[Kimura]
by blue_cage
420 Yen
This was not how Kishimoto Kaoru envisioned meeting the Haze boy again. In truth, he's never thought they'd meet again - not that he'd forgotten that tournament, oh no, if anything, the Shindou and Touya dynamics back then and the other boy's shockingly orange hair made it memorable. But when he graduated from Kaio he'd left everything connecting him to the game of go, and the 'Shindou Hikaru' and 'Touya Akira' were just mere names, devoid of significance besides those of go pros on the way to the top.
After the initial shock, the Haze boy - not a boy, Kishimoto thought, as it's been six years since years and he should be out of high school now - repeated his order for the largest cup of brewed coffee, to go, and it was obvious from the glint in his eyes that he was finding this situation amusing as he wrote a name on the cup's side.
"That'll be four hundred and twenty yen."
Kishimoto fumbled around for change and hastily pocketed the receipt. What was this boy's name again? They only met that one time, and Kishimoto had been appallingly high-handed about it. It had something to do with a number, yes, so maybe if he count from one to ten he'd remember.
“How are you doing today, Kishimoto?” Now he was definitely embarrassed at forgetting. Haze's captain obviously remembered him. Haze boy - Kishimoto was still counting in his head, trying to think of surnames that start with four - leaned over the counter while they waited for his coffee. Kishimoto promptly lost his count while he tried to find something else to focus on besides that intent gaze. That torte looked specially delicious. "Hey, Kishimoto-san?"
"Yes?"
"I'm nearly done here and there's a go salon right across the street. Maybe I can invite you to a game."
"I'm sorry, I've not played go in three years." That was since he entered university, because his father said, there is no point in pursuing something you'll never succeed in, was there, Kaoru? And he'd never looked back.
“Too bad. It'll be fun to see how we'll fare.” There was no bitterness in his voice, at least. "I haven't played much either, 'cept with the ojiisan there, and it'll be nice to see if I've grown rusty."
"I'll consider it - maybe next time." He was still thinking of the other guy's name when his coffee arrived. He accepted it with a small murmur of thanks.
"It's on the tag, you know."
"Tag?"
Haze captain's lip quirked up, and he casually pointed to the one pinned on his apron.
"Yuuki-kun?" Now that was definitely not it. It didn't even have a number on it.
“Kishimoto-kun,” he acknowledged, and that quirk turned into a lazy grin. "And it's Mitani Yuuki, since you forgot."
Mitani Yuuki. Kishimoto filed it away in his mind, and as he left the cafe, he glanced down at the phone number written on his receipt and felt his ears turn red.
The space between
There is always a space beside Shindou, Akari notices. A slight gap in a crowd when he is with them, slightly behind him, enough space for one more person to stand but often ignored by the rest. Once, she walks up to him and pretends to be looking at his game versus Mitani.
There is a presence, heavy but not stifling. As she stands there she gets a fleeting impression of coldsandalwoodmoonlight -- and Akari steps back before she can resist. Shindou looks at her, mildly curious. “Something wrong, Akari?”
“Oh no. I just thought I saw a leaf stuck to your hair, that's all.”
“What!?” Shindou flails, patting his hair. Akari laughs, brushing away the leaf that isn't there, and carefully edges away to stand by Mitani.
Then Shindou walks away, following the path of Go, and Akari never finds out about the space that stands between Shindou and the world. When they meet again that gap is gone, but she isn't the one by his side.
***
Touya notices it as well, though he is always too busy paying attention to Shindou's game to focus on the feeling. He sees it even when the other insei gather close and hide his rival-not rival from view. But as time passes he feels the weight lighten, blend with the exuberance that marks Shindou's existence.
He's stepped in that zone once or twice, experiences he doesn't repeat for there's nothing in it but chilly heaviness, and he misses Shindou's warmth.
“Does it bother you?” Shindou asks him once.
“No, but.” And at his words Shindou's eyes flickers, glancing to his left, right where that feeling is.
Touya doesn't look. He doesn't, because Shindou will be the one to decide if he will talk about it. There are things you talk about, ferreting out answers, and there are things you have to wait till it was the right time.
Shindou smiles and walks away, joining the other former insei.
***
Shindou knows they are on to him. Sai doesn't, but then that's because Sai only cares about go. By the time Shindou is ready to tell Sai, the space between him and the world is gone, vanished amidst koi flags and the hazy heat of summer.
It takes three years. During the first year Waya steps right behind him, and Hikaru stutters and jumps back. He spends most of the second year with his back close to being permanently nailed to a wall as he comes to terms with not having Sai hovering behind him.
It was slow going, but Shindou works hard to fill in that gap. Unconsciously, his friends and Touya help, distracting him with go and letting him remember why he plays go in the first place.
In the third year, he speaks of the Hand of God with his back turned from Touya, and falls silent at a feather-light touch.
“We'll find it together.” And there are unspoken words, 'Let me take his place.'
As his answer, Shindou laces their finger together. “I'd like that.”
Impossible to ignore you
Kaga thought he had life pretty much figured out by now. His classes in the university were fucking hard, true, but he spent only enough time on them to pass and then played around. He was here to have as much fun as he could with women, alcohol and cigarettes. Sometimes men, but only after four beers and if they were okay with no strings.
He had ways to pass anyway. A five foot five, bespectacled method of having complete notes for his exams. Funny how things worked out and Tsutsui remained the one constant he could rely on.
Speaking of his constant, Tsutsui was doing his patented sexy glare above the rim of his glasses. Kaga shrugged; it was obvious he's wearing the same shirt and jeans from yesterday. "A degenerate life," he muttered.
The lie came easily. "Kashima needed help with her paper and I came straight from there. Do you mind lending me your notes today?"
Tsutsui shook his head, but scooted over to let Kaga sit with him. "Honestly. Midterms are coming up, and you're not even trying to pass the course."
"It's 'cause I want you to spend time cramming with you on the night before exams. Your sleeping face is too cute."
Tsutsui snorted and slapped down the appropriate notebook on the desk. "Here, and if you want to cram tonight makes sure you bring it with you."
"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed again? You should join me when I go to the club one of these days." They both knew the offer was mere formality. Tsutsui didn't like clubs after being felt up in one, and Kaga didn't want to be thrown out again for beating up other patrons. Oh well, Kaga thought, at least he'll spend the night at Tsutsui's, even if it meant going through calculus and all those bothersome things. Tsutsui huffed and ignored him, for the lecture just begun.
He looked at Tsutsui, really looked, and idly noted the faint flush of annoyance extended below his collar. He still remembered how far that blush could go once Tsutsui was tipsy, because he got Tsutsui drunk right before they graduated high school. Too bad that only ended up in a surprise midnight swim in the school pool.
He wished he could get Tsutsui that drunk again. Tsutsui and alcohol meant no inhibitions and unpredictable outcomes, but for once, he wanted surprises.
Tsutsui hissed, "Kaga. Pay attention now!"
"I am." And he was telling the truth for once. He paid attention to the fraction of an inch between his seat and Tsutsui's, knowing he never sat so close with anyone else.
Or that the boys in his drunken one night stands all wear glasses.
"Tsutsui," he whispered. "You don't mind if I bring some beer tonight, do you?"
Tsutsui paused at his notetaking. Finally he said, "Bring whatever you want."
Kaga grinned, and plotted on getting Tsutsui to get his shirt off, and do much, much more.
Broken Troika
They make an odd group, uneasy and never equal, because Ochi doesn't join in their fun, and Waya never likes Ochi in the first place, saying he was too stuck up by half. Isumi doesn't like Ochi that much either, but he never says it aloud for he know how easily careless words can break down someone's resolve.
Waya hangs around Isumi, because Isumi is a friend even away from the go board and game reviews, and will to treat him to sushi after lousy games to cheer him up. And in return he sits beside Isumi as the older boy quietly falls apart and comes together to fight another battle with the demons in his head. He glares at Ochi when the younger boy makes Isumi falter, and mutely watches as Ochi goes home alone every session.
Waya thinks Ochi would be better overall if he'll stop being an ass about go and learn about stuff like video games and other things teenagers like. There is life away from go after all. And he knows there isn't a way to like Isumi more without going into do-not-go-there-we're-best-friends-only territory.
Ochi sees them as catalysts for his improvement. Waya's words cut him, but he grits his teeth and pushes himself harder, trying to overtake Isumi. Let Waya flail and say he was doing better than him, but Ochi looks at their records and the tangible proof he can beat Waya at their games. Isumi is his stepping stone, and is sensible even when he suffers through a lack of self-belief.
Ochi thinks he'll like them more if Isumi will be more aggressive at their games, and if Waya will be less. Or if Waya will just stop treating him like a kid just because he was years younger. He does know how to have fun, except his definition of fun doesn't jive with the other boy.
Isumi never shows his thoughts about their odd triumvirate, but he does breathe a sigh of relief when loudmouthed Shindou joins the insei and balances things a little and Ochi walks away and finds a connection with Honda and the rest. He sees it more clearly, and knows change will have to come gradually in the influence of others. For Waya to learn not to live as if life is a battle. For Ochi to learn how to connect to people as friends rather than rivals. For himself, to learn from them both and believe in his ability to live and play. Shindou coming in frees them from microscoping their lives around each other, giving them room to breathe and grow.
He hopes one day they can all sit down just talk about the game over sushi or ramen, or maybe a cup of coffee, look at each other and smile. Facing each other beyond the board. Maybe on the road to be friends.
420 Yen
This was not how Kishimoto Kaoru envisioned meeting the Haze boy again. In truth, he's never thought they'd meet again - not that he'd forgotten that tournament, oh no, if anything, the Shindou and Touya dynamics back then and the other boy's shockingly orange hair made it memorable. But when he graduated from Kaio he'd left everything connecting him to the game of go, and the 'Shindou Hikaru' and 'Touya Akira' were just mere names, devoid of significance besides those of go pros on the way to the top.
After the initial shock, the Haze boy - not a boy, Kishimoto thought, as it's been six years since years and he should be out of high school now - repeated his order for the largest cup of brewed coffee, to go, and it was obvious from the glint in his eyes that he was finding this situation amusing as he wrote a name on the cup's side.
"That'll be four hundred and twenty yen."
Kishimoto fumbled around for change and hastily pocketed the receipt. What was this boy's name again? They only met that one time, and Kishimoto had been appallingly high-handed about it. It had something to do with a number, yes, so maybe if he count from one to ten he'd remember.
“How are you doing today, Kishimoto?” Now he was definitely embarrassed at forgetting. Haze's captain obviously remembered him. Haze boy - Kishimoto was still counting in his head, trying to think of surnames that start with four - leaned over the counter while they waited for his coffee. Kishimoto promptly lost his count while he tried to find something else to focus on besides that intent gaze. That torte looked specially delicious. "Hey, Kishimoto-san?"
"Yes?"
"I'm nearly done here and there's a go salon right across the street. Maybe I can invite you to a game."
"I'm sorry, I've not played go in three years." That was since he entered university, because his father said, there is no point in pursuing something you'll never succeed in, was there, Kaoru? And he'd never looked back.
“Too bad. It'll be fun to see how we'll fare.” There was no bitterness in his voice, at least. "I haven't played much either, 'cept with the ojiisan there, and it'll be nice to see if I've grown rusty."
"I'll consider it - maybe next time." He was still thinking of the other guy's name when his coffee arrived. He accepted it with a small murmur of thanks.
"It's on the tag, you know."
"Tag?"
Haze captain's lip quirked up, and he casually pointed to the one pinned on his apron.
"Yuuki-kun?" Now that was definitely not it. It didn't even have a number on it.
“Kishimoto-kun,” he acknowledged, and that quirk turned into a lazy grin. "And it's Mitani Yuuki, since you forgot."
Mitani Yuuki. Kishimoto filed it away in his mind, and as he left the cafe, he glanced down at the phone number written on his receipt and felt his ears turn red.
The space between
There is always a space beside Shindou, Akari notices. A slight gap in a crowd when he is with them, slightly behind him, enough space for one more person to stand but often ignored by the rest. Once, she walks up to him and pretends to be looking at his game versus Mitani.
There is a presence, heavy but not stifling. As she stands there she gets a fleeting impression of coldsandalwoodmoonlight -- and Akari steps back before she can resist. Shindou looks at her, mildly curious. “Something wrong, Akari?”
“Oh no. I just thought I saw a leaf stuck to your hair, that's all.”
“What!?” Shindou flails, patting his hair. Akari laughs, brushing away the leaf that isn't there, and carefully edges away to stand by Mitani.
Then Shindou walks away, following the path of Go, and Akari never finds out about the space that stands between Shindou and the world. When they meet again that gap is gone, but she isn't the one by his side.
***
Touya notices it as well, though he is always too busy paying attention to Shindou's game to focus on the feeling. He sees it even when the other insei gather close and hide his rival-not rival from view. But as time passes he feels the weight lighten, blend with the exuberance that marks Shindou's existence.
He's stepped in that zone once or twice, experiences he doesn't repeat for there's nothing in it but chilly heaviness, and he misses Shindou's warmth.
“Does it bother you?” Shindou asks him once.
“No, but.” And at his words Shindou's eyes flickers, glancing to his left, right where that feeling is.
Touya doesn't look. He doesn't, because Shindou will be the one to decide if he will talk about it. There are things you talk about, ferreting out answers, and there are things you have to wait till it was the right time.
Shindou smiles and walks away, joining the other former insei.
***
Shindou knows they are on to him. Sai doesn't, but then that's because Sai only cares about go. By the time Shindou is ready to tell Sai, the space between him and the world is gone, vanished amidst koi flags and the hazy heat of summer.
It takes three years. During the first year Waya steps right behind him, and Hikaru stutters and jumps back. He spends most of the second year with his back close to being permanently nailed to a wall as he comes to terms with not having Sai hovering behind him.
It was slow going, but Shindou works hard to fill in that gap. Unconsciously, his friends and Touya help, distracting him with go and letting him remember why he plays go in the first place.
In the third year, he speaks of the Hand of God with his back turned from Touya, and falls silent at a feather-light touch.
“We'll find it together.” And there are unspoken words, 'Let me take his place.'
As his answer, Shindou laces their finger together. “I'd like that.”
Impossible to ignore you
Kaga thought he had life pretty much figured out by now. His classes in the university were fucking hard, true, but he spent only enough time on them to pass and then played around. He was here to have as much fun as he could with women, alcohol and cigarettes. Sometimes men, but only after four beers and if they were okay with no strings.
He had ways to pass anyway. A five foot five, bespectacled method of having complete notes for his exams. Funny how things worked out and Tsutsui remained the one constant he could rely on.
Speaking of his constant, Tsutsui was doing his patented sexy glare above the rim of his glasses. Kaga shrugged; it was obvious he's wearing the same shirt and jeans from yesterday. "A degenerate life," he muttered.
The lie came easily. "Kashima needed help with her paper and I came straight from there. Do you mind lending me your notes today?"
Tsutsui shook his head, but scooted over to let Kaga sit with him. "Honestly. Midterms are coming up, and you're not even trying to pass the course."
"It's 'cause I want you to spend time cramming with you on the night before exams. Your sleeping face is too cute."
Tsutsui snorted and slapped down the appropriate notebook on the desk. "Here, and if you want to cram tonight makes sure you bring it with you."
"Woke up on the wrong side of the bed again? You should join me when I go to the club one of these days." They both knew the offer was mere formality. Tsutsui didn't like clubs after being felt up in one, and Kaga didn't want to be thrown out again for beating up other patrons. Oh well, Kaga thought, at least he'll spend the night at Tsutsui's, even if it meant going through calculus and all those bothersome things. Tsutsui huffed and ignored him, for the lecture just begun.
He looked at Tsutsui, really looked, and idly noted the faint flush of annoyance extended below his collar. He still remembered how far that blush could go once Tsutsui was tipsy, because he got Tsutsui drunk right before they graduated high school. Too bad that only ended up in a surprise midnight swim in the school pool.
He wished he could get Tsutsui that drunk again. Tsutsui and alcohol meant no inhibitions and unpredictable outcomes, but for once, he wanted surprises.
Tsutsui hissed, "Kaga. Pay attention now!"
"I am." And he was telling the truth for once. He paid attention to the fraction of an inch between his seat and Tsutsui's, knowing he never sat so close with anyone else.
Or that the boys in his drunken one night stands all wear glasses.
"Tsutsui," he whispered. "You don't mind if I bring some beer tonight, do you?"
Tsutsui paused at his notetaking. Finally he said, "Bring whatever you want."
Kaga grinned, and plotted on getting Tsutsui to get his shirt off, and do much, much more.
Broken Troika
They make an odd group, uneasy and never equal, because Ochi doesn't join in their fun, and Waya never likes Ochi in the first place, saying he was too stuck up by half. Isumi doesn't like Ochi that much either, but he never says it aloud for he know how easily careless words can break down someone's resolve.
Waya hangs around Isumi, because Isumi is a friend even away from the go board and game reviews, and will to treat him to sushi after lousy games to cheer him up. And in return he sits beside Isumi as the older boy quietly falls apart and comes together to fight another battle with the demons in his head. He glares at Ochi when the younger boy makes Isumi falter, and mutely watches as Ochi goes home alone every session.
Waya thinks Ochi would be better overall if he'll stop being an ass about go and learn about stuff like video games and other things teenagers like. There is life away from go after all. And he knows there isn't a way to like Isumi more without going into do-not-go-there-we're-best-friends-only territory.
Ochi sees them as catalysts for his improvement. Waya's words cut him, but he grits his teeth and pushes himself harder, trying to overtake Isumi. Let Waya flail and say he was doing better than him, but Ochi looks at their records and the tangible proof he can beat Waya at their games. Isumi is his stepping stone, and is sensible even when he suffers through a lack of self-belief.
Ochi thinks he'll like them more if Isumi will be more aggressive at their games, and if Waya will be less. Or if Waya will just stop treating him like a kid just because he was years younger. He does know how to have fun, except his definition of fun doesn't jive with the other boy.
Isumi never shows his thoughts about their odd triumvirate, but he does breathe a sigh of relief when loudmouthed Shindou joins the insei and balances things a little and Ochi walks away and finds a connection with Honda and the rest. He sees it more clearly, and knows change will have to come gradually in the influence of others. For Waya to learn not to live as if life is a battle. For Ochi to learn how to connect to people as friends rather than rivals. For himself, to learn from them both and believe in his ability to live and play. Shindou coming in frees them from microscoping their lives around each other, giving them room to breathe and grow.
He hopes one day they can all sit down just talk about the game over sushi or ramen, or maybe a cup of coffee, look at each other and smile. Facing each other beyond the board. Maybe on the road to be friends.