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HnG: One Precious Thing excerpt
Jun. 1st, 2003 12:08 amHikaru wiped the smear of cream from his lips with a smirk and fell satedly back onto the tatami.
"That," Waya agreed from his own prone position on the other side of the table, "was exquisite."
Akira raised an eyebrow at Isumi, as if to say "Too bad that neither of them ever learned manners."
Isumi, also still eating the apricot-and-cream dessert, replied with an arched eyebrow of his own that seemed to answer an ironic "Can't trade them in--no resale value--and we haven't a backyard to bury their bodies in. We're stuck with them."
Akira nodded in agreement, and returned his attention to his own dessert.
The phone rang, and Hikaru, who was closest to it, pulled himself up with a dramatic groan and crawled over to the instrument. "Hello, Shindou-Touya-Waya-Isumi residence," he answered. He changed the order of their names every time he answered the phone. "Yes, Shindou speaking." Akira, eyes closed and blissed out by the taste of fresh fruit and cream, didn't notice anything odd until Hikaru spoke again a minute later. "Yes, I'll be there. Thank you." His voice sounded strained, which made Akira open his eyes.
Hikaru set down the receiver and without a word or a look at any of them, left the room.
Akira, Waya, and Isumi exchanged glances. Akira set down his dessert. "I'll be right back," he said, and followed Hikaru out of the room.
By the time he got to their bedroom Hikaru already had both pots of Go stones by his knees and was laying a recreated game out across their Go board. Akira sat down to one side, next to Hikaru rather than across from him, and waited.
Hikaru's eyes were on the game, but not with the frightening shale-hard focus he tended to get when his whole mind was centered on the play of black and white. Instead, his hands were gentle as they set down the stones, one at a time. Akira didn't recognize the match he was replaying, but knew it couldn't have been a game with another pro. The black was too weak for that.
Hikaru played the match to the end before he looked at Akira.
"Who called?" Akira asked.
Hikaru looked back at the board and reached out to touch the last black piece he'd set. "This... is the last game I played with my grandfather." He picked up the black stone between a thumb and finger. "I was supposed to play him tomorrow." The stone rolled almost hypnotically between the two digits. "Now I...." He didn't say anything more.
Akira's eyes widened as comprehension sunk in. "Your grandfather's... gone?"
"Like Sai," Hikaru said quietly, still looking at the marvel of a stone he held.
(Yes, I couldn't resist opening with a slight fangirl baiting line.)
"That," Waya agreed from his own prone position on the other side of the table, "was exquisite."
Akira raised an eyebrow at Isumi, as if to say "Too bad that neither of them ever learned manners."
Isumi, also still eating the apricot-and-cream dessert, replied with an arched eyebrow of his own that seemed to answer an ironic "Can't trade them in--no resale value--and we haven't a backyard to bury their bodies in. We're stuck with them."
Akira nodded in agreement, and returned his attention to his own dessert.
The phone rang, and Hikaru, who was closest to it, pulled himself up with a dramatic groan and crawled over to the instrument. "Hello, Shindou-Touya-Waya-Isumi residence," he answered. He changed the order of their names every time he answered the phone. "Yes, Shindou speaking." Akira, eyes closed and blissed out by the taste of fresh fruit and cream, didn't notice anything odd until Hikaru spoke again a minute later. "Yes, I'll be there. Thank you." His voice sounded strained, which made Akira open his eyes.
Hikaru set down the receiver and without a word or a look at any of them, left the room.
Akira, Waya, and Isumi exchanged glances. Akira set down his dessert. "I'll be right back," he said, and followed Hikaru out of the room.
By the time he got to their bedroom Hikaru already had both pots of Go stones by his knees and was laying a recreated game out across their Go board. Akira sat down to one side, next to Hikaru rather than across from him, and waited.
Hikaru's eyes were on the game, but not with the frightening shale-hard focus he tended to get when his whole mind was centered on the play of black and white. Instead, his hands were gentle as they set down the stones, one at a time. Akira didn't recognize the match he was replaying, but knew it couldn't have been a game with another pro. The black was too weak for that.
Hikaru played the match to the end before he looked at Akira.
"Who called?" Akira asked.
Hikaru looked back at the board and reached out to touch the last black piece he'd set. "This... is the last game I played with my grandfather." He picked up the black stone between a thumb and finger. "I was supposed to play him tomorrow." The stone rolled almost hypnotically between the two digits. "Now I...." He didn't say anything more.
Akira's eyes widened as comprehension sunk in. "Your grandfather's... gone?"
"Like Sai," Hikaru said quietly, still looking at the marvel of a stone he held.
(Yes, I couldn't resist opening with a slight fangirl baiting line.)
