Just in time...

[harumi]

Years

This year was different.

Akira felt a little foolish, sitting beside Shindou, who was looking outside the window to watch the flashing view, and not paying any attention to him at all. Inside the bus was stifling hot, but apparently nobody had the foresight to include sliding windows. Even if Akira had wanted to catch a breeze, he wouldn’t be able to.

It was probably why Shindou wasn’t saying anything. Too hot to talk, too hot to think-Akira found he couldn’t even summon up the kifu he had just been reading on the bullet train hours ago, and it was too hot to read them now. He sat back with a sigh, and longed for the bus ride to be over.

Eventually the bus rolled to a halt, and Akira realized that he was now too exhausted to get up. He must have somehow managed to fall asleep, despite the heat.

“Oi, Touya. Get up.”

Shindou’s insistent prodding forced to him to move. He groaned, standing up, but the movement was good for him. Now he wanted nothing more than to get off and take in a breath of fresh air.

“You’re playing too much go Touya, if a little bus ride is going to make you groan like an old geezer,” Shindou teased, his eyes dancing. How his rival was able to retain so much energy in this kind of unbearable heat was mystifying.

“You say that like you don’t play as much as I do,” Akira said reproachfully, but he got the message. The two stepped out onto solid concrete. Akira took a breath of air, the smell of salt and water filling his lungs. It was still hot, but at least there was wind. Feeling far more revived, he collected himself just in time to see Shindou beginning to walk. Their destination was obvious, so it wasn’t like he had to fear leaving Akira behind, but still. Shindou could have waited, but he seemed to have gone beyond simple manners. His rival’s expression was blank, his eyes lost. Akira was familiar with this of course. He saw it every year around this time, May 5th.

This year was different, however.

They walked in silence, down the concrete road, the sun turning it hazy white, images around them wavering. It was an hour long walk, exhausting and painful in the heat. Akira wished that he hadn’t so quickly drunk his can of green tea. He could have used it right now, but that was but one more regrettable action in the ever perfect world of hindsight. Feeling decidedly irritated, he wondered again, why he had bothered.

Akira had come home from a game late at night, only to find Shindou packing.

“Where are you going?” he’d asked.

“I’m going to Innoshima,” Shindou had replied. Then in his usual obnoxious manner he’d added, “You shouldn’t be so surprised. I do this every year.”

Belatedly, Akira had remembered that tomorrow was May 5th. He had been so distracted by his ever busy schedule that he had lost track of the dates. And now it was another year. He’d felt slightly guilty. Shindou had looked more somber than usual, his face a little duller. As his rival, friend, and lover, Akira should have noticed, shouldn’t he?

“Would you mind if I came with you?” he said.

Shindou had been decidedly surprised, but when Akira repeated the question, this time a little more firmly, a little more insistent, a brief flicker of a smile had formed on his face.

“Aa. You’d better start packing then.”

Shindou hadn’t forbidden him, and he’d certainly sounded pleased at the time, Akira thought, annoyed. So why was he feeling like an abandoned go piece, lost in enemy territory? A line of houses had come into view. They were finally close to the Shuusaku shrine, but Shindou gave no change in expression, and Akira at this point was feeling too uneasy to speak up. Unhappily, he followed his rival past the houses, down the street and toward the shrine.

Despite his own growing depression, Akira perked up at surroundings so blatantly dedicated to go. A rather largish building had a sign written on it, saying that it had go artifacts from Shuusaku’s time. It took a lot of self-will not to wander off. He was here for Shindou, Akira reminded himself. He was here to make sure, to know.

Besides, he could always come here some other time.

“We’re going to visit Shuusaku’s grave,” Shindou said, the first time speaking in an hour, which was, Akira thought absently, a rather amazing feat. At least it was when he wasn’t before a goban. Outside it he chattered enough for ten people.

“Okay,” Akira said. He paused then. “Aren’t you going to buy incense or something else for Shuusaku’s grave?”

“Naw. I don’t think he’d care very much. Besides, Shuusaku gets plenty of stuff from people all the time.”

That’s not the point Akira wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead he did what he had been doing all day, following Shindou silently, hoping that his presence was enough.

It was almost anticlimactic when they stopped in front of a grave marker carved with the name “Honinbou Shuusaku”, though the words were half covered because someone, or several someone’s, had taken care to leave flowers at the grave. Shindou had been right when he’d said that Shuusaku got lots of “stuff.” The grave itself was nothing spectacular, and after he’d said the ritualistic prayers he was starting to feel decidedly lost. Now what? he wondered, looking to Shindou for what to do next.

Shindou surprised him.

“Ne, Sai,” he began.

Akira felt a jolt like electricity. He opened his mouth to say something, to ask why Shindou was calling Honinbou Shuusaku “Sai”, but Shindou continued, oblivious.

“I brought you someone new to see today. Well, not really, haha,” Shindou laughed. “You should know him of course. Remember the time you first met him? I’d thought he was just a stupid kid…” Touya felt a burst of indignation. “…but you’d told me that he’d grow up into either a tiger, or a dragon. You’d been so impressed, remember?

“Anyway, I brought him here to see you today. He’s gotten really good, but I can beat him now. I beat him lots of times, though he’s always in denial about it afterwards.”

Touya snorted.

“This year we’re both in the running for several titles. I’m going to get mine before he does, you just wait, Sai! I’m not going to lose to him. And then when he gets his titles I’ll rip them out of his hands before he’s had a chance to defend it. He’ll probably do the same to me too,” he added as an afterthought. “But that’s the way it should be, shouldn’t it? Because we’re rivals.”

Akira didn’t say anything, but he could feel a connection, long formed by hundreds, thousands of games, appear between them. It had been lost on the journey, but Akira could see it coming back again, stronger than ever. Was this why Shindou came here, again and again, every year at the same time, without fail?

Shindou continued on for several more minutes, describing the happenings of other people, people who were Shindou’s friends, and, from what Akira could tell, Sai also knew. By the time he was done, the sun was beginning to set, and Akira shivered. He looked up, surprised. He had not noticed the weather change, though from the looks of it, it was going to rain, very soon.

“Shindou, are you done? We should get going now,” Akira said, motioning at the sky.

His rival turned to look at the sky, his eyes widening appreciatively at the rapidly forming clouds.

“We’d better hurry then, before we get caught in it,” he said, grinning.

“You think?” Akira replied exasperatedly, but he was feeling relieved. He was back to normal again, his rival. Hikaru’s eyes were bright and shining, like he’d just met a long lost friend. Then again, Akira supposed, that’s what he’d just did.

They got caught in the rain halfway to the nearest hotel. By the time they had stepped through the door, Akira was as wet as if he’d jumped into the school pool. Hikaru fared no better; his yellow bangs were plastered to his face, making him look like a drowned rat with long yellow fur.

Later that night, the two cuddled together on the futons, wrapped warmly in futons, listening to the sound of the rain, Hikaru occasionally commenting on the lightening flashing across the sky.

“You know, Akira,” Hikaru said.

“What?”

“It was nice this year, with you along.”

Akira had been about to fall asleep, but this woke him up again.

“You mean you noticed?”

“Of course I noticed! I asked you to come along didn’t I?”

“No, I invited myself along. You just told me to go pack.”

“That’s as good as an invitation right there!”

The two of them fell silent again. Outside, the rain increased in frequency, until it became hard to hear each other. When it finally started to slow down, Hikaru spoke up again.

“I…I know that I’d kind of ignored you most of the way here.” Akira made a motion to speak, but decided against it. “But I knew you were there, and it was nice, okay? I was happy, really happy. This is the first time you’d ever asked to come along. I was really excited, even…even if I didn’t show it.”

Akira looked over at his partner. Though it was dark, Akira could make out the outline of Hikaru’s face, the way his large eyes shone, even when the sky was covered by clouds, and any lightning strikes had long passed with the rolls of thunder. His eyes shown like his go. Wordlessly, Akira wished for them to shine forever, like their names.

“I’ll come with you again next year,” he said, quietly. Hikaru shifted beside him, an arm lifting to bring Akira closer to him. He was warm. Akira sank against him, feeling safe. “I’ll come again the year after that. And the year after that. I’ll come with you from now on, when you come to visit Sa-Shuusaku.”

“Good.”

No more words were spoken afterwards. They fell asleep in tangled limbs and rolled up blankets, waking up only when the sun streamed past the window to warm their faces.

After breakfast, they walked back to the bus station.

Next year, there will be another May 5th, and once again the two of them will arrive on Innoshima, to brave the heat and visit the shrine. Akira smiled, his hands clasped in Hikaru’s.

Like this year, next year will be the same.