[Murray]
by qem_chibati
99 Problems But A Girlfriend Ain’t One Of Them.
Ochi has always been a plain boy and he knows that he always will be. A little too pudgy, his nose quite snub, on his round face, topped off with thick glasses, the sort that can’t be replaced with contact lenses. There is no miraculous make-over that can turn him into a hunk. Even using all of the make-up, in the entire world; it would only lead to a spectacularly ugly drag queen.
He doesn’t even have the kind of winning personality that could cover such things - and quite frankly he doesn’t want to bother knowing that the effort will come to nothing. Besides, most of the people he meets are idiots, so why would he bother being friendly?
However it was never made as abundantly and humiliatingly clear in all of his memories, his plainness… As when his father pulls him aside, to explain that he should focus on studies and getting a well-paying job, and not to worry about getting a girlfriend, or waste his time with such efforts. As you see, an Omiai will take care of all of that when he gets older, so he should focus on making sure he looks good on paper.
It was second nature, to shrug off Waya’s mocking sneers and Isumi’s fan girls (to whose existence Isumi himself seemed entirely oblivious). It was easy pass off Shindou’s hair as ridiculous (and let him ignore the fact that with his social expectations, he would never be allowed to get away with dying his own hair that way). It didn’t even sting that that the assumption, if he spent time with a girl, was always it was about class or studying; it always was; and it would just be awkward to have someone assume something different.
But perhaps the worst thing of that conversation was realizing that he didn’t want a girlfriend at all.
Waya mocks Ochi’s style, and sometimes if the opportunity arises makes comments about his grandparents shopping for him, looking expectantly at Ochi for a reaction as if it is the lead-in for a comedic duo.
But that’s because Waya is an undignified Neanderthal who thinks that camouflage cargo pants are the height of fashion, and fortunately even the most immature insei thinks that it’s lame, if they overhear Waya making that joke.
Waya doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Nobody can ever know. Ochi would kill himself rather than have someone guess.
Ochi always specifically and carefully chooses his outfits. He makes sure that they are as dignified as possible, classic in their style. The sort of clothes that can easily be mixed and matched so that he can always quickly come up with a perfect outfit - while not revealing the amount of thought that has gone into the acquisition of such clothes. He accessories them carefully, picking out the patterns. And makes sure that nothing will ever reveal a single hint as to his real thought process.
They’re not the clothes Ochi wants to wear deep inside. But they usually contain an element of the clothes he wishes he could wear, that darkly amuse him with reminders of the things he can’t have.
Ochi will never be pretty, and if given the opportunity, he would never wear the clothes that he thinks about, because they would never suit him.
But he wishes he was.
And it’s vitally important that no one ever gets a hint of such thoughts because while Ochi knows that it’s hopeless, that he’ll never have the long lanky legs to pull off a trendy argyle skirt set against black tights, the very indignity of anyone knowing exactly how hopeless this is would be completely unbearable.
He knows that some people work around those sorts of things by getting into fashion and expressing these thoughts on the models that they mould to their internal desires, an avatar for their internal sense of fashion.
But Ochi is pretty sure that it would be almost as unbearable, being surrounded by people he can never look like, wearing the clothes he can never touch, as it would be if people knew these thoughts. Sometimes it’s almost impossible not to punch Shindou’s face as it is, after all. But Shindou is always cheerfully oblivious as he crushes people’s dreams, rising miraculously fast through the ranks, coming out of nowhere. It irritates him greatly the way that Shindou can so easily take for granted that people will eventually acknowledge him. It annoys Ochi, te way that he, that Shindou can easily grab people’s attention simply by existing. Whereas Ochi struggles to those same people even acknowledge his existence even as he sits in front of them; even as he plays a game with them.
Shindou achieves his goals so easily and can obliviously let go of them just as well. He has no idea what it is like to be denied your desires. He doesn’t know what it’s like to realise that some things can never be achieved.
Ochi knows that, thinking like this, even if he never expresses it, makes him even a more bitter and twisted person to know, but he doesn’t care. He wants so much the little things that he can only ever see out of the corner of his eye, like the glossy nails that embarrassed Nase with how different they made it to pick up Go stones. The little things that some of the others can take for granted, while he never can.
His family is already horrified at some of the ways kids his age, customise their school uniforms. Ochi knows that he will always have to be prim and proper, dignified in a suit. He can’t even settle for a uniform that will deny the choice once he’s gets past high school, other than the uniform of businessman conformity, which hints at the ability to choose, but denies it all the more with the hidden boring rules that need to be followed.
Ochi doesn’t want a girlfriend. Not even to shove it into Waya’s stupid face that yes, he can achieve a love match. Not even to blend in, although Ochi suspects that having a girlfriend would make him stand out more, considering how low people’s expectations of him seem to be.
He’d rather be alone, thank you very much. Being alone means that you can be perfectly in control, that you don’t need to meander with pointless small talk as you share the everyday, or negotiate on pointless things like toilet seats being up or down. (Toilet seats should be down, along with the lid, and should be brought up as needed to make sure that there isn’t any smell.)
But sometimes, sometimes he wishes for someone that he can make biting remarks at, and who will snap back fiercely one day and good-naturedly ignore it the next. He wishes that he could reach out for a toned lean form, and have fun figuring out brilliant positions for making the most of friction.
Such thoughts are pipe dreams of course. It could never happen. Even in an alternative fujoshi-style doujinshi universe, Ochi and romance would only be a comedic afterthought at best. There is no cute misunderstandings in his future. No gestures of friendship that turn into something more. Ochi knows it’s entirely his own fault, but if you can’t aim for the best possibilities, why try at all for the difficult but semi-satisfactory ending? Why play at all, when there are other things you can put your efforts into?
Like smug satisfaction at defeating Waya in a ranking match. That’s pretty satisfactory after all, even when he still can’t surpass Isumi.
Ochi doesn’t like girls. Not because they’re giggly and silly. Not because they’ll never like him. And certainly not because he’s jealous of the freedom they have in so many little things. Nase’s fine, after all. He doesn’t like girls because he just doesn’t.
If there’s an emotion Ochi despises more than any other it would be pity. He won’t pity others, with their other strengths to fall back on, and won’t tolerate others pitying him. He has his own pride, his own dignity. He has thrown away his dreams of appearance and romance. But he won’t settle for second best with his ambitions.
The very thought of winning a place not on his own merits makes him feel ill. He’d rather have his claim at being seen as the best of his age today be taken away completely than viewed with faint but damning praise.
He won’t stand to have it be said that it was his fault Japan didn’t win the cup and feels bitterly relieved when the matches are close but Japan comes out with a loss. Instead he silently listens to the whispers about the disgrace of Japan sacrificing first chair to Shindou.
(Even if he secretly wants to argue that no, it wasn’t a disgrace for Shindou to have that position; it was the best game in the entire tournament and Touya never could have played a game like that, which makes him die a little inside - because it’s freaking Shindou. The only person Ochi wants to defend less is that idiot Waya.)
Ochi never does compete in the Hokuto cup. When Shindou and Touya hit eighteen and no longer qualify for the competition, there’s no point in competing. (Besides, if all of the potential team mates are people that he’s ranked as more annoying than Waya, then there is no way he wants to depend upon them in making sure that Japan defends the cup.)
He instead focuses on tournaments and study. He finds himself quietly pleased when he’s offered a teaching position in a men’s only club, the sort of place that is filled with cigar smoke, where the drink of choice is scotch. He fits right in, with conversation being largely non-existent. And when it does exist, it’s largely practice focused or they find his snide humour amusing when he’s directing his ire towards politicians.
It relaxes a tension in him, one which he knew he was holding but didn’t think he could ever let go; this, in addition to outgrowing his awkward adolescent years, is probably what makes his face less harsh and him more approachable.
Perhaps Waya was right when he called Ochi an old man in a kid’s body. But it’s relaxing being amongst people for whom appearance, is the least of their worries.
And he does feel, mature and ponderful sipping whiskey.
The job in the bar; turns into more, as Amaya-san likes him. A small investment into earning a “responsible server of alcohol” licence, (a two day course that included lessons on how to make cocktails), means enough of a supplementary income that he can move out from his family home. It’s a small freedom, at least. Additionally, since a lot of the work he takes on is at night, it means that it doesn’t interfere with Go tournaments during the day or his studying at university (Ochi will be damned if he doesn’t complete this, it’s only one more year), and it’s casual, so it’s easy to organise around any functions that he needs to attend.
Ochi’s willing to do the long and shitty shifts, where you get only the serious drinkers and low tippers, and he’s blunt and steadfast even in the most blustery of drunkard’s faces. He’s had to deal with Waya’s failed attempts to prank, via drunk dialling calls (how the moron got his number he has no idea); he can deal with anything.
Still when Amaya-san, the owner, asks if he would be willing to help with a different bar he owns - one that’s got a very particular clientele, but for which he’s in desperate need of assistance until his current bartender comes out of the hospital, it’s easy enough for him to agree, for a pay rise of course.
Business at the new bar isn’t particularly good, with most of the attendees being friends of friends and everyone knowing exactly what happened to Kawai-san. Fortunately, that means Ochi isn’t expected to do anything fancy and can stick to a normal uniform, although he compromises by slicking his hair back for just a touch of style.
It’s harder here, where some of the attendees get closer to what he wants, although they all tend toward deliberately ridiculous, as their way of laughing off the things that don’t quite work. It makes his fingers twitch, but no.
The fact that his poker face never changes, between morose business man and dumped drama-queen, is seen as a good thing here and he gets praised for his honesty. Outwardly, he thanks them for the praise, even though inside he’s cringing as he’s the least honest person here.
When Ochi wins the Agon-cup, Amaya-san congratulates him and says that he guesses Ochi won’t be working in either of the bars anymore; he responds by shrugging and saying it’s fine to call him if he needs someone to cover.
He’s graduated university, has nothing to do with his grandfather’s empire, other than earning dividends from shares, and it’s not like Ochi has a stunning social life to take over; it’s refreshing covering a night or two at either bar. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the tournaments, it’s fine.
And sometimes, some of the fashions feel close enough that he can imagine them beneath his fingertips.
He still won’t try on any of Mafuyu’s costumes though.
Kawai-san’s off on her honey-moon, so Ochi is covering this week, and this time, the bar is bright and cheerful with everyone imagining their own opportunities of love. Ochi still feels his chances are as good as ever, so consequently acts the same as ever.
He feels awkward when he hears laughter echoing in the background, because dammit. He knows exactly what a tipsy and planning-on-getting-drunk Waya sounds like, and that’s exactly what it sounds like has entered his bar.
Okay, whatever. It’s not like he gives a crap what Waya thinks, and Waya’s probably going to be too embarrassed to be caught in here to give him shit about it anyway. Still, he can feel his eyebrow thorough as he busies himself clearing out a shaker. He shakes the frown off of his face as he senses Waya approaching the bar from the back, before turning around and maintaining his poker face as he asks Waya what he would like to drink.
Waya blinks once. Looks to the side, where Rose-chan is her ever-delightful self with a full beard and gorgeous red dress that shows off her buff chest, then back to Ochi, who’s still sardonically looking at Waya.
“What is the house special?” he asks slowly. Ochi can see the gears in Waya’s head twirling, trying to work out if he’s a lot drunker than he originally thought he was. Is that Ochi with slicked-back hair? Or is it a stranger who happens to look remarkably similar? Ochi’s pretty sure that the mental conclusion Waya settles on is ‘argh, too confusing!’
“Tokyo-sidecar is one of the most popular cocktails we serve, although we do many popular Japanese and international cocktails here.” Ochi smoothly answers and watches as Waya agrees to the suggestion, accepts and pays for his drink, and toddles off still looking rather confused.
Ochi almost wants to laugh at the way Waya is hovering awkwardly near him, just before the matches start for the Gosei tournament. Poker face is maintained, though. Ochi hasn’t yet succumbed to internal desires; he won’t give in to Waya’s sure-to-be-awkward questioning.
He almost feels disappointed when Waya doesn’t approach, but focuses on Ogata-Honinbo’s discussion about the Asian New Star Match, and who the likely team members are to represent Japan in the next tournament. Apparently Shindou is really gunning for a position after being advised that Yeong-Ha will be on the Korean team.
He doesn’t go to either bar, for a while, not until a month later when Kawai-chan’s down with the flu. He’s not terribly surprised when he sees Waya come in. Maybe a little when he sees Waya flirt with Rose-chan. Whatever; perhaps Waya’s grown a little as well.
This time, before the matches, Waya comes up. Ochi would raise his eyebrow at him, but he knows Waya’s avoiding Isumi now and he can see Isumi in the distance with Shindou, so perhaps Ochi is for once the less awkward of the options.
Waya’s dancing around the topic, so Ochi maintains his perfect poker face and plays it straight, talking around the issue. It’s sort of hilarious watching Waya, who usually bulldozes his way through conversations, caught off-guard, and Ochi is enjoying savouring the moment.
There is no tactful way to bring up something like this, and at this point it’s more likely to embarrass Waya than Ochi, not to mention throw him off his game. Ochi pushes his glasses up in victory before they descend upon the game; even if he knows this is only one round out of many.
Still, he feels glorious as he walks out of his matches for the day in victory.
The next round, that Ochi knew was coming, occurs in the bar again. This time, though, Waya leads the attack by asking about Go and Ochi answers straight. Waya seems to have made himself more at home at the bar than Ochi - but it works to Ochi’s favour. Waya can’t get too awkward, else he won’t come back. And it’s still likely to be more embarrassing for Waya than Ochi. This is the mantra that Ochi adopts to reassure himself.
But it’s nice. It’s interesting talking about games with Waya without the usual hostilities - instead of insei jockeying for the top ranks, or feeling the pressures of teen judgement, it’s polite and interesting with various interruptions as various members are served and inject their own interesting observations.
This is a bar where Amaya is the owner, after all.
“You! You totally knew what I was trying to get at, and you didn’t say anything!” Waya accuses after the qualifying matches for the Tengen tournament.
Ochi can’t help it. He laughs freely. “And say what?” is his simple rebuttal, his smile angular and brittle. "It's not like we're friends, or should be buddy, buddy. What difference does it make? When we're at a tournament match, that's the important thing, why deal with such distractions. When we're in the bar, it's work and that's that."
"You are so depressing", Waya grumbles but there's a sharp look in his eye at that.
Ochi didn't really know what Waya's deal was, but he’s hanging around all the time. Oh sure, there was something going on with his relationship with Isumi, but what did that have to do with Ochi? Waya has always hated Ochi, always been trying to get the little digs in, annoyed at Ochi's superior logic and tactics and compensating with his popularity to try and make himself look bigger and better than Ochi at every opportunity.
The turnaround to deciding that Ochi was someone to hang out with.... Outside tournament matches, inside bars... It was a little off-putting. Ochi liked having his personal space, it was comfortable that way. No one could risk getting to know things that were a little too much. A little too personal, after all, it was the ones who were closest to you that could hurt you.
Still, banter turning into a game, rather than a sharp edge, it was pleasant. But it drew a lot of attention too. Shindou, to his credit never seemed to bat an eye at the proceedings and blared his way through conversations the same as usual - mostly ignoring everything except for the topic at hand and the person he was focused on for that point in time. Isumi, seemed to blink but take it as a matter of course. He didn't avoid Waya any more-so than he had already been doing...
Honda grumbled but still added Ochi to the email list, when things came up suggesting movie outings. Nase seemed quietly superior about the whole thing, with wording along the lines that she was glad that her fellow Insei were starting to grow up. Never mind that she barely spoke to him before either.
The annoying thing about developing friends though, was the way that they started telling you all sorts of annoying things. Waya's on his way to being slightly drunk, as usual and keeps opening his big fat mouth, letting whatever idiocy occurs to him spill out.
“You know, it’s kind of funny”, Waya says. “The two guys I ever had crushes on, turning out to be gay, but only when they fell in love with someone else.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that”, Ochi says as he finishes polishing the glasses. He really doesn't. He's kept his crushes quiet and undefined in his own mind, and makes a point to not know anything about their personal lives. There's a quiet part of his brain, that is dedicated to ignoring dedicated brilliance always focused on another, bright bangs that only highlight even more so that those eyes will only ever focus on one particular player, and glossy black hair that he will never be allowed to touch.
"Worst of all, when I offer my congratulations to one of them, someone who I've been a crappy friend too, but means a lot to me, he works it out and now starts avoiding me!"
"Oh you poor dear", Rosa-chan comforts. "Men can be such dicks sometimes. My ex, dumped me when he discovered the stockings in my bottom drawer - I think the fact that they were mine, was what made it worse.”
Waya and the others focus on agreeing with Rosa and talking about outrageous things they have at the bottom of their wardrobes.
Ochi face stays blank as possible during this exchange, but Waya, must have seen something.
The next time at the bar, this time Ochi amongst the attendees, a first for himself. Waya gleefully pulls out a set of cat ears. “Don’t you think master, should wear this?” as his audience twitters. Ochi scowls at Waya, and his never ending preening and waves it off.
Waya never one to take no for an answer, manhandles his way through and forces it Ochi’s face, as Rosa-chan, ever helpfully holds a mirror before the both of them. Waya’s, says slightly breathless in Ochi’s ear as he prevents Ochi from escaping, “It’s really cute.”
Ochi resigned, refuses to acknowledge their existence but he can’t help secretly agreeing.
Even so there is no way in hell, he is going to let them put him in a school uniform. Not even if it has a tartan mini-skirt.
99 Problems But A Girlfriend Ain’t One Of Them.
Ochi has always been a plain boy and he knows that he always will be. A little too pudgy, his nose quite snub, on his round face, topped off with thick glasses, the sort that can’t be replaced with contact lenses. There is no miraculous make-over that can turn him into a hunk. Even using all of the make-up, in the entire world; it would only lead to a spectacularly ugly drag queen.
He doesn’t even have the kind of winning personality that could cover such things - and quite frankly he doesn’t want to bother knowing that the effort will come to nothing. Besides, most of the people he meets are idiots, so why would he bother being friendly?
However it was never made as abundantly and humiliatingly clear in all of his memories, his plainness… As when his father pulls him aside, to explain that he should focus on studies and getting a well-paying job, and not to worry about getting a girlfriend, or waste his time with such efforts. As you see, an Omiai will take care of all of that when he gets older, so he should focus on making sure he looks good on paper.
It was second nature, to shrug off Waya’s mocking sneers and Isumi’s fan girls (to whose existence Isumi himself seemed entirely oblivious). It was easy pass off Shindou’s hair as ridiculous (and let him ignore the fact that with his social expectations, he would never be allowed to get away with dying his own hair that way). It didn’t even sting that that the assumption, if he spent time with a girl, was always it was about class or studying; it always was; and it would just be awkward to have someone assume something different.
But perhaps the worst thing of that conversation was realizing that he didn’t want a girlfriend at all.
Waya mocks Ochi’s style, and sometimes if the opportunity arises makes comments about his grandparents shopping for him, looking expectantly at Ochi for a reaction as if it is the lead-in for a comedic duo.
But that’s because Waya is an undignified Neanderthal who thinks that camouflage cargo pants are the height of fashion, and fortunately even the most immature insei thinks that it’s lame, if they overhear Waya making that joke.
Waya doesn’t know. Nobody knows. Nobody can ever know. Ochi would kill himself rather than have someone guess.
Ochi always specifically and carefully chooses his outfits. He makes sure that they are as dignified as possible, classic in their style. The sort of clothes that can easily be mixed and matched so that he can always quickly come up with a perfect outfit - while not revealing the amount of thought that has gone into the acquisition of such clothes. He accessories them carefully, picking out the patterns. And makes sure that nothing will ever reveal a single hint as to his real thought process.
They’re not the clothes Ochi wants to wear deep inside. But they usually contain an element of the clothes he wishes he could wear, that darkly amuse him with reminders of the things he can’t have.
Ochi will never be pretty, and if given the opportunity, he would never wear the clothes that he thinks about, because they would never suit him.
But he wishes he was.
And it’s vitally important that no one ever gets a hint of such thoughts because while Ochi knows that it’s hopeless, that he’ll never have the long lanky legs to pull off a trendy argyle skirt set against black tights, the very indignity of anyone knowing exactly how hopeless this is would be completely unbearable.
He knows that some people work around those sorts of things by getting into fashion and expressing these thoughts on the models that they mould to their internal desires, an avatar for their internal sense of fashion.
But Ochi is pretty sure that it would be almost as unbearable, being surrounded by people he can never look like, wearing the clothes he can never touch, as it would be if people knew these thoughts. Sometimes it’s almost impossible not to punch Shindou’s face as it is, after all. But Shindou is always cheerfully oblivious as he crushes people’s dreams, rising miraculously fast through the ranks, coming out of nowhere. It irritates him greatly the way that Shindou can so easily take for granted that people will eventually acknowledge him. It annoys Ochi, te way that he, that Shindou can easily grab people’s attention simply by existing. Whereas Ochi struggles to those same people even acknowledge his existence even as he sits in front of them; even as he plays a game with them.
Shindou achieves his goals so easily and can obliviously let go of them just as well. He has no idea what it is like to be denied your desires. He doesn’t know what it’s like to realise that some things can never be achieved.
Ochi knows that, thinking like this, even if he never expresses it, makes him even a more bitter and twisted person to know, but he doesn’t care. He wants so much the little things that he can only ever see out of the corner of his eye, like the glossy nails that embarrassed Nase with how different they made it to pick up Go stones. The little things that some of the others can take for granted, while he never can.
His family is already horrified at some of the ways kids his age, customise their school uniforms. Ochi knows that he will always have to be prim and proper, dignified in a suit. He can’t even settle for a uniform that will deny the choice once he’s gets past high school, other than the uniform of businessman conformity, which hints at the ability to choose, but denies it all the more with the hidden boring rules that need to be followed.
Ochi doesn’t want a girlfriend. Not even to shove it into Waya’s stupid face that yes, he can achieve a love match. Not even to blend in, although Ochi suspects that having a girlfriend would make him stand out more, considering how low people’s expectations of him seem to be.
He’d rather be alone, thank you very much. Being alone means that you can be perfectly in control, that you don’t need to meander with pointless small talk as you share the everyday, or negotiate on pointless things like toilet seats being up or down. (Toilet seats should be down, along with the lid, and should be brought up as needed to make sure that there isn’t any smell.)
But sometimes, sometimes he wishes for someone that he can make biting remarks at, and who will snap back fiercely one day and good-naturedly ignore it the next. He wishes that he could reach out for a toned lean form, and have fun figuring out brilliant positions for making the most of friction.
Such thoughts are pipe dreams of course. It could never happen. Even in an alternative fujoshi-style doujinshi universe, Ochi and romance would only be a comedic afterthought at best. There is no cute misunderstandings in his future. No gestures of friendship that turn into something more. Ochi knows it’s entirely his own fault, but if you can’t aim for the best possibilities, why try at all for the difficult but semi-satisfactory ending? Why play at all, when there are other things you can put your efforts into?
Like smug satisfaction at defeating Waya in a ranking match. That’s pretty satisfactory after all, even when he still can’t surpass Isumi.
Ochi doesn’t like girls. Not because they’re giggly and silly. Not because they’ll never like him. And certainly not because he’s jealous of the freedom they have in so many little things. Nase’s fine, after all. He doesn’t like girls because he just doesn’t.
If there’s an emotion Ochi despises more than any other it would be pity. He won’t pity others, with their other strengths to fall back on, and won’t tolerate others pitying him. He has his own pride, his own dignity. He has thrown away his dreams of appearance and romance. But he won’t settle for second best with his ambitions.
The very thought of winning a place not on his own merits makes him feel ill. He’d rather have his claim at being seen as the best of his age today be taken away completely than viewed with faint but damning praise.
He won’t stand to have it be said that it was his fault Japan didn’t win the cup and feels bitterly relieved when the matches are close but Japan comes out with a loss. Instead he silently listens to the whispers about the disgrace of Japan sacrificing first chair to Shindou.
(Even if he secretly wants to argue that no, it wasn’t a disgrace for Shindou to have that position; it was the best game in the entire tournament and Touya never could have played a game like that, which makes him die a little inside - because it’s freaking Shindou. The only person Ochi wants to defend less is that idiot Waya.)
Ochi never does compete in the Hokuto cup. When Shindou and Touya hit eighteen and no longer qualify for the competition, there’s no point in competing. (Besides, if all of the potential team mates are people that he’s ranked as more annoying than Waya, then there is no way he wants to depend upon them in making sure that Japan defends the cup.)
He instead focuses on tournaments and study. He finds himself quietly pleased when he’s offered a teaching position in a men’s only club, the sort of place that is filled with cigar smoke, where the drink of choice is scotch. He fits right in, with conversation being largely non-existent. And when it does exist, it’s largely practice focused or they find his snide humour amusing when he’s directing his ire towards politicians.
It relaxes a tension in him, one which he knew he was holding but didn’t think he could ever let go; this, in addition to outgrowing his awkward adolescent years, is probably what makes his face less harsh and him more approachable.
Perhaps Waya was right when he called Ochi an old man in a kid’s body. But it’s relaxing being amongst people for whom appearance, is the least of their worries.
And he does feel, mature and ponderful sipping whiskey.
The job in the bar; turns into more, as Amaya-san likes him. A small investment into earning a “responsible server of alcohol” licence, (a two day course that included lessons on how to make cocktails), means enough of a supplementary income that he can move out from his family home. It’s a small freedom, at least. Additionally, since a lot of the work he takes on is at night, it means that it doesn’t interfere with Go tournaments during the day or his studying at university (Ochi will be damned if he doesn’t complete this, it’s only one more year), and it’s casual, so it’s easy to organise around any functions that he needs to attend.
Ochi’s willing to do the long and shitty shifts, where you get only the serious drinkers and low tippers, and he’s blunt and steadfast even in the most blustery of drunkard’s faces. He’s had to deal with Waya’s failed attempts to prank, via drunk dialling calls (how the moron got his number he has no idea); he can deal with anything.
Still when Amaya-san, the owner, asks if he would be willing to help with a different bar he owns - one that’s got a very particular clientele, but for which he’s in desperate need of assistance until his current bartender comes out of the hospital, it’s easy enough for him to agree, for a pay rise of course.
Business at the new bar isn’t particularly good, with most of the attendees being friends of friends and everyone knowing exactly what happened to Kawai-san. Fortunately, that means Ochi isn’t expected to do anything fancy and can stick to a normal uniform, although he compromises by slicking his hair back for just a touch of style.
It’s harder here, where some of the attendees get closer to what he wants, although they all tend toward deliberately ridiculous, as their way of laughing off the things that don’t quite work. It makes his fingers twitch, but no.
The fact that his poker face never changes, between morose business man and dumped drama-queen, is seen as a good thing here and he gets praised for his honesty. Outwardly, he thanks them for the praise, even though inside he’s cringing as he’s the least honest person here.
When Ochi wins the Agon-cup, Amaya-san congratulates him and says that he guesses Ochi won’t be working in either of the bars anymore; he responds by shrugging and saying it’s fine to call him if he needs someone to cover.
He’s graduated university, has nothing to do with his grandfather’s empire, other than earning dividends from shares, and it’s not like Ochi has a stunning social life to take over; it’s refreshing covering a night or two at either bar. As long as it doesn’t interfere with the tournaments, it’s fine.
And sometimes, some of the fashions feel close enough that he can imagine them beneath his fingertips.
He still won’t try on any of Mafuyu’s costumes though.
Kawai-san’s off on her honey-moon, so Ochi is covering this week, and this time, the bar is bright and cheerful with everyone imagining their own opportunities of love. Ochi still feels his chances are as good as ever, so consequently acts the same as ever.
He feels awkward when he hears laughter echoing in the background, because dammit. He knows exactly what a tipsy and planning-on-getting-drunk Waya sounds like, and that’s exactly what it sounds like has entered his bar.
Okay, whatever. It’s not like he gives a crap what Waya thinks, and Waya’s probably going to be too embarrassed to be caught in here to give him shit about it anyway. Still, he can feel his eyebrow thorough as he busies himself clearing out a shaker. He shakes the frown off of his face as he senses Waya approaching the bar from the back, before turning around and maintaining his poker face as he asks Waya what he would like to drink.
Waya blinks once. Looks to the side, where Rose-chan is her ever-delightful self with a full beard and gorgeous red dress that shows off her buff chest, then back to Ochi, who’s still sardonically looking at Waya.
“What is the house special?” he asks slowly. Ochi can see the gears in Waya’s head twirling, trying to work out if he’s a lot drunker than he originally thought he was. Is that Ochi with slicked-back hair? Or is it a stranger who happens to look remarkably similar? Ochi’s pretty sure that the mental conclusion Waya settles on is ‘argh, too confusing!’
“Tokyo-sidecar is one of the most popular cocktails we serve, although we do many popular Japanese and international cocktails here.” Ochi smoothly answers and watches as Waya agrees to the suggestion, accepts and pays for his drink, and toddles off still looking rather confused.
Ochi almost wants to laugh at the way Waya is hovering awkwardly near him, just before the matches start for the Gosei tournament. Poker face is maintained, though. Ochi hasn’t yet succumbed to internal desires; he won’t give in to Waya’s sure-to-be-awkward questioning.
He almost feels disappointed when Waya doesn’t approach, but focuses on Ogata-Honinbo’s discussion about the Asian New Star Match, and who the likely team members are to represent Japan in the next tournament. Apparently Shindou is really gunning for a position after being advised that Yeong-Ha will be on the Korean team.
He doesn’t go to either bar, for a while, not until a month later when Kawai-chan’s down with the flu. He’s not terribly surprised when he sees Waya come in. Maybe a little when he sees Waya flirt with Rose-chan. Whatever; perhaps Waya’s grown a little as well.
This time, before the matches, Waya comes up. Ochi would raise his eyebrow at him, but he knows Waya’s avoiding Isumi now and he can see Isumi in the distance with Shindou, so perhaps Ochi is for once the less awkward of the options.
Waya’s dancing around the topic, so Ochi maintains his perfect poker face and plays it straight, talking around the issue. It’s sort of hilarious watching Waya, who usually bulldozes his way through conversations, caught off-guard, and Ochi is enjoying savouring the moment.
There is no tactful way to bring up something like this, and at this point it’s more likely to embarrass Waya than Ochi, not to mention throw him off his game. Ochi pushes his glasses up in victory before they descend upon the game; even if he knows this is only one round out of many.
Still, he feels glorious as he walks out of his matches for the day in victory.
The next round, that Ochi knew was coming, occurs in the bar again. This time, though, Waya leads the attack by asking about Go and Ochi answers straight. Waya seems to have made himself more at home at the bar than Ochi - but it works to Ochi’s favour. Waya can’t get too awkward, else he won’t come back. And it’s still likely to be more embarrassing for Waya than Ochi. This is the mantra that Ochi adopts to reassure himself.
But it’s nice. It’s interesting talking about games with Waya without the usual hostilities - instead of insei jockeying for the top ranks, or feeling the pressures of teen judgement, it’s polite and interesting with various interruptions as various members are served and inject their own interesting observations.
This is a bar where Amaya is the owner, after all.
“You! You totally knew what I was trying to get at, and you didn’t say anything!” Waya accuses after the qualifying matches for the Tengen tournament.
Ochi can’t help it. He laughs freely. “And say what?” is his simple rebuttal, his smile angular and brittle. "It's not like we're friends, or should be buddy, buddy. What difference does it make? When we're at a tournament match, that's the important thing, why deal with such distractions. When we're in the bar, it's work and that's that."
"You are so depressing", Waya grumbles but there's a sharp look in his eye at that.
Ochi didn't really know what Waya's deal was, but he’s hanging around all the time. Oh sure, there was something going on with his relationship with Isumi, but what did that have to do with Ochi? Waya has always hated Ochi, always been trying to get the little digs in, annoyed at Ochi's superior logic and tactics and compensating with his popularity to try and make himself look bigger and better than Ochi at every opportunity.
The turnaround to deciding that Ochi was someone to hang out with.... Outside tournament matches, inside bars... It was a little off-putting. Ochi liked having his personal space, it was comfortable that way. No one could risk getting to know things that were a little too much. A little too personal, after all, it was the ones who were closest to you that could hurt you.
Still, banter turning into a game, rather than a sharp edge, it was pleasant. But it drew a lot of attention too. Shindou, to his credit never seemed to bat an eye at the proceedings and blared his way through conversations the same as usual - mostly ignoring everything except for the topic at hand and the person he was focused on for that point in time. Isumi, seemed to blink but take it as a matter of course. He didn't avoid Waya any more-so than he had already been doing...
Honda grumbled but still added Ochi to the email list, when things came up suggesting movie outings. Nase seemed quietly superior about the whole thing, with wording along the lines that she was glad that her fellow Insei were starting to grow up. Never mind that she barely spoke to him before either.
The annoying thing about developing friends though, was the way that they started telling you all sorts of annoying things. Waya's on his way to being slightly drunk, as usual and keeps opening his big fat mouth, letting whatever idiocy occurs to him spill out.
“You know, it’s kind of funny”, Waya says. “The two guys I ever had crushes on, turning out to be gay, but only when they fell in love with someone else.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that”, Ochi says as he finishes polishing the glasses. He really doesn't. He's kept his crushes quiet and undefined in his own mind, and makes a point to not know anything about their personal lives. There's a quiet part of his brain, that is dedicated to ignoring dedicated brilliance always focused on another, bright bangs that only highlight even more so that those eyes will only ever focus on one particular player, and glossy black hair that he will never be allowed to touch.
"Worst of all, when I offer my congratulations to one of them, someone who I've been a crappy friend too, but means a lot to me, he works it out and now starts avoiding me!"
"Oh you poor dear", Rosa-chan comforts. "Men can be such dicks sometimes. My ex, dumped me when he discovered the stockings in my bottom drawer - I think the fact that they were mine, was what made it worse.”
Waya and the others focus on agreeing with Rosa and talking about outrageous things they have at the bottom of their wardrobes.
Ochi face stays blank as possible during this exchange, but Waya, must have seen something.
The next time at the bar, this time Ochi amongst the attendees, a first for himself. Waya gleefully pulls out a set of cat ears. “Don’t you think master, should wear this?” as his audience twitters. Ochi scowls at Waya, and his never ending preening and waves it off.
Waya never one to take no for an answer, manhandles his way through and forces it Ochi’s face, as Rosa-chan, ever helpfully holds a mirror before the both of them. Waya’s, says slightly breathless in Ochi’s ear as he prevents Ochi from escaping, “It’s really cute.”
Ochi resigned, refuses to acknowledge their existence but he can’t help secretly agreeing.
Even so there is no way in hell, he is going to let them put him in a school uniform. Not even if it has a tartan mini-skirt.