Fic: (HnG) Season of Black Chrysanthemums: Spring - Part 1/4
Title: Season of Black Chrysanthemums: Spring
Author: corbeaun
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go belongs to Obata Takeshi and Hotta Yumi.
Summary: Years after his life fell apart, Hikaru is finally making his way back to the world of the pros. But there are some figures from his past he cannot ignore. Yakuza AU. (Sequel to "Winter")
Spring
Part 1
* * *
[Tokyo]
He touched the skin of Ichikawa's bare back, tentative and ashamed. She was asleep now, her back to him. In an hour or so, she would wake and go from his bed, dress and then kiss him goodbye. The next morning, she would greet him in the office, a cup of tea and that day's schedule ready for him. And he would pretend that everything was as it was before. She had continued to serve as secretary to the head of the Touya-gumi admirably since he'd suddenly took the reins of power after his father's murder. Her role as his mistress was relatively recent. But she seemed so comfortable in the dual position that was suddenly thrust upon her...Akira forced himself not to wonder if she had done the same for his father. She would have been just a young college student when she first met Touya Kouyo, then the youngest oyabun in the seven-thousand-member Sumiyoshi federation. Akira's mother had never mentioned otherwise or objected.
Just then, Ichikawa stirred in her sleep and rolled over, one arm falling over Akira's bare thighs. He grimaced; the contact was feverish, and uncomfortable, on his chilled skin. He sat up in the bed. Carefully, so he wouldn't wake her, Akira nudged her arm off him. She murmured restlessly in her sleep, but then shifted even closer to him in the bed. Feeling unaccountably aggravated, Akira pushed at her shoulder, trying as hard as possible to encourage her to roll away from him without actually waking her.
From experience, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with her still in bed with him, and so he didn't try.
The moment of weakness that had landed him with her in this intimacy, he now gravely regretted. He would have liked to blame the champagne he'd imbibed, but Akira was man enough to admit which part had been the alcohol and which had simply been...him.
That New Year's night, after Shindo left, he had stayed in the hotel room, trying to feel satisfied. He had achieved what he had set out that evening to do - namely, show Shindo the world he was now a part of...the man he now was. Or rather, Akira had simply stopped trying to hide it. After all, surely even Shindo did not truly think a Sumiyoshi oyabun would drive his own car and risk going to the same site week after week without a bodyguard or two.
But that night, standing there, after all that had been said and accepted...
All Akira had felt was the new year's chill and an all-encompassing loneliness.
So much so, that when Ichikawa came up to see him only a few hours after the elevator door closed behind Shindo, Akira had not resisted when she took one look at his face and instantly drew him into her arms. He remembered pressing his face to her neck. Somewhere, they kissed. What followed then was a haze of heat and desperation, ending with him in bed with one of the longest known acquaintances he had in his life. They had slept together several times since then, each time with her approaching him at night, when he felt that unvoiced desperation press down upon him most heavily.
Shindo hadn't called once.
When Akira finally called the cell he'd given Shindo, he'd received the newly recorded voice greeting:
"Hey. I'm getting out of Tokyo - actually, am on the train now. You needn't look out for me anymore. Thanks for the offer, but...I'll find a way back to the pros on my own. Maybe after I've settled down, you could come and visit. Heh. Still got those occasional games I promised you... Well. Later."
He had called one more time since then, a month after he'd confirmed that Shindo's place in Okobu was empty and let out. Akira didn't go himself, but had one of his men do it. The landlord didn't know where Shindo had gone. The recorded greeting on the cell remained the same however. Shindo either did not want him to know where he'd settled, or he had just forgotten. Akira sometimes did not know which reason was worse.
He continued to pay for the cell phone service, nonetheless.
He refused to do more than that, knowing how much danger his attention could get Shindo. Had already gotten him in.
Ohba's men had been seen wandering uncomfortably close to Shindo's old neighborhood in Okobu, before Touya had discretely sent word to his business friend whose territory that was. Upon whose words Touya had discovered that more than just Ohba had been sniffing around that particular quarter.
It was well that Shindo had left Tokyo when he did.
"Akira-kun?"
Akira looked down to see Ichikawa smiling up at him in amusement. Realizing he was running his fingers along her arm, he flushed and stopped.
"Don't stop," she told him. "Or," catching his hand, she placed it on her breast, "are you still shy?"
This was not a conversation he wanted to have. He jerked his hand away from her bare skin. "Ichikawa-san," he protested stiffly.
The woman in bed with him sighed then and sat up, the sheets pooling to her lap. "I would think we're past the point where you call me by surname, Akira," she muttered, swinging a leg onto the floor. She stood up and began pulling on her clothes.
Akira only protested stiffly, "Ichikawa-san." He knew he should try; it was one of the few personal things she'd asked of him. But there was just something wrong in calling her Harumi. He wasn't ready to think like that of someone his father had known and worked with.
Fully dressed, she touched her fingers to his chin and kissed him on the mouth. Akira let her. Ichikawa sighed as she pulled away. "You're a sweet boy, Akira-kun. And surprisingly naïve for who you are." She grabbed her purse from the dresser top. "But sometimes sex can be more than just comfort. Maybe one day you'll see that."
The bedroom door shut behind her. In the corridor, he heard a guard's voice bark out an inquiry, Ichikawa's short response, and the muffled apology. Then, silence.
In the morning, word would have spread through the Touya-gumi that he had Ichikawa Harumi over for the night again. There would be approval and admiration in the eyes of his guards and underlings - Ichikawa was a handsome, mature woman who by now was no outsider to the Japanese underworld, and it her. Being her patron could only increase Akira's standing in the eyes of his men and the members of the other factions in the Sumiyoshi alliance. In the male-dominated ranks of the Japanese underworld, a man without a girlfriend, wife, or mistress was held in some contempt. It didn't help that Akira was - as Shindo had commented more than once - pretty as a girl.
Ichikawa certainly knew what a help she was to his position. And she knew that he knew it. For all her talk of sex being more than just sex, she had a position she needed to secure, just as he did. It was difficult being a woman in the ranks of Japanese organized crime; her role as secretary to the Touya-gumi held considerable power - she was practically his second-in-command - and was viewed with some suspicion by the older oyabun in the Sumiyoshi organization; the traditional role of mistress would prove more palatable to those hard-line conservatives. Akira tried hard not to begrudge her for it. He trusted her implicitly. Sometimes, he even considered her a friend.
Akira had learned to appreciate whatever friend he had.
Thinking of Shindo Hikaru, wherever he was, he rolled away from the side of the bed Ichikawa where had lain and tried to sleep.
But sleep was some time in coming.
* * *
[Osaka]
Metal rang against metal as the skeleton for the newest office building in peripheral Osaka was assembled beam by beam. The shrill beeping of a cement truck as it backed up cut through the low rumbling of the cranes.
"Ok...almost there. Watch it! Slowly now -" The foreman carefully directed the pouring of the cement.
A few yards away, the newest addition to the construction crew - one Shindo Hikaru - heaved multiple sand bags onto his shoulder and carried them over to the wall, where he dropped them. It was a small task that had fallen to him for the day, being the lowest man on the totem pole. Every now and then, he stopped for a breath and used a grimy hand to wipe off the sweat that had gathered on his brow between the edge of his hard helmet and his eyes.
The work was both mind-numbing and back-breaking. The physical aspect had lessened slightly after a few weeks of hard labor increased his muscle mass. But the mental aspect remained the same - a deadening monotony.
When the break bell rang, Hikaru greeted the call for lunch with a welcoming exhale. He tucked his hard hat under his arm and followed the other workers into the blocky trailer that served as their dining hall.
Working like this had given him an appetite that he hadn't had since he was in his teens. He quickly downed two bento boxes, one after the other. The men seated around him, by now used to this, ignored him and ate their own food slightly slower. The rowdy noise inside the trailer settled as the last of the workers streamed in and sat down for lunch.
"Hey, shrimp." A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "We got an offer for ya."
Hikaru shrugged the hand off him, recognizing the lisping voice the crewmember. "Cut it out, Itoh." He laid his chopsticks down on the table, before turning around in his chair. "What do you want?"
Itoh looked annoyed at the wait, and jerked his thumb sharply at old Nose standing behind him. The two were notorious gamblers. "We heard you're some hot shot go player," he said grudgingly. "There's some parlors downtown; we could take you and split the winnings 60-40."
"Yeah?" Hikaru folded his arms in front of him. "Why'd I need you for that?" Actually, though he was always pressed for money, Hikaru had not even considered going to a go parlor to scrounge up winnings. For one thing, it was crass; Sai would never have approved.
One of the men sitting next to him snorted at Itoh and Nose. "He just needs a map; you two would only waste air breathing." A few of the surrounding men roared in laughter.
No one respected lisping Itoh or old Nose. Even Hikaru, the newest man on the team, ranked higher in the eyes of the rest of the crew. The two men were always embroiled in one scheme or another. This was the first time the two had approached Hikaru, however.
"70-30," Itoh reluctantly amended his offer, while scowling at the laughing men. "But that's the final offer. You in or not?"
Hikaru grinned. "Nah, I'll pass."
Itoh flushed red. Old Nose seemed not to care.
"Fine," Itoh spat, "you can keep the winnings. We'll find someone else." He jerked a hand at Nose and together the two of them left for the other end of the trailer.
The same man who had snorted at the two gamblers slapped Hikaru on the back. "Don't listen to them, kid," he said, "They're trouble. Rumor is they're on the run from debt collectors. Yakuza and the like."
Hikaru thanked him for the advice, and turned back to finish his third bento.
That was the other reason. Even if he had been willing to play go for betting money, Hikaru would have thought twice. All the go parlors that allowed such disreputable dealings were connected in some way with the Japanese underworld. Hikaru had more than his share of contact with the yakuza, thanks to one Touya Akira. And he wasn't yet ready for Touya to find him. Knowing Touya, he was afraid the man would then find some outrageous way to convince him to go back to Tokyo and the Japanese Go Institute. Nothing beat Touya Akira on a mission. And Hikaru had no desire to be further in the other man's debt. All his instincts told him that would be perilous.
Later that night, in the crowded dormitory provided by the construction company, Hikaru stared at the planks of the bunk bed above him.
Itoh had mentioned an interesting point though. Osaka must have places where lovers of the game gathered to play go. The pros of the Kansai Go Institute did not qualify by exam, as was the case for the pros of the Japanese Go Institute headquartered in Tokyo; Kansai pros qualified by insei game record. Luckily for Hikaru, he had obtained an exemption from the mandated insei age limit. He still needed to qualify for the insei exam, however. While Hikaru was waiting for the Kansai insei exams to begin, he had found a job at a construction site - deadening as it was, construction work still paid much better than working at a ramen shop. Hikaru knew he needed to quickly save up money for when he became an insei and couldn't afford to spend time working; he hadn't had the time or space since to practice go. But Hikaru thought it a good idea to go to a go parlor and play regularly for the two months before the start of the exam. It was possible, now that he had built up stamina and wasn't falling dead asleep every time he touched the mattress.
Yeah, thought Hikaru, it would be a mistake to forget what he was doing all this for.
The very next day, during the break for lunch, Hikaru sought out a man who had been ignoring him ever since he joined the crew.
When Hikaru had first spotted him weeks ago in the trailer dining hall, Hikaru had been astonished, then delighted. The other man had a few gray hairs on his head, but his beard was as black as ever. Hikaru had known at a glance who it was. "Tsubaki-san!" he'd shouted. The other man had scowled at him.
"And who the hell are you?" His voice was still just as loud as ever.
"It's me, Shindo. Shindo Hikaru." Hikaru had grinned, undeterred. "How've you been?"
Tsubaki had stared at him, then grunted. "I don't know any such Shindo's," he'd replied. "The Shindo I know was a pro. So who the hell are you?" And with that, he'd turned his back on Hikaru and had steadfastly ignored him since.
Now, weeks later, Hikaru walked up behind the man and hailed him again. "Hey, Tsubaki-san," he said. The man's great back tensed, and Hikaru hurriedly continued, "Look, I was just wondering if you'd point out some good go salons around here."
The sound of the man's chopsticks against the bento box paused. The men seated at the table around Tsubaki, similarly scruffy and bearded, pretended not to notice the interaction going on between him and Hikaru. Without turning around, Tsubaki replied gruffly, "There's some salons in Shinsekai, in south Osaka. One has a Tsume-Go on the sign, above a pachinko parlor."
Hikaru smiled. He knew he could count on him. "Thanks, Tsubaki-san."
The man said nothing, and only resumed eating.
That night, after changing out of his heavy work clothes and washing the grime from his body, Hikaru dressed for the trip to downtown Osaka. The spring air was still quite brisk and so as Hikaru left for the subway he grabbed a scarf. It was Akari's Christmas present to him, one of the few extraneous articles of clothing he'd brought in the duffle bag. He hadn't spoken to her yet about his new location, though he did leave a message with her roommate telling her he'd left the ramen shop and was going back to the pros. He felt uncomfortable talking to her again after her confession and his refusal a few months ago.
Now, standing in the moving train, Hikaru fingered the slightly skewed scarf she'd knitted for him, and decided he'd call her sometime soon. He knew his mother sometimes called Akari to find out about him.
Thinking of this, Hikaru stepped off the subway and onto Ebisucho Station. It was only a three-minute walk from there to the most destitute part of downtown Osaka, where Shinsekai was situated. Looking around, he saw a few seedy massage parlors and cinemas, and some mahjong clubs. He listened for the familiar, noisy pinging that heralded the presence of a nearby pachinko parlor. It didn't take him long. But there was no sign of any go salons, either above the pachinko parlor or beside it.
Hikaru frowned and looked around for help.
"Uh, excuse me, miss?" The tall shadow that had been loitering in the nearby alley of a club straightened and stepped into the lamplight. A closer look told Hikaru 'she' was no woman. He remembered Yuki, though, and politely continued to address the stranger as he had. "Is there a go salon around here, miss? I'm looking for the one with a Go problem on the sign."
The transvestite sauntered over to him. "Why a go salon? Isn't that for old grandpas?" She smiled artfully at him, "You look like you're thirsty... Why don't I buy you a drink?" Hikaru swallowed and noted the choker that barely covered her prominent Adam's apple.
"Umm, th-thanks," he stammered, feeling the heat rise in his face, "but I just want to know where the go salon is."
A few jeering catcalls came from the direction of the club. When Hikaru glanced over, he saw a few more unusually tall women spill out the doorway to stare and laugh at him.
The 'woman' in front of him sighed. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" she asked wistfully. "I can promise you a good time..." Hikaru shook his head determinedly. "Right." Then she shrugged. "Well, I know of a few shogi and mahjong clubs around here, but no go salons that I know of."
Hikaru was bewildered. He looked around, as if by doing so would suddenly make the sign for what he wanted appear where it should. "That can't be right. Tsubaki-san said a go salon, just above a pachinko parlor..." The neon sign above the nearby pachinko parlor blinked mockingly at him.
The stranger regarded him kindly. "Your friend may have played a joke on you. You wouldn't be the first who's come here this way." She winked at him, "But at least you were polite." She leaned in and slipped a piece of paper into his shirt pocket. "Call me if you ever change your mind."
He felt himself flush bright red, from forehead to collar, as she walked away swinging her hips to the sound of admiringly clapping hands coming from the open doorway of the club.
The next day, he stormed over to Tsubaki's lunch table and grabbed the large man by his shirt. The other man was laughing too hard to stop him. "How-how was the game, Sh-Shindo-pro?" Tsubaki gasped out between great bouts of laughter. "Was it, was it fun?"
"Damn it, Tsubaki-san!" Hikaru shouted. "I was serious!"
One of the large man's lunch companions grunted in amusement. "You sent him to that transvestite community in Shinsekai, huh, Tsubaki?" The other men around the table grinned. Obviously, this was an old joke among them.
Hikaru glared at them all. He yanked at his hold on Tsubaki's shirt. "I need to talk to you."
The large, bearded man wiped a tear from his eye. "Yeah?" he grinned. "Well, make it quick."
Hikaru shook his head at the crowded dining hall. "Not here."
The other man looked suddenly serious. "After work then."
When Hikaru finally, at the end of the workday, walked over to the west side of the building where Tsubaki worked, the large man was already waiting for him. He was tossing a motorcycle helmet from one hand to the other. Seeing Hikaru approach, Tsubaki tossed the helmet to him. "Here," he grunted, "we're going for a ride."
The motorcycle ride was bumpier and less sturdy than Hikaru remembered. It was, however, just as fast; he gripped onto the back of Tsubaki's leather jacket for dear life. The man kept yelling something from up front, but Hikaru couldn't pick out the words and only shouted back he couldn't hear. By the time they stopped and his foot touched cement again, he felt more than a little unsteady and wind-swept.
"Here we are," came Tsubaki's voice. "That place I mentioned."
Hikaru shook off the helmet and looked up to see above him the sign for a go salon with the image of a classic Tsume-Go pattern. He solved it at a glance. Looking around, Hikaru could see they were somewhere in downtown Osaka, but nowhere near Shinsekai.
"Come on, you waiting for an invite?" Tsubaki shouted down from the stairs. Hikaru scowled, but quickly followed.
The go salon was small but well-lit. For that late in the afternoon, it was surprisingly crowded; there was even a young girl playing on one of the boards. After paying the entry fee, Tsubaki chose an empty table in the corner. Hikaru also quickly paid the receptionist and took the seat opposite of the large man.
"Okay, kid." Tsubaki opened the containers of the go stones, "Let's play a game."
Hikaru hesitated, then grabbed a handful of white stones from the container. "Don't you wanna know why I quit before?" Touya hadn't asked at first because he'd thought Hikaru was still a pro. When he'd found out, he'd stormed into Hikaru's workplace. Hikaru still remembered the look in his eyes.
The large man shrugged, and laid two stones on the board. "Nah. Your business."
Hikaru stared at him. "Then why did you ignore me for weeks? And send me to Shinsekai?"
Tsubaki looked at him as if it was obvious. "Well, I was pissed. You did promise you'd take care of my dream of being a pro." He rubbed his beard, "But I figure, if you're here now, it's because of the Kansai Go Institute. So that's fine." He bowed his head. "Please."
Hikaru bowed back, and muttered the traditional well wishes. He was so annoyed at the other man that he attacked only four hands into the game. But though Tsubaki was no Touya Akira, was not even at the level of Gokiso-pro, he was no weakling. The early offensive playing cost Hikaru a few points in territory solidity. But before the other man could fully take advantage of that weakness, Hikaru had handedly cut through Tsubaki's shape on the board and killed all hope of revival.
Five turns after Hikaru knew he'd won, the large man bowed his defeat with an admiring sigh.
"Well," Tsubaki leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand through his graying hair, "you certainly haven't lost it all these years."
Hikaru frowned. The game had appeased much of his irritation with the other man, but Tsubaki's comment stung unintentionally. "Maybe not," he replied, "but I haven't been moving forward as fast as everyone else who stayed a pro." He carefully separated his white stones from the black ones, and poured them back into the container. "I'll need to work hard to catch up."
He looked up from the container to see Tsubaki staring at him thoughtfully. "I said it was no one's business but your own," the other man said, "But I am curious. It doesn't look like you stopped being serious about go."
Hikaru decided how much he should say. Unlike Touya, the other man wouldn't know about his connection to Sai. "My teacher...died," he admitted quietly. To Tsubaki, that was safe enough to reveal. "It was sudden. And before that, the person who had dragged me into the go world - disappeared." Touya, you bastard, Hikaru swore. The familiar bitterness flooded his throat. He had finally admitted to himself that it was too late for Touya to come back to the world of the pros. But the decision to quit the pros in the first place and take his father's place in the ranks of organized crime...Hikaru hadn't forgotten.
He shrugged, forcefully. "But I'm fine now. And Kansai's a new start."
"Good!" Tsubaki's voice was loud and approving. His grin stretched from behind his heavy, black beard. Reaching across the board, Tsubaki slapped Hikaru heartily on the shoulder. "Good, just keep playing. The insei exams will be here in no time!"
"Is that you, Tsubaki?" A middle-aged man glared from across the room. "You're always too loud!"
Tsubaki looked threatening at the man. "What'd you say?" he demanded loudly, looming up from his chair. More disapproving heads turned in their direction. Hikaru laughed to himself, remembering those long ago days of the pro exams in Tokyo, and suddenly felt nostalgic.
"Tsubaki, Tsubaki," the old man, who was playing the girl beside them, chided. "Games are still going on here." The girl resigned just then, and pushed away her chair. "Who's your young friend?" he asked of Tsubaki, nodding at Hikaru.
Hikaru stood up and gave a short bow. "Shindo Hikaru," he answered, quickly, before the other man could reply for him. "Pleased to meet you."
Tsubaki laughed and stood up too. He walked over to Hikaru and affectionately slung an arm over Hikaru's shoulders. "Hey, Yoshikawa-sensei!" Tsubaki boomed, addressing the old man, "Shindo here could beat your prized student, what's-his-name Kiyoko, anytime."
Hikaru flushed in embarrassment and tried to get the man to let him go.
The old man frowned at Tsubaki. "Kiyoharu. Yashiro Kiyoharu," he emphasized. Then he sighed. "Please stop calling him Kiyoko when he comes here. It's rowdy enough as it is." He turned to Hikaru with an appraising eye. "So, you're good, huh?"
Hikaru had just managed to disengage himself from Tsubaki, and sheepishly, he raised a hand to the back of his head. "I'm not weak," he answered, as honest as he could.
In the background, Tsubaki gave an impatient snort.
A light gleamed in the old man's eyes. "Will you play a game against me?" he asked politely.
Hikaru shrugged, then grinned. "Sure," he replied. After all, this was what he had come here for. He cheerfully took the seat the girl had abandoned and pulled some stones out of the container. "Nigiri, please."
The old man, Yoshikawa-sensei, nodded. "Please."
Soon, the pachi of stone upon goban pulled Hikaru into a familiar, beloved rhythm. The old man was surprisingly skilled. It was as if Sai was there again, as if the past six years had not happened and Touya Akira had never left... Then Hikaru sternly told himself to keep his mind on the game. He focused on the emerging, difficult shape beneath his hand and eventually the troublesome thoughts of his one-time rival vanished from his mind.
It was a good game.
* * *
A/N: I actually have only a little idea on how the pro qualifying process in the Kansai Go Institute works. That they don't qualify by pro exam and instead qualify by insei game record is true, but whether there is an age limit, and whether Shindo passed it, is pure speculation. If anyone has more information on this, it would be extremely welcome.
Oh, and Shinsekai really is the center of a transvestite community.
* * *
Part 2
Index
Author: corbeaun
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go belongs to Obata Takeshi and Hotta Yumi.
Summary: Years after his life fell apart, Hikaru is finally making his way back to the world of the pros. But there are some figures from his past he cannot ignore. Yakuza AU. (Sequel to "Winter")
Spring
Part 1
* * *
[Tokyo]
He touched the skin of Ichikawa's bare back, tentative and ashamed. She was asleep now, her back to him. In an hour or so, she would wake and go from his bed, dress and then kiss him goodbye. The next morning, she would greet him in the office, a cup of tea and that day's schedule ready for him. And he would pretend that everything was as it was before. She had continued to serve as secretary to the head of the Touya-gumi admirably since he'd suddenly took the reins of power after his father's murder. Her role as his mistress was relatively recent. But she seemed so comfortable in the dual position that was suddenly thrust upon her...Akira forced himself not to wonder if she had done the same for his father. She would have been just a young college student when she first met Touya Kouyo, then the youngest oyabun in the seven-thousand-member Sumiyoshi federation. Akira's mother had never mentioned otherwise or objected.
Just then, Ichikawa stirred in her sleep and rolled over, one arm falling over Akira's bare thighs. He grimaced; the contact was feverish, and uncomfortable, on his chilled skin. He sat up in the bed. Carefully, so he wouldn't wake her, Akira nudged her arm off him. She murmured restlessly in her sleep, but then shifted even closer to him in the bed. Feeling unaccountably aggravated, Akira pushed at her shoulder, trying as hard as possible to encourage her to roll away from him without actually waking her.
From experience, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with her still in bed with him, and so he didn't try.
The moment of weakness that had landed him with her in this intimacy, he now gravely regretted. He would have liked to blame the champagne he'd imbibed, but Akira was man enough to admit which part had been the alcohol and which had simply been...him.
That New Year's night, after Shindo left, he had stayed in the hotel room, trying to feel satisfied. He had achieved what he had set out that evening to do - namely, show Shindo the world he was now a part of...the man he now was. Or rather, Akira had simply stopped trying to hide it. After all, surely even Shindo did not truly think a Sumiyoshi oyabun would drive his own car and risk going to the same site week after week without a bodyguard or two.
But that night, standing there, after all that had been said and accepted...
All Akira had felt was the new year's chill and an all-encompassing loneliness.
So much so, that when Ichikawa came up to see him only a few hours after the elevator door closed behind Shindo, Akira had not resisted when she took one look at his face and instantly drew him into her arms. He remembered pressing his face to her neck. Somewhere, they kissed. What followed then was a haze of heat and desperation, ending with him in bed with one of the longest known acquaintances he had in his life. They had slept together several times since then, each time with her approaching him at night, when he felt that unvoiced desperation press down upon him most heavily.
Shindo hadn't called once.
When Akira finally called the cell he'd given Shindo, he'd received the newly recorded voice greeting:
"Hey. I'm getting out of Tokyo - actually, am on the train now. You needn't look out for me anymore. Thanks for the offer, but...I'll find a way back to the pros on my own. Maybe after I've settled down, you could come and visit. Heh. Still got those occasional games I promised you... Well. Later."
He had called one more time since then, a month after he'd confirmed that Shindo's place in Okobu was empty and let out. Akira didn't go himself, but had one of his men do it. The landlord didn't know where Shindo had gone. The recorded greeting on the cell remained the same however. Shindo either did not want him to know where he'd settled, or he had just forgotten. Akira sometimes did not know which reason was worse.
He continued to pay for the cell phone service, nonetheless.
He refused to do more than that, knowing how much danger his attention could get Shindo. Had already gotten him in.
Ohba's men had been seen wandering uncomfortably close to Shindo's old neighborhood in Okobu, before Touya had discretely sent word to his business friend whose territory that was. Upon whose words Touya had discovered that more than just Ohba had been sniffing around that particular quarter.
It was well that Shindo had left Tokyo when he did.
"Akira-kun?"
Akira looked down to see Ichikawa smiling up at him in amusement. Realizing he was running his fingers along her arm, he flushed and stopped.
"Don't stop," she told him. "Or," catching his hand, she placed it on her breast, "are you still shy?"
This was not a conversation he wanted to have. He jerked his hand away from her bare skin. "Ichikawa-san," he protested stiffly.
The woman in bed with him sighed then and sat up, the sheets pooling to her lap. "I would think we're past the point where you call me by surname, Akira," she muttered, swinging a leg onto the floor. She stood up and began pulling on her clothes.
Akira only protested stiffly, "Ichikawa-san." He knew he should try; it was one of the few personal things she'd asked of him. But there was just something wrong in calling her Harumi. He wasn't ready to think like that of someone his father had known and worked with.
Fully dressed, she touched her fingers to his chin and kissed him on the mouth. Akira let her. Ichikawa sighed as she pulled away. "You're a sweet boy, Akira-kun. And surprisingly naïve for who you are." She grabbed her purse from the dresser top. "But sometimes sex can be more than just comfort. Maybe one day you'll see that."
The bedroom door shut behind her. In the corridor, he heard a guard's voice bark out an inquiry, Ichikawa's short response, and the muffled apology. Then, silence.
In the morning, word would have spread through the Touya-gumi that he had Ichikawa Harumi over for the night again. There would be approval and admiration in the eyes of his guards and underlings - Ichikawa was a handsome, mature woman who by now was no outsider to the Japanese underworld, and it her. Being her patron could only increase Akira's standing in the eyes of his men and the members of the other factions in the Sumiyoshi alliance. In the male-dominated ranks of the Japanese underworld, a man without a girlfriend, wife, or mistress was held in some contempt. It didn't help that Akira was - as Shindo had commented more than once - pretty as a girl.
Ichikawa certainly knew what a help she was to his position. And she knew that he knew it. For all her talk of sex being more than just sex, she had a position she needed to secure, just as he did. It was difficult being a woman in the ranks of Japanese organized crime; her role as secretary to the Touya-gumi held considerable power - she was practically his second-in-command - and was viewed with some suspicion by the older oyabun in the Sumiyoshi organization; the traditional role of mistress would prove more palatable to those hard-line conservatives. Akira tried hard not to begrudge her for it. He trusted her implicitly. Sometimes, he even considered her a friend.
Akira had learned to appreciate whatever friend he had.
Thinking of Shindo Hikaru, wherever he was, he rolled away from the side of the bed Ichikawa where had lain and tried to sleep.
But sleep was some time in coming.
* * *
[Osaka]
Metal rang against metal as the skeleton for the newest office building in peripheral Osaka was assembled beam by beam. The shrill beeping of a cement truck as it backed up cut through the low rumbling of the cranes.
"Ok...almost there. Watch it! Slowly now -" The foreman carefully directed the pouring of the cement.
A few yards away, the newest addition to the construction crew - one Shindo Hikaru - heaved multiple sand bags onto his shoulder and carried them over to the wall, where he dropped them. It was a small task that had fallen to him for the day, being the lowest man on the totem pole. Every now and then, he stopped for a breath and used a grimy hand to wipe off the sweat that had gathered on his brow between the edge of his hard helmet and his eyes.
The work was both mind-numbing and back-breaking. The physical aspect had lessened slightly after a few weeks of hard labor increased his muscle mass. But the mental aspect remained the same - a deadening monotony.
When the break bell rang, Hikaru greeted the call for lunch with a welcoming exhale. He tucked his hard hat under his arm and followed the other workers into the blocky trailer that served as their dining hall.
Working like this had given him an appetite that he hadn't had since he was in his teens. He quickly downed two bento boxes, one after the other. The men seated around him, by now used to this, ignored him and ate their own food slightly slower. The rowdy noise inside the trailer settled as the last of the workers streamed in and sat down for lunch.
"Hey, shrimp." A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "We got an offer for ya."
Hikaru shrugged the hand off him, recognizing the lisping voice the crewmember. "Cut it out, Itoh." He laid his chopsticks down on the table, before turning around in his chair. "What do you want?"
Itoh looked annoyed at the wait, and jerked his thumb sharply at old Nose standing behind him. The two were notorious gamblers. "We heard you're some hot shot go player," he said grudgingly. "There's some parlors downtown; we could take you and split the winnings 60-40."
"Yeah?" Hikaru folded his arms in front of him. "Why'd I need you for that?" Actually, though he was always pressed for money, Hikaru had not even considered going to a go parlor to scrounge up winnings. For one thing, it was crass; Sai would never have approved.
One of the men sitting next to him snorted at Itoh and Nose. "He just needs a map; you two would only waste air breathing." A few of the surrounding men roared in laughter.
No one respected lisping Itoh or old Nose. Even Hikaru, the newest man on the team, ranked higher in the eyes of the rest of the crew. The two men were always embroiled in one scheme or another. This was the first time the two had approached Hikaru, however.
"70-30," Itoh reluctantly amended his offer, while scowling at the laughing men. "But that's the final offer. You in or not?"
Hikaru grinned. "Nah, I'll pass."
Itoh flushed red. Old Nose seemed not to care.
"Fine," Itoh spat, "you can keep the winnings. We'll find someone else." He jerked a hand at Nose and together the two of them left for the other end of the trailer.
The same man who had snorted at the two gamblers slapped Hikaru on the back. "Don't listen to them, kid," he said, "They're trouble. Rumor is they're on the run from debt collectors. Yakuza and the like."
Hikaru thanked him for the advice, and turned back to finish his third bento.
That was the other reason. Even if he had been willing to play go for betting money, Hikaru would have thought twice. All the go parlors that allowed such disreputable dealings were connected in some way with the Japanese underworld. Hikaru had more than his share of contact with the yakuza, thanks to one Touya Akira. And he wasn't yet ready for Touya to find him. Knowing Touya, he was afraid the man would then find some outrageous way to convince him to go back to Tokyo and the Japanese Go Institute. Nothing beat Touya Akira on a mission. And Hikaru had no desire to be further in the other man's debt. All his instincts told him that would be perilous.
Later that night, in the crowded dormitory provided by the construction company, Hikaru stared at the planks of the bunk bed above him.
Itoh had mentioned an interesting point though. Osaka must have places where lovers of the game gathered to play go. The pros of the Kansai Go Institute did not qualify by exam, as was the case for the pros of the Japanese Go Institute headquartered in Tokyo; Kansai pros qualified by insei game record. Luckily for Hikaru, he had obtained an exemption from the mandated insei age limit. He still needed to qualify for the insei exam, however. While Hikaru was waiting for the Kansai insei exams to begin, he had found a job at a construction site - deadening as it was, construction work still paid much better than working at a ramen shop. Hikaru knew he needed to quickly save up money for when he became an insei and couldn't afford to spend time working; he hadn't had the time or space since to practice go. But Hikaru thought it a good idea to go to a go parlor and play regularly for the two months before the start of the exam. It was possible, now that he had built up stamina and wasn't falling dead asleep every time he touched the mattress.
Yeah, thought Hikaru, it would be a mistake to forget what he was doing all this for.
The very next day, during the break for lunch, Hikaru sought out a man who had been ignoring him ever since he joined the crew.
When Hikaru had first spotted him weeks ago in the trailer dining hall, Hikaru had been astonished, then delighted. The other man had a few gray hairs on his head, but his beard was as black as ever. Hikaru had known at a glance who it was. "Tsubaki-san!" he'd shouted. The other man had scowled at him.
"And who the hell are you?" His voice was still just as loud as ever.
"It's me, Shindo. Shindo Hikaru." Hikaru had grinned, undeterred. "How've you been?"
Tsubaki had stared at him, then grunted. "I don't know any such Shindo's," he'd replied. "The Shindo I know was a pro. So who the hell are you?" And with that, he'd turned his back on Hikaru and had steadfastly ignored him since.
Now, weeks later, Hikaru walked up behind the man and hailed him again. "Hey, Tsubaki-san," he said. The man's great back tensed, and Hikaru hurriedly continued, "Look, I was just wondering if you'd point out some good go salons around here."
The sound of the man's chopsticks against the bento box paused. The men seated at the table around Tsubaki, similarly scruffy and bearded, pretended not to notice the interaction going on between him and Hikaru. Without turning around, Tsubaki replied gruffly, "There's some salons in Shinsekai, in south Osaka. One has a Tsume-Go on the sign, above a pachinko parlor."
Hikaru smiled. He knew he could count on him. "Thanks, Tsubaki-san."
The man said nothing, and only resumed eating.
That night, after changing out of his heavy work clothes and washing the grime from his body, Hikaru dressed for the trip to downtown Osaka. The spring air was still quite brisk and so as Hikaru left for the subway he grabbed a scarf. It was Akari's Christmas present to him, one of the few extraneous articles of clothing he'd brought in the duffle bag. He hadn't spoken to her yet about his new location, though he did leave a message with her roommate telling her he'd left the ramen shop and was going back to the pros. He felt uncomfortable talking to her again after her confession and his refusal a few months ago.
Now, standing in the moving train, Hikaru fingered the slightly skewed scarf she'd knitted for him, and decided he'd call her sometime soon. He knew his mother sometimes called Akari to find out about him.
Thinking of this, Hikaru stepped off the subway and onto Ebisucho Station. It was only a three-minute walk from there to the most destitute part of downtown Osaka, where Shinsekai was situated. Looking around, he saw a few seedy massage parlors and cinemas, and some mahjong clubs. He listened for the familiar, noisy pinging that heralded the presence of a nearby pachinko parlor. It didn't take him long. But there was no sign of any go salons, either above the pachinko parlor or beside it.
Hikaru frowned and looked around for help.
"Uh, excuse me, miss?" The tall shadow that had been loitering in the nearby alley of a club straightened and stepped into the lamplight. A closer look told Hikaru 'she' was no woman. He remembered Yuki, though, and politely continued to address the stranger as he had. "Is there a go salon around here, miss? I'm looking for the one with a Go problem on the sign."
The transvestite sauntered over to him. "Why a go salon? Isn't that for old grandpas?" She smiled artfully at him, "You look like you're thirsty... Why don't I buy you a drink?" Hikaru swallowed and noted the choker that barely covered her prominent Adam's apple.
"Umm, th-thanks," he stammered, feeling the heat rise in his face, "but I just want to know where the go salon is."
A few jeering catcalls came from the direction of the club. When Hikaru glanced over, he saw a few more unusually tall women spill out the doorway to stare and laugh at him.
The 'woman' in front of him sighed. "Are you sure, sweetheart?" she asked wistfully. "I can promise you a good time..." Hikaru shook his head determinedly. "Right." Then she shrugged. "Well, I know of a few shogi and mahjong clubs around here, but no go salons that I know of."
Hikaru was bewildered. He looked around, as if by doing so would suddenly make the sign for what he wanted appear where it should. "That can't be right. Tsubaki-san said a go salon, just above a pachinko parlor..." The neon sign above the nearby pachinko parlor blinked mockingly at him.
The stranger regarded him kindly. "Your friend may have played a joke on you. You wouldn't be the first who's come here this way." She winked at him, "But at least you were polite." She leaned in and slipped a piece of paper into his shirt pocket. "Call me if you ever change your mind."
He felt himself flush bright red, from forehead to collar, as she walked away swinging her hips to the sound of admiringly clapping hands coming from the open doorway of the club.
The next day, he stormed over to Tsubaki's lunch table and grabbed the large man by his shirt. The other man was laughing too hard to stop him. "How-how was the game, Sh-Shindo-pro?" Tsubaki gasped out between great bouts of laughter. "Was it, was it fun?"
"Damn it, Tsubaki-san!" Hikaru shouted. "I was serious!"
One of the large man's lunch companions grunted in amusement. "You sent him to that transvestite community in Shinsekai, huh, Tsubaki?" The other men around the table grinned. Obviously, this was an old joke among them.
Hikaru glared at them all. He yanked at his hold on Tsubaki's shirt. "I need to talk to you."
The large, bearded man wiped a tear from his eye. "Yeah?" he grinned. "Well, make it quick."
Hikaru shook his head at the crowded dining hall. "Not here."
The other man looked suddenly serious. "After work then."
When Hikaru finally, at the end of the workday, walked over to the west side of the building where Tsubaki worked, the large man was already waiting for him. He was tossing a motorcycle helmet from one hand to the other. Seeing Hikaru approach, Tsubaki tossed the helmet to him. "Here," he grunted, "we're going for a ride."
The motorcycle ride was bumpier and less sturdy than Hikaru remembered. It was, however, just as fast; he gripped onto the back of Tsubaki's leather jacket for dear life. The man kept yelling something from up front, but Hikaru couldn't pick out the words and only shouted back he couldn't hear. By the time they stopped and his foot touched cement again, he felt more than a little unsteady and wind-swept.
"Here we are," came Tsubaki's voice. "That place I mentioned."
Hikaru shook off the helmet and looked up to see above him the sign for a go salon with the image of a classic Tsume-Go pattern. He solved it at a glance. Looking around, Hikaru could see they were somewhere in downtown Osaka, but nowhere near Shinsekai.
"Come on, you waiting for an invite?" Tsubaki shouted down from the stairs. Hikaru scowled, but quickly followed.
The go salon was small but well-lit. For that late in the afternoon, it was surprisingly crowded; there was even a young girl playing on one of the boards. After paying the entry fee, Tsubaki chose an empty table in the corner. Hikaru also quickly paid the receptionist and took the seat opposite of the large man.
"Okay, kid." Tsubaki opened the containers of the go stones, "Let's play a game."
Hikaru hesitated, then grabbed a handful of white stones from the container. "Don't you wanna know why I quit before?" Touya hadn't asked at first because he'd thought Hikaru was still a pro. When he'd found out, he'd stormed into Hikaru's workplace. Hikaru still remembered the look in his eyes.
The large man shrugged, and laid two stones on the board. "Nah. Your business."
Hikaru stared at him. "Then why did you ignore me for weeks? And send me to Shinsekai?"
Tsubaki looked at him as if it was obvious. "Well, I was pissed. You did promise you'd take care of my dream of being a pro." He rubbed his beard, "But I figure, if you're here now, it's because of the Kansai Go Institute. So that's fine." He bowed his head. "Please."
Hikaru bowed back, and muttered the traditional well wishes. He was so annoyed at the other man that he attacked only four hands into the game. But though Tsubaki was no Touya Akira, was not even at the level of Gokiso-pro, he was no weakling. The early offensive playing cost Hikaru a few points in territory solidity. But before the other man could fully take advantage of that weakness, Hikaru had handedly cut through Tsubaki's shape on the board and killed all hope of revival.
Five turns after Hikaru knew he'd won, the large man bowed his defeat with an admiring sigh.
"Well," Tsubaki leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand through his graying hair, "you certainly haven't lost it all these years."
Hikaru frowned. The game had appeased much of his irritation with the other man, but Tsubaki's comment stung unintentionally. "Maybe not," he replied, "but I haven't been moving forward as fast as everyone else who stayed a pro." He carefully separated his white stones from the black ones, and poured them back into the container. "I'll need to work hard to catch up."
He looked up from the container to see Tsubaki staring at him thoughtfully. "I said it was no one's business but your own," the other man said, "But I am curious. It doesn't look like you stopped being serious about go."
Hikaru decided how much he should say. Unlike Touya, the other man wouldn't know about his connection to Sai. "My teacher...died," he admitted quietly. To Tsubaki, that was safe enough to reveal. "It was sudden. And before that, the person who had dragged me into the go world - disappeared." Touya, you bastard, Hikaru swore. The familiar bitterness flooded his throat. He had finally admitted to himself that it was too late for Touya to come back to the world of the pros. But the decision to quit the pros in the first place and take his father's place in the ranks of organized crime...Hikaru hadn't forgotten.
He shrugged, forcefully. "But I'm fine now. And Kansai's a new start."
"Good!" Tsubaki's voice was loud and approving. His grin stretched from behind his heavy, black beard. Reaching across the board, Tsubaki slapped Hikaru heartily on the shoulder. "Good, just keep playing. The insei exams will be here in no time!"
"Is that you, Tsubaki?" A middle-aged man glared from across the room. "You're always too loud!"
Tsubaki looked threatening at the man. "What'd you say?" he demanded loudly, looming up from his chair. More disapproving heads turned in their direction. Hikaru laughed to himself, remembering those long ago days of the pro exams in Tokyo, and suddenly felt nostalgic.
"Tsubaki, Tsubaki," the old man, who was playing the girl beside them, chided. "Games are still going on here." The girl resigned just then, and pushed away her chair. "Who's your young friend?" he asked of Tsubaki, nodding at Hikaru.
Hikaru stood up and gave a short bow. "Shindo Hikaru," he answered, quickly, before the other man could reply for him. "Pleased to meet you."
Tsubaki laughed and stood up too. He walked over to Hikaru and affectionately slung an arm over Hikaru's shoulders. "Hey, Yoshikawa-sensei!" Tsubaki boomed, addressing the old man, "Shindo here could beat your prized student, what's-his-name Kiyoko, anytime."
Hikaru flushed in embarrassment and tried to get the man to let him go.
The old man frowned at Tsubaki. "Kiyoharu. Yashiro Kiyoharu," he emphasized. Then he sighed. "Please stop calling him Kiyoko when he comes here. It's rowdy enough as it is." He turned to Hikaru with an appraising eye. "So, you're good, huh?"
Hikaru had just managed to disengage himself from Tsubaki, and sheepishly, he raised a hand to the back of his head. "I'm not weak," he answered, as honest as he could.
In the background, Tsubaki gave an impatient snort.
A light gleamed in the old man's eyes. "Will you play a game against me?" he asked politely.
Hikaru shrugged, then grinned. "Sure," he replied. After all, this was what he had come here for. He cheerfully took the seat the girl had abandoned and pulled some stones out of the container. "Nigiri, please."
The old man, Yoshikawa-sensei, nodded. "Please."
Soon, the pachi of stone upon goban pulled Hikaru into a familiar, beloved rhythm. The old man was surprisingly skilled. It was as if Sai was there again, as if the past six years had not happened and Touya Akira had never left... Then Hikaru sternly told himself to keep his mind on the game. He focused on the emerging, difficult shape beneath his hand and eventually the troublesome thoughts of his one-time rival vanished from his mind.
It was a good game.
* * *
A/N: I actually have only a little idea on how the pro qualifying process in the Kansai Go Institute works. That they don't qualify by pro exam and instead qualify by insei game record is true, but whether there is an age limit, and whether Shindo passed it, is pure speculation. If anyone has more information on this, it would be extremely welcome.
Oh, and Shinsekai really is the center of a transvestite community.
* * *
Part 2
Index