Fic: Go, and the Importance of Mountain Climbing
Title: Go, and the Importance of Mountain Climbing
Author: kimby77
Pairing: Touya/Shindou
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: An excessive use of crack, but also (gasp!) some semblance of plot.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Hikaru is suddenly and inexplicably obsessed with finding the Hand of God. Touya tries very hard not to kill him. Chaos ensues. Approximately 7900 words.
Go, and the Importance of Mountain Climbing
He had always known that Shindou was capable of being annoying to the point of infuriating, but damn it, this was becoming downright ridiculous.
“Touya,” Hikaru breathed, his gaze locked on the goban between them. “Do you think this is it?”
“I swear to god,” Touya said. “If you ask me one more time, I swear to god I will have my father ban you from the go salon.”
Hikaru blinked, eyes flicking upwards. “Do you think swearing to God would help?” he pondered.
“Help to fix your poor game? I doubt it,” Touya said shortly, before returning his eyes to the board; their game had just ended in yose. “Now your tsuke on the upper right I think was a mistake. You should have connected to your own stone over here,” he pointed, “and it would have made for a much more fortuitous position on your side when I made my next hand.”
“So it’s imperfect,” Hikaru said, glancing down at the goban again. “This isn’t it, then.”
“No,” Touya said, and Hikaru let his breath out in a whoosh. His shoulders slumped and Touya felt a frown pull at the corners of his mouth.
“But if I had connected there like you said,” Hikaru went over the game, though his voice lacked the usual luster, “you would have just moved here and I wouldn’t have gained anything,” he gestured.
“Probably,” Touya conceded, and continued studying the board, but there didn’t seem to be much more to say about it. Other than Hikaru’s atrocious play on the right corner, it seemed to be rather an ordinary game.
Though, it’s not like any of their games have been particularly impressive lately. Touya rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and thought that maybe they were both simply tired. They were in the height of the league matches, so their schedules have been fuller than usual; particularly his own, as he was still in the midst of his last year of high school.
Plus, Touya didn’t know how much more he could tolerate of Hikaru’s sudden and inexplicable we must find the Hand of God right now at this very moment or else I will implode attitude. Certainly finding the perfect game was the ultimate goal for many go professionals, but there were boundaries to be had.
It was really all very wearing.
“Let’s play another,” Hikaru offered and started to sweep the stones off the goban. “Maybe we’ll find it this time.”
“God, Shindou, just stop talking about it,” Touya said.
“But Touya, don’t you want to find it?” Hikaru was looking at him as though he had just declared his eternal love for shougi.
“Unlike you, it is not consuming my mind every hour of the day,” he snapped, and gathered his white stones into the goke. “I’ll nigiri.”
Hikaru won black, and placed the first stone with a smooth pa-chi at 3-5. Touya responded in turn and their fourth (fifth?) game of the day began.
“Maybe if we find it,” Hikaru began as they finished fuseki, “it will fix everything.”
Eh? “Fix what, exactly?”
“Well you may not have noticed, Touya,” Hikaru replied sarcastically, “but our games have kind of really sucked lately!”
Pa-chi.
“And you think finding the Hand of God will make it better? Shindou, we’re just in a slump,” Touya said. “This is the point in the tournaments where everybody feels worn down.”
Pa-chi.
“Maybe you’re worn out,” Hikaru said, “but I’m not. I’m… I’m….” Hikaru’s face fell. “Crap, I’ve been playing terribly, haven’t I?”
“Like I said,” Touya repeated. “Just… tired. That’s all.”
“I can’t believe how big of a mistake it was to make that keima two games ago,” Hikaru muttered to himself. “You tore me apart after that. A seven moku loss, how appalling.”
“It wasn’t your best game,” Touya agreed.
“See, Touya? What if I continue like this, until we find it? This is very important!”
“You’re over thinking the situation,” Touya insisted. “Every pro goes through a bad time every once and a while.”
“You never have,” Hikaru sulked. “You just got into the Ouza league. You’re doing just fine.”
“So? You’re almost through the Honinbou matches, and you did make it through the second round of the Meijin prelim-”
“But I lost in the third,” Hikaru snapped and slumped in his chair, arms folded angrily across his chest. “I suppose it only matters to me, then - I don’t see why you have any reason to care.”
“Shindou,” Touya’s voice was as razor sharp as the clink of his stone on the surface. “How can you think for one second that I don’t care?’
“Sorry, sorry,” Hikaru’s voice was softer, and he answered Touya with a hane. “I’m being stupid.”
“That’s nothing new,” Touya said, still feeling quite annoyed.
They played for the next several minutes. They were well into mid-game now, and Touya watched as Hikaru’s eyes narrowed, and he bit his lip in concentration.
Pa-chi. Touya played the tengen, reinforcing his wall on the left side. Hikaru studied his cluster of stones for a few tense moments, realized he had misread it, and let it go.
“Maybe if I start attending services…” Hikaru mused out loud.
“Don’t act crazy,” Touya said. “Going to church only to help you find the Hand of God won’t achieve anything.”
“Why not?” Hikaru folded his arms and met Touya’s challenging gaze.
“It doesn’t work like that. The Hand of God… the perfect game… this is something we can reach only through our skill and our determination. Through hard work, and nothing more. It’s what my father always taught me.”
“But it’s called the Hand of God,” Hikaru pointed out curtly.
“It’s figurative,” Touya’s voice grew louder.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Hikaru retorted, color rising fast to his cheeks.
“Hikaru-kun, Akira-kun,” Ichikawa-san’s voice reprimanded them from behind the counter. “You’re disturbing the customers again.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Shindou!” Touya could see in his peripheral vision most of the room’s other occupants heading rather quickly for the exit.
“How can you know?” Hikaru said. “You’re not even the closest person to it! How can you possibly understand what it could hold?”
“Hikaru-kun, if you don’t calm down you’ll have to leave.”
“My father-”
“He isn’t the closest one to it either!” Hikaru yelled.
Touya stood abruptly, his chair screeching back and toppling over, knocking into several tables behind him.
“Akira-kun.”
***
In the end, Ichikawa-san threw them out of the go salon with strict orders not to come back until they’ve “worked through their little quarrel.”
“Whatever that is supposed to mean,” Hikaru fumed the whole way to his house to finish their game.
Touya shivered in the crisp night air; the chill took most of the irritation out of him. “I can’t believe you got us thrown out,” he said.
“Me?” Hikaru yelped. “You’re the one who knocked over those tables! I’m surprised Ichikawa-san didn’t put us to work cleaning up all the stones.”
“She probably just wanted to be rid of you,” Touya said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can’t blame her, really.”
“Hey,” Hikaru’s eyes flashed, but when he glanced over to see Touya’s slight smile, his face relaxed a bit.
“Hurry up, Touya, you’re too slow!” Hikaru took off, taking the rest of the short distance to his house at a run. “We’re not going to have any time to play once your slow ass finally gets there!”
Touya, instead, maintained his dignified walk, and watched in slight amusement as he arrived at Hikaru’s house to find Hikaru trying to catch his breath in the front hall while he toed off his shoes.
“Hikaru, you’re home,” Shindou-san emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a towel. “Where have you - you’re all sweaty,” she finished.
“Yes, well,” Hikaru waved her off. “Got anything to eat, mom? We’re starving.”
Touya’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food, and he thought he probably hadn’t eaten since lunch.
The two of them headed upstairs to Hikaru’s room. Shindou-san brought them each a plate leftover from that evening’s dinner, plus a stack of cakes, which made Hikaru’s mood noticeably improve.
The goban sat in its usual place in the middle of the floor. On his way to sit, Touya nearly tripped over the latest issue of Shonen Jump, which lay open on the floor beside the bed.
“Careful!” Hikaru rescued it and smoothed out the pages with one hand. “I haven’t had a chance to read the new chapter yet.”
“The Prince of Tennis?” Touya asked him. “Really?”
“What?” he grumbled. “It’s better than Waya’s Legend of Zelda addiction. He’s really got an unnatural dependence on Link…”
That was more information about Waya that Touya really wanted to know, ever. Without responding, Touya sat at the goban, and started to easily lay out their last game up until Hikaru’s move. “Sit down, then,” he gestured. “It’s already late and I have an early tutoring game tomorrow.”
Hikaru yawned and took his seat.
They played for several minutes, before -
“I can see you looking at that magazine under the goban,” Touya said.
“What?” Hikaru jumped. “No, I’m not, you must be mistaken.”
“How can I be mistaken? It’s right there,” Touya pointed. “I’m pointing right at it.”
“Your vision is faulty.” Hikaru shifted around.
“And now you’re sitting on it,” Touya sighed. “How can someone as obsessed with finding the Hand of God as you are become so easily distracted during a game?”
“I’m not distracted,” Hikaru said defensively. “We’ve been playing go all day.”
“Excuses,” Touya said.
“I’m not obsessed, either,” he grumbled, “…well okay maybe a little.”
“This is our last game for today, and we won’t have a chance to play tomorrow. If you don’t pay attention to it, I promise you I will burn the Jump magazine,” he said, and Hikaru gasped in shock.
“You don’t mean that,” he said in a hurt tone.
“This is not an idle threat,” Touya said stoically.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Hikaru reached over and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “I am actually really intimidated right now. No, really. It’s the girly haircut, I think. It’s quite scary.”
“It is not girly,” Touya said reflexively. He unconsciously reached up to run his fingers through hair that just barely brushed his shoulders. “It is a good length. I like it this way.”
“It’s very becoming,” Hikaru agreed. “Complements your facial structure.”
***
The following Sunday morning, Touya sat alone in the back corner of the go salon; Hikaru was late. Again. Touya stole a glance at his watch every three minutes while he distractedly laid out the kifu of one of his father’s more recent games from Korea.
“Damn,” he gave in and finally pulled out his cell phone to dial the number for Hikaru’s house.
“Shindou residence,” a female voice answered the phone after two rings.
“Ah, yes, Shindou-san,” Touya cleared his throat. “Is Shindou home?”
“Oh, Akira-kun. No, he’s not,” she responded with a light sigh. “He’s decided to attend church this morning with his grandfather.”
“Oh,” Touya said in some surprise, but he later supposed that he really should have seen this coming.
“I just don’t understand that boy,” Shindou-san said. “His whims change daily, it seems, and he never gives me straight answers when I ask what is going on in his head-”
“Which church did they go to?”
“Oh? The small one just a few blocks from our house. My father does attend service there from time to time - says the pastor is very nice - and since Hikaru wanted to go with him today…”
“Thank you Shindou-san,” Touya said politely, attempting very hard to sound like he wasn’t trying to get off the phone. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“I’m glad to help. It was nice talking to you, Akira-kun.”
“Good-bye,” Touya said and clicked off the phone. He gathered up his things, told Ichikawa-san he was leaving but would be back soon, and headed for the nearest subway stop.
He found the church quickly, having passed it several times on his way to Shindou’s house before. They have just finished and Touya spied Hikaru in the crowd outside the building, shifting awkwardly next to an older gentleman in deep conversation with a few elderly people. Hikaru not-so-discreetly covered a yawn while trying simultaneously to pull at the cuffs of his jacket.
Touya approached the group and Hikaru’s eyes shot up in surprise.
“Touya?” Hikaru said. “What-?”
Touya unceremoniously grabbed his arm and dragged him away. “You’re late for our game.”
“Uh,” Hikaru said. “Where are we-?”
“Where do you think?” Touya responded, not relinquishing his grip.
“Um, bye grandpa!” Hikaru called over his shoulder and the older man gave a confused wave.
“That was very rude, Touya,” Hikaru said fiercely as they rounded the bend.
“And it wasn’t rude of you dumping me for God?”
“I’m fairly certain you have a good chance of going to Hell someday, for that one,” Hikaru said. “And let go of me, I can walk on my own!”
Touya immediately released him. Hikaru rubbed his arm resentfully, throwing a sharp glare his direction, and Touya pretended not to notice.
They both maintained stubborn silence while Touya walked and Hikaru sulked to the subway station, and boarded the train that would take them the short distance to the go salon.
“Can’t I at least change out of this first?” Hikaru asked, glancing down at his uncomfortable suit.
“No,” Touya said and thought idly that this might be a good punishment for Shindou’s treacherous act of neglecting a game with him.
The train was crowded - filled with Sunday afternoon travelers - and all the seats were taken. Touya and Hikaru stood instead, finding a small space in the crowd to hold onto the handrails.
“You’re so unreasonable,” Hikaru muttered eventually, and his breath whispered across his ear. Touya’s grip on the rail tightened.
“I’m unreasonable?” Touya repeated. “That’s funny, coming from you.”
The train pulled into their stop and they disembarked.
“I’ve told you before that I think this is important!” Hikaru insisted, as they shuffled through the crowds.
“And I think you’re looking in the wrong place,” Touya responded.
“But - the Hand of God-”
“You don’t necessarily find God in a church,” Touya said steadily.
“And where would I find the God of Go?”
In response, Touya only made a gesture indicating the building where they had arrived. He felt he was being remarkably patient about the entire thing and should get a medal or something for his efforts. A nice, solid gold one, to wear around his neck but to also beat Shindou with when the occasion called for it.
Hikaru stared for an instant. “In your father’s go salon?”
“No, stupid,” Touya exhaled and shoved Hikaru through the door. “In our go.”
***
I can chase after you, and you can chase after me. But we can’t chase after the Hand of God so easily. It’ll come to us, or it won’t. We aren’t the ones who make that decision. Every game we play works towards that greater purpose. That’s what we have to trust in.
Along with each other.
***
It was several days later, and Touya found himself in Hikaru’s room playing a game before their respective matches that afternoon.
“Play your hand, already!” Touya said.
“I’m thinking!”
“Hm,” Touya folded his arms and leaned back. He stared absently around the room, his eyes settling on the poster of Kimeru on the wall above Hikaru’s desk.
Hikaru finally played, a defense of his white cluster in the corner.
“Oi, pay attention Touya,”
Touya glanced down at the board, and placed a stone that connected two of his own clusters at the top.
“Do you want to borrow that poster or something?” Hikaru asked suddenly. “You’ve been staring at it all morning.”
“Uh,” Touya said. “I wasn’t-”
“Or I could just take you to where I got mine,” Hikaru said brightly.
“Uh,” Touya continued articulately. “That’s really not necessary-”
“I insist!” Hikaru said with a wide smile, and pulled Touya to his feet. “You’ll love it. We’ll go now - we have plenty of time before our matches start.”
“But we have to finish the game-”
“Don’t worry, I understand,” Hikaru threw Touya a grin over his shoulder. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
Touya let Hikaru drag him out of the room in silence because, well, it’s not like he had any idea how to respond to that.
And this is how Touya Akira found himself standing outside a manga and anime shop when he really should still be preparing for that afternoon’s match.
“Maybe I should just meet you at the Go Institute,” Touya suggested warily.
“Touya,” Hikaru looked at him sternly. “Have you never been inside a manga store? Don’t you ever do anything for fun? Man cannot live on go alone.”
Touya cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that’s entirely true-” but Hikaru just ignored him and pushed him to the door. Touya tripped over the front step and stumbled inside.
This is also how Touya Akira ended up five minutes late to an official match, for the first time in his life. Whispering a profuse apology to the official, and his opponent, Ashiwara-san, he knelt in proper seiza.
Ashiwara-san, already seated opposite him, hissed, “where have you been?”
Touya could not bring himself to admit aloud that he had been so absorbed in Seigaku’s pillars that he had lost track of the time.
“It’s all Shindou’s fault,” he said instead and that seemed to be a good enough explanation for everyone involved.
***
It seemed to Touya that they were fighting more and more often, these days. He couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t arguing, per se, but more recently, if it wasn’t one petty thing, it was always another.
“What the hell were you thinking, making that move on the upper right?” Hikaru demanded post-game.
Touya massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers. “It was a good move,” he stated, and he felt one of his frequent Shindou-induced headaches coming on.
“No it wasn’t, it sucked,” Hikaru said. “It left your corner completely vulnerable.”
“It would have been okay,” Touya began, “if you hadn’t used the hane against it. That was a weak response.”
“Sure, blame it on me,” Hikaru rolled his eyes. “If you had connected two moves before that, it would have forced my response quicker. I would have had much more trouble controlling the left side.”
“Hn,” Touya sat back. Hikaru did have a point but of course he would never admit to that, ever.
Hikaru gathered his stones with jerky, irritable motions, muttering under his breath and Touya could only catch his own name, along with ‘know-it-all’, ‘unreasonable’ and ‘stubborn’.
Touya’s brow narrowed. “I’m getting tired of you calling me unreasonable all the time.”
“You’d better not even think about playing that way during your next Ouza league game,” Hikaru continued. “I may never forgive you.”
“You should stop getting so worked up,” Touya said brusquely, putting an abrupt end to their conversation. “You have your challenger match to think about.”
***
Hikaru’s opponent for the match to decide the Honinbou challenger seat was an 8-dan, and a terribly strong one, at that.
When Hikaru lost he disappeared immediately afterward, leaving no note, nor any hint of where he might have gone.
The sting he still felt over their last argument had vanished in an instant, only to be replaced by something else; an irritation much, much bigger. Touya was, for some reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, absolutely furious.
Why would he leave? How could he simply seem to disappear from the face of the earth? He had done this before, one other time. It was just after he had become a pro, Touya remembered.
He took to pacing in circles around the house, blatantly ignoring the concerned glances from his mother. He could barely concentrate on the goban; the lines of the grid only blurring together.
“He’ll return, son,” Touya Kouyo’s deep voice said, during the middle of a game the two of them were playing. Touya hadn’t made a move in twenty minutes - it was all he could do to even attempt to focus on the game in front of him. “Just like before.”
But why does he keep doing this? Touya gritted his teeth, arms rigid at his sides and hands clenched into fists.
He ended up losing miserably to his father, with a devastating shortage of ten moku.
Touya laid in bed that night, unable to fall asleep as the game replayed over and over in his head like an old, never ending filmstrip.
He shouldn’t have let anything affect his go so horribly. He hadn’t played that way against his father since he was eight years old with a five-stone handicap.
This wouldn’t have happened before Shindou, he knew. His life had been cool and steady and calm, with a clear and unhindered path laying in wait. No child, amateur, or lower level dan could match him. Hell, even a couple of the upper level dans wouldn’t be able to provide any competition, his father had told him once, early on.
He alone had command of the long path in front of him, and he would not be shaken. Why should he? Go came as naturally to him as walking or talking or breathing did to anyone else. He had been comfortable; maybe too much so.
Then the overwhelming energy and vibrancy that was called Shindou Hikaru had appeared opposite the goban, and his life was suddenly far more complicated and uncertain than he preferred it to be.
His world became a new and terrifying, yet exhilarating place. And he was there, Shindou was always, always, persistently there, following from behind, footsteps fast approaching, and one day, Touya was loathe to say, surpassing. And then Touya would be the one running after him.
And, well.
He wouldn’t change that for anything.
***
Hikaru’s friend, Waya, seemed supremely unconcerned.
“It’s just how Shindou is,” Waya dismissed him through bites of rice, when Touya questioned him in the meal room the next day at the Go Institute.
“But…”
“He’s weird.” Waya gave him an odd look that Touya can’t identify, but is one he typically sees on Hikaru’s friends’ faces when he is around them. “You should know that by now.”
Isumi-san seemed a bit more concerned, so Touya decided he likes him better.
“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Isumi-san said, though his expression belied his unease. “He’s struggled with something similar to this before, and he overcame it. He’ll be back soon enough, probably tomorrow, and then we’ll know we worried for nothing.”
Hikaru did not return the next day, either. Touya sat stiffly on the sofa, listening to the rumble of approaching thunder, and trying and failing to concentrate on his western history homework. It was a Friday, and his parents had departed for a match his father had scheduled in Kansai that weekend.
His restless hands fiddled with a can of cold oolong tea, several drops spilling over the side and onto his pant leg.
Outside, the rain began to pour.
***
Hikaru showed up at his door the following evening, soaked through from the day’s storms, and Touya wanted to slap him but also to give into that strange desire to hug him and never let go, ever.
“Where were you?” Why weren’t you here with me?
Hikaru shrugged one shoulder and let the water drip from the tips of his bangs into his eyes. “Does it matter?”
No, not really, Touya thought. “My parents are away this weekend.” I’m lonely. “Stay over.” Don’t leave again.
“Okay.”
Never leave.
***
Hikaru’s clothes look like they’ve seen better days, so Touya pointed him in the direction of the bathroom with a pile of his own clothes in hand for Hikaru to borrow for the night.
Hikaru glanced dubiously down at the bundle in his arms.
“I do own comfortable clothes, you know,” Touya said. “I don’t exactly sleep in suits, after all.”
“I never would’ve thought it,” Hikaru said innocently, cracking a small grin before heading upstairs.
Hikaru returned a half-hour later in light blue pajama pants, and a long sleeve t-shirt that doesn’t quite cover his wrists.
“I warmed up some supper for you,” Touya said. “In the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Your eyes are bloodshot.”
Touya reached up to rub them, wincing when he felt how sensitive they indeed were. “I haven’t had much sleep, lately.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You didn’t-” Touya began automatically, then paused. “I mean. It’s fine. I guess.”
Touya sat across the kitchen table, watching Hikaru eat in silence because he didn’t quite know what to say, but Hikaru didn’t seem to mind the quiet.
They went upstairs; Touya pointed Hikaru to the guest room, and Touya collapsed on his own futon, falling asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, Touya woke abruptly to a yell from downstairs, and the unwelcome smell of something burning.
“Does he have to start making my life miserable so early?” he muttered, glancing at his alarm clock, but then thought that it was rather nice to start returning to normal, really.
Touya kicked off his blankets and hurried down the stairs. In the kitchen, Hikaru stood frozen, watching a column of smoke rise from a frying pan on the stove.
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Touya rushed to the stove to move the pan off the burner. “Honestly, I don’t know how someone can manage to burn scrambled eggs!”
Hikaru snapped out of it with a jerk and looked at Touya. “It’s not my fault. I like a western style breakfast,” he stated indignantly. “The only things your parents had ready to eat in the fridge were rice and eel!”
“You’ve practically ruined the skillet,” Touya said, scraping the charred remains into the trash bin.
He sat the pan down onto the counter, and turned to Hikaru with an exasperated look.
“The toast came out normal,” Hikaru only said, quite happily, and Touya sank down into his usual seat at the table.
“Ah. As long as the toast is safe,” Touya took a gulp from the glass of orange juice that waited for him at his place. “Then I suppose it’s okay.”
***
It was late afternoon, several days later, as Touya finished with a tutoring session at a student’s house in Hikaru’s neighborhood. And, as they typically do after Touya has shidougo games nearby, he headed over to Hikaru’s house for them to go out for a meal and go.
Shindou-san answered the door and Touya bowed. “Good afternoon,” he said as he walked in.
“Hikaru’s in the living room,” Shindou-san told him, and Touya nodded and headed that direction.
“Shindou, I’m done with-” Touya began as he walked into the room.
“Hush,” Hikaru waved him away, “I’m watching this.” Hikaru sat on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to whatever action was happening on the television.
“Watching what?” Touya peered at the screen. “Shindou, is this-?”
“Quiet!” he snapped. “My favorite song is starting.”
Touya watched for a moment longer. “I didn’t even know you could manage that kind of choreography with tennis racquets in hand,” he commented.
“It’s quite a high technical achievement,” Hikaru said loftily. “Very complex.”
“Are you ready to go yet?”
“When this is over,” Hikaru said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
And Touya sighed and settled himself on the couch. “You’re very strange,” he observed, but Hikaru seemed not to hear.
Hikaru’s program ended an hour later, and by then Touya’s stomach was about ready to eat itself.
“You might want to plan a little better, next time,” Touya said, annoyed, as they finally left the house.
“I didn’t know it would be on!” Hikaru defended himself. “Hey, where are we going for food?”
“The sushi place down the block,” Touya answered.
“Aww,” Hikaru’s face fell and he looked at Touya with sad eyes.
“Don’t sulk,” Touya said. “We had ramen yesterday. It’s my turn to pick.”
“I get to pick the next two times, then!”
Touya doesn’t think that this even remotely follows any rules of logic that he is aware of, but, whatever.
***
After they ate, (and Touya was glad to see Hikaru accept sushi as his fate for the time being, and he ate with much gusto), they walked slowly back to Hikaru’s house in the waning afternoon light.
Touya decided that he quite liked this part of the day - the time where the world is caught between the day and night. The autumn weather brings with it the cool and crisp breeze, the leaves rustling by. The sky is a warm yellow and orange, streaked with purple, and the quiet whispers of the trees welcome the approaching dusk.
And he is walking in companionable silence with Hikaru, feeling full and satisfied after a good meal, and Touya thinks life is pretty grand.
Hikaru, of course, notices none of this but then the effect is ruined anyway as Hikaru’s pocket suddenly blasts You Got Game? at an inhumane decibel level and Touya can’t help but throw him an exasperated look.
“What?” Hikaru asked as he fished out his cell phone and flipped it open. “Yeah? Oh, hi Waya.”
Touya can only shake his head.
“Your ringtone is set as Be Shiny,” Hikaru whispered to him before returning to his conversation.
“Hm,” Touya said noncommittally but he seems to recall hearing that song before and remembers that it wasn’t half-bad, really.
***
“I have lost.”
“Thank you for the game. You played well, Shindou.”
“…it was a good game.”
“Yes.”
“But still not the game...”
“Of course not.”
***
On the day Touya beat his father, he thought he could see the world quite possibly coming to an end, crashing to a ruin all around him.
It had been in an international tournament that both he and his father had participated in. Touya Kouyo for Korea; Touya Akira for Japan. They had met in the semi-finals, and of course it was all the media and the spectators could talk about. Touya had felt an enormous pressure going into it, which was unusual for him, but his father had seemed as calm and collected as ever.
The spectators witnessed a remarkable match. Black and white had been in near-perfect balance, trading advantages for the entire game.
White won, by a solid one and a half moku. Touya had gone on to win the tournament, though everyone agreed he did not play as well in the final game as he did in the semi.
“The world is not ending,” Hikaru said now. “You’re so dramatic.”
Hikaru did not seem to be paying attention to their game anymore; instead, he only looked toward Touya with a calculating gaze. Touya still stared stubbornly at the board.
“I didn’t say it was,” Touya responded, his voice unruffled.
“I can see it in your eyes,” Hikaru snapped. “You think there’s nothing left, that you can’t go any further now. That’s stupid.”
“You’re imagining things,” Touya said, deliberately placing a stone with a loud pa-chi, ignoring his opponent.
“Oh, of course, I see now,” Hikaru said sarcastically. “I’m only the person who understands you best, after all.”
“I suppose that is what makes you special,” Touya said, with the air of humoring a small child.
“I know how you think, Touya,” Hikaru snapped at him. “And I know when you’re being an idiot.”
“It’s just…” Touya gave in. His head fell forward, and he let his bangs cover his eyes. “How could it have happened? In an international tournament, no less, where the entire world could witness it.”
Hikaru watched him steadily, eyes narrowing.
“It’s just. It’s so early. There’s so much time left,” he mused softly. “How could it be over already?”
“You’re such a bastard, Touya!” Hikaru yelled suddenly and Touya jumped, startled.
“Stop being so selfish!” Hikaru grabbed his bag, the expression in his eyes downright livid as he stormed from the room.
Touya stared at the abandoned game for a moment longer, oblivious to the other patrons’ murmuring around him, before bringing a clenched fist down on the board with a loud bang that rocked the table. The stones scattered everywhere, but Touya could only focus on the empty seat in front of him.
***
As only the cruel odds of fate could have managed it, the two of them had been scheduled to play an official ranking match the following afternoon.
And, as irritated as they could become with each other either during or after a match, going into an ooteai match angry, before it even started, was only asking for trouble, and this is why Touya found himself at Hikaru’s door that morning.
“Good morning,” Touya said, as Hikaru answered the door.
“Hello,” Hikaru said flatly. “Come in, I guess. My parents aren’t home.”
Touya stepped through the entryway and pulled off his shoes before following Hikaru to the sitting area.
They sat for several moments before Touya ventured, “Shindou…”
“I’m still angry,” Hikaru said stubbornly.
“Listen, the game with my father… I saw it, halfway through. I saw that I had the chance to win. I needed to keep playing and even if I wanted to stop, I wouldn’t have been able to.”
“I’m not angry about the game! Why should I be? It was an amazing game,” Hikaru said.
“Then why-?”
“I’m talking about after. You were only thinking about yourself,” Hikaru continued, eyes hard like stones and arms stiffly folded across his middle. “Don’t you understand? A game like that, no matter how perfect it is, can’t be the end, it can’t be over just like that, because we’re going to reach the Hand of God together, Touya. Nothing else will possibly be able to measure up to that.”
“But what if that one game had turned out to be the game, after all?” Touya voiced a fear that he hadn’t bared until now, and probably didn’t even know he had. He was acutely aware that he had played his best that day against his father. “What if, ages from now, the go world reflects back on that game and realizes that was it, and suddenly that’s the end of all things? What else can we do, if that happens?”
At that, Hikaru cracked a small grin, and shook his head. “You’re still not getting it, Touya. I said we will reach it together. Together. So, you see, that couldn’t have been the Hand of God. Because you weren’t playing it with me.”
Strangely enough, Hikaru’s words made a certain kind of valid sense to Touya. For a split second he felt rather jealous that Hikaru always seemed to have a deep, almost unconscious insight to things that should, in retrospect, be obvious.
“I intend to keep playing you, the best I know how, until we find it,” Hikaru continued. “What about you?
“You’re right,” Touya said. “You’re right, Shindou.” Clearly, not just finding the Hand of God, but finding it with Shindou would surpass everything else the world had to offer. Clearly.
“It’s going to be you, and me. No one else,” Touya finished. Because that’s how it’s always been, and Touya could see no reason why that would ever change.
“Good. I’m glad you’ve finally seen the light,” Hikaru said, his tone considerably more upbeat. “Took you long enough.”
“I must not have your incredible perception,” Touya said by way of explanation.
Hikaru snorted. “Whatever.”
“I’m relieved we’ve resolved this before our match.”
“Oh,” Hikaru looked like he just remembered something vitally important. “Our game!”
“You forgot?” Touya asked in disbelief.
“I’ve been distracted by your pigheadedness,” Hikaru responded. “Hey, maybe we’ll find it this afternoon!” he continued, vibrantly.
“Why are you in such a rush to find it, lately?” Touya asked. “We have a lifetime.”
Hikaru’s face closed off, and Touya was suddenly unable to read what he was thinking. “He thought that, too,” he almost mumbled.
“Who?”
“…Don’t worry about it.”
Touya grabbed his hand. “We’ll reach it, you know.”
Hikaru stared down at their linked hands.
“Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day, in the future,” he stated firmly, because Hikaru seemed to need this reassurance from him. “I promise.”
Hikaru smiled and stood up, not letting go.
“…Touya?” Hikaru asked, and Touya inwardly sighed.
“Yes, Shindou.”
“When exactly do you think-?”
“Many years,” Touya said.
Hikaru grinned. “Come on, let’s go back to the manga shop. It’ll help us relax before the match.”
And Touya would have protested but he was a bit busy trying to figure out why exactly Hikaru was tracing small circles on the back of his hand.
***
They arrived at the Go Institute ten minutes before start time, and took their places at the assigned goban.
“All right. Let’s play, Touya!” Hikaru pumped his fist in the air, ignoring the frowns from the pros kneeling next to them. “The Hand of God is close, I can feel it!”
“You have invented a new kind of torture,” Touya said pristinely. “It’s amazing, really, that I continue to play with you and willingly put myself through this suffering.”
“You must have been taken in by my indefinable allure,” Hikaru responded with something resembling an evil grin, “and now it is far too late to escape my clutches.”
“Yes, something close to that.” The bell rang, signaling the start of the match, and Touya grabbed a handful of stones. “Nigiri.”
They play, and Touya can see right away that it will soon turn into a magnificent game.
He watched as Hikaru contemplated the board briefly before slamming his move down. Hikaru’s eyes met his own, blazing and forceful, and it sent a thrill running down Touya’s spine.
It occurred to him, all at once, that it would be perfectly okay to spend the rest of his life this way.
Touya wanted to keep playing, forever and always. Not just go, of course he wanted, needed to play go, but more importantly, he needed to play go with Shindou. Shindou constantly pushed him forward. Without Shindou, Touya’s go wouldn’t be Touya’s go any longer, but something foreign, unfamiliar. Shindou made his go what it was.
Maybe his go affected Shindou the same way.
He blinked, and refocused on the board. They’re in chuuban, and Hikaru’s play on the left side was superb, wonderful even.
In every single game he played with Shindou, they found something new, or different, or downright crazy. Or a hand so exciting they discussed it for weeks afterward. It had always been like that. All of the games they play hold something unique and brilliant and breathtaking.
Each game in their past exists for every game in their future.
Hikaru cut his stones on the upper right corner. Touya paused for a moment, eyes narrowing, reading into the pattern before placing a stone that would force Hikaru to respond or otherwise lose several moku.
Hikaru let his breath out in a slow hiss, eyes meeting Touya’s again. A small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth as he responded with a tsuke to Touya’s stone. Touya blinked rapidly at the formation; he didn’t see this one coming, at all, and recognized that it was one of Hikaru’s traps. Now he would have to work very hard to save the corner.
Touya gritted his teeth, and slammed the next move down beside Hikaru’s, and the battle continued.
Quite possibly, Touya thought, he and Shindou continue playing and searching only for the purpose of driving each other on. They push other go players as well, he knew, and other games, and maybe those games push every game ever played. Touya imagined lines drawn on a globe, connecting every go player, every game, with another.
Every game.
Touya drew a slow intake of breath.
Maybe…
Maybe they got it wrong?
It was immediately after this electrifying realization that Touya, studying the board for several moments, resigned.
***
Afterwards, it was early in the evening, and they went to Touya’s house since it was closest to the Go Institute.
“Your parents aren’t home?” Hikaru asked, as they entered the darkened house.
“They’re away for a match,” Touya said, softly, subdued.
“Oh,” Hikaru said, and gazed at Touya quizzically.
They went into the kitchen and ate a fast dinner, before heading up to Touya’s room to review their game of that afternoon.
They replayed the opening moves without much discussion.
“You’ve been quieter than usual since the match finished,” Hikaru commented finally, “and for you, that’s really saying something.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I,” Hikaru said. “I just mean, are you upset about something?”
“No, of course not,” Touya responded, and forced himself to smile. “I’m just thinking.”
They had finished laying out the game through chuuban. “Here,” Hikaru said, pointing. “That was a breaking point for black. And…” Hikaru finished laying the stones. “You resigned after I took your territory here. I can’t believe you missed that, Touya!”
“You played a good game,” Touya told him.
“Yeah it was a great game, wasn’t it?” Hikaru smiled. “And maybe that wasn’t quite it, Touya, but we’re getting closer!”
“Shindou,” Touya said quickly. “Maybe… maybe the Hand of God is not just in one game. But instead it is in every game.”
Hikaru, in the midst of cleaning up the stones, merely blinked at him in response. “How’s that now?”
“Maybe it can be found in all the games of go ever played,” he hesitated to voice his thoughts out loud, but if he couldn’t share them with Hikaru, as he did nearly everything else, then what good were they?
“Those games that are far away in the past, right here in the present, and those yet to come in the future. Even a future long after we’re gone. Didn’t you say, once, that you play go in order to connect the distant past to the distant future?”
“Yes,” Hikaru’s eyes were wide. His hand stilled on the stones and he left them scattered on the board, his full attention on Touya.
“Maybe we’re too naïve and narrow-minded to think of it just as just one game and that’s it, it’s all over and done with,” Touya replied, heart quickening because yes, yes, yes this must be it, after all, this has to be the explanation they’ve needed this whole time.
“I think I’ve just realized, Shindou…” Touya said slowly. “It’s just how you were thinking when you lost the Honinbou match… how I felt when I beat my father. Perhaps we’ve been too distracted in letting the search cloud our minds. If we focus solely on searching for perfection, we’ll never find it. And there ends up being no point.
“Instead, the Hand of God… maybe it progresses as the player himself progresses. It constantly moves to a higher level, so that it pulls us up as well. Each game holds something new and mysterious to be unlocked, and we grow as a result of it. So when we finally achieve something we’ve worked so hard for, it won’t be the end, but there will still be another step in front of us.”
“…And yet another after that?”
“It’s relentless. Never ending.”
“There is no end,” Hikaru repeated Touya’s own words from only a couple years ago, but somehow it already felt like a lifetime.
The chase after the Hand of God is the means to continuously push forward to the next level, so that we may one day find that higher meaning we’re so desperately looking for within ourselves.
***
It’s an endless succession of mountain climbing. We finally reach the top of one peak only to encounter another, taller peak stretching in front of us. There’s no point in being in it for the destination, because we can never truly get there.
We’re in it for the view along the way.
***
They sat beside each other in silence, unable to move for several minutes. Touya contemplated his own words, and could do nothing more than sit there and try to understand.
He finally looked over and met Hikaru’s eyes, wide and green and seeing a reflection of his own thoughts and knows that Hikaru, too, just gets it.
“Touya?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” he said softly, and smiles.
“Oh, I…” Touya suddenly felt awkward. “I didn’t really do anything…”
“You did everything,” Hikaru said. “And… I think I’ve decided… that I’ll just let things be what they will be,” he finished slowly.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Hikaru said.
There was a short pause where Touya tried very hard not to feel relieved because he knew there had to be a catch somewhere, and he also remembered not to underestimate Shindou when he got that strange glint in his eyes as he did sometimes.
“Of course, some other things…” Hikaru started. “Some other things, every now and then, do need a little intervention.” And Hikaru grasped the front of Touya’s shirt, and, ignoring the startled gasp, pulled him forward to meet the hot press of his mouth.
Oh, Touya thought wildly. Oh my god. What-?
For a long second, Touya couldn’t move. He could only focus on soft lips, also frozen and unmoving, on his own.
Shindou is kissing me. Why is Shindou kissing me?
Well, why not? answered an obviously better-informed part of his brain.
Then, eyes falling shut, Touya tentatively moved his lips against Hikaru’s. A small sound, a catch of breath issued from Hikaru’s mouth, and Hikaru pressed closer, arm curling around Touya’s shoulders to grasp the back of his head. Touya, thinking that he should return the touch, reached forward with one trembling hand to rest on Hikaru’s side.
All rational thought flew from his mind as he felt a tongue push against his lips, seeking entrance. Touya parted his lips, and felt a new and wonderful sensation of Hikaru’s tongue dipping into his mouth and meeting his own. Hikaru’s other hand felt so very warm and soothing against his cheek, and a shiver ran down his entire body, setting his nerve endings on fire.
“Oh,” Touya said, his voice low against Hikaru’s lips. “I… I’m… you think that I-?” That I may just be a little bit in love with you?
That might explain quite a bit, actually.
“Of course you are, you idiot,” Hikaru murmured.
“And… and you-?”
Hikaru leaned back just far enough to roll his eyes. “Do you even need to ask that?”
And Touya realized that no, no he didn’t, and he should really be focusing less on thinking right now, thankyou, and concentrate instead on the way Hikaru’s body pressing against his once more feels like the last piece of a previously unknown puzzle sliding into place.
***
They play the game with a frenzy of movement, no time to think between moves but to only respond to the other, to meet each other stone for stone, hands almost colliding over the board, and simply play for the sheer joy and exhilaration of playing.
They leave the onlookers breathless, but they are both oblivious to anyone other than the person across the goban.
Hikaru places the last stone and the game ends with silent agreement.
Both boys pause and can do nothing but stare at the board. Chests heave; they try to catch their breaths, eyes wide and unmoving. Hikaru grasps his fan so tightly in one hand that his knuckles turn white.
“Oh,” Hikaru says at last.
“Oh,” Touya breathes.
Touya has never seen a more beautiful game.
“Was that it? Is that the end?” one of the spectators whispers into the silence.
“No,” Touya answers. “It’s the beginning.”
Author: kimby77
Pairing: Touya/Shindou
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: An excessive use of crack, but also (gasp!) some semblance of plot.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Hikaru is suddenly and inexplicably obsessed with finding the Hand of God. Touya tries very hard not to kill him. Chaos ensues. Approximately 7900 words.
Go, and the Importance of Mountain Climbing
He had always known that Shindou was capable of being annoying to the point of infuriating, but damn it, this was becoming downright ridiculous.
“Touya,” Hikaru breathed, his gaze locked on the goban between them. “Do you think this is it?”
“I swear to god,” Touya said. “If you ask me one more time, I swear to god I will have my father ban you from the go salon.”
Hikaru blinked, eyes flicking upwards. “Do you think swearing to God would help?” he pondered.
“Help to fix your poor game? I doubt it,” Touya said shortly, before returning his eyes to the board; their game had just ended in yose. “Now your tsuke on the upper right I think was a mistake. You should have connected to your own stone over here,” he pointed, “and it would have made for a much more fortuitous position on your side when I made my next hand.”
“So it’s imperfect,” Hikaru said, glancing down at the goban again. “This isn’t it, then.”
“No,” Touya said, and Hikaru let his breath out in a whoosh. His shoulders slumped and Touya felt a frown pull at the corners of his mouth.
“But if I had connected there like you said,” Hikaru went over the game, though his voice lacked the usual luster, “you would have just moved here and I wouldn’t have gained anything,” he gestured.
“Probably,” Touya conceded, and continued studying the board, but there didn’t seem to be much more to say about it. Other than Hikaru’s atrocious play on the right corner, it seemed to be rather an ordinary game.
Though, it’s not like any of their games have been particularly impressive lately. Touya rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and thought that maybe they were both simply tired. They were in the height of the league matches, so their schedules have been fuller than usual; particularly his own, as he was still in the midst of his last year of high school.
Plus, Touya didn’t know how much more he could tolerate of Hikaru’s sudden and inexplicable we must find the Hand of God right now at this very moment or else I will implode attitude. Certainly finding the perfect game was the ultimate goal for many go professionals, but there were boundaries to be had.
It was really all very wearing.
“Let’s play another,” Hikaru offered and started to sweep the stones off the goban. “Maybe we’ll find it this time.”
“God, Shindou, just stop talking about it,” Touya said.
“But Touya, don’t you want to find it?” Hikaru was looking at him as though he had just declared his eternal love for shougi.
“Unlike you, it is not consuming my mind every hour of the day,” he snapped, and gathered his white stones into the goke. “I’ll nigiri.”
Hikaru won black, and placed the first stone with a smooth pa-chi at 3-5. Touya responded in turn and their fourth (fifth?) game of the day began.
“Maybe if we find it,” Hikaru began as they finished fuseki, “it will fix everything.”
Eh? “Fix what, exactly?”
“Well you may not have noticed, Touya,” Hikaru replied sarcastically, “but our games have kind of really sucked lately!”
Pa-chi.
“And you think finding the Hand of God will make it better? Shindou, we’re just in a slump,” Touya said. “This is the point in the tournaments where everybody feels worn down.”
Pa-chi.
“Maybe you’re worn out,” Hikaru said, “but I’m not. I’m… I’m….” Hikaru’s face fell. “Crap, I’ve been playing terribly, haven’t I?”
“Like I said,” Touya repeated. “Just… tired. That’s all.”
“I can’t believe how big of a mistake it was to make that keima two games ago,” Hikaru muttered to himself. “You tore me apart after that. A seven moku loss, how appalling.”
“It wasn’t your best game,” Touya agreed.
“See, Touya? What if I continue like this, until we find it? This is very important!”
“You’re over thinking the situation,” Touya insisted. “Every pro goes through a bad time every once and a while.”
“You never have,” Hikaru sulked. “You just got into the Ouza league. You’re doing just fine.”
“So? You’re almost through the Honinbou matches, and you did make it through the second round of the Meijin prelim-”
“But I lost in the third,” Hikaru snapped and slumped in his chair, arms folded angrily across his chest. “I suppose it only matters to me, then - I don’t see why you have any reason to care.”
“Shindou,” Touya’s voice was as razor sharp as the clink of his stone on the surface. “How can you think for one second that I don’t care?’
“Sorry, sorry,” Hikaru’s voice was softer, and he answered Touya with a hane. “I’m being stupid.”
“That’s nothing new,” Touya said, still feeling quite annoyed.
They played for the next several minutes. They were well into mid-game now, and Touya watched as Hikaru’s eyes narrowed, and he bit his lip in concentration.
Pa-chi. Touya played the tengen, reinforcing his wall on the left side. Hikaru studied his cluster of stones for a few tense moments, realized he had misread it, and let it go.
“Maybe if I start attending services…” Hikaru mused out loud.
“Don’t act crazy,” Touya said. “Going to church only to help you find the Hand of God won’t achieve anything.”
“Why not?” Hikaru folded his arms and met Touya’s challenging gaze.
“It doesn’t work like that. The Hand of God… the perfect game… this is something we can reach only through our skill and our determination. Through hard work, and nothing more. It’s what my father always taught me.”
“But it’s called the Hand of God,” Hikaru pointed out curtly.
“It’s figurative,” Touya’s voice grew louder.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Hikaru retorted, color rising fast to his cheeks.
“Hikaru-kun, Akira-kun,” Ichikawa-san’s voice reprimanded them from behind the counter. “You’re disturbing the customers again.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Shindou!” Touya could see in his peripheral vision most of the room’s other occupants heading rather quickly for the exit.
“How can you know?” Hikaru said. “You’re not even the closest person to it! How can you possibly understand what it could hold?”
“Hikaru-kun, if you don’t calm down you’ll have to leave.”
“My father-”
“He isn’t the closest one to it either!” Hikaru yelled.
Touya stood abruptly, his chair screeching back and toppling over, knocking into several tables behind him.
“Akira-kun.”
***
In the end, Ichikawa-san threw them out of the go salon with strict orders not to come back until they’ve “worked through their little quarrel.”
“Whatever that is supposed to mean,” Hikaru fumed the whole way to his house to finish their game.
Touya shivered in the crisp night air; the chill took most of the irritation out of him. “I can’t believe you got us thrown out,” he said.
“Me?” Hikaru yelped. “You’re the one who knocked over those tables! I’m surprised Ichikawa-san didn’t put us to work cleaning up all the stones.”
“She probably just wanted to be rid of you,” Touya said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can’t blame her, really.”
“Hey,” Hikaru’s eyes flashed, but when he glanced over to see Touya’s slight smile, his face relaxed a bit.
“Hurry up, Touya, you’re too slow!” Hikaru took off, taking the rest of the short distance to his house at a run. “We’re not going to have any time to play once your slow ass finally gets there!”
Touya, instead, maintained his dignified walk, and watched in slight amusement as he arrived at Hikaru’s house to find Hikaru trying to catch his breath in the front hall while he toed off his shoes.
“Hikaru, you’re home,” Shindou-san emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a towel. “Where have you - you’re all sweaty,” she finished.
“Yes, well,” Hikaru waved her off. “Got anything to eat, mom? We’re starving.”
Touya’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food, and he thought he probably hadn’t eaten since lunch.
The two of them headed upstairs to Hikaru’s room. Shindou-san brought them each a plate leftover from that evening’s dinner, plus a stack of cakes, which made Hikaru’s mood noticeably improve.
The goban sat in its usual place in the middle of the floor. On his way to sit, Touya nearly tripped over the latest issue of Shonen Jump, which lay open on the floor beside the bed.
“Careful!” Hikaru rescued it and smoothed out the pages with one hand. “I haven’t had a chance to read the new chapter yet.”
“The Prince of Tennis?” Touya asked him. “Really?”
“What?” he grumbled. “It’s better than Waya’s Legend of Zelda addiction. He’s really got an unnatural dependence on Link…”
That was more information about Waya that Touya really wanted to know, ever. Without responding, Touya sat at the goban, and started to easily lay out their last game up until Hikaru’s move. “Sit down, then,” he gestured. “It’s already late and I have an early tutoring game tomorrow.”
Hikaru yawned and took his seat.
They played for several minutes, before -
“I can see you looking at that magazine under the goban,” Touya said.
“What?” Hikaru jumped. “No, I’m not, you must be mistaken.”
“How can I be mistaken? It’s right there,” Touya pointed. “I’m pointing right at it.”
“Your vision is faulty.” Hikaru shifted around.
“And now you’re sitting on it,” Touya sighed. “How can someone as obsessed with finding the Hand of God as you are become so easily distracted during a game?”
“I’m not distracted,” Hikaru said defensively. “We’ve been playing go all day.”
“Excuses,” Touya said.
“I’m not obsessed, either,” he grumbled, “…well okay maybe a little.”
“This is our last game for today, and we won’t have a chance to play tomorrow. If you don’t pay attention to it, I promise you I will burn the Jump magazine,” he said, and Hikaru gasped in shock.
“You don’t mean that,” he said in a hurt tone.
“This is not an idle threat,” Touya said stoically.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Hikaru reached over and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “I am actually really intimidated right now. No, really. It’s the girly haircut, I think. It’s quite scary.”
“It is not girly,” Touya said reflexively. He unconsciously reached up to run his fingers through hair that just barely brushed his shoulders. “It is a good length. I like it this way.”
“It’s very becoming,” Hikaru agreed. “Complements your facial structure.”
***
The following Sunday morning, Touya sat alone in the back corner of the go salon; Hikaru was late. Again. Touya stole a glance at his watch every three minutes while he distractedly laid out the kifu of one of his father’s more recent games from Korea.
“Damn,” he gave in and finally pulled out his cell phone to dial the number for Hikaru’s house.
“Shindou residence,” a female voice answered the phone after two rings.
“Ah, yes, Shindou-san,” Touya cleared his throat. “Is Shindou home?”
“Oh, Akira-kun. No, he’s not,” she responded with a light sigh. “He’s decided to attend church this morning with his grandfather.”
“Oh,” Touya said in some surprise, but he later supposed that he really should have seen this coming.
“I just don’t understand that boy,” Shindou-san said. “His whims change daily, it seems, and he never gives me straight answers when I ask what is going on in his head-”
“Which church did they go to?”
“Oh? The small one just a few blocks from our house. My father does attend service there from time to time - says the pastor is very nice - and since Hikaru wanted to go with him today…”
“Thank you Shindou-san,” Touya said politely, attempting very hard to sound like he wasn’t trying to get off the phone. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“I’m glad to help. It was nice talking to you, Akira-kun.”
“Good-bye,” Touya said and clicked off the phone. He gathered up his things, told Ichikawa-san he was leaving but would be back soon, and headed for the nearest subway stop.
He found the church quickly, having passed it several times on his way to Shindou’s house before. They have just finished and Touya spied Hikaru in the crowd outside the building, shifting awkwardly next to an older gentleman in deep conversation with a few elderly people. Hikaru not-so-discreetly covered a yawn while trying simultaneously to pull at the cuffs of his jacket.
Touya approached the group and Hikaru’s eyes shot up in surprise.
“Touya?” Hikaru said. “What-?”
Touya unceremoniously grabbed his arm and dragged him away. “You’re late for our game.”
“Uh,” Hikaru said. “Where are we-?”
“Where do you think?” Touya responded, not relinquishing his grip.
“Um, bye grandpa!” Hikaru called over his shoulder and the older man gave a confused wave.
“That was very rude, Touya,” Hikaru said fiercely as they rounded the bend.
“And it wasn’t rude of you dumping me for God?”
“I’m fairly certain you have a good chance of going to Hell someday, for that one,” Hikaru said. “And let go of me, I can walk on my own!”
Touya immediately released him. Hikaru rubbed his arm resentfully, throwing a sharp glare his direction, and Touya pretended not to notice.
They both maintained stubborn silence while Touya walked and Hikaru sulked to the subway station, and boarded the train that would take them the short distance to the go salon.
“Can’t I at least change out of this first?” Hikaru asked, glancing down at his uncomfortable suit.
“No,” Touya said and thought idly that this might be a good punishment for Shindou’s treacherous act of neglecting a game with him.
The train was crowded - filled with Sunday afternoon travelers - and all the seats were taken. Touya and Hikaru stood instead, finding a small space in the crowd to hold onto the handrails.
“You’re so unreasonable,” Hikaru muttered eventually, and his breath whispered across his ear. Touya’s grip on the rail tightened.
“I’m unreasonable?” Touya repeated. “That’s funny, coming from you.”
The train pulled into their stop and they disembarked.
“I’ve told you before that I think this is important!” Hikaru insisted, as they shuffled through the crowds.
“And I think you’re looking in the wrong place,” Touya responded.
“But - the Hand of God-”
“You don’t necessarily find God in a church,” Touya said steadily.
“And where would I find the God of Go?”
In response, Touya only made a gesture indicating the building where they had arrived. He felt he was being remarkably patient about the entire thing and should get a medal or something for his efforts. A nice, solid gold one, to wear around his neck but to also beat Shindou with when the occasion called for it.
Hikaru stared for an instant. “In your father’s go salon?”
“No, stupid,” Touya exhaled and shoved Hikaru through the door. “In our go.”
***
I can chase after you, and you can chase after me. But we can’t chase after the Hand of God so easily. It’ll come to us, or it won’t. We aren’t the ones who make that decision. Every game we play works towards that greater purpose. That’s what we have to trust in.
Along with each other.
***
It was several days later, and Touya found himself in Hikaru’s room playing a game before their respective matches that afternoon.
“Play your hand, already!” Touya said.
“I’m thinking!”
“Hm,” Touya folded his arms and leaned back. He stared absently around the room, his eyes settling on the poster of Kimeru on the wall above Hikaru’s desk.
Hikaru finally played, a defense of his white cluster in the corner.
“Oi, pay attention Touya,”
Touya glanced down at the board, and placed a stone that connected two of his own clusters at the top.
“Do you want to borrow that poster or something?” Hikaru asked suddenly. “You’ve been staring at it all morning.”
“Uh,” Touya said. “I wasn’t-”
“Or I could just take you to where I got mine,” Hikaru said brightly.
“Uh,” Touya continued articulately. “That’s really not necessary-”
“I insist!” Hikaru said with a wide smile, and pulled Touya to his feet. “You’ll love it. We’ll go now - we have plenty of time before our matches start.”
“But we have to finish the game-”
“Don’t worry, I understand,” Hikaru threw Touya a grin over his shoulder. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
Touya let Hikaru drag him out of the room in silence because, well, it’s not like he had any idea how to respond to that.
And this is how Touya Akira found himself standing outside a manga and anime shop when he really should still be preparing for that afternoon’s match.
“Maybe I should just meet you at the Go Institute,” Touya suggested warily.
“Touya,” Hikaru looked at him sternly. “Have you never been inside a manga store? Don’t you ever do anything for fun? Man cannot live on go alone.”
Touya cleared his throat. “I’m not sure that’s entirely true-” but Hikaru just ignored him and pushed him to the door. Touya tripped over the front step and stumbled inside.
This is also how Touya Akira ended up five minutes late to an official match, for the first time in his life. Whispering a profuse apology to the official, and his opponent, Ashiwara-san, he knelt in proper seiza.
Ashiwara-san, already seated opposite him, hissed, “where have you been?”
Touya could not bring himself to admit aloud that he had been so absorbed in Seigaku’s pillars that he had lost track of the time.
“It’s all Shindou’s fault,” he said instead and that seemed to be a good enough explanation for everyone involved.
***
It seemed to Touya that they were fighting more and more often, these days. He couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t arguing, per se, but more recently, if it wasn’t one petty thing, it was always another.
“What the hell were you thinking, making that move on the upper right?” Hikaru demanded post-game.
Touya massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers. “It was a good move,” he stated, and he felt one of his frequent Shindou-induced headaches coming on.
“No it wasn’t, it sucked,” Hikaru said. “It left your corner completely vulnerable.”
“It would have been okay,” Touya began, “if you hadn’t used the hane against it. That was a weak response.”
“Sure, blame it on me,” Hikaru rolled his eyes. “If you had connected two moves before that, it would have forced my response quicker. I would have had much more trouble controlling the left side.”
“Hn,” Touya sat back. Hikaru did have a point but of course he would never admit to that, ever.
Hikaru gathered his stones with jerky, irritable motions, muttering under his breath and Touya could only catch his own name, along with ‘know-it-all’, ‘unreasonable’ and ‘stubborn’.
Touya’s brow narrowed. “I’m getting tired of you calling me unreasonable all the time.”
“You’d better not even think about playing that way during your next Ouza league game,” Hikaru continued. “I may never forgive you.”
“You should stop getting so worked up,” Touya said brusquely, putting an abrupt end to their conversation. “You have your challenger match to think about.”
***
Hikaru’s opponent for the match to decide the Honinbou challenger seat was an 8-dan, and a terribly strong one, at that.
When Hikaru lost he disappeared immediately afterward, leaving no note, nor any hint of where he might have gone.
The sting he still felt over their last argument had vanished in an instant, only to be replaced by something else; an irritation much, much bigger. Touya was, for some reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, absolutely furious.
Why would he leave? How could he simply seem to disappear from the face of the earth? He had done this before, one other time. It was just after he had become a pro, Touya remembered.
He took to pacing in circles around the house, blatantly ignoring the concerned glances from his mother. He could barely concentrate on the goban; the lines of the grid only blurring together.
“He’ll return, son,” Touya Kouyo’s deep voice said, during the middle of a game the two of them were playing. Touya hadn’t made a move in twenty minutes - it was all he could do to even attempt to focus on the game in front of him. “Just like before.”
But why does he keep doing this? Touya gritted his teeth, arms rigid at his sides and hands clenched into fists.
He ended up losing miserably to his father, with a devastating shortage of ten moku.
Touya laid in bed that night, unable to fall asleep as the game replayed over and over in his head like an old, never ending filmstrip.
He shouldn’t have let anything affect his go so horribly. He hadn’t played that way against his father since he was eight years old with a five-stone handicap.
This wouldn’t have happened before Shindou, he knew. His life had been cool and steady and calm, with a clear and unhindered path laying in wait. No child, amateur, or lower level dan could match him. Hell, even a couple of the upper level dans wouldn’t be able to provide any competition, his father had told him once, early on.
He alone had command of the long path in front of him, and he would not be shaken. Why should he? Go came as naturally to him as walking or talking or breathing did to anyone else. He had been comfortable; maybe too much so.
Then the overwhelming energy and vibrancy that was called Shindou Hikaru had appeared opposite the goban, and his life was suddenly far more complicated and uncertain than he preferred it to be.
His world became a new and terrifying, yet exhilarating place. And he was there, Shindou was always, always, persistently there, following from behind, footsteps fast approaching, and one day, Touya was loathe to say, surpassing. And then Touya would be the one running after him.
And, well.
He wouldn’t change that for anything.
***
Hikaru’s friend, Waya, seemed supremely unconcerned.
“It’s just how Shindou is,” Waya dismissed him through bites of rice, when Touya questioned him in the meal room the next day at the Go Institute.
“But…”
“He’s weird.” Waya gave him an odd look that Touya can’t identify, but is one he typically sees on Hikaru’s friends’ faces when he is around them. “You should know that by now.”
Isumi-san seemed a bit more concerned, so Touya decided he likes him better.
“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Isumi-san said, though his expression belied his unease. “He’s struggled with something similar to this before, and he overcame it. He’ll be back soon enough, probably tomorrow, and then we’ll know we worried for nothing.”
Hikaru did not return the next day, either. Touya sat stiffly on the sofa, listening to the rumble of approaching thunder, and trying and failing to concentrate on his western history homework. It was a Friday, and his parents had departed for a match his father had scheduled in Kansai that weekend.
His restless hands fiddled with a can of cold oolong tea, several drops spilling over the side and onto his pant leg.
Outside, the rain began to pour.
***
Hikaru showed up at his door the following evening, soaked through from the day’s storms, and Touya wanted to slap him but also to give into that strange desire to hug him and never let go, ever.
“Where were you?” Why weren’t you here with me?
Hikaru shrugged one shoulder and let the water drip from the tips of his bangs into his eyes. “Does it matter?”
No, not really, Touya thought. “My parents are away this weekend.” I’m lonely. “Stay over.” Don’t leave again.
“Okay.”
Never leave.
***
Hikaru’s clothes look like they’ve seen better days, so Touya pointed him in the direction of the bathroom with a pile of his own clothes in hand for Hikaru to borrow for the night.
Hikaru glanced dubiously down at the bundle in his arms.
“I do own comfortable clothes, you know,” Touya said. “I don’t exactly sleep in suits, after all.”
“I never would’ve thought it,” Hikaru said innocently, cracking a small grin before heading upstairs.
Hikaru returned a half-hour later in light blue pajama pants, and a long sleeve t-shirt that doesn’t quite cover his wrists.
“I warmed up some supper for you,” Touya said. “In the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Your eyes are bloodshot.”
Touya reached up to rub them, wincing when he felt how sensitive they indeed were. “I haven’t had much sleep, lately.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You didn’t-” Touya began automatically, then paused. “I mean. It’s fine. I guess.”
Touya sat across the kitchen table, watching Hikaru eat in silence because he didn’t quite know what to say, but Hikaru didn’t seem to mind the quiet.
They went upstairs; Touya pointed Hikaru to the guest room, and Touya collapsed on his own futon, falling asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, Touya woke abruptly to a yell from downstairs, and the unwelcome smell of something burning.
“Does he have to start making my life miserable so early?” he muttered, glancing at his alarm clock, but then thought that it was rather nice to start returning to normal, really.
Touya kicked off his blankets and hurried down the stairs. In the kitchen, Hikaru stood frozen, watching a column of smoke rise from a frying pan on the stove.
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Touya rushed to the stove to move the pan off the burner. “Honestly, I don’t know how someone can manage to burn scrambled eggs!”
Hikaru snapped out of it with a jerk and looked at Touya. “It’s not my fault. I like a western style breakfast,” he stated indignantly. “The only things your parents had ready to eat in the fridge were rice and eel!”
“You’ve practically ruined the skillet,” Touya said, scraping the charred remains into the trash bin.
He sat the pan down onto the counter, and turned to Hikaru with an exasperated look.
“The toast came out normal,” Hikaru only said, quite happily, and Touya sank down into his usual seat at the table.
“Ah. As long as the toast is safe,” Touya took a gulp from the glass of orange juice that waited for him at his place. “Then I suppose it’s okay.”
***
It was late afternoon, several days later, as Touya finished with a tutoring session at a student’s house in Hikaru’s neighborhood. And, as they typically do after Touya has shidougo games nearby, he headed over to Hikaru’s house for them to go out for a meal and go.
Shindou-san answered the door and Touya bowed. “Good afternoon,” he said as he walked in.
“Hikaru’s in the living room,” Shindou-san told him, and Touya nodded and headed that direction.
“Shindou, I’m done with-” Touya began as he walked into the room.
“Hush,” Hikaru waved him away, “I’m watching this.” Hikaru sat on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to whatever action was happening on the television.
“Watching what?” Touya peered at the screen. “Shindou, is this-?”
“Quiet!” he snapped. “My favorite song is starting.”
Touya watched for a moment longer. “I didn’t even know you could manage that kind of choreography with tennis racquets in hand,” he commented.
“It’s quite a high technical achievement,” Hikaru said loftily. “Very complex.”
“Are you ready to go yet?”
“When this is over,” Hikaru said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
And Touya sighed and settled himself on the couch. “You’re very strange,” he observed, but Hikaru seemed not to hear.
Hikaru’s program ended an hour later, and by then Touya’s stomach was about ready to eat itself.
“You might want to plan a little better, next time,” Touya said, annoyed, as they finally left the house.
“I didn’t know it would be on!” Hikaru defended himself. “Hey, where are we going for food?”
“The sushi place down the block,” Touya answered.
“Aww,” Hikaru’s face fell and he looked at Touya with sad eyes.
“Don’t sulk,” Touya said. “We had ramen yesterday. It’s my turn to pick.”
“I get to pick the next two times, then!”
Touya doesn’t think that this even remotely follows any rules of logic that he is aware of, but, whatever.
***
After they ate, (and Touya was glad to see Hikaru accept sushi as his fate for the time being, and he ate with much gusto), they walked slowly back to Hikaru’s house in the waning afternoon light.
Touya decided that he quite liked this part of the day - the time where the world is caught between the day and night. The autumn weather brings with it the cool and crisp breeze, the leaves rustling by. The sky is a warm yellow and orange, streaked with purple, and the quiet whispers of the trees welcome the approaching dusk.
And he is walking in companionable silence with Hikaru, feeling full and satisfied after a good meal, and Touya thinks life is pretty grand.
Hikaru, of course, notices none of this but then the effect is ruined anyway as Hikaru’s pocket suddenly blasts You Got Game? at an inhumane decibel level and Touya can’t help but throw him an exasperated look.
“What?” Hikaru asked as he fished out his cell phone and flipped it open. “Yeah? Oh, hi Waya.”
Touya can only shake his head.
“Your ringtone is set as Be Shiny,” Hikaru whispered to him before returning to his conversation.
“Hm,” Touya said noncommittally but he seems to recall hearing that song before and remembers that it wasn’t half-bad, really.
***
“I have lost.”
“Thank you for the game. You played well, Shindou.”
“…it was a good game.”
“Yes.”
“But still not the game...”
“Of course not.”
***
On the day Touya beat his father, he thought he could see the world quite possibly coming to an end, crashing to a ruin all around him.
It had been in an international tournament that both he and his father had participated in. Touya Kouyo for Korea; Touya Akira for Japan. They had met in the semi-finals, and of course it was all the media and the spectators could talk about. Touya had felt an enormous pressure going into it, which was unusual for him, but his father had seemed as calm and collected as ever.
The spectators witnessed a remarkable match. Black and white had been in near-perfect balance, trading advantages for the entire game.
White won, by a solid one and a half moku. Touya had gone on to win the tournament, though everyone agreed he did not play as well in the final game as he did in the semi.
“The world is not ending,” Hikaru said now. “You’re so dramatic.”
Hikaru did not seem to be paying attention to their game anymore; instead, he only looked toward Touya with a calculating gaze. Touya still stared stubbornly at the board.
“I didn’t say it was,” Touya responded, his voice unruffled.
“I can see it in your eyes,” Hikaru snapped. “You think there’s nothing left, that you can’t go any further now. That’s stupid.”
“You’re imagining things,” Touya said, deliberately placing a stone with a loud pa-chi, ignoring his opponent.
“Oh, of course, I see now,” Hikaru said sarcastically. “I’m only the person who understands you best, after all.”
“I suppose that is what makes you special,” Touya said, with the air of humoring a small child.
“I know how you think, Touya,” Hikaru snapped at him. “And I know when you’re being an idiot.”
“It’s just…” Touya gave in. His head fell forward, and he let his bangs cover his eyes. “How could it have happened? In an international tournament, no less, where the entire world could witness it.”
Hikaru watched him steadily, eyes narrowing.
“It’s just. It’s so early. There’s so much time left,” he mused softly. “How could it be over already?”
“You’re such a bastard, Touya!” Hikaru yelled suddenly and Touya jumped, startled.
“Stop being so selfish!” Hikaru grabbed his bag, the expression in his eyes downright livid as he stormed from the room.
Touya stared at the abandoned game for a moment longer, oblivious to the other patrons’ murmuring around him, before bringing a clenched fist down on the board with a loud bang that rocked the table. The stones scattered everywhere, but Touya could only focus on the empty seat in front of him.
***
As only the cruel odds of fate could have managed it, the two of them had been scheduled to play an official ranking match the following afternoon.
And, as irritated as they could become with each other either during or after a match, going into an ooteai match angry, before it even started, was only asking for trouble, and this is why Touya found himself at Hikaru’s door that morning.
“Good morning,” Touya said, as Hikaru answered the door.
“Hello,” Hikaru said flatly. “Come in, I guess. My parents aren’t home.”
Touya stepped through the entryway and pulled off his shoes before following Hikaru to the sitting area.
They sat for several moments before Touya ventured, “Shindou…”
“I’m still angry,” Hikaru said stubbornly.
“Listen, the game with my father… I saw it, halfway through. I saw that I had the chance to win. I needed to keep playing and even if I wanted to stop, I wouldn’t have been able to.”
“I’m not angry about the game! Why should I be? It was an amazing game,” Hikaru said.
“Then why-?”
“I’m talking about after. You were only thinking about yourself,” Hikaru continued, eyes hard like stones and arms stiffly folded across his middle. “Don’t you understand? A game like that, no matter how perfect it is, can’t be the end, it can’t be over just like that, because we’re going to reach the Hand of God together, Touya. Nothing else will possibly be able to measure up to that.”
“But what if that one game had turned out to be the game, after all?” Touya voiced a fear that he hadn’t bared until now, and probably didn’t even know he had. He was acutely aware that he had played his best that day against his father. “What if, ages from now, the go world reflects back on that game and realizes that was it, and suddenly that’s the end of all things? What else can we do, if that happens?”
At that, Hikaru cracked a small grin, and shook his head. “You’re still not getting it, Touya. I said we will reach it together. Together. So, you see, that couldn’t have been the Hand of God. Because you weren’t playing it with me.”
Strangely enough, Hikaru’s words made a certain kind of valid sense to Touya. For a split second he felt rather jealous that Hikaru always seemed to have a deep, almost unconscious insight to things that should, in retrospect, be obvious.
“I intend to keep playing you, the best I know how, until we find it,” Hikaru continued. “What about you?
“You’re right,” Touya said. “You’re right, Shindou.” Clearly, not just finding the Hand of God, but finding it with Shindou would surpass everything else the world had to offer. Clearly.
“It’s going to be you, and me. No one else,” Touya finished. Because that’s how it’s always been, and Touya could see no reason why that would ever change.
“Good. I’m glad you’ve finally seen the light,” Hikaru said, his tone considerably more upbeat. “Took you long enough.”
“I must not have your incredible perception,” Touya said by way of explanation.
Hikaru snorted. “Whatever.”
“I’m relieved we’ve resolved this before our match.”
“Oh,” Hikaru looked like he just remembered something vitally important. “Our game!”
“You forgot?” Touya asked in disbelief.
“I’ve been distracted by your pigheadedness,” Hikaru responded. “Hey, maybe we’ll find it this afternoon!” he continued, vibrantly.
“Why are you in such a rush to find it, lately?” Touya asked. “We have a lifetime.”
Hikaru’s face closed off, and Touya was suddenly unable to read what he was thinking. “He thought that, too,” he almost mumbled.
“Who?”
“…Don’t worry about it.”
Touya grabbed his hand. “We’ll reach it, you know.”
Hikaru stared down at their linked hands.
“Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day, in the future,” he stated firmly, because Hikaru seemed to need this reassurance from him. “I promise.”
Hikaru smiled and stood up, not letting go.
“…Touya?” Hikaru asked, and Touya inwardly sighed.
“Yes, Shindou.”
“When exactly do you think-?”
“Many years,” Touya said.
Hikaru grinned. “Come on, let’s go back to the manga shop. It’ll help us relax before the match.”
And Touya would have protested but he was a bit busy trying to figure out why exactly Hikaru was tracing small circles on the back of his hand.
***
They arrived at the Go Institute ten minutes before start time, and took their places at the assigned goban.
“All right. Let’s play, Touya!” Hikaru pumped his fist in the air, ignoring the frowns from the pros kneeling next to them. “The Hand of God is close, I can feel it!”
“You have invented a new kind of torture,” Touya said pristinely. “It’s amazing, really, that I continue to play with you and willingly put myself through this suffering.”
“You must have been taken in by my indefinable allure,” Hikaru responded with something resembling an evil grin, “and now it is far too late to escape my clutches.”
“Yes, something close to that.” The bell rang, signaling the start of the match, and Touya grabbed a handful of stones. “Nigiri.”
They play, and Touya can see right away that it will soon turn into a magnificent game.
He watched as Hikaru contemplated the board briefly before slamming his move down. Hikaru’s eyes met his own, blazing and forceful, and it sent a thrill running down Touya’s spine.
It occurred to him, all at once, that it would be perfectly okay to spend the rest of his life this way.
Touya wanted to keep playing, forever and always. Not just go, of course he wanted, needed to play go, but more importantly, he needed to play go with Shindou. Shindou constantly pushed him forward. Without Shindou, Touya’s go wouldn’t be Touya’s go any longer, but something foreign, unfamiliar. Shindou made his go what it was.
Maybe his go affected Shindou the same way.
He blinked, and refocused on the board. They’re in chuuban, and Hikaru’s play on the left side was superb, wonderful even.
In every single game he played with Shindou, they found something new, or different, or downright crazy. Or a hand so exciting they discussed it for weeks afterward. It had always been like that. All of the games they play hold something unique and brilliant and breathtaking.
Each game in their past exists for every game in their future.
Hikaru cut his stones on the upper right corner. Touya paused for a moment, eyes narrowing, reading into the pattern before placing a stone that would force Hikaru to respond or otherwise lose several moku.
Hikaru let his breath out in a slow hiss, eyes meeting Touya’s again. A small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth as he responded with a tsuke to Touya’s stone. Touya blinked rapidly at the formation; he didn’t see this one coming, at all, and recognized that it was one of Hikaru’s traps. Now he would have to work very hard to save the corner.
Touya gritted his teeth, and slammed the next move down beside Hikaru’s, and the battle continued.
Quite possibly, Touya thought, he and Shindou continue playing and searching only for the purpose of driving each other on. They push other go players as well, he knew, and other games, and maybe those games push every game ever played. Touya imagined lines drawn on a globe, connecting every go player, every game, with another.
Every game.
Touya drew a slow intake of breath.
Maybe…
Maybe they got it wrong?
It was immediately after this electrifying realization that Touya, studying the board for several moments, resigned.
***
Afterwards, it was early in the evening, and they went to Touya’s house since it was closest to the Go Institute.
“Your parents aren’t home?” Hikaru asked, as they entered the darkened house.
“They’re away for a match,” Touya said, softly, subdued.
“Oh,” Hikaru said, and gazed at Touya quizzically.
They went into the kitchen and ate a fast dinner, before heading up to Touya’s room to review their game of that afternoon.
They replayed the opening moves without much discussion.
“You’ve been quieter than usual since the match finished,” Hikaru commented finally, “and for you, that’s really saying something.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I,” Hikaru said. “I just mean, are you upset about something?”
“No, of course not,” Touya responded, and forced himself to smile. “I’m just thinking.”
They had finished laying out the game through chuuban. “Here,” Hikaru said, pointing. “That was a breaking point for black. And…” Hikaru finished laying the stones. “You resigned after I took your territory here. I can’t believe you missed that, Touya!”
“You played a good game,” Touya told him.
“Yeah it was a great game, wasn’t it?” Hikaru smiled. “And maybe that wasn’t quite it, Touya, but we’re getting closer!”
“Shindou,” Touya said quickly. “Maybe… maybe the Hand of God is not just in one game. But instead it is in every game.”
Hikaru, in the midst of cleaning up the stones, merely blinked at him in response. “How’s that now?”
“Maybe it can be found in all the games of go ever played,” he hesitated to voice his thoughts out loud, but if he couldn’t share them with Hikaru, as he did nearly everything else, then what good were they?
“Those games that are far away in the past, right here in the present, and those yet to come in the future. Even a future long after we’re gone. Didn’t you say, once, that you play go in order to connect the distant past to the distant future?”
“Yes,” Hikaru’s eyes were wide. His hand stilled on the stones and he left them scattered on the board, his full attention on Touya.
“Maybe we’re too naïve and narrow-minded to think of it just as just one game and that’s it, it’s all over and done with,” Touya replied, heart quickening because yes, yes, yes this must be it, after all, this has to be the explanation they’ve needed this whole time.
“I think I’ve just realized, Shindou…” Touya said slowly. “It’s just how you were thinking when you lost the Honinbou match… how I felt when I beat my father. Perhaps we’ve been too distracted in letting the search cloud our minds. If we focus solely on searching for perfection, we’ll never find it. And there ends up being no point.
“Instead, the Hand of God… maybe it progresses as the player himself progresses. It constantly moves to a higher level, so that it pulls us up as well. Each game holds something new and mysterious to be unlocked, and we grow as a result of it. So when we finally achieve something we’ve worked so hard for, it won’t be the end, but there will still be another step in front of us.”
“…And yet another after that?”
“It’s relentless. Never ending.”
“There is no end,” Hikaru repeated Touya’s own words from only a couple years ago, but somehow it already felt like a lifetime.
The chase after the Hand of God is the means to continuously push forward to the next level, so that we may one day find that higher meaning we’re so desperately looking for within ourselves.
***
It’s an endless succession of mountain climbing. We finally reach the top of one peak only to encounter another, taller peak stretching in front of us. There’s no point in being in it for the destination, because we can never truly get there.
We’re in it for the view along the way.
***
They sat beside each other in silence, unable to move for several minutes. Touya contemplated his own words, and could do nothing more than sit there and try to understand.
He finally looked over and met Hikaru’s eyes, wide and green and seeing a reflection of his own thoughts and knows that Hikaru, too, just gets it.
“Touya?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” he said softly, and smiles.
“Oh, I…” Touya suddenly felt awkward. “I didn’t really do anything…”
“You did everything,” Hikaru said. “And… I think I’ve decided… that I’ll just let things be what they will be,” he finished slowly.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Hikaru said.
There was a short pause where Touya tried very hard not to feel relieved because he knew there had to be a catch somewhere, and he also remembered not to underestimate Shindou when he got that strange glint in his eyes as he did sometimes.
“Of course, some other things…” Hikaru started. “Some other things, every now and then, do need a little intervention.” And Hikaru grasped the front of Touya’s shirt, and, ignoring the startled gasp, pulled him forward to meet the hot press of his mouth.
Oh, Touya thought wildly. Oh my god. What-?
For a long second, Touya couldn’t move. He could only focus on soft lips, also frozen and unmoving, on his own.
Shindou is kissing me. Why is Shindou kissing me?
Well, why not? answered an obviously better-informed part of his brain.
Then, eyes falling shut, Touya tentatively moved his lips against Hikaru’s. A small sound, a catch of breath issued from Hikaru’s mouth, and Hikaru pressed closer, arm curling around Touya’s shoulders to grasp the back of his head. Touya, thinking that he should return the touch, reached forward with one trembling hand to rest on Hikaru’s side.
All rational thought flew from his mind as he felt a tongue push against his lips, seeking entrance. Touya parted his lips, and felt a new and wonderful sensation of Hikaru’s tongue dipping into his mouth and meeting his own. Hikaru’s other hand felt so very warm and soothing against his cheek, and a shiver ran down his entire body, setting his nerve endings on fire.
“Oh,” Touya said, his voice low against Hikaru’s lips. “I… I’m… you think that I-?” That I may just be a little bit in love with you?
That might explain quite a bit, actually.
“Of course you are, you idiot,” Hikaru murmured.
“And… and you-?”
Hikaru leaned back just far enough to roll his eyes. “Do you even need to ask that?”
And Touya realized that no, no he didn’t, and he should really be focusing less on thinking right now, thankyou, and concentrate instead on the way Hikaru’s body pressing against his once more feels like the last piece of a previously unknown puzzle sliding into place.
***
They play the game with a frenzy of movement, no time to think between moves but to only respond to the other, to meet each other stone for stone, hands almost colliding over the board, and simply play for the sheer joy and exhilaration of playing.
They leave the onlookers breathless, but they are both oblivious to anyone other than the person across the goban.
Hikaru places the last stone and the game ends with silent agreement.
Both boys pause and can do nothing but stare at the board. Chests heave; they try to catch their breaths, eyes wide and unmoving. Hikaru grasps his fan so tightly in one hand that his knuckles turn white.
“Oh,” Hikaru says at last.
“Oh,” Touya breathes.
Touya has never seen a more beautiful game.
“Was that it? Is that the end?” one of the spectators whispers into the silence.
“No,” Touya answers. “It’s the beginning.”