[One-shot] Coming Home (Hikaru no Go)
Title: Coming Home
Characters: Iijima Ryou
Wordcount/Rating: 850+ words / G
Summary: Two weeks after the insei examinations, Iijima doesn't take his usual train home.
Author's Notes: Now, after some time spent on it, I think I understand why the Chuo-Sobu line has the highest incidences of delays due to suicide attempts in Tokyo. There's just something about the atmosphere there. ETA: This fic was recorded for ihikago by macey_muse!
Two weeks after the insei examinations, Iijima doesn't take his usual train home.
That day he is a little later than usual. He takes his time leaving the Ki-in, waiting for the sounds of people to fade. It isn't difficult; Iijima is usually reserved, and unless he walks along with the others, they don't often wait for him. Normally Shindou or Fukui turns to look at him, but today, as it has been for the past two weeks, they talk of go, of pros, of the future. He leaves a full thirty minutes after everyone else, and only when Shinoda-sensei speaks to him from the door.
You're still here?
Sensei? It's nothing. I wanted to think about the game. Excuse me for intruding; I should be off.
It's dark outside the Ki-in. He takes the train at Ichigaya, Suica beeping as he passes through the ticket gates. He stands in the middle of the platform and listens to schoolgirls converse behind him--and then I told him he was too late, hah! You should have seen the look on his face, he--as he looks out at the river running beside the tracks.
It's busy today; the platform is crowded as usual. Iijima watches people jostle each other. People push and rub shoulders. Some salarymen tell each other jokes. Iijima listens to them but doesn't find anything funny.
No one touches him or looks in his direction.
When the train pulls into the station, Iijima gets on without caring which one it is. After the train doors close, he looks up at the route information above the doors. It isn't his usual train--this one is the Sobu line.
He gets off at Kanda. Kanda station is like Ichigaya, crowded and noisy. It is also confusing, but Iijima doesn't really care. He doesn't have a destination in mind.
He transfers to the Yamanote. It's still crowded, but he manages a spot by the doors, and stands there, eyes looking outside. He keeps riding. The thought occurs to him: I could just keep riding and changing trains, and never get out.
After Tokyo, Shinagawa is the next big interchange. The skies are darker now, but the platform is just as crowded. Iijima gets off the Yamanote and moves automatically with the rest of the passengers, taking the escalator up to the main station floor.
The impetus to move leaves him as the crowd he followed disperses for their respective transfers. Iijima moves to the side of the pedestrian path and sets his bag down. He watches as people rush past, wondering why everyone else is in a hurry when he isn't.
Should I be?
He cannot muster up the energy, and continues to watch the world pass by.
His cellphone rings, surprising him.
Where are you, Ryou? Do you know what time it is?
He doesn't, actually, and looks. I'm in Shinagawa.
Why?
He doesn't know, and silence fills the emptiness between them.
Come home, Ryou, his mother says at last. It's late.
I can't.
Why not?
I just can't. Not right now.
When, then? Dinner will get cold, and your father will be angry.
That's nothing new. I've always been a disappointment anyway.
Over the imperfect connection, he can feel his mother pause. Ryou, she says, and this plea is stronger that any one that has come before.
Mother, I ... can't.
Iijima listens to the train announcements--train towards Shibuya now arriving at Platform 2; please stand behind the yellow line--and the words neither of them say. He wonders what his mother is thinking.
She finally speaks. I'll tell him you're studying at Honda-kun's.
Thank you, Mother.
Ryou, she says again. He can hear her fear. You'll come home tomorrow, right? It's just an exam. There's always next year.
Perhaps. He might be able to. This isn't about the examinations, though he lets her think it is. It's easier than explaining. I understand, Mother. I'll try. I'll be home in time for class on Monday. He can promise that much.
He ponders buying a ticket for the Shinkansen. Perhaps he can ask them to turn off all the lights, and then sit and look out the window at the night. Perhaps he will be able to sit there, mind blank, until the morning sun. But the Shinkansen does not run night trains except to Hokkaido, and even Iijima balks at the thought of that.
He stays in Shinagawa, leaning against some railing. People come and go before his eyes.
Hours later--Iijima doesn't know how many hours--the station is quieter. Now he can hear footsteps echo. He looks at his watch. It is almost midnight. The thought occurs to him, and he asks a station conductor when the last train is.
If he takes the next train, he can make the connection.
As he waits on the platform, he calls.
I'm coming home.
He's late, but his mother hugs him as he walks in the door.
Characters: Iijima Ryou
Wordcount/Rating: 850+ words / G
Summary: Two weeks after the insei examinations, Iijima doesn't take his usual train home.
Author's Notes: Now, after some time spent on it, I think I understand why the Chuo-Sobu line has the highest incidences of delays due to suicide attempts in Tokyo. There's just something about the atmosphere there. ETA: This fic was recorded for ihikago by macey_muse!
Two weeks after the insei examinations, Iijima doesn't take his usual train home.
That day he is a little later than usual. He takes his time leaving the Ki-in, waiting for the sounds of people to fade. It isn't difficult; Iijima is usually reserved, and unless he walks along with the others, they don't often wait for him. Normally Shindou or Fukui turns to look at him, but today, as it has been for the past two weeks, they talk of go, of pros, of the future. He leaves a full thirty minutes after everyone else, and only when Shinoda-sensei speaks to him from the door.
You're still here?
Sensei? It's nothing. I wanted to think about the game. Excuse me for intruding; I should be off.
It's dark outside the Ki-in. He takes the train at Ichigaya, Suica beeping as he passes through the ticket gates. He stands in the middle of the platform and listens to schoolgirls converse behind him--and then I told him he was too late, hah! You should have seen the look on his face, he--as he looks out at the river running beside the tracks.
It's busy today; the platform is crowded as usual. Iijima watches people jostle each other. People push and rub shoulders. Some salarymen tell each other jokes. Iijima listens to them but doesn't find anything funny.
No one touches him or looks in his direction.
When the train pulls into the station, Iijima gets on without caring which one it is. After the train doors close, he looks up at the route information above the doors. It isn't his usual train--this one is the Sobu line.
He gets off at Kanda. Kanda station is like Ichigaya, crowded and noisy. It is also confusing, but Iijima doesn't really care. He doesn't have a destination in mind.
He transfers to the Yamanote. It's still crowded, but he manages a spot by the doors, and stands there, eyes looking outside. He keeps riding. The thought occurs to him: I could just keep riding and changing trains, and never get out.
After Tokyo, Shinagawa is the next big interchange. The skies are darker now, but the platform is just as crowded. Iijima gets off the Yamanote and moves automatically with the rest of the passengers, taking the escalator up to the main station floor.
The impetus to move leaves him as the crowd he followed disperses for their respective transfers. Iijima moves to the side of the pedestrian path and sets his bag down. He watches as people rush past, wondering why everyone else is in a hurry when he isn't.
Should I be?
He cannot muster up the energy, and continues to watch the world pass by.
His cellphone rings, surprising him.
Where are you, Ryou? Do you know what time it is?
He doesn't, actually, and looks. I'm in Shinagawa.
Why?
He doesn't know, and silence fills the emptiness between them.
Come home, Ryou, his mother says at last. It's late.
I can't.
Why not?
I just can't. Not right now.
When, then? Dinner will get cold, and your father will be angry.
That's nothing new. I've always been a disappointment anyway.
Over the imperfect connection, he can feel his mother pause. Ryou, she says, and this plea is stronger that any one that has come before.
Mother, I ... can't.
Iijima listens to the train announcements--train towards Shibuya now arriving at Platform 2; please stand behind the yellow line--and the words neither of them say. He wonders what his mother is thinking.
She finally speaks. I'll tell him you're studying at Honda-kun's.
Thank you, Mother.
Ryou, she says again. He can hear her fear. You'll come home tomorrow, right? It's just an exam. There's always next year.
Perhaps. He might be able to. This isn't about the examinations, though he lets her think it is. It's easier than explaining. I understand, Mother. I'll try. I'll be home in time for class on Monday. He can promise that much.
He ponders buying a ticket for the Shinkansen. Perhaps he can ask them to turn off all the lights, and then sit and look out the window at the night. Perhaps he will be able to sit there, mind blank, until the morning sun. But the Shinkansen does not run night trains except to Hokkaido, and even Iijima balks at the thought of that.
He stays in Shinagawa, leaning against some railing. People come and go before his eyes.
Hours later--Iijima doesn't know how many hours--the station is quieter. Now he can hear footsteps echo. He looks at his watch. It is almost midnight. The thought occurs to him, and he asks a station conductor when the last train is.
If he takes the next train, he can make the connection.
As he waits on the platform, he calls.
I'm coming home.
He's late, but his mother hugs him as he walks in the door.