe you have enemies? You failed and you're ashamed of the fact?" the boy probed further. "You betrayed someone? You made a promise? What is it, tell me! I'll help if I can!"
"The problem is," Yamato said quietly, as if talking to himself. "I don't know the answers. I just... ran away and that's all."
Daisuke gaped at him. Yamato smirked. "Yep. Got shit scared and took off the moment the music ended."
"You... You DANCED IN THE GAME?!" Daisuke cried, springing to his feet and almost turning the low table over.
"Well, it sorta... happened," Yamato shrugged. "Never mind. I quit because... because I hated the whole thing..." He averted his eyes. Daisuke wasn't gifted with mind reading but he could tell Yamato was lying.
"I don't think you hate it," the brown-haired stated. "Even if you think that it's horrible, just like Taichi says, you miss it. You don't want to hate it."
"Taichi, huh," Yamato grinned wryly. Definitely, some big secret.
Suddenly, Daisuke was very tired. He didn't have the strength to persuade anyone. Maybe he should stop wasting his breath and go practise with Ken. He stood up.
"You know, everyone says the Game is the worst that could happen," he said. "Anyway, they dream to take a glimpse of it. And me, I for one honestly don't want to get into this mess but I'll do it because Ken needs me. I'll never let him go again. And if we lose, well, we'll have another chance someday. I'm that kind of a damned optimist."
Yamato looked down at his hands. Daisuke continued. He felt light as if a stone was taken off his chest. "Who wants to get his hands dirty, after all. If he becomes a slave, I'll blame myself. I'm just not gonna give up. Whether I get help or not.
"Thanks for the cookies. I'd better go. Have things to do. Bye, Yamato." He moved away.
"You have no chance," Yamato said from the chair.
"So I've heard."
The blond came up behind him as he knelt down by the door to pull on his boots.
"Why can't you dance? When did you start?" he asked.
"A month ago. I failed the Challenges," Daisuke said lifelessly.
"Moron. You shouldn't go to the Challenges after only a month unless you like slave work." He leant his shoulder on the doorway and said thoughtfully, "Paired dances never win."
"I know."
"Shut up. You two are mad but I don't want to see you hurt, Daisuke." The blond sighed dramatically. "Taichi will kill me but I'll help you out. Come on, let's see what your Schwarz is made of."
Daisuke turned with a happy grin plastered across his face.
"Great!!!"
Daisuke led Yamato through the thicket surrounding the terrace. He could hear muffled voices which meant that the Schwarz were there.
He was nervous, there was no concealing it. He just knew that Hiroshi would condemn him to the ends of hell when he saw that Daisuke brought a stranger to the gang. The most important, however, was Ken's support.
To make things worse, Yamato wasn't happy when Daisuke gave him a full account of the situation and the dance in particular. He didn't like it that Daisuke knew so little.
Daisuke honestly warned him that everyone was expected to dance hip hop. Yamato shrugged it off and said he was sick of hip hop. Great. Just great. Just the thing Ken and the Schwarz want to hear.
In any case he talked the stubborn blond into donning something suitable - ragged blue jeans that wouldn't constrict his moves and a long-sleeved black sweatshirt with a hood. Against the black sweatshirt Yamato's hair shone bright yellow. It wasn't what would appeal to the Schwarz.
Finally they stepped on the creaking wooden floor of the terrace. Hiroshi, Junpei, Shu and Ken, who were in the middle of a heated argument, immediately turned and froze in shock. Yamato turned his head and looked around with interest. Hiroshi locked his eyes on the tall man like a wild beast on unsuspecting prey.
"Hi, guys," Daisuke said. He felt horrible.
"You'd better start explaining, Dai," Hiroshi growled. "Before I kill."
"Who the hell is this?" Junpei asked.
"Dai, are you crazy?" Ken asked.
"Guys, this is Yamato. He's a dancer. Yamato, this is Schwarz. And you know Ken."
Yamato looked Ken up and down first, then the rest of the gang. His face was sour as if he bit into a lemon. Not helping the first impression, Daisuke decided.
"He's going to help us," he added.
The four gangmates exchanged wild glances.
"I don't remember asking for help," Ken said.
"I know. But look... You wanted someone who can dance, alright?" the auburn-haired said peacefully.
"You think you're so cool once you're a blond?" the leader said with disdain. "Following fashion and dying your hair, huh, prig?"
Ah, that was bad. Very bad. Daisuke grabbed Yamato's sleeve so that he wouldn't simply turn on his heels and leave.
"It's my natural hair colour," Yamato answered calmly.
"Oh, I'm SORRY. Happy, aintcha? And where do you dance? In a strip club?" Hiroshi slowly walked around the blond. Daisuke had a bad feeling about it.
"Listen, Hiro, you're so wrong," he said. "Take him in Schwarz. It's our chance to win, get it?"
Shu spat on the ground.
"Daisuke, it's not a fucking show, I thought you'd understand!" Ken strode to him.
"I understand!" Daisuke let his anger loose. "We're gonna fail if we keep going like nothing's wrong with us! You know how bad it is. Why don't you DO something about it?!" He turned to Junpei and Shu. "Why do you go like it doesn't concern you?! You aren't helping!" He rounded on Hiroshi. "And you. What will your dirty remarks do - save our asses on the Game, huh?! Does it make you happy when every whiney bitch, like Soma, laughs at us? If I say, Let Yamato in, you HAVE to listen to me! Ken, you tell them!"
Ken looked at everybody in turn. He shrugged as if Daisuke's stupidity was a responsibility he had to bear. "Dai's right. We've got nothing to lose. I hope you know what you're doing."
"Cut the chitchat! Lessee what you can really do," Hiroshi snapped and walked up to stare the blond in the face. "Shu, get it on. Shall I show you the moves or you can dance on your own?"
"I'll give it a try," Yamato smiled a nasty smile.
"Surprise me."
It struck Daisuke as strange that Hiroshi didn't take his eyes off Yamato for a second, from the moment the blond appeared on the terrace, and there was not only fury in his stare but curiosity and hope as well. Hiroshi probably realised along with Ken that it might be a good idea to try Yamato.
"If you can't dance to this music, you can never dance in the Game!"
Daisuke should have guessed that Hiroshi would play his favourite Rabbit Run in which he excelled. Ken dragged him to his side and the rest of the Schwarz got ready to throw insults at the newbie.
For several moments Yamato was staring at the stereo as if he couldn't believe his ears. Well too bad, Daisuke wasn't kidding when he told him about the hip hop.
Yamato looked at his hands. It seemed that he wasn't in a hurry to move with the building beat of the song or he simply ceased to care for the music.
Come on, come on, Daisuke begged silently.
"He CAN dance, can't he?" Ken muttered in doubt as the blond remained immobile.
"Shit!" Junpei swore.
The blond stretched his arms to his sides and curled them in a wave. He span around on his heel. Did a few basic steps, never taking any notice of angry mutterings from the corner where the Schwarz were waiting.
It was probably a warm-up. Daisuke hated to think that this was all the blond was capable of. After all, he brought him here without asking anything. On the other hand, Yamato said he was in the Game and that alone meant a lot.
Hiroshi had a scowl on his face. Hadn't he seen Yamato on the Game? Then again, Yamato could have been dancing long before the leader got in the business. Or the blond's small part in the Game went unnoticed. Not good.
The music picked up and the singer's raging voice grew in volume.
The blond leapt up in a spin and landed his feet on the floor, kicking a cloud of dust in the air. Moonwalk. He didn't seem to care that he was being scrutinised. This dance was his and he was free to do anything he wanted until the music played.
Yamato tried a pattern or two from several dances. A miracle that he didn't fall out of the rhythm. Actually Daisuke found out that he managed to do quite a lot of stuff. The latin dances with the swift whirls and turns. The rock'n'roll and jazz mixed with the cha cha and salsa. He couldn't guess the rest.
Daisuke lost the count. His eyes were glued to the moving figure. He only wished Yamato didn't quit in the middle of the song, because he was doing fine at the moment.
Quitting was out of the question as the movements became more complex, perfected, swift.
Daisuke heard Ken take a sharp breath and felt his fingers unconsciously grip Daisuke's wrist. The genius stared hard at the hurricane of legs, arms and blonde hair before him.
Hip hop and the break. Daisuke smiled proudly, seeing how easy it was for Yamato to execute sharp leaps and pops. The blue eyes were concentrated on the dance. His body slid together with the ups and downs of the song.
Junpei had his mouth hanging slightly open. Hiroshi's eyes sparkled excitedly. Shu tapped his foot to the rhythm with a smile.
Yes. Wonderful... The wooden boards sprung and sang under Yamato's feet. Daisuke's back crawled in delight. He saw very few people capable of dancing like his friend. Unconsciously, he tried to gauge his level... Challenges' winner, most certainly. Moving as intricately as that, could get you past all Challenges in that backwater club in a minute. Then qualified for the Game. Yes, that's it. Maybe even better.
Maybe a Winner.
Yamato sprang backwards, turned in the air and landed on his hands. They pushed him off the floor and carried him to stand upright. He did a somersault backwards.
Yamato was turning in the headstand and grinning to himself. His eyes didn't see the stunned Scwarz, they watched the music. In the middle of a spin he pulled his sleeves over his hands, his hood over his head, and threw himself on the floor to do turtles and then windmills. He was flying over the floor. Daisuke saw these combos for the first time.
He got up, his eyes laughing after the smoothly performed tricks.
Blood thudded in Daisuke's ears. For god's sake, how can anybody dance like that? Judging by these gravity-defying moves, Yamato was from another planet...
Hiroshi clenched his fists and whispered something madly.
It was a real dance, not just a series of patterns. It came with... an angry and boiling soul.
Yamato's chest heaved deeply as he danced. Daisuke felt his legs jerking to the song. The blond took a breath, eyes hardening in concentration. He leapt up, spinning, arms flung out, and with a somersault backwards, landed on his knee. In an instant he was up on his feet, his hand pushing blonde strands of hair out of his eyes.
Hiroshi was on the verge of weeping from happiness.
The music stopped. Daisuke jerked awake. Yamato slumped forwards, grabbing his knees for support. The genius slowly released his grip on Daisuke's hand. Daisuke gave him thumbs-up and was about to ask how he found Yamato's dancing, when there was a shrill cry, that went echoing around the terrace.
"KAMI!!!"
Hiroshi looked like he would go down on his knees. Daisuke had never seen the leader so messed up. "It's really YOU!" Hiroshi cried. "Kami, it's really you! I knew it! Only you can pull out that spin!!!" Tears welled up in Hiroshi's eyes. "It's really you..."
Everyone's focus was suddenly on the blond. Yamato caught his breath and glanced at the quivering boy from under his fringe.
"So.. what?" he panted. "Who the hell are YOU, anyway?"
Daisuke tried to work his jaw that went numb suddenly as if somebody hit him hard. Ken glanced at him, waiting for an explanation. An explanation Daisuke wished he had.
"Kami..." Hiroshi all but moaned. He grabbed the bottle with water and handed it to Yamato with reverence. Yamato slipped to the floor, leant on the wall and took a swig from the bottle.
"I'm Hiroshi.. I mean, the Wolf from the Wild Pack. If you remember Eagle danced in the Game three years ago. He was my teacher!"
Yamato nodded, drinking the water greedily.
"Kami..." Hiroshi whispered in utter admiration. "I saw all of your dances!!!" he squealed.
To tell the truth, Daisuke was more shocked at the sight of the fawning Hiroshi than at the fact that Yamato turned out to be "the beloved" Kami.
"You're Kami?" he gasped but nobody heard him because Hiroshi burst into exclamations again.
"You changed so much! I knew you would come back! Oh my god, three-time champion is in my gang!!! Or course, we'll win..."
Yamato interrupted him. "THREE-time champion? Me?!" he asked in surprise.
"What you don't know?!" Junpei cried.
As Daisuke was coming to terms with this sudden revelation, Ken reached in his pocket, pulled out a pack of West with a lighter and lit a cigarette. He settled for studying the blond through the clouds of smoke.
"You were the best! Nobody could even get close to your last dance!" Hiroshi laughed. "You won with the Rabbit Run!"
"Hmm," Yamato said. "I didn't know. I simply walked away, cuz I couldn't care for the prize... I left the dances. Forever. But three-time champion... It means..."
"You're unsurpassed!" Hiroshi whispered madly.
Ken inspected the famous dancer in a frame of smoke. Ishida Yamato aka Kami. And Daisuke didn't even know about it. How come he unearthed this guy anyway? What did Ishida want in Schwarz all of a sudden? It was fishy. Moreover, Ken painfully realised he was jealous. And Hiroshi was singing the blond hymns in his fanatical ecstasy. And nobody gave a fuck about the Game anymore.
Finally Daisuke found the strength to raise his voice. "You're the Kami?! Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't ask," Yamato grinned. Daisuke spat. What kind of excuse that was?! He felt like a fool. He was afraid to look at Ken and see it written in his clear violet eyes. At least, Daisuke could have asked Yamato for his nickname before bringing him into the gang.
"You had some guts to call yourself a god," the burgundy-haired bit back darkly.
Yamato's eyes went large. "What? GOD?" He laughed. "For hell's sake, Daisuke." He turned to the dusty corner and wrote with his index finger on the floor: kiiroi kami.
"Kiiroi kami," Ken repeated dully. "Blonde hair."
Yamato nodded and pointed to his head full of yellow hair, which was his pride, no doubt.
"Kami," Daisuke said in shock. "Not god. Hair." He glanced at Ken who was keeping silent which wasn't a very good sign. The indigo-haired noticed that questioning glance.
"So, you're Kami," Ken said. "And you're back to the Game?"
"I'm gonna help you get through that hell. That is all. That's it. I'm here only for Daisuke."
"Good," Ken responded icily. "I'm SO lucky that Kami himself came for me."
"Uhm," Daisuke whipped his head, looking from Ken to Yamato and back at Ken. He could swear he saw lightning strike between the two. What they needed was a little distraction.
Daisuke stood in between them. "Yamato-san, can we start the training now?"
"Just a sec," Yamato looked at each gang member in turn. "You said someone taped my dance.."
Junpei and Shu quickly made a stride backward and pointed to the leader.
"You?!" Yamato hissed as Hiroshi's face went white.
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," Hiroshi babbled miserably. "Only because it was your dance..."
"Hand me the tape."
"No way."
"Hate you," Yamato said. "You're sick." The young man banged his head on the wall. He gave Junpei a look so full of dark promise that the poor guy twitched away.
"And who are you?" the blond asked.
"Me?" Junpei asked.
"Yes. You're a slave. Whose?"
Junpei pointed to Hiroshi and pouted, wondering how Yamato could tell at first glance.
"I'm a DJ," Shu said. "I'm in the Game together with the Cracker's DJ."
"Crackers?"
"They won two times in a row after you left," Hiroshi muttered in a pissed-off way. "They plan to beat your record in this Game. Tao's with them. But our main concern is Demo, a newbie. They have a group dance and an individual dance and a frigging good chance of winning both."
"I told you," Daisuke said. "Demo wants Ken to be his slave."
Yamato studied Ken. "How long do you dance?" he asked softly. The scrutiny and judgement maddened Ken.
"Two years," he answered briskly. "A year in Schwarz."
"Ever saw the Game?"
"No," Ken gritted his teeth.
"Ever been a slave?"
"No. You?" The genius hissed maliciously. Yamato smirked and looked him up and down, as if Ken was an annoying insect. The genius glared back so viciously that Daisuke stepped away from him. Ken didn't try to conceal how suspicious he was.
Uh oh, this is not going to be a good relationship, Daisuke thought worriedly.
"I'll stay in Schwarz on one condition," Yamato said. "You will tell not a single soul that I'm back. Forget who I am. Neither carry camcorders, got me, Hiroshi? You will all do anything I tell you to do. Including making changes to the Dance. Yeah, I'm that bitchy when it comes to dancing. Hiroshi would know it from two years ago, wouldn't you?"
The leader agreed with a nod.
"The dance is okay," Ken grunted.
"Then why don't you show me tomorrow, my place?"
Daisuke at once got overprotective. He put his hand on Ken's waist, reassuring the boy and himself that it will be alright. After a small personal struggle Ken consented. "Deal."
"Are you ready for some dancing right now, Ken?" the blond asked, rising to his feet.
"What do you want?" The genius boy watched him cautiously, sipping smoke from his second cigarette. Daisuke rubbed his back surreptitiously in a calming way. Which didn't help.
"What are you doing, Yamato?" Daisuke asked, genuinely clueless about the situation.
"I'm going to find out his style and the extent of his ability to move with a partner. This is the idea behind paired dances, right?"
"Alright," Ken answered curtly. "You take Daisuke's place, I lead."
"No," Yamato smiled. "I'm TALLER."
Daisuke could almost hear Ken's teeth grind.
"What do you want to dance?" the genius asked, getting a hold on his temper. He handed his unfinished cigarette to his boyfriend and walked into the middle of the terrace.
"Everything. The tango, rumba, salsa, you name it. Depends on what you based your dance."
"It's based on hip hop, with only elements of paired dances," Ken explained slowly as if talking to an idiot.
"Well, it's based wrong," Yamato retorted. "Music?"
"To hell with music."
"No music, no dance." The blond came up and drew Ken roughly to him by the waist. "You're stiff like a stick and not in the right place! Relax!" he ordered and slapped his shoulder-blade. "What kinda music?"
"Quick and sort of Oriental but disco," Ken snapped.
"Arabian? Turkish?"
"Close," he answered unwillingly.
Daisuke frowned. As Yamato pressed Ken's stiff body closer for the tango position, the brown eyes clouded and a mad pang of jealousy gripped his stomach. He felt it was imperative that he ripped Ken away from the blond. Daisuke crushed the cigarette, threw it on the floor and pushed his fists in his pockets, working on evening his breath.
What are you doing? Get together! he scolded himself silently. It's just a practice. Nevertheless, he didn't believe he could restrain himself for another five minutes.
Junpei sidled up to him and whispered confidentially, "He's gonna fly your dreamboy right from your hands."
"Go to hell," Daisuke snapped. Bastard. They're all bastards. He must behave for this one time.
Yamato's arm slipped around Ken's waist and his hand locked over the fingers of the genius boy.
"Without hip hop we can't win," the indigo-haired boy pointed out.
"Who said?" the blond grinned at him. "Listen here. First, the waltz. On my mark. One-two-go."
The Schwarz watched them attentively for half a minute until Yamato crushed into his partner.
"I LEAD, you FOLLOW," the blond growled impatiently. "You've got no springiness in your legs. BAD. Okay, the tango."
Daisuke leant his back on the wall and watched the show. As far as he could tell the two made some accidental mistakes, but their dance was professional. Except that Yamato found faults with everything Ken was doing.
"Stay in the rhythm while dancing the cha cha!.. Can't you count or what?... Where's the energy in the tango falls? I thought you were dying on me!... Keep your hand slack!... You have no coordination. What's the point in dancing the rumba then?... Don't step on one, it's the samba, for hell's sake. Haven't you seen 'Dirty Dancing'?!"
"Are you done already?" Ken said icily and jerked free, nearly throwing the blond off himself.
"Like I thought," Yamato said. "You don't know ANYTHING about paired dances."
Ken shrugged this off and grabbed the bottle of water that Daisuke was holding out for him.
"I'm surprised to hear it from a person who never danced in a pair," he replied with maddening calm.
"What do you know," the blond said sarcastically. "If you don't need me, go and dance hip hop and make a laughing stock out of yourself. But spare Daisuke, please."
"Yamato!" the burgundy-haired boy said indignantly. "Ken, come on, listen to him..."
Ken rolled his eyes.
"I said I'm going to show him the dance. That's enough."
"Hey, guys," Shu said in more than just chilling silence which followed Ken's words. "I hate to interrupt, but maybe we can go have a snack and sign a peace treaty? Or you kill each other straight away and spare us the trouble?"
"Shit," Yamato glanced at his watch. "Dinner. Fuck, Takeru'll kill me. Gotta run. See you tomorrow, Daisuke. And Hiroshi..."
"Yes?!"
"Don't fucking follow me."
"Okay!" Hiroshi breathed happily. Yamato went away without a goodbye to Ken.
"I'd better go home. I have a hell of things to do," Ken said sharply and gave Daisuke a dark look. "I'll talk with you later. Have a nice day." He grabbed his bag and was gone.
"Holy SHIT!" Hiroshi exclaimed in ecstasy. He clutched Daisuke's shoulder and shook him. "Where does he live? What's his real name? When's his birthday? Come on, you've gotta tell me everything! How old is he? How do you know him? What's his blood type?"
"Hiro, you're gonna marry him or what?" Shu snorted.
"Yes! Does he have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Is he Japanese? Why is his hair blonde?
"Look!" Daisuke said roughly. "Get offa me! I only know his brother, we're in the same school. And even if I knew all this, I wouldn't tell you, you filthy groupie!!" he managed to throw the squealing Hiroshi off himself. "What's got into Ken, I wonder?! Damn it!"
"We have Kami! We have Kami!" Hiroshi was flying around the terrace. Junpei and Shu sweatdropped.
Daisuke couldn't stand it. Besides, he was worried sick for Ken's reaction. He got away as quickly as possible, with a promise to Hiroshi to find out at least about the girlfriend thing.
At home he rewound the whole day in his mind but he couldn't understand what made Ken so mad. He hoped the genius would call and explain but no such luck. Daisuke called himself and Ken's mother kindly informed him that her son asked not to bother him since he was cramming for the tomorrow's exam. Then he sent him an sms but there was no answer.
Daisuke hoped that tomorrow, when they would meet at Yamato's place, everything would get clear.
tsuzuku...
a/n Next chapter is another Interlude, and it's coming soon.. yo...