[Fujiwara]
by ukefied
Mayday
“I want to have a cocktail party,” Akari announces.
Across the table, Mitani Yuki pauses, spoon of lentil soup halfway to his lips. “Okay?” he answers.
“I’m serious,” Akari emphasizes, lowering her own spoon. “We’ve been living together for a year, and we haven’t had anyone over for so much as coffee! What kind of fiends are we?”
“Frugal?” Yuki teases, and slurps his soup.
“Come on, Yuki,” she implores, giving him the most persuasive look in her repertoire. “It isn’t a busy time for us at school right now, and we don’t work weekends. Can’t we invite everyone over for one Friday night? Maybe for Kodomo no Hi? It’ll be fun!”
Yuki considers it for a few moments. “All right,” he agrees. “It’s true, we haven’t really seen anyone in a while. E-mail and quick phone calls really don’t cut it.”
Akari jostles the little table in her haste to come around and wrap her arms around Yuki’s neck. “Thank you!”
“Ergh, don’t mention it.” He’s acting put-upon, but he touches her hip -- a fond gesture. “Who do you want to invite?”
“Everyone!” At Yuki’s incredulous stare, she amends, “Well, okay, not everyone. Isumi and Waya, for sure. Nase, Kaga, and Tsutsui,” she continues, slowly working up to the last. “Oh,” she adds brightly, “we should also invite Hikaru and Touya-kun!”
Her boyfriend hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, sure,” he agrees, to her relief. Yuki has mostly buried the hatchet in regards to Hikaru’s abandonment back in middle school. “But you can’t invite Ochi, because I can’t stand him.”
“Yay!” Akari squeals, unable to contain her giddiness. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a real cocktail party in our apartment.” She’s already thinking about what to make, what drinks to buy, and what kind of music to play. She squeezes Yuki’s arm, and he gives her a faint smile. He’s tired from his long day at the coffee shop, but enthusiastic for the idea, as well. “Oh,” she adds as an afterthought, “I’ll tell everyone that they’re welcome to bring dates, if they want.”
“Nase is seeing some guy now,” Yuki informs her. “I think his name is Takeshi? I could be wrong. Don’t know how serious they are.”
“That’s fine. It’ll be a great opportunity to catch up on tidbits just like that!” She chuckles. “I’ll tell Hikaru and Touya-kun to bring dates, too. They’ll love that.”
This makes Yuki glance up at her, visibly puzzled. “You’re kidding?”
Akari tilts her head. “Kidding? You think I shouldn’t?”
Yuki blinks, sits up straighter. “Uh, are you serious? Asking Shindou and Touya to bring dates?”
Now she’s miffed. “Why are you making fun of me?” she huffs.
“Uh.” Yuki pauses, evidently unsure of how to proceed. “Um, Akari, Shindou and Touya -- are each other’s dates.”
Akari feels as though she has missed something very important. “... What?”
Yuki’s eyes, if possible, get even wider. “Wow, you really didn’t know.”
Akari makes a helpless gesture with her hands. “Well, of course I didn’t know! When were you going to tell me?!”
Yuki shrugs, looking almost apologetic as he stares up at her. “I thought you already knew.”
“How could I have known?” she demands, stamping one heeled foot for emphasis.
Yuki scratches the back of his head. “Uh, well, they live together?”
“So do Isumi and Waya!”
“They’re always hanging out together?”
“So do Isumi and Waya!”
Yuki gives up. “Then geez, Akari, I don’t know.”
“Argh!” Akari huffs, spinning on her heel and folding her arms, pointing her nose at the ceiling. “Well, that’s just fantastic. I’ve probably made an idiot out of myself the last few times I talked to either of them.”
“Probably not,” Yuki offers, and she hears him stand. “It’s not like their relationship is a secret, exactly, though they do keep it quiet for their own privacy. They’d have told you if you’d really seemed ignorant. Probably.”
Akari takes a deep breath, and thinks about Hikaru. Brash, loud, obnoxious, determined, and sometimes, even sweet. She thinks about baking cookies for him in the winter, going swimming with him in the summer, and doing homework together in the fall. “Hee,” she ventures. “Little Hikaru has finally grown up, huh?”
“Huh?” Yuki echoes. “You think he’s grown up? I heard a few weeks ago, he refused to go to some kind of meeting because it wasn’t catered.”
“Hikaru and Akira,” Akari continues, ignoring him. “It’s, it was kind of inevitable, you know? They were always stalking one another.”
“Yeah,” Yuki agrees. “They’re both weird; it’s a match made in heaven.”
***
“I’m ready!” Shindou Hikaru announces, stepping into the living room in black jeans and a white T-shirt.
Touya Akira is waiting at the door, wearing black slacks and a purple-and-cream argyle sweater. He glances at Hikaru up and down. “You aren’t wearing that, are you?”
Instantly defensive, Hikaru draws himself up. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You look like a grade-schooler,” Akira replies in a flat tone.
“You look like a nerdy grade-schooler!” Hikaru shoots back.
Akira makes a helpless gesture with his hands. “Shindou! I don’t want to start the evening arguing. Just go change into something more acceptable.”
“Only if you change into something less lame.”
Akira makes a face. “Shindou, it’s a cocktail party. You don’t wear jeans to a cocktail party!”
“It’s Akari’s cocktail party!”
“And you haven’t seen her in ages,” Akira reminds him. “And you’re a pro; start dressing like one!”
Hikaru gives his boyfriend a withering look. “If I wear slacks and a -- ugh -- dress shirt, will you take off that horrible sweater?”
This brings Akira up short. “Horrible?” He looks down at himself. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“It is,” Hikaru insists. In the face of Akira’s visible deflation, Hikaru sighs and comes forward to fetch his wayward fashion failure. “Okay, we’ll both change. Come on.” He takes Akira’s hand, and then they head to the bedroom to find something more appropriate.
***
With the lights dimmed and Faye Wong playing softly throughout the apartment, Akari is pleased with how well her place looks for the party. She and Yuki don’t live in a large apartment, but cleaned up and rearranged, there is more than enough room for everyone to be comfortable. She has taken everyone into consideration, probably putting a little too much thought into ensuring everyone would have adequate space. Their low table has moved against the far wall, and Akari has placed some candles upon it, adding to the elegance. Their kitchen table, draped in dark purple, now sits in a corner of the living room to provide hors d’oeuvres to their guests. They will actually be one short, she reflects with some disappointment: Tsutsui respectfully declined their invitation, pleading a prior engagement.
“You look great,” Yuki observes, coming in from the kitchen. He’s wearing black slacks and a mauve dress shirt, matching her black cocktail dress, mauve scarf and heels.
“Not so bad, yourself,” she compliments, walking over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Is the bar ready?”
“And willing,” he replies with a wink.
The doorbell makes a loud, cringe-worthy noise, and Akari winces, chuckling. “The only downside to this party is that we have to buzz our guests in.”
“Can’t have it all,” Yuki laments as she makes her way to the intercom.
Moments later, Nase and Takeshi are inside, coats taken and hands shaken.
“I confess,” Nase begins, “we came early to save you from the awkward first arrivals chatter. You want us to help fold napkins, or something?”
“You are a dear,” Akari laughs.
***
Faye Wong has given way to some low piano jazz by the time Kaga arrives. He’s wearing a white suit, to Akari’s surprise, albeit the fabric is loose on him, giving him the rebellious, disheveled look they’ve come to expect.
“Yo, can I smoke in here?”
“Out the window,” she answers sweetly.
“Thank you, milady,” Kaga replies with a devilish smile, and walks by her toward the kitchen. “Yo, Mitani! Your girlfriend gets hotter every time I see her.”
“Grow up, Kaga,” Nase jeers from the couch, where she and Takeshi are on their second glasses of white wine.
“I was just saying.”
“You want a white russian?” Yuki calls from the makeshift bar.
“How well you remember,” Kaga comments, and returns to the couch to plop down next to Takeshi. “Hey, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Takeshi replies, out of his element but mingling well despite.
Another buzz, and soon Isumi and Waya are sipping wine and catching up with Kaga and Nase. A room full of the brash and the soft-spoken, the bookish and the athletic; only igo unites them. If not for each and every one’s engagement in the game, none of them would have ever met.
“Did you see Ochi’s latest game?” Isumi is saying. “He’s come a long way.”
Akari floats about the room, engaging in small talk and making sure her guests -- her friends -- are comfortable. Once everyone is watered-down, Yuki emerges from the kitchen with some wine for Akari and himself.
It’s nearly an hour later, when half the salmon puffs are gone and Kaga, Nase, and Waya are having a cigarette by the window, that the final guests arrive.
It’s about time, Akari thinks. Hikaru isn’t any more punctual than he used to be. She is surprised when she has to steel herself before pushing the button of the intercom. “Yes?”
“Hey, Akari!” Hikaru’s garbled voice cries. “Sorry we’re late!”
“No, you’re not,” Akari manages smoothly, and buzzes them in.
How could I not see it? She’s more upset with herself than anything -- and upset with him. How many years have we known each other, she wants to demand of him. You told me when you started masturbating! she thinks, getting angry -- and then kind of grossed out, because she hadn’t wanted to know that back then, never mind having flashbacks about it at her bloody cocktail party.
The door opens into her face; she leaps back, teetering on her stilettos and sputtering some kind of reprimand. Hikaru has always let himself into her house, she recalls.
“Sorry,” her childhood friend laments. “Didn’t think you’d be right there.”
She regains her balance -- and her dignity -- and starts to accept, but Hikaru’s outfit brings her up short. “H-Hikaru?”
“Yeah?” He still has a hand on the back of his head: a classic mannerism, makes her think of rummaging around in his toy-chest, demanding to know why he didn’t have any dolls.
“Um.” But gone is the child, and what stands before her is a man who actually knows how to dress formally. Hikaru is wearing a chocolate-brown suit over a striking orange dress shirt with -- are those Italian? -- dress shoes. “Um,” she says again.
“Nice threads, Shindou,” Waya pipes up.
“Ditto, you look great,” from Nase.
“He insisted on orange,” Touya Akira says, almost apologetically. He appears from behind Hikaru, looking just as good in a black-and-green combination.
Hikaru jerks a thumb at Touya. “And he insisted on argyle, and I said no.”
Akari gives the normally-shy young pro a sunny smile. “You look very handsome, Touya-kun.”
He gives her a grateful look, and bows his head. “Thank you, Fujisaki.”
She holds the smile a few moments longer, wanting him to be at ease. She doesn’t know him as well as -- Hikaru -- but she knows what it means for him to have come here, to mingle with those who (for many years, even now) barely liked him. “Well, don’t just stand there! Come in, come in!”
“Nice place, Akari,” Hikaru compliments, almost-but-not-quite guiding Touya inside.
Some wine, some praise for the best-dressed couple, and the party is once again underway. Akari gossips, mingles, nibbles, and decides that hosting is hard work. Retreating to the kitchen, she leans against the counter, not far from the whirring blender.
“What’s wrong?” Yuki murmurs into her ear, startling her.
“You scared me!” she gasps, calming her swishing wine. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Yuki turns off the blender so she can hear him snort. He knows her better than that. Hikaru does, too. Hikaru...
“You’ve been staring at them all night.”
“I have not!” Except that she has, when she thinks nobody’s watching. “How do you know, anyway? You’re supposed to be mixing drinks.”
She can feel him shake his head. “Just go talk to him about it.”
There’s a lump in her throat. Funny -- she didn’t know anything was bothering her, except that she sort of did. “He’ll think, everyone will think, that I have a problem with it.”
Ice clinks in a glass. “Not if he knows you as well as you think he does.”
So somehow, she finds herself leaving the kitchen, heading to the living room. The apartment isn’t big, but the trip is a long one. She takes note of everyone’s positions: Kaga, at the window with a cigarette, laughing at something with Isumi, who isn’t partaking; Nase, buzzed and curled into Takeshi, who is chatting with his fellow fish-out-of-water, Touya; and Hikaru and Waya, probably talking about manga and video games.
She plants herself in front of her childhood friend. “I need to talk to you.” There, I said it. Actually, she already feels a little better -- and yet manages to regret opening her mouth all the same.
“... Okay,” Hikaru agrees, excusing himself from Waya’s conversation.
She leads him to the bathroom, inviting playful jeers from Kaga and mock-defiance from Yuki. Behind closed doors, Akari faces Hikaru and says what she didn’t even know she had to say.
“I feel cheated!”
Of course, Hikaru has always been stupid and has no idea what he’s done -- or rather, hasn’t. “What?”
She grounds herself, feeling strangely close to tears. “I knew we were drifting apart. Had drifted, I mean. Had. But I thought...”
Hikaru looks helpless. “Yeah, what is this about?”
“I thought you’d tell me that you fell in love with Touya-kun!” she snaps, glaring.
The world stops, for just one moment. Then --
“You didn’t know?”
“ARGH!” she shrieks, exasperated.
“Aw, man, are you serious?” Now Hikaru tries to reassure her, patting her bare shoulder. “Akari, I thought you knew when I told you about our apartment.”
“Well, I didn’t.” The floodgate is open; it’s all coming out now. Her head lowers and her shoulders slump. “I’m supposed to be your best friend,” she manages. “I even followed you into go, but you -- you just kept going. Further and further away.” Before he can interject, she hastily adds, “I know! I know some things just -- happened--”
“Mitani happened,” Hikaru specifies, referring to her initial division of loyalty.
“Yes,” she agrees softly. “We were all immature, then. But I thought I would always be your best friend. And now we hardly ever talk, or see each other. And then Yuki is the one to tell me that you and Touya-kun have been dating for months.”
Silence settles between them, allowing them to process the exchange. Finally, Hikaru says, “I’m really sorry, Akari. I honestly didn’t mean to make you think I was excluding you.” He steps forward and gives her a strong, boorish hug -- like old times. “I’ll try not to be so scatter-brained and pick up the phone more often.”
“I never know if you’re busy, or what,” Akari mumbles.
“I’m just easily sidetracked,” he assures her. “Not so good with things that aren’t in my line of sight. Ask Touya!”
“That’s another thing!” She pushes out of his embrace. “If you’re in love, why aren’t you calling each other by first name?”
Hikaru thinks about it, and makes a face. “No way, too weird. Besides, it’d be easy to fall into the habit -- and we want to maintain a professional, distant appearance. It’s not a secret, but we don’t want Weekly Go playing up our relationship, right?”
“I guess,” Akari admits with a shrug. That’s pretty much what Yuki said.
Hikaru gives her a small smile. “So, are we good?”
She can’t help but smile back. “Of course we are. Of course.” She reaches for the doorknob, but pauses. “One thing, though.”
“Hm?”
“... How did it happen?”
“Huh?”
She turns back around. “You and Touya-kun. How did it happen? When did all the arguing and stalking become romance?”
“Whaddaya mean, stalking?”
“Come on!” she’s into it now, devilish glee bubbling up inside her. “Can’t blame a girl for being curious, can you? Men are always so clueless about romance with a woman, so how do two men even figure each other out?”
Hikaru backs away, fending her off with exaggerated motions. “Come on, Akari! Are you serious?”
“I don’t even have to ask who made the first move, right? Did you just kiss him? Or take his hand? Oh, you must have embarrassed him, the poor thing, how could you!”
***
When Hikaru finds Akira perusing Akari’s bookcase, he comes to slump against the wall. “Did you get me another drink?”
“Of course,” Akira replies, gesturing to the table by the bed. “What did Akari want?”
Hikaru grabs the wineglass, taking care not to think about Mitani and Akari’s bed. “I’ve just been subjected to the most intense interrogation of my life.”
“You’ve been rehearsing that line, haven’t you.”
“Oh, shut up. She wanted to know how we started dating.”
Akira stiffens like a board. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Ha!” Hikaru barks, taking a gulp of wine. “No one will ever hear about that.”
Akira turns around to give him a shaky smile, eyes darting back and forth. “Good. I, I still can’t -- go into that bathroom.”
“Be quiet,” Hikaru cautions amidst nervous laughter. “But really, she was grilling me about everything. I wanted backup -- you, Mitani, anyone. Mayday, mayday!”
“May-what?” Akira asks, brow furrowed.
“You know -- that English word, when planes are going down.”
“You mean m’aidez,” Akira corrects, with a noticeably better accent.
“Whatever.”
***
Now that she knows, Akari sees everything differently. More than once, she has berated herself for not noticing anything sooner. How could she have been so blind -- she, who has known Hikaru for their entire lives? The subtle glances, the way their tones change when speaking to one another... Touya and Hikaru are a match made in heaven, she decides.
“Hikaruuu,” she coos to him, while he’s doing her the favor of breaking more ice.
“Yeah?” Bam. Bam. Punch. Curse.
“Don’t punch the bag; you’ll break your fingers. Tell me what you do to surprise Touya-kun?”
“Surprise who?” he asks, banging the ice-bag against the counter.
“You know who!” Akari pouts. “Come on, I’ve missed out on so much! It can’t be flowers... can it?”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who picks up flowers?”
“You gave me flowers once,” she reminds him.
Another slam. “I picked them off your lawn.”
“What?” She curls her lip, disgusted. “You cheap jerk.”
“Akari, I was eight.”
“So then, chocolate? Ties? Sweaters? Why are you laughing?”
“If I was in charge of Touya’s wardrobe, I wouldn’t need to pass approval every morning.”
“Hrm.”
***
Hikaru and Touya are the last guests to leave, partly because they arrived last and partly because Akari drafted Hikaru to help her clean up.
Touya is every bit the demure, polite gentleman, bowing to her at the door. “Fujisaki-san, thank you for your hospitality. It was a wonderful party.”
Akari looks over her shoulder. Hikaru and Yuki are still in the kitchen, probably having some kind of bonding ritual after their technical estrangement. She’s alone with Touya, so she takes advantage.
“Touya-kun,” she murmurs hastily, taking his hands in hers, “I...”
He looks a little nervous. “Uh, yes?”
“I think you and Hikaru are adorable.”
+end+
Mayday
“I want to have a cocktail party,” Akari announces.
Across the table, Mitani Yuki pauses, spoon of lentil soup halfway to his lips. “Okay?” he answers.
“I’m serious,” Akari emphasizes, lowering her own spoon. “We’ve been living together for a year, and we haven’t had anyone over for so much as coffee! What kind of fiends are we?”
“Frugal?” Yuki teases, and slurps his soup.
“Come on, Yuki,” she implores, giving him the most persuasive look in her repertoire. “It isn’t a busy time for us at school right now, and we don’t work weekends. Can’t we invite everyone over for one Friday night? Maybe for Kodomo no Hi? It’ll be fun!”
Yuki considers it for a few moments. “All right,” he agrees. “It’s true, we haven’t really seen anyone in a while. E-mail and quick phone calls really don’t cut it.”
Akari jostles the little table in her haste to come around and wrap her arms around Yuki’s neck. “Thank you!”
“Ergh, don’t mention it.” He’s acting put-upon, but he touches her hip -- a fond gesture. “Who do you want to invite?”
“Everyone!” At Yuki’s incredulous stare, she amends, “Well, okay, not everyone. Isumi and Waya, for sure. Nase, Kaga, and Tsutsui,” she continues, slowly working up to the last. “Oh,” she adds brightly, “we should also invite Hikaru and Touya-kun!”
Her boyfriend hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, sure,” he agrees, to her relief. Yuki has mostly buried the hatchet in regards to Hikaru’s abandonment back in middle school. “But you can’t invite Ochi, because I can’t stand him.”
“Yay!” Akari squeals, unable to contain her giddiness. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a real cocktail party in our apartment.” She’s already thinking about what to make, what drinks to buy, and what kind of music to play. She squeezes Yuki’s arm, and he gives her a faint smile. He’s tired from his long day at the coffee shop, but enthusiastic for the idea, as well. “Oh,” she adds as an afterthought, “I’ll tell everyone that they’re welcome to bring dates, if they want.”
“Nase is seeing some guy now,” Yuki informs her. “I think his name is Takeshi? I could be wrong. Don’t know how serious they are.”
“That’s fine. It’ll be a great opportunity to catch up on tidbits just like that!” She chuckles. “I’ll tell Hikaru and Touya-kun to bring dates, too. They’ll love that.”
This makes Yuki glance up at her, visibly puzzled. “You’re kidding?”
Akari tilts her head. “Kidding? You think I shouldn’t?”
Yuki blinks, sits up straighter. “Uh, are you serious? Asking Shindou and Touya to bring dates?”
Now she’s miffed. “Why are you making fun of me?” she huffs.
“Uh.” Yuki pauses, evidently unsure of how to proceed. “Um, Akari, Shindou and Touya -- are each other’s dates.”
Akari feels as though she has missed something very important. “... What?”
Yuki’s eyes, if possible, get even wider. “Wow, you really didn’t know.”
Akari makes a helpless gesture with her hands. “Well, of course I didn’t know! When were you going to tell me?!”
Yuki shrugs, looking almost apologetic as he stares up at her. “I thought you already knew.”
“How could I have known?” she demands, stamping one heeled foot for emphasis.
Yuki scratches the back of his head. “Uh, well, they live together?”
“So do Isumi and Waya!”
“They’re always hanging out together?”
“So do Isumi and Waya!”
Yuki gives up. “Then geez, Akari, I don’t know.”
“Argh!” Akari huffs, spinning on her heel and folding her arms, pointing her nose at the ceiling. “Well, that’s just fantastic. I’ve probably made an idiot out of myself the last few times I talked to either of them.”
“Probably not,” Yuki offers, and she hears him stand. “It’s not like their relationship is a secret, exactly, though they do keep it quiet for their own privacy. They’d have told you if you’d really seemed ignorant. Probably.”
Akari takes a deep breath, and thinks about Hikaru. Brash, loud, obnoxious, determined, and sometimes, even sweet. She thinks about baking cookies for him in the winter, going swimming with him in the summer, and doing homework together in the fall. “Hee,” she ventures. “Little Hikaru has finally grown up, huh?”
“Huh?” Yuki echoes. “You think he’s grown up? I heard a few weeks ago, he refused to go to some kind of meeting because it wasn’t catered.”
“Hikaru and Akira,” Akari continues, ignoring him. “It’s, it was kind of inevitable, you know? They were always stalking one another.”
“Yeah,” Yuki agrees. “They’re both weird; it’s a match made in heaven.”
***
“I’m ready!” Shindou Hikaru announces, stepping into the living room in black jeans and a white T-shirt.
Touya Akira is waiting at the door, wearing black slacks and a purple-and-cream argyle sweater. He glances at Hikaru up and down. “You aren’t wearing that, are you?”
Instantly defensive, Hikaru draws himself up. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You look like a grade-schooler,” Akira replies in a flat tone.
“You look like a nerdy grade-schooler!” Hikaru shoots back.
Akira makes a helpless gesture with his hands. “Shindou! I don’t want to start the evening arguing. Just go change into something more acceptable.”
“Only if you change into something less lame.”
Akira makes a face. “Shindou, it’s a cocktail party. You don’t wear jeans to a cocktail party!”
“It’s Akari’s cocktail party!”
“And you haven’t seen her in ages,” Akira reminds him. “And you’re a pro; start dressing like one!”
Hikaru gives his boyfriend a withering look. “If I wear slacks and a -- ugh -- dress shirt, will you take off that horrible sweater?”
This brings Akira up short. “Horrible?” He looks down at himself. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“It is,” Hikaru insists. In the face of Akira’s visible deflation, Hikaru sighs and comes forward to fetch his wayward fashion failure. “Okay, we’ll both change. Come on.” He takes Akira’s hand, and then they head to the bedroom to find something more appropriate.
***
With the lights dimmed and Faye Wong playing softly throughout the apartment, Akari is pleased with how well her place looks for the party. She and Yuki don’t live in a large apartment, but cleaned up and rearranged, there is more than enough room for everyone to be comfortable. She has taken everyone into consideration, probably putting a little too much thought into ensuring everyone would have adequate space. Their low table has moved against the far wall, and Akari has placed some candles upon it, adding to the elegance. Their kitchen table, draped in dark purple, now sits in a corner of the living room to provide hors d’oeuvres to their guests. They will actually be one short, she reflects with some disappointment: Tsutsui respectfully declined their invitation, pleading a prior engagement.
“You look great,” Yuki observes, coming in from the kitchen. He’s wearing black slacks and a mauve dress shirt, matching her black cocktail dress, mauve scarf and heels.
“Not so bad, yourself,” she compliments, walking over to give him a peck on the cheek. “Is the bar ready?”
“And willing,” he replies with a wink.
The doorbell makes a loud, cringe-worthy noise, and Akari winces, chuckling. “The only downside to this party is that we have to buzz our guests in.”
“Can’t have it all,” Yuki laments as she makes her way to the intercom.
Moments later, Nase and Takeshi are inside, coats taken and hands shaken.
“I confess,” Nase begins, “we came early to save you from the awkward first arrivals chatter. You want us to help fold napkins, or something?”
“You are a dear,” Akari laughs.
***
Faye Wong has given way to some low piano jazz by the time Kaga arrives. He’s wearing a white suit, to Akari’s surprise, albeit the fabric is loose on him, giving him the rebellious, disheveled look they’ve come to expect.
“Yo, can I smoke in here?”
“Out the window,” she answers sweetly.
“Thank you, milady,” Kaga replies with a devilish smile, and walks by her toward the kitchen. “Yo, Mitani! Your girlfriend gets hotter every time I see her.”
“Grow up, Kaga,” Nase jeers from the couch, where she and Takeshi are on their second glasses of white wine.
“I was just saying.”
“You want a white russian?” Yuki calls from the makeshift bar.
“How well you remember,” Kaga comments, and returns to the couch to plop down next to Takeshi. “Hey, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Takeshi replies, out of his element but mingling well despite.
Another buzz, and soon Isumi and Waya are sipping wine and catching up with Kaga and Nase. A room full of the brash and the soft-spoken, the bookish and the athletic; only igo unites them. If not for each and every one’s engagement in the game, none of them would have ever met.
“Did you see Ochi’s latest game?” Isumi is saying. “He’s come a long way.”
Akari floats about the room, engaging in small talk and making sure her guests -- her friends -- are comfortable. Once everyone is watered-down, Yuki emerges from the kitchen with some wine for Akari and himself.
It’s nearly an hour later, when half the salmon puffs are gone and Kaga, Nase, and Waya are having a cigarette by the window, that the final guests arrive.
It’s about time, Akari thinks. Hikaru isn’t any more punctual than he used to be. She is surprised when she has to steel herself before pushing the button of the intercom. “Yes?”
“Hey, Akari!” Hikaru’s garbled voice cries. “Sorry we’re late!”
“No, you’re not,” Akari manages smoothly, and buzzes them in.
How could I not see it? She’s more upset with herself than anything -- and upset with him. How many years have we known each other, she wants to demand of him. You told me when you started masturbating! she thinks, getting angry -- and then kind of grossed out, because she hadn’t wanted to know that back then, never mind having flashbacks about it at her bloody cocktail party.
The door opens into her face; she leaps back, teetering on her stilettos and sputtering some kind of reprimand. Hikaru has always let himself into her house, she recalls.
“Sorry,” her childhood friend laments. “Didn’t think you’d be right there.”
She regains her balance -- and her dignity -- and starts to accept, but Hikaru’s outfit brings her up short. “H-Hikaru?”
“Yeah?” He still has a hand on the back of his head: a classic mannerism, makes her think of rummaging around in his toy-chest, demanding to know why he didn’t have any dolls.
“Um.” But gone is the child, and what stands before her is a man who actually knows how to dress formally. Hikaru is wearing a chocolate-brown suit over a striking orange dress shirt with -- are those Italian? -- dress shoes. “Um,” she says again.
“Nice threads, Shindou,” Waya pipes up.
“Ditto, you look great,” from Nase.
“He insisted on orange,” Touya Akira says, almost apologetically. He appears from behind Hikaru, looking just as good in a black-and-green combination.
Hikaru jerks a thumb at Touya. “And he insisted on argyle, and I said no.”
Akari gives the normally-shy young pro a sunny smile. “You look very handsome, Touya-kun.”
He gives her a grateful look, and bows his head. “Thank you, Fujisaki.”
She holds the smile a few moments longer, wanting him to be at ease. She doesn’t know him as well as -- Hikaru -- but she knows what it means for him to have come here, to mingle with those who (for many years, even now) barely liked him. “Well, don’t just stand there! Come in, come in!”
“Nice place, Akari,” Hikaru compliments, almost-but-not-quite guiding Touya inside.
Some wine, some praise for the best-dressed couple, and the party is once again underway. Akari gossips, mingles, nibbles, and decides that hosting is hard work. Retreating to the kitchen, she leans against the counter, not far from the whirring blender.
“What’s wrong?” Yuki murmurs into her ear, startling her.
“You scared me!” she gasps, calming her swishing wine. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Yuki turns off the blender so she can hear him snort. He knows her better than that. Hikaru does, too. Hikaru...
“You’ve been staring at them all night.”
“I have not!” Except that she has, when she thinks nobody’s watching. “How do you know, anyway? You’re supposed to be mixing drinks.”
She can feel him shake his head. “Just go talk to him about it.”
There’s a lump in her throat. Funny -- she didn’t know anything was bothering her, except that she sort of did. “He’ll think, everyone will think, that I have a problem with it.”
Ice clinks in a glass. “Not if he knows you as well as you think he does.”
So somehow, she finds herself leaving the kitchen, heading to the living room. The apartment isn’t big, but the trip is a long one. She takes note of everyone’s positions: Kaga, at the window with a cigarette, laughing at something with Isumi, who isn’t partaking; Nase, buzzed and curled into Takeshi, who is chatting with his fellow fish-out-of-water, Touya; and Hikaru and Waya, probably talking about manga and video games.
She plants herself in front of her childhood friend. “I need to talk to you.” There, I said it. Actually, she already feels a little better -- and yet manages to regret opening her mouth all the same.
“... Okay,” Hikaru agrees, excusing himself from Waya’s conversation.
She leads him to the bathroom, inviting playful jeers from Kaga and mock-defiance from Yuki. Behind closed doors, Akari faces Hikaru and says what she didn’t even know she had to say.
“I feel cheated!”
Of course, Hikaru has always been stupid and has no idea what he’s done -- or rather, hasn’t. “What?”
She grounds herself, feeling strangely close to tears. “I knew we were drifting apart. Had drifted, I mean. Had. But I thought...”
Hikaru looks helpless. “Yeah, what is this about?”
“I thought you’d tell me that you fell in love with Touya-kun!” she snaps, glaring.
The world stops, for just one moment. Then --
“You didn’t know?”
“ARGH!” she shrieks, exasperated.
“Aw, man, are you serious?” Now Hikaru tries to reassure her, patting her bare shoulder. “Akari, I thought you knew when I told you about our apartment.”
“Well, I didn’t.” The floodgate is open; it’s all coming out now. Her head lowers and her shoulders slump. “I’m supposed to be your best friend,” she manages. “I even followed you into go, but you -- you just kept going. Further and further away.” Before he can interject, she hastily adds, “I know! I know some things just -- happened--”
“Mitani happened,” Hikaru specifies, referring to her initial division of loyalty.
“Yes,” she agrees softly. “We were all immature, then. But I thought I would always be your best friend. And now we hardly ever talk, or see each other. And then Yuki is the one to tell me that you and Touya-kun have been dating for months.”
Silence settles between them, allowing them to process the exchange. Finally, Hikaru says, “I’m really sorry, Akari. I honestly didn’t mean to make you think I was excluding you.” He steps forward and gives her a strong, boorish hug -- like old times. “I’ll try not to be so scatter-brained and pick up the phone more often.”
“I never know if you’re busy, or what,” Akari mumbles.
“I’m just easily sidetracked,” he assures her. “Not so good with things that aren’t in my line of sight. Ask Touya!”
“That’s another thing!” She pushes out of his embrace. “If you’re in love, why aren’t you calling each other by first name?”
Hikaru thinks about it, and makes a face. “No way, too weird. Besides, it’d be easy to fall into the habit -- and we want to maintain a professional, distant appearance. It’s not a secret, but we don’t want Weekly Go playing up our relationship, right?”
“I guess,” Akari admits with a shrug. That’s pretty much what Yuki said.
Hikaru gives her a small smile. “So, are we good?”
She can’t help but smile back. “Of course we are. Of course.” She reaches for the doorknob, but pauses. “One thing, though.”
“Hm?”
“... How did it happen?”
“Huh?”
She turns back around. “You and Touya-kun. How did it happen? When did all the arguing and stalking become romance?”
“Whaddaya mean, stalking?”
“Come on!” she’s into it now, devilish glee bubbling up inside her. “Can’t blame a girl for being curious, can you? Men are always so clueless about romance with a woman, so how do two men even figure each other out?”
Hikaru backs away, fending her off with exaggerated motions. “Come on, Akari! Are you serious?”
“I don’t even have to ask who made the first move, right? Did you just kiss him? Or take his hand? Oh, you must have embarrassed him, the poor thing, how could you!”
***
When Hikaru finds Akira perusing Akari’s bookcase, he comes to slump against the wall. “Did you get me another drink?”
“Of course,” Akira replies, gesturing to the table by the bed. “What did Akari want?”
Hikaru grabs the wineglass, taking care not to think about Mitani and Akari’s bed. “I’ve just been subjected to the most intense interrogation of my life.”
“You’ve been rehearsing that line, haven’t you.”
“Oh, shut up. She wanted to know how we started dating.”
Akira stiffens like a board. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Ha!” Hikaru barks, taking a gulp of wine. “No one will ever hear about that.”
Akira turns around to give him a shaky smile, eyes darting back and forth. “Good. I, I still can’t -- go into that bathroom.”
“Be quiet,” Hikaru cautions amidst nervous laughter. “But really, she was grilling me about everything. I wanted backup -- you, Mitani, anyone. Mayday, mayday!”
“May-what?” Akira asks, brow furrowed.
“You know -- that English word, when planes are going down.”
“You mean m’aidez,” Akira corrects, with a noticeably better accent.
“Whatever.”
***
Now that she knows, Akari sees everything differently. More than once, she has berated herself for not noticing anything sooner. How could she have been so blind -- she, who has known Hikaru for their entire lives? The subtle glances, the way their tones change when speaking to one another... Touya and Hikaru are a match made in heaven, she decides.
“Hikaruuu,” she coos to him, while he’s doing her the favor of breaking more ice.
“Yeah?” Bam. Bam. Punch. Curse.
“Don’t punch the bag; you’ll break your fingers. Tell me what you do to surprise Touya-kun?”
“Surprise who?” he asks, banging the ice-bag against the counter.
“You know who!” Akari pouts. “Come on, I’ve missed out on so much! It can’t be flowers... can it?”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who picks up flowers?”
“You gave me flowers once,” she reminds him.
Another slam. “I picked them off your lawn.”
“What?” She curls her lip, disgusted. “You cheap jerk.”
“Akari, I was eight.”
“So then, chocolate? Ties? Sweaters? Why are you laughing?”
“If I was in charge of Touya’s wardrobe, I wouldn’t need to pass approval every morning.”
“Hrm.”
***
Hikaru and Touya are the last guests to leave, partly because they arrived last and partly because Akari drafted Hikaru to help her clean up.
Touya is every bit the demure, polite gentleman, bowing to her at the door. “Fujisaki-san, thank you for your hospitality. It was a wonderful party.”
Akari looks over her shoulder. Hikaru and Yuki are still in the kitchen, probably having some kind of bonding ritual after their technical estrangement. She’s alone with Touya, so she takes advantage.
“Touya-kun,” she murmurs hastily, taking his hands in hers, “I...”
He looks a little nervous. “Uh, yes?”
“I think you and Hikaru are adorable.”
+end+