Chapter Text
Light Yagami was a killer. A killer on the dance floor.
He’d been coming to this club, Studio Shinigami, for the past six months, and in that short time, he’d become God of the discotheque. It was pretty easy when there was no real competition. From the first time he strutted under the smoky haze and colorful lights, he’d dominated all the other patrons. There was just something about him. The second he started moving his hips side to side and swirling his arms, the rest of the crowd became enthralled.
Misa said it was his stunning good looks. Mikami blamed it on his piercing eyes. And Matsuda proclaimed he was just a “really sexy dancer” (ugh). But whatever the factor may be, Light had it. That was for sure. Weekend after weekend, he tore it up, dancing until the music fizzled away and the sun crept up behind the horizon.
When Matsuda first brought him here, it had been like peering into an unknown world. Everyone here was so free. They drank and laughed and danced without a single care for regular life that would catch up with them come Monday morning. He’d never seen so many people truly alive. And fortunately, it was contagious. Between these walls, his stresses evaporated. The pressure on him to get perfect grades didn’t exist. No one expected him to become a detective or a prosecutor, or to find a girl and get married or anything like that.
Here, he just had to dance. And as it turned out, he was pretty damn good at that.
Over the last few weeks, however, disco had been losing it for him.
Being the best, got kind of boring after a while. He could only hear Donna Summer belt out ‘Last Dance’ so many times before he was truly wishing it was.
It just wasn’t as exciting anymore. He’d danced with just about all the regulars here. He could do the electric slide in his sleep. Being at Studio Shinigami was still better than lazing around his house on Saturday nights, but just barely.
His face was blank as he bumped hips with the guy next to him and then twirled Kiyomi Takada for the second time this song. Her shimmery gold dress fanned out with the movement before he took her into his arms and swayed. He was sure it came off a bit robotic, but she didn’t complain. She was new here, just happy to dance with the legend himself. He wasn’t too impressed with her though. She was a better dancer than Misa and Matsuda, less stiff than Mikami too, but she didn’t stand out beyond that.
Still Light kept up his dancing. He couldn’t lag out here, not with everyone watching. As bored as he may get, being the best was who he was. He wouldn’t lose the title just cause he was in a slump.
Light did one last quick spin as the song came to an end, the final ‘ooh-ooh’ sounding through the speakers. He flashed Kiyomi a smile before turning away fast enough that she couldn’t trap him in another dance. His feathered hair bounced with every step of his platforms as he made his way over to the bar.
There was a Bacardi & Coke already waiting for him there. He nodded towards the bartender, a guy with frizzy hair that Matsuda had a crush on. Really, who didn’t Matuda have a crush on? That was why he could never be the best even if he did get better at dancing somehow. It was the reason his dancing was only mediocre in the first place. He didn’t have control of his heart. And if someone couldn’t control that, how the hell could they expect to control the rhythm of their hips?
Light left the bar and went to his usual table next. It was perched by the railing that overlooked the club’s dance floor. It was close enough to let him see all that went on there and let everyone out there remind that he was still here.
An ice cube nudged his lip as he swallowed down some of the spiked soda. He leaned back in his chair. Little flecks of shimmery reflection coasted across his face from the disco ball spinning above.
Beside him, Misa stared. Her eyes were wide and adoring like always. “You looked so good out there, Light,” she praised with a faint touch to his arm.
He shrugged and sat up a bit straighter.
From her other side, Mikami watched him through the slender frames of his glasses. He took a sip of his margarita and nodded. “That Takada girl and you make a good pair.”
That got Misa’s brow to furrow and her lips to puff out into a pout. A sharp huff came from her nose. Her displeasure brightened Light up. He shrugged again with more fluidity this time.
“I guess,” he said over the thumping music, “but I can make anyone look good.”
Before he could watch the both of them rush to agree with him, a hip bumped into his shoulder with nearly enough force to spill his drink all over his lap. His head whipped around, eyes narrowed and lips sneering, only to find Matsuda with that stupid sheepish smile.
“Sorry, Light,” he said. He plopped down in the last empty chair at their table. He took a big gulp of his drink before wiping the excess from his lips with the back of his hand. The current song ended and a new beat started up. Matsuda’s grin widened. “Ooh Light, after this let’s do the hustle!”
Light just rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered how he got stuck with these three. It certainly wasn’t by choice. With Matsuda, he guessed he could understand the reason. It would be rude to throw him aside when he was the one who introduced him to this place. But Misa and Mikami? They were just pests who wouldn’t let go. He’d made the mistake early on of talking with them after dancing, and they’d followed him around like they were close ever since.
He shook his head and downed some more of his coke. But it was then that his eyes caught on something unusual. The crowd out on the floor was alive, like really alive. Like he was out there. But that couldn’t be because he was sitting right here.
He put his glass down and sat up. That was when he saw him.
This guy, someone totally new, someone he’d never seen in Studio Shinigami or anywhere else around town. He looked like a ghost with skin of alabaster. The bright beams of pink and blue spiraling from the ceiling seemed to bounce right off him. He had on a pale blue shirt with the buttons open down to his sternum.
He moved like Light couldn’t believe. Better than anyone he’d ever seen unless he was looking in the mirror. His hips wagged in perfect time with the music. He bobbed his neck around in sync and clapped every so often.
“Who is that?” Light asked.
The three sets of eyes he was with zeroed on the dance floor. All were eager to be the first to provide him with an answer. But he didn’t get one. They were just as clueless to the identity of this agile stranger as him.
They all watched as this guy jumped into a quick spin before dropping to his knees in a move Light had yet to see anyone else do.
He stood from the table immediately. ‘Off the Wall’ was only halfway finished, but he didn’t care. He needed to get out there. This guy was taking his place right out from under him. He couldn’t just let it slide.
As casually as he could manage, he sidestepped and shimmied his way onto the glowing floor. People parted for him, but he tried to stay low-profile for now, just observing the guy a bit more. He hadn’t looked at Light. He was still clapping and twisting around, into the music as ever.
Who is this guy? Light thought while grinding his teeth. How had he never seen him before? Even if he hadn’t seen him dance, he’d still expect to have seen him around the club somewhere. But that couldn’t be true because he would have remembered that ghastly face behind the curtains of unkempt hair.
When the next song started up, he took his shot. He started rolling his arms faster and pumping his hips to the rhythm of ’Shake Your Body’ as he trotted forward to the center.
Finally, when the crowd had basically formed an oval around the two of them, the guy looked up. And he smiled. He fucking smiled at Light! His eyes widened, but he tried to not look as off-kilter as he felt.
They kept eye contact as they danced. Light was conscious of every single move he made. He kept his fingers in tight points as his arms popped up and down and criss-crossed. Every little jerk of his hips was meticulous. Sweat beaded at his brow as he worked his body to the beat.
Meanwhile, this other guy looked effortless. His expression was still careless. His limbs were totally fluid as he spun around. It looked like he thought of everything on the spot, but no matter what it looked good.
The people around them moved together and with the sounds above. They cheered and clapped. Their eyes went back and forth between the two men at the center facing off. But Light swore he could feel their attention on him waning.
Like himself, everyone was curious about this newcomer. Everyone wanted to know who he was. Everyone wanted to see him dance some more.
In a desperate attempt to keep himself in the game, his fingers flew to the buttons on his vest. They made quick work of them. Once the garment was loose, he flung each side back to reveal the pristine white of his shirt. He shrugged it down one arm and then the other before throwing it off in the general direction of his table. He knew one of his three groupies would come down and fetch it for him.
Free in only his dress shirt now, he tried to loosen up his movements. The other guy began circling, so he followed suit. They rotated on the dance floor.
Light’s heart beat hard in his chest. He hadn’t felt this thrill in months. The music didn’t sound like the same old songs any more. Each note was a living thing. Every sound was something for him to respond to, to grab onto and make his own.
He whirled around in a quick spin before making his way closer to this other guy. The man went along with it and shuffled towards Light.
They met in the middle. Only inches away, he could hear his ragged breaths and see the faint glow of sweat on his neck. At least he knew he was actually human.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” Light said, as nonchalant as one could be while speaking over blaring music.
“I could say the same about you,” the other guy said. “Though I have heard of you.”
Another spin. Light tried not to look down where those hips were gyrating very close to his own.
“Oh really?” he called over the music.
“Yeah. Light Yagami, right?” he asked knowingly.
Damn it. “Yeah,” Light nodded.
“You’re pretty good,” he said.
What an asshole, Light thought. “You too,” he said.
The man chuckled. Light felt the urge to clench his fists, but he stopped himself. Clenched fists had no place on the dance floor.
In the midst of this confrontation, Light lost track of the song’s timing. It came to an end, and this guy spun around into a perfect finish. Light just stood there, still rocking back and forth like an amateur.
Claps echoed around the two of them. His face burned. To make matters worse, the guy flashed him the same smile he knew so well.
“Well thanks for the dance, Light,” he said, patting him on the shoulder as he went to walk past.
Before Light even knew what he was doing, he grabbed the guy’s wrist and turned to face him.
“Wait- I didn’t catch your name,” he said.
The guy gave him a look of appraisal, something laced with amusement.
“Hmm, I suppose you didn’t,” he said. “I’m Ryuzaki.”
Their fingertips brushed as he slid his hand free and continued off the dance floor, away into the droves of people. Light stood there, hips and arms motionless among the sea of moving people.
This wouldn’t be the last time they met. This guy- this Ryuzaki would not think he had him beat. He would make sure of that.