Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ The Wrong Way ( Chapter 13 )

Akira wished he had more of Hikaru around him. But all he had were the games they had played and the voice sample on his palm pilot. Somehow he didn't have any photos of the other boy. It amazed him that, despite their closeness these past several years, he did not have notes from Hikaru, or even a photograph of the two of them.

 

It was something that he would rectify as soon as he escaped confinement. If his father ever allowed him to leave the house again.

 

Without his phone, he had no idea if Hikaru had attempted to get in touch with him after that first call, or if the other boy was okay. It had been three days, and he was on the verge of sneaking out through his window.

 

Suddenly, something thumped against the side of the house to the right of his window, scaring the life out of him. He leapt out of his desk chair, moving to look cautiously out of the window.

 

Hikaru was perched on top of the wall surrounding their yard, a baseball in his hand. He waved as he spotted Akira at the window.

 

Akira opened the window, tense and anxious. “Hikaru!” he called softly. “What are you doing here!”

 

“You wouldn't answer,” his rival replied, expression pinched and unhappy.

 

“I couldn't - father has my cell. I'm very sorry. I'm grounded.”

 

Hikaru looked indignant. “Are you serious? Why!”

 

“Shh! Keep it down. Because of what you told Miho! She went to my parents and told them everything.”

 

The other pro gave him a shocked look. “I can't believe she did that.”

 

“Yes, well…hold on, I need to check on my parents.” It wouldn't do for his mother to hear something and find out he was talking to Hikaru.

 

Akira stealthily slipped out of his room, moving down the stairs as silently as possible. He knew that his father was gone until late this evening, but his mother would be sure to be home.

 

He reached the dining room without hearing anyone else, and noticed a note on the table. Akira scanned it quickly, and felt an overwhelming surge of hope. His mother had gone shopping for the day. He was alone!

 

Akira ran outside and to the side of the house, finding Hikaru. “They're actually gone. Come down and come in, quickly! We should be safe for a few hours, at least.”

 

Hikaru gave him a pained smile and hopped down off of the wall. “So you do want to talk to me? Even after all the trouble I've gotten you into?”

 

Akira paused, meeting Hikaru's sad eyes. “Of course. We need to talk, though.”

 

He led Hikaru back into the house and up the stairs to his room, unable to believe that his parents had actually left him alone for the day.

 

“So your father has your cell phone?”

 

“Yes.” He closed the door of his room behind them, just to be safe.

 

“Great. That means he must have listened to all the messages I left for you.” Hikaru's tone was sarcastic and disgruntled.

 

Akira froze, turning to face the other boy. “What did you say…Hikaru?”

 

His friend looked away, blushing a little. “I was…upset. I thought it was you that had hung up on me a few times, and I…I apologized a lot. I was…desperate to talk to you. I might have been…a little distraught.”

 

“Hikaru…did you say anything…unusual?” Akira had a sinking feeling that things would just get worse where the two of them were concerned.

 

“Ahh…just that I care about you. That you mean more to me than anyone. You know, that sort of thing.” The blush had deepened, and Hikaru couldn't seem to bring himself to look at Akira.

 

Akira sighed, sitting down on his bed. “God, Hikaru! Why do you do this to me? That's just going to make things worse.”

 

Hikaru looked at him then, eyes flashing. “But I was afraid, Akira! I was afraid that you were never going to talk to me again, that we'd never see each other again…there's nothing worse than that!”

 

He bit his lip, recalling what his father and Miho had said. Shindou has feelings for you. Though Hikaru seemed largely unaware of the fact, it was staring Akira in the face at this very moment.

 

But how could he bring that sort of thing up? And now, of all times? Hikaru looked like hell, as if the other boy hadn't slept or had anything decent to eat in days.

 

“Are you okay, Hikaru? You don't look so good.”

 

Hikaru laughed a little, running a hand through his bangs. “Not so good? Looking a little sickly, am I? Amari seems to think that I look good enough. She won't leave me alone.”

 

“I didn't mean it that way, Hikaru. Is she still bothering you?” He studied Hikaru carefully, attempting to catch all the nuances of his friend's responses.

 

Hikaru's lips thinned, expression turning sour. “Oh yes, yes she is. She's desperate for sex or something.” The other pro sat down on the bed beside Akira.

 

“You said that wasn't so bad, didn't you?” he asked. He couldn't help it, even though he knew Hikaru had been under duress last time, lying through that bright smile.

 

The bleach-banged boy cringed, slanting Akira a betrayed look. “It was horrible. I feel traumatized every time she touches me. She tried to make me touch her, and I couldn't bear it. I don't want it, Akira. I hate it. I'm sick, aren't I?” Hikaru burst into slightly crazed, hysterical laughter, hiding his face in his hands.

 

Akira remained motionless, shocked. Uncertain of what to do. He wanted to hold the other boy, but he knew that would just invite more misplaced affection from Hikaru. If he added the way his friend behaved towards him to these new confessions, what his father had said was correct. Hikaru probably did have unnatural yearnings towards him.

 

“What about the other girls?” he prodded gently.

 

Hikaru's mouth curved into a strange, too-wide grin, though the upper part of his face was still hidden by his hands. “I don't want them, either. I can tolerate the kissing, but the rest of it…I don't want any of it.”

 

This was contrary to all of Hikaru's previous bravado and boasting. “Then who do you want?” Akira asked softly, reaching out to lightly rest his hand on the back of Hikaru's exposed neck.

 

Even though touching Hikaru was unkind and provocative, he had to know.

 

The other boy shivered. “I don't…don't…”

 

“Why do you say you're sick?” Akira murmured.

 

“Be-because…” Hikaru's voice was a whisper.

 

Akira moved his fingers in a stroking motion where they rested on the back of Hikaru's warm neck. “Go on…”

 

The other boy shivered again and suddenly lifted his head, showing Akira frightened and needing eyes. “I can't…”

 

“Who do you want? Why do you say you're sick?” Akira leaned closer, feeling drawn by something in Hikaru's deep, desperate green eyes.

 

Hikaru closed his eyes, lips trembling, as though he were trying to save himself from being confronted by something, or shut something out. “Akira…I wanted to be honest…but maybe I should…go…” Hikaru's brows were drawn down in what seemed to Akira a tormented and longing expression.

 

Saved…Hikaru needed to be saved from something. He could sense it. Hikaru was drowning. He wanted to save him, no matter what it cost.

 

“Don't cry, Hikaru…” Akira whispered.

 

Without quite realizing what was happening, he found that his lips were pressed against Hikaru's, his hands cupping the other boy's face as reverently as they would have cupped a handful of Go stones that Shusaku himself had touched.

 

Hikaru's eyes opened wide with shock, staring into his.

 

The logic in his mind screamed at him, asking him what he thought he was doing when he had been prepared to guide Hikaru down the correct path, that he'd been set to push the other boy away the next time he was kissed by him. But he was the one kissing Hikaru.

 

When they were like this, his heart wasn't aching. Actually, it pained him in an entirely different way, but it was a good way.

 

Hikaru gasped into his mouth, startled eyes sliding shut, hands coming up to hover near Akira's face before finally sliding into his hair.

 

Akira closed his eyes tightly at the feeling, Hikaru's hands in his hair making his scalp and his entire body tingle alarmingly. He leaned back until he was lying down, pulling his friend with him.

 

Wrapping his arms around Hikaru, he realized and acknowledged briefly in the back of his mind that this felt right. And it terrified him more than anything.

 

Hikaru broke free, breathing hard, his cheeks deeply flushed. “Akira…what…are you trying to do to me?” The bleach-banged boy seemed full of despair, green eyes shimmering with what appeared to be unshed tears, and wouldn't meet Akira's eyes. “You know, don't you?”

 

“What do you mean?” he whispered dazedly, staring dumbly at the face that he had only just realized was dearest of all to him.

 

“That…this is why I'm sick. I like your kisses best. Waya's right. I'm not normal.” Hikaru was chewing hard on his own lip, as if attempting to stay sane.

 

Akira felt a thrill chase through him at those words…that his kiss was the one that Hikaru wanted. “So I'm the one you want?”

 

Hikaru closed his eyes again. “Don't torture me, Akira. I…I tried to ignore it, but Amari…made me face it. I can't pretend that it isn't there, anymore.”

 

Akira gripped the other boy's upper arms. “I'm the one you want?” he asked again, more forcefully.

 

Those green eyes met his at last, bitter and hurting. “Yes,” his rival whispered, seeming to wait for some sort of reprisal or punishment.

 

Akira frowned slightly, also feeling the evidence of Hikaru's desire in other ways. “Very well.”

 

Hikaru stared at him. “What do you mean, `very well'?”

 

“Hikaru, I'm afraid that father was right. You do have what he calls `unnatural tendencies' and maybe even feelings for me.”

 

The other boy looked away, looking ashamed. “Please don't stop being my friend,” Hikaru whispered. “I couldn't take that, Akira.”

 

“I will always be your friend, Hikaru,” Akira reassured his friend, smiling slightly. He could help Hikaru this way. “I will be here for you through this.”

 

Things could still be salvaged. He could still steer this the right way, despite his own bizarre behavior. Akira would do the right thing.

 

Hikaru drew back a little, looking confused. “What?”

 

“This isn't the right path, Hikaru.” Not for either of them. He couldn't ever imagine facing his father with something like this, but they could stay friends if he could turn his rival's romantic feelings towards an appropriate target.

 

Hikaru got up, turning away from him. “Akira…why did you kiss me?”

 

“You seemed like you needed it. But it's not the way for us, Hikaru. You're just confused.”

 

“This is who I am, Akira,” Hikaru responded darkly, voice tight with restrained emotion.

 

“Well, that's fine. If you can't be any other way, that's okay. You're still my best friend, Hikaru.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hikaru was shaking, but he tried to remain as still as possible in order to disguise it from Akira. How could he have thought that he could be anything more than a friend to the other boy? If Akira was going to kiss him only because he looked desperate…what kind of horrible pity was that? He didn't want that false comfort.

 

He was fortunate that Akira still wanted to be his friend. It would be best to simply go home. “I'll give you my cell phone in case you need to reach me while you're grounded.”

 

Hikaru fished the cell out of his pocket and tossed it towards Akira without turning around, not trusting his expressions or his control. He couldn't bear to look into those aqua eyes again.

 

“Thank you, Akira. See you later.”

 

“Thank you for lending me your cell. Are you certain that you're all right? Hikaru?”

 

He waved a hand and moved quickly for Akira's bedroom door, needing to leave the house immediately before he disgraced himself by breaking down in the other pro's presence. “Yes, fine, fine.”

 

Hikaru raced down the stairs and burst from the house at practically a run, slamming the front door behind him. He didn't care if Akira saw him running, now that he had broken free from that sweet hell. He could still feel the other boy's arms around him, the closeness that had momentarily lulled him into believing that his friend felt something more than friendship for him.

 

He kept running, blinded by tears, unable to care that he might hurt himself like this. It didn't really matter anymore. He already felt broken inside, as if some hope that he had been unaware that he was holding had shattered and cut him to pieces.

 

Hikaru tried to calm himself with the thought that they were still friends. At least there was that. He could still see Akira, still play Go with him and talk to him. They could still hang out if the other pro's parents would stop having their neurotic fits that Hikaru was going to make their son gay. There was no chance of that.

 

Bitter laughter escaped him in bursts with his labored breath. He wondered if there was anywhere that he could hide. Waya would only torment him further. Perhaps he could go to Isumi. He certainly wasn't going to face his mother for longer than it took to pack a bag.