Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ Messages ( Chapter 14 )

Akira returned his father's gaze doggedly, trying to maintain an expression of polite surprise.

 

“Well, son? I'm waiting for a response.” His father held out Akira's cell phone towards him as if he expected some other reaction than the one he was getting.

 

Hikaru had left several hours ago and Akira had hoped that he was done being tormented for the day, but as soon as his father had returned home they'd started a conversation about the messages that Hikaru had left for him.

 

“I…don't need to listen to them, father.” Anything but that.

 

“Oh, but I think you do. You need to know what you're dealing with.” His father pressed a few buttons on the phone, then handed it to Akira.

 

Dutifully, he took the phone, pressing it to his ear.

 

“…have 12 messages…”

 

Akira blinked. Hikaru had left him twelve messages over the last several days? Hearing the other boy's voice pulled his attention back to the phone.

 

“Akira…I'm at the Go salon, and you're not here. Is everything okay, aside from me being an asshole? You're not avoiding me…right? I guess I'll see you later.”

 

“It's me. Again. Want to play Go? If you don't want to leave your place, I'll come to you. That's okay. I understand if you're depressed. I didn't realize that you liked Miho that much…so…call me, okay?”

 

“…Kira…I'm sorry, I know I'm a jerk. I always have been, right?” Weak laughter. “I feel terrible about this. Can't we talk? Message me or something.”

 

“…Uh…can you just call back and tell me you want me to leave you alone for a while or something? This silence is freaking me out. I mean, we're still friends. Aren't we? Please call back, Akira. I'll meet you anywhere. I'll buy you dinner. I won't argue with you for a whole week. Come on, whatever you want.”

 

“Hey…” Hoarse voice. Sound of hitching breath. “You're really scaring me, Akira. Please pick up the phone. I need to hear your voice. I need to talk to you. Please.”

 

Akira held back a wince as Hikaru's voice broke on the last word. This was torture. He could feel his father's sharp eyes boring into his skull as he listened, but he maintained his vacant stare at the floor, as if unaware of it.

 

“Well, I guess you're still not answering. I can't say that I blame you. I doubt I'd answer me, either. I miss you…”

 

“You know, it occurred to me that maybe you're angry that I still have a girlfriend after making you lose yours.” Brittle laugh. “Well, don't be - I really don't want her. Just say the word and I'll break up with her. Then we'll be even, right? But of course, maybe you cared for yours more…I really do suck, don't I? I don't know why someone as amazing as you has been friends with me for so long, anyhow…”

 

“You…are the most important person to me. I can't live like this. I couldn't stand it if we weren't friends anymore. I know I'm not the most important person to you, so maybe this doesn't matter to you. Maybe you're tired of me. I get it. I'm tired of me, too. But tell me. Please.”

 

“Akira…” Whispered.

 

“My…my friend. Are you there?” Tremulous voice. “Please forgive me. I'll do anything.” Sound of muffled sobs.

 

Akira finally closed his eyes, unable to refrain from doing so. He was struggling with keeping up the pretense of not caring about the sound of Hikaru falling apart that he cradled to his ear. He could feel tears stinging his own eyes, but forced himself to focus on the kifu he had memorized, attempting to distance himself.

 

“You are my most precious person. Akira…oh, god. I can't stand this…I care about you so much…more than anyone. I'm your…your friend first, before anything else, before anyone else. Please forgive me.”

 

Hikaru's voice was breathy, vulnerable, overflowing with raw emotion. He sounded as if he were pleading with a lover. This must be what his father had wanted him to hear.

 

“I…I…” Voice dropping to a whisper. “Don't leave me. I can't live without you.”

 

Akira pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it in shock. Hikaru hadn't said that! It almost sounded as if the bleach-banged boy loved him. The other pro had been crying through the last five messages, too.

 

Discretely, he hit the `save messages' button. There was no way that he'd delete messages that precious, messages that clearly told him how Hikaru felt about him…both in words, and in the spaces between the words.

 

Akira felt even worse about what had happened earlier after having heard those messages. He had been cruel to Hikaru. And the shaky stability that he had gained in resolving to `guide' them both down the right path had disintegrated again.

 

When he heard that pleading voice…he didn't know what he was doing anymore. What he was feeling. What he was thinking. It was the `drowning' Hikaru again, the one he couldn't help but respond to.

 

He dragged his gaze back up to meet his father's, feeling anger start to burn behind his eyes.

 

“Do you see, Akira? This is what I meant. It's best that you're cutting him off now.” His father's expression was stern and arrogant.

 

“I am not cutting him off. I fully intend to remain his friend, and I will continue talking to him and seeing him. All this has done is hurt his feelings and make him miserable. What is productive about that? What good does hurting him do?” Akira had raised his voice slightly, waving the hand with his phone in it sharply.

 

“Akira! Do not speak to me like that, or you will never leave this house again.” Touya Kouyo took a step towards his son.

 

He scowled back at his father, further angered by the intimidation tactic. “I can always just move out, can't I? I'm not going to torment my best and only friend to make you happy. I'm sorry, father, but I can't do that. I can't hurt Hikaru anymore.”

 

His father's eyes were cold. “Is that so? Ready to move out all on your own? You truly imagine yourself that capable, that independent? And I suppose you'll be Hikaru's slave as soon as you leave this house? Do whatever Hikaru wants, sinking into depravity and shaming your family? Destroying your career?”

 

Akira clenched his teeth. “No, father, I'll simply live my life on my own without every move being dictated by my family. And I will be friends with whomever I wish, whether or not you approve.”

 

His heart was racing with the terror of defying his father, and his entire body was trembling. But this was something that needed to be done if he was ever going to be seen as an adult. If he was ever going to be an adult.

 

“Then get out, Akira. If that's how you are. You're an ungrateful and graceless son, and I'm ashamed to claim you as my own blood. Get out of this house, and don't expect any assistance from us.” His father's face was flushed with rage, eyes burning.

 

Akira felt as if someone had poured cold water down the back of his neck. But he would keep his pride, at the very least. “Fine, I'll pack right now.” He couldn't believe that this was truly happening to him!

 

His father stormed out of the room, and Akira turned mechanically to the task he'd been assigned. As he packed, he considered the rashness of his words and actions.

 

He did not have a car with which to move his belongings, nor did he want to call on Hikaru to help him. Isumi had a car, but he barely knew the other boy and didn't even have his phone number.

 

But he did have Hikaru's cell, which undoubtedly had the dark-haired pro's number in it. He hated the idea, but he didn't have much of a choice. He would have to ask for Isumi's assistance and promise to repay him.

 

Akira had also never gone about renting an apartment. Something else he would have to ask Isumi about. Things were continuing to go downhill.

 

He firmly suppressed the panic that was trying to consume him. He was intelligent and mature, so he could handle this. He just had to have a little confidence in himself…and in Isumi.

 

Akira picked up Hikaru's little yellow cell phone and selected Isumi's name from the contacts list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isumi slowly put down his cell phone, frowning. How was he supposed to handle this?

 

“What? Who was it, Isumi?” Hikaru was lounging on his couch with a bowl of ramen, `overnight' bag sitting next to the couch.

 

“It was Touya. He's in a bad situation and needs help.”

 

Hikaru froze mid-bite, green eyes wide and anxious. “What's wrong? What happened? Does he need us?”

 

“Well, his father is throwing him out. I didn't ask why, but apparently Touya needs to leave right now, and he has no way of transporting his belongings without a car. He also needs to find an apartment, and you know that takes a few days. He needs somewhere to stay for a few days, obviously.”

 

The bleach-banged boy stared at Isumi, expression conflicted. “I guess I'll leave, then. I mean, you don't need two people crashing with you for several days and—“

 

“No you don't! You're staying here. You look like hell, Hikaru, and I'm worried about you. I don't know what's going on with you and Touya, but you're both going to stay here until things have settled down, and that's the last I'm hearing on it.”

 

The other boy shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes, gazing into his ramen intently. “You don't look so well yourself, lately. You can talk to me, Isumi.”

 

Isumi snorted. “And you can talk to me, but you've been here for a few hours now and haven't said anything remotely serious as of yet.”

 

Hikaru winced, caught. “Yeah, I know. I swear I'll talk, Isumi, I just need some time to calm down. Of course, Akira being here isn't going to help things.” The last was muttered under the bleach-banged boy's breath, almost below hearing.

 

“Oh? And why is that?”

 

“That's something we'll have to talk about later, I suppose. Let's go rescue Akira.”

 

Isumi sighed, pulling on his shoes. “Are you certain that you should be along for that if there's some sort of conflict between the two of you?”

 

“Well…maybe not, but don't tell him I'm here, okay?” Hikaru's vibrant eyes were pleading.

 

“Hmm…if you insist. But no fighting.” Isumi paused, then amended, “Well, no fighting that includes yelling or keeping me awake at night.”

 

Hikaru grinned wryly. “I'll try. I can't vouch for him, though.”

 

“Okay, stay put. I'll be back shortly. If Waya calls, tell him whatever he wants to know.”

 

“Uh…okay…” Hikaru resumed eating the ramen after arching a brow at Isumi.

 

Thank goodness Hikaru had come today and not yesterday when he and Waya had…were…well. How awkward would that have been? As it was, his lover had only left this morning.

 

He had already had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was that Hikaru needed to talk about would involve Touya, but the last few minutes had confirmed it. He was certain that he knew what it was, just not the details. Things had been heating up between Touya and Hikaru for some time, but since it had been gradual, almost no one had noticed.

 

Aside from Waya, of course. It was obvious to him now why Waya was so attuned to such things. It stemmed from the other boy's fear of his own feelings that he tried so hard to repress. Isumi had suspected that, too, but not that those feelings were somewhat focused on him.

 

Hikaru and Touya certainly hadn't done anything else quietly. It was ironic that their feelings for each other had developed that way.

 

Isumi waved and let himself out, a little worried about what he was getting himself into with letting the both of them stay with him. Well, at least it was a distraction from the miserable drama in his own life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hikaru jumped up like a startled rabbit as the door opened and almost dropped the game controller for Isumi's Playstation 2. He quickly set it down on the couch and turned back to the door.

 

Isumi walked in carrying a couple of suitcases, Akira right behind him and demurely protesting the other pro's carrying of the suitcases. “Isumi, you've done enough already, and I can't tell you how much I apprec—“

 

Akira's aqua eyes met Hikaru's, and the other boy froze, dropping the suitcases he'd been carrying. “Hikaru!” his best friend exclaimed softly.

 

He smiled and glanced away as he rubbed the back of his neck, his heart aching. “Hey, long time no see, right? Sorry, I had to crash on Isumi, too.”

 

“What—what happened? Did something happen at home?” Akira's eyes searched his urgently, concerned.

 

Isumi quietly picked up the suitcases Akira had dropped, set them aside and went back outside.

 

“No, I just couldn't stand being there anymore. I just need to stay with Isumi for a few days. I've been a little…mixed up.”

 

Akira winced, looking pained. “I…I see.”

 

“What happened that you suddenly needed to leave?”

 

“Well, father insisted that I…father was just trying to control me again and I'm tired of it. That's all. So I told him so, and he told me I could leave.”

 

“God, Akira…that's really harsh. I'm so sorry! Wow…if you need a longer period of time to find an apartment, you can stay with me after Isumi if you want. Mom wouldn't mind.”

 

The other boy smiled faintly. “Ahh…thank you, but I'm hoping to become established as quickly as possible.”

 

“Well, just in case things don't go as you plan…the offer is there.”

 

“Oh, speaking of which…I don't need this anymore.” Akira handed him his cell phone.

 

Hikaru wanted to cringe when he thought about the messages he'd left. “Sorry about those messages that I left on your phone.”

 

“I heard them earlier…father insisted that I listen to them.”

 

He meet Akira's eyes, feeling dread gathering in the pit of his stomach, but the other pro held his gaze without flinching or looking perturbed. “I hope you deleted those stupid messages.”

 

“No. They're still here.” The other boy's hand slipped inside his pocket to touch the cell phone, seemingly without his realizing it.

 

“Delete them. I shouldn't have left them.” He couldn't stand the thought of Akira listening to recordings of him sniveling and crying.

 

Akira pressed back against the door, looking slightly defensive. “No, I won't.”

 

“Why not! They're so idiotic!” Hikaru moved forward, reaching towards his friend to get the cell phone so that he could delete the embarrassing messages.

 

The other pro turned protectively so that the pocket with the cell phone was turned away from Hikaru. “No! Leave it alone, I'll keep them if I want to keep them!” The color had risen in Akira's cheeks, and his aqua eyes were flashing with defiance.

 

Hikaru felt a pang in his heart and a fluttering in his stomach as he realized all over again how beautiful Akira was. The other boy stared back at him. Determined, he reached his hand around to slip it into his friend's pocket.

 

Akira gasped, looking startled. “Hikaru! What are you—“

 

It was obvious that Akira expected something other than his grabbing the cell phone, so he was able to capture it and withdraw before the other realized what was happening.

 

“Hikaru! Give that back to me! That is my phone. Don't you dare delete my messages!” Akira sounded completely outraged.

 

“No, these need to be—“ A sudden weight knocked him off balance and he crashed to the ground with Akira wrapped around him.

 

“They're mine, and I won't let you take them,” the other pro breathed across his lips, eyes a little angry.

 

He was about to drag Akira down for a kiss, willing or not, when the door opened again.

 

Isumi stood in the doorway, staring uncertainly. “Er…right. Is everything okay?”

 

“He tried to delete my messages!” Akira exclaimed dramatically, picking himself up off of Hikaru and smoothing his clothing.

 

“Ah…Hikaru, leave his messages alone.”

 

“But I left them!” he huffed.

 

Isumi groaned. “They're his after you leave them on his phone, right? So leave him alone. God, I thought I was going to have to break up a fight or…something.”

 

“There's no `something',” Akira replied calmly, returning his cell phone to his pocket.

 

Hikaru tore his gaze away from the aqua-eyed boy's form, firmly reminded of why he was here. “That's right. Nothing.”

 

Isumi glanced back and force between the two of them. “Hmm. Touya, I'll just put these suitcases in the closet for now. The only things left in the car are a couple of boxes of kifu and the computer, so let's go retrieve those.”

 

They left him where he was, but Akira glanced back for a moment to study him where he lay on the floor before shutting the door.

 

What had that look been? It was almost possessive…or covetous? As if Akira wanted to keep something. To keep him? The image of him? Surely not.

 

Perhaps they could all have tea, play some Go and actually relax a little. He'd probably get Isumi to himself for a few minutes eventually. He could wait.