Almost, But Not Quite (Hikago, KagaTsutsui, PG)
Aishuu Offers:
Almost, But Not Quite
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Hotta and Obata.
Note: Angst. KagaTsutsui
Tsutsui had been a constant presence at Kaga’s side. Ever since elementary school, the other boy had been there, usually on the outskirts of his presence, steadying him. They rarely got along, but that was okay. Tsutsui was quiet, but rarely cowed when something was important to him. And that was what Kaga liked best about him - Tsutsui didn’t back down when it counted. Still, he was painfully shy, and had a tendency to stutter, which made it hard for him to make friends. So he took whatever Kaga kindness offered, and returned it tenfold.
Kaga knew he didn’t deserve him.
Kaga was a bully, and he knew it. He was bigger than most kids his age, and had a fiery temper. He was always ready to lash out, especially when people insulted him or managed to prove themselves better than he was. Unlike most bullies, though, Kaga was smart, too smart for most of the people around him, and too smart to be caught intimidating those weaker than he was.
Tsutsui was a smart child, too, so it was natural they would spend time together. At first they spent time playing Go, which Kaga always managed to win, but later they would work on homework or just sit quietly together, knowing that there was someone they could be alone with.
It was a special thing, being with someone without having to entertain them. They would spend hours at the each other’s houses, often times doing what they wanted without fear of the other complaining about being lonely.
People assumed Tsutsui was Kaga’s lackey, but that wasn’t true. Tsutsui did what Kaga wanted because he had few desires of his own. He wanted to be a good son, a good friend, a good student - but those vague goals fell by the wayside when Kaga wanted something immediately. Kaga lived in the moment; Tsutsui lived for the future. So Tsutsui would do what Kaga wanted, trying to meet his expectations. It was part of friendship, to Tsutsui.
Kaga said that he was the practical one, which Tsutsui would admit was the truth. Kaga made things happen, while Tsutsui daydreamed. They were day and night, yin and yang, fire and ice. But their strange relationship worked, and they didn’t think to question it.
There were times when they thought they would never speak again, like when Kaga quit playing Go. It was something that Tsutsui couldn’t understand. Tsutsui knew he didn’t have enough talent for the game to amount to anything, but when he saw his friend give up his chance, he asked why.
Kaga flew into a rage, throwing the book he had been studying from at his friend. It hit Tsutsui, who had poor reflexes, upside the face, leaving a large mark.
Tsutsui forgave him. Tsutsui always forgave Kaga. But they didn’t speak of Go again.
Things change, though, as children grow up, and as they entered middle school, Kaga became popular. He didn’t leave Tsutsui behind intentionally, never that, but childish things like casual friendships were shelved. Kaga’s bright and burning light captivated those who met him, and Tsutsui, as was his nature, faded into the background, only to emerge when Kaga went too far.
Tsutsui was the only one unafraid of him, because he knew what Kaga was like. Kaga had a terrible temper, but even the worst storms would subside into a calm sea.
And when Kaga did sometimes go too far, using his forceful personality to get what he wanted, it would be up to the class nerd, the quiet kid who everyone teased, to get up and confront him. Kaga would mock him, and occasionally rough him up, but Tsutsui would be adamant. Even though he lost constantly to Tsutsui’s adamant refusal to be cowed, Kaga would calm down, and there would be peace for a few weeks.
Kaga found looking at Tsutsui’s face painful, a reminder of how he should be living. They stopped speaking, but always there was a tenuous connection, a sense of waiting.
And that was how their friendship fell into a long slumber, much the way trees lose their leaves during the cold winter.
Spring came for them, though, in the form of a sixth grader who dragged them into Go together. Tsutui loved the game above all else, having many fond memories of shared games with Kaga before Kaga quit, but Kaga hated it. To him, Go was a symbol of failure, a sign that he would never be good enough in his father’s eyes. Kaga had abandoned it, like he abandoned everything that became too difficult, for shogi, because shogi was easy for him. Many things were easy for Kaga, and he never had to take the hard route because easier ones were always available to someone with his gifts.
Still, Shindou Hikaru somehow forced Kaga to examine the game he claimed to hate, and Kaga realized that he, too, loved it. It had been too much a part of his life to give up.
It was at the tournament, with Tsutsui sitting by his side, carefully laying out moods according to a joseki book that Kaga felt settled for the first time in years. A part of the restlessness that had plagued him melted away like snow in the warm sunlight, and he smiled a bit, an honest smile.
He should have taken up Tsutsui’s offer to join the Go Club after the tournament, but he was too proud. Kaga had made a mistake by leaving Go, and he couldn’t admit it to anyone.
Tsutsui, though, gave him a kind smile, as though he understood exactly what he was thinking. Instead, he quietly asked if they could play together, sometime.
That weekend, they went to a Go salon, feeling so much older than they had before. Neither had been to one before, always believing them to be the territory of old men. But now they saw it merely as a haven where they could renew the friendship which had been stretched so thin.
They met once a week at irregular intervals, always ready to talk over the games they played. Kaga’s skills were rusty from disuse, but he always won, being more creative and daring than the by-the-book Tsutsui. Both of them knew that Tsutsui would never win an even game, but that wasn’t the point.
Kaga had grown in the years since they had played together, and though his temper still flared, all it would take was a look from Tsutsui to calm him down. Tsutsui’s voice was on the quiet side, so he had to listen carefully if he wanted to hear what the other boy was saying.
And he did.
Tsutsui spoke of trivial things, of homework and exam anxiety, and also his concern for Shindou, who seemed to be one of the most erratic players he had ever heard of. Kaga understood the fascination, but didn’t realize how extreme it was until Shindou wanted to take the insei exams.
He had been running from his shogi advisor, and come upon a stressed atmosphere in the Go Club room. Seeing the tenseness, he challenged Shindou to an impossible test, a way to show him that he belonged in the Go Club. He honestly expected the kid to lose.
Instead, he lost Tsutsui his club when Shindou managed to defeat both Mitani and Tsutsui and still giving Kaga himself a good game.
Tsutsui, though, didn’t see it like that. Tsutsui was depressed, feeling he had failed as a senpai. Shindou wouldn’t be able to make it in the professional world - many people had dreams like that, but few succeeded.
Kaga, though, was the one who held hope. He remembered the Kaio games.
Somehow, his hope conveyed itself to Tsutsui, who perked up, seeming to remember how to laugh. They eagerly talked of following their friend’s career when he became a pro, laughing about saying that they would each be able to one day brag about beating the Meijin.
But Tsutsui’s laughter was a painful to Kaga sometimes, who realized that shortly their paths would be separating. Tsutsui would be going to a public high school, while his father would be sending him to a private one. He wished that he could capture these moments and hold them forever.
Time flowed onwards, and finally it was the day before graduation. Kaga knew that things between them would never be the same, because he would be going to one of the best private schools in the city, while Tsutsui had been forced to go to a public one due to family finances.
The day was bright and brilliant, but Kaga felt a lump of lead in his stomach. He wanted to stop the clock, and remain here forever...
Or at least remain with Tsutsui.
Tsutsui, though, spent the last moments before leaving talking to the members of the Go Club he had constructed, wishing them luck. Kaga smiled as Shindou thanked him, but his eyes remained on his best friend, wondering why things had to change.
It was a while before he was able to draw Tsutsui away, and wrap a companionable arm around his shoulders. Tsutsui was still slight, but his growth spurt was finally coming on and Kaga knew that Tsutsui would grow into a tall and graceful young man.
That day Tsutsui’s parents were planning on taking him out on a congratulatory dinner, so Kaga knew his time was limited. He spoke of future plans and made half-promises to meet in the future, but Tsutsui practically pointed out the difference in their futures. It would be a while before they met again, and both knew it. When they did, neither would be the same person, and Kaga was afraid he wouldn’t recognize his gentle yet strong friend who was so much a part of his identity.
He felt like he was watching a sunset, and Tsutsui fade into the glorious dark night, a beautiful memory that would warm him when he felt alone. The knowledge that somewhere in the world, Tsutsui was continuing to live in his own quiet, determined fashion would have to be enough to keep Kaga going.
“I’ll be seeing you, Tsutsui,” Kaga said.
Tsutsui slipped away, and gave him a sad smile. “Someday, maybe,” he replied.
Tsutsui clutched his diploma tightly in one hand before offering Kaga an awkward wave with the other, before turning to walk away without a backward glance. Soon Tsutsui was out of sight, and all that was left was the lengthening day.
Kaga remained motionless, wondering if Tsutsui had been a dream... and if there was anyway to go back to sleep.
Almost, But Not Quite
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Hotta and Obata.
Note: Angst. KagaTsutsui
Tsutsui had been a constant presence at Kaga’s side. Ever since elementary school, the other boy had been there, usually on the outskirts of his presence, steadying him. They rarely got along, but that was okay. Tsutsui was quiet, but rarely cowed when something was important to him. And that was what Kaga liked best about him - Tsutsui didn’t back down when it counted. Still, he was painfully shy, and had a tendency to stutter, which made it hard for him to make friends. So he took whatever Kaga kindness offered, and returned it tenfold.
Kaga knew he didn’t deserve him.
Kaga was a bully, and he knew it. He was bigger than most kids his age, and had a fiery temper. He was always ready to lash out, especially when people insulted him or managed to prove themselves better than he was. Unlike most bullies, though, Kaga was smart, too smart for most of the people around him, and too smart to be caught intimidating those weaker than he was.
Tsutsui was a smart child, too, so it was natural they would spend time together. At first they spent time playing Go, which Kaga always managed to win, but later they would work on homework or just sit quietly together, knowing that there was someone they could be alone with.
It was a special thing, being with someone without having to entertain them. They would spend hours at the each other’s houses, often times doing what they wanted without fear of the other complaining about being lonely.
People assumed Tsutsui was Kaga’s lackey, but that wasn’t true. Tsutsui did what Kaga wanted because he had few desires of his own. He wanted to be a good son, a good friend, a good student - but those vague goals fell by the wayside when Kaga wanted something immediately. Kaga lived in the moment; Tsutsui lived for the future. So Tsutsui would do what Kaga wanted, trying to meet his expectations. It was part of friendship, to Tsutsui.
Kaga said that he was the practical one, which Tsutsui would admit was the truth. Kaga made things happen, while Tsutsui daydreamed. They were day and night, yin and yang, fire and ice. But their strange relationship worked, and they didn’t think to question it.
There were times when they thought they would never speak again, like when Kaga quit playing Go. It was something that Tsutsui couldn’t understand. Tsutsui knew he didn’t have enough talent for the game to amount to anything, but when he saw his friend give up his chance, he asked why.
Kaga flew into a rage, throwing the book he had been studying from at his friend. It hit Tsutsui, who had poor reflexes, upside the face, leaving a large mark.
Tsutsui forgave him. Tsutsui always forgave Kaga. But they didn’t speak of Go again.
Things change, though, as children grow up, and as they entered middle school, Kaga became popular. He didn’t leave Tsutsui behind intentionally, never that, but childish things like casual friendships were shelved. Kaga’s bright and burning light captivated those who met him, and Tsutsui, as was his nature, faded into the background, only to emerge when Kaga went too far.
Tsutsui was the only one unafraid of him, because he knew what Kaga was like. Kaga had a terrible temper, but even the worst storms would subside into a calm sea.
And when Kaga did sometimes go too far, using his forceful personality to get what he wanted, it would be up to the class nerd, the quiet kid who everyone teased, to get up and confront him. Kaga would mock him, and occasionally rough him up, but Tsutsui would be adamant. Even though he lost constantly to Tsutsui’s adamant refusal to be cowed, Kaga would calm down, and there would be peace for a few weeks.
Kaga found looking at Tsutsui’s face painful, a reminder of how he should be living. They stopped speaking, but always there was a tenuous connection, a sense of waiting.
And that was how their friendship fell into a long slumber, much the way trees lose their leaves during the cold winter.
Spring came for them, though, in the form of a sixth grader who dragged them into Go together. Tsutui loved the game above all else, having many fond memories of shared games with Kaga before Kaga quit, but Kaga hated it. To him, Go was a symbol of failure, a sign that he would never be good enough in his father’s eyes. Kaga had abandoned it, like he abandoned everything that became too difficult, for shogi, because shogi was easy for him. Many things were easy for Kaga, and he never had to take the hard route because easier ones were always available to someone with his gifts.
Still, Shindou Hikaru somehow forced Kaga to examine the game he claimed to hate, and Kaga realized that he, too, loved it. It had been too much a part of his life to give up.
It was at the tournament, with Tsutsui sitting by his side, carefully laying out moods according to a joseki book that Kaga felt settled for the first time in years. A part of the restlessness that had plagued him melted away like snow in the warm sunlight, and he smiled a bit, an honest smile.
He should have taken up Tsutsui’s offer to join the Go Club after the tournament, but he was too proud. Kaga had made a mistake by leaving Go, and he couldn’t admit it to anyone.
Tsutsui, though, gave him a kind smile, as though he understood exactly what he was thinking. Instead, he quietly asked if they could play together, sometime.
That weekend, they went to a Go salon, feeling so much older than they had before. Neither had been to one before, always believing them to be the territory of old men. But now they saw it merely as a haven where they could renew the friendship which had been stretched so thin.
They met once a week at irregular intervals, always ready to talk over the games they played. Kaga’s skills were rusty from disuse, but he always won, being more creative and daring than the by-the-book Tsutsui. Both of them knew that Tsutsui would never win an even game, but that wasn’t the point.
Kaga had grown in the years since they had played together, and though his temper still flared, all it would take was a look from Tsutsui to calm him down. Tsutsui’s voice was on the quiet side, so he had to listen carefully if he wanted to hear what the other boy was saying.
And he did.
Tsutsui spoke of trivial things, of homework and exam anxiety, and also his concern for Shindou, who seemed to be one of the most erratic players he had ever heard of. Kaga understood the fascination, but didn’t realize how extreme it was until Shindou wanted to take the insei exams.
He had been running from his shogi advisor, and come upon a stressed atmosphere in the Go Club room. Seeing the tenseness, he challenged Shindou to an impossible test, a way to show him that he belonged in the Go Club. He honestly expected the kid to lose.
Instead, he lost Tsutsui his club when Shindou managed to defeat both Mitani and Tsutsui and still giving Kaga himself a good game.
Tsutsui, though, didn’t see it like that. Tsutsui was depressed, feeling he had failed as a senpai. Shindou wouldn’t be able to make it in the professional world - many people had dreams like that, but few succeeded.
Kaga, though, was the one who held hope. He remembered the Kaio games.
Somehow, his hope conveyed itself to Tsutsui, who perked up, seeming to remember how to laugh. They eagerly talked of following their friend’s career when he became a pro, laughing about saying that they would each be able to one day brag about beating the Meijin.
But Tsutsui’s laughter was a painful to Kaga sometimes, who realized that shortly their paths would be separating. Tsutsui would be going to a public high school, while his father would be sending him to a private one. He wished that he could capture these moments and hold them forever.
Time flowed onwards, and finally it was the day before graduation. Kaga knew that things between them would never be the same, because he would be going to one of the best private schools in the city, while Tsutsui had been forced to go to a public one due to family finances.
The day was bright and brilliant, but Kaga felt a lump of lead in his stomach. He wanted to stop the clock, and remain here forever...
Or at least remain with Tsutsui.
Tsutsui, though, spent the last moments before leaving talking to the members of the Go Club he had constructed, wishing them luck. Kaga smiled as Shindou thanked him, but his eyes remained on his best friend, wondering why things had to change.
It was a while before he was able to draw Tsutsui away, and wrap a companionable arm around his shoulders. Tsutsui was still slight, but his growth spurt was finally coming on and Kaga knew that Tsutsui would grow into a tall and graceful young man.
That day Tsutsui’s parents were planning on taking him out on a congratulatory dinner, so Kaga knew his time was limited. He spoke of future plans and made half-promises to meet in the future, but Tsutsui practically pointed out the difference in their futures. It would be a while before they met again, and both knew it. When they did, neither would be the same person, and Kaga was afraid he wouldn’t recognize his gentle yet strong friend who was so much a part of his identity.
He felt like he was watching a sunset, and Tsutsui fade into the glorious dark night, a beautiful memory that would warm him when he felt alone. The knowledge that somewhere in the world, Tsutsui was continuing to live in his own quiet, determined fashion would have to be enough to keep Kaga going.
“I’ll be seeing you, Tsutsui,” Kaga said.
Tsutsui slipped away, and gave him a sad smile. “Someday, maybe,” he replied.
Tsutsui clutched his diploma tightly in one hand before offering Kaga an awkward wave with the other, before turning to walk away without a backward glance. Soon Tsutsui was out of sight, and all that was left was the lengthening day.
Kaga remained motionless, wondering if Tsutsui had been a dream... and if there was anyway to go back to sleep.