Fic: (HnG) Season of Black Chrysanthemums: Spring - Part 4/4
Title: Season of Black Chrysanthemums: Spring
Author: corbeaun
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go belongs to Obata Takeshi and Hotta Yumi.
Summary: In which Akira has issues with Yashiro...and let's everyone know it. And part of Icchan's scheme is revealed.
Thank you therhoda, for telling me to write the last section. :)
Spring
Part 4
* * *
"Dude, what's gotten into you?"
Hikaru looked up to see Yashiro staring at him disgruntled. Yashiro scowled pointedly at the board between them. Hikaru looked back down and realized he'd just inadvertently killed his own cluster in the upper rightmost corner. He winced, and put a hand sheepishly to the back of his head. "Eh, sorry. If you want," Hikaru offered reluctantly, "I'll stay for an extra game."
He was loath to, though, since it was already late and he still needed to get up at dawn the next morning. He'd pressed the foreman for a heavier workload: a professional tournament applicable to amateurs was coming up and he wouldn't be able to work for money then. And of course, there was the upcoming insei exam. In consequence, lately, sleep held more appeal than go with Yashiro.
Yashiro heaved a sigh, and shoved a hand through his spiked hair. He sat back in the go salon's chair. "It's not just this one game. You've been this way this whole freaking week."
Tired and pressed, Hikaru felt himself getting irritated. Touya, he was suddenly reminded, was coming in two days. "Look, college-boy," he snapped, "I've got other things going on."
Yashiro's eyes narrowed at the dig, but he did not immediately respond to the implied criticism. Instead, he began sweeping his stones back into their container, clearing the game midway. "You were the one who talked about nothing getting in the way of the game," he retorted.
Hikaru scowled guiltily. His focus had been completely shot for the past few days; he knew Yashiro must have been frustrated - it was a minor miracle that the other man hadn't complained before now. Still, even knowing this did not make it easy for him to reign in his temper. "My concentration's off," he conceded grudgingly. "But I'll be kicking your ass again across the goban before you know it," he promised.
For a moment, the other man stopped sorting the stones. Then he smirked. He put away the last of his stones and firmly closed the container lid. "How about a rematch, this Sunday?" he challenged.
"Can't." Hikaru swept the remaining stones on the board into his own container.
Yashiro's smirk faded. "Why? You scared?"
Hikaru glared at the man. He was really getting on Hikaru's nerves today. "Got work," he replied shortly. The very last thing he wanted to explain to Yashiro was Touya Akira. Hikaru felt a headache coming just thinking about it.
Yashiro's eyes narrowed. "The whole day?" he said, suspicious. Unfortunately, the other man knew Hikaru's schedule: the day after tomorrow was Sunday, the one day in the week that Hikaru had off. Usually, Hikaru was more than glad to spend that entire day at Yoshikawa-sensei's go salon
"Just like I said," Hikaru repeated firmly, "Work." He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. "See you next week."
He left Yashiro scowling behind him.
Lately, the other man had been demanding more and more of his time. Whenever Hikaru visited Yoshikawa-sensei's go salon lately, Yashiro was there, waiting for him. It made Hikaru a little uncomfortable.
Yashiro had never given Hikaru a reply to that question on why he played go, but it seemed that something had lit a fire under him. And it wasn't just his recent inability to concentrate that let Yashiro control the flow of stones on the goban. Not too long ago, Yashiro's mentor had approached Hikaru and solemnly thanked him for helping Yashiro's long-awaited rise to 7-dan. Hikaru had dismissed the thanks; he had done nothing really. All Yashiro had needed was a reminder of why he was a pro in the first place. Hikaru reminded himself every time he touched the old go stone in his pocket - he only wished Yashiro would stop using him as his personal go memento.
Which made his recent inability to concentrate on the board all the more frustrating.
Back in the company dormitory, Hikaru sat down heavily on his bunk bed. It was late enough that even the card players had dispersed and gone to sleep. In the darkness, Tsubaki's familiar, rumbling snores sounded from one of the nearby beds. Toeing off his sneakers, Hikaru climbed into his own bed fully dressed; it meant less time to get ready in the morning. With the discipline of long practice, as soon as his head hit his pillow-cum-backpack, Hikaru fell asleep.
The next day passed more quickly than expected. The foreman had made good on his promise to give Hikaru more work; it meant sore shoulders and aching muscles at night, but it also meant more money to pay for participation in the Samsung Cup preliminaries. Airline tickets and enrollment fees weren't cheap. But the heavier workload didn't lessen the work's deadening monotony.
By the time Sunday morning rolled around, Hikaru was looking forward to it. Even if seeing Touya might mess up his life again.
"After all," he comforted himself as he walked down the Dotonbori street to the agreed meeting place, "everything worked out alright last time."
As he had expected, Touya was early. Hikaru noticed him instantly through the mid-morning crowd.
He was standing out of the sun, under the awning, just off to the side of a couple of tourists who were busily snapping photos of themselves under the restaurant's giant mechanical crab. Touya stood a polite distance away, just enough so that he wouldn't be caught in any of the shots. His hair had been pulled back, and dark sunglasses hid half his face. He had also forgone his usual tie-and-suit combination for a more causal look of jeans and turtleneck.
Stopping under the same awning not too far away, Hikaru eyed the jeans warily; they looked suspiciously like they'd been ironed. It also looked like Touya was a decade off from the current fashion - those jeans were much too tight.
Then Touya turned around.
Hikaru looked up quickly, abruptly realizing he had been staring at another man's ass. "T-Touya!" he said loudly. He hoped the heat rising in his face wasn't too apparent.
But the other man only replied, "You're late." The sunglasses didn't let Hikaru see his expression, but he didn't sound too upset. Touya didn't seem to have noticed where Hikaru had been staring earlier.
Hikaru made a show of glancing at his wristwatch. "Uh, let's see - nope, still says five till our agreed time. And what's with those giant glasses anyway?" And saying so, he reached over and stole them right off Touya's face.
Touya's suddenly exposed eyes flashed at him. "Shindo!" he said warningly. He reached to grab them back.
Hikaru grinned, unrepentant, and danced out of the way. "What?" He spun the stolen sunglasses in his hand. Strangely, he felt better, now that he could see the familiar way in which Touya was glaring at him. "Win a game against me, and I'll give it back. You can even go first," he offered generously.
Touya narrowed his eyes at him. Then he smiled. "So you're willing to bet on dinner?"
"E-eh?" Hikaru stared.
"Well," Touya tilted his head, "if I'm playing for my sunglasses, seems only fair that you play for something too. Unless," he showed his teeth, "you don't think you can win."
Hikaru sputtered in outrage. "Touya Akira," he finally swore, glaring, "I'll make you eat that smile."
"Promises, promises."
Hikaru blinked after Touya as the man sauntered into the restaurant.
Did Touya just...did he just make a pass at him?
"Come on, Shindo," Touya called out impatiently from the entrance. "I'm only here one day."
Hikaru shook his head firmly. Nah, it wasn't possible. Touya just didn't want to pay for dinner as well as lunch today. Thinking no more of it, he followed the other man into the restaurant.
The waitress seated them both at a low table in the corner, per Touya's request. Hikaru noted how the other man angled himself so that the wall was at his back and he had a clear view of the entrance. Hikaru said nothing about this though. Instead, he toed-off his sneakers and sat down on the raised platform of the booth; he distracted himself by arguing with Touya about which dish to order. The heated familiarity of their exchange relaxed the knot in Hikaru's stomach. However, once the order was placed and the waitress left, the argument trailed off and an awkward silence fell between them.
"So..."
"...Yeah."
They had never made polite conversation before. There had always been a go board between them, or else they had been so stirred up by something the other had done or said to care about being polite.
Touya spoke first. "You've been working hard." His voice was too quiet.
Hikaru manfully stopped himself from pulling at his tattered jacket. "Nothing to it," he lied. The last thing he needed was for Touya to offer him charity, which was very different from tricking him out of a few free meals. "The hours aren't even as long as when I was working for Jun, and the pay's better."
The other man looked like he didn't believed any of that, but only replied, "That's good."
"...yeah." Hikaru was grateful Touya was willing to go along and spare the pride he still had. "And you..." he trailed off, uncomfortable with discussing Touya's criminal enterprises. "You look well," he finished weakly.
Touya's face was very controlled. He was seated seiza-style at the other side of the low table, as formal as if at a tournament game. "That's fine, Shindo. I would prefer not to talk about that anyway." He nodded at the packed lunchtime crowd around them. "Especially here."
"Oh. Okay."
The silence fell again.
The waitress came by then and set before them two huge mugs of Asahi. Hikaru gulped down a portion of his draft beer, feeling anxious, and then had to remind himself not to drink too much on an empty stomach. Touya only sipped at his.
"So, uh," Hikaru began, trying to fill the awkward silence, "I've been enjoying Osaka so far. It's different...uh, you know."
Touya gave him that same smile Hikaru had seen him trot out for the waitress. It was polite and quietly attentive. He set down his beer mug and responded gamely, "No, tell me about it."
"Well, uh," Hikaru scrounged for something to say, "for one thing, the way people talk. I sound out of place." It felt wrong that the two of them should sit in front of each other like this, and speak of such utterly inconsequential things. "And I thought living in Tokyo was expensive! Boy, was I wrong. I keep getting overcharged for everything."
Still, anything was better than the silence. The silence roiled his gut, made him want to confess...something, secrets he didn't even have, to the man in front of him.
Hikaru pushed his own beer mug away. He forced a short laugh. "I guess I sound like a tourist."
"It'll pass," Touya replied. "You'll get a Kansai accent one day, since you plan to stay here."
"...yeah." Hikaru stared down at the table between them.
That damnable silence fell again.
Then, very quietly:
"Shindo."
That low voice got to him and, reluctantly, he raised his eyes from the tabletop. Touya stared at him from across the table, dark and all too serious. Hikaru felt his stomach tighten.
"I'm glad you're aiming for the pros again," Touya finally responded. He said nothing else.
Hikaru blinked. "Oh. Yeah." He didn't know what he'd expected the other man to say. But somehow, that wasn't it.
Feeling strangely disappointed, Hikaru looked away and aside at a far-off window. He could almost see the waters of the canal. He would have liked a table overlooking the waters. But Touya had been adamant about not sitting too close to a window. Like many things about Touya Akira now, Hikaru tried hard not to think too much about it.
The waitress arrived just then and set down on their table two plates of crab-miso on a half-shell. When Hikaru poked at the gray paste in the shell with his chopsticks and sampled it, he discovered it was roe. The rich, sea-salt taste reminded him why he had looked forward to dining here. Then he looked up across the table and found Touya ignoring his dish entirely. The other man was staring distantly at the same window Hikaru had been looking through. Involuntarily, Hikaru's fingers clenched briefly around his chopsticks.
"3-16!" he said impulsively.
Touya blinked and turned back to him, startled. "What?"
"It's blind go. Come on, Touya," he grinned desperately. It felt right, somehow, to have the other man's attention again; Hikaru tried hard not to think why. "We can get an early start on our game." Touya regarded him doubtfully. Hikaru's mind worked quickly. "Unless you don't think you can eat and play at the same time..."
As expected, the other man scowled. "The 16-4 star," he snapped, accepting the challenge.
"4-3," Hikaru replied to the hand, trying hard not to smirk. Heh, sometimes Touya was too easy.
The heated game of blind go proved an absolutely effective killer of all awkward and dangerous silences. Their first game was fast and furious - proceeding almost at the pace of a ten-second per hand game of speed go. By the time the next dish of sashimi crab had come and gone, leaving them only with the empty crockery, they had begun arguing over the stupidity of each other's moves in the end-of-game discussion. Touya had won by one-half moku, but what really burned Hikaru up was the way he stubbornly refused to acknowledge how soft he'd played at the upper left corner.
"No, no! That hand's no good." With the pen he'd borrowed from the waitress, Hikaru drew a circle forcefully on the paper napkin. "Going diagonal is much better, see?"
Touya snatched the napkin out of his hand. "That is the ugliest shape I've ever seen," he snapped. He jabbed at a spot on the hastily drawn grid with his chopsticks. "And if I attached here, you'd be crushed."
Hikaru glared. "Oh, yeah? Then you'd just fall into atari later when I do this!" And he snatched back the napkin, and slashed a line through the drawn grid. Touya scowled at him, clearly ready to tell Hikaru exactly what he thought of that, when he stiffened and looked sharply over Hikaru's head.
"Well, well."
Hikaru groaned and dropped the pen onto the table; hearing the familiar voice, he knew without turning who it was. The owner of the voice walked into his field of vision.
"Heya, Shindo," drawled Yashiro. He was carefully dressed; the spikes of his hair looked even more gelled than usual. "So this was your 'got work', huh?" Yashiro said dryly, glancing at the empty crab shells littering the table. "If this tourist food was what had distracted you these last few days," he said, "I could have taken you here."
Hikaru scowled even harder. He was intensely uncomfortable with Yashiro intruding on his meeting with Touya. "Lay off, will ya?" he growled, "I said I'll play you tomorrow -"
Touya interrupted him. "Shindo," he said, "please introduce your friend."
Surprised, Hikaru glanced over at Touya. The other man wasn't usually so sociable. But Hikaru couldn't tell what he was thinking; Touya only had that inscrutably polite smile on his face. Though he did look slightly flushed from the beer.
"Eh, w-well," he floundered. "Yashiro, Touya. Touya, Yashiro." He quickly pointed from one man to the other.
Hikaru saw Yashiro roll his eyes at him. "Dude." Yashiro stuck a hand out at Touya. "Name's Yashiro Kiyoharu. Good to see a friend of Shindo's - well," he amended, "anyone who isn't that damned Tsubaki."
Touya straightened halfway from his kneeling position, startling Hikaru. Ignoring the outstretched hand, he gave a brief bow from behind the table. "I'm Touya Akira."
Yashiro frowned, then shrugged and stuck the offered hand back in his pocket. He nodded at Touya, then turned to Hikaru. "Ya know," Yashiro addressed Hikaru, "you could've just told me you had an old friend in town."
Hikaru flushed. He resolutely did not look in Touya's direction. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" he demanded pointedly of the other man.
Yashiro seemed to have finally noticed Hikaru's tone. He frowned at Hikaru. "I was just sharing a drink with some college friends." And he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the doorway. Indeed, there was a crowd of young people milling at the exit. Yashiro continued to frown at Hikaru. Hikaru glared back. "I guess - huh, better get going."
"What's the hurry?"
It took Hikaru a moment to realize that was Touya speaking. When he did, he turned and stared at the utter blandness on Touya's face.
"You're a friend of Shindo's; I insist you join us." Hikaru narrowed his eyes at Touya. He had no idea where the other man was going with this. "Right, Shindo?"
Hikaru scowled, before he had to drop his eyes from Touya's implacable gaze. Geez, fine. He waved a hand towards Yashiro's direction. "Yeah, yeah. Sit down." Let Touya do what he wanted. Whatever that was.
Yashiro glanced uncertainly first at Hikaru, then at Touya. It was obvious he wanted to stay - probably thought it was a perfect chance to wheedle a game or two out of him, Hikaru thought uncharitably. Finally, seeming to come to a decision, Yashiro jammed his hands in his pockets, and jerked his head toward the empty dishes on their table. "Aren't you two almost finished?"
"Nah," Hikaru replied, cheering up slightly at the reminder of the upcoming food. "Still got the grilled crab, the tempura crab. Oh, and of course the dessert. I'd guess we'd still be here for an hour...at the very least." And then Hikaru grimaced, reminded sharply of exactly how much time that was if Yashiro joined them. And he wouldn't be able to spend the time playing blind go with Touya - not unless he was prepared to field even more uncomfortable questions from Yashiro.
"Shindo is right," Touya said to Yashiro. "There are still several courses left." And saying so, Touya gestured for their waitress, while simultaneously standing up and moving to Hikaru's side of the table.
Taken by surprise, Hikaru had to quickly scoot across the tatami to avoid breathing in Touya's hair. "Hey!" he bumped Touya's shoulder.
Touya ignored him and motioned for Yashiro to take his place. "I meant what I said," Touya told Yashiro, who now stared strangely at them both, "Please, join us at the table." Hikaru, feeling ornery, folded his arms across his chest and scowled, but said nothing.
Yashiro seemed to consider this for only a brief moment, before he shrugged and waved at the crowd at the doorway, obviously telling them to go on without him. Then he took the empty seat Touya had left for him.
"Hey, man," Yashiro nodded at Touya, "Thanks for including me."
Touya demurred politely, then added almost casually, "I believe that you and Shindo often play go together? I want an even game with you."
So this was what Touya Akira was up to.
Hikaru unfolded his arms and turned slightly on the seat to stare at the man now seated beside him. Touya Akira's eyes glittered in his otherwise smoothly bland mask. Hikaru was unnerved that Touya had already figured out Yashiro was the go partner he had spoken of on the phone. "Uh, Touya?" he queried uncertainly. Touya's unreadable eyes only flicked briefly towards Hikaru, before they fixed themselves back across the table.
"So." Hikaru turned to see Yashiro looking first at him then Touya. "You wanna play?" he said to Touya, skeptically. He jerked a thumb at himself, "I'm a pro you know."
Even knowing Touya could handle Yashiro himself, Hikaru felt himself bristling in the other man's defense. Yashiro was pulling out that pro card, just like he had when he had first met Hikaru. He hadn't liked it back then either. "Hey," he said sharply, half-rising in his seat, "Touya is -"
Touya interrupted him smoothly. "I understand you're a professional," he told Yashiro, not even looking at Hikaru this time, "and, of course, I'm willing to pay for the privilege of a game with you."
Yashiro raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged. "Great." He nodded at the dishes on the table between them. "So as soon as that's done, we'll find a salon."
Hikaru scowled and sank back into the seat cushion. This was certainly not how he imagined spending his Sunday, watching Touya Akira come all the way to Osaka just so he could pay to play Yashiro 7-dan. Well, whatever.
"Can we eat now?" Hikaru demanded gruffly.
Both men turned toward him.
"Oh. Of course," Touya said.
Yashiro shrugged. "Hey, man, dig in."
The waitress came by and set the next dish on the table.
"So, Yashiro-pro," Touya began, picking up a piece of tempura, "what do you think are the chances this year for a Kansai Institute player to hold a title?"
Hikaru ignored the start of Touya's interrogation of an unsuspecting Yashiro, and instead focused on the newly arrived dish of crab-tempura. The new seating arrangement had put Touya face to face with Yashiro, who now sat across from him at the table. Hikaru, crowded against Touya's side in the tiny booth, found himself having to lean against Touya in order to grab the food. He forced himself to ignore the way Touya shifted minutely beneath him, every time he brushed up against his side. It was Touya's fault, that they were now crowded together in such a small space. Let him move, Hikaru decided sullenly, if he was uncomfortable. But Touya never moved even a centimeter to put more space between them.
"So, uh, Shindo, I was just asking Touya-san here how you two knew each other."
At the sound of his name, Hikaru finally looked up from his plate. Yashiro was glancing between him and Touya with a tiny crease between his brows.
"Yeah?" Hikaru looked quickly at Touya, but the neutral expression on other man's face told him nothing. He hadn't been paying attention to the conversation between Yashiro and Touya; Hikaru wondered what Touya had been saying.
Touya cleared his throat. "Yes, I was just telling Yashiro-san how you sometimes played go with me, before you left Tokyo."
"Oh, right. Right." Hikaru picked up another piece of tempura and stuffed it into his mouth so that he wouldn't have to speak. It sounded like Touya didn't want to get into their actual convoluted history with Yashiro. Of which Hikaru was glad. The sooner Touya got to play that game with Yashiro, the better. Hikaru figured he'd help by keeping quiet and not ruining whatever story Touya was concocting.
"So, huh, a...go aficionado, huh?" Yashiro remarked. Hikaru frowned and looked up at the strong pause before Yashiro said, 'go aficionado'. He glanced over at Touya to see if he'd noticed, but couldn't read anything in Touya's polite expression. Yashiro's, however, was obvious - for some reason, he looked slightly flushed. But that could just be the beer. "You meet up often with Shindo?" This last question he almost demanded of Touya, who only smiled slightly.
"No, not often. After all, we're both busy men, Yashiro-san," Touya replied blandly.
Hikaru felt like he was missing out on an entire conversation. "Hey," he interjected, not knowing exactly why, but feeling the need to say something, "Touya's not an aficionado. He's a really good player."
At that, Yashiro raised both eyebrows. Looking at Touya directly from across the table, Yashiro jerked a thumb at Hikaru. "You play like Shindo does?" he frowned.
Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Geez, of -"
"Of course not," Touya interrupted sharply.
Hikaru closed his mouth and stared at the other man, but, well, Touya's reply was true...in a sense. Of course Touya didn't play like Hikaru himself did - Touya had a style that was all his own. But that wasn't what Yashiro had been asking. Hikaru wondered what Touya was trying to accomplish -
Suddenly, he scowled. "Hey you," he grabbed Touya by the arm and continued in a low voice, "let's talk." To Yashiro, he told, "Have dessert. We'll be right back." And he got out of the booth and dragged Touya all the way with him to the men's room.
Luckily, the stalls were all empty, and the one man who had been at the urinal finished his business and scurried out of the door when Hikaru burst in, hauling Touya behind him.
Touya finally found his voice. He tried to tug his arm out of Hikaru's grasp. "Shindo! What -"
"Shut. Up." With a hand on Touya's sternum, Hikaru pushed the other man hard against the door of the men's room, barricading themselves in. "What the hell are you playing at?"
Touya raised his chin, his nostrils flaring. "What does that mean?" he demanded.
"You've been toying with Yashiro the moment you saw him. Why."
Touya stared at him, lips pressed tight.
Hikaru glared back, undeterred. "You wanna know what I think?" he said, and then continued without waiting, "I think whatever you've been mired in these past few years - and I really don't wanna know - has turned you into a territorial asshole." He took his hand away from Touya's chest, and folded his arms. "Am I right?"
Touya narrowed his eyes. "He's only in one of the title leagues."
"So, what?" Hikaru spread his hands out before him, impatient. Geez, was Touya saying Yashiro wasn't good enough for him? "So he's had a few rough years. What - like you don't know anything about that?"
Touya stepped toward him so quickly, Hikaru backed up a step.
"A few rough years," Touya whispered. "Is that what I've been through?"
Hikaru felt his stomach tighten. Okay, so maybe comparing Touya to Yashiro hadn't been a smart idea. This close, he could see how the blackness of Touya's pupils nearly swallowed his iris. He swallowed. Still, one thing needed to be clear.
He raised his hands between himself and Touya. "I just - whatever you're doing," he said roughly, "just stop. Have that match against Yashiro, if you want. But," he continued firmly, "no matter the outcome, when you leave Osaka in a few hours, he's the one I'll be playing regularly against." Hikaru paused, then added quietly, "I'm not going back to Tokyo."
And without waiting for an answer, he pushed past Touya to leave. He reached for the door handle just as a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him around.
In that split second of confusion, Hikaru tensed, ready for a punch to the jaw - and prepared to give as good as he got - when instead Touya grabbed him by the back of the neck and mashed his mouth into his. The collision thumped Hikaru's head against the wall, barely cushioned by Touya's hand. His teeth scraped across Touya's lips, cutting it open, and the coppery tang of blood flooded his mouth. It covered the first, bitter taste of beer from Touya's lips - the quick stutter beat of Hikaru's heart nearly deafened his ears.
Hikaru was frozen. Wha -
"- the hell."
Yashiro stared at them from the entrance of the men's room. The door had been left unobstructed when Touya had yanked Hikaru back and pushed him up against the wall. Touya had broken away from him at Yashiro's sudden expletive; his fingers tightened briefly on Hikaru's neck, before they let go. Hikaru, at the sudden loss of support, staggered back into the wall - dazed. He barely processed the look on Touya's face - a vicious blend of anger and pain - before Touya spun around to face Yashiro.
Yashiro had already begun to back towards the door. "So, uh, wow - I'll just..." He jerked his head towards the exit. "...I'll just go -"
"That even match -" Touya's low, dangerous voice stopped Yashiro's foot on the threshold. "We'll play it now." It was not a request.
Yashiro stared. "Uh..." He blinked, and looked at the empty men's room.
"We don't need a board."
His words clearly startled an already flabbergasted Yashiro. "You want to play blind go? Here?" Touya didn't even deign to answer. Yashiro coughed. "Uh, you know, blind go is tough. Even for pros."
Touya's eyes glittered dangerously at the 7-dan. He didn't look at Hikaru.
"For the Ouza title - all you have to do is win, isn't that what you said?" His voice was cutting; Yashiro flinched and then scowled. Touya never took his eyes from the 7-dan. "Then don't lose to an amateur." His voice dropped even lower, "Call the first move."
Hikaru, still slumped against the wall for support, could taste Touya's blood in his mouth. Not quite believing it, he watched Touya Akira call Yashiro out for the challenge.
Yashiro, roused by Touya's implacable demand, didn't refuse. With narrowed eyes, he named his starting move at an unexpected 3-3. Touya answered the unexpected hand almost instantly.
Yashiro was brilliant and aggressive; from the beginning, he pushed for the offensive at each maneuver - but Touya.
Touya Akira was a monster.
It was no contest. But then Hikaru had already known that.
Yashiro Kiyoharu, 7-dan, overconfident and unused to playing without a board, didn't stand a chance. It didn't take long to for him to lose his cockiness beneath Touya Akira's aggression as Touya brutally took control of the flow of the game. Yashiro's voice began to falter.
In his mind, Hikaru saw Touya's pieces sweep across the board like an inexorable tide.
It was with a nerve-blasted shock, written in a white, drawn face, that Yashiro Kiyoharu finally croaked: "I - I have nothing."
For a moment Touya said nothing. He looked almost startled out of a trance. He had stood ramrod straight as he called out point after point, his voice stringently even, hands clenched at his sides. Now, the abrupt cessation of the demand seemed to put him at a loss. Then he blinked, and for the first time in half-an-hour seemed to actually see the pro who now slumped beside the door in incredulous defeat.
"Thank you for the game." Touya's bow was so brief as to be insulting; the Kansai 7-dan hadn't even managed to hold on to the end game. Only then did Touya turn to look at Hikaru. Hikaru stared back at him.
Touya finally seemed to notice where he had barricaded themselves in for the past half-hour. And, depreciatively, he smiled. "How embarrassing," he only said, as if mocking himself. And then without saying one word more, he pushed past Yashiro and walked out. The door swung close behind him. There was a brief, stunned moment of silence between the two people left behind in the men's room of the Kani Doraku Crab. Then it broke.
"Who the hell are you people?" Yashiro yelled.
Hikaru, trembling, wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. A streak of blood came away on his fingers. There had been nothing gentle in that - that - ...his mind shied away from the word. Hikaru's eyes remained fixed on the door through which he had disappeared. "He's Touya," he muttered.
What else, Hikaru did not know.
* * *
"Well, well. Looks like she wasn't kidding."
They watched the man - mid-twenties, Japanese, medium-height, hair in a loose ponytail - walk out of the restaurant.
"Are you sure that's him? Looks like a cream-puff."
A black Mercedes peeled out of the traffic and up to the curb. It's driver came out and hurried around the car to open the passenger-side door. The man got in. Then, a moment later, the car merged back into the traffic.
"No mistake. Saw him after his old man's funeral. Damn." He stubbed his cigarette in the car's ashtray. "Never thought the boy had it in him."
His partner shrugged. "Guess it's in the blood." His cell-phone rang then, and he thumbed it open. "Yes?" Silence as he listened, before hanging up. "That was Tokyo headquarters. Ohba's dead." He smiled dryly. "Death certificate says brain hemorrhage from a stroke."
The other man snorted derisively from beside him, eyes still fixed on the front of the restaurant. "Ye good, old medical establishment."
In the driver's seat of the idling car, Detective Ichiro shrugged. "Bullet to the brain, brain hemorrhage - what's the difference? All we need to know is that the Touya-gumi is moving up." Then he frowned. "But just what is that woman thinking?"
"Internal fissures," Detective Godo said simply; he had been just as dubious when he'd received the tip-off, but since then, he'd given it some thought. She was an ambitious woman, after all. "Bad for the Sumiyoshi, great for us. - Here he comes."
Another young man, also in his mid-twenties, Japanese, medium height, muscled. He didn't look as well off as the yakuza boss he'd met with did - in fact, he looked decidedly scruffy. His features, however, were surprisingly delicate. The man took a moment to look around the bustling street.
Godo moved the back of his seat down, until he was in a reclining position and out of sight. "Shindo Hikaru. The tip checked out: he did have contacts with the Korean community while in Tokyo. Possibly, even a drug connection. But not enough to bring him in."
Shielded behind his newspaper, Ichiro raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't look too happy. Think the deal's off?"
Eyes on the car ceiling, Godo snorted. "Guys like these are cannon fodder. If he doesn't work out, Touya will find someone else."
"Well, then, looks like Touya junior is following old Kouyo's footsteps, and going international."
Godo scowled. "The new breed of yakuza is getting smarter. But underneath, they're still just thugs."
The Touya-gumi's newest delegate to Korea finally stopped looking around and started down the street.
Godo pulled his seat back to an upright position. "They're a blight on Japanese law enforcement," he growled.
Ichiro smiled, and put aside the paper. "Well, I'm just another civil servant, looking for a promotion."
Their unmarked car pulled out and merged into the oncoming traffic.
* * *
end of Spring
* * *
continued in Summer
Index
Author: corbeaun
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go belongs to Obata Takeshi and Hotta Yumi.
Summary: In which Akira has issues with Yashiro...and let's everyone know it. And part of Icchan's scheme is revealed.
Thank you therhoda, for telling me to write the last section. :)
Spring
Part 4
* * *
"Dude, what's gotten into you?"
Hikaru looked up to see Yashiro staring at him disgruntled. Yashiro scowled pointedly at the board between them. Hikaru looked back down and realized he'd just inadvertently killed his own cluster in the upper rightmost corner. He winced, and put a hand sheepishly to the back of his head. "Eh, sorry. If you want," Hikaru offered reluctantly, "I'll stay for an extra game."
He was loath to, though, since it was already late and he still needed to get up at dawn the next morning. He'd pressed the foreman for a heavier workload: a professional tournament applicable to amateurs was coming up and he wouldn't be able to work for money then. And of course, there was the upcoming insei exam. In consequence, lately, sleep held more appeal than go with Yashiro.
Yashiro heaved a sigh, and shoved a hand through his spiked hair. He sat back in the go salon's chair. "It's not just this one game. You've been this way this whole freaking week."
Tired and pressed, Hikaru felt himself getting irritated. Touya, he was suddenly reminded, was coming in two days. "Look, college-boy," he snapped, "I've got other things going on."
Yashiro's eyes narrowed at the dig, but he did not immediately respond to the implied criticism. Instead, he began sweeping his stones back into their container, clearing the game midway. "You were the one who talked about nothing getting in the way of the game," he retorted.
Hikaru scowled guiltily. His focus had been completely shot for the past few days; he knew Yashiro must have been frustrated - it was a minor miracle that the other man hadn't complained before now. Still, even knowing this did not make it easy for him to reign in his temper. "My concentration's off," he conceded grudgingly. "But I'll be kicking your ass again across the goban before you know it," he promised.
For a moment, the other man stopped sorting the stones. Then he smirked. He put away the last of his stones and firmly closed the container lid. "How about a rematch, this Sunday?" he challenged.
"Can't." Hikaru swept the remaining stones on the board into his own container.
Yashiro's smirk faded. "Why? You scared?"
Hikaru glared at the man. He was really getting on Hikaru's nerves today. "Got work," he replied shortly. The very last thing he wanted to explain to Yashiro was Touya Akira. Hikaru felt a headache coming just thinking about it.
Yashiro's eyes narrowed. "The whole day?" he said, suspicious. Unfortunately, the other man knew Hikaru's schedule: the day after tomorrow was Sunday, the one day in the week that Hikaru had off. Usually, Hikaru was more than glad to spend that entire day at Yoshikawa-sensei's go salon
"Just like I said," Hikaru repeated firmly, "Work." He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. "See you next week."
He left Yashiro scowling behind him.
Lately, the other man had been demanding more and more of his time. Whenever Hikaru visited Yoshikawa-sensei's go salon lately, Yashiro was there, waiting for him. It made Hikaru a little uncomfortable.
Yashiro had never given Hikaru a reply to that question on why he played go, but it seemed that something had lit a fire under him. And it wasn't just his recent inability to concentrate that let Yashiro control the flow of stones on the goban. Not too long ago, Yashiro's mentor had approached Hikaru and solemnly thanked him for helping Yashiro's long-awaited rise to 7-dan. Hikaru had dismissed the thanks; he had done nothing really. All Yashiro had needed was a reminder of why he was a pro in the first place. Hikaru reminded himself every time he touched the old go stone in his pocket - he only wished Yashiro would stop using him as his personal go memento.
Which made his recent inability to concentrate on the board all the more frustrating.
Back in the company dormitory, Hikaru sat down heavily on his bunk bed. It was late enough that even the card players had dispersed and gone to sleep. In the darkness, Tsubaki's familiar, rumbling snores sounded from one of the nearby beds. Toeing off his sneakers, Hikaru climbed into his own bed fully dressed; it meant less time to get ready in the morning. With the discipline of long practice, as soon as his head hit his pillow-cum-backpack, Hikaru fell asleep.
The next day passed more quickly than expected. The foreman had made good on his promise to give Hikaru more work; it meant sore shoulders and aching muscles at night, but it also meant more money to pay for participation in the Samsung Cup preliminaries. Airline tickets and enrollment fees weren't cheap. But the heavier workload didn't lessen the work's deadening monotony.
By the time Sunday morning rolled around, Hikaru was looking forward to it. Even if seeing Touya might mess up his life again.
"After all," he comforted himself as he walked down the Dotonbori street to the agreed meeting place, "everything worked out alright last time."
As he had expected, Touya was early. Hikaru noticed him instantly through the mid-morning crowd.
He was standing out of the sun, under the awning, just off to the side of a couple of tourists who were busily snapping photos of themselves under the restaurant's giant mechanical crab. Touya stood a polite distance away, just enough so that he wouldn't be caught in any of the shots. His hair had been pulled back, and dark sunglasses hid half his face. He had also forgone his usual tie-and-suit combination for a more causal look of jeans and turtleneck.
Stopping under the same awning not too far away, Hikaru eyed the jeans warily; they looked suspiciously like they'd been ironed. It also looked like Touya was a decade off from the current fashion - those jeans were much too tight.
Then Touya turned around.
Hikaru looked up quickly, abruptly realizing he had been staring at another man's ass. "T-Touya!" he said loudly. He hoped the heat rising in his face wasn't too apparent.
But the other man only replied, "You're late." The sunglasses didn't let Hikaru see his expression, but he didn't sound too upset. Touya didn't seem to have noticed where Hikaru had been staring earlier.
Hikaru made a show of glancing at his wristwatch. "Uh, let's see - nope, still says five till our agreed time. And what's with those giant glasses anyway?" And saying so, he reached over and stole them right off Touya's face.
Touya's suddenly exposed eyes flashed at him. "Shindo!" he said warningly. He reached to grab them back.
Hikaru grinned, unrepentant, and danced out of the way. "What?" He spun the stolen sunglasses in his hand. Strangely, he felt better, now that he could see the familiar way in which Touya was glaring at him. "Win a game against me, and I'll give it back. You can even go first," he offered generously.
Touya narrowed his eyes at him. Then he smiled. "So you're willing to bet on dinner?"
"E-eh?" Hikaru stared.
"Well," Touya tilted his head, "if I'm playing for my sunglasses, seems only fair that you play for something too. Unless," he showed his teeth, "you don't think you can win."
Hikaru sputtered in outrage. "Touya Akira," he finally swore, glaring, "I'll make you eat that smile."
"Promises, promises."
Hikaru blinked after Touya as the man sauntered into the restaurant.
Did Touya just...did he just make a pass at him?
"Come on, Shindo," Touya called out impatiently from the entrance. "I'm only here one day."
Hikaru shook his head firmly. Nah, it wasn't possible. Touya just didn't want to pay for dinner as well as lunch today. Thinking no more of it, he followed the other man into the restaurant.
The waitress seated them both at a low table in the corner, per Touya's request. Hikaru noted how the other man angled himself so that the wall was at his back and he had a clear view of the entrance. Hikaru said nothing about this though. Instead, he toed-off his sneakers and sat down on the raised platform of the booth; he distracted himself by arguing with Touya about which dish to order. The heated familiarity of their exchange relaxed the knot in Hikaru's stomach. However, once the order was placed and the waitress left, the argument trailed off and an awkward silence fell between them.
"So..."
"...Yeah."
They had never made polite conversation before. There had always been a go board between them, or else they had been so stirred up by something the other had done or said to care about being polite.
Touya spoke first. "You've been working hard." His voice was too quiet.
Hikaru manfully stopped himself from pulling at his tattered jacket. "Nothing to it," he lied. The last thing he needed was for Touya to offer him charity, which was very different from tricking him out of a few free meals. "The hours aren't even as long as when I was working for Jun, and the pay's better."
The other man looked like he didn't believed any of that, but only replied, "That's good."
"...yeah." Hikaru was grateful Touya was willing to go along and spare the pride he still had. "And you..." he trailed off, uncomfortable with discussing Touya's criminal enterprises. "You look well," he finished weakly.
Touya's face was very controlled. He was seated seiza-style at the other side of the low table, as formal as if at a tournament game. "That's fine, Shindo. I would prefer not to talk about that anyway." He nodded at the packed lunchtime crowd around them. "Especially here."
"Oh. Okay."
The silence fell again.
The waitress came by then and set before them two huge mugs of Asahi. Hikaru gulped down a portion of his draft beer, feeling anxious, and then had to remind himself not to drink too much on an empty stomach. Touya only sipped at his.
"So, uh," Hikaru began, trying to fill the awkward silence, "I've been enjoying Osaka so far. It's different...uh, you know."
Touya gave him that same smile Hikaru had seen him trot out for the waitress. It was polite and quietly attentive. He set down his beer mug and responded gamely, "No, tell me about it."
"Well, uh," Hikaru scrounged for something to say, "for one thing, the way people talk. I sound out of place." It felt wrong that the two of them should sit in front of each other like this, and speak of such utterly inconsequential things. "And I thought living in Tokyo was expensive! Boy, was I wrong. I keep getting overcharged for everything."
Still, anything was better than the silence. The silence roiled his gut, made him want to confess...something, secrets he didn't even have, to the man in front of him.
Hikaru pushed his own beer mug away. He forced a short laugh. "I guess I sound like a tourist."
"It'll pass," Touya replied. "You'll get a Kansai accent one day, since you plan to stay here."
"...yeah." Hikaru stared down at the table between them.
That damnable silence fell again.
Then, very quietly:
"Shindo."
That low voice got to him and, reluctantly, he raised his eyes from the tabletop. Touya stared at him from across the table, dark and all too serious. Hikaru felt his stomach tighten.
"I'm glad you're aiming for the pros again," Touya finally responded. He said nothing else.
Hikaru blinked. "Oh. Yeah." He didn't know what he'd expected the other man to say. But somehow, that wasn't it.
Feeling strangely disappointed, Hikaru looked away and aside at a far-off window. He could almost see the waters of the canal. He would have liked a table overlooking the waters. But Touya had been adamant about not sitting too close to a window. Like many things about Touya Akira now, Hikaru tried hard not to think too much about it.
The waitress arrived just then and set down on their table two plates of crab-miso on a half-shell. When Hikaru poked at the gray paste in the shell with his chopsticks and sampled it, he discovered it was roe. The rich, sea-salt taste reminded him why he had looked forward to dining here. Then he looked up across the table and found Touya ignoring his dish entirely. The other man was staring distantly at the same window Hikaru had been looking through. Involuntarily, Hikaru's fingers clenched briefly around his chopsticks.
"3-16!" he said impulsively.
Touya blinked and turned back to him, startled. "What?"
"It's blind go. Come on, Touya," he grinned desperately. It felt right, somehow, to have the other man's attention again; Hikaru tried hard not to think why. "We can get an early start on our game." Touya regarded him doubtfully. Hikaru's mind worked quickly. "Unless you don't think you can eat and play at the same time..."
As expected, the other man scowled. "The 16-4 star," he snapped, accepting the challenge.
"4-3," Hikaru replied to the hand, trying hard not to smirk. Heh, sometimes Touya was too easy.
The heated game of blind go proved an absolutely effective killer of all awkward and dangerous silences. Their first game was fast and furious - proceeding almost at the pace of a ten-second per hand game of speed go. By the time the next dish of sashimi crab had come and gone, leaving them only with the empty crockery, they had begun arguing over the stupidity of each other's moves in the end-of-game discussion. Touya had won by one-half moku, but what really burned Hikaru up was the way he stubbornly refused to acknowledge how soft he'd played at the upper left corner.
"No, no! That hand's no good." With the pen he'd borrowed from the waitress, Hikaru drew a circle forcefully on the paper napkin. "Going diagonal is much better, see?"
Touya snatched the napkin out of his hand. "That is the ugliest shape I've ever seen," he snapped. He jabbed at a spot on the hastily drawn grid with his chopsticks. "And if I attached here, you'd be crushed."
Hikaru glared. "Oh, yeah? Then you'd just fall into atari later when I do this!" And he snatched back the napkin, and slashed a line through the drawn grid. Touya scowled at him, clearly ready to tell Hikaru exactly what he thought of that, when he stiffened and looked sharply over Hikaru's head.
"Well, well."
Hikaru groaned and dropped the pen onto the table; hearing the familiar voice, he knew without turning who it was. The owner of the voice walked into his field of vision.
"Heya, Shindo," drawled Yashiro. He was carefully dressed; the spikes of his hair looked even more gelled than usual. "So this was your 'got work', huh?" Yashiro said dryly, glancing at the empty crab shells littering the table. "If this tourist food was what had distracted you these last few days," he said, "I could have taken you here."
Hikaru scowled even harder. He was intensely uncomfortable with Yashiro intruding on his meeting with Touya. "Lay off, will ya?" he growled, "I said I'll play you tomorrow -"
Touya interrupted him. "Shindo," he said, "please introduce your friend."
Surprised, Hikaru glanced over at Touya. The other man wasn't usually so sociable. But Hikaru couldn't tell what he was thinking; Touya only had that inscrutably polite smile on his face. Though he did look slightly flushed from the beer.
"Eh, w-well," he floundered. "Yashiro, Touya. Touya, Yashiro." He quickly pointed from one man to the other.
Hikaru saw Yashiro roll his eyes at him. "Dude." Yashiro stuck a hand out at Touya. "Name's Yashiro Kiyoharu. Good to see a friend of Shindo's - well," he amended, "anyone who isn't that damned Tsubaki."
Touya straightened halfway from his kneeling position, startling Hikaru. Ignoring the outstretched hand, he gave a brief bow from behind the table. "I'm Touya Akira."
Yashiro frowned, then shrugged and stuck the offered hand back in his pocket. He nodded at Touya, then turned to Hikaru. "Ya know," Yashiro addressed Hikaru, "you could've just told me you had an old friend in town."
Hikaru flushed. He resolutely did not look in Touya's direction. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" he demanded pointedly of the other man.
Yashiro seemed to have finally noticed Hikaru's tone. He frowned at Hikaru. "I was just sharing a drink with some college friends." And he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the doorway. Indeed, there was a crowd of young people milling at the exit. Yashiro continued to frown at Hikaru. Hikaru glared back. "I guess - huh, better get going."
"What's the hurry?"
It took Hikaru a moment to realize that was Touya speaking. When he did, he turned and stared at the utter blandness on Touya's face.
"You're a friend of Shindo's; I insist you join us." Hikaru narrowed his eyes at Touya. He had no idea where the other man was going with this. "Right, Shindo?"
Hikaru scowled, before he had to drop his eyes from Touya's implacable gaze. Geez, fine. He waved a hand towards Yashiro's direction. "Yeah, yeah. Sit down." Let Touya do what he wanted. Whatever that was.
Yashiro glanced uncertainly first at Hikaru, then at Touya. It was obvious he wanted to stay - probably thought it was a perfect chance to wheedle a game or two out of him, Hikaru thought uncharitably. Finally, seeming to come to a decision, Yashiro jammed his hands in his pockets, and jerked his head toward the empty dishes on their table. "Aren't you two almost finished?"
"Nah," Hikaru replied, cheering up slightly at the reminder of the upcoming food. "Still got the grilled crab, the tempura crab. Oh, and of course the dessert. I'd guess we'd still be here for an hour...at the very least." And then Hikaru grimaced, reminded sharply of exactly how much time that was if Yashiro joined them. And he wouldn't be able to spend the time playing blind go with Touya - not unless he was prepared to field even more uncomfortable questions from Yashiro.
"Shindo is right," Touya said to Yashiro. "There are still several courses left." And saying so, Touya gestured for their waitress, while simultaneously standing up and moving to Hikaru's side of the table.
Taken by surprise, Hikaru had to quickly scoot across the tatami to avoid breathing in Touya's hair. "Hey!" he bumped Touya's shoulder.
Touya ignored him and motioned for Yashiro to take his place. "I meant what I said," Touya told Yashiro, who now stared strangely at them both, "Please, join us at the table." Hikaru, feeling ornery, folded his arms across his chest and scowled, but said nothing.
Yashiro seemed to consider this for only a brief moment, before he shrugged and waved at the crowd at the doorway, obviously telling them to go on without him. Then he took the empty seat Touya had left for him.
"Hey, man," Yashiro nodded at Touya, "Thanks for including me."
Touya demurred politely, then added almost casually, "I believe that you and Shindo often play go together? I want an even game with you."
So this was what Touya Akira was up to.
Hikaru unfolded his arms and turned slightly on the seat to stare at the man now seated beside him. Touya Akira's eyes glittered in his otherwise smoothly bland mask. Hikaru was unnerved that Touya had already figured out Yashiro was the go partner he had spoken of on the phone. "Uh, Touya?" he queried uncertainly. Touya's unreadable eyes only flicked briefly towards Hikaru, before they fixed themselves back across the table.
"So." Hikaru turned to see Yashiro looking first at him then Touya. "You wanna play?" he said to Touya, skeptically. He jerked a thumb at himself, "I'm a pro you know."
Even knowing Touya could handle Yashiro himself, Hikaru felt himself bristling in the other man's defense. Yashiro was pulling out that pro card, just like he had when he had first met Hikaru. He hadn't liked it back then either. "Hey," he said sharply, half-rising in his seat, "Touya is -"
Touya interrupted him smoothly. "I understand you're a professional," he told Yashiro, not even looking at Hikaru this time, "and, of course, I'm willing to pay for the privilege of a game with you."
Yashiro raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged. "Great." He nodded at the dishes on the table between them. "So as soon as that's done, we'll find a salon."
Hikaru scowled and sank back into the seat cushion. This was certainly not how he imagined spending his Sunday, watching Touya Akira come all the way to Osaka just so he could pay to play Yashiro 7-dan. Well, whatever.
"Can we eat now?" Hikaru demanded gruffly.
Both men turned toward him.
"Oh. Of course," Touya said.
Yashiro shrugged. "Hey, man, dig in."
The waitress came by and set the next dish on the table.
"So, Yashiro-pro," Touya began, picking up a piece of tempura, "what do you think are the chances this year for a Kansai Institute player to hold a title?"
Hikaru ignored the start of Touya's interrogation of an unsuspecting Yashiro, and instead focused on the newly arrived dish of crab-tempura. The new seating arrangement had put Touya face to face with Yashiro, who now sat across from him at the table. Hikaru, crowded against Touya's side in the tiny booth, found himself having to lean against Touya in order to grab the food. He forced himself to ignore the way Touya shifted minutely beneath him, every time he brushed up against his side. It was Touya's fault, that they were now crowded together in such a small space. Let him move, Hikaru decided sullenly, if he was uncomfortable. But Touya never moved even a centimeter to put more space between them.
"So, uh, Shindo, I was just asking Touya-san here how you two knew each other."
At the sound of his name, Hikaru finally looked up from his plate. Yashiro was glancing between him and Touya with a tiny crease between his brows.
"Yeah?" Hikaru looked quickly at Touya, but the neutral expression on other man's face told him nothing. He hadn't been paying attention to the conversation between Yashiro and Touya; Hikaru wondered what Touya had been saying.
Touya cleared his throat. "Yes, I was just telling Yashiro-san how you sometimes played go with me, before you left Tokyo."
"Oh, right. Right." Hikaru picked up another piece of tempura and stuffed it into his mouth so that he wouldn't have to speak. It sounded like Touya didn't want to get into their actual convoluted history with Yashiro. Of which Hikaru was glad. The sooner Touya got to play that game with Yashiro, the better. Hikaru figured he'd help by keeping quiet and not ruining whatever story Touya was concocting.
"So, huh, a...go aficionado, huh?" Yashiro remarked. Hikaru frowned and looked up at the strong pause before Yashiro said, 'go aficionado'. He glanced over at Touya to see if he'd noticed, but couldn't read anything in Touya's polite expression. Yashiro's, however, was obvious - for some reason, he looked slightly flushed. But that could just be the beer. "You meet up often with Shindo?" This last question he almost demanded of Touya, who only smiled slightly.
"No, not often. After all, we're both busy men, Yashiro-san," Touya replied blandly.
Hikaru felt like he was missing out on an entire conversation. "Hey," he interjected, not knowing exactly why, but feeling the need to say something, "Touya's not an aficionado. He's a really good player."
At that, Yashiro raised both eyebrows. Looking at Touya directly from across the table, Yashiro jerked a thumb at Hikaru. "You play like Shindo does?" he frowned.
Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Geez, of -"
"Of course not," Touya interrupted sharply.
Hikaru closed his mouth and stared at the other man, but, well, Touya's reply was true...in a sense. Of course Touya didn't play like Hikaru himself did - Touya had a style that was all his own. But that wasn't what Yashiro had been asking. Hikaru wondered what Touya was trying to accomplish -
Suddenly, he scowled. "Hey you," he grabbed Touya by the arm and continued in a low voice, "let's talk." To Yashiro, he told, "Have dessert. We'll be right back." And he got out of the booth and dragged Touya all the way with him to the men's room.
Luckily, the stalls were all empty, and the one man who had been at the urinal finished his business and scurried out of the door when Hikaru burst in, hauling Touya behind him.
Touya finally found his voice. He tried to tug his arm out of Hikaru's grasp. "Shindo! What -"
"Shut. Up." With a hand on Touya's sternum, Hikaru pushed the other man hard against the door of the men's room, barricading themselves in. "What the hell are you playing at?"
Touya raised his chin, his nostrils flaring. "What does that mean?" he demanded.
"You've been toying with Yashiro the moment you saw him. Why."
Touya stared at him, lips pressed tight.
Hikaru glared back, undeterred. "You wanna know what I think?" he said, and then continued without waiting, "I think whatever you've been mired in these past few years - and I really don't wanna know - has turned you into a territorial asshole." He took his hand away from Touya's chest, and folded his arms. "Am I right?"
Touya narrowed his eyes. "He's only in one of the title leagues."
"So, what?" Hikaru spread his hands out before him, impatient. Geez, was Touya saying Yashiro wasn't good enough for him? "So he's had a few rough years. What - like you don't know anything about that?"
Touya stepped toward him so quickly, Hikaru backed up a step.
"A few rough years," Touya whispered. "Is that what I've been through?"
Hikaru felt his stomach tighten. Okay, so maybe comparing Touya to Yashiro hadn't been a smart idea. This close, he could see how the blackness of Touya's pupils nearly swallowed his iris. He swallowed. Still, one thing needed to be clear.
He raised his hands between himself and Touya. "I just - whatever you're doing," he said roughly, "just stop. Have that match against Yashiro, if you want. But," he continued firmly, "no matter the outcome, when you leave Osaka in a few hours, he's the one I'll be playing regularly against." Hikaru paused, then added quietly, "I'm not going back to Tokyo."
And without waiting for an answer, he pushed past Touya to leave. He reached for the door handle just as a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him around.
In that split second of confusion, Hikaru tensed, ready for a punch to the jaw - and prepared to give as good as he got - when instead Touya grabbed him by the back of the neck and mashed his mouth into his. The collision thumped Hikaru's head against the wall, barely cushioned by Touya's hand. His teeth scraped across Touya's lips, cutting it open, and the coppery tang of blood flooded his mouth. It covered the first, bitter taste of beer from Touya's lips - the quick stutter beat of Hikaru's heart nearly deafened his ears.
Hikaru was frozen. Wha -
"- the hell."
Yashiro stared at them from the entrance of the men's room. The door had been left unobstructed when Touya had yanked Hikaru back and pushed him up against the wall. Touya had broken away from him at Yashiro's sudden expletive; his fingers tightened briefly on Hikaru's neck, before they let go. Hikaru, at the sudden loss of support, staggered back into the wall - dazed. He barely processed the look on Touya's face - a vicious blend of anger and pain - before Touya spun around to face Yashiro.
Yashiro had already begun to back towards the door. "So, uh, wow - I'll just..." He jerked his head towards the exit. "...I'll just go -"
"That even match -" Touya's low, dangerous voice stopped Yashiro's foot on the threshold. "We'll play it now." It was not a request.
Yashiro stared. "Uh..." He blinked, and looked at the empty men's room.
"We don't need a board."
His words clearly startled an already flabbergasted Yashiro. "You want to play blind go? Here?" Touya didn't even deign to answer. Yashiro coughed. "Uh, you know, blind go is tough. Even for pros."
Touya's eyes glittered dangerously at the 7-dan. He didn't look at Hikaru.
"For the Ouza title - all you have to do is win, isn't that what you said?" His voice was cutting; Yashiro flinched and then scowled. Touya never took his eyes from the 7-dan. "Then don't lose to an amateur." His voice dropped even lower, "Call the first move."
Hikaru, still slumped against the wall for support, could taste Touya's blood in his mouth. Not quite believing it, he watched Touya Akira call Yashiro out for the challenge.
Yashiro, roused by Touya's implacable demand, didn't refuse. With narrowed eyes, he named his starting move at an unexpected 3-3. Touya answered the unexpected hand almost instantly.
Yashiro was brilliant and aggressive; from the beginning, he pushed for the offensive at each maneuver - but Touya.
Touya Akira was a monster.
It was no contest. But then Hikaru had already known that.
Yashiro Kiyoharu, 7-dan, overconfident and unused to playing without a board, didn't stand a chance. It didn't take long to for him to lose his cockiness beneath Touya Akira's aggression as Touya brutally took control of the flow of the game. Yashiro's voice began to falter.
In his mind, Hikaru saw Touya's pieces sweep across the board like an inexorable tide.
It was with a nerve-blasted shock, written in a white, drawn face, that Yashiro Kiyoharu finally croaked: "I - I have nothing."
For a moment Touya said nothing. He looked almost startled out of a trance. He had stood ramrod straight as he called out point after point, his voice stringently even, hands clenched at his sides. Now, the abrupt cessation of the demand seemed to put him at a loss. Then he blinked, and for the first time in half-an-hour seemed to actually see the pro who now slumped beside the door in incredulous defeat.
"Thank you for the game." Touya's bow was so brief as to be insulting; the Kansai 7-dan hadn't even managed to hold on to the end game. Only then did Touya turn to look at Hikaru. Hikaru stared back at him.
Touya finally seemed to notice where he had barricaded themselves in for the past half-hour. And, depreciatively, he smiled. "How embarrassing," he only said, as if mocking himself. And then without saying one word more, he pushed past Yashiro and walked out. The door swung close behind him. There was a brief, stunned moment of silence between the two people left behind in the men's room of the Kani Doraku Crab. Then it broke.
"Who the hell are you people?" Yashiro yelled.
Hikaru, trembling, wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. A streak of blood came away on his fingers. There had been nothing gentle in that - that - ...his mind shied away from the word. Hikaru's eyes remained fixed on the door through which he had disappeared. "He's Touya," he muttered.
What else, Hikaru did not know.
* * *
"Well, well. Looks like she wasn't kidding."
They watched the man - mid-twenties, Japanese, medium-height, hair in a loose ponytail - walk out of the restaurant.
"Are you sure that's him? Looks like a cream-puff."
A black Mercedes peeled out of the traffic and up to the curb. It's driver came out and hurried around the car to open the passenger-side door. The man got in. Then, a moment later, the car merged back into the traffic.
"No mistake. Saw him after his old man's funeral. Damn." He stubbed his cigarette in the car's ashtray. "Never thought the boy had it in him."
His partner shrugged. "Guess it's in the blood." His cell-phone rang then, and he thumbed it open. "Yes?" Silence as he listened, before hanging up. "That was Tokyo headquarters. Ohba's dead." He smiled dryly. "Death certificate says brain hemorrhage from a stroke."
The other man snorted derisively from beside him, eyes still fixed on the front of the restaurant. "Ye good, old medical establishment."
In the driver's seat of the idling car, Detective Ichiro shrugged. "Bullet to the brain, brain hemorrhage - what's the difference? All we need to know is that the Touya-gumi is moving up." Then he frowned. "But just what is that woman thinking?"
"Internal fissures," Detective Godo said simply; he had been just as dubious when he'd received the tip-off, but since then, he'd given it some thought. She was an ambitious woman, after all. "Bad for the Sumiyoshi, great for us. - Here he comes."
Another young man, also in his mid-twenties, Japanese, medium height, muscled. He didn't look as well off as the yakuza boss he'd met with did - in fact, he looked decidedly scruffy. His features, however, were surprisingly delicate. The man took a moment to look around the bustling street.
Godo moved the back of his seat down, until he was in a reclining position and out of sight. "Shindo Hikaru. The tip checked out: he did have contacts with the Korean community while in Tokyo. Possibly, even a drug connection. But not enough to bring him in."
Shielded behind his newspaper, Ichiro raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't look too happy. Think the deal's off?"
Eyes on the car ceiling, Godo snorted. "Guys like these are cannon fodder. If he doesn't work out, Touya will find someone else."
"Well, then, looks like Touya junior is following old Kouyo's footsteps, and going international."
Godo scowled. "The new breed of yakuza is getting smarter. But underneath, they're still just thugs."
The Touya-gumi's newest delegate to Korea finally stopped looking around and started down the street.
Godo pulled his seat back to an upright position. "They're a blight on Japanese law enforcement," he growled.
Ichiro smiled, and put aside the paper. "Well, I'm just another civil servant, looking for a promotion."
Their unmarked car pulled out and merged into the oncoming traffic.
* * *
end of Spring
* * *
continued in Summer
Index