Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ You Need To Get Out More, Touya! ( Chapter 1 )

Hikaru paused as he was about to step out the door to go to the park. The phone was ringing. And no one else was home to answer it.

 

Heaving a sigh, he darted inside and slammed the door behind him, skidding around the corner in an effort to reach the phone before the caller gave up. It might be his mother calling, and she always become frantic if he didn't answer, even though she knew he hated being indoors most of the time.

 

He grabbed the phone off of the kitchen wall, juggling the receiver as he nearly dropped it twice, and managed to push it up to his ear, half-tangled in the cord. “Hello??” he answered breathlessly.

 

There was a long pause on the other end, and then a familiar voice said, “Shindou?” somewhat hesitantly.

 

Hikaru sighed, flopping into a chair at the kitchen table. Touya. Touya never called his house. “Yeah, what's up?”

 

There was silent disapproval at his casual language before Touya responded. “Where are you?”

 

Hikaru arched his brows in surprise. Was that a slightly accusatory tone? Was that attitude from Touya Akira? He hadn't even made any stupid moves this time!

 

“Err…home? Where do you think?”

 

“But you always come here on Saturdays!” Touya burst out.

 

Hikaru leaned back in the chair and rolled his eyes, twining the cord around his hand. So that's what this was about. Touya was angry that he wasn't going to spend the day at the Go salon as usual.

 

“Well, I have plans today,” he muttered somewhat defensively.

 

“Plans? What plans? What other plans could there be? Shindou, you know how important it is to keep playing! You need to hone your skills if you're ever going to attain a title! Your responsibility as a ranking player in the world of Go—“ Touya was gathering strength, working up to a spectacular rant.

 

“Oh for the love of god, Touya! Everything cannot be Go! There are some days that I just need a break!” Hikaru winced at how sharp his tone was, but it was too late to soften it now.

 

Touya was silent for a long moment. “Where are you going?” the other boy asked quietly. Almost dejectedly.

 

Hikaru had a pang of remorse. Poor Touya had nothing better to do than plan Go all day every day at his father's salon. He was Touya's only friend, but even so, when they were together, it was always Go, Go, Go.

 

He straightened suddenly as he had a mini-epiphany - unfortunately leaning back too far in the chair and falling over. As he crashed to the floor, the phone went skittering off, banging into the base of the counter, and he barely missed slamming his head into the tile.

 

He lay there for a moment, trying to get the wind back that had been knocked out of him, and faintly heard Touya's voice from the phone. He struggled to crawl over to it and picked the receiver up again, shaking his head.

 

“…aru? Hikaru!!” Touya sounded frantic.

 

“Uhh…ouch, dammit…I'm right here, Touya, I just fell over.”

 

There was a sigh of relief. “You see what happens, Shindou? You probably did something silly like leaning back in the chair, didn't you?”

 

He wasn't going to dignify that question with a response. “So…my friends and I are going to an arcade this afternoon to play some video games, and they have a pool table there, too. It's just going to be Waya and Isumi, so…you wanna go?”

 

“W-what?” Touya came back with, sounding as if Hikaru had asked him to set fire to a Go board.

 

“Do you want to go? I mean, I know it's probably not something you're used to doing, but I think you need to forget about Go for five minutes, too.”

 

Touya was silent for a long moment. “I…I don't know, Hikaru. I've never really…I mean, I don't `go out' and do things like that.”

 

Hikaru rolled his eyes again, slowly getting up off of the floor and righting the chair that had spilled him. He was going to have some bruises. “I know, so that's why you need to. Come on, you can make sure I don't stay out too late, right? Just agree to something for once without having to analyze every possible strategy and outcome, Touya!”

 

Hikaru's eyes darted around the room as he listened to every nuance of Touya's response, trying to read the other boy's mind and outmaneuver him. Practically impossible with Touya Akira. He wasn't stupid himself, but Touya was brilliant. And…stiff. And way too grown up for his own good.

 

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to do it just once.” Touya almost sounded suspicious, as if Hikaru had some hidden trap laid for him.

 

Hikaru smiled as he paced. “Great! I just got my car back from the shop, so I'll pick you up at 5:00. Waya and Isumi will meet us at the arcade. Cool?”

 

“Uh…yes. `Cool'.” Touya sounded as if he was a foreigner trying to learn a new language.

 

Hikaru laughed. “Okay, see you then!” He hung up the receiver, not waiting for Touya to reconsider or say anything else.

 

Rubbing his aching elbow, he recalled that Touya had been shouting `Hikaru' when he thought Hikaru had been seriously injured. Trying to get his attention? Or did Touya not even realize?

 

He shook his head and ran upstairs to make himself more presentable. He couldn't very well face Touya Akira all disheveled. Touya was critical enough as it was!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akira fidgeted in his living room, peeking through the wooden blinds every five seconds to see if Shindou had arrived. He would rather not have the other boy come in to mingle with his parents, even though they'd already met Shindou.

 

Fortunately his father was in his study analyzing the last game he had played, and his mother was doing the laundry, which kept her in the back of the house. He was blessedly alone for the time being.

 

The sound of an engine from outside made him peek again, and he saw a vehicle pull up. It had to be Shindou. Trying to calm the near-panic racketing through his chest, he carefully let himself out, locking the door behind him. He tried to walk at a normal pace across the grass towards Shindou's ridiculously sporty yellow car. When had the other boy purchased a car, anyway?

 

The tinted window rolled down and there was Shindou's silly face, grinning away at him. The other boy's bleached bangs were blown by the wind, but the rest of his hair was held back in part by a pair of sunglasses perched atop his head.

 

“Yo, Touya! Jump on in!” Shindou's eyes scanned his body, brows slowly drawing down. “Hey, can't you ever dress down?”

 

Akira stiffened, moving around to get in on the passenger side. “I do have an image to uphold. Besides, I dislike the movement of casual clothing, and the way it hangs. It feels…unclean.”

 

Shindou had put his sunglasses back on, and turned to regard Akira with an arched brow. “If you say so. Anyway, we're gonna have fun, so un-stick yourself!”

 

“I—“ he began indignantly.

 

Shindou turned away from him, putting the car in gear, and slipped out of the driveway like a fish. Within half a second, they were racing down the road.

 

Akira gripped the seat like a lifeline. “Shindou! Slow down!”

 

Shindou tipped a swift, dazzling smile at him, one arm casually resting up on the door of the vehicle, then turned his face back towards the road.

 

Akira scowled at this apparent disregard for his opinion, and not to mention safety, but as the wind whipped through his hair, he slowly started to relax against his will.

 

He glanced at Shindou out of the corner of his eye. The other pro was dressed in something Akira had never seen before - a long-sleeved fishnet shirt, with a red tank top underneath it. Red, not yellow? Shocking! He had never thought he'd see the day. Shindou was also wearing a pair of ripped up jeans.

 

Akira grimaced. The other boy's fashion sense was still atrocious. But as they drove on in silence, he found himself grudgingly admitting that he had always thought that Shindou Hikaru was…cool. Not that he'd ever admit any such thing out loud, but privately he could.

 

“Automatic?” he asked quietly as he glanced at the shifter.

 

“What?” Shindou asked loudly, leaning slightly towards him, obviously unable to hear him over the wind.

 

Akira leaned over to speak into Shindou's ear, the boy's bleached bangs brushing his cheek. The other pro's hair smelled nice. It annoyed him. Shindou would smell pretty. “Automatic?”

 

Shindou leaned away again, nodding. “Yeah, I can't drive stick!”

 

“What make and model?” he yelled over the wind. Yelling did not come naturally to him.

 

“Toyota Spy~der~!” Shindou sang, grinning at the road ahead of him.

 

Juvenile. But Akira found himself smiling against his will. Shindou loved life, and seemed to find joy in the smallest of things.

 

The other pro reached up to his visor and pulled a cd out of one of its pockets, slipping it into the player.

 

Akira gritted his teeth, expecting something grating, but was pleasantly surprised to hear classical music issue forth from the speakers. It was even at a sane volume.

 

Shindou laughed, as if he could read Akira's mind. “Yeah, you were thinking I'd blast you with Asian Kung-Fu, weren't you, Touya?”

 

Touya smirked. “Well, the thought had crossed my mind.” Most of the music Shindou listened to gave him a headache. “So you enjoy classical music?”

 

The other boy laughed again, shaking his head vehemently in the negative.

 

But then…had Shindou purchased the music just for him? Listening to music he most definitely disliked just for Akira? Somehow he hadn't thought Shindou was capable of such consideration. It made him doubt his assessment of the other boy up to this point. Had Shindou grown up just a bit?

 

Akira frowned out the window, staring at the clubs and shops they passed, deep in thought.

 

Before he knew it, Shindou was putting the windows up and they were pulling into the parking lot of the arcade. There was a club adjacent to the arcade, the music clearly audible outside. Too many people were loitering in the parking lot and out front, making Akira's lip curl and his anxiety climb.

 

But Shindou leapt right out of the car and came around to his side, waiting on him, hands on his hips. Were those silver bracelets that the other pro was wearing?

 

It was embarrassing, to say the least. He watched everyone watching Shindou for a moment, surprised to find that the other boy drew everyone's interest in the same way that Akira's was drawn, then forced himself reluctantly out of the car, blushing at the attention.

 

Shindou sat there grinning at him for a moment from behind his shades, and Akira frowned up at the other boy. “Take off those sunglasses - you won't need them in the arcade.”

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Shindou dismissed, taking them off and flipping them neatly so that they were folded and hanging from the front of his fishnet shirt.

 

Shindou started to walk and Akira almost choked when he noticed how scandalous the ripped jeans were, now that he could actually see them. There were wide, gaping tears in the fabric, seemingly strategically placed to show the most without actually revealing anything. The worst of it was that there was a tear on each side just below the seat of the pants, exposing the curve of Shindou's backside at random moments as he walked.

 

“Oh my god, Shindou!” he exclaimed under his breath, glancing sharply away. Could he really bear being seen with someone that was dressed like this??

 

“Eh?” Shindou asked, half-turning with that innocent, beaming look.

 

“Never mind…just…just go. I'm following you.” For some unknown reason! His logic was short-circuiting at the very notion that he would follow someone like Shindou anywhere, much less dressed like that.

 

Akira did his best to ignore the people outside of the club as they scanned he and Shindou repeatedly, but the other boy seemed completely unfazed. He kept his gaze down, locked on the other pro's chunky little black boots.

 

As they entered the arcade, Akira was not only assaulted with video game noise, but also the music of a jukebox blasting horrid rock music somewhere, as well. Lasers…explosions…bad music. He nearly turned around and left again, but Shindou's arm snaked back and grabbed his sleeve, anchoring him as if the other pro sensed that he was about to bolt.

 

“I see them! Come on, Touya.” Shindou released him and trotted forward, weaving around people and pool tables towards his friends.

 

Touya sighed through clenched teeth and hurried to follow Shindou, wondering why he'd come. He hated the music…he really hated the music. And there were way too many people.

 

Waya and Isumi were focusing intently on some sort of fighting game. Shindou ran up behind them, slinging an arm around the neck of each, and immediately started crowing, “Fatal strike, fatal strike!”

 

Waya shrugged him off. “Lay off, Hikaru, I was just about to nail Isumi!! Now you've messed me up!”

 

Hikaru jumped up and down a couple times, hanging on Isumi. “Get him, get him, get him!”

 

Akira shifted from foot to foot, uncertain what to do now that Shindou had attached himself to his friends as if they were some sort of homing beacon to him.

 

He glanced at Waya and Isumi's clothing, then at his own. They looked clubby and he looked…well, like himself. He had attempted to dress down. He'd spent hours trying things on, trying to ascertain what looked normal to them. He'd settled on a pair of black slacks and a button-down, long-sleeved green shirt. He couldn't dress like they did.

 

A sudden smack and string of curses brought his head up suddenly. Waya had slammed a fist down on the game pad. Apparently the game had ended, and Waya was the loser.

 

“Dammit, I almost had him!” Waya exclaimed, glaring at Shindou.

 

“Come ooonnn, Waya, you know Isumi has a better grasp of tactics than you do!” Shindou crooned, smiling in a way that did nothing to soothe Waya's temper.

 

“You little bastard!” Waya barked, chasing Shindou around Isumi.

 

“Help, help, help! Waya is killing me!”

 

Akira glanced around, clearing his throat.

 

As if it was a signal, Shindou veered towards him and ducked behind him, hands rising to grip his shoulders from behind. “Ha, try to get past Touya!” Shindou crowed triumphantly.

 

Akira cringed at the volume and the manhandling of his person, but tolerated it with barely concealed discomfort.

 

Waya came to a screeching halt as he saw Akira. “Hikaru…you brought Touya?”

 

Akira tensed, sensing Waya's vague dislike of him manifesting itself once again.

 

“Sure, why not?” Shindou replied brightly, voice too close to Akira's ear.

 

Isumi was looking now, too. “Waya…”

 

Waya put one hand on his hip, tilting his head. “But Hikaru…isn't he your rival?”

 

“Well, yeah, but we're friends, and he needs to do something besides play Go.”

 

Akira held back a wince. Great, tell them what they already know.

 

“I like playing Go,” Akira ground out.

 

“Of course you do,” Shindou murmured, lightly squeezing his shoulders, “but you have to get away sometimes, Touya.”

 

Waya signed and threw back his head, as if he couldn't imagine a bigger drag on his evening. “Hikaaaaruu…Touya isn't the type of person to have fun.”

 

Akira felt his features drawing into a tense frown again and tried to control it. He hated how being around other people made him feel. Go was the only safe thing.

 

Shindou made a disapproving noise and came out of hiding. “Touya and I are going to play a game. Come on, Touya.” Shindou tilted another one of those warm, open smiles at him, and he reluctantly followed.

 

“What are we going to play?” he made himself ask.

 

“The same thing Waya and Isumi were playing. I bet it's the easiest thing in here for you.”

 

Fabulous. Just…wonderful.

 

He stared down at the buttons, then looked to see what Shindou was pressing.

 

“You just press the green button to join for two players, then select your character, and press the green button again. If you choose this character, pushing up on the control stick and hitting the red button twice will make him do his special move…”

 

Akira felt his eyes glazing over. There was no way he would be able to do this.

 

“…and if you choose this character, you have to press up, up, right, and then tap the green button twice and the red once, and that will make her break free from an opponent and go right into her finishing move…”

 

Akira surreptitiously raised his hand to cover his eyes, trying to ignore the beginnings of a headache stabbing behind his eyes.

 

“Ready?” Shindou chirped.

 

Akira dropped his hand, frowning into vibrant, expectant green eyes. He could see Waya and Isumi off to the side, and Waya was snickering and making low comments to Isumi, probably about him. “Yes.”

 

“GO!” Shindou yelled, pounding away at the buttons.

 

Akira tried, he truly did, but in a matter of moments his character's life meter had dropped until it was in the red. Try as he might, he could not manage to get it to perform the correct moves or move fast enough to avoid Shindou's character. He felt his frustration mounting. In a sudden flurry of blades and explosions, it was over.

 

“What happened?” Akira demanded, scanning the screen and glancing at the buttons.

 

Shindou howled with joy and jumped several times again. “I won! That was my special! Fatal strike, fatal strike!”

 

“Stop jumping, Shindou!! You are not a rabbit, nor are you a child. You're 17 years old!” Akira clenched his fists, feeling almost angry.

 

Shindou paused in his victory posturing, turning to look at Akira with somber eyes. “I'm sorry, Touya. You're new at this, and that wasn't very nice of me.”

 

Akira felt himself deflating, unable to be upset with Shindou for very long. “Fine, then.”

 

“It'll be okay, let's play pool.”

 

Akira felt like screaming and running away right that instant. He wasn't certain that he could endure any more `fun'. But Shindou was behind him, pushing him towards a pool table.

 

“Wayaaa, Isumi, come on! Let's play!”

 

Waya threw up his hands and strutted over, Isumi trailing behind him like an echo or a part of him.

 

Akira wondered again exactly what the little beast had been saying about him.

 

Shindou began explaining this new game to him, and it made more sense than the video game, at least. This was a skill that could be learned. As far as he was concerned, the video game required no skill, but a great deal of speed and mindless instinct to master. It figured that Shindou would be good at it.

 

He wasn't being fair to Shindou, however…he was simply frustrated with this whole `fun' nightmare. And he couldn't go home until the other boy took him home.
”'Kay?” Shindou ended with, smiling engagingly at Akira as if trying to coax a stubborn pet to eat.

 

“Hmm.”

 

Shindou went first, taking a wide stance and leaning forward to take his shot. As he did so, the tears in the jeans gaped, and Akira was able to see the beginning of the curve of the other boy's bottom…

 

Akira flinched, looking away sharply. Why on earth would anyone wear something so…so vulgar? He stole another glance, unable to help himself, just as he would when passing an accident. A horrible accident.

 

It was terribly…fascinating, for some reason. And it made him feel anxious. Feeling his mouth go dry, he glanced away, unable to understand - and straight into Waya's eyes.

Waya arched a brow at him, giving him a peculiar, critical look. The obnoxious boy glanced at Hikaru's show, then back at Akira, both brows up now. Waya opened his mouth as if to say something, but was thankfully elbowed into silence by Isumi.

 

Shindou straightened, turning to look for Akira. “Did you watch? That wasn't so hard, right?”

 

“Oh yeah, he was watching,” Waya muttered under his breath.

 

Isumi's eyes narrowed, and he slapped the other boy's side.

 

“Owww, Isumi! What the hell was that for??” Waya snapped, turning on his companion.

 

Shindou frowned a little, as if unable to comprehend the display, and waved Akira forward. “Come on, try it.”

 

Akira picked up his pool cue and examined the table, trying to figure the appropriate angle for the most successful shot. He leaned forward, took aim…and completely missed.

 

Waya snickered, strutting around to the other side of the table. “Come on, Touya, it's easy. It doesn't require all of that high level thinking that you're so good at. Just hit the ball!” Waya sneered at him. “Go ahead and try that one again.”

 

Touya narrowed his eyes at the wretched boy, taking aim more carefully. He managed to hit the white ball this time, but it rolled off to the side, not hitting any of the other balls.

 

Waya howled with laughter, slapping his leg. “I guess there's no help for it! I'll have to show you how it's done.” Waya took his shot effortlessly, sinking the blue ball.

 

Isumi shook his head and came forward, quietly taking his turn. The balls scattered across the table and a yellow ball disappeared into the corner pocket.

 

Akira turned to look for Shindou - and found that a woman had cornered the other pro and was chatting animatedly at him.

 

“Shindou! Your turn!” Waya called.

 

Shindou seemed embarrassed to excuse himself to the woman, but came back to the table immediately. “Whew, that was rough,” he murmured.

 

Akira blinked, wondering how to interpret that statement. Did the blond-banged boy want to stay with the woman? Or was he glad to escape?

 

Akira glanced away before Shindou began to bend over, not wanting to duplicate the earlier scene. He glanced surreptitiously at Waya, who seemed to be distracted by Isumi, then stole another look at Shindou. Thankfully he had a side view this time, and was able to see the intent look upon the other boy's face. Almost like his Go face, but less focused.

 

Shindou took his shot, then moved around the table to Akira, smiling brightly. “See? Things are getting better already. Come on, let's go get something to drink.”

 

Akira started to follow Shindou around the table, opening his mouth to comment, maybe even to agree, but suddenly something hit him in the stomach, knocking all the breath out of him. He sank to the floor, dazed.

 

Vaguely, he heard Waya say, “Oops! I didn't see him there.”

 

When he had come back to his senses, he was on the floor, almost in Shindou's arms. The other boy was shaking him gently. “Hey, are you alright? Waya accidentally hit you when he was taking his shot.” Green eyes urgently searched his face, as if checking to make certain that he was still conscious and retained some brain function.

 

Akira stared mutely, certain that he had never seen Shindou this close before. The green of his irises was brilliant, flecked with little bits of jade color. Without a stupid look on his face…Shindou was…pretty. That earnest look…

 

“Touya Akira!” Shindou exclaimed, holding Akira closer.

 

Seeing that the other pro was close to tears, he shook his head. “I'm…okay.”

 

Waya was trying to stifle laughter while Isumi chastised him.

 

Shindou turned a little to look at Waya. “Waya, stop it! He could have been really hurt for all you know!” Shindou actually sounded angry, his voice as stern as Akira had ever heard it.

 

The pounding music combined with the noise of humanity and video games crammed into too small space was making him nauseous. No doubt the blow to his stomach was no small part of his nausea. Feeling weak, he leaned into Shindou just a little. For some reason, he felt as if the other boy was the safest thing here, maybe even slightly reliable.

 

Shindou's arms tightened around him in response. “Come on, we'll take you home. I'm very sorry that you've had such a bad time, Touya.”