Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ Echoing truth ❯ - nine - ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

The door of the apartment closed with a dull thud behind Shindo. Akira stood rigidly in the middle of a pathetic little room, surrounded by various furniture pieces and every-day junk – all in one place, as the apartment didn’t have any more rooms. Shindo stood behind him, and the knowledge of his presence behind his back made him shiver - or was it the wetness which slowly seeped into his clothes from the rain outside? The window was closed and the air smelled days old, a bit musty; Akira realized that Shindo wasn’t spending much time at home.

“Sorry, I’m just going to tidy up a bit,” Shindo lifted his hand behind his head, embarrassedly; Akira thought that he had grown out of this childish gesture by now. “Just a minute; in the meantime you can sit on the chair.”

Shindo proceeded to pick up empty bags of crackers and cans of soda while Akira perched down onto the single chair standing next to the table, observing the other man. Now, that he was here and had finally met Shindo, he didn’t know what he should say to him. This meeting wasn’t happening according to the choreography Akira had created in his mind. Now he would have to offer some explanation. He thought to apologize in the Go Institute, or at some other public place, where Shindo could have run out on him instead of staying and demanding a reason and listening to whatever Akira managed to dig up as an explanation for it.

Shindo was now picking up the laundry that was littered around on the carpet. It turned out that there was another door which led to the bathroom hidden by a curtain, which Akira didn’t notice until Shindo swung the drapery away to reveal the opening behind it. Now he would possibly be forced to explain about Ogata-san or his dreams, Akira thought while he was waiting for Shindo to re-emerge from behind the curtain. It was a mistake to think about it now, while he was alone with Shindo at his place, Akira realized. Immediately his mind was filled with pictures about the Jû-dan, which refused to go away while he did have nothing to do except thinking and waiting for his host. Akira felt dread slowly creeping down his back, and for a minute he imagined a laughing Ogata-san popping out from behind the curtain, starting to talk to him as if it wasn’t years past that time. Funny, how he had been able to overcome his aversions against Ogata-san – even if the two of them weren’t so close anymore these days – but they would reemerge when facing Shindo.

No, Shindo was nothing like Ogata-san. His mind told him so, and Akira wanted to believe it. But on the other side, it was also his mind that gave him those dreams. The dreams confused Ogata-san with Shindo, so who was to say that there couldn’t be confusion in real life too? For all he saw about Shindo’s ‘other life’ he could be the same. Akira shook his head reproachfully. He knew Shindo - or at least, he had known him - quite well. Shindo wasn’t that sort who would pester people with indecent propositions just because he liked them. If he was, Akira wouldn’t be here now, waiting for him to be able to apologize at last. Where was he anyhow?

Akira heard a rumble coming from the bathroom, and thought that this wasn’t the best time for Shindo to start the cleaning. The other man was probably just as nervous, suddenly finding himself in his apartment alone with him, as Akira was. He was tempted for a moment to go into the bathroom to check on Shindo, but at the thought of the white tiled wall the dream flashed back into his consciousness once more – the dream from one week ago, with Shindo pressing him against the nameless place’s toilet wall – instead of Ogata-san. So Akira stayed on his chair and tried to wipe his suddenly sweaty palms on his rain water-damp trousers, while at the same desperately trying time to wipe out of his head the recurring image of Shindo kissing him.

Shindo wouldn’t do that, or would he? Akira’s mind suddenly leaped to the night in the bar when he had had to drive a sloshed Shindo home along Akari. That night Shindo had attacked Waya. But he was drunk; he hadn’t known what he was doing, Akira’s mind rationalized, even as his breath quickened and he felt rivulets of cold sweat trickling down his back under his shirt.

Akira tried to calm down himself again, and in that moment he heard the door open and Shindo came back through the curtain. Strangely, his presence affected Akira in a reassuring way instead of further fuelling his anxiousness. Somehow having him there in the flesh had chased Akira’s ghosts away.

Shindo was smiling; he was oblivious to the little drama that had occurred in Akira’s head just moments ago.

“So?”

“So?” Akira repeated Shindo’s question a bit confused.

“Well, I got the impression that you wanted to talk,” Shindo was still smiling. But that smile, while awfully familiar, seemed somehow off now. Akira could feel the other man’s anxiety behind it. He slowly nodded and stood up from the chair to get onto one level with Shindo, who just stood there in the middle of the still quite messy room, unmoving.

“I did,” he confirmed and paused for a moment, thinking about the best way to start. Then he decided to just say the words and he could answer the questions Shindo would undoubtedly have later. “I wanted to apologize for last time. I had a rough day, and… I wasn’t handling things the way I should have…”

Akira’s voice drifted off and he stopped speaking. Shindo still looked at him with the same expression, and he didn’t know what else he could offer to him. They just stared at each other for several seconds before Shindo finally reacted to what he had heard by looking away to gaze at one corner of the stuffed little room and nodding absently.

“Don’t worry about it. I– I know why that happened.” His voice was low and gloomy, just like the weather outside, but he didn’t sound at all as if he was blaming Akira for anything. In fact, it sounded more like he was already resigned to this being the way for things to go between them. Akira scowled at him and took a step forward. The room was so small, that it brought him only one more step away from Shindo.

Shindo looked up now with another false smile on his lips. He was trying to console Akira - as if he was the injured party here - and placed a hand on his shoulder. And again, Akira couldn’t stop his reaction before he flinched away, even though he had told himself repeatedly that he wouldn’t do that anymore. But Shindo didn’t seem to mind this time; in fact, he looked content with his reaction, even if a bit sad. Akira realized then that Shindo had done it on purpose.

“See, I get this often,” the blond man said almost casually, while retracting his hand and turning away from Akira. He didn’t look at him; instead he was staring again at that same point in the air he had been earlier. “… From all kind of people, even from some who don’t know that about me. I understand, really. It’s okay.”

Shindo turned towards the small kitchenette in the far corner of the room and switched the topic. “Do you some want tea? You must be cold from the rain.”

Akira said yes, and thanked him. There was silence. While Shindo had his back turned to him, boiling the water and pulling out teabags Akira had time to digest what he had been told just minutes ago, and the tone in which he had been told. It wasn’t much of an effort to guess that Shindo wasn’t blaming Akira, because he blamed himself instead. It sounded like a mantra he was repeating to himself – not really speaking to Akira, not even looking at him, instead staring at something only he was able to see.

Shindo was acting as if he didn’t care, he was smiling that awful bright smile of his Akira had been familiar with since he had first seen him winning a game. But in reality Shindo was not that confident. Akira could hear the rattling of china as he tried to move them with trembling hands. It reminded Akira of the last night at the hotel. Shindo had been making tea at the time, too. This gave both of them a chance to compose themselves, but it also gave Akira the opportunity to observe the blond man while trying to figure him out. He wasn’t able to wrap his mind around him just yet, but Shindo’s reaction showed that this apology of his hadn’t gone into the right direction. Akira still felt as if he owned him something.

Akira was so in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that Shindo was already done preparing the tea. He had brought the cups on a platter and instead of giving one of them to Akira; he had put it down next to him onto the table, carefully avoiding any contact. Akira only noticed the rattling of china when his tea got served. He thanked Shindo and took a few sips of it – never had anything felt better than the hot beverage at that moment.

Akira slowly looked up at Shindo, who was standing leaning against the table, since the only chair was occupied by Akira, and he seemed uncomfortable to sit on his bed. Akira observed the other while they were drinking their tea – neither of them pulling the rim of the cup far enough to be expected to say something. He wanted to tell Shindo that it still wasn’t right and he shouldn’t have forgiven him so easily. It surprised him that he actually wanted Shindo to be angry with him, he didn’t want forgiveness that he hadn’t atoned for. It made him just feel guiltier that he wasn’t able to see behind the public face of a person whom he wanted to become friends with. And he didn’t want Shindo to treat him just like another stranger. He wanted Shindo to expect Akira to support him and be comfortable with every aspect of him – just like a real friend would. He wanted to tell Shindo that, but he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t look too presumptuous if he just did that. He didn’t think Shindo had considered their acquaintance close enough for allowing those things to be said out openly. Thus he didn’t say anything; instead he opted for Shindo to start the conversation.

The blond man apparently didn’t feel comfortable with the silence lasting for so long. He finally put down his teacup and half-turned towards Akira, looking at him with a guarded expression.

“Do you want me to call a taxi?”

Akira shook his head and almost answered that his car was parked just a few corners further. After hearing the last word, though, he remembered the last time Shindo and a taxi were involved, and how he had “handled” that situation. He was tired with his own mistakes and he was tired with the game of hide and seek the situation had forced him to play. So at the last moment he changed his mind and instead asked what he had contemplated for the best part of his stay there.

“Are you really contended with me acting like a jerk? Why do you forgive me so easily?”

Shindo was caught off guard by those words and his friendly mask slipped minutely. Akira put down his tea, stood up and took the last step separating him from the other player. Shindo just stared at him while Akira gently freed his cup from the grip of his fingers and put it down next to his. The sound that left his throat was halfway between a whimper and a protest, but he didn’t try to wrench away his hand when Akira slowly took it into his own, showing that he was well able to control himself – and shook it. He knew that Shindo could feel his arm trembling and the slight clamminess of his fingers, but he held on. This was as much a demonstration for Shindo that Akira could and would be able to overcome his fears, as much a test for himself. His instincts started to calm down after a while, and stopped screaming at him to free his trapped hand and flee as far and as fast as possible. The urge didn’t stop altogether; his subconscious still considered Shindo a danger, but now he was able to handle it.

There was a few seconds nervous silence, and then Akira took a deep breath and risked a half-smile, while his eyes still hadn’t broken contact with Shindo’s murky green ones.

“I don’t need you to be considerate of me. I don’t want to belong to the people who you don’t even want to be bothered with, and therefore don’t care what they think of you. I want to be someone you can trust and can confide in. I want to be there for you, because I want you to be there for me.”

Akira observed the effect his words had on the other pro. He took in the incredulous look and the little crease which was slowly forming on the other man’s forehead.

“Why?” Shindo asked finally.

“I want you to be my friend.”

Shindo suddenly appeared shaken, but he didn’t refuse his offer nor the short embrace that followed the silent approval – which Akira deemed appropriate for the beginning of their new ‘friends’-status.

After that they pulled away from each other, pretending that they didn’t notice the sharpness of the movements with which Akira let go of Shindo’s hand. Shindo made another cup of tea for both of them and they started on an easy conversation without the mention of any of the topics. Shindo seemed still a bit distant and not fully there, but Akira thought nothing of it. He attributed it to the fact that he was still just familiarizing himself with the new situation, just like Akira.

He went home with a contented gleam in his eyes and a half-smirk twitching the corners of his mouth after the rain had finally given over.

TBC