Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ Balance ❯ Part 2, Physical (1/3) ( Chapter 5 )

<i>According to authorities around the world, there are five different kinds of health that human beings strive for: Physical, Mental, Emotional, Spiritual and Social. A healthy, happy life results from keeping all these elements in balance.</i>


BALANCE
A Hikaru no Go Sekkushiaru Roman Series
By Sailor Mac



PART TWO: PHYSICAL (1/3)


Akira was trying not to look impatient.

He sat at the usual table in the Go salon, waiting for Hikaru to get there, quietly laying out stones. The pattern was a game they had played against each other a long, long time ago . . . at the junior high school Go Club tournament.

Only the first part of the game hadn't been Hikaru. It had been Fujiwara no Sai, a ghost. He'd been playing a Go master from the Heian period.

Akira paused and studied the stones. Yes, he could see where the transition from Sai to Shindou had taken place. The archaic patterns disappeared, the playing became more disorganized, more careless . . . but also, in a way, more fearless.

"If I knew then what I knew now," Akira murmured out loud to himself as he stared at the patterns thoughtfully, one hand against his chin.

So much had changed between himself and Shindou in a short period of time. He had found out the secret the other boy had been promising to tell him for so long . . .

"Touya! I'm here!" Akira looked up to see the familiar form rushing past Ichikawa's desk toward him, backpack slung over one shoulder. He was wearing his usual casual attire, blue jeans and an unbuttoned brown and tan flannel shirt, under which was a green T-shirt bearing the number 5.

Akira found himself looking back at the stones again, not wanting his eyes -- the eyes he usually had such perfect control over -- to betray what he was feeling. All it would take would be for the wrong person to see him gazing at Hikaru a second too long, studying him a bit too intently . . .

He glanced back up at the boy who was now more than a friend to him and said, cooly, "You're 10 minutes late."

"Hey, I would have been even later if Morishita-sensei had his way!" Hikaru said, sitting down with a thud. "Geez, that was the longest lecture on a single hand I ever . . ." His eyes traveled over the board, reading the game that was there . . . and he abruptly stopped talking. His expression changed, became tinged with melancholy.

*Sai*, Hikaru thought. *I stole this game from you. I wanted to play so badly, I was so selfish that day . . .*

And he looked up and saw the expression on Akira's face. There was concern there . . . . because Akira *understood* now. Akira knew about Sai. . . the only person who knew, who ever would know.

Their eyes locked and held for a moment that seemed like eternity, communicating without words, seeming to fall into each other.

Then, Hikaru abruptly looked away. Must break the eye contact, must not let anyone else see . . .

"Let's play," he said, quietly.

Akira nodded, and began to clear away the old game.

* * *

From her post at the front of the Go salon, Ichikawa observed what was going on toward the back.

It was rather quiet. In fact, it had been quiet for the past couple of weeks. They hadn't had a major fight since the one that had ended with Akira yelling, "Who are you, anyway?" and Hikaru storming out of the salon.

She was glad of it, really. As much as the fights between Hikaru and Akira drew attention to the Go salon -- it was good for business to have it out on the street that the Go world's two young geniuses came there on a regular basis to play and squabble -- they made her feel rather like a kindergarten teacher sometimes.

* * *

Over at the board, Hikaru was running through possible moves in his head.

Akira had launched an aggressive attack against his stones at the upper right -- but he had also left a grouping of his own stones just left of center with one opening that Hikaru could move in on easily.

Attack or defend, attack or defend . . .

*Or completely psych him out,* Hikaru thought, *and get him to chase me to the left, so he'll neglect both of those groups . .*

He watched his rival reach into the go ke with his long, slender fingers, withdrawing a stone and holding it in the air for a split second before bringing it down with a resounding *pachi*.

*Those fingers,* Hikaru thought. *They seem made to hold a stone. They're so beautfully shaped . . .*

And then, suddenly, a picture flooded his head of what those selfsame fingers had been doing a couple of nights ago, and it did *not* involve Go stones.

Hikaru remembered the feel of cotton on his naked skin as he writhed on the futon, the heat and wetness of Akira's lips and tongue caressing his neck, and the stroking, stroking, up and down his erection, lingering on the head of it, sending a deep shudder through Hikaru's entire . . .

He shook his head rapidly, trying to drive the heated images out. No, he couldn't be thinking this way in the middle of a game! He had a shot at actually beating Touya for once! He looked at the boad, at where Akira's stone had landed . . . yes, he had discovered the vulnerability to the left, he was trying to close it before it was too late, if he didn't move now he'd lose his chance.

Akira studied Hikaru's expression as the boy reached into the Go ke. His face was its usual stony mid-game mask. Quite a contrast to a moment ago, when he had looked . . well, that had definitely not been his game face. Hikaru's expression had been soft, his lips moist and parted, a slight flush in his cheeks.

A lovely picture flashed through the boy's head of those lips opening wider under Akira's thrusting tongue, letting him in to explore as Hikaru's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one, slow enough to drive Akira mad . . .

Akira blinked, rapidly. Where did those thoughts come from? *This isn't like me!* he thought. *I never lose focus during a game! I can't afford to! Especially against Shindou!* He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tilted his head down to the board, willing himself to think of nothing else.

* * *

Back at the counter, as Ichikawa pulled out a small teapot and began to fill it with hot water, she gazed over at Akira again. He had come such a long way from the little boy who came here with his father when he could barely walk.

*He's almost an adult now,* she thought. *He's going through so many changes. And with the spotlight of the Go world on him . . . it can't be easy.*

That may have explained the odd period of behavior he'd gone through about a month ago, when he seemed to be *not him*. He'd brooded all the time, seemed preoccupied, and then there had been that fight with Shindou.

*Something has definitely changed in that relationship*, she thought as she put the teapot and a cup on a tray, then put a bottle of Mountain Dew Code Red beside it -- Shindou's beverage of choice. *And I can't put my finger on it.*

She carried the tray over. The boys were intently studying their game, both heads bent over the board. Neither looked up when she laid their drinks beside them, then walked away.

It was only when she was back to her desk that she realized what seemed odd about the way they were sitting. They had their heads close to each other. *Very* close -- with mere inches separating them. Go players usually did *not* sit like that.

*Maybe it's because they're too into their game to notice*, she thought. *Or maybe they're just comfortable with each other -- they spend a lot of time together away from the goban, don't they? Akira-kun said something about Shindou making him play video games to relax.*

But still, neither seemed a plausible explanation, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something *odd* about them.

"Teenage boys," she sighed out loud, and began to wipe off the counter.



* * *

It was early evening as the boys left the salon together. Hikaru watched a group of schoolkids race each other to the nearby arcade, a young woman walking three dauchsunds at once, a woman trying to balance a large bag of grocieries in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

He felt strangely content, despite the fact that Akira had beat him yet again. He thought he had him -- thought he had that grouping of stones just left of center surrounded and dead -- and then Akira had found the one escape route, one Hikaru himself had overlooked. It had proved to be the turning point of the game.

"Shindou," Akira said as they walked, "do you have any plans for Friday night?"

Hikaru shook his head. "I'm teaching two lessons in the afternoon, that's it."

"My parents are going away overnight again."

Hikaru's heart sped up. Touya Koyou's schedule in retirement often seemed more active than it did when he had been playing -- frequent trips to China, plus occasional appearances in seniors Go tournaments in different parts of the country. It was the best thing that could happen to two boys with a rapidly budding sexual relationship.

"What time should I come over?" he said, quietly.

The boys turned a corner, Hikaru admiring the graceful way Akira's hair bannered out around his face as he moved. It sometimes seemed that nature itself was conspiring to make him even more beautiful.

"Around seven," Akira replied. "I have a game tomorrow, it should be finished by then.

*I wonder,* Hikaru thought, *if we'll go all the way this time.* Their experiences so far had been confined to pleasuring each other with mouths and hands. Not that Hikaru exactly minded that -- it was just that he was curious. And a bit scared, he had to admit to himself.

"Touya," he said, as he shifted his backpack to his other shoulder. "Is there anything . . . um . . . special I should bring?"

Akira sighed. *I wish I knew,* he thought. *There's still so much I don't know, don't understand, about homosexuality -- about sexuality in general.*

It bothered him that he had no idea whether what they were doing was *right*, if there were something he could be doing to improve Hikaru's experience, and his own . . . and just how one went about performing anal sex.

This was most defnitely not something he could ask his father about, or any of the adults in his father's study group. He could just imagine what their reaction would be .

Hikaru had stopped, and was frowning at Akira, waving his hand in front of his face. "Touya! Hey! Are you in there?"

"I'm thinking!" Akira replied, starting to walk again twice as fast, as if to make up for lost time.

"You think too much," Hikaru replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"One of us has to," Akira replied, a bit haughtily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hikaru snapped.

Oh, this had impending fight written all over it. Akira restrained himself from going into a lecture about Hikaru's frequent carelessness, his live-for-the-moment-except-when-it-comes-to-Go attitude.

Instead, he kept quiet and said nothing. He was in no mood for a fight now. He knew he had to go home and do research.

* * *

A few hours later, Akira found himself sitting at his desk, staring at an empty search engine screen.

Usually, Akira was very good at finding things on the Internet -- one had to be, when one was juggling writing school papers with a professional Go career. But now, what he needed was eluding him.

*How does one go about this?* he thought. *If I just type in "anal sex," I'm probably going to get a thousand ads for hentai videos. If I type in "homosexuality," I'm going to get all kinds of gay rights pages.*

Looking down the page, he found a "health" category heading and clicked on it. Surfing from there to a sub-sub category on "sexuality" borught up everything from "adult products and services" to "legal issues" to "purity tests." (He wondered how he'd score on the latter. His relationship with Shindou had downgraded the purity of his mind and actions quite a bit).

He went to the page that said "Activities and Practices" and scanned the list. Yes, here was a subcategory on anal sex, and another on homosexuality, and . . .

"Fisting?" Akira said out loud. "Enemas? Beastiality?" He turned pale, his eyes growing wide . . . and clicked the mouse as quickly as his fingers could move.

He turned away from the screen for a moment, one hand clenched in a fist at his chest, as if to block out what he'd just seen. He knew human sexuality could take some odd directions, but they were directions he would have rather not known about.

Determined to complete his mission, he turned back around and clicked on the "anal sex" cateogory -- that was bound to have more solid, medical information. Scanning the list of links, he decided anything sporting multiple exclaimation points -- as in "!!!100% Anal Sex!!!" -- was probably a must to avoid.

He finally settled on a page called "Getting Over Fear of Anal Sex." The browser displayed a plain page with grey frames surrounding a white background, a series of links in a deep purple going down the left side -- maybe *too* many links, since they seemed clustered very close together. *It seems serious-looking enough*, he thought, and began to read.

Half an hour later, he sat back in his chair, his brow slightly furrowed as his hand reached up and gently tugged at his collar. It all actually seemed a lot simpler than he thought it was going to be. The most important things were for the receiving partner to relax, and to use a lot of lubrication.

*The relaxation is going to be the hard part,* Akira thought. *We're both going to be nervous. Maybe we should take a bath together first, that'll relax us and put us in the mood.*

Lubrication, the page had said, could come from a drugstore. But he figured that was definitely one topic they should know more about. If it was the main thing that kept a couple from getting injured . . . He scanned the links to the left. Sure enough, there was one that said "All About Lubricant."

He reached out for it and clicked -- and then realized he'd hit the one below it instead. He sighed -- those links really *did* need more space between them. The other page popped up in a separate window and began to load . . . this one had a black background with yellow type, and picture boxes. A *lot* of picture boxes.

Akira was about to click the button to make the page go away when he saw the type of photos that were loading. Here was a willowy blond man on his knees in front of an guy with close-cropped black hair and an athletic build, his mouth wrapped around the other man's erection. In the next picture, the blond was lying on his side with the brunet behind him, their bodies curved together spoon-fashion, the seme's hand wrapped around his partner's body to grasp and stroke his erection.

There were captions under each photo explaining the how-to of each position and act, but Akira paid no attention to them. His eyes were rivited to the images.

*So this is what it looks like,* he thought, scrolling down a bit further to see more images -- the blond on his hands and knees with the brunet behind him, entering him doggie-style, then a missionary-style position, the uke with his arms and legs wrapped around the seme, his mouth open in a gasp of bliss.

*Is that what my face looks like when Hikaru and I are making love to each other?* Akira thought. He leaned over a bit, studying the last picture intently, the way he'd study the pattern of stones on the board while figuring out his next move.

Go was no mystery to him, however. And this was. He felt like a crack in the earth had opened up under his feet and given him a glimpse of some subterranean society that had remained hidden for thousands of years.

He scrolled back up to the first pictures, his eyes traveling over the bodies of the two men. They were beautiful . . . flawless skin, smooth muscles, flat stomachs . . . He felt a tightening in his groin, the same sensation he felt when kissing Hikaru, touching him.

*What does Hikaru see when he looks at me?* he thought.

Slowly, he rose and walked toward his closet door, which had a full-length mirror. Reaching up, he unbuttoned his shirt, methodically, and flung it on the floor, followed by his pants, underwear and socks.

He looked at the boy reflected back at him as if he'd never seen him before. His eyes traveled upward, gradually, over the longish legs, the slender hips and chest, to the heart-shaped face framed by glossy, dark hair.

Turning around, he glanced over his shoulder at the graceful sweep of his back, the slight dip before it flared out again into his gently rounded bottom. He was startled at how good the latter looked. Hikaru had told him he had a "hot ass," but he hadn't taken it very seriously -- they were words coming from a lover, after all, and didn't everyone think their lover had a "hot ass"?

Turning forward again, he looked at his own face. When did his eyes become cat-shaped like that? He couldn't remember them looking that way -- or maybe he'd just never noticed it. Just like he'd never really noticed the slender, arched brows. And his lips were fuller than he thought they'd be.

He let his eyes trail over his body again. He most definitely wasn't muscular -- a life spent in Go salons had assured that. But his body was all in proportion, and there was nothing scrawny about him -- there was just enough fat, just enough muscle, to fill him out and hide his bones.

He looked pale, smooth and slender, like a Greek statue of a barely-adolescent youth carved out of marble.

And it suddenly occured to Touya Akira, with a shattering jolt, that he was a beautiful boy.

He remained that way for a long moment, gazing at himself, reaching out to place one palm against the mirror, as if to connect with the boy within, to verify that yes, *this is me*.

Slowly, he turned and walked back to his computer chair, still naked. His screensaver had come up, a slideshow of culturally and historically important sites throughout Japan.

He moved his mouse, and the image of a huge temple bell vanished, to be replaced by the images of the two men coupling.

*Now I know what Hikaru and I would look like,* he thought. Because he was becoming very, very familiar with his lover's naked body, and Hikaru was *definitely* beautiful.

Akira closed his eyes, envisioning a naked Hikaru. His build was more muscular than Akira's, since he had played sports before taking up Go, and it had been maintained by a lot of time walking to and from subways and going up and down steps -- Go players got more exercise than most people thought. His arms and legs had been kind of stubby when he was 12, but now . . . oh, yes, they had gotten longer, come into proportion with the rest of him, and filled out. His chest was strong, broader than Akira's, as was his back . . .

And his bottom. Shindou Hikaru most definitely had a "hot ass." Those round, firm cheeks seemed made for Akira's hands to grasp and caress.

Akira's eyes fell on a picture of the blond standing, bent over and holding on to the bedpost, with the brunette behind him, pushing into him.

What would it be like to have Hikaru bent over like that, his gorgeous bottom upturned and ready for him? What would it be like to push his erection between the cheeks, to feel Hikaru's inner muscles grip him, to be buried within his lover's body . . .

Akira's right hand began to slide slowly down his chest, stroking the skin, caressing in small circles. He let out a soft moan of pleasure as he felt his own nipple hardening beneath his fingers.

"Hikaru," he gasped as he rubbed the nipple back and forth, then swirling in circles, imagining it was his lover's fingers. He could see him in his mind's eye, his head bending to Akira's chest, the blond bangs softly brushing his skin as his tongue lapped out at the hardening bud.

Akira moaned louder, his body arching up gracefully from the seat, his hair spilling over its back as the palms of both hands moved slowly over his stomach, then further down.

He writhed a bit in the seat, feeling the upholstery rub against his bottom, which seemed twice as sensitive as usual. He imagined Hikaru's hands grabbing at the cheeks, squeezing and massaging them as he kissed along his lover's erection.

"Ohhhh . . ." Akira groaned, brushing the fingers of one hand over his aching length, envisioning Hikaru's tongue tracing a line up and down the side of his manhood. He could see the way the boy's back curved as he bent over, the way the lashes of his closed eyes fanned out over his cheek.

His fingers wrapped around himself as the picture in his mind shifted. Now Hikaru was leaning over, like the blond on the Web page, and he was lubed and open and ready to receive him.

Akira imagined bending over for a kiss, his tongue plunging in and out of the boy's mouth. He raised an index finger to his own lips and pushed it in, sucking on it a bit, thrusting it in and out.

He could hear Hikaru's soft moans of anticipation, feel the boy's hot breath mingling with his. He imagined parting his bottom, positioning himself . . .

The fingers that so deftly and confidently placed stones on the board were now enclosing his erection, sliding back by degrees from the head down to the base as he imagined pushing in . . . just a little, had to let him get used to the sensation, couldn't hurt him . . .

His head fell back, his eyes tightly closed, his lips parted as his breath came in short gasps. He licked his lips as his hand moved again, sliding back some more . . . now he was almost fully encased in Hikaru, and he was being gripped tightly, flooded with luscious sensations.

The other hand flew to his mouth, and he kissed the back of it, imagining he was leaning over and kissing Hikaru's neck, and then down to his back. The tip of his index finger slipped between his lips again, and he nipped at it lightly, then started to suck, envisioning himself nibbling and sucking on his lover's earlobe.

Keeping the hand gripping his erection still, he began to raise his hips in thrusting motions, moving himself in and out of his fist, literally making love to his own hand. In his mind, he could hear Hikaru's moans growing louder as he thrust in and out of his body, feel the tight heat as his lover encased him again and again.

Akira leaned forward, gasping, his hair falling over his flushed face as his hand started to pump rapidly.His other hand moved down to his chest, finding a nipple and starting to gently knead it, only heightening the hot sensations that were building and building in the core of his being, threatening to explode at any moment.

He could feel it almost as if it were really happening . . . the sensation of his nipples brushing Hikaru's back, his legs rubbing on the other boy's, the feel of Hikaru's hips pushing back to meet Akira's thrusts, the dampness of his lover's skin.

He imagined reaching around and stroking Hikaru, the way he was now stroking himself, wanting to make him moan and cry out and shudder and then collapse in a satisfied heap.

His hand moved faster as he leaned back in the chair, writhing, a pink flush and a sheen of perspiration spreading over his ivory skin. His breath was coming in rapid pants now, his mind fuzzy with erotic delerium . . . the fantasy of Hikaru was his reality now, and he could feel the boy tensing and tightening around him as he prepared to climax.

Suddely, Akira felt the entire world stand still for a second . . . and then the dammed-up pleasure within him exploded in a fury of heat, and he let out a long, low cry as his body shook, relaxed, then shook again, his hips rising off the chair over and over, until he collapsed back into the seat, totally limp.

Akira just sat there for a moment, panting and dazed. Then, he looked up, one slightly trembling hand reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes.

It was then when he saw the results of his self-induced pleasure splattered on his desk and keyboard, and the full reality of what he had just done hit him.

"Gods!" he cried, leaping to his feet, scrambling for his box of tissues to clean up the mess. He had been sitting there, naked, looking at erotic images, fantasizing about Hikaru and masturbating . . .

And his *parents were in the house*.

He could just imagine his father coming into the bedroom and seeing the gay sex pictures and what his son was doing, hearing him moaning Hikaru's name.

Akira rushed to his closet and took out his around-the-house yukata, slipping it on. He took the soiled tissues, wrapped them in another tissue, and wrapped that in another tissue still.

Opening the door, he crept out into the hall, afraid he'd find at least one parent there, demanding an explaination for what they'd just heard.

To his relief, not only was nobody there, but he could hear the sounds of the television from the living room. It was one of the very few nights that the set got used for something besides the evening news in the Touya household -- a documentary on Go tournaments over the past 12 months. He should have remembered -- he'd originally planned to watch it himself, then decided his research was more important.

He rushed into the bathroom, threw the bundle of tissues into the toilet and flushed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror -- his face was still slightly flushed. He decided it probably was best that he not let his parents see him for awhile.

Returning to his bedroom, he saw his screen saver was back. He jiggled the mouse to make it go away, and the pictures came into view again. He didn't even look at them -- he clicked the button to close the window.

He decided that he most definitely was not going to tell Hikaru about *this* part of his research.

* * *

"You did RESEARCH?"

Akira winced and ducked down a bit. The ramen shop they were in was crowded, and the table they were sitting at was not exactly private. He wondered if it had been a bad idea to mention this now, but he didn't know when they'd get any time alone later. He certainly couldn't talk to him about this at the Go Institute, or on the subway, or at his father's Go salon.

"Yes," he said, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I used a search engine and looked up some medical sites, and they had some very useful information."

Hikaru leaned across the table, eyes glittering mischievously. "Did you go to any *porn* sites?"

Akira choked on his mouthful of noodles, stifling the loud coughing noises as best he could. His cheeks were blazing. If Shindou only knew about the pictures, and what he did when he was looking at them . . . He grabbed for his glass of water and took a huge gulp, then a deep breath, closing his eyes. When they snapped open again, they were ablaze with his usual game-face glare.

"Of course I didn't!" he snapped. "I said *medical* sites! There's a big difference between that and . . ." He felt himself turning crimson again. "What you said."

"Okay," Hikaru said, still with a look of mischief on his face. "If you say they were *medical* . . ."

"You're not taking this seriously!" Akira said, grabbing his chopsticks and stabbing furiously at a piece of meat in his bowl. "Just like you don't take the game seriously!"

"I take my game very seriously!" Hikaru replied, using his own chopsticks to point at Akira. "And I take this seriously, too! What makes you think I don't?"

"You're accusing me of . . ." He couldn't get the words out. He bent over his bowl to slurp up noodles, giving him an excuse not to make eye contact with the other boy.

"So I made a joke! Big deal! You need to lighten up, Touya!"

Akira slammed his hand down on the table. "And you need to recognize a serious matter when you see one! This isn't like playing ball with someone, Shindou! There's risks invovled!"

"I know that!" Hikaru said, swirling his chopsticks around in his own soup.

"No, you don't!" Akira replied, leaning over the table, his bowl of ramen now forgotten. "I did the research, and you're not listening to me!"

"You didn't talk about your research," Hikaru said cooly, scooping up noodles and meat. "You flew off the handle before you could talk about it." He slurped up the food.

"That's because *you* made fun of what I was talking about!" Akira remained leaning over the table, eyes ablaze, gaze fixed firmly on the blond.

"I asked one question," Hikaru said.

"And it was a very mocking question!"

"*You* were the one who saw it that way!"

There was a long moment of silence as Hikaru went back to his food, and Akira just stared into his. Normally, the last thing in the world he'd do would be to concede defeat to Shindou, but . . .

*Maybe I was a bit too sensitive,* he thought. *Maybe remembering what I did is getting to me.*

He went back to his bowl, picking up noodles, pushing them past his lips. He didn't look at Shindou, and he was sure Shindou wasn't looking at him, either.

Finally, Hikaru said, "So what did you learn?"

Akira's first instinct was to snap, "So you're finally willing to listen now?" But he bit it back. He didn't want them to go back to square one.

Instead, he said, "We are going to *need* lubricant. That is a *must*."

Hikaru frowned. "Lubricant? You mean, like WD-40?"

"NO." Akira took a deep breath, fighting back another sharp retort. "I mean, like K-Y. You can find it in the drugstore -- it's usually sold next to the hygiene items."

"Hygiene?" Hikaru frowned for a moment -- and then he realized what Akira meant. "You mean . . . *woman stuff*?"

"That's what the site said," Akira replied, calmly. "And they also recommended you use condoms."

"Why?" Hikaru picked up a crab leg and squeezed it between the chopsticks to crack the shell. "It's not like either of us has been with someone before. We don't have diseases."

"It's not a matter of *those kind* of diseases," Akira said, picking up his teacup and bringing it halfway to his mouth. "There's a lot of naturally occurring bacteria in there. You could come down with a urinary tract infection."

"GHAAA!" Hikaru nearly spilled his remaining soup. He didn't need any detail to know how painful *that* would be . . . not to mention having to explain to his family why he was groaning in pain every time he went to the bathroom. Or to a doctor how he happened to get such a thing.

"Fortunately, the condoms are easily found in the drugstore as well," Akira said before taking a sip and putting his cup back down. "And they have another advantage . . . let's just say they smooth things out and make entry easier."

Hikaru gulped. He knew that *he* was going to be the one making the run to the drugstore. After all, it was only fair -- Akira did the research, so he had to hold up his own end of it.

Buying the condoms was going to be the easy part -- nobody looked twice at a teenage boy planning a big night with a girlfriend. But the other stuff . . . having to fetch it off the same shelf that held the women's needs, taking it up to the cash register -- and those places always seemed to be staffed by old ladies with badly dyed hair and cat-eye glasses, the last kind of people you wanted to see you with personal lubricant in your hand.

Hikaru knew he wanted to go all the way with Akira, though -- what they had done so far had only made him curious about what was beyond that. And he certainly didn't want either of them to get sick or hurt.

"Okay," he said. "I'll go for stuff tomorrow, after my lessons. Think 500 yen from each of us will cover it all?"

"I don't know," Akira said, pulling out his wallet. "I've never bought the stuff before." He pulled out the requested amount of money and handed it to his lover.

"If it's more, I'll let you know." *Good Gods,* Hikaru thought, *what am I getting myself into? What would Sai think of all this if he were still here? I'll bet he'd be horrified. But then again, would I even be *doing* this with Akira if Sai were still around? I doubt it.*

As Hikaru slid out of the booth, he accidentally knocked his jacket to the floor and bent to pick it up -- giving Akira a splendid look at his upturned bottom.

Oh, yes, Shindou Hikaru had a "hot ass." And Akira's head was suddely filled with visions of that lovely rump naked and open to him. He imagined how it would feel to plunge inside, to feel Hikaru all around him, tight around his manhood . . .

He shuddered with anticipation. Suddenly, tomorrow night seemed years away.

* * *

Hikaru stood outside the drugstore, looking through the front window. Just as he'd feared, all three cash registers were manned by old ladies.

*I can't chicken out,* he thought. *Not if I want it to happen tonight. Not if I want . . .*

An image filled his mind of Akira lying on top of him, pushing into tim, filling him . . .

*What will it feel like?* Hikaru thought. *Is it going to hurt? Touya said the lube was to keep me from getting injured and to make it easier for him to get in. How are we going to know if we have enough? And what about the condom? How are we going to know if he has it on right? What if it slips off in the middle, and gets stuck inside, and . . .*

"Are you going inside?"

The voice behind him made Hikaru jump and give a yelp. He wheeled around to see an impatient-looking, rather bulky woman holding an equally bulky-looking toddler by the hand. It was only then that he realized he'd been blocking the doorway.

"Um, sure!" Hikaru said, blushing and screwing his eyes shut as he rubbed the back of his head. "I was just . . . trying to remember what I needed to get! And I know now, so I'll just . . ." He turned back around and rushed into the store, ducking into the aisle that held batteries and flashlights as if the shelves could conceal him.

He peeked around the corner until he saw the woman head down the cold medicines and antacids aisle. He rushed off in the opposite direction, heading past the greeting cards, making a right at the envelopes and notebooks, until he was at the far end of the aisle where baby and feminine products were.

*It figures,* he thought. *The diapers are at this end, and what I need is all the way at the *other* end.*

Trying to appear casual and nonchalant, in case anyone in any other part of the store was peeking over in his direction, he sauntered up the aisle, flicking his eyes this way and that like he did when he wanted to survey the whole board quickly without letting his opponent know what he was was doing.

Diapers gave way to baby oils and powders, then adult diapers (something that nearly sent Hikaru running in the other direction -- he couldn't think of anything that could be *less* sexy), and then a baffling array of boxes and bags containing every kind of feminine supply imaginable. Hikaru frowned -- how did women differentiate between "long maxi," "thin long maxi," "maxi with wings" and "ultra long thin maxi with wings?" He was never so glad he was born male in his life.

And finally, at the very, very end was a shelf of various tubes in boxes. Anti-yeast creams (the very idea made Hikaru shudder), topical pain relief creams, and . . ."

"Finally," he said under his breath, as he scooped up a box labeled K-Y. *Now,* he thought, *all I need is the condoms. I know where they are, with the guy stuff . . .*

He turned the corner and began heading up the toothpaste and mouthwash asile --the razors and after-shave lotions and stuff were at the other end -- when he froze in his tracks.

Looking over a rack of toothpaste was a boy his own age, a bit short in stature, with unruly red hair, wearing the uniform of the same high school Akari attended.

Hikaru gulped. It was the worst possible person he could have run into at a moment like this. No, second worst. Kaga would have been the *absolute* worst.

*Maybe,* he thought, *if I back out of the aisle quietly, Mitani won't notice me . . .*

But before he could take a single step, the other boy looked up and just said, "Shindou."

Hikaru froze like a deer caught in the headlights. He felt as if a spotlight was focused on the tube he was holding in his hand, that the next day all his old Go Club friends would know he was in the drugstore buying something that straight guys *just didn't buy*

He flicked his eyes to the left . . . he was standing by a rack of bottles of mouthwash. *Maybe,* he thought, *I could just hide it*.

"Mitani!" Hikaru said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "I haven't seen you in . . . well, eternity! How are you doing?"

The redhead looked back at the shelf, giving Hikaru an opportunity to quickly put down the tube and shove it between two big bottles of green stuff.

"Are you still a pro?" he said, his voice even.

Hikaru winced. He knew Mitani never quite got over his leaving the Go Club to become an insei, after convincing Mitani to join.

"Um, sure!" Hikaru said. "I just got into the Honinbou League, in fact." He began walking slowly away from where he'd hidden the tube, toward Mitani.

The other boy was silent at that, just reaching back to the shelf to make his selection from among the tubes. That bothered Hikaru. He said, quickly, "Akari-chan tells me that all of our old Haze Go Club members are together in the high school club now."

"Most of us," Mitani replied, walking down toward the other end of the aisle. Hikaru followed.

*I can't grab the condoms now,* he thought. *Mitani will ask questions. He may think I want them for Akari -- I know they like each other. I'll just have to grab shaving stuff or something like that.*

"Most of us?" Hikaru said, catching a glimpse of the condoms out of the corner of his eye and realizing, with a momentary flash of panic, that there were almost as many varieties of them as there were feminine hygiene products. How on earth was he going to find the right ones? It wasn't as if they'd have labels on them that said, "Made expressly for anal sex!"

"Well, you're not with us anymore," Mitani replied, stopping by the shaving creams. "And we hardly see Kaga."

"Is he still with the shougi club?" Hikaru said, pretending to be interested in the disposible razors.

"He's trying to become a shougi pro," Mitani replied, turning to look at Hikaru . . . just as a screech erupted from the other end of the aisle. Both boys turned their heads, to see one of the smock-clad old ladies, a cart of mouthwash bottles in front of her, pointing at the exact spot where Hikaru had put the K-Y, a look of horror on her face.

"Kazeki-san!" she cried. "Look at what someone put in the mouthwash asile!"

Another old lady, stooped and gnarled to the point where she looked like a walking mushroom (albiet one covered with a shock of overly dyed red hair), wobbled over to the shelf and said in a gravelly voice, "Eh, it's just rude kids again. Stop overreacting!"

Hikaru just stood with his teeth clenched together, trying not to let his face betray any emotion at all, making a mental vow to make *very very sure* not to go to either woman's checkout counter. To his relief, Mitani just shrugged and went back to the shaving creams.

"Um, so you said Kaga was trying to become a pro?" Hikaru said, quickly.

"He said that if Shindou could do it, anyone could," Mitani said, picking up a can. "So he's going to classes like you did."

"That's . . . great!" Of course, Hikaru had to admit a bit of disappointment as well -- he had always held out a secret hope that Kaga would rediscover how much he really loved Go.

"You done in here?" Mitani said, starting to walk toward the cash register. "I have to go."

"No, I'm . . . waiting to pick up a prescription for my mother, and it isn't ready yet," Hikaru said, patting himself on the back for coming up with an excuse so quickly.

"Okay. I'll see you."

Hikaru watched the other boy pay for his goods and leave. He realized he was going to have to act before he ran into someone *else* that he knew. He rushed over to the condoms and scanned the packages quickly -- "ribbed for extra pleasure" was out, he knew, because Akira had said half the reason they'd be using them was to create a smooth surface to make entry easier.

He finally ended up grabbing the most basic type he saw and rushing around the corner, back to the diaper aisle again, nearly sprinting up to the feminine supplies and snatching another tube of K-Y up without hardly looking.

Hikaru headed for the cash registers, looked at the old ladies behind them, and stopped. There was the human mushroom, cackling over something a customer was saying . . . the screecher, primly pushing her cat-eye glasses back up her beaklike nose . . . and a third woman, whose tiny face was nearly hidden beneath a mop of steel-grey curls, squinting at the register she was hunched over as if she could barely see the numbers.

He wasn't looking forward to having to face any of them. Not with these purchases.

Hikaru gulped, thinking that he wanted to turn and run away. But, no, he couldn't. He'd come this far, and if he chickened out --

He was going to have to go through with it. He wanted tonight to happen. He wanted the answers to all his questions.

Rushing back to the aisle where he'd grabbed the condoms, he snatched up a two-pack of disposible razors. On the way to the register, he stopped at the magazine rack to pick up a sports publication, and he added a pack of gum for good measure.

Fortunately, the screecher and the mushroom both had customers. He rushed over to the blind woman, slapped his purchases down and looked out the window, pretending to be acutely interested in a woman juggling three huge grocery bags as she walked down the street.

He could hear the beeping of the cash register as she rang up his purchases. Dear gods, it was taking forever! Was she reading the labels? Was she wondering what kind of person would buy those things? Was she . . .

"That will be 2700 yen," the woman said in a whispery voice.

Hikaru restrained himelf from breathing a sigh of relief as he took out his wallet. When she handed him back his change, he snatched up the bag and hightailed it for the door.

But just as the automatic doors opened, he heard the mushroom say behind him, "If I get my hands on whatever punk kid has been puttin' that sex stuff out on the shelves . . ."

He rushed away from the store as fast as his feet could take him.



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Hikaru no Go is property of Yumi Hotta, Takeshi Obata and Shueisha. No profit is being made from this fanfic.