Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ Riding the Wave ❯ Possession, Territory, Counting ( Chapter 8 )

Riding the Wave

Possession, Territory, Counting

 

Akira was stunned when the door finally opened. He was completely and utterly floored as he looked across the hotel room and into Hikaru's bright eyes, and saw the figure standing just behind him. Waya.

 

Why now?

 

What now?

 

The little girl practically hiding behind him didn't help any.

 

It was a tense moment, but not a word was said. Waya simply left, barely glancing at Akira and Saya as he did so. Hikaru was watching him leave, looking like he wanted to say something, but something held him back. Instead he slumped back into a chair as the door slid shut, staring down at the table top next to him, frowning.

 

Akira sighed. "Go ahead and change, Saya. I'll be here when you get back out, and then we can go to supper."

 

She nodded, looking over at Hikaru worriedly, but she grabbed some more comfortable clothes and hurried into the bathroom.

 

Saya wasn't gone a moment when Akira glared at Hikaru. "You left her. You left her so you could go wander off with him."

 

Hikaru looked away, turning to look out the window. "I left her in good hands. It's not like I just abandoned--"

 

"That's not the point!" Akira said, pounding his fist into the table for emphasis. "You left her with Ochi! He doesn't know the first thing about taking care of children--"

 

"Oh, and either of us do?"

 

"She's our responsibility and--"

 

"No! She's your responsibility, Touya! So asking Ochi to watch her is no different from asking me."

 

Akira flinched. There was a world of difference, or so he'd thought. Starting with trust. But, if Hikaru--no, if Shindou was going to be like this, maybe.... "You're right. Feel free to enjoy your lack of responsibility from now on. I won't ask you a thing."

 

Shindou rubbed his arms, as if the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped. "I didn't mean it like that," he started to say sullenly.

 

"You left her," Akira said slowly, eyes narrowed to slits, "with someone she doesn't even know, just so you could have some alone time with your lover."

 

"Ex," Shindou corrected with a scowl.

 

"Oh really? It wouldn't be the first time the two of you hid something like that from everybody else."

 

Shindou stood, walking up to Akira, and shoved him backward. "What the fuck do you care anyway? All I am is a damned game to you. Go play with someone else."

 

Before Akira could even react, Shindou was gone. He stared at the door, feeling utterly drained. Even when he heard Saya enter the main room again, he still stared until she walked over and wrapped her arms around his chest in a tight hug. It took him by complete surprise, and for a moment he continued to stare, though this time it was downward at the top of her head. He wasn't used to being hugged. He wasn't used to being touched at all, really. Not since he'd been little, and his parents found it cute to still be able to pick him up and play with him. Once he'd gotten into school outward displays of affection had slowly grown more and more rare, and fear of embarrassment had prompted him to feel grateful for this after a while.

 

When did I become so cold? When did I become so distant and unloved?

 

He finally returned Saya's hug, closing his eyes and trying to offer as much comfort as he was receiving. They stayed like that for a time, until they both felt a little more stable.

 

"I'm sorry, Sensei. I didn't mean to be a bother."

 

"You're not," he assured her with a gentle smile. "You're the best student I have ever had, and I'm happy to be taking care of you. Now, are you ready to go? I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

 

Saya pulled away, smiling a little too brightly. "That's because you skipped lunch, Sensei."

 

"I never eat lunch," he said, shaking his head slightly.

 

"I noticed," she said, sticking her tongue out. "Come on, Sensei. You'll feel better once you eat."

 

In the end, he could not argue with her about that. They left to go eat, and Akira drifted in thought, worry, and regret. He hadn't meant to say those things. He hadn't meant to drive Hikaru away. He was just so upset at the thought that he might be back with Waya, that they might resolve their differences, that he hadn't been able to think.

 

I should be happy for him, if he's happy. So, why am I so upset? He picked at his food despite his hunger until Saya chided him for it.

 

His mind went in circles while they ate in silence. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed that Saya had finally broken the silence, plate pushed aside for some time. "I'm sorry," he said. "Could you say that again?"

 

"Don't worry. He'll be back."

 

"Who?"

 

"Shindou-sensei. He'll be back."

 

Akira raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that's what has me so distracted?"

 

Saya smiled, and her eyes looked uncannily wise for her age as she looked directly at him. "Sensei, I'm ten, not two. And I'm a girl. Girls just know."

 

He started to laugh, knowing that girls always did have a tendency to just know things like that. "Well then--" He paused, breaking off before he could go on. "Ten? Since when?"

 

"A few days ago," she said, squirming and averting her eyes. She picked up her empty water glass and looked into it, then set it back down, obviously just wanting an excuse not to have to look at him.

 

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Happy Birthday."

 

"It's okay, Sensei. Going out last weekend made it a better birthday than I thought I'd have, and this has been really fun as well. I didn't need anyone telling me to have a happy birthday for it to be happy."

 

"You're very wise for your age," Akira said, finally setting his own plate aside. "Did you know that?"

 

"My mom used to say that all the time. Then I'd do something silly and she'd take it back."

 

"I hope she was laughing when she took it back."

 

"Always!" Saya said brightly. "I did it on purpose, so she wouldn't be so serious all the time. And it worked."

 

Akira smiled in return, feeling his spirits lifted a bit by her enthusiasm. By the time they returned to the hotel room, he was even laughing along with her and had set aside everything else from the day. Something about her made it easy to let go of everyday tension and worry, when she started laughing and smiling.

 

For that reason, he was surprised to see Shindou when they returned to the room. The laughter died on both of their lips, and there was silence as they walked in and shut the door behind them.

 

"I'm sorry," Shindou said softly from where he was sitting. "Can we just pretend that today didn't happen?"

 

Saya didn't hesitate at all. She ran over to give him a hug.

 

Akira watched for a minute, thinking as he watched them. It was the same sort of hug that Saya had given him earlier, but Shindou was more than happy to return it. He was always so expressive, and Akira couldn't suppress the twinge of envy for that.

 

Instead of dwelling on it, Akira took off his jacket and draped it carefully over the other chair. "I can't pretend it didn't happen," he said in a low voice. "I wouldn't mind moving past it, though."

 

"It's okay," Saya chimed in with a grin. "I'll pretend enough for both of us!"

 

They all laughed at that, which was obviously what Saya had intended. Akira sat down slowly and looked at Shindou closely, seeing more pain and weariness than he cared to see, and knowing that in the end he'd have to forgive Shindou for the day despite himself. "We should at least talk, though," Akira said, offering up his last resistance to simply letting go.

 

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Saya began ushering them out of the room, saying that she thought it was such a good idea that she'd read herself a story and put herself to bed if they would just get this silly arguing thing out of the way once and for all. They were rushed out so fast that Akira nearly forgot his jacket, and was left with it newly draped over his arm as the door slid shut behind them.

 

"I think she wants us to talk this out," Shindou said with an amused grin, shaking his head ruefully.

 

"What was your first hint?" Akira replied dryly. "We should go somewhere a little more private. There's a bar downstairs."

 

"I don't really feel like drinking," Shindou said. "Why don't we go see if we can get up on the roof or somewhere that's actually private?"

 

"That sounds fine," he said.

 

They took the elevator to the top floor and found stairs leading to the roof, surprised to find a rather nice garden terrace up there. They looked around in relative silence, exchanging glances to veto various spots, until they finally agreed upon a very secluded bench. The night air was cool, but it didn't stop the scent of flowers blossoming around them. They sat down, looking at everything around each other before finally looking at the ground before them.

 

"Trying to decide if you want to yell at me or not?" Shindou asked.

 

"No," Akira lied.

 

"Good. I don't think I could take it right now." Shindou slumped forward to lean his elbows on his knees.

 

"What happened?"

 

"He came here just to tell me I was an idiot for marrying Akari."

 

Akira looked at him with a bit of a frown. "That's it?"

 

"That's not all he really said, but that's basically it. I don't know where he gets off judging me, when he did the same thing already. And then he said it wasn't the same at all, because he wasn't already in love with someone else when he got married, which is a low blow even for him! Then he started in on calling me crazy again, and I'm just too tired to fight him about it anymore, and I don't want to be sent to anyone about believing in Sai because if the cure is to believe he never existed I'd rather die!"

 

Akira backed away, shocked at the sudden emotional display. "I'm sure he didn't mean--"

 

"It's exactly what he meant. In fact, it's what he said. See?" He fished a business card out of his shirt pocket. "A psychologist. About my 'delusions'. I asked him what he'd do if I suddenly couldn't play go, if I was 'cured' of my belief that Sai was real. He tried to take the card back, and told me to stop acting like a child." Hikaru slumped even further forward, clearly defeated. "He said he'd tell Akari about it...about everything. I don't care about him telling her about anything else, but I don't want him to tell her about Sai. It's not her place to know. She doesn't have the right. She doesn't have any business knowing about him."

 

"But, you're marrying her. Doesn't that make it her business?"

 

Hikaru just shook his head, and Akira took a moment to think about how when he was angry or upset the other man was "Shindou" but at times like these he was "Hikaru". He probably shouldn't be so casual, even in just his thoughts, but he'd been doing this for months now. He wasn't sure when he'd started, exactly. It had just felt right.

 

Akira finally sighed and kicked Hikaru's foot lightly, trying to be playful and afraid he'd fail at it. "So, you're really not in love with her?"

 

Hikaru shook his head again, expression completely hidden by hair hanging in his face. "She suggested the wedding to help me, and when the attention dies down we'll get a quiet divorce just like a normal couple."

 

"That's not normal!" Akira said, startled. He thought of his parents, together and in love all his life. It made the thought of divorce alien to him, especially when Hikaru said it so flippantly.

 

"Sure it is. Have you seen divorce rates lately? It happens all the time."

 

"It doesn't make it right," Akira protested. "Marriage is supposed to be about love and spending the rest of your life together and being a family!"

 

Hikaru looked up and grinned. "You're so cute when you act old fashioned." This was followed by something completely unexpected. Hikaru reached over and messed up Akira's hair, as if he were talking to Saya instead of another adult.

 

"Don't do that," Akira protested, pulling away. His heart was pounding from the casual contact, and he was half afraid he'd be found out and Hikaru would be able to see through his mask to the feelings he was hiding.

 

Hikaru was relentless, though. "Heaven forbid the perfect Touya should have his hair mussed. What would people think?"

 

"I don't care what other people think," Akira said, standing and folding his arms. "That's not the point."

 

"So, you want people to think you've been up to something, alone up here with me, that would get your hair mussed?" Hikaru's eyes were sparkling playfully.

 

Akira was stunned into momentary speechlessness. "No one would think that," he said uncertainly.

 

"This is me we're talking about," Hikaru said. "If we're alone too long, they'll believe anything. I have a reputation, you know."

 

"So do I," Akira said, grabbing Hikaru's wrists as the hair-mussing continued. "And it's a reputation I intend to maintain. In fact, it's the sort of reputation that I'll bet I could be up here kissing you, or more, and no one would believe it."

 

"Five thousand yen says you're wrong," Hikaru said, voice sounding vaguely husky.

 

He knew that Hikaru couldn't be serious. He couldn't mean that. But a man could only be pushed so far, after all. Akira nodded. "Is that all? Just five thousand?"

 

Hikaru opened his mouth to answer, but Akira didn't wait. He was kissing his childhood rival and friend with years of pent up desire, suppressed too long and too strictly. And once he let go his precious self-control, there was no turning back.