Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ It's Getting Crowded in Here! ( Chapter 15 )

Isumi sighed and straightened from stowing the suitcases in the closet, stretching his back. “Well, that's the last of it. Did you need anything else, Touya?”

 

The younger pro shook his head. “No. Thank you for all of this, though. I truly appreciate it.”

 

He shook his head, waving away Touya's earnest look. “It's nothing. Did you want to play a game?”

 

“I'd love to. It seems that it's just us for now, as Hikaru has become glued to the couch, watching one of those asinine game shows.”

 

Isumi winced, smiling a little. “Waya favors those, too, and I'm not sure why.”

 

“I'll set up the board, if you'd like.”

 

“Thank you, please do. It's over there under the desk. I'll be back in a moment.”

 

Isumi left the room and went into the kitchen, glancing over the bar at Hikaru where he was, sure enough, glued to the couch, staring at the television as if completely entranced by the show that was on. But upon closer inspection, the bleach-banged boy's gaze was vacant and troubled.

 

Well, he could sympathize, and he'd be sure to force some words out of Hikaru later. He poured himself a generous measure of sake, not particularly caring that it would make his game sloppy and worthless. Typically he was concerned about such things, but he'd not been himself lately. Small wonder.

 

As he returned to the bedroom, he found that Touya was ready and waiting to begin the game. But as Isumi was settling himself before the board, the other boy's aqua eyes rose to meet his.

 

“You have many pictures of Waya,” Touya blurted out.

 

“I…do. Yes, I do. Waya is my best friend, after all.” He couldn't help but wonder where this was going. He had never known this conservative pro to do or say anything impulsively.

 

“I don't have any pictures of Hikaru and I, or even of just Hikaru.” Touya looked troubled by the admission.

 

“Why ever not?” Isumi was a little surprised. Hikaru and Touya had been around each other for so long, it did seem strange that there were no pictures of the two of them.

 

“I don't know. No one ever seems to be taking them.”

 

Isumi smiled and pointed at one particularly silly Waya picture. “I took that one. You have to take the pictures if you want them, Touya.”

 

The younger pro gave him a surprised look. “But that's…strange, isn't it?”

 

“Not particularly. I've taken lots of Waya pictures, and I've even taken pictures of Hikaru.”

 

Touya leaned forward over the Go-ban, eyes sharpening with interest. “You…you have? You have pictures?”

 

“Ah…yes. Would you like to look at them?”

 

The aqua-eyed boy blushed slightly, looking away. “No, no. I don't really…I don't need anything like…”

 

“Here, I'll take them out and you can look through at your leisure.” Isumi then lowered his voice to a whisper as if he were confiding in Touya and said, “You can take whatever you want and I won't tell anyone.”

 

The other boy's head whipped around and he stared at Isumi in surprise.

 

Isumi smiled, getting up to take a photo album off of the bookshelf beside his desk. He laid it next to Touya, who pretended to ignore its existence.

 

“I'll be white,” Touya murmured, graceful hands methodically removing the lid from his Go-ke, setting it aside and discretely slipping the photo album to the side where it would not be seen by anyone entering the room.

 

Isumi arched a brow slightly and repressed the urge to smile again. He took another sip of his sake as the other boy made his move and then set it back down on yet another bookshelf to his left.

 

He had bookshelves wherever he could fit them in his apartment, as he loved to read. Only some of the books were about Go.

 

He considered Touya's move carefully, then responded with a cautious feint meant to draw the other out. Naturally he would lose against this boy, no matter which tactic he used.

 

Isumi didn't have as many interests outside of Go as Hikaru and Waya, but he did enjoy and collect music, though he didn't have nearly as many CDs as Hikaru and Waya did. They could start their own record store together. Isumi was mostly interested in the quieter music. Hikaru and Waya often made horrible faces at him about that and argued with each other over which music was the `best' - Gackt or Luna Sea. He'd had to intervene several times to prevent violence between the two of them.

 

But there were times when he could get Waya to chill out with him and they'd lie on his floor for hours and listen to classical and other instrumental music together.

 

Touya responded boldly, and Isumi frowned, uncertain as to which tactic he wanted to execute.

 

The sound of video gaming reached him from the other room. Perhaps Hikaru thought a more mentally active pursuit would spare him. Despite the fact that Isumi wasn't much into gaming, he did have the game system and a few video games. But it was mostly there for Waya and Hikaru.

 

Isumi was beginning to think that he and Touya had more in common than he'd realized. If he could understand the aqua-eyed pro, perhaps he could help Hikaru out of whatever situation he was in.

 

Just as he was about to make his move, he heard his cell phone ringing. He excused himself quickly and ran to get it. It was on the end table at the far end of the couch. Startling Hikaru, he lunged for it and answered on the third ring.

 

“Hello?” he answered, slightly breathless.

 

“…Did I interrupt something?” Waya asked, tone slightly acidic.

 

Isumi closed his eyes briefly. “No, of course not. Hold on one moment.”

 

He turned to Hikaru. “I need to go outside for a moment, please excuse me.”

 

“I'm taking a shower, anyway.” Hikaru got up with a cheerful smile that seemed forced and ran off to the bathroom.

 

Isumi sighed and went into the bedroom to excuse himself from Touya. “Touya? I'll be outside for a few, so please excuse me.”

 

The other pro looked up absently. “Mm? Of course.”

 

“Ok, I'll be back.”

 

He crossed back through the living room and let himself out the front door, wishing that he had a balcony out back that he could have a private conversation on. Hopefully this conversation would not be painful, though he feared the worst.

 

“Ok, Waya, I can talk now.”

 

“Who's there?” the other boy asked, sounding suspicious.

 

“Just Hikaru and Touya. It's a long story. It seems they're both having issues, and I'm inclined to think that their issues may be related to each other, if you know what I mean.” He waited for the exclamations of `stupid queers' and the like from the other end of the line, but it never came.

 

After a long pause, Waya spoke again. “Hm, how long are they staying?”

 

“I don't know, but I hope it won't be more than a few days. It will soon be time to play for titles again. Whatever it is, they need to resolve it fairly soon, otherwise it will be throwing off their games.”

 

“I see. Well, why don't they just do whatever it is they need to do to relieve those tensions, and then forget about it? Their friendship will be better for it.” Waya's tone was rational and even.

 

Isumi gritted his teeth and closed his eyes again. “Have you forgotten about it, Waya?”

 

There was another long pause, and then quietly, “Yes.”

 

He bit down on his thumb to keep from saying things that he wouldn't be able to take back.

 

“Are you still there, Isumi?” Waya asked softly.

 

He released his thumb to answer. “As usual.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akira was deep in thought over the last game he had played against Hikaru when he thought he saw a flash of something flesh-colored go past the open bedroom door. He glanced up, frowning, but was not enlightened.

 

He rose from the floor and moved quietly to peek around the corner.

 

Hikaru was crouching, back turned to Akira, clothed only in a slipping towel that was wrapped loosely about his hips. Seeing all of that naked back turned towards him and the graceful line of the other boy's spine, he felt the bottom of his stomach drop out, just like it had the few times he'd ridden on rollercoasters.

 

He wanted a picture of that. Unable to stop staring, it reminded him of when he'd been captivated by Hikaru sprawled on the floor earlier. He'd wanted a picture of that Hikaru, too. His mouth felt dry, and his heart kept speeding up, just as it did when he faced the bleach-banged boy across the Go-ban - except worse.

 

Would he and Hikaru always be friends? What if they wouldn't be? What if Hikaru was simply just…gone? What would his life be like without moments like these, without yelling at the other boy, without the stupid stunts and that ridiculous hair? There would be no hilarity, no foolishness or absurdity in his life without Hikaru as his friend. There would be none of these frightening moments that made his heart race. No more of those dangerous, confusing kisses.

 

Hikaru cursed under his breath as he rummaged in his bag, jerking Akira back to the moment. The towel slipped even further before finally falling to the floor, and he thought that his heart had seized. The `Akira' tattoo on the other boy's right buttock was clearly exposed, and this time he had a good look at it. It was quite beautiful. So was the backside that it had been etched into.

 

Akira slipped back into the bedroom before Hikaru caught him, swallowing to relieve the awkward tension in his throat. One of his hands was fisted against his chest. He stared at it dumbly before lowering his hand and uncurling the fingers.

 

He heard the bathroom door close again and assumed that Hikaru had gone back in to get dressed. Both disappointed and relieved, he used the moment of privacy to flip through the photo album Isumi had offered him pictures from.

 

Glancing up repeatedly between pages, he worked his way through it as quickly as possible. Hikaru flashing a victory sign at the camera. Hikaru having a water fight with Waya. Hikaru and Waya making horrible faces. Hikaru sitting in a lounge chair at the pool with his eyes closed and his sunglasses perched forgotten on top of his head, smiling faintly in his sleep. Akira's fingers paused, and he slipped that photo out of its protective pocket.

 

He resumed flipping, but didn't find any more that were quite like the one he had chosen. Somewhat dissatisfied, Akira realized that he wanted pictures that he had taken of Hikaru, or vice versa. Private moments, pictures of moments that only the two of them were part of.

 

Akira frowned, cataloguing the feeling as foreign and counter-productive. He'd been spending too much time around Hikaru. Perhaps his father had been right?

 

He shook his head. Nothing was worth destroying Hikaru, even if that thing was his own equilibrium. And perhaps…destroying Hikaru would have destroyed something in him, too.

 

Akira glanced up warily again, and returned the photo album to the shelf it had been taken from. Then, taking care that he remained unobserved, he went into the closet and slipped the photo into the inner pocket of one of his suitcases.

 

Seating himself before the Go-ban again, he assumed a thoughtful pose and resumed peering at the board as if he were truly lost in strategy.

 

Moments later, the bathroom door opened and Hikaru came out, making a detour to come into the bedroom.

 

The bleach-banged boy leaned against the doorframe, bracing himself with one hand. “Hey there…bored?”

 

Akira pretended that he had only just noticed Hikaru there and glanced up, feigning surprise. “Oh…hello. Well, I was just wondering if I should be replaying another game while Isumi is gone.”

 

Hikaru's hair was still very damp and hung close to his face and neck. The other pro was not wearing a shirt. In fact, the only thing he was wearing were a pair of rather small and insubstantial sports shorts. Hikaru's body was lean and athletic, but not overly muscled.

 

Akira averted his eyes, feeling choked all over again. Damn these stupid, bizarre reactions!

 

“It seems like there's something going on with Waya, doesn't it?” Hikaru sounded concerned.

 

“I wouldn't know. I assume it's usual for Waya and Isumi to talk on the phone.”

 

“It isn't that. They've both been acting really weird lately. Bad weird.”

 

“So have you. That girlfriend is having a painful effect on you, Hikaru. Why don't you just break it off?” He delivered all this with studied nonchalance, hoping that he wouldn't sound too involved or obnoxious.

 

Hikaru sat down beside him and leaned close. “I'd love to. But you see, Akira, she's very persuasive. She has threatened to spread rumors throughout the Go community about us if I fail to be receptive to her advances. She especially threatened you.”

 

Akira drew back slightly at the other boy's proximity - he was surrounded by the scent of Hikaru's freshly washed skin and hair, and it was disturbing him. “What gave her that idea?” he exclaimed, glancing into the other pro's brilliant eyes - and wishing he hadn't. They were very close to him, reminding him, as they always did, of other times he'd been this close to them. He felt his face flush, and silently cursed his friend in his mind.

 

Hikaru looked pained before his gaze dropped to the stones. “Only what she'd seen of us interacting, and the fact that I wouldn't really respond to her.”

 

“No one would believe her. She's not a pro.”

 

“But what if they did? You can't do anything besides be a professional Go player. It's in your blood. You live for it, and I need to be there to play you.” Hikaru's gaze came back to his, dark and melancholy.

 

He felt the flush creep through the rest of his body. “Why do things have to be so complicated?” Akira muttered, raising a hand to rub lightly at his temple.

 

“I don't know, Akira…I don't know.” Hikaru sighed and closed his eyes, hanging his head.

 

Akira stared at the dark and light strands mixing and felt the misplaced urge to run his hand through it, to feel the warmth of Hikaru's neck under his fingers.

 

“But I have an idea,” the other pro continued, lifting his head to gaze directly into Akira's eyes. “I figure that I can break up with Amari if I have an alibi of sorts for my affections. If I find some guy to date, I can claim that Amari is sadly deluded, that I've loved this guy for ages and that you're not involved at all. With a set-up like that, no one would believe that Touya Akira could ever be involved, despite the fact that you lost Miho and aren't dating anyone else right now. All you'd have to do is deny it, which would be fairly easy for you, since you've never felt like that about me, anyway.”

 

He found himself staring again. Sad. It was becoming a habit. “Right…easy.” Easy to deny that he cared about Shindou Hikaru, the person his life had revolved around for years. The person that made him experience these awkward, less-than-pleasant moments of near heart failure.

 

Some other guy? Some random person with Hikaru? The idea made him feel uneasy, but he wasn't certain as to why it should. It would be good for Hikaru to focus on someone more appropriate, someone that could return those attentions and feelings.

 

“Are you taking a shower?” Hikaru asked, voice somewhat husky.

 

“What?” He met Hikaru's eyes and his voice died in his throat. It was a look. A kiss look, if he wasn't mistaken.

 

“A…shower. Are you taking one?” Those green eyes were dark and sexy, lids lowered as the other boy's gaze caressed his face.

 

His heart leapt into his throat and…he couldn't breathe. Hikaru leaned in closer, hot breath on Akira's lips.

 

Akira leaned back instinctively, stomach fluttering with heat, fear and…anticipation?

 

The other pro's tongue lightly touched his lips just then, and he felt his arms give out, sending him sprawling onto his back on the floor. He knocked the Go-ke over on his way down, sending stones everywhere.

 

Before he could blink, Hikaru was above him, face drawing close to his again. Akira gasped, turning partially into the floor so that the other pro was presented with his back. Apparently unperturbed by this, his rival went for the back of his neck, and he felt the wet heat of Hikaru's tongue against his skin.

 

Akira shuddered, unprepared for the feelings such an intimate caress sent tearing through his body. But one thing was clear to him. It scared the hell out of him, as usual. He tried to protect his neck, but it was no use. Hikaru was alternating between using tongue and teeth, and was pushing aside his hair to get more access.

 

“Stop!” he breathed into the floor. That would never do. He tried again. “Shindou, stop it!”

 

The boy braced above him froze, and Akira could hear his breath coming hard and fast. Then Hikaru made a choked sound and the weight of his friend's body was removed from his. Slowly, Akira turned over to look up at Hikaru where he was kneeling beside him.

 

Hikaru's expression was heartbroken and ashamed. “I'm so sorry,” the other boy murmured in a tremulous voice, trying to smile as he pushed back his bangs with shaking fingers.

 

Not knowing what to do, Akira merely nodded and looked away, trying to calm his wild heartbeat with sheer will. “We're still friends,” he said quietly, doing his best to reassure the shaken boy.

 

“I'm sorry,” Hikaru repeated, offering his hand to help Akira up. “Honestly, Akira, you can hit me if you want. I deserve it.”

 

“I'm not going to hit you, but I might start yelling at you soon.”

 

They both jumped as Isumi's voice broke in. “Ahh…I keep finding you two like this. Is sharing the fold-out bed going to be an issue?”

 

Akira looked up, feeling trapped and exposed. He lightly knocked away Hikaru's hand and stood on his own. That earned him a wounded look from his friend, but the bleach-banged boy rose to stand beside Akira without making an issue of it.

 

“No, sharing the bed won't be an issue, but Hikaru might be bruised or scarred if he tries to get too friendly while I'm trying to sleep.”

 

Hikaru sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm sorry, Akira, I really am. I can't help it.”

 

“Can't help what?” Isumi asked, looking as though he already knew the answer.

 

“Trying to kiss me all the time,” Akira muttered, trying his best not to blush again.

 

Isumi cleared his throat. “Hikaru, is there something you wanted to tell me? Us? I wondered, but this seems like confirmation. You're not into girls at all, are you?”

 

Hikaru looked as though he wanted to crawl away and find a dark corner to die in. “Not really.”

 

“You love Touya, then?” Isumi asked calmly.

 

Hikaru gasped as if slapped and Akira blinked in astonishment.

 

“Uh…I don't know about that, I just…I like him best.” The bleach-banged pro had turned a deep shade of red.

 

“I see. I think it's time for us to have our talk, what do you say? That way Touya can have some peace without being thrown over the Go-ban for reasons he can't understand.”

 

Akira put a hand over his face, unable to keep himself from blushing at Isumi's wry comment. “I'm not an idiot, Isumi. I know what sex is, I just don't want it with…” he broke off, unable to continue. He let his hand drop.

 

Hikaru was giving him a desolate, broken look. “I know that you don't want to be with me, Akira. I wouldn't try to do that. I just wanted to be close to you. That's why I keep trying to kiss you…I'm sorry. I'll do my best not to trouble you anymore.”

 

Something about the phrasing concerned Akira. It almost sounded as if Hikaru were proposing a complete withdrawal from his life.

 

“I'm not…I…think I'll just take my shower now, if no one minds. Isumi?”

 

“I took mine earlier. I'm fine. Hikaru and I will take the opportunity to talk about this while you're in there.” Akira met Isumi's darkened eyes and thought that they looked unhappy, despite the fact that his host was smiling.

 

“Thank you. I'll go now.” He gathered his sleep clothing and toiletries needed for his shower, and as he was closing the bathroom door behind him, he heard Isumi speaking again.

 

“You, sit down on that couch. Obviously this talk is overdue. What do you…”

 

The door closing cut them off, but Akira could just imagine what Isumi would say to poor, confused Hikaru.

 

No, Hikaru wasn't confused. He was the one that was confused. Damn Hikaru and his peculiar way of making everyone feel whatever he was feeling…

 

Akira turned on the water a little colder than he preferred, closing his eyes and trying not to recall the curve of Hikaru's back and backside as he washed his hair.

 

It was more difficult than it should have been.