There is a ritual at the start of every lesson in the Go school at the Touya Residence. It is something Hikaru insists on doing, though Akira never understood it. Some of the kids loved it, some of the kids hated it. Akira often just watches from the corridor; it’s quite humorous to watch, actually, if he was entirely honest with himself.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!” counted Hikaru, as he twisted his waist with his arms outstretched in front of him. The children were lined up in a grid in the yard, mirroring his actions. “C’mon, let me see you stretch!”
A few of the kids groaned. Akira suppressed a grin and went inside. The lesson starts as soon as they are done with stretching. He often knows by their loud ruckus as they come back into the house, tossing their borrowed slippers by the entrance to the corridor for Hikaru to pick up and rearrange. Akira starts off the lesson by replaying life-and-death problems from various historic matches. Even today he continues to be amazed at the cleverness of some children in their quick thinking and game, though he rarely showed it. Akira was every bit as serious as his father when it comes to teaching Go, and it was not only once or twice he’d gotten angry and yelled loudly. To the children he was something of a formidable presence, earning him a reputation among the students as the sensei to be feared and respected at the same time (some admired him deeply). Hikaru was the one better at handling the kids as kids. He was easily approachable, his banter keeping the children’s spirits up and the overall atmosphere in the house positive.
After the discussion session is over, they move on to the match segment, where the kids are paired up to play matches against each other. Both Hikaru and Akira would watch over as the children are engrossed in their games, being sure to correct mistakes, or point to a better move when they can catch it. The house becomes quiet with only the sound of clicking stones and clocks filling the air.
Tonight, that quietness is disturbed suddenly by a clamor. When Akira spoke loudly out of the blue, the anger and threat in his low voice is particularly highlighted by the silence. It nearly made Hikaru jump.
“What did you just do?!”
Everyone turned their heads. Akira was grabbing back the arm of a student, his face calm but his eyes full of anger. He had just seen this student move two stones under the palm, taking advantage of his opponent’s distraction in studying another spot on the board. There were two battles going on in the game, and the stones that moved would give back an advantage to this student on this side of the board.
Under the pressure of his teacher’s anger, the child turned hostile. “Let me go!” He said, and yanked his arm from Akira. As he did that, a number of white and black stones he had hidden up his sleeves fell out. Uh-oh.
Hikaru saw Akira’s eyes lit ablaze with wrath. Akira pointed a finger at the door. “Out!”
The student refused to move, though he knew he shouldn’t stay. Akira grabbed his hand and started pulling him to the door.
“Touya!” Hikaru lurched forward just in time to stop Akira, breaking his grip on the student and pulling them apart.
“This is absolutely unacceptable.” Akira’s voice shook with anger, addressing the student. “How dare you!”
“Touya, calm down!” Hikaru grabbed Akira by the shoulders and pulled him away to a side of the room. “Class is still in session. I need you to stay calm.” The rest of the children were all unnerved by the interruption. It was a bit unlike Akira to lose his cool like that. “Go wait in the corridor.” Hikaru said to the student who cheated. The child kicked his feet as he did what he was told.
It took a moment before Akira was calm enough to resume class. He helped the other child clean the board, picking up the dropped stones with frustration. How had he not noticed that one of his own students was cheating? He suspected that it wasn’t the first time, seeing how easily the child had done it. If he hadn’t been looking at the right moment…
In the corridor, Hikaru approached the apprehensive boy with two cans of orange juice, one for him and one for the boy. He sat down by the edge, hanging his feet over it. Then he patted the spot next to him, motioning the child to sit by his side. The boy obeyed without a word.
“Alright, talk to me.” Hikaru said. “Why’d you do something like that?”
“…” The child remained silent, his eyes fixed on his own small hands. Hikaru eyed his student. The boy was only 10, but had a frown on his face so deep that he could as well have been worrying about world peace.
“You didn’t think you could win without cheating.” Hikaru answered for him, and the boy looked up at him. “You know, that’s the same as admitting that you were weak.”
“Sensei!”
“Am I wrong?” Hikaru asked, sipping from his can.
“…” The child’s gaze returned to his hands, his frown deepening. “No, you’re right.” He balled his hands into fists. “It’s that kid… he’s only 6, but he’s already better than me…”
Hikaru felt sheepish; that sounded very much like someone he knew. “So you’d cheat a win out of him? Do you really think that counts as winning?” He studied the boy’s expression, and could see the guilt in the child’s eyes. It’s not the first time he had cheated, it seems. “And? Do you feel stronger after winning against him this way?”
The boy began to cry. Hikaru let out a sigh and patted his head gently. “Let me tell you something about someone I knew.” He said with a faint smile, remembering a beautiful head of long black hair. “He was the greatest Go player of all time. He loved Go with his entire being. It was his life.” He paused for a moment, waiting for the boy to regain his composure. “Kinda like Akira-sensei.”
The boy nodded.
“Well, one day someone cheated him in a game.” Hikaru continued. “And from then on, he couldn’t play Go anymore. He was banished from his city.”
“Wha…?” The boy said. “But why?”
“Because he lost the game that put his reputation at stake, after being cheated by his opponent. His life was forever changed after that. He became an existence that was unable to even hold Go stones with his own hands. Go was his only joy in life, and that was taken away from him.” Hikaru said. “When you decide to cheat someone, and they lose because of it, they are losing more than just a game. They could be losing their livelihood, especially for those who are pros, or plan to become pros like yourself. What I’m trying to say is, you need to understand the gravity of your actions, not just on the Go board but outside of it as well.” For the first time since they started their talk, Hikaru showed seriousness in his eyes. He took the boy’s hands in his, and said, “These are your hands, and yours alone. It is your decision what to do with them, and what kind of Go game you will play with them. But remember this: there are people who would give anything to play another game with their own hands, if only they were able. So think about that the next time you want to use your hands to cheat. Think about whether there really is anything to gain from a win like that. If you really want to get stronger in Go, you should know that cheating won’t get you there. Go ahead and ask yourself: is there any point in a game that you won by cheating? Was it any fun?”
The boy swallowed. He thought Akira-sensei was scary when mad, but Shindou-sensei’s seriousness was far scarier. “I… I’m sorry.” He mumbled.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Hikaru smiled. He got up from his spot, and helped the boy up as well. “C’mon.”
They went back inside the house, where the class had already been dismissed and Akira was putting away the Go boards. He seemed a little calmer than before. Hikaru ushered the boy towards Akira.
“A-Akira-sensei.” He started. “I’m sorry.”
“…You won’t do it again?” Akira asked.
“I promise.” The boy nodded.
“And?”
“And… I’ll apologize to him tomorrow, properly.” The boy answered, his head low.
After a long pause, Akira sighed and patted the boy’s head. “Alright, you can go home.”
The boy looked up to find a soft smile across Akira-sensei’s face that he had never seen before. He nearly started crying again, if not for Hikaru hurrying him to get home before it gets too dark outside.
“Man, you scared me there for a moment.” Hikaru said after closing the door. It was a strange feeling seeing Akira be so mad at someone other than himself.
“Yes, I admit I overreacted a little bit.” Akira sighed as they headed to their bedroom. It had been a long day and he felt quite tired. He grabbed his pajamas from the closet and headed towards the bathroom to change and wash up.
That wasn’t exactly just “a little bit”… Thought Hikaru, though he refrained from voicing it out loud. I wonder what’s gotten into him… He looked at Akira across the hallway, as the latter stared into the mirror applying facial moisturizer before brushing his hair down with a comb.
“Akira, do you want a massage?”
“What?” Akira squeaked, surprised.
“I’ll give you one; your hands are dry again, aren’t they?” Hikaru found a spot on the tatami and patted on it, motioning Akira to come sit down. Nodding, Akira took a bottle of hand lotion from the vanity and moved back into the bedroom, sitting down apprehensively. Hikaru greased his own hands with the lotion and opened his palms at Akira, who put his right hand into them. Hikaru started out with massaging Akira’s palm, working around his thin fingers. He could feel the tension in the finger joints as he rubbed them gently.
“I was wondering… how’d you get him to admit fault?” Akira asked, his eyes following the motion of Hikaru’s hands. “What’d you say to him?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Shindou!”
Hikaru laughed. “Just kidding. You know, things he needed to hear. Like how cheating isn’t gonna help him, how it makes the games really pointless, that kind of stuff.” He said. “And… you know how Sai had to play Go through me because he couldn’t play it himself? I talked about that. The kid still has his own hands; he needs to think hard about what kind of game he wants to play with them.” He said as he kneaded Akira’s wrist.
“I see.” Akira said, allowing Hikaru to interlock their fingers together so that he can roll Akira’s hand around the wrist to loosen it.
“You know, now that I think about it, you and Sai have a lot in common.” Hikaru commented as he squeezed and pulled each of Akira’s fingers from its joint. He could still remember feeling Sai’s stir of emotions whenever he saw people cheating, playing unfairly or using Go to bully others. “You’re both Go fanatics. Sai was a little more level-headed though; you’d just scream your head off at people.”
Hikaru expected a snarky comeback from Akira for his comment, but instead Akira remained silent. “Akira?”
“Huh?”
“What’s wrong?” Hikaru asked, concerned. “You seem out of it.”
“It’s nothing… I was just…” Akira sighed, closing his eyes. “Disappointed, in myself.”
“Why?”
“I should have noticed it sooner.” He answered. “I don’t think it was his first time cheating. I can’t believe I let it slip this whole time.”
“It’s hard to catch. We have to watch over so many kids.” Hikaru put down Akira’s right hand and started on his left. “Do you remember Mitani? The guy that played first board at the Go club tournament, back in middle school? He was cheating at Go salons against old men, and Tsutsui-senpai said the same thing - nobody would ever even notice it.”
“But once you know they’ve done it…” Akira started, but didn’t want to finish the sentence.
“It’ll be alright.” Hikaru squeezed Akira’s hand reassuringly. “We caught him early, and I talked him through it. We’ll just have to keep watch for a little bit.” He looked at his husband with a grin on his face.
Hikaru’s positivity was a comforting sight to Akira. He remembered those few years just after Sai’s disappearance and Hikaru’s absence from matches, how Hikaru always seemed to be carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders. Even though they still argued and Hikaru talked loudly as he did before, there were moments when Hikaru would be unnervingly quiet, looking like he was lost in deep thought. It was as though the light of Shindou Hikaru was overshadowed by a dark veil. Akira watched all along the years of healing it took for Hikaru to regain the bright, shining personality he had when they first met (and even still it was never completely back, but Akira wouldn’t dare to ask for more). He can even talk about Sai now without becoming immediately emotional.
“Hm, yeah.” Akira smiled, and held Hikaru’s face with his other hand to give him a kiss, his eyes fluttering to a close. Sai, wherever you are out there…I’m okay now, and so is Shindou.
You are seeing this because I’ve made this chapter a private post. The reason for it is because the chapter needs an extra before-you-read warning for it either contains OOC-ness, excessive graphical details/pornography, lack of plot, or otherwise do not represent a logical continuation of the reboot storyline. The link to the chapter is provided below, but if you dislike any of the above warning signs, you understand that proceeding to read the chapter may induce an unsatisfactory reading experience.
They hadn’t planned to tell anyone about their… engagement. Hikaru did say he wanted to have a proper “wedding,” whatever the hell that meant, but he didn’t have a clear idea of what to do in mind. Of course, they couldn’t actually get married the conventional way; but he knew there was another method to get Touya into his family register. The problem is, before he had the time to go research about that, something else happened that kept both of their mind away from this issue.
Just before the start of the championship season this year in spring, Ochi was exempted from his tournament matches by embarking on a three-month program in Korea, sponsored by the Go Institute. When he came back in the thick of May among the various league preliminaries, he publicly challenged both Touya and Shindou. It was published in an article on the Weekly Go. Isumi tried to persuade Ochi to take it back, but to no avail. Everyone wonder what’s gotten into Ochi; it was a known fact that he was always a little obsessed about Touya, but why Shindou too, and why now?
“He’s after you!” Shindou slammed the paper down onto the dining table while having breakfast with Akira the morning the article was published. “I know it! He’s coming onto me after you!”
“Well I know that but can you keep it down?” Akira said nonchalantly, drinking his coffee, not in the least bit bothered by this turn of events.
“No, I don’t mean just in Go. I mean he’s got a thing for you!” Hikaru said.
“I think you’re overthinking.” Akira said, finishing up his breakfast and taking the dishes to the sink.
“Aren’t you worried?” Hikaru asked.
“About what?” Akira asked in return.
“That maybe he knows about us, and he’s trying to split us up.”
“Enough is enough, Shindou.” Akira flicked his finger against Hikaru’s forehead, earning a loud “ow!” for a response. “You’re being paranoid, nothing like that’s gonna happen, and I’m going to accept his challenge.”
“You’re going to what?!”
“I’m gonna accept his challenge.” Akira repeated. “He just came back from Korea. I wanna see how much stronger he’s gotten.”
“Youare aware that if you lose, he’s gonna ask for something, right?”
“Oh, so I’m gonna lose?” Akira raised his eyebrows questioningly. “And just what do you think he’s gonna ask for?”
“I don’t know, something stupid like, ‘forget Shindou and consider me your rival.’” Hikaru mocked, because that was what happened at the pro exams.
“You’re still bitter over that?” Akira sighed. There is no end to Shindou’s jealousy. “Well in that case, you’d better win against him.”
“Me?! What do you mean-”
“It means you’re going to accept the challenge too, Shindou Hikaru.” Akira said, a smirk growing on his face. “Or are you scared about losing?”
Hikaru could feel his blood rising to his head. Damn this man in front of him, and damn Ochi too! “Like hell I would!”
The Go Institute held great interest over this three-way match, so much so that they offered to arrange a room for each of their matches. Akira arrived, in his formal kimono robe much as he often dressed to matches these days, to the room early. The matches would be televised within the Institute, and published on the magazine afterwards. It had been a long time since he last played against Ochi. Having been his teacher once, Akira was well aware of Ochi’s level of Go, which is quite high, but Akira was often a few steps ahead, so that Ochi was never quite catching up enough to have matches arranged between them, but then also not far behind enough for Akira to play against him in any kind of teaching games. Perhaps Ochi did have something similar to Shindou, in the way he had been trying to catch up to him. However…
“He’s here.” Amano, now a director in the PR department of the Institute, came into the room. Following closely behind was Ochi, still donning those round glasses. He hadn’t grown much over the years. If Akira had been standing, he would easily be taller than Ochi. Hikaru would have towered over him.
Ochi kneeled down on the other side of the Go board across from him. His small eyes looked serious and determined. Before the match began, he laid down his demands.
“I heard you’re living with Shindou.” Ochi said. “You run a Go school with him?”
“Yes.” Akira said calmly. “And?”
“If I win against you today,” Ochi continued. “Will you move him out and have me as your partner in the school?”
Akira wanted to sigh out loud, but did it internally. It seemed that Shindou’s concerns weren’t entirely unfounded after all.
“Not unless you win against him too.” Akira said. “You’re the one who challenged us; I take it you have the confidence to beat us both?”
“I do!” Ochi said, a little emotionally. “I didn’t spend three months in Korea for nothing!”
“Very well.” Akira nodded. “Then let us play.”
And so the game began. As expected, Ochi’s game had gained another level of refinement. The cleverness and dexterity with which he controlled his stone formations were very intriguing indeed. But Akira himself hadn’t been entirely shut away in Japan himself. He had always kept track of international developments in Go, especially in Korea. Through the years, he stayed in contact with Mr. Yun, the teacher from Kaio Middle, who provided him with periodic updates on the best players’ games from Korea. It was a way for him to study as well.
Their game was soon locked into an even battle. Ochi was playing a good game, but it wasn’t anything that Akira couldn’t have expected. Ochi seemed to think that he had the left side of the board secured, but Akira saw one way for his stones to break through.
“There is one other thing I haven’t told you.” Ochi suddenly said, before laying a stone in a calculated attack on Akira’s side of the board. It was a brilliant move, one that reminded Akira quite of… “In Korea, I’ve actually been studying under your father, among other professionals.”
“My father?” Akira said, surprised. He knew his father didn’t stay only in China; for whatever reason that reinvigorated his spirits, he had been quite the traveler in the region. He looked again at the stone that Ochi had just laid down. Indeed it was a move similar to all of his father’s students that Akira had played against. He himself had been on the receiving end of this attack numerous times, and each time his father would come up with a different way to block his counterattacks. But something about Ochi’s strategy… And he still hasn’t noticed his weakness on the left side.
“Yes, and I told him about your… situation with Shindou.” Ochi said. “He’s curious, you know. About what’s going between you and him.”
Was that a threat he just heard? Akira wasn’t sure what Ochi was trying to get at, but now he had to tread carefully. He thought he knew what this whole match was about, what Ochi had really been trying to do by bringing on these two challenges. But now, with this new information about his father included, Akira’s vision is once again clouded. Of course, the logical thing to do here would be to defend against Ochi’s attack, but…
What is it that you’re trying to tell me, father? Through this student, Ochi? Akira took his time thinking of his next move. He looked at Ochi once again, those narrow eyes looking mean and tense. It didn’t make sense that his father would let Ochi come back to Japan to challenge him in this state, at this level. His training is… incomplete. If Touya Kouyou was truly curious about Akira and Shindou, if he’d wanted Ochi to test their skills in Go, then this game could hardly explain it. It’s almost as if… almost as if Ochi didn’t finish his training, and came back early!
“I don’t know what you’ve been talking about to my father, but what’s clear to me is that you haven’t changed in years.” Akira said, and started on his first stone invading into the left side Ochi thought he’d secured.
The move caught Ochi off guard for a minute, but soon he regained his composure. His training with Touya Kouyou had familiarized him with the way Akira plays. He had some idea how Akira planned to move forward, but if he’d just continue the attack he’d initiated earlier, he could still win this game, because Akira wouldn’t have time to pull off the attack on the left side. “It’s too early to jump to conclusions, Touya!”
And Akira was well aware of that. Ochi probably had no idea, but Akira now plans on losing this game. He had to, because there are moves later on that he needed to make in order to teach Ochi. He didn’t know what happened in Korea between Ochi and his father, but Ochi must have stopped his training when he was very close to attaining another level of skill. Knowing Ochi, it probably had something to do with his pride. But that didn’t concern Akira; what did concern him is that his father had now practically forced him to play against Shindou’s favor, to give Shindou the lower hand. His father knew him well indeed; as a Go player with immense pride and respect for the game, Akira was not one to blindly defeat a student for the sake of his own win. Ochi was badly in need of more teaching, and his father left the task to him, Touya Akira, to do it, even if it meant that he would be putting Shindou at a disadvantage in the latter game. He had to do it for Ochi’s sake. Does this mean that his father had that high of an opinion of Shindou’s game? Father… I can trust you, right? And Shindou… I can trust you too, right?
Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Akira set out to continue his attack on the left side. He took the bare minimum steps needed to defend his formations under Ochi’s attack, just long enough for him to get to the last few steps. Accordingly, Ochi made several moves to defend his left side, as Akira expected. As the game started to come to a close, Ochi thought he had it in the bag. And he very much did, but only because his opponent was Akira and only because Akira realized what he needed to do so late in the game. It seemed as though Akira’s stones under Ochi’s attack were dead, and the attack Akira started on Ochi’s left side was too incomplete to win a comeback. And then Akira did it: that one move that connected, that one move that would have saved all of Akira’s stones on the lower portion under Ochi’s attack. Ochi was stumped; he nearly fell off his seat cushion. It was a move Ochi simply could not have thought of, a beautiful move. Akira eyed Ochi carefully; that move is what Shindou would have done, and would be capable of pulling off if he started on it much earlier. If Ochi truly wanted to defeat Shindou, he would have to at least have foreseen that move. Now, how will Ochi respond?
After a long pause, Ochi finally found the counter move. At that point, Akira resigned. Ochi had learned his lesson, and that was Akira’s end goal. He was not happy about it; he would’ve liked to not have to give Ochi the upper hand, but his father left him no choice. Now all he could do is trust that Shindou will win his game.
“I won…” Ochi’s voice was shaking. “I actually won… against Touya Akira.”
Akira felt the need to sigh a second time that day. Poor Ochi… he wasn’t even aware that he’d been given a teaching game. It seemed like an awful waste of time that he went all the way to Korea to learn from his father and other professionals there, yet never managed to put down his pride.
“Well, what do you say, Touya?! I won!” Ochi exclaimed, looking up from the board at Touya. His smile faltered, however, upon seeing Akira’s calm demeanor.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to celebrate.” Akira said. Now he understood the difference between Ochi and Shindou. Yes, Ochi did share Shindou’s adamant desire to overtake Akira in Go, but he was doing it out of his pride, out of a desire to prove his own worth. Shindou, on the other hand, had been chasing after Akira because he genuinely respected and admired Akira’s Go. Akira hadn’t met very many peers in his life who ever treated him that way. Most share Ochi’s attitude, hoping to defeat Akira as a way to bolster their own low self-esteem or overblown ego. Of course, in Akira’s experience, those kind of people often never rise above. “Good luck with your next match, Ochi. Thank you for the game.”
“What?! He lost?!” Hikaru exclaimed upon hearing the results of Akira’s match with Ochi from Waya.
“Yeah, Amano-san showed it to me. Here, this is the game record,” said Waya, handing the piece of paper to Shindou. The game looked fine for the first half. Ochi’s game did improve quite a bit, but Akira was holding his own until Ochi attacked the lower formation. But even then… And what’s this? What was Akira doing? He could’ve easily cut off the attack at that point, but he kept concentrating on attacking the left side instead…
“I guess the almighty Touya Akira isn’t that strong after all. I mean, Ochi did go to Korea for three months, but you know Ochi’s game. I still didn’t think he’d actually beat Touya.” Waya went on. “I mean, I know you play Touya all the time. Do you think Ochi has actually gotten that strong?”
“…Ochi didn’t win.” Shindou said quietly.
“Huh?” Waya said. “What are you talking about, Shindou? Didn’t you see the game record? Touya resigned, at step…”
“I know, but Ochi didn’t win.” Shindou repeated. He grabbed his bag and stood up. “I gotta go.”
“Huh? Wait, Shindou!” Waya exclaimed, but Shindou was already out of the fast food restaurant, headed for the train station.
On the way home, Shindou could hardly keep his feelings of anxiety down. Akira must be home by now to prepare for the evening lesson for the kids, so he’s gonna have a good talk with him about why he played that kind of game with Ochi. Something must have happened, either before the game started, or midway through the game, or both. But he won’t know unless he found out from Akira himself.
“I’m home!” Shindou called out after he arrived. “Touya?” There was no response. He kicked off his shoes and walked in. Where was Touya? In the end he found him in the kitchen, spacing out in front of the kettle with a cup of tea in hand. “Touya.”
Finally Akira responded, turning around and mumbling, “Oh, welcome home.”
“I saw the game record.” Shindou said. Akira’s face turned dark. “Why’d you play like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t fool me, Touya. I know you best.” Shindou said. “That was a teaching game, wasn’t it? You let Ochi win on purpose. What did Ochi say to you? What were the stakes?”
“…” Akira knew this conversation was inevitable. That was part of why he wasn’t happy about what his father’d done. “…He wanted you to leave the house if we both lose. He wanted in on the Go school.”
Shindou gasped when he heard. He knew Ochi would ask for something ludicrous, but it just made it that much worse when Akira actually let Ochi win. “And you had to choose to give him a teaching game at that moment?! What were you thinking?!”
“I know, Shindou. I don’t like it either.” Akira said, sipping his tea. “But the real opponent that Ochi must face isn’t me.” He placed a hand on Shindou’s shoulder. “It’s you, Shindou.”
“I know.” Shindou said, his brows knit in a frown. “And that’s why I’m asking, why on earth are you helping a guy who’s been trying to kick your husband out?”
“Because it was the right thing to do at the time. Ochi needed that lesson as a Go player.” Akira answered. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I did what I felt I had to do. Besides, if you can’t win against him in this state, then maybe you don’t deserve to be my husband after all.”
“Touya…!”
“I’m not the only one who thinks so, Shindou.” Akira said. “Ochi told me he’s been learning Go from my father in Korea.”
“Touya-sensei?! But why? How?”
“My father has been traveling. I’m sure he’s been teaching Go alongside his own matches. There’s no reason for him to say no, especially not when the student who came asking is as talented as Ochi.” Akira continued. “I’m thinking… That my father might be trying to use Ochi to measure our games, especially yours.”
“Again?! Geez, what is it with you father and son? Do you enjoy using people or something?” Shindou asked. He was actually starting to feel a little sorry for Ochi. “You know, it’s precisely this kind of meddling you do that gets us into this mess to begin with. None of this would’ve happen if you didn’t drag Ochi into all this at first.”
“Well, I’m sorry! But I wouldn’t have had to do that if someone was a little quicker in catching up to me!” Akira complained.
“I was trying my best! I barely started Go a year before that!” Shindou replied, a little loudly, then sighed when he saw the barely visible pout on Akira’s face. “Okay, you know what, let’s not start arguing about this again.” He put his hand on Akira’s shoulder. “You said Touya-sensei might be trying to test us… Do you think that he…”
“Yes, I do, Shindou. I think he already knows, and not just about us living together.” Akira’s eyes were sharp. “I think he knows about us, and I think it’s not far away when the day comes that he’d ask to play against you directly himself.”
“So, is that how asking for a hand in marriage goes in the Touya household? The groom has to win a Go game against the father?”
“Shindou! I’m being serious!”
“And so am I.” Shindou’s eyes turned just as sharp. “I know what I need to do. Just you watch, I’m not gonna let Ochi get his way. I’m not gonna let him take you away from me.”
“Shindou…” Akira looked at Hikaru’s focused eyes, and thought that there was nothing in the world that made him a happier man than seeing Hikaru being serious about Go. “Come on,” he broke into a soft smile and patted Shindou’s hand on his shoulder. “The kids will be here any minute.”
When the game day for Shindou and Ochi’s match came, Ochi started the day out feeling confident. He had won against Touya, even though it was a tight win. And no matter what Touya Akira said, he just couldn’t picture Shindou being harder to defeat than Touya. Sure, Shindou’s skill displayed at the Hokuto Cup preliminaries and through the Honinbou title matches were incredible, but those were years ago, and Ochi isn’t the same player now as he was then. Yes, now he was a player capable of defeating Touya Akira, so defeating Shindou was not out of the question entirely.
He kept telling himself that until Shindou appeared in the room. He was so used to seeing Shindou outside of matches in his casual clothing, that he had to do a double take when he saw Shindou in a dark blazer and white shirt looking fresh and clean-cut. Shindou’s facial expression had no trace of the usual banter and jest, but was instead set with heavy solemnity that made him seem years older and far more mature. It unnerved Ochi a slight bit, however unwilling he might be to admit it. No matter, he’d tell himself, I can win this and finally Touya Akira will look at me instead of at him.
The match started off with Ochi making quite aggressive moves. He knew Shindou was strong in comebacks and endgames, so he wanted to build his lead from early on. His strategy worked for a while: Shindou had to fight very hard to push back the advances Ochi was making in his territories. Touya Akira wasn’t entirely lying after all; Shindou was very good. His hand was steady despite playing with his unfamiliar left hand in place of his injured right. But Ochi was sure that he had built enough lead to prevent Shindou from coming back. He never saw it coming: the formations that Shindou had laid across the board, appearing to a shallow reader to be rigorous attempts to block Ochi’s attacks, had slowly but surely formed into a fortress of sorts. By the time Ochi realized it, it was too late. He had no idea Shindou was capable of reading so far into the game, of making defensive moves that were simultaneously foundation stones for a complete overtake towards the end. Ochi didn’t manage to attack Shindou at all! Shindou led him on with each step, each stone! When this dawned on Ochi, he looked up at his opponent, and found a pair of eyes with such ardent concentration on the board, that he thought Shindou would surely have bore holes into the Go board. So these are the eyes that Touya Akira look at everyday, the eyes that he finds worthy of his own gaze…
Look very carefully, Ochi. This is Shindou Hikaru as he is now. Akira had silently slipped into the room after he finished playing his own Kisei League match scheduled for that morning, and was presently kneeling on a spectator’s seat, watching the match with almost just as much concentration as Shindou. Unless you can show yourself to be of equal standing, I won’t be looking at anyone else but him.
“I… resign.” Ochi’s whisper of resignation came after a long, long pause. He had never felt so disappointed, so mad with himself. Once again he had underestimated his opponent, Shindou. He had thought that his three months of training in Korea, the country known for Her rigorous advancements in the game of Go far beyond that of Japan, put him on higher ground, and had grown content with the notion. Once again he had forgotten how Shindou, someone who caught the attention of numerous title-holders since his early days as an Insei, was just as capable of improving his Go.
“Thank you, Ochi. It was a good game.” Shindou said, his eyes returning to a softer tone. He picked up his sensu and moved to stand up, but was stopped by Ochi’s sudden question.
“So you’ve beaten Touya?” Ochi asked. His hands were gripping his pants, shaking. “Shindou, have you done it? You’re stronger than Touya now? Tell me! I need to know!”
“Not really.” Shindou answered, his eyes downcast. “I play him everyday, and even then I still only win some and lose some.”
“Then what was that match the other day?!” Ochi asked, looking up at Shindou with tears threatening to leave his eyes. “How did I win against him? I don’t understand…”
Shindou gulped. He didn’t want to tell Ochi the truth. Certainly Shindou is the last person Ochi would’ve wanted to hear it from, if he hadn’t already figured it out himself now. “I think… perhaps you already know the answer. Ochi, you are strong. You just… need to keep learning. We all do.”
And with that, Ochi broke into silent sobs. Hikaru sighed, feeling like he was looking at a nostalgic image of himself from long ago. He pushed himself up, and only then did he notice that Akira was in the room. “Touya!”
Ochi’s head whipped up upon hearing the name. There Touya was, dressed in a black suit over white shirt and blue tie, his thick black hair tied back cleanly, looking somewhat otherworldly. He smiled gently at Shindou as the latter approached him. They spoke of the game; Touya said he wanted to review it with Shindou right away, to which Shindou complained that he was hungry so they should do it after lunch, putting his arm around Touya’s shoulders as he led them to exit the room. Then Akira accused Shindou of always falling asleep from food coma, earning laughter from the record-keeper and Amano and a noise of protest from Shindou. Then Akira chuckled himself, drawing his left hand to his lips, and that was when Ochi noticed: Akira was wearing a ring, and not far away on his shoulders, sure enough there was Shindou’s hand too, wearing a ring that looked very similar.
It didn’t take long before Ochi understood what that meant.
That evening, Waya, Isumi, Nase, Fuku, Honda, and Iijima decided to throw a celebration for Hikaru’s victory. Of course, they didn’t invite Ochi, knowing that he’d probably be holed up in a bathroom somewhere doing his creepy poking-on-the-bathroom-door thing (Hikaru was skeptical that Ochi still had that habit, but Waya and Honda insisted that it remains true to this day). They went to an izakaya and got a large table; and it was good that they did, because they hadn’t expected Hikaru to bring Touya along with him when he arrived.
Most of them didn’t know what to say or talk about with Touya. It felt as though there was an unapproachable barrier between him and them. Nase was the first one to break the ice; she asked him to help her pass along the beer, to which he kindly agreed. His smile helped change the atmosphere; it was the first time they’d seen him outside his matches, acting like a normal human being (”Of course he’s a normal human! What did you guys think he was?” so Hikaru would say), and with unexpected kindness and politeness. It seemed that they all had a misconception about who he was.
All except for one, for Waya remained unconvinced. While Akira helped pour beer into everyone’s glasses, Waya alone refused the gesture.
“Why the hell is he here, Shindou?! Aren’t you guys rivals?” He asked with a defiant and unhappy tone. “He didn’t even win in his match against Ochi. I bet you can’t act so high and almighty to Shindou anymore, now can you, Touya?” In his eyes Touya Akira was still cocky as hell, always acting like he’s too good for everyone else. Just what did Shindou think he was doing bringing him here?
Or so he was thinking, when suddenly hard across the top of his head came a smack from none other than Shindou Hikaru himself.
“Watch your mouth, Waya!” Hikaru scolded while taking the beer from Akira to pour some in his own glass. “Don’t you go around trashing Touya in front of me.”
“What’d you say?!” Waya yelled, getting ready to fight Hikaru.
“You heard me!” Hikaru, too, was ready. The two of them locked their left arms in a mock arm-wrestling game, pushing against each other angrily. “If you wanna talk trash about Touya you can do it after you’ve beaten him in Go!” Which for Waya, let’s be honest, is likely to be never.
“Oh now you’ve said it!”
“Alright, you guys, cut it out!” Isumi and Nase both stepped in, pulling them away from each other. Watching all of this, Akira couldn’t hold it in. He laughed out loud, throwing his hand up to cover his mouth. It was the first time in a long time he’d laughed so hard, hard enough to have tears in his eyes, to have his sides hurting. It was an astonishing sight for most of those present, because they had rarely seen Touya Akira smile, let alone laugh in such a manner. Waya, in particular, blinked his eyes like an idiot at the sight. In fact, he blushed a little when he realized that he found Touya Akira’s laughter somewhat adorable. Only Hikaru wore a smug expression on his face, having seen Akira laugh like this before, and took this opportunity to completely dishevel Waya’s hair by jamming his able hand into it.
And thus the night of celebration went on, filled with laughter, jollies, and good beer. Waya got majorly wasted, and had to rely on Isumi to stand when it came time to go home. They parted ways after saying their goodbyes outside the restaurant, Hikaru and Akira headed in the same direction to the same home, and the others either going for the station or calling a taxi.
“Nase?” Isumi asked, a drunk Waya leaning on him, as he noticed that she was staring intently behind the two men walking away. She volunteered to help him catch a taxi so he could take Waya home, but she seemed distracted.
“Say, Isumi…” She whispered. She noticed something, when she and Isumi helped drag Hikaru and Waya away from each other, and then again when Akira laughed. They were wearing rings, and not just any random rings, but a pair that matched, white and black diamonds. “Those two…”
“…You noticed too?” Isumi’s voice was quiet. He was a very perceptive person. Nase looked at him, surprised. He shrugged. “I mean… it’s kinda obvious if you paid attention. I wonder why they don’t just tell us already.” Just as he said that, Waya suddenly groaned loudly, slurring a string of gibberish.
“Well maybe there’s your answer. With him around like that it’ll be hard to even start the conversation.” Nase chuckled, and went forth to flag down a taxi.
Hikaru and Akira decided to take a detour stroll before going home, just to walk off the alcohol. The night was beautiful with a clear sky and little wind. They both walked in silence, relishing in Hikaru’s victory and the sense of security that he didn’t have to get kicked out of Touya’s house. He briefly wondered if that really would have happened if he too lost to Ochi. But then it’s Touya Akira we’re talking about here; if Touya Kouyou was anything to go by, Akira most likely would’ve kept his word. Feeling a contradictory whirlwind of frustration and relief coming on, Hikaru instinctively searched for Akira’s hand.
“Shindou!” Akira exclaimed. “What if someone sees us?”
“There’s no one out here.” Hikaru waved the cast on his right arm slightly in a dismissive gesture. It was fairly late out, and the sky was quite dark. They walked by the river behind the road that led to the Touya house, where there were few lights and it was dark enough to see the stars.
“Touya, look.” Hikaru pointed at the sky with their interconnected hands, dragging Touya’s attention to the black blanket up above. “You know, I always thought that the stars in the sky looked like a Go board.”
“A Go board?”
“Yeah.” Hikaru said, his eyes sparkling as though they could reflect the stars. “All those white stones, surrounded by a sea of black.”
“Well then… who’s winning?” Akira smiled. It was a fun idea to entertain.
“I don’t know.” Shindou shrugged. “Black looks like it’s infinite, but then they say there’s an infinite number of stars, most of them we just can’t see.”
“But isn’t black surrounding white? Wouldn’t it win by that definition?”
“Yeah, but…” Hikaru mused for a moment. “Black is formless if the white stars aren’t there, isn’t it? It’s not really surrounding anything if white isn’t there. It’s only when the white stars place themselves on the board do we start to see a formation. Black may come first and is all-powerful and all-encompassing, but without white it is nothing.” He looked at Akira, a sheepish grin plastered across his face. “Am I making any sense?”
“Hardly.” Akira chuckled, and his laughter seemed to infect Hikaru as well.
“Let’s go home and play.” He said, tugging on Akira’s hand. Akira grinned back at him.
Though Hikaru only has one title so far, it was a hard-fought and well-deserved one. It shook the whole Go profession when he took the Honinbou title from Kuwabara. People have long been underestimating his skill in Go, so no one saw that one coming except for the few who had set their sights on Shindou early on.
Ogata was one of them, though he hadn’t thought his time would come this early. It was nearly just as much a shock for himself when he faced off with Shindou. He did always know the boy was special, but he had not expected the type of Go game they had at the Honinbou League match. Shindou’s game was… brilliant. His moves would sometimes seem unplanned, as though spurred by spontaneous eureka moments, only to come back later, sometimes much later in the game as one built formation. It was becoming clear to Ogata that over the years, Shindou’s game has reached a new level of maturity. His endless patience and power to endure continued to remind Ogata the game of someone great. Yes, it reminded him very much that of Sai.
“Sai…” Ogata let the word slip as he waited for the elevator. Today was one of his title defending matches with Touya Akira on the Jyudan title. Touya, who had just arrived at the elevator lobby in his formal kimono robe, seemed to have heard him speak that name. Surprise flickered across Touya’s young features, quickly replaced by a look of seriousness. Touya… did he know about Sai? He must, mustn’t he? Back when Shindou had newly become a pro, when Touya Kouyou had his heart attack, there was a great match between Touya-sensei and Sai on the internet, a match that was set up in advance by Shindou. Touya Kouyou must know about Sai, and so must Akira.
“You know who Sai is, don’t you?” Ogata said, not looking at Akira directly. “Even if you didn’t know back then when your father had that match with Sai, you must know now… I know you live together with Shindou. He told you, hasn’t he?” He asked, stealing a look at Touya. Touya’s gaze remained fixed at the elevator door; his eyes looked the angriest, most hostile Ogata had ever seen them. Akira’s jaw, framed by the straight locks of his dark hair and hair line where he had it tied back, was clenched tight.
Akira hadn’t thought that Ogata was still trying to find out about Sai. It bothered him, because Ogata had been so crass about it. Akira would never forget the anguish on Hikaru’s face when he confessed everything about Sai to him, the tears that fell silently. He wouldn’t forget how hard Hikaru’s hands were gripping his, searching for support, something to hold onto. It was something incredibly intimate to Hikaru, something he chose to share with Akira and no one else. From the moment Hikaru told him the truth, Akira had silently vowed to protect this secret, to protect Shindou, to the very end. So whenever Ogata goes around demanding that they tell him, Akira feels an anger bubbling below the surface of his calmness.
“If I win against you today,” Ogata continued, “You have to tell me.”
“I won’t lose.” Akira said curtly. His answer was so short, so quiet, yet so firmly spoken, that Ogata felt threatened. Only then did he noticed the immense resolve in Akira’s eyes, the determination that whatever he knew about Sai, it was a secret he was willing to defend to his death.
Later that day, throughout the match, Akira retained a clarity of mind that he had never reached before. With only one goal in mind, he attacked Ogata’s stone formations mercilessly, defended his lead flawlessly, and left nowhere for Ogata to make a comeback. It seemed that Ogata had forgotten that, like Shindou’s, Akira’s game had gained more maturity over time too. That’s right; they play against each other all the time! How could he have forgotten that?
Ogata lost to Akira that day by a close one and a half point. Touya Akira had come a long way since that time he lost to Ogata at the Honinbou League match years ago. Ogata fought relentlessly for the three remaining Jyudan challenge matches, hoping to counter Akira and force him into defeat, just so he could finally hear about Sai, but Akira didn’t budge. With resolve and true, pure strength, Akira took the title of Jyudan from Ogata, winning his third title in much the same fair manner that Ogata had so grossly boasted about years ago at that Honinbou League match. Except, of course, unlike Ogata, Akira made no comment about how his strength has overcome the older man. Instead, he had only one thing to say.
“Ogata-san,” said Akira at the last match, after he had won by a mere half a point. It took a moment before Ogata was willing to pry his eyes away from the board, finding it hard to believe that he had misread where his territory was leading and thus his points. He looked up at Akira who, in his dark blue kimono robe, sporting his straight cropped bangs and smooth obsidian hair in a lengthy ponytail, looked something of a samurai warrior from the romantic ages. “I have only one thing to ask of you.”
“…What is it?”
“Please don’t ask me or Shindou about Sai anymore.” Akira said simply. His eyes, once again, were clear and unwavering. He appeared to have a full understanding of some sort of goal Ogata simply could not fathom.
“…Very well.” Grudgingly Ogata accepted. He had to face it: he lost to Akira’s determination. Whatever it was that he was protecting, Akira would not give it up easily.
“Thank you.” Akira bowed his head slightly, and then left the room and Ogata to himself. Damn! Ogata couldn’t help the intense feeling of disappointment and frustration in himself. The idea that Touya Akira had gotten so strong that he himself was overpowered was a very hard pill to swallow. Feeling a headache coming on, he decided to leave the room as well. He would have to get very wasted tonight if he wanted his mind off Shindou, Touya, and Sai.
NSFW | Part of Akihika Reboot [6] | Set to year 2016 (13 years post-anime) | Please check out the amazing art on this by @xhellybeanx (Thank you dear!)
A week passes quickly for those who are always busy. Akira’s schedule was packed up with numerous league matches, and he hardly had time to rest, but still he insisted to be there when Hikaru was to be dispatched from the hospital on Saturday. Ichikawa was kind enough to offer them a ride home. On the way back, Akira was so exhausted that he fell asleep in the car, his head slumping onto Hikaru’s shoulder. Hikaru, on the other hand, was well-rested and energized, having gotten more rest at the hospital than he normally did.
He pushes himself so hard… Hikaru couldn’t help but feel for Akira. He knew Akira was doing it for him. He always tries so hard to stay ahead, so that Hikaru would continue to chase after him. But sometimes, Hikaru wished Akira would look back and understand that no matter what, Hikaru would always be chasing him, so there was no need to rush (he’s not saying this just ‘cause he’s still behind Akira). No matter if Akira was going fast or slow, Hikaru would always be looking at him. And if and when Hikaru does surpass Akira, then it would be his turn to wait for Akira to chase and surpass him again. It was a game for two, like a tug-of-war, back and forth, back and forth. It wasn’t like he would just leave Akira once he’s passed him (not that Akira would let him, he was sure of that) or chase after someone else. They always had each other’s back; that was the one thing they could count on.
“Here we are.” Ichikawa said as she pulled up to the front gate of the Touya residence. Together they woke Akira up so that they could help Hikaru inside with his stuff.
“You okay?” Hikaru asked once they’ve settled down. Akira still looked groggy and sleepy. “Why don’t you go get some sleep? We can order dinner.”
Akira nodded slowly before dragging himself towards their bedroom, where he pulled out his futon and laid it out onto the tatami. Hikaru let him sleep through the whole afternoon until it was time for dinner. They ordered soba, even though Hikaru wasn’t a fan of it, and ate in an odd silence. There was an unsettling atmosphere in the house, and it originated from Akira’s quietness. Was he still tired? He doesn’t look it. Hikaru couldn’t figure out what was wrong; he himself was feeling much better, having had rest and food after a mellow afternoon.
“Wanna play a game?” He asked. Akira nodded, but only after a moment of distracted hesitation.
The distraction lingered. Akira wasn’t playing at his best game. It felt like he had his mind on something else, and wasn’t trying his best at reading the Go board. What was he thinking? It was so unusual of Akira to not concentrate on a game with Hikaru.
“I’m gonna beat you if you keep playing like this.” Hikaru tried. Akira didn’t even respond; his eyes were glued to the Go board but they weren’t reading the game at all. Hikaru didn’t understand that Akira was doing it so that he didn’t have to look Hikaru in the eyes. If he did that now… Akira wasn’t sure he could keep his composure or sanity in check. Even as Hikaru set down a final move on a trap that Akira would normally have easily detected and blocked, all Akira could concentrate on was that ring on Hikaru’s left hand (his temporary playing hand). The board was now largely in Hikaru’s favor, and there was no point in continuing because Akira’s mind was on something else entirely different from Go.
“I resign.” Akira said. Hikaru expected it, just as Akira did too. Hikaru sensed frustration in Akira, though it is well-veiled and dressed to look like exhaustion or boredom. Could he…? “I’ll clean up.” Akira said as he piled the stones by color.
Hikaru reached out and stopped Akira’s hands. He moved smoothly towards Akira’s face and easily stole his lips. He only needed to initiate a few kisses before Akira kissed back with full force hungrily and passionately. It surprised Hikaru a little. When they parted for air, Hikaru saw the most intensely lustful eyes on Akira he has seen to date. That’s right… it was their first night to share as spouses (informality notwithstanding). How could he have forgotten? That explains Akira’s frustration: as the quieter of the two, he was always reluctant to express his desires, especially carnal ones.
That alone would be enough to drive Hikaru crazy. Those eyes that he had spent the good half of his life chasing are now looking at nothing but himself, and with such pure want. “Touya…” He whispered just before they continued their kiss, and he pushed Akira down onto the futon Akira had laid out earlier, Go stones all but forgotten on the board. Akira’s arms have him in the tightest hug as they shared kiss after kiss after kiss.
“Sorry, I don’t know how well I can do it with one arm…” Hikaru said as he straddled Akira. He’s pretty useless when he can’t even take off his own clothes.
“It’s ok…” Akira said softly and he guided Hikaru to switch positions, tugging him by the cast on his right arm, now doodled with the children’s signatures and graffiti. He mounted on top of Hikaru instead, reaching up to turn off the lights with two pulls of the switch. “I’ll do it.”
So Hikaru watched under the faint moonlight, from his “lowly” position, as Akira stripped them both of clothing. Akira’s long black hair made a veil around his face as he looked down, and Hikaru thought that he would be content to die then and there, if this was the last thing he saw.
Clearly Akira wouldn’t let that be the case. His head bobbed out of Hikaru’s sight, and before Hikaru’s eyes could follow they squeezed shut at the sudden stab of pleasure coming from between his legs. Akira’s mouth was warm and wet, and Hikaru couldn’t stop the string of moans escaping his throat. He let his left hand rest comfortably on Akira’s head, fingers interweaving with soft strands of hair as Akira’s head moved up and down steadily. When he could pull himself together, Hikaru stole a glance down at the incredibly erotic sight. Here and there Akira would sometimes shoot a glance back at him, his face flushed and his expression still shy but a little bolder than before. It was all Hikaru could do not to buck his hips.
“Touya… I’m almost…” Hikaru’s hand slid down to cup Akira’s cheek, moments before his orgasm hit, as the only warning. This time his hips did buck a little, and Akira held them down. The ring on Akira’s hand that once felt icy against Hikaru’s skin had now warmed up to the radiating heat of the body beneath it. Akira swallowed it all.
It seems that Akira’s shyness had all but faded away, and is instead replaced by the bravery and audacity he often shows when playing Go. He swiped the corner of his mouth as he knelt up, reaching over to the bottom drawer of his desk up ahead from which he pulled out a condom and a tube of lubricant. Without even having to say anything, they each took to the opposite task for each other (because of Hikaru’s disabled arm): Akira put the condom on Hikaru, while Hikaru worked the lube into Akira. Akira’s breath hitched at Hikaru’s two digits into him, so Hikaru watched closely for signs of real discomfort. Once he was satisfied that Akira was ready, he pulled his fingers out and let Akira decide when to go. Tonight was mostly going at Akira’s pace after all, since he had to take the lead from the injured Shindou.
If anything good came out of his crash, it was that tonight Hikaru got the best view of Akira from below, lying on his back. Both his healthy and injured arm rested comfortably on Akira’s thighs as Akira slowly sat onto him, with Hikaru watching every second, every change of expression, every lick of the lips, every parting breath. He rarely ever got such a clear view of Akira being candidly unafraid of his own nudity. Often times Akira is shy, tells him not to look, tries to distract him or forces him into a kiss so he can’t see. But tonight was different. Akira does nothing to hide himself. He is focused on what he had to do because Hikaru was unable to move as rigorously as he normally would. They start at a slow and steady pace, one that Akira was comfortable with. Once a rhythm was established, Hikaru allowed his functional hand to roam along Akira’s torso, past the lean abdomen, up to his chest. He caressed a perked nipple, earning a moan, and the pace fastened.
The air in the room grew thick as they continued moving, in sync with each other. When the pace was no longer fast enough, Hikaru pressed his hand against Akira’s lower back, coaxing him to bend down, so that he could go faster against a braced Akira. Akira complied, easily lowering his body to reach for a kiss, while Hikaru’s hand on Akira’s back held him firm and steady. Akira let out a loud cry when Hikaru went for it, practically drilling into Akira, that then turned into a series of unrestrained moans. Hikaru grunted, his breathing labored as he pressed harder, trying to get closer, deeper in.
“Shindou…” Akira’s face was etched with painful pleasure. His voice is all but cracked, his mind hardly coherent. He grabbed onto Hikaru’s shoulders, knowing that the climax is almost there, just over the edge. All it took was Hikaru hugging Akira a little closer, the fingers of his injured right hand caressing Akira’s own fingers on his shoulder, and Akira realizing how much he fit right into the nook of this man’s neck and shoulder, to push Akira over the limit. His body shook from the intensity of his first orgasm of the night.
Hikaru let off his speed when he realized Akira was orgasming. He moved gently, as if to help Akira draw out the climax as long as he could. When Akira could breathe properly again like a normal human being, he opened his eyes to a most loving look in Hikaru’s eyes.
“Was it good?” Hikaru asked kindly.
“Y-Yeah…” Akira mumbled, planting a small kiss by the corner of Hikaru’s lips. “But you…” He glanced down. “You haven’t…”
“It’s alright.” Hikaru said, giving Akira’s waist a light squeeze with his able hand.
“…” Akira eyed Hikaru, scrutinizing his face. “…I can keep going.”
“Huh?” Hikaru was a little surprised to hear that. He looked at Akira, his other half, and was met with those serious, genuine eyes. Akira meant it. “O-Okay…”
So Akira propped himself up, reaching again for another condom. He helped Hikaru switch it out, then turned around to lie down on his left side. Accordingly, Hikaru drew up from behind, spooning Akira comfortably. His left arm just barely fit in the gap between Akira’s waist and the futon so he could reach to the front and hug Akira back into his embrace. If he had a working right arm he would pull back some of Akira’s long hair to expose the nape of his neck to nibble on, but for now he must settle for Akira’s ear instead.
Akira’s right hand reached behind to guide him in. It was only moments ago that he’d been inside Akira, but Hikaru sighed when he felt that warmth surrounding him again as though it was a nostalgic feeling. The second time going in was easier, and he started moving fairly quickly. The combined attack of his nibbling and hot breaths had Akira’s ear turning a bright warm red. If Hikaru still had the composure to keep his eyes open, he would’ve seen the rekindling pleasure on Akira’s face, but he was too preoccupied with his own rising second orgasm to have noticed.
“Touya…!” The name was said in a muted scream. He rode it out in waves, his chest rising and falling heavily. They are both covered in a sheen of sweat now; it reminded Hikaru a little bit of their reunion match back when they were 14. Weird.
Hikaru’s left hand reached down in between Akira’s legs to find that Akira’s desires had been revived in the process. Akira jerked at the contact. “This is endless…” Hikaru chuckled, a tone of challenge in his voice. Akira’s eyes were glancing back at him, some of his hair getting soaked from the sweat and sticking to the side of his face.
“You’re one to talk.” Akira replied with an equally challenging tone, referring to Hikaru’s own erection that hadn’t quite settled down despite his coming a second time.
“Come here.” Hikaru sat up and pulled Akira up by his right arm, turning him around. He then guided Akira’s legs toward him, pulling them up to his left side. This way he could settle his head sideways nicely onto Akira’s thighs, and reach in between to suck him.
But Hikaru didn’t realize that two can play this game. Enduring the growing pleasure from Hikaru’s administrations, Akira pulled the used condom off Hikaru and began to do the same for him. So there they were, legs cradling each other’s heads as they both strove to pleasure each other. They could even look each other in the eyes by glancing down, and in that connection a familiar, unspoken tension electrified both of them. The game was on.
Akira was disadvantaged from the outset; Hikaru had only just had his second orgasm, and was in no hurry to reach another climax. Him, on the other hand, had his want aroused for a second time while being forced to wait as Hikaru rode out his second orgasm. Could he make up the difference? He did know all of Hikaru’s weak spots. And he had both his hands working.
While Akira started becoming analytical, Hikaru pressed a finger along his perineal raphe, eliciting a squeaky yelp. The sound was so unexpectedly cute that Hikaru chuckled, sending vibrations to Akira and further unsettling him. Akira’s first instinct was to glare at Hikaru, but then an idea came to him at just the right moment. He stopped using his mouth, opting instead to use his tongue. He intentionally looked Hikaru straight in the eyes, mischief glinting off his irises as his tongue danced all over.
That nearly pushed Hikaru over the edge. He stopped for a moment, teeth gritted and eyes shut tight. That was when Akira decided to put both his hands to work, drawing a loud cry from Hikaru. He’d lose if he kept letting Akira advance like this…
But you know what? Losing to Akira didn’t sound so bad. In fact, it’d never felt this good before. This dawned on Hikaru fairly late in the game, but still he gazed down to Akira, settling somewhere in his heart the conclusion that if it was Touya, he’d be willing to lose to him anytime. It was funny and didn’t seem to make sense, since he had been talking big about “beating Touya” for so long. Yet somehow, it made perfect sense.
The next time Akira glanced up at Hikaru, he stopped everything he was doing. There it was again - that loving look in his eyes. It’s as if Hikaru’s eyes were smiling. And then Akira couldn’t control the tears coming out of his own eyes. He was completely dismantled, while Hikaru resumed his task with some sort of new focus, humming lowly to send pleasurable pulses up Akira’s spine. And that was the way Touya Akira orgasmed the second time that night: beloved and in tears.
Afterwards, they laid panting, heads still in each other’s laps and forming a circle with their bodies. Their hands, carrying each of their rings, caressed each other finger by finger. They stayed like this for a while, just enjoying the company. Eventually Hikaru got up, wiped the tear marks from Akira’s face, and kissed him many more times. They settled into the futon, holding each other, falling fast asleep soundly.
@turboshitnerd well one example is that hikago is apparently full of what appears to be enough subtext (a lot of which is lost in translation since a lot of it is wording) to be able to say that Hotta Yumi probably intended a relationship between hikaru and akira, but she was writing for Shonen Jump, which complicates matters
“Also, when Hikaru was arguing with Kitajima at the Go salon, he says “just you watch, I’ll catch Touya in no time!” He very specifically used the word “catch” (捕まえる in Japanese) rather than “defeat” (倒す). He’s not concerned with defeating or beating Akira; he is concerned with “catching” him. And specifically, that verb used in Japanese can also mean to catch a lover, a spouse, essentially “succeed in courting/pursuing (as a suitor in love)“”
Actually, I think we may be being a little too harsh on Shonen Jump as well, upon reexamination. They may actually be more open-minded than we give them credit. For example, in their current series One Punch Man, which I’m also in the hell of, there is legitimate depiction of gay and transgender characters (and in a very clever, subtly-defying-stereotypes way too). Of course, things are much different now and are definitely better in Japan than in 2003 (if anyone wants to know more, please watch J-dramas "Mondai no Aru Restaurant”, “Gisou no Fufuu”, “Legal High 2”, and TV movie “April Fools”, all of which were released post-2011). I think the crew at Shonen Jump were also working under a social constraint at the time, mostly to the parents of their reader demographic.
Thirteen years it has been since Hikaru became a professional Go player. Countless things have changed in that time.
For example, this morning he woke up in the Touya house next to Akira, because he had moved in and had been living here since Akira’s parents went on extended leave in China and other parts of Asia. Akira invited him to start a private Go school in the house, where they teach some very talented children in the evenings. It was a step-up for their relationship, one they kept secret and unspoken, the same way it has always been in between them.
And Akira had went and grown his hair out. It is long and black and beautiful, but sometimes it unnerves Hikaru because it reminds him of Sai. He had told Akira everything now, and wondered if that was why he grew it out, but couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. He had a feeling that even if he did, Akira wouldn’t answer. Perhaps Hikaru would never find out, but he didn’t mind; Akira is still Akira, and Hikaru can’t deny how beautiful he looks in the long hair. His favorite moment in the morning is watching Akira tie it back. He could never stop staring.
They’ve both won titles. Akira has a few, Hikaru has one. That’s why when he asked Akira this morning about his schedule for the day, the answer was a study session and a lecture seminar in the morning, and playing against a 2-dan in the afternoon. Busy, busy. Akira didn’t have to ask Hikaru where he’d be though; it’s May 5th. He knows where Hikaru would be. Despite the pool of prize money saved from his win of the title (and defense of it every year since), Hikaru only spent it once, to buy his motorcycle (he learned from Tsubaki and got his license after turning 18; it was a few weeks of missing Go practice and having fights with Akira… there was a lot of shouting involved).
So he set out this morning, on his Ducati, to the Shuusaku gravestone in Sugamo. It’s not particularly like that was Sai’s resting place, but without even a grave, there was nowhere else Hikaru could go to pay tribute to his old friend. He rinsed the tombstone, laid down the flowers, and added a Go stone among the tributes. Then he spent the morning standing there, his sensu in hand, talking about all the recent developments in his Go career, in the Go world, about how Akira was doing, sorry he couldn’t come today. It was funny; he used to have so much to say, so much to talk about, he’d be there ‘til sundown. But today, he was done well before noon. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time remembering his friend, but he just felt like going home and sleeping the day off, or doing something else like watching Waya’s or Isumi’s matches.
He was heading in the direction of the Go Institute, speeding despite being alongside slow traffic, when he passed by that familiar head of silky, smooth black hair blown back by the wind. Touya! Hikaru’s heart jumped, though Akira didn’t notice him. Akira had a dreamy look on his face, like he was staring into the distance, spacing out. That’s dangerous when you’re standing by the roadside! Hikaru was too fast to stop, so he doubled back around the block, and finally came to a stop in front of Akira.
“Touya!” He flipped up his helmet’s visor. His unexpected voice finally snapped Akira out of his daze.
“Shindou!” Akira said, surprised. He was wearing a khaki business jacket over the usual suit and tie, his suitcase in hand. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s what I want to ask you.” Hikaru said. “Didn’t you say you have a seminar?”
“I did. It just ended.” Akira answered. “…You’re back early.”
“Oh… yeah.” Hikaru shrugged a little. He didn’t really want to talk about it. “…Did you have lunch yet?”
“Not yet.”
“…” Hikaru thought for a moment, then took off his helmet. He fixed his hair while stuffing the helmet into Akira’s arms. “Hop on. Let’s go eat.”
“Eh?” Akira was surprised. “But…”
“Come on, I’ll give you a ride to your afternoon match.” Hikaru jabbed his thumb at the backseat.
“Don’t be stupid, we only have one helmet!” Akira said. They do have two, but his was left at home.
“Don’t worry, I won’t crash.” Hikaru said. “Not with you on it.”
“Shindou!”
And then Hikaru laughed, which was rare for this particular day. “Come on! I’m starving!”
Exasperated, and knowing it was a stupid idea, but unable to counter as he most often found to be the case with Shindou Hikaru, Akira was disgusted with himself when he put on the helmet. He hopped onto the backseat, circled his arms around Hikaru’s waist, and then they took off.
Akira never really liked riding the motorcycle; it was scary and felt dangerous (probably was). Come to think of it, that was very much the same way he felt about Hikaru too. Unpredictable, unfamiliar, and dangerous. But he only had himself to blame for refusing to back down from Shindou, for letting his pride and courage get the better of him, for being continuously tempted to face and conquer every challenge that appeared before him. But when he truly gets scared, when the back wheel runs over a rough pothole and the whole bike jerks, he finds himself holding that same Shindou Hikaru closer, tighter. His eyes found themselves wandering down the sleeve of Hikaru’s leather jacket and fixed upon the gloved right hand. This hand is everything. It controls the throttle to keep them safe; it plays brilliant games of Go, and it drives him crazy at night.
“Touya, you’re hugging me too tight.” Hikaru yelled over the noisy wind, but Akira didn’t seem to have heard him. All Hikaru saw in his side mirror was a flushed face and eyes hidden behind squarely cropped bangs within the helmet. Immediately he slowed down; he knew Akira didn’t like being on the motorcycle. Is he sick? Hikaru worried. “Touya you okay?” He let his left hand off the handle to pat Akira’s hands, trying to get some response from the other man. He felt the head resting on his back shift, and then the next time he looked into the side mirror he saw Akira’s eyes looking back at his, full of trust and gentle emotions, as though they were smiling. It was so sudden and unexpected and cute that Hikaru’s heart skipped a beat and he nearly missed turning the corner.
Nevertheless they made it safely to Hikaru’s favorite ramen place. They got the usual choices, and as always Hikaru gave Akira his soft-boiled egg, because he knew Akira liked them and he needs to eat more for his afternoon match anyway. Then as promised Hikaru gave Akira a lift to the Go Institute for his match. So they parted ways there, with Hikaru remarking “don’t go too hard on the newbie,” to which Akira replied with an irritated “I won’t.”
Thirteen years is a long time, but some things never change. Hikaru can’t imagine life without Akira, and he had been thinking about proposing for some time, but never found the resolve to do it. Today, when he saw the way Akira was looking at him through that side mirror, he suddenly found his resolve. Those same eyes that had captivated him since the very beginning, the same eyes that often shone with powerful will, so sharp and strong, had held him in such a warm, loving gaze. The only other person he ever remembered being looked at with such eyes was… Sai.
He braved his embarrassment and drove to Ginza, where he stumbled around for a good 20 minutes just trying to find the jeweler (he never visits this part of town or stores like these). Then he spent another good hour looking at different designs, before finally finding this pair that was simply perfect for them. Rings are expensive, so he had to spend the prize money a second time, but it would probably be the last time. He never liked using any of it. There was a time when his mouth would’ve watered over the money, but it no longer felt right after all that he had to go through to become a pro and actually win the title. Sai never liked the idea anyway.
He was planning to go home after that, but never quite made it. It was damn stupid when it happened; he never should have been speeding. He didn’t see the truck coming out of the truck court to his left, at least not early enough. He braked sharply and swerved to the right, getting very close to the ground. At some point the bike slid away from under him and totaled itself against an electric pole some five meters away. He landed on his right arm and slid until he hit against a CMU wall. If he didn’t have his helmet on he was sure he would’ve cracked his head open.
So for the second time in his life, Shindou Hikaru takes an ambulance. This time he remembered it a little better: there were the paramedics cutting open his clothes, securing a splint around his arm, patching him up, checking for internal bleeding. It was a big fuss, and when asked who to contact Hikaru nearly said Akira’s name, before remembering that he must still be in the middle of his match, and instead gave Isumi’s contact (as though Isumi didn’t have his own dan promotion match).
When the Go Institute received the news, Akira was still playing, so they decided to tell him after the match was over. And it was the right decision, because he bolted out as soon as he heard where Hikaru’s hospital was.
“SHINDOU!!!” Akira’s voice was loud enough to shake the whole room. Everyone in the room was sure the doors would break with the way he slammed them open (Hikaru didn’t want a private room; he was already making friends with his roommates).
“Touya, you’re too loud!” Hikaru said, complaining. He turned to Waya and Isumi, who came visiting after they heard the news. “Sorry, can you guys…”
Waya was about to complain of Touya’s presence, but not before Isumi said, “Well, we’ll be going, actually. If you need anything else, you can call us.” Hikaru thanked them and promised to buy them sushi when he gets out. At the turn of their heels Hikaru was bombarded with questions from Akira. What happened? What did he do? Why didn’t he go straight home?
“Well… I had somewhere I needed to go…”
“How bad is your arm? Can you still play?”
“Not for a couple of months, but it’s ok; the doctor said I’ll make a full recovery.” Hikaru tries to put on his positive side despite his right arm being in a cast. He could sense the Akira volcano about to implode. “Aw, come on. Don’t worry. It’s not like I can’t play in my head. Someone else can place the stones for me. Or I can place them with my left hand if I need to.”
“‘It’s ok’?” Akira’s tone was dangerously low. “I wish you would take this situation a little more seriously, Shindou! Do you know how much progress is set back by two months?!”
“Stop yelling!” Hikaru said, raising his voice himself. “And what do you want me to do about it? It already happened! I can’t un-break my arm overnight. Geez, I’m sitting here in a hospital bed with my head hurting from a concussion and all you can care about is whether I can keep playing. I wish you’d be a little more worried for me.” Man, where is that cute Touya he saw earlier today?
“I AM worried for you!” Akira jolted up from the chair, sending it tipping over its back. It’s like they’re back in middle school, fighting and shouting at each other, only this time Akira has tears in his eyes.
“Touya…”
“I’m going home.” Akira said darkly, and picked up his jacket.
“Wait!” Hikaru said, trying to get up off the bed and wincing heavily from the sharp pain. His roommates (mostly old guys and ladies) were all telling him to stop, to sit back down, but he refused. He shot a look at a box on top of the counter next to his bed. Somehow the rings managed to escape from the accident unscathed, being mostly protected in his backpack and cushioned inside the boxes, and the medics salvaged them for him. “I can’t let him go home like that… Not in that state of mind!”
Luckily he didn’t have to go very far; Akira was just outside, standing by the vending machine with his right hand balled up and arm up against the side of the machine, facing the wall in front of him, head slumped and all. His long ponytail was caught here and there in the creases of his jacket.
“Oh no…” Hikaru knew this well, and limped forward just in time to grab Akira’s hand as Akira drew his right arm back again, about to smash it into the machine one more time. “Stop! What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s none of your business, Shindou!”
“It is if it has to do with your Go! What good is it gonna do if both of us break our arms?!” Hikaru scolds, his face getting serious, showing his more mature, masculine side. “Your hand is precious; treat it with care.”
“And yours…? It’s not?” Akira asked in return, his eyes piercing and inquisitive, as always.
“Touya…” Hikaru sighed. This man really knows how to give him a headache sometimes.
“Does it hurt?” Akira’s voice had turned soft.
“No, not really…” Hikaru answered, leaning back against the vending machine as his legs began to get tired. Not as much as my head does right now anyway…
“Would you let go?” Akira asked, referring to Hikaru’s left hand still grabbing onto his right.
“No.” Hikaru holds onto it possessively. “No, I’m not letting you go. I’m never letting you go.” His face was serious. Not after what happened, not after I thought I was going to die and leave you alone forever. Even without speaking them out loud the words were communicated to Akira through the intensity of Hikaru’s gaze. After a moment, Akira gritted his teeth, casting his eyes down on the floor, hidden behind the shadows of his hair. “Touya…?”
“I thought you were dead.” Akira’s voice was shaking slightly. “I thought… you… maybe you wanted to… I thought… because today is Sai’s…”
“Oh God…” Now the picture finally came together for Hikaru, why Akira was so edgy, why he was dazed earlier when he ran into him. He pulled Akira into his embrace, and felt warm tears wetting the front of his hospital gown. “I’m so sorry… Touya, I’d never…”
“And then I thought you could never play Go again…”
“Aw, come on, it’s just a broken arm!” Hikaru said, not sure whether he ought to be angry or laugh at Akira. “How did it become so exaggerated?”
It has been a long time since Akira last felt someone’s laugh from within their embrace, rumbling through their chest. “But… I’m glad.” He said, and Hikaru could feel his smile. “I’m glad you’re here…”
“Me too.” Hikaru rubbed Akira’s tense shoulders with his left hand and planted a kiss on his head. “So, have I totally unhinged you and messed up your game now?”
“Yeah right, Shindou, you wish.” Akira pinches Hikaru’s side, sending him yelping.
“Um… excuse us while you’re in the middle of something private…” The group of voices coming suddenly from the direction of Hikaru’s room sent them jumping. They pushed each other away, hoping the elderly didn’t see what they were doing earlier. “Oh, it’s ok, don’t worry. We’re very open-minded. It’s 2016, after all. But as we were saying, Hikaru-kun, we think you may have forgotten something…” One of the old geezers, the nosiest one out of them all, had brought the box he left on the counter out.
“You bloody…!” Hikaru was about to scream before remembering this was a hospital. It sent everyone into a fit of giggles, while Akira was flushed a face full of red. The elderly man grinned impishly as he walked over to where the two youngsters stood in order to hand the box back to Hikaru. Hikaru heaved a loud sigh, and said, “Man, I was hoping to do this at a more proper time in a more proper place.”
“Shindou…”
“About what you said earlier… There’s no way I would do that. I’m not gonna leave you alone, not by choice anyway.” Hikaru said while opening the box, revealing two rings inside. “I know what that feels like… I lost Sai.”
“I know…”
“So, if you were wondering what I was doing…” Hikaru continued as he took one out of the box, held Akira’s left hand up, and slipped it onto his ring finger. “I went to go get these.” The ring was made of satin platinum, molded such that the round ring gradually grows into a rectangular centerpiece, each with an accent stone embedded off-center. The one on Akira’s ring was a white diamond, the other a black one. Just like Go.
Hikaru held the box with the remaining ring out to Akira. “Will you…?”
And then Akira had that look in his eyes, that incisive gaze that seemed to always cut Hikaru open, threatening him to reveal his most inner secrets, and it sent Hikaru into a cold sweat. But he endured, and held the intense gaze, returning it with almost just as much intensity of his own. It was now or never.
Then Akira’s eyes dropped down as he nodded. He took the remaining ring, and slipped it onto Hikaru’s left ring finger. Their “witnesses” broke into cheers (“I’m gonna have a proper wedding once I get out of here, you know!” so Shindou said), which Akira quickly shushed to remind them that this was, after all, a hospital.
“I need to go home…” Akira checked his watch as he helped Hikaru limp his way back into the room after everyone else. It was late and all but dark outside. “You need some change of clothes, and we’ll have to cancel the class tomorrow; I can’t teach tomorrow night.”
“Nah, why don’t you have the kids come over here? I can teach them from right here.” Hikaru shrugged while getting back onto the bed.
“Are you sure?” Akira eyed him dubiously. “It’s not a bother to everyone?”
“Oh, no, you have kids coming over?” One of the old ladies exclaimed. “We’ll love it, if they don’t mind coming!”
“Yeah, as long as they’re not too loud and don’t get kicked out.” Hikaru said, as though he knew the rules of the place already (he’s only been here for a few hours). “I can teach them while I’m here! That way you can focus on your own matches.”
“Shindou, don’t forget you have your own matches too. You still have to play those; they‘ll have someone help you place the stones.”
“I know, I know. I’m only here for a week anyway.” Hikaru threw up his other hand in concession. “So, whaddya say?”
“…I guess so.” Akira finally agreed. “Should I bring some Go boards and stones?”
“Nah, the kids all have their own tablets and smartphones and laptops or what-have-you these days. You’ll just need to tell them to bring it and we can play on those tiny things on a screen…” Hikaru said, stalling.
“…You mean an app?” Akira helped.
“Yeah, that.” Hikaru smiled. Akira sighed; all these years and he’s still an idiot when it comes to computers. “Oh, but can you buy me a new magnetic travel Go board? Mine was totally destroyed.”
“You have a smartphone yourself, mister.” Akira said. “Why don’t you learn how to use it for once?”
“I don’t like it! My fingers are too big anyway so I keep playing into the wrong places because of it!” Hikaru whined. “Besides, nothing beats the feel of having real Go stones in between your fingers.”
“You sound like my father.” Akira chuckled as he picked up his suitcase, getting ready to go.
“Well, he’s right.” Hikaru said, then suddenly he yanked the curtain around his bed (he had the one on the far end, thank goodness) so his nosy roommates wouldn’t see him reaching up for Akira’s face and planting a soft kiss over his lips. “Goodnight, Akira. Be careful on your way home.”
If Hikaru wasn’t covered in injuries and bandage, Akira might have actually hit him for that, but he let the patient off tonight. He nodded with a gentle smile, excused himself from the kind (if nosy) roommates, and headed home.
Thirteen years is a long time, yet it also isn’t, in the grand scheme of things, over thousands of years. A lot can change, a lot must change, but a lot more will remain the same. Hikaru gazed up at the moon through the blinds of the window by his bed, knowing that without a doubt, Akira would be looking at the same moon tonight at home, ring in hand, unchanging through time and tide.
Recently I’ve started reading the Hikago manga for the first time, after rewatching the anime series 13 years after it’s been released. It’s been quite an interesting journey watching it with a new perspective on a personal level because of who I am now versus then. The first time I saw this series was when it came out in 2003; back then I was just about the same age as these two, I haven’t lost anyone yet, and had only just come to terms with discovering certain things about my own sexual orientation. Thirteen years later, things have changed, more than a few people are gone from my life, and - being a member of the queer community - I have learned a bit more about sexuality and its place in society through personal research and formal education.
Now, in regards to the reading, this series highlight one of the reasons why I chose to learn Japanese. Being able to read the work in its original language allows me to find clues (much like easter eggs) that would otherwise be lost in translation. The Japanese language is interesting in the regard that it mainly uses two systems of scripture in writing: Kana and Kanji. The way that these two systems are used interchangeably (and in the case of Hikago, deliberately so) and the various word choices used switching from the more simplistic Kana to a more meaningful Kanji character, give me hints as to the intention of the author as well as the social constraints she was working under for the Shonen Jump magazine, in the 90s-00s era. It makes me ponder the meaning of certain dialogue, especially as I question that meaning in the context of the relationship between the two main characters.
Ultimately what I have been trying to do, as I read on, is to attempt a reevaluation of the true nature of these two’s relationship, as well as the intentions of the author, under a new set of rules that I apply to myself as a reader coming from the queer community. What bugs me is that, among the search results for this tag, I see a lot of posts where people either say they’ll ship Akihika regardless of what canon is, or they write long essays trying to argue why this ship deserves to exist, or why it trumps the Hikaru x Akari ship, or otherwise try to justify the ship. The reason why this bugs me is that, all of these posts operate under the assumption that the readers need to fight and justify a queer interpretation of the relationship, and not the other way around. There is an inherent assumption, even among queer readers, that for some reason we are supposed to assume all characters are straight unless otherwise noted. This is heteronormativity at its finest here. It is so ingrained into our thinking that we don’t stop and think, “wait, was it ever explicitly stated in canon that these guys must be straight?”
And that is where the brilliance of Hotta-sensei as a writer shines to me. Just think about it for a moment: this is a Shonen Jump manga. If she wanted to insert your average heterosexual romantic subplot on the side, she could easily have done so. And yet she remains (almost adamantly so) deliberately silent about the sexual orientation of her characters, or at least of Hikaru and Akira. What is it about this story being published in Shonen Jump that we suddenly have to assume the protagonist must be straight? What is it about the story being written for a young teenage (male) target audience that we are supposed to take interactions between Hikaru and Akari as “canon” evidence of a straight, mutual romance, but then dismiss all those moments Hikaru and Akira are obsessed with each other as simply “platonic rivalry”? How about no? How about the burden of proof actually lies on people who claim that Hikaru x Akari is canon, who reject - with almost homophobic conviction - the notion that Hikaru and Akira’s romantic involvement is canon? To rhetorically answer the question “can’t you just accept what they have between them is platonic without having drag romance into this?” I say, “what is it about the notion that two boys can be in love with each other are you so afraid of entertaining, when if one of them had been a girl you’d jump on the idea and not even bat an eye? And what is with this assumption that there can’t be platonic friendship between a boy (Hikaru) and a girl (Akari)?” (Which, by the way, is quite common between a gay boy and a girl)
Now, of course, someone may say, “but there is no explicit text on a romantic plot line, you can’t say that it’s ‘canon’ because of that.” But here is where being able to read Japanese provides a key to a new, a more proper, understanding of this work. Forget the subtext, guys, there is plenty in the main text (in Japanese, anyway), that is direct evidence for Akihika. The evidence may be scattered in pieces across the writing, but it is there. Sure, Hikago isn’t a love story in the traditional sense (actually it is an EPIC love story, but people who refuse to see it will never understand that); it’s a coming-of-age story. It is a story about a boy discovering something that he will love to do for the rest of his life, despite the loss and obstacles he faces, and finding his lifelong partner to do it with along the way. Hm… Finding your lifelong partner… I believe that’s what people call marriage…?
So without further ado, I will now introduce my reboot of this series/ship, based on my interpretation of where the canon text was heading, under my own set of rules. My rules are simple: throw away my own bias, throw away heteronormative assumptions about the canon text, and read without assuming anything of their sexual orientation. As we all know, the canon story was terminated prematurely due to some legal troubles, leaving a gaping hole to be filled at the end (I suspect we only got through act 1 with the disappearance of Sai; I’m sure Hotta-sensei actually finished writing the whole story but never got to publish it). My “reboot” will take place in today’s society, in year 2016 (13 years post-canon), and I will deploy all the social connotations I have free rein thereof (which means, yes, gay marriage is possible). I suppose it is a headcanon of sorts, a way for myself to find closure for these two. I have written an essay to further explain my motivation behind compiling this reboot series after my deeper reading of the manga, and to respond to an awesome essay by Stirring Still; this will be linked below as well. The reboot will mostly include chapters or drabble I’ve written, though there is one doujin I accepted as part of this universe. At this point, they are both 28. Touya has three titles: Meijin, Ouza, and Jyudan, while Shindou has one: Honinbou. Their personalities have grown over time - Touya is a little softer and easier with his smiles in front of Shindou, while loss has taught Shindou to have patience for his loved ones. In essence, they’ve returned to behaving closer to the way they were when they first met. They still bicker though; that never changes.
Chapters (listed in order published, numbered in story arc timeline):
A note about the cover art: trying new things and painting with different colors. Inspired by style in original manga and art book, of course. Akira with normal volume hair and extra Lacus Clyne-style hair… just for kicks. A photo ref was used for the bikeand helmet.There is absolutely no reason why Akira’s art is B/W and Hikaru’s is colored, except that is just how it appears in my mind.
There are but a few works where homosexual feelings can be stated as canon (aside the BL genre). Instead, we often have to make do with subtext and ambiguous sentences, situations, or facial expressions.
The height of frustration, that is.
Not being able to ship two male characters without receiving the fatal “That’s just your yaoist imagination” argument is considerably irritating, and comes from the fact that you just have the subtext on your side, whereas the text will rather be on the side of your adversary.
(Note that your adversary may have already eaten his/her hat on Killua’s case in Hunter X Hunter, where the amount of subtext may have exceeded the amount of text.)
Let’s take the example of Hikaru no Go. The two main reasons that are opposed when shipping Akira and Hikaru to people who can’t even consider the idea are the following :
1. Hikaru is interested in Akari.
2. There are not romantic feelings between Akira and Hikaru; they merely see each other as Go rivals.
The first reason is not even worth lingering over. When does Hikaru ever think of Akari, except when he randomly bumps into her at school ?
The second reason is more interesting, and it may concern many other works than Hikaru no Go: that so-called lack of romantic feelings between true rivals.
(Who are so much rivals that they think of each other each hour of the day.)
But what are we exactly saying when waving that “romantic feelings” argument ? Are we speaking about some shojoish sentimental effusion ? Or about unexpressed, bubbling feelings ?
For those who may not know, romanticism is not exactly what the word means to most people nowadays – some insipid, mushy romance that movies, books, animes, and bad shôjo are filled with.
Romanticism, basically, is an artistic movement that aimed at revolting against classicism and rationalization by letting intense emotions run wild out of aristocratic norms. These emotions being multifarious and (fortunately) not limited to love. Romanticism, hence, may be expressed through violence, desperation, morbidity, passion, obsession.
(That is not to say that the romantic movement was free from insipid and mushy romances.)
If we were to take musical exemples : Thais’ Meditation, which everyone of you has at least heard once (and which may have, hence, led you to think that classical music is fundamentally insipid, mushy, and boring) could easily fit in the failures of romanticism, which explains quite well why it now invades the worst tear-jerker works of our time.
WhereasLiszt’s Sonata could, in return, give a perfect example of the masterpieces that romanticism is able to create.
Let’s go back to Akira and Hikaru, now. We all agree there is no confession whatsoever. Actually, their interaction is extremely limited all through the manga, whereas we all have the impression that it constitutes the majority of the book.
That is precisely because both Akira and Hikaru share the same obsessional passion towards each other. They are constantly worried about their own progress in Go, but not only.
Can you remember Akira, panicking as Hikaru, depressed from what happened to Sai, thought of stopping Go ?
Can you remember how easily both of them, and especially the well-mannered Akira, lose their temper when interacting with each other ?
Can you remember the intensity of their long awaited match, for which Akira counted the exact amount of time they had to wait ?
Can you remember how Akira guesses right about Sai, saying he is the one that “understands Hikaru the most”, and how Hikaru reacted as if these were words of confession ?
(That was, actually, more than a confession. That was the irrefutable proof that Akira has cracked the most intimate, and rationally unbelievable, secret of Hikaru.)
Advancing individually on a common path to an upcoming and awaited reunion, yet worrying about the other and thinking obsessively about him to the point of fully understanding him without almost any direct communication ?
Could there really be a more fundamentally romantic background between two characters ?
Might I add, though gay-ship-deniers may have missed it, that the entire character of Akari is an afterthought. She was probably thrown in there because someone in the editing department or somewhere higher up in the publisher wasn’t comfortable with putting out a series aimed at the Shonen Jump audience without the token girl love-interest (remember, this was back in the 2000s, when being gay was still a pretty big sin and executives thought people cared about fake Twilight-type “romance”). I will ignore for now the wholly sexist and misogynistic implication of that decision, but it is clear to me that she was malicious compliance on the part of the writer, who was only kind enough to give her some form of redemption towards the end of the story, and not write her into a total bitch. It’s more than evident that the entire story of Hikago could stand on its own without her altogether, however.
I like to think that the primary concern of the storyline, the relationship between Hikaru and Akira, is subtly reminiscent of the practice in ancient Greece of using soldiers engaged in homosexual/homoerotic comradeship for an elite force (the modern form of such comradeship among soldiers in the two World Wars is further explored by J. Glenn Gray in this book). The army is strong because of the romantic bond the soldiers share with each other. Though Hikaru and Akira’s relationship is presented as rival in nature throughout most of the story, the last abovesaid scene is the pivot point that pushes their relationship beyond that of purely hostile rivalry into entrusted comradeship.
One only has to consider: if only homosexuality isn’t such a taboo in the 21st century (and people like to think we’re more open-minded than our ancestors, LOL bitch please), this ship would’ve been sailing far sooner, Akari wouldn’t even exist and we won’t be here having this argument at all. I love Japan, but man do I sometimes really hate the homophobia and heteronormativity that pervades their society (which is not even homegrown but brought in by Westerners).
(Which is not to say that romantic heterosexual relationships are less valid, but only if the characters themselves are just as solid with an equally solid storyline to back up their relationship. At the very least there is no fucking way someone can hope to convince me that the writer meant for Hikaru to be with Akari as if that wasn’t already damn obvious with them going their separate ways in canon.)
This was originally meant to be fanart for Would You Marry Me? by TheGirlWithBrightEyes, but I took a few liberties and ended up making it Spring instead of winter
So they’re supposed to be at a shrine together making the engagement official and Akira gets emotional n stuff
I tried my best with Akira’s expression and I think I got it right(?) As long as he looks vulnerable… I just really like the idea of Akira learning to shed his cold exterior for Hikaru *sob*
Some au hikago fanfic ideas to commemorate the day.
1 Hikaru the twitch streamer. During some bad connection shenanigans, he gets caught playing NetGo on one monitor while playing some video game on the stream. His fans turn a bit feral, trying to figure out What the Heck, starting at many different conspiracies until it bleeds into the professional Go world where everyone couldn’t care less, not until someone actually sees a screenshot and - is that sai’sgame?Shenanigans happen and eventually Hikaru makes a V-tuber avatar for Sai. (Akira obsesses about them a totally normal amount.)
2 Hikaru couldn’t quite hide Sai and his parents ended up with the conclusion that he’s suffering from very vivid hallucinations. Ten years and a lot of not very successful therapy later, Hikaru gets a new shrink who suggests that try a new approach with Sai the Hallucination, and see what happens if Hikaru humours him. A very over it and kind of just winging it Hikaru enters Go world and Go world has to deal with this hot mess that’s somehow a stronger player than even their title holders.
3 Stargate crossover where the goban Hikaru found hid a stasis jar and of course Hikaru cracked it open. Sai was only ever a very minor Goa'uld, a bit of a wimp really, who didn’t like fighting and just wanted to play games, falling in love with one game in particular - and even in Yu’s empire almost no one played it. On Earth, though…
4 On a stormy night, up-to-no-good Hikaru sneaks into a shed, finds Sai’s goban and releases him from it to return to the path of go. There’s just one problem. Hikaru is Akari’s cat. He’s a smart cat that can obviously see ghosts as all cats can, thank you very much, but… still a cat. Sai will have much, much harder time wrangling him into playing Go.
5 Hikaru and Sai can switch places, with Hikaru becoming the ghost for brief periods of time. Which would almost be fine, with Sai occasionally in control of Hikaru’s body he could play Go to his heart’s content while Hikaru took a nice ghostly nap. That’s… not how it works, though - and a random Heian guy suddenly appearing in place of a modern teenage boy is a biit harder to hide and explain than a sudden shifts in personality.
It has been lonely, Yang Hai thinks, since Isumi left.
***
in the meantime Character(s): Yang Hai, Isumi Shinichirou Words:350 Rating:G+ Notes: 1) is this fandom alive 2) my ability to title is astounding, isn’t it 3) why do i have to ship obscure ships, why
***
It has been lonely, Yang Hai thinks, since Isumi left.
Thegoban sits, unused, in the corner of the room; Yang Hai never used it, preferring to practice on the computer outside of class time. What is the point, anyway, of playing a two-player game without an opponent?
It’s funny how much of a routine the games with Isumi had become, how enjoyable it had been to watch Isumi’s evolution from an easily-unnerved player to a level-headed, collected one. Yang Hai likes to think he had a lot more to do with the change than he actually did. Isumi had already been an excellent player when he came to Beijing; all Yang Hai had done, really, was kickstarted his personal development.
Eventually, Isumi would’ve stumbled upon the secret to refining his go himself. Yang Hai isn’t – wasn’t – a crucial part of the puzzle, just an available one.
Yang Hai flops onto his unmade bed, tries not to dwell on the empty one (perpendicular from his; set up so that, when they’d lay on their sides, Yang Hai could see Isumi’s face and Isumi could see his).
It isn’t, he reminds himself, setting his pillow over his face, as though they don’t keep in touch. The internet is a marvelous invention, and does a lot more than just provide an arena for more go matches. Before Isumi flew out to Tokyo Yang Hai added him to all his social networks, and extracted a promise to come online as often as possible, with reasonably satisfactory results (in fact, Isumi had beat Le Ping in an internet match just yesterday).
He scrunches his eyes shut, groans into his pillow.
Obviously, he’s got too much free time on his hands, to be thinking like this. He needs to find himself a new hobby, one that does not involve fantasizing about pretty Japanese exchange students with gentle smiles and ridiculously long eyelashes.
Maybe later – in the meantime:
Isumi hovers behind Yang Hai’s eyelids. He is smiling, even while looking awfully determined, like I’m going to win this one, Yang Hai-san.
