Chapter Text
Burlesque: Gold
Chapter One
Daichi picked up his newly dry cleaned suits, and he drove down Main Avenue towards his dance studio. The weather was grey and silent, an eerie stillness settling over the entire city. The people walking through the thick fog on the streets glanced up nervously to the sky every now and then.
The tall brick building of his dance studio was hard to miss, standing smack dab in the center of Fifth Avenue, located directly in between a famous bakery and flower shop. His rolled down window caught the scent of fresh baked lemon meringue pie, cooling in their pans.
He pulled into a vacant parking lot, reserved for “Mister Sawamura”, and stepped out, cradling his coffee, binders, and trunk full of props. Wobbling, he managed to slam his car door shut. It was a luxury car, one he would have never even dreamed of five years ago.
The young florist girl, the daughter of the owner, smiled and called out a merry, “Good morning, Mr. Sawamura!”
He returned the gesture and struggled to get his keys to lock his car. A larger hand came from behind him to help. A tall man with long hair tied back, soft eyes, and a slight stubble, Asahi.
“’morning, Captain,” he grinned at Daichi, using the old high school title. Daichi smiled back, blushing slightly at the nickname he had received in his senior year of his high school volleyball club.
“Good morning to you, too, Mr. Goatee,” he responded, dragging his belongings into the building, and stepped into an elevator, trying to avoid the crowds of people.
They went up to the 37th floor, and through a pair of mahogany double doors labled with “Mr. D. Sawamura”.
The main entrance led to a wide lobby with marble floors and potted peonies. A door to the left led to Daichi’s office, the corresponding side held Asahi’s. The changing room was just beyond the lobby, directly across the main doors. Setting down his things, Daichi unlocked the doors to the dance room, located between the male and female changing rooms. He pushed open the heavy curtains to allow unfiltered sunlight to stream through the large windows behind them. Upon pushing the windows open, the smell of vanilla filled the room. The windows brought in fresh wind mixed with the many scents of New York City.
His students were from various places, all of diverse race, gender, and age. Most of them were well known dancers or performers, requesting additional training outside of their professional instructors. A number of them were dancers at famous bars and clubs all throughout New York.
Whatever the case, Daichi’s lessons were always open to those who were willing to put some effort into it.
He glanced at his watch. 10:22.
They would be arriving soon.
He rushed on checking the stereo, and making sure his morning students had their music ready. Love Yourself? Check. Stressed Out? Check. The Beatles? Check. Stitches? Check.
The handles on the mirrors for stretching were all intact, emergency exits open, lights ready. Ten minutes later, the first of the dancers were coming in.
As always, it was those two, Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio. Hinata, the flaming ball of energy, was training dancer - to- be for a ballet show that was coming up on Broadway. His form was small and diminutive, but damn, could he leap. Kageyama, meanwhile, was a highly regarded genius in the art of street dancing. Yes, Daichi taught street dancing.
Kageyama had once been known as the “King of the Streets” by his fellow dancers in Los Angeles, who were nowhere near his level of skill. Apparently, he had been an insufferable leader, pushing his dance team past the limit during an international contest to which they lost in. Because they no longer wanted to have anything to do with him, he decided to up and leave, his destination, the Big Apple. There, he had met the tiny ballerino and they’ve been inseparable since. “Inseparable” didn’t necessarily mean “loving” or “friendly”, instead, it seemed to mean “hostile” and “competitive”. Like now.
“No! I told you, not like that! You have to fling your head up when you do the arabesque!” the taller male was practically yelling as they headed towards the changing rooms. They both stopped and called hello’s to Asahi and Daichi before Hinata retorted back.
“Well, what do you know about my routine? I’m the one who specializes in ballet, not you, Bakageyama!” their argument could be heard in the main room that was how loud they were.
“Hey! I happen to study all areas of dance, you dumbass!” came the frustrated yell.
Hinata yelled something back, but it was drowned out by the two other newcomers.
“Moring, Mr. Daichi! Hey, Mr. Asahi!” Yamaguchi’s higher voice came. Tsukishima muttered a few exchanges as well, pulling off his head phones.
Now, these two were something. Yamaguchi Tadashi had once been a bully target in his elementary years, and Tsukishima had known him for forever. They had both determinedly joined their high school dance club and had been spotted by college scouts. Tsukishima decided to go for medicine in the NYU, while Yamaguchi had been invited to Broadway by a renown dance director. Tsukishima, however, still accompanied him to Daichi’s dance studio, and even organized his study schedule to the afternoons. No one would have guessed that the awkward youth would grow to become, now, one of the most desirable men in the U.S. ; even the brilliant “Tsukii” falling head over heels for him. Daichi hoped they’d recognize their feelings soon; much like his dream for the first pair of dorks.
Daichi smiled and waved. “Hurry and change! There’s plenty to work on today!”
He heard Yamaguchi’s laugh, “We got it, sir! You tell us every day!”
The next two hours were filled with trying to get Hinata to not hurt himself coming down from a leap, Kageyama’s back to straighten up more, Yamaguchi to not forget to do a point his toes for the adagio, and many concerns for the other dancers.
When their morning lessons ended, each dancer hurried off to the rest of their day of performing and what not. Daichi slipped into his jacket and planned to head out to his lunch break. Asahi was leaning against a wall, taking a last swig of water. He was probably headed to see his fiancé, a small bartender at a big club.
“Daichi!” It was Hinata, hurrying over in a large jacket, no doubly Kageyama’s. Aww, isn’t that adorable.
“What’s up, Hinata?” he asked , giving him his undivided attention.
“Um… I was meaning to tell you sooner… but, um…” he began, wringing his hands. “I got into the main dance role.”
Daichi’s eyes lit up. “Congratulations! That’s really great! I told you your hard work would pay off.”
Hinata had been obsessively trying to get into the position, even coming to train additionally with Daichi. However, Daichi could practically hear the “but” in his sentence.
Hinata looked up at him with a “Please don’t be mad” expression. “When they asked me to tell them my secret to success, I told them it was the ‘Sawamura Dance Studio’….”
He heard Asahi’s cry of surprise as he choked on his drink, before the tall man stumbled over.
His eyes were wide and filled with… excitement? “That’s good, though, Hinata! Don’t be scared! I think you just made us famous!”
He was right, if a Broadway dancer promoted a studio, the studio would most likely become quite known.
They were looking over to him. A wide smile spread across his lips, “That settles it! We have to organize a celebration in your sake!”
Hinata blushed and mumbled something about lunch.
Asahi laughed and walked them to the door. “I’ll lock up and join you guys for lunch.”
XXX
They sat at a small café, quiet enough so fans of Kageyama or Hinata would follow. The two dancers were talking- arguing- about quinoa being in salads or cereal. Daichi and Asahi chatted about improving some of their warm up exercises.
Because Hinata and Kageyama were dancers who needed to be fit, they both munched on some healthy greens. Daichi had ordered a BLT, and he had to admit, it was pretty relaxing to eat at a small homey restaurant again than at a luxury place he always had to go to nowadays. Then again, a lot has changed in five years.
Daichi had been born in a small provenance in Japan, Miyagi. His family was traditional and caring, urging him to do what he thought right. That meant joining the volleyball team, not going to prom, and leaving his hometown. After high school, he had been accepted into Berkeley in California, and he took no time to pack his bags and go. His family supported his choice, allowing him to pursue his dreams.
He had originally wanted to major in something law related, but had met a boy in the university who showed him dance for the first time. He had transferred to major in the arts, learning the many types of dance. Eventually, he graduated and was called to New York by a friend at age 21. There, he met the owners of the very studio he owns today.
They were an old couple, famous through Broadway, and they needed a heir of their building. They had received Daichi’s name from a friend he worked with in college at a dance class.
Now, he was here, from a small country boy to a wealthy dance teacher and choreographer.
He was aware of Kageyama smacking Hinata on the backside of his head and blushing profusely. Asahi chuckled somewhere in the background.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated. The three quieted down respectively.
“Hello? Sawamura Daichi speaking,” he cautiously answered when the phone number was unknown.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Sawamura? My name is Nina; I am calling with the courtesy of the Manhattan Broadway Dance Center. I wanted to inform you and your partner, Mr. Asahi, of some very good news,” the caller responded, talking much too fast of Daichi to comprehend. He opened the speaker. “Your dance studio is now rated as the number one studio in New York, and we would like to arrange a time to meet with you. Our head CEOs’ have decided to promote the two of you as the head choreographers here.”
Hinata, Kageyama, and Asahi looked at him with huge eyes. They nodded as he searched for words to answer.
“Mr. Sawamura?”
He shook himself out of the daze. “Sorry, I’m just…. I … wow. I really can’t believe this is happening to us.”
She chuckle and said, “It is quite a big deal, so congratulations! But we still need to arrange a time!”
“Sure, when are the CEOs’ available?”
“How about two weeks from tomorrow? I could send you the address tonight,” she asked.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Alright, have a wonderful day then, Mr. Sawamura, we look forward to seeing you two.”
“Goodbye.”
He hanged up and looked at his friends. Hinata was the first to respond.
“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! I’m SO happy for you, Daichi!”
Kageyama nodded furiously. “We need to celebrate!”
Daichi blinked. “I thought we were going to celebrate for Hinata?”
Hinata brushed him off. “No way! This is so much more important!”
Asahi’s smile was wide, he was practically glowing. “I’m sending Noya a call. There’s a famous dancer going to his club tonight, we are SO going to celebrate!”
XXX
Afternoon lessons were ending, and Daichi glanced at the time once more. 5:49.
He picked himself off the floor from where he had been instructing a couple of dancers to stretch. He gave a small tug of his shoulder, rubbing circles into his over worked muscles.
“Alright, class is dismissed! Tomorrow, we’ll work on tightening legs for allegros. Go home, get some rest, or, of those of you who are performing later, good luck. Akira, we’ll work more on the spins, too, tomorrow,” he said, watching as they all said farewells and hurried to their rooms.
Daichi huffed out a sigh, turning around to close the windows. He noticed the heavy rain outside.
He had let Asahi take the last session off to set up a “party” at the bar of his boyfriend. The owners, Bokoto and Akaashi, knew Daichi quite well; many of his dancers were performers there. They had been surprised about his promotion, but had quickly decided on a celebratory party in his favor. The dancer visiting the club tonight was supposedly very talented, so it was another plus.
The dancers had mostly departed by now, and Daichi drew close the curtains. Out of nowhere, there came the soft sound of someone clearing their throat. Daichi turned around.
He came face to face with the most angelic person he’d ever laid his eyes on. He had glistening silver-grey hair, tender brown eyes, pale skin—and holy shit! --- That’s a beauty mark. The man had a beauty mark just below his left eye. Oh gods, and those legs, dancer’s legs. He was leaning against the doorway, watching as Daichi drooled onto the ground. His smile was a bit lop sided, teasing and gentle at the same time. There was a pink tinge to his cheeks, probably from the cold, and his coat was slick with rain.
Daichi had to clear his own throat at least twice before he could trust his voice.
“H- how may I help you this evening, sir?” he asked, cursing inside as his voice came out a tad too high.
Mr. Beauty Mark smiled wider. He to a few steps forward, with as much grace and fluidity as a runway model. When he was directly in front of Daichi, he replied in a soft voice.
“Mr. Sawamura Daichi? I’m looking for a private trainer for bar dancing. I was wondering if you did that type of work?” he looked up at Daichi with long dusty eyelashes. Up close, Daichi could see patches of light freckles scattered over his nose and cheeks.
“I do have sessions for private training,” Daichi responded. “Have you had a trainer before?”
“I haven’t, actually.” His voice was teasing, and Daichi noticed how melodic it was, like he sung for a living rather than danced. “I feel like I’ll be needing one, now that I’ve moved here.”
“Oh? What made you decide to move?”
The smaller male’s smile faltered, only ever so slightly before it returned to its glory.
“I … received a better job offer here,” he said. Daichi had returned to checking everything once more, glancing at him every once in a while. The man was strolling around the room and looking around at everything. His eyes rested on a painting, done by Daichi, of a ballerina in a tutu made of roses.
“I see. Do you wish to begin lessons tomorrow or…?” He turned back to Daichi.
“Essentially, yes, because I have a performance tonight that I need to prepare for,” he answered.
“Well, in that case, maybe you can show me what level you’re on so I can see how I can help you out?” Daichi stood up and walked closer to him.
The male’s smile turned, once again, sly. “What level I’m on, hmm?”
Daichi’s face flushed, as he stuttered to find a response to that. How could this guy be so good looking and sharp as well?
He let out a sweet laugh and Daichi’s heart did a pitter- patter. “Relax, I’m just joking with you, Sawamura!”
He then set down his duffel bag and took off his leather coat. He was wearing tight jeans, a teal sweater, and cashmere gloves. He gave his arms a small stretch. Daichi raised his eyebrows. Well, that just went from zero to a hundred real quick.
“Would you like some music with that?” he asked as the male stretched out his calves.
“Do you have anything by Christina Aguilera?” came a call as he strode over to the stereo.
Aguilera? That’s a first.
“I do, which song?”
“Bound to you.”
Daichi scrolled through his music and let his thumb hover over the album.
“Ready?”
The man nodded, stepping into the center of the room.
Daichi hit play.
Sweet love, sweet love,
trapped in your love.
He swayed on his step before he did a double spin, landing perfectly on his feet, rocking his body to the beat.
I've opened up, unsure I can trust
My heart and I were buried in dust
Free me, free us
Daichi watched on awe as he danced fluidly, his movements dramatic, but not exaggerated too far. His dance was half ballet, half expressionism and lyrical.
You're all I need when I'm holding you tight
If you walk away I will suffer tonight
He let himself fall to the floor, imitating loss and grief, his expression pained. His form was perfect, talent overpowering.
Daichi’s heart was on the verge of exploding. Fuck.
XXX
“So?” The man was panting softly, adjusting his sweater, taking small sips of his lemon infused water. “How was it?”
Daichi looked up.
“Where… where did you learn to dance like that?” He asked, still staring in wonder.
That smile appeared again.
“I taught myself,” came the reply matter-of-factly.
Daichi blinked, slightly a taken back. “And you just went on to performing?”
Brown eyes flashed like he was daring Daichi to ask any more questions, “Yes.”
“Well, I think you are very talented,” Daichi finally answered. “So, do you want to leave an email for me to email you the applications, or, do you want to fill them out now?”
“I’ll leave you an email… um… here,” he walked to Daichi to hand him a card where he scribbled his email.
“Okay, so, whenever you fill out the forms, just come by to drop them off and we can arrange times then,” Daichi extended his hand. The shorter man took it, looking up at him considerately.
“Then, I’ll see you sometime, Sawamura Daichi,” his voice was almost a whisper.
“Daichi, just call me Daichi.” Why did he say that? He didn’t know, but all that mattered was the male’s hand lingering on his chest.
“Daichi, I’ll see you around, maybe,” he took his bags and shrugged on his coat. He began walking to the doors.
Daichi felt like he was missing something.
“Wait!”
The man paused and turned. “Yes?”
“I don’t think I caught your name.”
This time, the grin revealed shiny white teeth. “Just call me Koushi.”