Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ Wake-up Call ( Chapter 19 )

“Your mother cooks quite wonderfully, Hikaru,” Akira commented, tone slightly surprised as he looked up from his plate.

 

Hikaru made a noncommittal noise from where he hung half off of his bed, flipping through a kifu book that he was giving only half of his attention to. He had finished his own dinner a few minutes earlier, seeing as how he was starving and Akira ate so damned methodically.

 

He'd been stealing glances at the other boy since they'd arrived approximately an hour ago. The only way that he could stand sleeping beside Akira every night was to try to be asleep when the other boy finally made it into bed after his lengthy evening grooming. God knew what took up so much time. It had to be the hair.

 

“I don't think I've ever spent the night at your house before,” Akira murmured as he resumed picking at his meal.

 

“No, you typically just come over to play Go and argue with me,” Hikaru replied with a smirk, looking at his rival to gauge his reaction.

 

Akira didn't disappoint him. The remark earned him a disapproving look, but he could see some slight disguised amusement in the other boy's aqua eyes. “That's not my objective, Hikaru.”

 

“Hmph.” He was very impressed that Akira had actually decided to wear normal clothing today. He thoroughly approved of the blue jeans and black tank top. The other boy had slender, shapely arms with just a touch of muscle tone.

 

“Are you looking at me?” Akira asked incredulously, tilting his head slightly to the side.

 

Startled at being caught, Hikaru hid behind his kifu book. “What? What are you talking about, Akira? Can't you see that I'm reading? Geez, you always think that everyone's looking at you, don't you?”

 

He could feel Akira's scowl. “Of course not, but I have more than enough reason to suspect that you might look at me. You've made enough passes to justify my having a bodyguard by now.”

 

It was Hikaru's turn to scowl. He lowered the book to glare at the other boy. “Well, that's not an issue anymore, now is it? I won't be making any more `passes' at you, so you can just forget about that.”

 

Akira blinked a couple of times in surprise, then masked it and gave Hikaru his patented haughty look. “Who says I care? That's certainly a relief. It's nerve-wracking to have to be concerned about it constantly.”

 

“Is that so?” he returned hotly, oddly hurt by Akira's remarks. He had thought that the other boy had some reaction to him, that there was something there, whether Akira was willing to admit it or not, but obviously he'd been wrong.

 

“Let's play one of your silly video games and then a few games of Go before bed.”

 

Hikaru could tell that it was a blatant attempt by Akira to avoid an emotional argument with him. He huffed a little before relenting. He had no desire to fight with his rival. It was just a little annoying that the other boy was always being avoidant like this. “Fine, we'll play whatever you'd like.”

 

And here they'd gotten along so well at Isumi's place.

 

Perhaps he should call Isumi to check on him. He couldn't stop thinking about what his other friend must be going through to have spoken to them like that, and he knew how Waya could be. For someone that cared so much for the auburn-haired boy, it had to be hell.

 

Hikaru made a face. Spare him that! Thankfully, Akira was more the quiet and introverted type, never in-your-face like Waya.

 

“Hikaru?” Akira prompted, looking at him expectantly.

 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, got distracted.”

 

“By…?”

 

He made a mocking face at Akira. “Oh, probably just my perverted fantasies, since you know that you're all I think about, `Kira.”

 

Akira looked slightly taken aback, but there was also a glimmer of something uncertain and peculiar in his expression, accompanied by a rather fierce blush.

 

He was really starting to wonder about these mixed reactions that his friend kept giving him. Not that he'd ever get the truth out of the other pro, but he was tempted to provoke Akira into a further, more meaningful response. But he'd meant what he said. He wasn't going to make any more passes, despite the fact that he could barely resist doing so half of the time.

 

He was going to cut his losses and be glad to have Akira as his best friend and rival. Asking for more wouldn't get him anywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akira wondered why he let himself be convinced to do these things that he knew were not good ideas. Such as letting the bleach-banged boy persuade him to share a bed with him yet again. His rival had given him some spiel about how the couch was horribly uncomfortable, and how Akira's sleep would be disturbed by his mother clattering around in the morning, etc.

 

So here they were in bed together. Again. Akira sighed into his pillow and turned over yet again, facing Hikaru. Moonlight filtered through the curtains at the nearby window, faintly illuminating his friend's features.

 

Why did Hikaru have to be so painfully adorable when he was asleep? He edged a little closer, still watching the other boy's face.

 

Had his rival truly meant it when he said he'd been having fantasies? Surely not, since the statement had been paired with one of Hikaru's trademark `obnoxious' expressions. But his own reaction had been horribly girlish. Something within him had leapt and thrilled at the words before the other boy's expression had sunk in.

 

Something peculiar was happening to him, within him. Perhaps his father had been correct, as much as he hated to admit such a thing. Being around Hikaru had made those confused feelings even worse. He hardly knew what to do with himself.

 

And then there was the assurance from Hikaru that he would make no more passes at Akira. He'd felt so…disappointed. So empty and sad. Despite the fact that this was what he'd wanted, what he'd told the bleach-banged boy that he wanted…it made him unhappy.

 

How disturbing was that?

 

Akira moved even closer, rising up on his elbow to lean over Hikaru. Their legs were just barely touching, but it sent a surge of warmth through him. Why was he so fascinated with this annoying, unruly boy?

 

Hikaru shifted slightly into him, bringing their bodies closer together, and Akira held his breath, hoping with all of his might that his friend was not about to wake up.

 

After several moments of no further movement, he leaned in closer until he could faintly feel the other boy's breath on his cheek. He slowly leaned down and inhaled the scent of Hikaru's hair, allowed it to brush his nose. It was soft and smelled faintly of apples.

 

His rival made a very faint sound that could have passed for a breathy moan, and Akira realized that he'd been breathing into his friend's ear. He blushed, but did not back away. He might never have another chance like this again.

 

Failing to question his own actions, he moved so that his lips were almost touching Hikaru's. He stayed like that, sharing breath with the bleach-banged boy. Akira closed his eyes, barely able to withstand the feelings that were awakening within him at his own daring, at his proximity to this person.

 

Hardly able to breathe, he opened his eyes again and leaned forward just enough for his lips to touch Hikaru's. Without quite realizing what he was doing, he opened his mouth a little more, began seeking for the moisture of his rival's mouth…

 

Hikaru stirred and Akira jerked back, heart thundering so loudly that he could barely hear anything else.

 

Those green eyes opened slightly, settling on his face. “Mmm…'Kira…what's s'matter?”

 

“I just…couldn't sleep,” he whispered hoarsely, almost choking on his fear that Hikaru would know.

 

“Want…tea?” the other boy managed to mumble sleepily.

 

“No, that's fine. Thank you.”

 

Before he had even finished his assurance, Hikaru had fallen back asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief. Well, what did he expect if he was foolish enough to get so close and do something like that? What was the matter with him that he had been lulled into almost beginning a real kiss with the other boy?

 

Akira closed his eyes, realizing belatedly that there was an insistent, tight heat in his abdomen and that he was embarrassingly aroused, even more than he had been the other night when he'd tried to imagine sex with Hikaru. It hurt. There wasn't much that he could do about that, unless…unless…

 

Face burning with humiliation, he slid out of bed and made his way carefully to the bathroom in the hall. This was horrible. At least no one would be questioning him.

 

He had never been interested in any kind of sexual gratification until Hikaru. Since meeting the other boy, he had sometimes felt inclined to touch himself, albeit infrequently. But lately, it had become almost necessary in order to control his awkward and misplaced desires. The more he was around his friend, the more insistent and fierce the urges were.

 

Akira quietly closed the door behind him, hoping that Hikaru wouldn't wake up and come looking for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hikaru crunched happily through his very Western toast, trying to keep an eye on Akira without getting caught. Again.

 

Since they'd woken up this morning, the aqua-eyed boy had been acting stranger than usual. Reticent, yes, but also furtive. As if Akira had something to hide. That, and the way the other boy was always watching him so intently whenever he happened to look up. Every time he caught Akira staring, the other pro would look away sharply, a slight blush rising in his face.

 

This, of course, made Hikaru extremely curious. It seemed almost as if he were being crushed on by the other boy, but as Akira had expressed so clearly, such a thought was quite ridiculous, as his rival had no romantic interest in him.

 

“I have to find a boyfriend as soon as possible,” he muttered to himself, thinking with dread of Amari. The sooner he found one, the sooner he could break up with her.

 

“What?” Akira exclaimed, eyes wide and startled as they met his for a moment.

 

“I said I have to find a boyfriend?” Hikaru repeated, arching a brow.

 

“Oh…I see. I thought you'd said something else.” The other boy looked down at the table, ignoring his miso soup.

 

“Like…?”

 

“It was nothing, it didn't make sense.” Akira picked up his chopsticks and was suddenly focused on the soup as if eating it was his most important goal in life.

 

“Uh…okay. If you say so.”

 

Was he the only one that acted normal anymore? Waya had turned into some recluse, Isumi was freaking out and Akira was jumping at every little thing.

 

“How do you think Isumi is doing?” he asked Akira.

 

“If how he was acting yesterday is any indication, I'd have to say not well.” Akira's response was delivered in a steady voice, his tone very matter-of-fact, but the other boy still refused to meet his eyes.

 

“That's what I'm afraid of. I want to go over there and see how he's doing, but I'm also kind of afraid to try. He might kill me or something. I tried calling Waya this morning, but he still won't answer me.”

 

Hikaru's mother entered the kitchen. “Are you boys all set? Did Hikaru at least give you real food, Touya-kun? I don't know how he eats what he does and still looks so healthy.”

 

“Moooooomm,” Hikaru groaned, rolling his eyes. “Leave us alone! Man, obviously I can heat up some miso for Akira. I could even cook if I had to, but there was already some in the refrigerator, so all is well, right? So stop worrying about us.” Bothering them was more like it, but it disturbed Akira when he was sharp with his mother.

 

“Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Akira murmured, inclining his head towards Hikaru's mother.

 

She smiled and clasped her hands together. “You are welcome any time.” With that, she left the kitchen.

 

“Oh, thank god,” Hikaru muttered, slouching in his chair. “You always manage to get her to go away.”

 

Akira gave him a slightly amused look. “If you'd be kinder to your mother, I doubt she'd `bother' you quite so much. It's obvious that she just wants to interact with you, Hikaru.”

 

“Hmph, I wish she'd interact somewhere else,” he grumbled, relieved to be on the familiar ground of griping about his mother.

 

“Hikaru! You are an ungrateful and wretched son!” Akira was chiding him, but the other boy still smiled faintly.

 

He leaned back and folded his arms behind his head, watching in amazement as his rival's gaze dropped to briefly skim over the lines of his torso before jumping back up to his face. He waited, watching Akira's face closely… Blush. There it was! It was like clockwork!

 

Apparently his fishnet top had some effect on Akira, especially without anything on under it. He was also wearing a pair of very torn up cut-off jean `shorts' with black spandex underneath so that he wasn't flashing anyone. The other boy had criticized and verbally dissected his shorts quite thoroughly before giving up and allowing Hikaru to wear them in peace. Perhaps his rival found them too interesting. He had to grin all over again at that.

 

“So we're moving you in today, eh? No more sharing a bed with me. Yaaaayy.” He deadpanned the `yay' just to be cute.

 

Akira shrugged, attention riveted on his soup once again.

 

Something told Hikaru that it was going to be a very interesting day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waya finished packing his backpack and zipped it up, leaning over to glace at his cell phone where it lay on the table beside his bed. Hikaru had called at 9:53 A.M. while he was in the shower. He would surely ignore that.

 

He picked up the phone to check for any calls from Isumi, but there had been none. He had not dared to call the other boy last night after their falling out, but he had tried calling him five times this morning with no answer.

 

Isumi was ignoring him again. He was worried. He was more than worried. Upon waking up this morning, he had realized just how very out of line he had been last night. Even if Isumi was playing around with Hikaru, he had pushed his friend too hard. Too hard. He could plainly see the signs of Isumi's stress.

 

He'd been all over the other boy lately, his insecurity and fear making him act like a complete bitch. He had to take responsibility for it, before he allowed it to wreck everything worthwhile in his life. Before he drove Isumi insane.

 

What if he had destroyed everything and anything between them? The wildness in his friend's eyes last night, the yelling and the broken cup had been a more effective wake-up call than if Isumi had simply thrown the sake in his face.

 

Everything that had happened between them in the last couple of weeks played back in his mind, especially the times he had pushed the other boy away or had callously and insensitively crushed the emotions that Isumi tried to share with him.

 

I'm so afraid. But I can't keep hurting you like this.

 

He had chosen to wear his green tank top and his green and brown camouflage pants. Camouflage made everything better. It was also his most comfortable and favorite outfit, and who knew what would happen today when he went back to Isumi's to confront him yet again? The other boy was clearly done with him.

 

As an afterthought, he grabbed his mp3 player. If he had to wait for a little while, it would keep him from working himself up by distracting him. Waya paused, closing his hand gently around it. It had been a Christmas present from Isumi. It was doubly fitting that he take it to keep him company.

 

“I'm coming, Isumi. Just hang on. Your stupid ass of a friend will be there soon.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isumi took a deep breath as he watched the filtered sunlight play over the stones before him.

 

He had thought that it would be pleasant to spend the day away from other human beings, and so he had decided to walk to the park near his apartment earlier this morning.

 

He was settled at a picnic table beneath a maple tree and had even had the presence of mind to bring his portable Go-ban. He'd been playing random games with the occasional passerby for several hours.

 

It was soothing and distracting, but not the least bit challenging. He was mostly just enjoying the sound of the wind, the rustling leaves and the absence of discord. And the absence of his cell phone, among other things.

 

But he also missed those other things.

 

Isumi stared vacantly at the Go-ban, fingers occasionally stirring the stones in his Go-ke.

 

If only I could stop loving you, Waya. Things would be so much simpler.

 

But the sky would sooner fall. As trite and melodramatic as it sounded, he loved the other boy absolutely, and he didn't think that anything would ever change that. Even if he managed to dredge up the strength and determination to cut Waya off, he would be hurting himself the most. It didn't matter if they saw each other, if they touched. His lover was always with him - in his thoughts, in his heart, in his soul and everything around him. There was no escape for him.

 

To no longer see Waya…his hand clenched, capturing some of the stones and grinding them together.

 

Isumi looked up at the sky without seeing it, trying not to think of the grinding in his chest, the ache in his throat. Being without the person that meant everything to him didn't bear thinking about.

 

He couldn't tolerate this half-relationship between he and Waya. To have the other boy, and yet have nothing of him at all.

 

He glanced at his watch, surprised to note that it was 3:00 P.M. He wondered vaguely if his friend had even attempted to get in touch with him. He supposed he'd find out in a little while. It was about time he went home, anyway.