[HnG] You Can't Trade in Life Without a Receipt, PG, gen, humor
Fic #2. Fic idea sparked by the lovely kitsune_jade, who suggested kpop/jpop!Hikago. Originally posted here.
You Can't Trade in Life Without a Receipt
Hikaru no Go, gen, PG, 997 words
When Hikaru wakes up in an alternate reality, there's no one to blame but himself.
The day Hikaru wakes up in an alternate reality, he doesn't realize it.
To be fair, he had nothing on his schedule that day except lounging lazily in front of his TV in sweats. It's sort of drizzly and gray outside and he doesn't really feel inclined to go outside, so he wastes away the afternoon watching an idol drama.
Waya texts him at one point, when the girl on screen has fallen down - from cancer, Hikaru suspects - but all the text says is: Sequins are the bane of all guys' existence.
Hikaru's used to inexplicable texts from Waya so he just texts back: Nah, feathers.
Don't be late tomorrow. Akira will kill you.
Hikaru just shrugs and returns to the TV.
If he'd been paying a little less attention to the drama - hah! he knew she had cancer - Hikaru might have wondered about Waya calling Akira by his first name. He doesn't notice though, and that's why Hikaru doesn't realize he woke up in an alternate reality until the next day, when Akira barges into his apartment in the morning and demands to know why he isn't at the studio.
***
"No way," Hikaru says blankly, doing his very best not to just break down and throw a tantrum on the floor. He's breathing, he's calm. It's cool. It's not like this isn't fixable.
Hikaru squeezes his eyes shut and wonders when his life got so weird. Okay, Sai was supernatural and strange enough, but at least Hikaru was still living his own life in his own world. Why, all of a sudden, has he somehow been thrown into someone else's life?
"Hikaru," Akira snaps and Hikaru opens his eyes again.
Akira is still standing in front of him in a hideous lavender outfit, only it's worse than the suit from Hikaru's memories - from his real life - because now it's got sequins and weird dangly feather bits and Hikaru takes it back, he's not calm, he's not breathing, he is hyperventilating, thank you very much.
"Hikaru!" Now Akira sounds equal parts concerned and annoyed. He touches Hikaru's shoulder, tries peering into his eyes, and he feels the same but he smells different, like pricey cologne. Hikaru officially flips out.
"I can't do this," he sputters. "I can't. Just. What. This isn't my life--" He is not a pop star, for crying out loud. He's a professional go player! Touya Akira is not a pop star, he's not meant to wear frilly purple things with eye makeup and stare at Hikaru like he's the crazy one.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," Hikaru tries, grasping at straws.
Akira's brows are drawn over his eyes now, a familiar look. Hikaru has seen it so many times over a goban. "Hikaru," Akira says softly, and now his hands have settled firmly on Hikaru's shoulders, "Hikaru--"
But Hikaru's not ready to listen. He breaks away from Akira's hold and darts out of the studio, rushing past startled stylists and technicians. He hears Akira shouting after him but he's running, sneakers pounding the corridor floors, a steady beat to counter the rapid pace of his heart. Hikaru doesn't even know where he's going in this maze of a building. He's used to the Go Institute, the quiet stillness and the gentle pachik of go stones, not this electric buzz of media and people everywhere.
Hikaru wonders how you tell the difference between an alternate reality and a dream. He'd like to wake up now.
***
He ends up outside in an unfamiliar area of Tokyo. It doesn't help with the panic attack he's having. He shoves his hands in his pockets and just starts walking - he'll hit a subway station sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. Hopefully the subway will take him straight back to sanity.
Instead, Hikaru is faced with a curious gaze after curious gaze from passersby. He's stopped on the corner of a busy intersection, trying to decide what direction to go, when a pair of schoolgirls stop him, wide-eyed.
"Shindou Hikaru?" one of them exclaims. "Ohmigod. Ohmigod." Her voice reaches octaves Hikaru doesn't know existed.
"C-can we get an autograph?" the other girl breathes.
It's a half-formed wish but Hikaru can't stop the disappointment that floods him when signing his name - some sort of bizarre acknowledgement of this crazy world - doesn't reset things.
***
His phone rings. It's Akira. Hikaru ignores it, can't deal with it. He's ended up in Akihabara, blindly passing store after store. He bought a cheap pair of sunglasses from a subway stop on the way and it's gone some ways in reducing his apparently idol-level visibility. Now the girls all stare but none approach him, unsure if he really is (insert hushed, reverent tones) Shindou Hikaru or just someone who looks like him.
Hikaru's phone rings again and Hikaru looks at it wearily, expecting Akira again. He blinks at the screen.
It's his own number.
Or, at least, it's the number he had in his own version of reality. Hikaru's phone is the same but maybe the number is different. He really has no idea how this alternate reality stuff works, so Hikaru just answers the call. "Hello?"
"Oh thank god." A huge sigh of relief. "Is that...me? Are you stuck in my life? I can't do this anymore. Jeez, I don't know anything about go."
Hikaru freezes. It's his own voice. "I... You're - living my life?"
"I'm ready to trade back." He sounds disgruntled. "But the time-space witch apparently doesn't exist in this reality or something. I can't find her. You're going to have to do it."
A rush of hope, slamming through his chest with the impact of a train. So this is all fixable. Somehow. Hikaru starts breathing again.
"Her name's Yuuko," says his other self.
(Then, sheepishly, "Uh, I hope you don't mind that I sort of lost a game today. Akira was pretty pissed. Man, he is just as uptight in this reality.")
--
Started: 2010.04.26
Finished: 2010.04.27
You Can't Trade in Life Without a Receipt
Hikaru no Go, gen, PG, 997 words
When Hikaru wakes up in an alternate reality, there's no one to blame but himself.
The day Hikaru wakes up in an alternate reality, he doesn't realize it.
To be fair, he had nothing on his schedule that day except lounging lazily in front of his TV in sweats. It's sort of drizzly and gray outside and he doesn't really feel inclined to go outside, so he wastes away the afternoon watching an idol drama.
Waya texts him at one point, when the girl on screen has fallen down - from cancer, Hikaru suspects - but all the text says is: Sequins are the bane of all guys' existence.
Hikaru's used to inexplicable texts from Waya so he just texts back: Nah, feathers.
Don't be late tomorrow. Akira will kill you.
Hikaru just shrugs and returns to the TV.
If he'd been paying a little less attention to the drama - hah! he knew she had cancer - Hikaru might have wondered about Waya calling Akira by his first name. He doesn't notice though, and that's why Hikaru doesn't realize he woke up in an alternate reality until the next day, when Akira barges into his apartment in the morning and demands to know why he isn't at the studio.
***
"No way," Hikaru says blankly, doing his very best not to just break down and throw a tantrum on the floor. He's breathing, he's calm. It's cool. It's not like this isn't fixable.
Hikaru squeezes his eyes shut and wonders when his life got so weird. Okay, Sai was supernatural and strange enough, but at least Hikaru was still living his own life in his own world. Why, all of a sudden, has he somehow been thrown into someone else's life?
"Hikaru," Akira snaps and Hikaru opens his eyes again.
Akira is still standing in front of him in a hideous lavender outfit, only it's worse than the suit from Hikaru's memories - from his real life - because now it's got sequins and weird dangly feather bits and Hikaru takes it back, he's not calm, he's not breathing, he is hyperventilating, thank you very much.
"Hikaru!" Now Akira sounds equal parts concerned and annoyed. He touches Hikaru's shoulder, tries peering into his eyes, and he feels the same but he smells different, like pricey cologne. Hikaru officially flips out.
"I can't do this," he sputters. "I can't. Just. What. This isn't my life--" He is not a pop star, for crying out loud. He's a professional go player! Touya Akira is not a pop star, he's not meant to wear frilly purple things with eye makeup and stare at Hikaru like he's the crazy one.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," Hikaru tries, grasping at straws.
Akira's brows are drawn over his eyes now, a familiar look. Hikaru has seen it so many times over a goban. "Hikaru," Akira says softly, and now his hands have settled firmly on Hikaru's shoulders, "Hikaru--"
But Hikaru's not ready to listen. He breaks away from Akira's hold and darts out of the studio, rushing past startled stylists and technicians. He hears Akira shouting after him but he's running, sneakers pounding the corridor floors, a steady beat to counter the rapid pace of his heart. Hikaru doesn't even know where he's going in this maze of a building. He's used to the Go Institute, the quiet stillness and the gentle pachik of go stones, not this electric buzz of media and people everywhere.
Hikaru wonders how you tell the difference between an alternate reality and a dream. He'd like to wake up now.
***
He ends up outside in an unfamiliar area of Tokyo. It doesn't help with the panic attack he's having. He shoves his hands in his pockets and just starts walking - he'll hit a subway station sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. Hopefully the subway will take him straight back to sanity.
Instead, Hikaru is faced with a curious gaze after curious gaze from passersby. He's stopped on the corner of a busy intersection, trying to decide what direction to go, when a pair of schoolgirls stop him, wide-eyed.
"Shindou Hikaru?" one of them exclaims. "Ohmigod. Ohmigod." Her voice reaches octaves Hikaru doesn't know existed.
"C-can we get an autograph?" the other girl breathes.
It's a half-formed wish but Hikaru can't stop the disappointment that floods him when signing his name - some sort of bizarre acknowledgement of this crazy world - doesn't reset things.
***
His phone rings. It's Akira. Hikaru ignores it, can't deal with it. He's ended up in Akihabara, blindly passing store after store. He bought a cheap pair of sunglasses from a subway stop on the way and it's gone some ways in reducing his apparently idol-level visibility. Now the girls all stare but none approach him, unsure if he really is (insert hushed, reverent tones) Shindou Hikaru or just someone who looks like him.
Hikaru's phone rings again and Hikaru looks at it wearily, expecting Akira again. He blinks at the screen.
It's his own number.
Or, at least, it's the number he had in his own version of reality. Hikaru's phone is the same but maybe the number is different. He really has no idea how this alternate reality stuff works, so Hikaru just answers the call. "Hello?"
"Oh thank god." A huge sigh of relief. "Is that...me? Are you stuck in my life? I can't do this anymore. Jeez, I don't know anything about go."
Hikaru freezes. It's his own voice. "I... You're - living my life?"
"I'm ready to trade back." He sounds disgruntled. "But the time-space witch apparently doesn't exist in this reality or something. I can't find her. You're going to have to do it."
A rush of hope, slamming through his chest with the impact of a train. So this is all fixable. Somehow. Hikaru starts breathing again.
"Her name's Yuuko," says his other self.
(Then, sheepishly, "Uh, I hope you don't mind that I sort of lost a game today. Akira was pretty pissed. Man, he is just as uptight in this reality.")
--
Started: 2010.04.26
Finished: 2010.04.27