[Fic] Crossing Boundaries 7/7 (Hikaru no Go) - END
Title: Crossing Boundaries 7/7 (END) (Chapter 7: Resolution)
Authors: aiwritingfic and chaineddove
Characters: Isumi, Le Ping, Yang Hai
Words/Rating: 3100+ words / PG-13
Summary: Isumi is stuck with the notion that Le Ping is a kid. Le Ping, unfortunately, has other ideas.
Author's Notes: Finally, the end. Dedicated to DDR Supernova (chaineddove) and Phoenix Wright (aiwritingfic). Ending notes at the bottom!
Previous chapters: Mistranslation, Resolve, Shift, Delusion, Correspondence, Assertion.
Later he would wonder what he had been thinking. At the moment, though, Isumi's mind didn't seem able to function beyond the most basic of thoughts. He's so close was the first one, which was followed by His lips are soft.
Then it moved into Oh, a quiet, wondering sort of Oh, as Isumi felt himself reacting to the kiss with a hesitant response.
That seemed to encourage Le Ping, because all Isumi remembered of the next few moments was soft sweetness, breathless dizziness, and a gentle insistent heat.
When Le Ping finally pulled away, the first coherent thought to emerge from Isumi's mouth was, "Le Ping ... you kissed me." He gaped, hand moving up to touch his lips.
Le Ping still looked nervous, but he did manage a smile. "I did," he said, as if it needed corroboration. "I think I'd like to do it again."
"You would?" Isumi repeated, remembering to close his mouth. His heart was still racing, and he could hear faint thumping in the back of his mind.
"I would," Le Ping said. "But I won't unless you want me to. That was my prize for winning the game--you said I could have whatever I wanted."
"I did," Isumi said, a little dazedly. Part of his mind noted how tightly how stiffly Le Ping was holding his hands in his lap. "And all that, you did because ... "--that incredible game, those reckless, nothing-to-lose hands--"you just wanted to kiss me." It might have been a question, but Isumi wasn't quite sure how to process this at the moment.
"I've been wanting to kiss you for awhile. It just never seemed like a good idea." Le Ping shrugged. He looked away, eyes not meeting Isumi's. "I'm still not sure it was a good idea, but I wanted to, and you said I could, so I did. You... didn't like it?"
It wasn't that he hadn't liked it--in fact, Isumi had, and that was the problem right there. He felt his cheeks heat up as he tried to think of what to say next.
Calm down, Shinichirou. Focus. Separate yourself from the situation at hand. The Isumi Shinichirou Le Ping just kissed isn't the same Isumi Shinichirou as the one thinking.
When Isumi opened his mouth, he was proud to hear his voice was steady, even if his heart thumped loudly in his chest. "Le Ping, you said you've been wanting to kiss me for awhile." Isumi paused, trying to think back, but coming up blank. "Since when?"
The answer was very quiet when it came a few moments later. "About three years ago, I guess."
Three years. "Oh," Isumi said, thinking back three years. All those 'mistakes' Le Ping had made, all those demands and requests, and Yang Hai's veiled and not-so-veiled hints ... Allowing himself to see it now, Isumi wondered how he had managed to avoid doing or saying anything before.
Taking a deep breath helped. So did closing his eyes for two seconds. When he re-opened them, Isumi focused on Le Ping's shirt. Then he realized Le Ping's fists, both of them, were balled so tightly his knuckles were showing white through the skin, and that Le Ping was fidgeting stiffly. Le Ping's eyes were trained on Isumi's face, and when Isumi met them, Le Ping visibly blanched, but held his ground.
He's frightened, Isumi realized. He's afraid of something, and yet he doesn't want me to know. But what was Le Ping afraid of?
You... didn't like it?
Was that what was worrying Le Ping, then?
Le Ping was waiting for an answer, Isumi realized. But what sort of answer could he give? I did, Le Ping, very much, because I've had inappropriate thoughts about you? Completely out of the question; Isumi would be corrupting Le Ping, and Le Ping was too innocent for that. In fact, did Le Ping really know what he was getting into? It was one thing to want to play another player badly, and Le Ping seemed to want to play Isumi as often as possible, but that was normal, right? Wasn't this just a form of hero-worship, misplaced and flattering though it might be?
Three years, Isumi's mind said.
Isumi couldn't remember idolizing anyone for that long to that degree. For a while he'd been somewhat in awe of Yang Hai, yes, but that had worn away with time and constant exposure to Yang Hai's rather unique sense of humor. There had been Touya-sensei, and Ogata-sensei, and Kurata-sensei, but periods of starstruck obsession were few and far in between, and tended to settle into pure admiration for their go very quickly.
Le Ping's waiting for an answer, his mind nudged.
Isumi looked at Le Ping's anxious face, and then he reached out a hand to cover Le Ping's fist. "You don't have to clench them so hard," he said, quietly. "I'm not going to run away."
A look of intense relief flooded over Le Ping's face. "You aren't?"
He isn't as afraid anymore, Isumi thought, feeling the fists unclench a little. He has wanted this a long time, hasn't he? Seeing the look on Le Ping's face and the note of hope in Le Ping's voice, Isumi couldn't help but smile. "No, I'm not," he said, nodding, squeezing Le Ping's fist lightly. "And... yes, I liked it." It was difficult to say the words without feeling his cheeks heat further, but it wasn't fair to let Le Ping worry any longer.
"Then..." For the first time since Isumi had arrived in China, Le Ping seemed to be at a loss for words. "You wouldn't mind if I did it again?"
"You want to kiss me again?" Isumi asked, surprised. Then he realized just how inane that sounded--in fact, how inane everything he'd said since the first kiss sounded, and he looked away, reddening further. Of course Le Ping did, or he wouldn't have asked, right? The question was, did Isumi want to? It hadn't been a bad kiss at all. Not that Isumi had had many opportunities to kiss before, but he doubted head-spinning was a sign of a bad kiss. Most importantly, he didn't want to see the shine in Le Ping's eyes go away.
Yes, Isumi did want more. "I mean, I wouldn't mind, if you want to ... that is, it's all up to you, Le Ping, I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do, and Yang Hai would kill me if I hurt you. Not that I'm afraid of Yang Hai," Isumi hastened to add, "But I don't want to hurt you by leading you into something like this before you're old enough to make up your mi--"
"Isumi," Le Ping said with another sigh. "Shut up."
Isumi stopped talking, surprised. Le Ping had never in all their years of acquaintance spoken to him this way.
"First," Le Ping said, giving Isumi an exaperated look, "I am not a small child. I am taller than you and I just beat you at go and I am the one who kissed you. Second, this is not about Yang Hai, so can we stop bringing him into everything? He's my friend too, but honestly it's getting annoying. I mean..." he fidgeted, looking nervous again. "I'm not just Yang Hai's tag-along. Really. And you haven't mentioned him yet, but before you do, I'm not Waya, either. I'm me." He looked extremely vulnerable, suddenly. "Is that not enough?"
That hadn't actually been Isumi's point. It was just that every time Isumi looked at Le Ping, he saw the Le Ping who had clung to him and pestered him for one more match, the one who had refused to concede defeat to Isumi after every turn, who'd called Isumi from China regularly once Yang Hai had figured out how to make free voice calls over the Internet, sounding so pleased to speak to him. In all the years he'd known him, Le Ping had never once tired of his company, and had always been looking for more. Isumi hadn't done his part in the friendship (or whatever it was), either--it had always been Le Ping.
In a moment of uncomfortable clarity, Isumi realized just how badly he'd already hurt Le Ping.
He squeezed Le Ping's hand. "Le Ping, I've never thought you were Yang Hai's tag-along, or that you were Waya." He'd certainly seen them both together often enough, but always as mutual friends. "You've grown up, Le Ping, and I've been ignoring that. I'm sorry if I've hurt you with anything I said." Though there was no way he could admit to Le Ping that he'd thought Waya was Le Ping for awhile.
"That isn't the point either, though if you like, I forgive you," Le Ping said. "I guess it's just been bugging me because..."
Le Ping paused, and Isumi waited. He squeezed Le Ping's hand, and Le Ping squeezed back, but no words were said. Isumi let Le Ping think, though; it gave him more time to marshall his own thoughts, already confused and whirling as they were.
After a while, Le Ping continued. "I have no idea anymore. What do you actually think of me? Are you going to let me kiss you again because you don't like to say no, or are you going to let me kiss you again because you want me to?"
"Le Ping!" Isumi said, more surprised than anything else. He gaped for a moment before remembering to close his mouth, but it was difficult to stop staring wide-eyed at the other boy--no, not boy. A boy wouldn't have said something like that. It had been easy for Isumi to say Le Ping had grown up, but only now did Isumi realize just how much. He had the uncomfortable feeling he was definitely not the more mature one in the room. And? What's the mature thing to do, Shinichirou, when you find out that someone you care about very much cares about you very much too? Now he was faced with a Le Ping who was most definitely not barely-reaching-shoulder-height any more, whose face had lost the roundness of baby fat, who was giving Isumi that look that meant he was being serious and he'd kick Isumi if he said anything to push this off as a joke.
He wished there was tesuji for this sort of situation, to prepare oneself for when your heart wanted to say yes and your brain wanted you to slow down and think carefully before proceeding. He opened his mouth. "I want you to, Le Ping. I ju--..." There really was no other appropriate way to say this, Isumi thought, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Le Ping, I have to confess something."
"Confess?" Le Ping sounded confused, as though this was the last thing he had thought to hear. "Okay. What?"
It was actually a lot more difficult to say this now that he had to. Isumi wondered just how Le Ping had managed this without knowing how Isumi felt, because it was rather clear how Le Ping felt, and had always been clear, in hindsight. That didn't make things any easier. "I've been thinking about you a lot, Le Ping, but I've always thought it was vastly inappropriate of me to do so, especially considering how much younger than me you are. It wasn't easy to remind myself to act like a senpai all the time, especially when I kept thinking all the hints--they were hints, right?--were just my wishful thinking. Hearing that you actually mean what you say makes me very happy, Le Ping, but now I don't know what to do. I've always tried to act according to the situation, but I can't think of what's suitable right now."
Le Ping's tremulous smile was back. "Then maybe... Maybe instead of thinking about doing what is suitable, you should just do what you want?"
"Without considering the consequences?" Isumi asked, somewhat taken aback.
"Yes," Le Ping said, as though this was the simplest thing in the world. "I trust you."
What Isumi wanted was to kiss Le Ping. But ...
But what?
Isumi looked at Le Ping, who continued to smile, though Isumi could tell from the way Le Ping's eyes were darting and the slight tremor of Le Ping's hands that it was costing him a great deal of energy and concentration just to stay that way.
Le Ping, Isumi thought.
He took a breath, and then leaned forward and kissed Le Ping back.
It was dark by the time they exited Le Ping's room again.
Le Ping's phone beeped as they were in the elevator. Isumi watched as Le Ping pulled out the phone, read the message, and then slammed the phone shut less than half a second later. "What's the matter?" Isumi asked, laying a hand on Le Ping's shoulder.
"Nothing," Le Ping muttered, looking annoyed, though he did reach up to grasp Isumi's hand. "Yang Hai's just a stupid idiot."
So it had been a message from Yang Hai. Le Ping's response to the message meant Yang Hai had probably said something inappropriate. Isumi squeezed Le Ping's shoulder. Then the elevator door opened, and Yang Hai stepped in.
Yang Hai paused for a fraction of a second, taking in the scene before him, and then his eyes zeroed in on Isumi's hand, and a big grin spread over his face. "Congratulations!" he said, meeting Isumi's eyes with an exaggerated wink. The door closed behind them and the elevator continued downwards. "So, how was it?" Yang Hai asked, still grinning.
Isumi was trying to understand the question when Le Ping snapped, "It's none of your business!"
The grin wavered. "You mean... he... oh, but you shouldn't expect much the first time... but I thought you'd be..."
"SHUT UP!" Le Ping said, startling Isumi, who jumped.
Putting together Le Ping's reactions with a possible interpretation of those words, Isumi blushed bright red. "Yang Hai-san!" he protested. "I-- You-- We-- It wasn't like that! We didn't!"
Yang Hai held up his hands. "Okay, all right, I'm sorry, I was only teasing you two," he said, backed up against the elevator door. "But ... you two worked it out, right? No more tip-toeing? No more Yang-Hai-help-me-with-Isumi?"
Le Ping glared at him. "Right now? Not helping," he said.
"It's all right, Le Ping," Isumi said, and he smiled at Yang Hai. "Yang Hai-san, thank you for all your support and help. Please continue to do so in the future."
"See? Isumi-kun wasn't embarassed," Yang Hai said, giving Le Ping a look. "Stop being a blushing bride, or Isumi-kun won't want you anymore."
"Yang Hai-san!" Isumi protested. "Don't tease him like that! Of course I wi--" Isumi cut himself off, realizing how that could be construed in a few different ways, and not wanting Yang Hai to get the wrong idea. "Le Ping's fine the way he is, and any way he wants to be," he said firmly, meeting Yang Hai's eyes levelly (even if his cheeks still burned).
"Oho," Yang Hai said, and the grin grew wider. "That's the Isumi-kun we know and love. Don't change, whatever you do, okay, Isumi-kun? Even if you can be a little slow at times. Hey, Le Ping, let's buy your new boyfriend some dinner. We need to show the Japanese what Chinese food really tastes like."
Japan reigned triumphant in the Hokuto Cup. Le Ping won both his matches. Ko Yongha and Yashiro were discovered necking in a broom closet, Yashiro in a scandalous state of undress.
Yang Hai beat Kurata in a demonstration match, but Kurata promptly reclaimed the victory in a rematch that involved immense quantities of Chinese beer and far too many plates of Chinese food. Shindou and Touya appeared in a Chinese tabloid, a blurry photo that seemed as if they were holding hands.
Waya e-mailed Isumi with far too much information about Morishita Shigeko, and in the same e-mails, asked even more questions about Le Ping.
Zhao Shi presented Oka with a bouquet of flowers as the Japanese delegation left, and Oka's cheeks threatened to match their brilliant red.
Every night, Isumi fell asleep to red hair tickling his chin, and woke up to a comforting weight on his chest and a sleepy pair of arms clinging about his waist.
All too soon, Isumi was back in his one-room apartment. It felt so different and unfamiliar now, though he'd only been in China a week. A letter from the Go Institute informing him of the changes to his upcoming schedule lay on the floor under the mail slot, and Isumi picked it up, placing it on the table next to a goban with a light film of dust on it. He walked to the window, pulled the curtains open, and winced as the early-afternoon sunlight bounced off the office windows opposite his.
His chest hurt faintly, and he wondered what Le Ping was doing.
His phone beeped. Isumi looked at it blankly before registering the e-mail light. He opened it, reading 1 new e-mail absently, pressing a key to open it.
Dear Isumi,
Welcome home! Only not, because your home should be where I am. I understand that you have to play your matches, but I miss you already! You should hurry up and win some titles. Then you can retire and move to China. The cost of living here is a lot cheaper than in Japan anyway, and if you live near the Go Institute there will be many people lining up to play against you. Of course, you won't play them often, because you will be playing me, right? I will be a title-holder too, someday, and there will be many matches against each other.
Since you had to leave me to play it, you'd better win your next match! We'll be cheering for you here. I love you.
Le Ping
With a smile, Isumi keyed in a reply. He read it again, sent it, and then put the phone away and began to unpack.
- The end -
Ending notes:
chaineddove says: "I'm sorry this took so long, as it is entirely my fault. If aiwritingfic hadn't kept poking me it might never have gotten done, so everyone thank her. I hope you enjoyed this. It seems to have taken root in fandom and I've seen a few other fics featuring this pairing lately, which makes me really happy! I'm glad someone else thinks my slightly cracky idea is adorable ♥"
aiwritingfic says: "I'm both relieved and sad to see the end; of course I'm sad that it's finished, but I must say, I hate time zones. O_o The reception has been so heartening and the biggest motivator for us, and personally it has made staying up to 5am waiting for Maaya so we could write together so worth it some days. Please keep reading/writing Hikago, and keep Isumi in your thoughts always. ^_~ I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as we enjoyed writing it!"
Authors: aiwritingfic and chaineddove
Characters: Isumi, Le Ping, Yang Hai
Words/Rating: 3100+ words / PG-13
Summary: Isumi is stuck with the notion that Le Ping is a kid. Le Ping, unfortunately, has other ideas.
Author's Notes: Finally, the end. Dedicated to DDR Supernova (chaineddove) and Phoenix Wright (aiwritingfic). Ending notes at the bottom!
Previous chapters: Mistranslation, Resolve, Shift, Delusion, Correspondence, Assertion.
Later he would wonder what he had been thinking. At the moment, though, Isumi's mind didn't seem able to function beyond the most basic of thoughts. He's so close was the first one, which was followed by His lips are soft.
Then it moved into Oh, a quiet, wondering sort of Oh, as Isumi felt himself reacting to the kiss with a hesitant response.
That seemed to encourage Le Ping, because all Isumi remembered of the next few moments was soft sweetness, breathless dizziness, and a gentle insistent heat.
When Le Ping finally pulled away, the first coherent thought to emerge from Isumi's mouth was, "Le Ping ... you kissed me." He gaped, hand moving up to touch his lips.
Le Ping still looked nervous, but he did manage a smile. "I did," he said, as if it needed corroboration. "I think I'd like to do it again."
"You would?" Isumi repeated, remembering to close his mouth. His heart was still racing, and he could hear faint thumping in the back of his mind.
"I would," Le Ping said. "But I won't unless you want me to. That was my prize for winning the game--you said I could have whatever I wanted."
"I did," Isumi said, a little dazedly. Part of his mind noted how tightly how stiffly Le Ping was holding his hands in his lap. "And all that, you did because ... "--that incredible game, those reckless, nothing-to-lose hands--"you just wanted to kiss me." It might have been a question, but Isumi wasn't quite sure how to process this at the moment.
"I've been wanting to kiss you for awhile. It just never seemed like a good idea." Le Ping shrugged. He looked away, eyes not meeting Isumi's. "I'm still not sure it was a good idea, but I wanted to, and you said I could, so I did. You... didn't like it?"
It wasn't that he hadn't liked it--in fact, Isumi had, and that was the problem right there. He felt his cheeks heat up as he tried to think of what to say next.
Calm down, Shinichirou. Focus. Separate yourself from the situation at hand. The Isumi Shinichirou Le Ping just kissed isn't the same Isumi Shinichirou as the one thinking.
When Isumi opened his mouth, he was proud to hear his voice was steady, even if his heart thumped loudly in his chest. "Le Ping, you said you've been wanting to kiss me for awhile." Isumi paused, trying to think back, but coming up blank. "Since when?"
The answer was very quiet when it came a few moments later. "About three years ago, I guess."
Three years. "Oh," Isumi said, thinking back three years. All those 'mistakes' Le Ping had made, all those demands and requests, and Yang Hai's veiled and not-so-veiled hints ... Allowing himself to see it now, Isumi wondered how he had managed to avoid doing or saying anything before.
Taking a deep breath helped. So did closing his eyes for two seconds. When he re-opened them, Isumi focused on Le Ping's shirt. Then he realized Le Ping's fists, both of them, were balled so tightly his knuckles were showing white through the skin, and that Le Ping was fidgeting stiffly. Le Ping's eyes were trained on Isumi's face, and when Isumi met them, Le Ping visibly blanched, but held his ground.
He's frightened, Isumi realized. He's afraid of something, and yet he doesn't want me to know. But what was Le Ping afraid of?
You... didn't like it?
Was that what was worrying Le Ping, then?
Le Ping was waiting for an answer, Isumi realized. But what sort of answer could he give? I did, Le Ping, very much, because I've had inappropriate thoughts about you? Completely out of the question; Isumi would be corrupting Le Ping, and Le Ping was too innocent for that. In fact, did Le Ping really know what he was getting into? It was one thing to want to play another player badly, and Le Ping seemed to want to play Isumi as often as possible, but that was normal, right? Wasn't this just a form of hero-worship, misplaced and flattering though it might be?
Three years, Isumi's mind said.
Isumi couldn't remember idolizing anyone for that long to that degree. For a while he'd been somewhat in awe of Yang Hai, yes, but that had worn away with time and constant exposure to Yang Hai's rather unique sense of humor. There had been Touya-sensei, and Ogata-sensei, and Kurata-sensei, but periods of starstruck obsession were few and far in between, and tended to settle into pure admiration for their go very quickly.
Le Ping's waiting for an answer, his mind nudged.
Isumi looked at Le Ping's anxious face, and then he reached out a hand to cover Le Ping's fist. "You don't have to clench them so hard," he said, quietly. "I'm not going to run away."
A look of intense relief flooded over Le Ping's face. "You aren't?"
He isn't as afraid anymore, Isumi thought, feeling the fists unclench a little. He has wanted this a long time, hasn't he? Seeing the look on Le Ping's face and the note of hope in Le Ping's voice, Isumi couldn't help but smile. "No, I'm not," he said, nodding, squeezing Le Ping's fist lightly. "And... yes, I liked it." It was difficult to say the words without feeling his cheeks heat further, but it wasn't fair to let Le Ping worry any longer.
"Then..." For the first time since Isumi had arrived in China, Le Ping seemed to be at a loss for words. "You wouldn't mind if I did it again?"
"You want to kiss me again?" Isumi asked, surprised. Then he realized just how inane that sounded--in fact, how inane everything he'd said since the first kiss sounded, and he looked away, reddening further. Of course Le Ping did, or he wouldn't have asked, right? The question was, did Isumi want to? It hadn't been a bad kiss at all. Not that Isumi had had many opportunities to kiss before, but he doubted head-spinning was a sign of a bad kiss. Most importantly, he didn't want to see the shine in Le Ping's eyes go away.
Yes, Isumi did want more. "I mean, I wouldn't mind, if you want to ... that is, it's all up to you, Le Ping, I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do, and Yang Hai would kill me if I hurt you. Not that I'm afraid of Yang Hai," Isumi hastened to add, "But I don't want to hurt you by leading you into something like this before you're old enough to make up your mi--"
"Isumi," Le Ping said with another sigh. "Shut up."
Isumi stopped talking, surprised. Le Ping had never in all their years of acquaintance spoken to him this way.
"First," Le Ping said, giving Isumi an exaperated look, "I am not a small child. I am taller than you and I just beat you at go and I am the one who kissed you. Second, this is not about Yang Hai, so can we stop bringing him into everything? He's my friend too, but honestly it's getting annoying. I mean..." he fidgeted, looking nervous again. "I'm not just Yang Hai's tag-along. Really. And you haven't mentioned him yet, but before you do, I'm not Waya, either. I'm me." He looked extremely vulnerable, suddenly. "Is that not enough?"
That hadn't actually been Isumi's point. It was just that every time Isumi looked at Le Ping, he saw the Le Ping who had clung to him and pestered him for one more match, the one who had refused to concede defeat to Isumi after every turn, who'd called Isumi from China regularly once Yang Hai had figured out how to make free voice calls over the Internet, sounding so pleased to speak to him. In all the years he'd known him, Le Ping had never once tired of his company, and had always been looking for more. Isumi hadn't done his part in the friendship (or whatever it was), either--it had always been Le Ping.
In a moment of uncomfortable clarity, Isumi realized just how badly he'd already hurt Le Ping.
He squeezed Le Ping's hand. "Le Ping, I've never thought you were Yang Hai's tag-along, or that you were Waya." He'd certainly seen them both together often enough, but always as mutual friends. "You've grown up, Le Ping, and I've been ignoring that. I'm sorry if I've hurt you with anything I said." Though there was no way he could admit to Le Ping that he'd thought Waya was Le Ping for awhile.
"That isn't the point either, though if you like, I forgive you," Le Ping said. "I guess it's just been bugging me because..."
Le Ping paused, and Isumi waited. He squeezed Le Ping's hand, and Le Ping squeezed back, but no words were said. Isumi let Le Ping think, though; it gave him more time to marshall his own thoughts, already confused and whirling as they were.
After a while, Le Ping continued. "I have no idea anymore. What do you actually think of me? Are you going to let me kiss you again because you don't like to say no, or are you going to let me kiss you again because you want me to?"
"Le Ping!" Isumi said, more surprised than anything else. He gaped for a moment before remembering to close his mouth, but it was difficult to stop staring wide-eyed at the other boy--no, not boy. A boy wouldn't have said something like that. It had been easy for Isumi to say Le Ping had grown up, but only now did Isumi realize just how much. He had the uncomfortable feeling he was definitely not the more mature one in the room. And? What's the mature thing to do, Shinichirou, when you find out that someone you care about very much cares about you very much too? Now he was faced with a Le Ping who was most definitely not barely-reaching-shoulder-height any more, whose face had lost the roundness of baby fat, who was giving Isumi that look that meant he was being serious and he'd kick Isumi if he said anything to push this off as a joke.
He wished there was tesuji for this sort of situation, to prepare oneself for when your heart wanted to say yes and your brain wanted you to slow down and think carefully before proceeding. He opened his mouth. "I want you to, Le Ping. I ju--..." There really was no other appropriate way to say this, Isumi thought, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Le Ping, I have to confess something."
"Confess?" Le Ping sounded confused, as though this was the last thing he had thought to hear. "Okay. What?"
It was actually a lot more difficult to say this now that he had to. Isumi wondered just how Le Ping had managed this without knowing how Isumi felt, because it was rather clear how Le Ping felt, and had always been clear, in hindsight. That didn't make things any easier. "I've been thinking about you a lot, Le Ping, but I've always thought it was vastly inappropriate of me to do so, especially considering how much younger than me you are. It wasn't easy to remind myself to act like a senpai all the time, especially when I kept thinking all the hints--they were hints, right?--were just my wishful thinking. Hearing that you actually mean what you say makes me very happy, Le Ping, but now I don't know what to do. I've always tried to act according to the situation, but I can't think of what's suitable right now."
Le Ping's tremulous smile was back. "Then maybe... Maybe instead of thinking about doing what is suitable, you should just do what you want?"
"Without considering the consequences?" Isumi asked, somewhat taken aback.
"Yes," Le Ping said, as though this was the simplest thing in the world. "I trust you."
What Isumi wanted was to kiss Le Ping. But ...
But what?
Isumi looked at Le Ping, who continued to smile, though Isumi could tell from the way Le Ping's eyes were darting and the slight tremor of Le Ping's hands that it was costing him a great deal of energy and concentration just to stay that way.
Le Ping, Isumi thought.
He took a breath, and then leaned forward and kissed Le Ping back.
It was dark by the time they exited Le Ping's room again.
Le Ping's phone beeped as they were in the elevator. Isumi watched as Le Ping pulled out the phone, read the message, and then slammed the phone shut less than half a second later. "What's the matter?" Isumi asked, laying a hand on Le Ping's shoulder.
"Nothing," Le Ping muttered, looking annoyed, though he did reach up to grasp Isumi's hand. "Yang Hai's just a stupid idiot."
So it had been a message from Yang Hai. Le Ping's response to the message meant Yang Hai had probably said something inappropriate. Isumi squeezed Le Ping's shoulder. Then the elevator door opened, and Yang Hai stepped in.
Yang Hai paused for a fraction of a second, taking in the scene before him, and then his eyes zeroed in on Isumi's hand, and a big grin spread over his face. "Congratulations!" he said, meeting Isumi's eyes with an exaggerated wink. The door closed behind them and the elevator continued downwards. "So, how was it?" Yang Hai asked, still grinning.
Isumi was trying to understand the question when Le Ping snapped, "It's none of your business!"
The grin wavered. "You mean... he... oh, but you shouldn't expect much the first time... but I thought you'd be..."
"SHUT UP!" Le Ping said, startling Isumi, who jumped.
Putting together Le Ping's reactions with a possible interpretation of those words, Isumi blushed bright red. "Yang Hai-san!" he protested. "I-- You-- We-- It wasn't like that! We didn't!"
Yang Hai held up his hands. "Okay, all right, I'm sorry, I was only teasing you two," he said, backed up against the elevator door. "But ... you two worked it out, right? No more tip-toeing? No more Yang-Hai-help-me-with-Isumi?"
Le Ping glared at him. "Right now? Not helping," he said.
"It's all right, Le Ping," Isumi said, and he smiled at Yang Hai. "Yang Hai-san, thank you for all your support and help. Please continue to do so in the future."
"See? Isumi-kun wasn't embarassed," Yang Hai said, giving Le Ping a look. "Stop being a blushing bride, or Isumi-kun won't want you anymore."
"Yang Hai-san!" Isumi protested. "Don't tease him like that! Of course I wi--" Isumi cut himself off, realizing how that could be construed in a few different ways, and not wanting Yang Hai to get the wrong idea. "Le Ping's fine the way he is, and any way he wants to be," he said firmly, meeting Yang Hai's eyes levelly (even if his cheeks still burned).
"Oho," Yang Hai said, and the grin grew wider. "That's the Isumi-kun we know and love. Don't change, whatever you do, okay, Isumi-kun? Even if you can be a little slow at times. Hey, Le Ping, let's buy your new boyfriend some dinner. We need to show the Japanese what Chinese food really tastes like."
Japan reigned triumphant in the Hokuto Cup. Le Ping won both his matches. Ko Yongha and Yashiro were discovered necking in a broom closet, Yashiro in a scandalous state of undress.
Yang Hai beat Kurata in a demonstration match, but Kurata promptly reclaimed the victory in a rematch that involved immense quantities of Chinese beer and far too many plates of Chinese food. Shindou and Touya appeared in a Chinese tabloid, a blurry photo that seemed as if they were holding hands.
Waya e-mailed Isumi with far too much information about Morishita Shigeko, and in the same e-mails, asked even more questions about Le Ping.
Zhao Shi presented Oka with a bouquet of flowers as the Japanese delegation left, and Oka's cheeks threatened to match their brilliant red.
Every night, Isumi fell asleep to red hair tickling his chin, and woke up to a comforting weight on his chest and a sleepy pair of arms clinging about his waist.
All too soon, Isumi was back in his one-room apartment. It felt so different and unfamiliar now, though he'd only been in China a week. A letter from the Go Institute informing him of the changes to his upcoming schedule lay on the floor under the mail slot, and Isumi picked it up, placing it on the table next to a goban with a light film of dust on it. He walked to the window, pulled the curtains open, and winced as the early-afternoon sunlight bounced off the office windows opposite his.
His chest hurt faintly, and he wondered what Le Ping was doing.
His phone beeped. Isumi looked at it blankly before registering the e-mail light. He opened it, reading 1 new e-mail absently, pressing a key to open it.
Dear Isumi,
Welcome home! Only not, because your home should be where I am. I understand that you have to play your matches, but I miss you already! You should hurry up and win some titles. Then you can retire and move to China. The cost of living here is a lot cheaper than in Japan anyway, and if you live near the Go Institute there will be many people lining up to play against you. Of course, you won't play them often, because you will be playing me, right? I will be a title-holder too, someday, and there will be many matches against each other.
Since you had to leave me to play it, you'd better win your next match! We'll be cheering for you here. I love you.
Le Ping
With a smile, Isumi keyed in a reply. He read it again, sent it, and then put the phone away and began to unpack.
- The end -
Ending notes:
chaineddove says: "I'm sorry this took so long, as it is entirely my fault. If aiwritingfic hadn't kept poking me it might never have gotten done, so everyone thank her. I hope you enjoyed this. It seems to have taken root in fandom and I've seen a few other fics featuring this pairing lately, which makes me really happy! I'm glad someone else thinks my slightly cracky idea is adorable ♥"
aiwritingfic says: "I'm both relieved and sad to see the end; of course I'm sad that it's finished, but I must say, I hate time zones. O_o The reception has been so heartening and the biggest motivator for us, and personally it has made staying up to 5am waiting for Maaya so we could write together so worth it some days. Please keep reading/writing Hikago, and keep Isumi in your thoughts always. ^_~ I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as we enjoyed writing it!"