Taste
by mewling


The hot summer air,
Sweating, I cannot forget
The taste of your skin

Ka-chink!

Touya Akira sets down his stone, waiting for the next move. It is early in the game, and each is laying the foregrounds for their attacks.

Akira is spending his Sunday in a small, private room off a go salon. This game, like all games, is very important to him. In his mind, he has entered a separate, 'igo' reality, of which few know. In this state, Akira has eliminated all distractions; all that exists is himself, his opponent, the goban and stones.

The patterns of black and white that a forming on the goban could seem like a confused hap dash of shiny stones to the ignorant, but to Akira they are a complex tapestry, only partly woven. At this stage he knows he is winning. But one thing that playing against this particular opponent is that you may never know until the last second who will win.

He is excited. Others may never know the thrill of this game that makes his heart race and his adrenaline run. Someone who doesn't love go as much as he would never understand the excitement that comes of any game, and the pure mental challenges of an indescribable beauty. Akira glances, almost shyly, at his opponent across the goban, who is in an equally fierce state of concentration.

He is glad he can share these things with Shindou.

Shindou Hikaru is frowning in his concentration. His back is slightly hunched, and his eyes are focused on the board. Akira watches him, wanting to know what he will do next. His hand reaches to the side, towards the stones. He's finally going to make his move, Akira thinks eagerly. The boy's hand instead hits a small tube, and he picks it up.

"Touya, would you like some chocolate?" he asks, opening the tube of Marble (1) chocolate, tipping some of the small round chocolates into his palm. As Shindou pops one into his mouth and there is a crk sound as he bites into it.

For a while Akira could not say a thing.

"Well?" Shindou demands. The expression on his face assures Akira this is no joke.

"…chocolate," he says at last. "We're in the middle of a game and you're eating…chocolate?"

"Yup! But not just any chocolate." Shindou looks quite pleased with himself, and somewhere in the depths of his utter shock Akira can feel himself becoming angry. "Look at this." Shindou holds the chocolate between his pliant fingers in the air above the goban.

Akira looks.

The boy slowly swivels the chocolate. "You see! It's dark on one side… and light on the other! You could play go with it!"

Struggling to keep his temper, Akira supposes it does bear some (abstract) resemblance to a go stone. Across the goban, Shindou looks so happy and proud of his discovery as he crunches his chocolates. But there is one thing he can't shake.

"Fascinating," he says, "however, couldn't this have waited until after the game, Shindou?"

Clutching the tube tightly in one hand, Shindou rubs his neck almost embarrassedly with the other. "Well, yes. It's just that, I bought this a few days ago and really wanted to show you, except you came in really fast and I didn't have time before hand. I couldn't keep concentrated during the game, so I thought…" He trailed off, uncomfortably.

Akira is touched, he really is, that Shindou had bought this chocolate specifically for him. But it is far outweighed by his anger at the interrupted game. "I can't believe you!"

"You don't want any?"

Akira shakes his head far more vehemently than is necessary. Shindou's expression is hurt, but determined. "Do you hate chocolate?" he asks.

He doesn't hate it. In fact, Belgian chocolate, occasionally- once a year (Ichikawa gives him Valentine chocolate) or so (maybe with company) - and with lots of strong black coffee, he finds quite enjoyable. That is not the issue. This game he loves so much--! He sets his mouth in a hard line. "I have nothing against chocolate. I just don't want any."

Shindou pouts childishly. "But I bought it especially for you…c'mon… Don't be such an old man, Touya."

He'd like to think that it's more that these special games have been interrupted. But Akira has never done anything so casual as eat cheap Marble chocolate. He's never even done anything beyond a game of go with anyone his own age. He realises the reason he feels uncomfortable with Shindou is because of his childish and almost boisterously friendly manner that makes him feel –as Shindou so flatteringly stated- like an old man. He may as well end his sentences with –kane. (2)

Sometimes, Akira would find himself wishing he was on the same level as Shindou and his friends. He wonders if behind his manners and education if there is any interesting quality he has to offer in a friendship.

As Shindou continues discusses at length to a contemplative Akira the merits of playing go with chocolate, Akira's eyes stray to the goban. He wonders what kind of bond exist between him and Shindou through this game and realises he had never thought of doing anything else. If he had never begun playing go, would he have ever known Shindou?

He doesn't know why, but this thought makes him sad.

Shindou's voice snaps him out of his reverie. Akira, staring at his face, started, wondering when he became so close to him. "Let's play a game (3). If I get you to eat this chocolate, I win." The evil glint in his eyes chills Akira's bones.

"Shindou, what are you on about?" Akira says, backing up form the goban slightly, beginning to feel nervous. "We're already playing a game—"

Shindou leant forward further, the chocolate meld menacingly in one hand, and the open chocolate tube in the other. Akira backs away.

"W-wait, Shindou… Just a…" Akira sounds unusually flustered as Shindou continues to advance, "There's really no need to…"

Time probably isn't passing as slowly as Akira finds himself leaning back further and further and Shindou seems to creep forward purposefully slow-- until his knee hits the goban, at least.

Crash! Ping Ping!

Predictably, Shindou has tripped, sending small chocolates to the four corners of the room and over the goban. Shindou, now sprawled uncomfortably over Akira, is trying to lift himself up, without much success.

"Here, I brought you some te-"

There is a second crash as Ichikawa, in vain, attempts no to let her tray fall to the ground. From his awkward angle below Shindou, he can see her face as it turns an unbecoming shade of crimson as she backs out of the room. He becomes horribly aware of the implications of his and Shindou's relative positions. He can hear Shindou's breath, hard from the fall, against his cheek.

"I-I'll come back later." Ichikawa's eyes are impossibly wide as she stumbles backwards, closing the door. Through the shrinking opening, he can see the rest of the go salon staring in shock.

Akira scrambles upwards to position himself so he is supported on his elbows. "Ichikawa, it's not what you—mmph!"

Shindou, taking advantage of Akira's open mouth, slips the chocolate in. He rocks backward onto his heel as Akira is frozen in shock.

"Gotcha," he says, voice softly teasing.

For some reason, Akira finds himself blushing uncontrollably. His hand covers his mouth and he watches Shindou, who is grinning proudly for having won a game of 'go' against him.

The goban, with its unfinished game mingling with two coloured chocolate, lies to the side, abandoned.

And for once, Akira doesn't really mind.


A/N:

(1) A somewhat old brand of round chocolates with hard coverings (like M&Ms, but about 2cm in diameter) kept in a tube. I don't know if they do (or did) provide two-colour chocolates. I remember eating these (two colour chocolates) when I was a fair bit younger, but I don't recall their name. Bother.
(2) If you don't already know, it's just something middle aged men end their sentences with. I think.
(3) Hey, Hikaru! It's not Yu-Gi-Oh!

I felt very awkward about this, since I hadn't really thought anything through beyond the fact there'd be chocolate. I feel Hikaru comes through as more rude and intrusive (bratty) than I would've liked, and the dialogue between them is correspondingly ungainly.

(And that haiku is so suggestive…)

It was also (in my opinion) less subtle than I would've liked. I hate directly hitting upon relationships, and feel that the depth of emotion is greater when it is alluded to. Am I making sense?

I wondered about the ending lines. There are places in the story when I felt lines would make good endings, like "He is glad he can share these things with Shindou," and "He doesn't know why, but this thought makes him sad."