Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ Balance ❯ Part 2, Physical (3/3) ( Chapter 7 )

BALANCE
A Hikaru no Go Sekkushiaru Roman Series
By Sailor Mac

PART TWO/PHYSICAL (3/3)

Akira walked away from the subway station, headed toward home.

The evening had turned out pretty much the way he'd expected it had. He'd only been at that party for Hikaru, anyway.

Except the part on the back porch. *That* hadn't been part of his plan.

The fingers of his left hand came up and brushed over the very fingertips of the right -- the hand that had brushed against Hikaru's. He recalled that moment that seemed frozen in time -- and more intimate than anything they had ever done together in bed.

*It was almost like we could read each other's minds,* he thought. Not that Akira believed in such a thing. Normally, that is.

A light breeze kicked up, ruffling his shoulder-length, dark hair as he strode purposely down the sidewalk, passing one dwelling after another that was build in a traditional style, like the Touyas' own home. This had been his world since childhood, safe, timeless and predictable.

There was nothing safe or predictable about what he was feeling right now. He no longer had any doubts. He knew he loved Shindou Hikaru.

Ever since that moment outside the Morishita house, that feeling of warmth, of peace inside him was stronger than ever before. So was a flutter of worry. Did Hikaru *really* feel the same way he did? Did he want to take it past friendship-with-sex?

*I still can't believe it,* he thought. *The boy who walked into my father's Go salon and turned my life upside down . . . the last person in the world I thought would be my true love. My true rival, maybe, but . . .*

He turned up the drive to his house. The living room had just a single light burning in it -- his parents had turned in a bit early. Understandable, because they were going to be traveling again in a couple of days -- they would leave on the second day of the Young Lions Tournament.

Akira had defeated Hikaru the previous year in the second round of the tournament. It had been a close game, one of their closest -- Akira had ended up winning by three moku.

*We'll probably be facing each other again,* he thought. *Either in the second round, or at the end.*

And he realized it was going to be the first time they'd be facing each other in a tournament situation since their relationship had taken the turn from friends to lovers.They'd played in the Go salon, and at each other's houses, but this was different. This had a lot more at stake.

*What is it like to have to face the person you're in love with in a tournament Go situation?* he thought as he let himself into the house. *I'm sure nobody I know has been through that. Most Go players do not date other Go players, male or female.*

He passed through the living room, turning out the light as he did so, and made his way to his bedroom. Turning on the light, he headed right for his closet, opening it and pulling out his futon.

The futon they'd made love on. As he rolled it out and shook it a bit, a scent wafted up to him -- mostly his own slightly spicy aroma, but also a bit of Hikaru's clean, woodsy scent as well. The smell of *them*.

He slowly passed his hand over the surface of the fabric, remembering Hikaru lying naked there, eyes glazed with passion. His body responded to the memory, and he became aware of a growing swelling below his belt.

*My lover, and my rival,* he thought. *Can I separate the two?*

And suddenly he remembered a conversation he had with his father years ago, when he was very small, about the "true rival" he was destined to meet someday.

"When you meet your true rival, you'll know," Touya Koyou had told his son. "It will be like finding your true love."

*Shindou is definitely my true rival,* he thought. *Is he my real, true love as well? Could I deal with that?*

Akira began to make up the bed, quickly. That damn scent was wafting up to him again. His head was filled with visions of Shindou Hikaru lying under him, moaning softly as he ran his tongue over his nipples, his hips moving upward, mutely begging Akira to take him.

As if to get away from the sensual imagery, he jumped up, opened his bureau drawer and snatched out a pair of pajamas, then rushed to the bathroom to prepare for bed. He decided against a full bath, he'd take a shower in the morning -- perhaps because he was thinking in the back of his head that if he soaked in a nice, warm tub of water, he'd be unable to keep the sexy thoughts at bay.

Hikaru in a tub of steamy water, lying back with his head against an inflatable bath pillow, his arms on either side of the rim, as if he were holding them open to embrace Akira . . .

He slammed the bathroom door behind him as if to shut out the thought. What was happening to him? Love was supposed to be a pure, spiritual thing, not turn someone into an animal in heat! Especially someone used to mental discipline.

Akira finished his business and brushed his teeth as quickly as possible, changed into his pajamas and headed back to his bedroom. He snapped off the light, crawled under the covers and closed his eyes.

And saw the image of Hikaru naked in the bathtub behind his closed eyelids. It wasn't going away, just like those dreams of Fujiwara no Sai a few weeks ago just wouldn't go away.

He tried to think about Go, to concentrate on the Young Lions tournament, to think about who his possible opponents in the second round and beyond would be. *Let's see, there's Waya, and Isumi, and Honda, and Ochi, and . . .*

*And Shindou.*

*Shindou . . . Hikaru . . . naked in that tub . . . his chest rising out of the water . . . so tempting . . .*

He imagined himself kneeling next to that tub, equally naked, the palms of his hands running over the smooth, wet, warm skin, feeling the delicate play of muscles beneath . . .

And his nipples . . . oh, the feel of his nipples getting hard under Akira's fingers . . . He flexed them a bit, imagining himself caressing the buds in tight little circles, hearing Hikaru's deep moan of pleasure . . .

He reached for the buttons of his pajamas, unbuttoning the top swiftly, tossing it aside. He slid his hands up his own stomach, imagining Hikaru doing it back to him, grasping his own nipples between thumb and forefinger and giving a small squeeze.

"Hikaru!" he gasped as he released them, then squeezed again, his hips begining to writhe, grinding his bottom against the mattress. He began to rub with quick back-and-forth motions of his thumbs, trying to hold back a very loud moan.

Oh, he wanted his lover there. He wanted him to nibble his stomach and suck his nipples and lick up and down his neck. He wanted Hikaru's manhood pressing against his, the two of them rocking their hips, feeling the frictiion, the rush of pleasure. He wanted to hear low, throaty groans and feel hot breath on his equally hot skin and taste the saltiness as he ran his tongue along Hikaru's thighs, belly, chest . . .

*I'm on fire,* he thought, as he shed his pants as well. *Just burning up.* He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under his naked bottom and began to writhe against it, grinding his hips, imagining he and Hikaru were lying back-to-back, rubbing their bottoms togehter. He could feel the firm curve slide against his own, the heated skin-on-skin friction.

Parting his legs a bit, he pushed his hips backward, imagining he was pushing against Hikaru's erection, that his lover was filling him, stretching him, making them *one*, the way he'd done to Hikaru last time. One hand came up to his mouth to stifle a loud cry as his head rolled gently to the side, his cheek brushing the silky mass of hair on the pillow.

The other hand was reaching down, down over his stomach, further still.

As he grasped himself and began to stroke, his whole body arched, his mouth open in a gasp, his eyes tightly shut. He imagined his lover's hand caressing him as his manhood began to thrust into and out of Akira's bottom . . . Hikaru's lips and tongue caressing his ear, his voice murmuring to Akira softly. . .

"Hikaru!" Akira moaned, his hips begining to thrust, pushing his erection into and out of his hand. "Yes . . . oh, yes, take me . . ."

He could feel the heat of the other boy's body, the sensation of his legs wrapped around Hikaru's hips, the tingling in his nipples as their chests rubbed together . . . His hand moved faster as the other one moved up to stroke his nipples again, wanting more sensation, more . . .

He was close, he knew it. There was a swelling of heat deep within the center of his being that grew bigger and bigger and . . .

Akira froze, then his whole body arched upward with a jerk as he let out a cry. Liquid heat slammed through every bit of him, ebbing and flowing, then slamming through him again, harder, sweeter, making him cry out a second time, before finally collapsing to the futon, limp and panting.

He just lay there for a long moment, dazed, breathing heavily, his whole body bathed in a sheen of sweat.

Slowly, his senses came back to him. He sat up a bit, blinking, and noticed the results of what had just happened on his stomach. He reached for the tissues.

It had happened again. But this time, he didn't feel the rush of negative emotions, the horror and fear. This time, it seemed more natural.

*Is it because I did it before?* he thought. *Or because of my feelings for him?*

He rose from the bed, reaching for his discarded pajamas. He put them on, hastily, then headed for the bathroom with the tissues.

It was such a nice feeling he had right now, warm and dreamy. It was intoxicting. He didn't want to think about anything right now, just go back to bed, enjoy the sensation and go to sleep.

He'd think about the Young Lions Tournament in the morning.

* * *

Hikaru stepped through the subway doors and found himself a seat easily. It was that blissful hour of the day when the Tokyo public transportation system got a break, between the time when the commuters rushed off to work and the housewives went out to do their shopping.

He breathed deeply and closed his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts. The Young Lions Tournament was a lot bigger deal for the insei partcipating than the pros -- it wasn't as if it were one of the *major* tournaments.

But to Hikaru, it was a big deal. He knew he'd narrowly lost to Touya last year in the second round. He didn't want that to happen again.

*I'm thinking of him as *Touya* when it comes to Go*, he thought, *like I always do. But when it comes to *other things* . . . I think of him as Akira.*

This didn't strike him as strangely as it should have. After all, *Touya* had been a part of his life literally since the first time he touched a Go stone. It was only recently that he'd gotten to know *Akira*.

*When did I start thinking about him like that, anyway?* Hikaru thought. *Was it when he kissed me, the day I told him about Sai? Maybe even before?*

He shook his head a bit, as if to clear it. *And why am I thinking about this anyway?* he thought. *I should be concentrating on the tournament! Geez, all I need is to lose it completely and get beaten by some insei in the first round.*

No. That was *not* going to happen. He was going to get past the first round, and the second. And then he was going to face Touya in the finals.

*Touya,* he thought. *Not Akira.*

* * *

Waya was sitting in the break room, drinking a can of coffee and trying not to think too much about his loss, because he'd just get frustrated.

It had come down to the final four. Himself and Shindou. Ochi and Touya. He'd never gotten that far in the tournament before. He did well in joseki, too, building solid territory, blocking Shindou's attempts to invade it . . .

And then Shindou had pulled one of his damn trick moves, the ones that looked like mistakes at first, but revealed themselves later to be pure genius.

He heard the sound of something being set down on the table in front of him. He looked up to see Isumi, who had given him another can.

"Thought you'd be wanting that," his friend said, sitting opposite him.

"Thanks," Waya said, finishing off the can he had and opening the other one. He figured he'd welcome the caffeine rush -- it might take the edge off his rather bitter emotions. "Did you see any of it?"

"Just the end," Isumi replied, opening his own can of coffee. "I went out for a few minutes after I lost to Touya. Shindou was in control by that point."

"I thought I had him, at first," Waya said, picking up his own can. "And then, somewhere in the mid-game . . ."

"The usual?" Isumi said, leaning back in his chair.

"He made this move that I thought was a major screw-up -- I thought he was losing it completely -- and then, ten or twelve hands later . . ."

"He was suddenly all over your territory," Isumi replied, in a tone of voice that indicated this was just par for the course.

"How does he *do* it?" Waya said, his brow furrowing. "It looked so random, but . . . when it was all over, I realized he must have planned that move from the very begining of the game."

"If we could figure it out, we'd be one step ahead of everyone else," said Isumi, bringing his can to his mouth. "Except Touya."

"What is it with Touya and Shindou, anyway?" said Waya, leaning over on his crossed arms, which were resting on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Waya, leaning over a bit more, "that they've become friends. Shindou goes to his Go salon . . ."

"He's been doing that for awhile, though," Isumi said. "At least a year. And they *were* in the Hokuto Cup together."

"But he's doing it *all the time* now! Instead of hanging out with us, he's been playing with him!"

"Well, neither of us has the time to spend with him that we used to, Waya," Isumi said matter-of-factly. "Remember, you *do* have a girlfriend now, and I've been running the teaching program at the Nine Stars Club."

"Yeah, but still . . ." Waya put his can down and stood up. "I'll be right back, I'm going to the men's room."

He left the room and turned left, heading for the bathroom, which was right next to the tournament room. *Wonder if I should look in there after,* he thought as he opened the door, *and see what's going on.*

But as soon as he was in the restroom, he knew there'd be no need for that. The air was filled with a steady, methodical tapping noise, coming from the wall of the nearest stall.

*Ochi lost,* Waya thought. *That clinches it. The championship match is between Touya and Shindou.*

* * *

Akira wasn't particularly fond of playing Go on folding chairs.

He preferred the traditional method, kneeling on cushions on either side of the goban. Or, failing that, a nice, comfortable office chair that swiveled. Folding chairs just seemed so . . . makeshift, so amateurish, so disrespectful of the game. It was like serving a fine champagne in a jelly glass.

Folding chairs were all that were used for the Young Lions Tournament, from first match to last. And Akira was trying to convince himself that this was what was *really* bothering him about his last match.

He was sitting on one of the benches that lined the walls of the room, eyes closed, breathing deeply, trying to focus.

*It's not as if I haven't played Shindou before,* he thought. *I won't let him beat me! I can't!*

And with a sickening feeling of dread, he realized those thoughts didn't have the same *fire* behind them that they usually did. Before, it always felt like defeating Shindou was a matter of life or death. He carried the memory of those first couple of games within him always, and even though he now knew the truth of who had played them, he knew that Hikaru would always have at least *some* of Sai in his Go.

Plus, his own, dangerous style that was no Sai and all *Shindou.*

He could hear people filing into the room around him, coming in to watch the finals. He could hear the mumuring -- of course people were going to talk about this match! Shindou and Touya were considered *the* names to watch in the Go world, and the prospect of a match generated excitement among other players.

Why wasn't it generating the excitment it usually did in *him*?

"Touya! Hey, Touya . . . are you ready?"

Akira's eyes opened. There, standing over him, was his opponent. The only player his own age he feared. The boy who had been in his overheated fantasies the other night.

"Yes," he said, standing up and following Hikaru to the one remaining table . . . and those damn folding chairs.

*Can I do this?* he thought. *Can I defeat my lover in a tournament?*

And then, suddenly, a bigger question, out of the blue -- *Is it possible for two people in love to reach the Hand of God?*

* * *

Ashiwara walked off the elevator and onto the floor where the tournament was being held. His own commitments had kept him away from today's tournament until now, but at least he would be there for the final match.

He had no doubt at all who he would find playing in it. He had been there the day before and watched the preliminary rounds. There was no doubt about it -- Shindou and Touya were both absolutely on fire.

*It's like something jump-started both of them,* he thought. *I haven't seen them take down opponents like that in a long time. Nobody else stood a chance.*

He wondered if that was a result of them playing each other so much. True, he still found the whole concept of that to be a bit odd, but . . . it was obviously working.

*It's so good to see Akira-kun playing like himself again,* he thought.

One of the boys who had been an insei at the same time as Shindou was coming out of the tournament room. *Waya, I think his name is,* Ashiwara thought. He figured he might as well find out if he was right about the matchup.

"Excuse me," he said, "can you tell me who's playing in there right now?"

Waya stopped, rubbing his nose a bit. "Shindou and Touya. It's the final. But Touya's not even trying."

The older pro frowned. "What do you mean, he's not even trying?"

"He's hanging back. Not attacking." Waya frowned. "It's got to be some kind of strategy. I've never seen Touya play this weakly before. Especially not against Shindou."

"Well . . . thanks."

Ashiwara watched the boy head down to the break room with a blank expression on his face.

*What is going on?* he thought. *He comes out of the gate like a champion, and then gets to the last round and folds. Against Shindou, of all people!*

He remembered when Akira had almost lost to a player much weaker than him, and seemed rather upset over something. This was reminiscent of that time.

*What is it with Akira-kun lately?* he thought.

* * *

Hikaru studied the board, a frown on his face. The game was *not* going like he'd expected.

And it *wasn't* because he was losing. Quite the contrary. He'd never been this close to beating Touya in his life. He'd built strong territories all over the board. He'd thwarted Akira's attempts to capture his stones and invade his forts.

*So why don't I feel better about this?* Hikaru thought. *I always thought if I were to defeat Touya, it would be the happiest day of my life.*

He looked down at the game again, running through it move by move from the time the first stone was laid. He saw the point where he began to fill in his territory -- where Akira would usually swoop down like a bird of prey and begin blocking him, and the two would engage in a tight fight for control of the board.

There had been no fighting. Akira had held back, delaying getting into a fight over territory, then delaying it some more. He just kept sketching his own territory in the corners.

*There is something *wrong*, Hikaru thought. *This is *not* a Touya Akira game.*

He studied the face of the boy across from him. He was also looking at the board, seemingly deep in thought, but there was something *different* about him. Something Hikaru couldn't quite put his finger on.

And then, he knew what it was. The *eyes*. Usually, when Akira was in the middle of a game, his eyes burned like fire, seemingly boring into the very soul of his opponent, challenging whoever *dared* make a move into his territory. Those eyes had intimidated more than a few opponents into resigning from a game, even if they weren't in that bad a shape.

*Now,* Hikaru thought, *they just look . . . normal. Like they do when he's on the subway, or eating, or when we're alone together.*

He could hear the other players around him whispering and buzzing. He knew he was taking forever to make his move. He didn't care. Suddenly, the game wasn't important. Whatever the hell was wrong with Akira was.

*Now I know how he felt at the junior high Go tournament, when I took over the game from Sai,* he thought. *He jumped out of his seat, and yelled at me to quit fooling around. Gods, I wish he'd do something like that now, or yell at me that I'm taking too long, or that I'm not taking the game seriously enough . . . what am I saying, right now *he's* the one not taking it serously!*

Hikaru reached into the go ke, grabbed a stone and slammed it down on the board -- right in the middle of Akira's territory, openly telling him to come after him.

*And he'd better,* Hikaru thought, *or I may have to hit him.*

A pause. Akira studied the board, dipped his hand in the Go ke . . . Hikaru was just waiting for the stone to come down in a position to answer his challenge, to cut him off, to let him know who was boss.

Instead, Akira placed it in a different group of stones, shoring them up.

*What the HELL?* Hikaru thought. *Who are you? You're not Touya Akira! What have you done with him?*

And at that moment, the buzzer signalling a break went off. Akira rose to his feet and moved swiftly toward the exit, pushing aside other players.

*Oh, no,* Hikaru thought. *You're not going to get away from me that easily. We're going to have a talk about this.* He started to rush for the exit himself, only to get stopped by Waya and Isumi.

"Shindou, what's going on with this game?" Isumi said. "Touya doesn't seem like . . ."

"Sorry," Hikaru said, brushing past them as quickly as he could. "I'll talk to you about it later!"

He knew Akira wouldn't be in the break room -- that's where everyone else would be. Probably not in the lobby, either -- anyone who wasn't in the break room would be down there.

*He couldn't have gone off-premises,* Hikaru thought. *He doesn't do that at break time, unless I'm with him.* He looked up and down the hall, frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of his rival -- but no luck.

*Where the hell would someone go in this building if they wanted to be alone?* he thought.

And then, the answer came to him. More like hit him in the face.

He rounded the corner and headed down the hall, to a wing of playing rooms that weren't being used that day. And in the middle of that hall was the most unique playing room of them all.

Hikaru peeked in the door. Sure enough, he was right. Akira was sitting on one of the two players' cushions in the Room of Profound Darkness.

He slipped in quietly and shut the door behind him. At least the setting would give them some privacy. He'd probably have to talk about things that he did not want the whole Go community knowing about in the next few minutes .

Hikaru walked to the other side of the board. Akira was staring downward at the empty wood, as if mesmerized, and didn't see him.

Then, he said, sharply, "Touya!"

Akira's head snapped up. His eyes narrowed a bit. "What are you doing here?"

"We have to talk," Hikaru said, sitting on the opposite cushion.

"About what?" Akira replied in a cool tone of voice, his eyes not leaving Hikaru's.

"About what's going on in *there*!" Hikaru pointed toward the door. "What's wrong with you today?"

Akira looked away. "I don't think there's anything wrong."

"Oh, yes, there is!" Hikaru leaned over the goban. "That group of stones I have in the lower right corner -- normally, you'd have been all over them like a dog on fresh meat! You barely touched them! I out-and-out invaded your territory, and you didn't blink an eye! And yet, when you played everyone else, you *destroyed* them!"

"If you're trying to get me to reveal my strategy for this game, Shindou," Akira said, leaning over the board as well, "you're mistaken."

"What strategy?" Hikaru leapt to his feet. "That's just it! You *have* no strategy! If I had played like this, you would be yelling at me to take the game more seriously!"

"I have my reasons!" Akira shouted, leaping to his feet as well. He turned and walked toward the corner, facing it with one arm folded across his chest, the other grasping his chin.

There was a pause. Then, Hikaru said, quietly, "It's me, isn't it? It's us."

Akira whirled around so fast that his shoulder-length hair bannered out around his face. "What are you talking about?"

"You can't play me because of what's been happening between us," Hikaru said, walking slowly toward the other boy. "You can't bring yourself to defeat your lover or your boyfriend or whatever the hell we are now in a tournament!"

Akira just stood there, thunderstruck. Shindou knew. He had figured it out. He had to throw him off the track. He clenched his fists and snapped, "You're crazy!"

"And you're not yourself! I don't want this person you are today as my rival *or* my lover!"

"Fine!" Akira started to stalk to the door -- but Hikaru rushed over and blocked his path. "Move, Shindou."

"This conversation isn't over," Hikaru said, spreading out his arms and legs to block the door entirely.

"Oh, yes, it is," Akira said, starting to shove him aside.

"Not until I say this," Hikaru said. He fixed Akira with an icy glare, and said, "I thought I saw the Hand of God in you."

Akira felt like he'd been hit over the head with a blunt object. The very words he'd said to Shindou, after that junior high Go tournament, a seeming eternity ago. The day his hopes had been crushed, his illusion of finally having a true rival his own age shattered.

At that moment, the buzzer sounded again to end the break.

This time, he succeeded in pushing Shindou aside and stalked toward the game room, fists clenched, eyes burning, the words that had just been uttered rolling around in his brain.

*I'll show him,* he thought. *He thinks I'm not capable of finding the Hand of God? I'm more capable than he'll ever be!*

He ran through the game in his head -- he was coming back from a huge deficit, but he could make it up. He'd invade his territories ruthlessly. He'd crush the fortresses Shindou had built and take as many prisoners as he possibly could.

Behind him, Hikaru followed at a much more leisurely pace. He knew that the second half of the game was going to be way different than the first. He was going to have to be on his guard. And he welcomed it like nothing else.

* * *

"Man," Waya said as he and Isumi headed down the elevator, "that was one *strange* game."

"That was the narrowest margin Touya's won by in a long time," Isumi said. "One moku."

"Well, did you see what he was coming back from?" Waya said, leaning against the elevator wall with his arms crossed. "It's a miracle he won at all!"

"It's like he was a different person in the first half and the second," Isumi said as the doors pinged open and they headed toward the main entrance. "The first part, it was like something was bugging him."

"Cheh, what could bother Touya Akira?" Waya said, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked outside. "I don't think you have much to worry about when you're the stuck-up son of a rich Meijin and everybody thinks you're the second coming of Shuusaku."

"I wonder," Isumi said quietly, as they headed off in the direction of the subway.

"About what?"

"About whether he feels he deserves that attention," Isumi said, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Waya said, fishing around in his pocket for the subway fare. "He knows just how good he is, and he lets everyone know it."

"I've never heard him brag," said Isumi as they rounded the corner and walked toward the steps.

"He doesn't have to. It's in his whole attitude."

"Maybe that attitude is a coverup," Isumi said, pulling out his money for the subway and pushing it through the window of the ticket booth.

"For what?" said Waya, shoving in his own money.

"Shindou. I think he senses Shindou catching up to him. That's why he couldn't play at first today."

"They play together all the time!" Waya said as he put his ticket thorugh the slot in the turnstile. "At that Go salon his father owns."

"And that's why he's afraid," Isumi said, putting through his own ticket. "He sees what Shindou is becoming when he plays him at the Go salon."

Waya frowned as they walked toward the tracks. Somehow, this explanation didn't add up. It was *too* cut and dried. Especially with what usually went on between them, the seemingly deep friendship behind the rivalry.

*Wish I could figure all this out soon,* Waya thought, *or my head's going to explode.*

* * *

The boys walked back together to the subway in silence.

They had originally planned to go back to Akira's house after the tournament, since Touya and Akiko Koyou were out of town again. Hikaru wondered if they were still going, or if he should stay on the subway until his own stop.

He got his answer when the train rolled arrived at the station near the Koyou's. Akira stood up, walked toward the door, and then turned and looked at Hikaru, narrowing his eyes just a bit. Hikaru nodded, stood up and followed.

Only when they had gotten to the Koyou house, and Hikaru had settled himself into a living room easy chair, did Akira speak.

"We didn't discuss the game well enough."

Hikaru leaned forward. "I know why we didn't," he said. "Let's discuss it now."

Akira sat in the other easy chair, across from Hikaru, fiddling with his cuff. He wasn't sure how to phrase what was in his head. There were times when words failed him, usually with other people his own age -- but that rarely happened with Shindou.

"You said you couldn't see the Hand of God in me anymore. At the begining of the game, I couldn't see the Hand of God in myself."

Hikaru nodded. "I'd figured that. What happened?"

What *had* happened? Akira didn't even know himself. He just shook his head a bit.

"Come on, something *had* to have happened to cause that. I have *never* seen you like that. You weren't even *playing*, you were just shoving stones anywhere."

Akira stiffened. "I *was* playing!"

"Sure. So why, when I left you a *blatant opening* to capture two of my stones, did you play on the other side of the board instead?"

Akira sat back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling. He tried to calm himself, to turn his thought inward, the way he did when he was about to play.

*Searching for the perfect game within myself is easy,* he thought. *Searching for *feelings* isn't easy at all.*

He suddenly realized why so many Go players lived lives of emotional sterility, avoiding contact with anyone who was not a fellow player, having arranged marriages or not getting married at all. Because playing Go was a hell of a lot easier than *life.*

But he didn't want that emotional sterility. Not anymore. And that's why coming up with an answer to Hikaru's question was vital. They had to get past this if they were going to have a *relationship.*

And then the answer came to him in a flash, like those moments when he suddenly saw the one way out for a group of stones that seemed certain to be taken prisoner.

"I'd forgotten that the person in front of me was *Shindou*, not Hikaru," he said.

Hikaru frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Shindou is my rival, and Hikaru is my lover," Akira said. "And I need them both. Very much."

Hikaru swallowed hard. This was the closest to a confession of *love* Akira had made throughout the course of their relationship. He felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

"Hey, I need you, too," he said. "How the hell am I going to get where I'm going if I don't have *you* to chase after?"

Akira frowned. "You'll never catch up to me."

Hikaru smiled inwardly. He was starting to sound like *Touya* again. Thank the gods.

Akira sighed and looked away. "Do you think we'll be able to *do* this, Shindou? Do you think we'll be able to keep who we are at and away from the Goban separate?"

Hikaru leaned back, crossing his legs and smiling a bit. "You just did."

Akira looked back at him. "Hmm?"

"You called me 'Shindou' when you were talking about Go."

Akira just sat for a moment, frowning a little, one hand touching his chin and the other crossed over his body. He analyzed what Hikaru had just said as if it were the pattern of stones on a board.

*Is it possible a division between the two is already forming in my mind?* he thought. *I *have* to have that division. I have no true rival other than Shindou. And Hikaru . . .*

He knew very well how he felt about *Hikaru*. He loved him.

*I have to have both*, he thought, *or I'll stagnate, and suffocate. I have to make sure that division is clear, right now.*

He suddenly looked up at Hikaru, eyes burning, his "game face." "Let's play. Right now."

Hikaru blinked. He was *not* expecting to hear that. "Touya?"

*Oh, yes, this is *Touya*, Akira thought. "We'll replay that game. The first couple of hands will be the same. From there, it will be different."

Hikaru jumped to his feet. He was pumped. He knew he was going to be facing the *real* Touya Akira now. And oh, was he ready for him. If Akira was going to pull out the big guns, so was he. He not only was going to win this time, he was going to *crush* him.

* * *

"I resign," Hikaru said. No, more like grumbled.

"Thank you for the game," Akira replied in a formal tone of voice, bowing.

"Thank you for the game," Hikaru repeated, bowing as well. He sat up, rubbing the side of his head as he stared at the stones.

"Oh, man! I really slipped up here. I didn't guard those stones *there* close enough.* He pointed at an area at the left of the board, three-quarters of the way down.

"Your attack over *there* was too little, too late, also," Akira said, pointing to a spot toward the top of the board, just right of center. "But over *here,* you showed good form when . . ."

Hikaru settled back into a sitting position, one leg bent in front of him with his folded hands resting on the knee. He thought he'd *had* him this time! Really *had* him! But as Akira's game explanation proceeded, he knew the other boy was right -- he'd been too overconfident *here*, not confident enough *there* . . .

But all things considered, he'd rather have this loss than his near-win of before. Because he had his *rival* back now. And without that rivalry, his Go would be empty, meaningless.

The game had been played in Akira's bedroom, even though the main goban downstairs had been available to them. There had been no question about where they were going to play. This setting was uniquely *theirs.* Akira played his father on the main goban, and other pros who came to the house.

This particular goban had seen no opponent but Shindou Hikaru.

Finally, Akira finished speaking and relaxed, sitting back further on his haunches. *Now I can be at peace about this whole thing,* he thought, *because I played the game I *should* have played.

"Any questions?" he said.

Hikaru stood up and yawned. "Nope. Not unless you have any you want to ask me."

Akira shook his head. He began to stand up as well.

"Well, in that case, I'll be right back." Hikaru left the bedroom, headed for the bathroom.

Akira looked down, studying the board. Shindou actually *had* given him a good run, despite the mistakes. There were a few places where he had really challenged him, dared him to keep up. And Akira had thrown his own challenges right back at him.

He got to his feet and walked around the board, studying it from different angles. *In its own way, a game like this is as intimate as sex,* Akira thought. *Sex is a coming together and intermingling of bodies. This is a coming together and intermingling of *minds.*

And just like he wouldn't let anybody into his body but Hikaru, he wouldn't let anyone this *deeply* into his mind but Shindou. Oh, yes, games with him felt different than games with anyone else. He knew he had to be faster on his mental feet with Shindou, because he had a better chance of figuring him out than anyone else.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of a pair of arms wrapping around his waist from behind and pulling him close.

"Hey," Hikaru said. "Wanna play another game?"

Akira shook his head. "Not right now. Later."

"What do you want to do, then?"

Akira was becoming very aware of the other boy's closeness, his warmth, his scent. And a definite urge to do *something*, all right, began to rise within him.

*Gods, it's incedible how fast these feelings come on!* he thought. *Is it like this for everyone?*

He found himself leaning back, almost subconsciously, rubbing his body a bit against Hikaru's. "We'll think of something."

"I'm thinking of something right now," said Hikaru. He leaned over and flicked his tongue against Akira's neck, the tiniest little touch. It was all the communication they needed.

Akira relaxed back into Hikaru's embrace, tilting his head a bit to the left, leaving the right side of his neck open to the boy. It was an invitation Hikaru was all too eager to take up. He began laying kisses along the flesh, pausing to suck a bit on one spot, then kissing again.

The palm of one hand began to move along Akira's chest, rubbing it in slow circles. Akira found himself letting out low purring sounds, leaning back against his lover.

"I think you'd better get out that futon," Hikaru said, his voice a sexy whisper.

Akira needed no more provocation. He slipped away from the other boy and went to the closet, pulling out the bedding -- and thinking how inconvenient the traditional Japanese way of sleeping was when it came to love.

Hikaru watched impatiently as Akira finished the job . . . it seemed to be taking an eternity. It was like being starving and waiting outside the doors of a restaurant that hadn't opened yet, smelling all the delicious food cooking inside.

He dropped his shirt to the floor, followed by his T-shirt. He couldn't get naked fast enough. He wanted to feel Akira's skin against his, *now*.

When Akira finally tugged the last piece of bedding into place, he turned around to see a gorgeous sight -- Hikaru already fully naked and erect, leaning casually against the desk, a sly smile on his face.

"Well?" Hikaru said in a teasing voice. "Are you going to take yours off as well?"

Akira nearly tore off his buttons in his haste to get them unfastened. His clothing felt like a prison right now, and he couldn't wait to be rid of it. When the last garment was on the floor, he opened his arms to Hikaru.

"All right," he said. "I did what you asked. Now what?"

"This." And Hikaru closed the distance between them swiftly, capturing Akira in his arms and kissing him hard, their mouths opening almost instantly. Akira moaned as he felt his lover's tongue probing into his mouth, and moaned louder as Hikaru reached down and found his manhood, wrapping his fingers around it and begining to stroke.

"Hikaru!" Akira gasped, reaching down and doing the same, grasping Hikaru's erection, brushing his fingers back and forth over the head before starting a rapid up-and-down motion.

Their lips came together again, Akira pushing his tongue into Hikaru's mouth this time, pumping it in and out in an imitation of what he wanted Hikaru to do to his bottom. Their hands moved faster, causing both boys to shudder with pleasure.

Hikaru's mouth broke away from Akira's, and he leaned his head back, letting out a deep, throaty moan, his eyes closed tightly, his mouth open in a gasp.

Akira leaned over, kissing his ear, nibbling the lobe, flicking his tongue along it. "Hikaru," he whispered, "remember when we played that game the last time, and we decided the winner would choose who was on top next time?"

"Uhhhh," Hikaru moaned, only half-hearing Akira through the haze of pleasure flooding his brain.

"I won that game," Akira continued, easing his hand away from the other boy's erection. "And I want you to be on top."

Hikaru dropped his own hand, his eyes snapping open in surprise. This was *not* what he was expecting to hear! "You . . . you do?"

"Yes." Akira eased away from him and lay down on the futon. "I know what it's like to take you already. Now I want to know what it's like to be taken." He propped himself up on his elbows and smiled a bit. "It's like Go. You wouldn't want to play just black or just white every game, would you?"

Hikaru paused, letting this sink in. Then, he suddenly flung himself on the futon next to his lover, wrapping his arms around him, lowering his head to his chest and capturing a nipple in his mouth. Akira leaned his head back and tangled his fingers in Hikaru's hair as the boy sucked . . . oh, yes, Hikaru knew just the right way to do this now, knew when Akira wanted pressure and when he wanted light sucks, tongue dartings or kisses.

Hikaru sucked, then licked, then sucked again, his fingers teasing the other nipple, brushing over it lightly, then squeezing it a little, then brushing again. He could feel Akira writhe in pleasure beneath him, smell his spicy scent, hear his moans . . . it was like a rich, heady wine, rushing right to his head and making him feel dizzy in a wonderful way.

Oh, yes, he wanted to take him. He wanted to thrust himself deep into the other boy's body, feel himself be enveloped. He wanted to do it right now . . . but he had to be careful, take it slow, like Akira had done for him.

Even if he felt like he was going to explode in a million pieces if he didn't do it this moment.

He raised his head and looked around. "Where's the stuff?"

Akira pointed to a small chest of drawers near where his futon was laid out. "Second from the top, all the way at the back."

Hikaru nearly yanked the drawer all the way out in his haste to get to it. When he came back to bed, Akira was on all fours. He frowned -- he didn't want to do it like that. It was like animals rutting. He wanted to take Akira in a way where he could see his face.

"Lie on your back," he told Akira, "the way I did."

"I thought this would be easier for you to . . . well, do this part," Akira said.

Hikaru was going to just push him over -- when a wicked idea occurred to him. He put the lube and condoms down, kneeled on the bed with his back to Akira, and leaned back until his bottom was touching Akira's.

Akira let out a gasp. He'd fantasized about this when he was caressing himself, feeling Hikaru's bottom rubbing against his -- and now it was happening. He began to pump his hips a bit, feeling their skin slde together. Oh, and it was good . . . Hikaru was so firm, yet there was a definite rounded curve, which slid against Akira's own bottton in a sensual way.

Hikaru leaned forward, pushing his bottom harder against Akira's, rubbing his hips faster. He found himself panting, each brush of skin on skin bringing a wave of slow warmth rolling over him.

*Oh, gods, I wish we could penetrate each other at the same time,* he thought. *I wish I could take him and be taken at once." He began to push back hard, moving his hips in a slow grind, and both boys let out long, low sounds of pleasure.

Hikaru grabbed for the tube and squeezed lube onto a finger. Now would be the perfect time to do this, when Akira was relaxed and in pleasure. He turned around, quickly, and parted Akira's bottom with his unlubed hand, probing for his goal.

When he found it, he massaged the little hole gently, the way Akira had done for him. Bit by bit, it started to open and let him in.

Once Hikaru had his finger in a bit, his first impression was he was surprised how soft it was. He wasn't quite sure of what to expect, but he didn't think it would be quite like this. And it was tight, very tight -- that he *was* expecting.

He pushed in, slowly, leaning over and running his tongue along the length of Akira's spine, starting at his hips and ending at his neck. He nibbled at the nape as his finger probed further, then began a gentle thrust.

*He's not yelling out or pulling away from me, so I must be doing something right,* Hikaru thought. And a loud moan confirmed that he was, indeed, succeeding.

He pulled his finger out and looked around frantically -- oh, gods, what could he wipe it off with? He spotted a box of tissues and grabbed at them like a life preserver, then reached for the tube of lubricant again.

Akira gasped as he felt two fingers start to slide into him. He'd concealed the fact that he'd felt pain at first when the first finger went in, and it was a bit harder to conceal it now. But he didn't want Hikaru to stop. Because the pain was going to be followed by --

When the wave of pleasure broke over him, he clutched the sheets, groaning, his whole body shuddering. For a moment, he thought that he had come before Hikaru even had a chance to get inside him.

He felt Hikaru pause in his thrusting. "Akira? Are you all right?"

Akira raised his head and looked behind him. "I'm fine. I think I'm ready."

Hikaru slid out his fingers and started to wipe them off. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, definitely." Akira rolled on his back and spread his legs, lifting his hips a bit, his heart hammering in anticipation.

Hikaru ripped the condom package open, pulling out its contents and frowning at them -- how the hell was he supposed to get this thing on? It looked like it was designed to fit over a pencil! He stretched it over the head, gingerly, hoping the damn thing wouldn't constrict and squeeze the life out of him -- that would put an end to their passion pretty quickly!

Slowly, he rolled it down his erection, amazed at how easy it was. He grabbed for the tube and lubed himself, then lubed himself again, before putting some at Akira's opening.

He lay over his lover and positioned himself. Akira lifted his hips more, wiggling around, helping him find the right angle.

"You really sure?" he said.

Akira just nodded.

Hikaru bent and kissed his lips, then began to push forward . . . this wasn't as easy as getting his fingers in. Something seemed to be resisting him. He pushed some more, harder . . .

And then, Akira's sheath was enveloping him, bit by bit, and he fought the urge to just thrust in, deep and hard and fast.

It was incredible. It was beyond his wildest dreams. It was tight and hot and just pure pleasure.

He opened his eyes and looked at Akira's face. His lover had his eyes tightly closed, his jaw set.

*It's probably hurting him right now,* Hikaru thought, *like it hurt me at first.* He pushed it with the utmost of care, as if he were moving through a narrow aisle of shelves lined with fine china.

He paused when he got in so far, looking for a change in his lover's expression. "You okay?" he said.

Akira opened his eyes and looked up at him. "Yes. Don't stop."

So Hikaru pulled his hips back, slowly, slowly, then pushed in, just as slowly. Had to show restraint, had to be careful, had to . . .

"Hikaru?"

Hikaru's eyes snapped open again. "Yeah?"

"You can *make love to me* now."

"Oh." Hikaru began to thrust his hips faster, and almost instantly, he was throwing back his head, letting out a low, throaty groan . . . oh, yes, this is what he wanted, every plunge into Akira's depths was brining another shudder of luscious sensation through every bit of him.

Akira wrapped his arms and legs around Hikaru, raising his hips a bit more . . . he wanted Hikaru to hit his sweet spot with his manhood, the way he'd hit it with his fingers a few moments before. He moved a bit to the right, a bit to the left, as little ripples of pleasure began running through his body.

He wanted more than little ripples. He wanted a tsunami.

Hikaru thrust faster, harder, deeper, wanting to fill Akira completely, possess him totally, lose himself in that tight heat. He felt himself getting close, a hot pressure was starting to build in his core and get bigger and bigger, threatening to envelop him, to drive him mad in a gorgeous way.

He heard Akira's moans, felt his hot breath as his lover buried his face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, felt his hips churn and writhe. Hikaru churned and writhed with him, changing the angle of his thrust a bit --

And then, Akira felt it. Like before, but stronger, harder. The first contact with his sweet spot shot through him like lighting. The second made him tense up and moan, and the third . . .

Akira let out a loud yell as his whole body shook, as that tsunami broke over him in pulse after pulse of electric heat, as his hips rose off the bed again and again.

Hikaru felt Akira start to throb all around him, squeezing him, and it set off an explosion deep within his soul, and he cried out Akira's name as one delicioius spasm after another wracked him in waves of ecstacy.

Finally, he collapsed atop Akira, both boys panting and trembling.

Hikaru raised his head and brushed the hair out of Akira's eyes. He was so beautiful, his face still flushed with their passion, his lips slightly parted and moist.

Akira opened his eyes and looked at him. They just gazed at each other for a moment, then kissed, softly.

"You felt incredible," Hikaru said.

"You feel incredible, too," Akira said, as he shifted a bit. "Hikaru . . . did you bring something to clean up with?"

"GHAAA! I knew I forgot something!" Hikaru started to rush off to the bathroom, then came back, then headed for the bathroom again, tissue-wrapped used condom in hand.

The washcloths he came back with weren't quite wrung out enough, and they dripped a little water onto Akira's futon, but he didn't mind. It was well worth a couple of water spots in his bedding.

Once he was done, the boys lay side by side, wrapping their arms around each other. Akira felt a bit dazed, sleepy, and content. More content, he realized, than he'd ever felt in his life.

And before he knew it, words were tumbling out of his mouth, almost by their own accord. "I love you, Shindou Hikaru."

Hikaru lifted his head, blinking. "What did you say?"

*Oh, gods,* Akira thought. *I didn't mean to do that! No, I meant it, but I didn't mean to *say* it!*

"I . . . I . . ."

"You said you love me, didn't you?"

Now Akira felt like a deer caught in the headlights, an emotion he wasn't very used to. Words were *definitely* failing him now. All he could do was look away.

"Hey, it's okay," Hikaru said. "Because I love you, too." He hadn't known he was going to say the words before he did, but now that they were out, he knew that every monosyllable of them was true.

Akira turned his head, quickly, hair swishing on the pillow. "You do?"

"Yes." Hikaru bent over and kissed Akira's lips, tenderly.

Akira wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, thinking that he was the happiest person in the world right now. And he'd always thought the greatest joy in his life would be finding the Hand of God.

Well, he could still have that joy, as well, someday. And he'd experirence *that* joy with Shindou, as well.

They stayed that way for a moment that seemed timeless, just holding each other, listening to the other's breathing, feeling his heartbeat.

Then, Hikaru eased away and propped himself up on his hand, resting his elbow on the pillow. "You said earlier you wanted to play another game."

Akira sat up. "We haven't cleared the last one away yet."

"Well, we'd better do it now." Hikaru got out of bed and got to his feet. "Because the way I'm feeling right now, I know I can beat you!"

Akira leapt out of bed. "You're not going to beat me! I won't allow it!"

"We'll see about that," Hikaru said, reaching for his underwear. He pulled that on and his T-shirt -- all he felt he needed right now. He had a hunch they'd be coming off again after the game, anyway.

"I won't lose to you, Shindou!" Akira grabbed for his yukata, tying it over his body and busying himself picking up the stones and putting them back in their go kes.

*From lover to rival again within minutes,* Akira thought. He remembered that long-ago conversation, when his father told him that finding the rival of his life would be like finding the love of his life.

*My father never dreamed*, he thought, *that my lover and my rival would be one and the same person.*


AUTHOR'S NOTES

The sites that Akira found while doing his research are pretty much what I found when I followed links on sexuality in Yahoo -- I used that particular site for my research because I know they have a Yahoo!Japan, and I figured it would work pretty much like our own Yahoo! And my own reaction was pretty much the same as Akira's -- in other words, O_O.

Many, many thanks to Steve Savage and Aishuu for their invaluable input. Thanks also to my Go Go Neko friends and to everyone who commented on Balance Part 1 -- the response to that ic overwhelmed me! There's more "Balance" to come after this!

Hikaru no Go is property of Yumi Hotta, Takeshi Obata and Shueisha. These characters ain't mine, I'm just borrowing them for a little while.