yet more HikaGo fic
Jul. 28th, 2005 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sakon76Shorter tonight, but this felt like where the piece wanted to end for now. I may not be posting over the weekend--I'll be at Costume College, and thus probably not writing fic. Hopefully I'll resume on Monday, and get back to Waya. ^^
He ended up treating Touya to okonomiyaki, which didn't seem very Touya-ish, but over time Hikaru had learned that his rival was a lot looser than people would think. Well, looser around him, anyway. He had a hard time imagining Touya eating something so casual around anyone else.
Hikaru sipped at his water while Touya ate. "I still say the bonito flakes make it look like it's in its death throes," he objected, watching the shavings writhe in the heat rising from Touya's meal.
"Drop it, Shindou," Touya warned. "Criticize your own food instead of mine."
Instead of being an amusing in-joke between the two of them, the way Touya had intended the remark, the comment hit Hikaru in the chest and lodged there.
And Touya knew him well enough to see that, despite how cool Hikaru tried to keep his expression. Touya's chopsticks lowered and he looked like he was trying to find a way to unsay his words. Or do anything to make it better.
"I think any response I made to that would end up sounding like a yaoi fan's dream," Hikaru said softly, smiling, rescuing him. Because Touya /hadn't/ intended to hurt him, and Hikaru could be adult about these things when he needed to be. He sighed softly and rested his head on one hand. "You want to know the funny thing about this, Touya?"
"What?" his rival asked quietly.
"I never /wanted/ to be special or different. These things just... they seem to keep happening to me."
"All of twice."
"Once is chance, twice is coincidence... if something happens to make a 'third,' I swear I /will/ begin believing the universe is conspiring against me."
*
Akira remembered a family trip to the beach when he was small, and his first experience with the ocean. He'd been different then, he thought, filled with laughter and childish prattle. It had been easy, then. He remembered watching the waves roll in, a deep jade green that turned into white froth around his ankles. His father had put an arm around his shoulders as he watched.
"It's not the water that you should watch for, Akira, but the motion of the wave," his father had said.
"Why?" Akira had asked.
"The water is only wet, but the wave is what will pull you under and take your breath away."
Akira still thought about that in his rare expeditions to the ocean. He preferred not to go in the summer when it was thronged with tourists, but in the autumn instead when the days were gray and cooling and he could stare meditatively into the sea without anyone walking in front of him. The motion of the wave....
Shindou, in some ways, with his eyes nearly the color of the autumn sea, reminded him of the waves. He was deep and composed of mysteries; his own power moved him forward, reaching heights and depths in his game moves, and finally he ended in a roaring crash of achievement, white foam washing across the board as the waters retreated to begin their next move. When Akira considered how he'd alternately ignored and been fascinated by Hikaru for the years between their middle school tournament game and their first game as pros, he realized he'd forgotten then what his father had said. He had been concentrating on the momentary position of the water rather than its overall spectacular movement.
It's not the water that will drown you, it's the wave....
*
A quarter-liter, more or less. He'd asked Shindou to see if he could figure out how many mouthfuls of blood he was actually drinking. Shindou, of course, had wanted to know why, and when Akira had spelled out his research, his eyes darkened for a moment. More pain. Akira was apparently on a roll tonight, and felt like a heel. But Shindou had bounced back like a bright five yen coin and cheerily agreed to the experiment.
It hadn't been quite as intense this time, or quite as long, but still... nice. Ironic, somehow, that the one person who could unfailingly get under Akira's skin was also able to make him feel like that. "Shindou," he said quietly, a bit later when they were still hanging out, doing nothing more than look over some old games they'd already discussed, seeing if they could find anything new in them. Sometimes changed eyes could spot new differences, openings not before seen, moves that could have been made. "What does it feel like to you?"
Shindou looked up at him from the board. "Have you ever been to Okinawa?" he asked. Akira shook his head. "We went there on a vacation when I was seven or eight. The ocean's so warm it's practically like being in a bathtub. I spent hours swimming. My mom worried until she figured out I wasn't going to drown."
"And?" Akira waited for the point.
"For me... it's like being submerged a few feet underwater at Okinawa. The light shines down so you can still see, the water cradles you warmly, and you can taste this clean saltiness in your mouth." Hikaru stopped, rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it? I guess it's just hard to explain."
"No." Akira shook his head again. It somehow fit, that while /he/ found freedom in these bloodlettings, Shindou, the other side of the coin, his opposite, counterpart, and... partner, he guessed, found something more resembling peace. "Here, this hane-tsuki...."
Shindou shook his head. "It doesn't play out three moves later."
They lapsed into silence for a few more moments, examining the board. "And you, Touya?" Shindou asked quietly, returning the question.
Akira looked up, but Shindou's eyes were calm and easy. "Pleasure," he answered honestly. He couldn't imagine talking to anyone but Shindou like this. Not that he intended to talk to /anyone/ else about this.
Shindou nodded. "I kind of thought so."
"Was it the same for you?"
A frown marred Shindou's features and he looked down. "Yeah." His voice held a note that was distinctly unhappy about what had happened to him. Akira couldn't blame him in the slightest. To take that feeling and have it used against you, used as a weapon to immobilize you while something was stolen.... Shindou was regarding him again. "It's... freely given, and not taken?" he asked, and his eyes were as serious as Akira had ever seen them.
"Freely given," Akira agreed quietly, with the unspoken /You're not like that person/ between them.
Shindou looked at him for a moment longer, then his head dropped slightly forward, bangs hiding his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, voice rough. Akira looked away, his own throat slightly tight. He busied himself with clearing away the game.
/You're welcome./
He ended up treating Touya to okonomiyaki, which didn't seem very Touya-ish, but over time Hikaru had learned that his rival was a lot looser than people would think. Well, looser around him, anyway. He had a hard time imagining Touya eating something so casual around anyone else.
Hikaru sipped at his water while Touya ate. "I still say the bonito flakes make it look like it's in its death throes," he objected, watching the shavings writhe in the heat rising from Touya's meal.
"Drop it, Shindou," Touya warned. "Criticize your own food instead of mine."
Instead of being an amusing in-joke between the two of them, the way Touya had intended the remark, the comment hit Hikaru in the chest and lodged there.
And Touya knew him well enough to see that, despite how cool Hikaru tried to keep his expression. Touya's chopsticks lowered and he looked like he was trying to find a way to unsay his words. Or do anything to make it better.
"I think any response I made to that would end up sounding like a yaoi fan's dream," Hikaru said softly, smiling, rescuing him. Because Touya /hadn't/ intended to hurt him, and Hikaru could be adult about these things when he needed to be. He sighed softly and rested his head on one hand. "You want to know the funny thing about this, Touya?"
"What?" his rival asked quietly.
"I never /wanted/ to be special or different. These things just... they seem to keep happening to me."
"All of twice."
"Once is chance, twice is coincidence... if something happens to make a 'third,' I swear I /will/ begin believing the universe is conspiring against me."
Akira remembered a family trip to the beach when he was small, and his first experience with the ocean. He'd been different then, he thought, filled with laughter and childish prattle. It had been easy, then. He remembered watching the waves roll in, a deep jade green that turned into white froth around his ankles. His father had put an arm around his shoulders as he watched.
"It's not the water that you should watch for, Akira, but the motion of the wave," his father had said.
"Why?" Akira had asked.
"The water is only wet, but the wave is what will pull you under and take your breath away."
Akira still thought about that in his rare expeditions to the ocean. He preferred not to go in the summer when it was thronged with tourists, but in the autumn instead when the days were gray and cooling and he could stare meditatively into the sea without anyone walking in front of him. The motion of the wave....
Shindou, in some ways, with his eyes nearly the color of the autumn sea, reminded him of the waves. He was deep and composed of mysteries; his own power moved him forward, reaching heights and depths in his game moves, and finally he ended in a roaring crash of achievement, white foam washing across the board as the waters retreated to begin their next move. When Akira considered how he'd alternately ignored and been fascinated by Hikaru for the years between their middle school tournament game and their first game as pros, he realized he'd forgotten then what his father had said. He had been concentrating on the momentary position of the water rather than its overall spectacular movement.
It's not the water that will drown you, it's the wave....
A quarter-liter, more or less. He'd asked Shindou to see if he could figure out how many mouthfuls of blood he was actually drinking. Shindou, of course, had wanted to know why, and when Akira had spelled out his research, his eyes darkened for a moment. More pain. Akira was apparently on a roll tonight, and felt like a heel. But Shindou had bounced back like a bright five yen coin and cheerily agreed to the experiment.
It hadn't been quite as intense this time, or quite as long, but still... nice. Ironic, somehow, that the one person who could unfailingly get under Akira's skin was also able to make him feel like that. "Shindou," he said quietly, a bit later when they were still hanging out, doing nothing more than look over some old games they'd already discussed, seeing if they could find anything new in them. Sometimes changed eyes could spot new differences, openings not before seen, moves that could have been made. "What does it feel like to you?"
Shindou looked up at him from the board. "Have you ever been to Okinawa?" he asked. Akira shook his head. "We went there on a vacation when I was seven or eight. The ocean's so warm it's practically like being in a bathtub. I spent hours swimming. My mom worried until she figured out I wasn't going to drown."
"And?" Akira waited for the point.
"For me... it's like being submerged a few feet underwater at Okinawa. The light shines down so you can still see, the water cradles you warmly, and you can taste this clean saltiness in your mouth." Hikaru stopped, rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it? I guess it's just hard to explain."
"No." Akira shook his head again. It somehow fit, that while /he/ found freedom in these bloodlettings, Shindou, the other side of the coin, his opposite, counterpart, and... partner, he guessed, found something more resembling peace. "Here, this hane-tsuki...."
Shindou shook his head. "It doesn't play out three moves later."
They lapsed into silence for a few more moments, examining the board. "And you, Touya?" Shindou asked quietly, returning the question.
Akira looked up, but Shindou's eyes were calm and easy. "Pleasure," he answered honestly. He couldn't imagine talking to anyone but Shindou like this. Not that he intended to talk to /anyone/ else about this.
Shindou nodded. "I kind of thought so."
"Was it the same for you?"
A frown marred Shindou's features and he looked down. "Yeah." His voice held a note that was distinctly unhappy about what had happened to him. Akira couldn't blame him in the slightest. To take that feeling and have it used against you, used as a weapon to immobilize you while something was stolen.... Shindou was regarding him again. "It's... freely given, and not taken?" he asked, and his eyes were as serious as Akira had ever seen them.
"Freely given," Akira agreed quietly, with the unspoken /You're not like that person/ between them.
Shindou looked at him for a moment longer, then his head dropped slightly forward, bangs hiding his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, voice rough. Akira looked away, his own throat slightly tight. He busied himself with clearing away the game.
/You're welcome./
