Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ The Wrath of Touya Meijin ( Chapter 10 )

Akira reluctantly turned his key in the door, having no desire to enter his home. Miho had apparently already come and gone, as there was no sign of her car. She had left the restaurant before him - without him. He had wanted to walk home alone to sort out his thoughts and feelings.

 

But before he had walked home, he had made a call from the restaurant phone to Hikaru's cell. Just to make certain that his friend had made it home all right, that he hadn't wrecked somewhere. He had to know for certain, otherwise he'd be haunted by horrible images of the other pro lying hurt somewhere, bleeding to death.

 

But Hikaru had answered after only two rings, very much alive. From the sound of the other boy's voice, he had been crying. Unable to bear responding to that pain, unable to deal with it, Akira had hung up without saying anything.

 

Both his father and his mother were waiting for him as he entered, seated with awkward stiffness on the couch. His mother's face was pinched and anguished, as though someone had died. His father gazed at him without expression, but his eyes were hard.

 

Akira had the insane urge to bolt back out of the house and run, to run somewhere that he could hide. To run to Hikaru, perhaps. The other boy had always seemed safe to him, though he knew the bleach-banged boy was not necessarily steady or reliable.

 

“Son…I told you before that Shindou Hikaru was not an acceptable person for you to spend time with, that he was to be avoided. You have apparently continually disobeyed me since I told you that you were not to spend time with him anymore. Why is that, Akira? You have never disobeyed me before.”

 

Akira could hardly breathe due to the anxiety squeezing his throat shut. “It's just Hika-Shindou, father!” He cursed in his mind as the familiar first name slipped out, damning him even further in the eyes of his father. “He's harmless!”

 

His father's eyes narrowed. “It's that very familiarity - that unseemly familiarity - that drove your very first girlfriend away! I cannot believe that you managed to disgrace yourself and Miho so thoroughly in such a short time! She was mortified, Akira, and she told your mother and I about everything that happened.”

 

He felt cold panic flood him, cramping his stomach. Everything? Hikaru's rudeness, Akira running out after him, the kiss? Please not the kiss. He prayed that Miho had some decency in her heart, that she had spared him that pain. She hadn't seemed like a bad person to him.

 

“I apologized to her, father, and asked her to overlook Shindou's behavior.” Akira felt that his voice would start to tremble soon. But he could not go to his room until his father was finished.

 

“Son…this `friendship' that the two of you have…it's not normal. Don't you see that? Do you understand, Akira? How have your mother and I failed you? Have we not provided an example of what acceptable companionship should be?”

 

Akira averted his eyes, staring hard at the empty loveseat. “What's abnormal about our friendship, father? I will, of course, continue to seek a woman to be my companion for life, but how can it be wrong to be friends with Shindou? The two things are not related.”

 

“That's where you seem to be confused, son. You say that, but Miho told me that the two of you had a loud and disgraceful argument in the parking lot tonight where everyone could hear you - and neither of you seemed to care. I cannot believe that my son would act in such a rash and thoughtless fashion unless his feelings were deeply involved.”

 

Akira rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at his father briefly. “Shindou makes me very angry, sometimes.”

 

“She said that it was an argument about girlfriends, of all things - and the way that your friend dresses. There was also something about a tattoo that you saw, son? Miho said that this tattoo of Shindou's was somewhere private, but that you were aware of it. What was that tattoo, Akira, and how did you see it?”

 

Could this get any worse? Aside from his father knowing about the kiss, he was certain that it could not. He could feel himself blushing. “We were - we were getting changed to go swimming, and I accidentally saw it.”

 

“Akira. What was the tattoo?” Touya Kouyo's tone was full of warning.

 

“It was…the kanji for my first name. I have no idea why he would get something like that in such a place.”

 

His mother stirred. “Akira, can you truly be unaware of the reason that Shindou-kun would do such a thing? Isn't it apparent to you that he has abnormal yearnings towards you?”

 

“It's apparent to me that he's an idiot who's always causing me trouble,” Akira muttered, raising a hand to massage his left temple. He had the beginnings of a truly spectacular headache.

 

“Then by god, Akira, cut him off! Please, son. We'd rather you do this of your own volition.”

 

A chill went through Akira's body at his father's phrasing. Cut Hikaru off of his own volition…or what? “Father…I can't. In good conscience, I cannot do that to him. It would be wrong.”

 

His father shot to his feet, rage and pain suddenly transforming his face. “And letting him kiss you isn't?! You will not be that way, Akira! My son is not defective!”

 

Akira stared, mouth hanging open, stomach falling through the floor. She had told them about the kiss! Unable to think of a single thing to say, he continued to gape at his enraged father. This was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.

 

His father was breathing hard, seemingly overwrought with the emotions that had made him raise his voice to Akira. “Akira, I think it is necessary to ground you until you come to your senses. You are not to leave the house, you are not to use the computer, you are not to use any phone for any reason. I—“

 

Suddenly Akira's ring tone filled the living room. He clapped a hand to the pocket his cell phone was in, willing it to stop. Who could be calling—? Surely Hikaru wouldn't—

 

“Give me that!” his father barked, striding over and thrusting his hand under Akira's nose expectantly.

 

Akira winced and hurriedly fumbled the cell out of its pocket, handing it over immediately.

 

Touya Kouyo flipped open the cell and stared at the screen for a long, tense moment. He pressed a button, then flipped the phone closed again. “There, perhaps that will send him the proper message.”

 

“Father, who was it?” Anxious, he feared it had been Hikaru, calling to talk, and that his father had hung up on the other boy.

 

His father's gaze bit into him, full of contempt and disappointment. “Who do you think it was, son? It was your friend, `Hikaru' as you have him named in your phone. I felt that hanging up on him was the most polite thing I could have done under the circumstances. Now go up to your room and stay there. I will hold onto this and hang up on Shindou as many times as necessary.”

 

“Father! Hikaru will—“ Akira reached out his hand towards the phone, unaware of what exactly it was that he thought he could do.

 

His father held the phone out of reach. “Do you defy me still, Akira? How dare you act this way! Aren't you in enough trouble already?”

 

Akira withdrew his reaching hand sharply, looking down. His father was right. What had come over him? He was acting recklessly and impulsively, just like Hikaru. But all he could think about was how his best friend would feel when he was continually hung up on by who he thought was Akira. Was anything worse than allowing that to happen?

 

“Go!” his father exploded, pointing imperiously towards the stairs.

 

Akira jumped, then raced to comply, not looking back. He had almost expected his father to cuff him for his impertinence. Why couldn't he just do the logical thing instead of getting himself into these situations?

 

He shut the door of his room firmly behind him and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh.

 

Hikaru would think that Akira hated him. The thought tore at him, paining him more than anything that he could remember. It troubled him even more than the disapproval and disappointment his parents had expressed in him. But what could he do?

 

Even if he wanted to disobey more grievously than before, he doubted he could slip out of the house. It was rare that both of his parents were absent.

 

It seemed that it was time for him to move out and live on his own, but he didn't feel entirely prepared for it. Also, moving out in the midst of this discord would likely break his family apart, and he didn't want that.

 

Why did they insist on drawing these lines, on trying to make him choose when there were no choices to be made? He couldn't fathom it. Miho, Waya and his parents seemed to think that there was something strange going on between he and Hikaru. But he suspected that the only difference between he and Hikaru's friendship and that of Waya and Isumi was that their embarrassing `secrets' had not been spilled or discovered by anyone else.

 

Surely perfectly normal boys had accidental kisses. It had been for a noble cause - to save him from being groped by a stranger. That was okay, wasn't it? It wasn't as if either one of them had wanted a kiss, or set out to claim one from the other.

 

The memory of Hikaru's angry voice rang in his head. “But who stood there and kissed back?”

 

Akira stared at his black dress shoes without seeing them, remembering the emotion and torment in Hikaru's face. Did Hikaru feel something? Something different, something strange, something not normal? Did the other boy…did the other boy care about him as he would a girlfriend, did he want Akira?

 

He shivered, closing his eyes as his body tingled strangely. It was possible that Hikaru was confused, that their close friendship had misled the bleach-banged boy into thinking that Akira returned some sort of unnatural desire.

 

Some sort of…unnatural…

 

Impressions flashed through his mind of Hikaru's smile, Hikaru's arms around him. Akira was horrified when the tears welled in his eyes and overflowed, streaking down his face. His chest hurt so much. “Hika…Hikaru…it's not right for you to feel…that way. Don't care about me so much.” He whispered the last, trembling, afraid to open his eyes.

 

His hands clenched in the bedding and a sob tore its way out of his throat. He couldn't recall the last time he had cried. Why was he doing so now? All he knew was that the emotions churning inside of him were tangled, tempestuous and unable to be catalogued properly. How could he deal with something that he couldn't understand?

 

They'd said such awful things to each other. He didn't think that Hikaru was disgraceful or whorish. He did not hate the kiss they had shared, or any of the time they had spent together.

 

Hikaru was confused, that was all. Akira knew that he would have to be understanding and gentle, careful with the sensitive soul that the other boy disguised under gales of laughter and brilliant smiles. He might very well be the only person that knew that side of Hikaru.

 

If his dear friend kissed him again, he would just push him away gently and tell him why that couldn't happen. Tell Hikaru that Akira himself did not want those sorts of things from their relationship.

 

Akira opened his eyes slowly, taking a deep breath. It wasn't so difficult to solve this problem after all.