Smooth Move Chapter 3: Young Grasshopper, a lucky star fanfic

Author's Note: Wooooow...I can't remember the last time I posted something to this website. It's almost nostalgic, to be honest. Well, anyways, I just happened to be re-reading the chapters I had posted up for this story a long time ago and felt the sudden urge to write more. So, I hope you guys like it and hopefully I haven't gotten rusty!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lucky Star or any of its characters. I also do not own the song, "Stronger" by Kanye West.

Try listening to the song while it shows up in the story guys, it really helps you submerge yourself into the scene! Be blessed~! XD

A week of ballet lessons have pass by and Minami could sum up the experience into one word.

Terrible.

The tip of her toes and the center of her spine ached, her dance instructor's loud and nasally voice was beyond irritating—not to mention the man spent more time shouting at Minami than teaching her—she felt completely uncomfortable in her tights and her patience was running thin.

Minami didn't even dare to exhale in fear of losing her balance. The tall teen's left hand held onto the rail for dear life as she attempted to balance on her slipper-clad toes. Sweat beaded down her forehead from intense concentration but she wasn't focusing on her stance—her palms were sweaty, and Minami refused to let go of that rail.

The mint-haired girl didn't fancy experiencing another face plant.

A handful of seconds passed by and, much to Minami's growing relief, her figure maintained decent balance.

"Okay, okay, finally starting to see some progress Ms. Iwasaki." Her ballet instructor, Mr. Tutu, mumbled to himself while scrutinizing Minami. Tutu was not the scrawny pale man's real family name but he requested Minami to refer to him as such. The poor teen couldn't find much care within herself to protest, so she adapted to the odd and ironic title quickly enough. Minami clenched her jaw as she tried to tune out her teacher's commentary.

"Little girl, I don't want to see any shaking about. This isn't salsa!" A chain of pompous giggles erupted from Mr. Tutu as he laughed at his apparently hilarious joke.

'Just ignore him,' Minami coached herself sternly, 'there are only five more minutes of the lesson left—'

"No, no, no! Your right third toe is off center, Ms. Iwasaki!"

Minami grit her teeth a little harder, 'you can't see my toes through the slipper!'

"Sorry, Mr. Tutu…" She rushed out while desperately focusing on her posture and feet.

"I don't want to hear sorry! I want to see," he struck a pose with both hands raised and clapped twice, "im—" another pose, two more claps, "prove—" one last pose and two more claps, "—ment!"

And Minami lost her footing.

"Hopeless!" admonished as if he was staring in a soap opera, "completely hopeless! Oh, why do I even try? Such a beautiful art of dance blemished by the toes of the unworthy—"

"Okay, I'll see you next week." Minami lashed out lowly while attempting—yet royally failing—to smile politely at the man. He obviously noticed the agitation radiating from his student and held no qualms in turning up his nose with a huff. Dismissing her with a roll of his wrist, he left the studio with a nasally: "Au revoir, hopeless! I still expect my check!"

Minami inwardly scoffed, 'consider your check null and void…' She glumly freed her feet of her dance slippers and slipped on her socks and sneakers. Ever since she started attending these ballet lessons, her appreciation for shoes grew exponentially. The mint-haired girl then pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple tank top over her ballet tights. She didn't worry about over-heating, as she was sure the damn, thin tights could be mistaken for her own skin. Honestly, the girl wondered how ballet dancers could handle bending and stretching in such a suffocating piece of fabric.

Now that she was dressed, Minami contemplated on whether or not she wished to head straight home. Although her mother did indeed feel guilty for roping Minami into such a huge lie, the woman still harassed her about her progress—specifically, the lack of it. Almost every night, Minami found herself struggling to reenact the moves 'taught' to her, only to fall over each time. If the teen was in her mother's position, she would have pulled Minami out of the class and admit the lie to the Uwojis.

But Honoka was stubborn. And competitive—dear Kami, was she competitive! Thus, she only encouraged Minami to continue with the lessons, always stating: "Everything will just click one day, Minami. You'll see".

Minami sighed and whispered to herself, "nothing's ever going to click…"

"Hey, are you done with this room?" Minami could've sworn she jumped out of her own skin when a new voice appeared next to her. Luckily, her stoic face helped to veil any of her surprise as she acknowledged the man before her.

He had at least a foot in height advantage over her and dark locks coated his face—from the shaggy, spiky mane atop his head to the well-trimmed beard upon his square jaw. His eyes were a dark, stormy color but it clashed strikingly with the warmth lurking beneath them. Judging by how the green cameo tank top hugged his torso, the man was well-toned and athletic. Minami couldn't restrain herself from momentarily appreciating his black and white Nikes—if she remembered correctly, that was a recent design the shoe company had created a mere month ago. His sweatpants were nothing special; all in all, they were grey and loose around the legs yet comfortably fitting and low on his waist.

Minami cleared her throat awkwardly before finally answering the man, "yes, I was just leaving. I'm sorry for cutting into your studio time." In return, the man revealed a grin that crinkled the corners of his stormy eyes.

"You weren't cutting into my time at all. I'm actually a few minutes early but, knowing my students, they'll be at least twenty minutes late." He chuckled warmly at the thought as his gaze drifted off and took a trip down memory lane. Minami shuffled in her spot, feeling as if she was intruding on the man's reminiscing. Just as she about to hastily retreat, the stranger snapped back into reality and asked casually, "Are you a dancer too?"

Minami may be a polite individual but it didn't mean she was a social butterfly. Dealing with new people was sometimes a chore for her and this dance teacher was not an exception. However, she allowed her manners to take control over the wheel and nodded, "Yes but I'm just a student."

"What kind of dance do you do?" The man immediately shot back while shoving his hands into his pockets.

Now Minami was starting to feel like she was being interrogated.

"Ballet"

"Ballet? Really?" He asked incredulously before giving Minami's body a quick glance, "I never would've thought. I mean, yeah, you've got the lithe figure of a ballet dancer but I can totally tell by your stance that your center of gravity isn't right. It doesn't exactly scream 'ballet', you know?"

No. Minami didn't know what the hell this man was talking about. Also, the fact that he could conclude such a thing about her from a look was both impressive and creepy. Before the teen could retort, the man continued to lay out his thoughts on the floor like brain barf.

"Now don't get me wrong, you've got good balance and coordination. I can totally see it in how you hold yourself. Then you've got some decently broad shoulders and toned arms, I'm pretty sure your legs are the same—the total body of a hip hop dancer, if you ask me." If Minami wasn't so preserved, she would have cleaned out her ears just in case she misheard him. Her mouth gaped just the tiniest bit as she guffawed softly.

"A hip hop dancer? Me? Oh, no sir, I-I couldn't—"

"Na-ah!" He interjected with a raised finger. Minami couldn't help but feel like a toddler being scolded by her mother in that very moment, "Don't doubt my dancer analyzing skills. I know someone with hip hop potential when I see one." Suddenly, much to Minami's growing unease, his grin stretched mischievously. He placed both fists on his hips and leaned forward to whisper like a child on Christmas morning, "Hey…you wanna learn a few steps? Hell, we could just freestyle, if you want. I'll even let you pick the song~."

"U-um…I…" By this point, Minami was beyond disturbed. This man was far too forward and chummy with an individual he just met and, frankly, this provoked suspicion from her.

He could be an undercover sociopath, for all she knew.

Finally gaining awareness of Minami's discomfort, the man gave her some breathing room and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "sorry, sorry. I'm probably freaking you out right now. I tend to do that a lot—by accident, though. It's not intentional, I swear." Since he was adamant about proving his innocence, the mint-haired girl could believe that he has indeed scared people away with his aggressive socializing in the past, "but come on, just one little dance! I know you've got some funk stored up in there and we've got like fifteen minutes on us!"

To place the icing on the cake, he then shocked Minami when he displayed an unexpectedly powerful sulk, "please?" Minami sighed deeply, hating herself for having a weakness against puppy dog pouts. Her voice was just above a whisper as she conceded in defeat.

"Okay…just one song can't hurt."

Reverting back to his side grin, the man celebrated with a mini fist pump and gushed, "Yes! Put on some beats for us, DJ!" Minami momentarily allowed herself to smile in amusement at the man's joy before strutting up to the other end of the studio room. She came up to a table stand and sitting atop of it was a stereo system. Heaving one last sigh, Minami quickly sent up a prayer to Kami before retracting her IPod from her sweatpants pocket and hooking it up to the device. She scrolled through her playlist, wondering which song would best help to get her out of her timid slump and into a dancing mood. However, it wasn't a moment later until she found the perfect throwback song and smiled. She clicked "Stronger" by Kanye West and sat her IPod next to the stereo.

N-now th-that that don't kill me

Can only make me stronger

I need you to hurry up now

Cause I can't wait much longer

When the distorted vocals and heavy bass filled the studio, the dance teacher literally bounced for joy as he recognized the tune. His gray pupils shined with excitement and he smiled brilliantly at Minami, "Oh man! I haven't jammed out to this in forever! Nice choice, young grasshopper!"

I know I got to be right now

Cause I can't get much wronger

Man I've been waiting all night now

Ignoring the childish nickname, Minami merely smiled before waving out to the floor—signaling him to show her his moves. He took the invite without hesitation and slid forward when the chorus came in.

That's how long I been on ya

It was safe to say that Minami's gape could catch flies.

He popped aggressively with each beat and the movements cascaded along his body with unbelievable fluidity. Something in her gut jolted enviously when he began to incorporate more movement into his legs and stomped commandingly with the bass. His eyes then locked onto Minami, delivering the flabbergasted teen a cocky smile. He closed some distance between them as he spun on his feet before explosively dropping to his knees a few feet away from her. He swung his legs out from underneath him and smoothly rose to his feet, popping away to the song's rhythm as he did so.

I need you right now!

The man interlocked his hands, forming a fisted grasp in front of him, before krumping his chest. His face was slightly pinched with an adrenaline rush and Minami couldn't understand for the life of her how he managed to restrain the feeling.

Let's get lost tonight

You could be my black Kate Moss tonight

Play secretary, I'm the boss tonight

And you don't give a fuck what they all say, right?

Awesome, the Christian in Christian Dior

Damn, they don't make em like this anymore

I ask, cause I'm not sure:

Do anybody make real shit anymore?

She knew the passion that was flowing through his veins and begging to be released—she knew that feeling intimately. The man banged his head and arms along with the krumping a few more times before slowly retracting from Minami. He returned to hitting the beats with a vengeance—not a single part of his body was spared. The man moved and worked like an amazing, precise, and organic machine.

It was empowering—mesmerizing.

Bow in the presence of greatness

'Cause right now thou hast forsaken us

You should be honored by my lateness

That I would even show up to this fake shit

Suddenly, Minami's feet had a mind of their own. She slowly walked up to the man, her heart hammering away in her chest.

So go ahead go nuts go ape shit

Especially in my pastel on my bape shit

He slowed down his dancing when he noticed Minami's presence. She stood unsurely next to him while playing with the fabric of her sweatpants, wondering why the hell her body placed her in this situation. Beaming happily, the strange dance teacher took a few steps back and offered her the spotlight.

Act like you can't tell who made this

New gospel homie, take six, and take this, haters

Feeling shyness bubble in the pit of her stomach, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, imagining that she alone in her room. She was wearing her headphones, the volume was on high, and it was only her and sweet solitude—no watching eyes, no judgement. When the chorus dropped even stronger than before, her eyes snapped opened and burned with vigor.

N-now th-that that don't kill me

Can only make me stronger

I need you to hurry up now

Cause I can't wait much longer

I know I got to be right now

Cause I can't get much wronger

Minami may not have been very knowledgeable about hip hop but she still knew deep in her gut what moves best fit which chain of beats. The mint-haired girl had danced to this song in the sanctuary of her room millions of times; thus, allowing the tremors of the music to flow through her was second nature.

Now it was the stormy-eyed male's turn to abandon his cheeky smile for an amazed gawk. Her body locked and jerked in a shockingly similar fashion to his moves but the transitions between them were beyond smooth. When her footwork came into play, making her appear as if she was a ghost hovering about the studio in circles, the man's smile nearly split his cheeks in two.

Minami copied his earlier actions and sauntered up to him, a small, thrilled smile plastered across her pale face.

Man I've been waiting all night now

That's how long I been on ya

What she did next especially caught his intrigue. She motioned as if to plant her hands on his chest but then feigned slight disgust and proceeded throw impressive hand motions in his face. She then stepped once to the right and punched down with her left hand, left knee raised and her body language radiating with an undertone of playful attitude. She then did the same move with a step to the left. Right, left, right, left, then jerked at him as if she was throwing her victory in his face.

'Unbelievable', he thought, 'she already knows how to taunt…I could've sworn this girl was shy just a minute ago.' Although he could tell that Minami was completely immersed in the defiant message behind the song, he couldn't help but briefly wonder what it was that created all of this frustration. The dance teacher shrugged off his musings before stepping onto the floor again and joining Minami as the song reached its climax.

You know how long I've been on you?

Since Prince was on Appolonia

Since OJ had Isotoners