Suddenly
Disclaimer: Hotta and Obata's. Not mine.
Rating: K+
Summary/Notes: Twenty years of hopes and dreams are gone, just like that... Isumi/Waya. Written for LJ community 30kisses.
Largely contemplative, angsty, written in present tense and the-most-awesome-and-to-be-feared second person.
You watch him closely, mesmerized by every movement and word as he explains the problem to the other insei gathered around the goban. They all listen carefully, hanging onto his every word. He's clearly the leader of this group, the most respected of the insei, everyone's beloved older brother. Your best friend.
Whenever they start to drop hints about something going on between you and him, you disclaim that he's "just a friend" and turns to Nase, teasing and flirting with her to divert their thoughts. You can't let them know, can't let him find out how you really feel.
Not yet. Maybe one day you'll find the courage, but no today.
So today you just sit by him, and take in all the little details, every last thing that makes you love him so much.
The days pass. Junior high comes and goes, high school looms on the horizon. You've taken and failed the pro exam yet again. You're determined not to fall this year, determined not to let your dream dissipate. That afternoon, going over some old kifus together, you say to him, "Isumi-san, let's promise to pass this year."
He smiles, and you feel your heart beat faster. "Yes," he agrees, "we'll definitely pass this time. Both of us."
Something about the way he says that makes you smile, and blush ever so slightly. You want to say something more, take the opportunity to tell him...but can't muster the guts to say it. Funny. You can attack Mashiba in the middle of a tournament without a second thought, but courage fails you on a simple matter of three little words.
Still, you tell yourself, there's no need to hurry. You can always tell him next time.
But deep inside you know you won't, because next time you're still going to be afraid, this irrationally overwhelming fear of being hurt. It's like watching an impossibly beautiful star, burning so brightly. Your heart is crying to hold that beauty in your hands, but you're still afraid of being burned.
The year flies by. You become a pro, but he doesn't. Your heart aches for him, but you must pursue your own dream as well. So you push on, trying to forget about him. But you cannot, and slowly, the constant distraction of longing to be with him wears down your go.
When he is in China you stare at the phone every night, wanting to call him and hear his voice, but hesitant because it is treading into deeper waters. In the end you wait for his return. You are overjoyed to see him, but also slightly puzzled, slightly annoyed, and more than slightly hurt to hear him talk endlessly about Le Ping. You don't want to consider the thought that he's found someone to replace you in his life.
The next year brings changes again. He finally passes the pro exam, and with a perfect record too. You're delighted. You and he are both in the same world now. You can practically feel the doors opening to a new future.
The future somehow only seems to take him father away from you. You see him often, on game days, at study groups, at conventions and lectures, ut somehow now, the age difference that never mattered before suddenly weighs heavily on your mind. He is twenty, long since an adult, but you are still technically a minor.
Still a teenager. And a hormonal one at that, if the wayward thoughts and dreams have anything to prove. You wake up often with a faintly sweet taste in your mouth, remembering your dream about him. You wonder now, more seriously, how he would react if you let him know. Will he be repulsed? Will he push you away? It seems far too likely. You don't want to be rejected. You still fear the pain of loss.
So you try to bury your feelings and lose yourself in the maze of the goban. Go has always been a loyal companion, and studying deep into the night leaves you too tired to think too much, and your sleep becomes dreamless. You are glad for that. But your heart is still raw from missing him.
The years fly by all to fast, and suddenly, you're staring down twenty-five with less than a month to spare. What happened to those teenage days of naivete and dreams?
You still devote your life to go, but now you wonder just how far it can take you. You've lectured at countless conventions, played more shidougo than anyone can shake a stick at, and had been knocked out of the title tournaments year after year by greater players, the giants of the Japanese go world: Ogata, Kurata, Touya, Shindou, Kadowaki...and Isumi.
You still believe in striving for the Hand of God, but compared to the brilliance of those stars you slowly feel your own enthusiasm withering.
And still you haven't told him.
You're already in your mid-twenties, a handsome, sought-after bachelor but still a perfect virgin. Not even a kiss, though Nase came dangerously close one year. You pushed her away at the last moment, like all other girls. The only one you want is him, but you're too afraid to let him know.
You take refuge in the fact that you're still friends with him, and that he doesn't seem to be the dating type either. You continue to tell yourself: tomorrow, tomorrow...
Suddenly, you're thirty, and he's gone.
A rare blood disease, the doctors say. Very rare. They had no warning at all. It is indeed a tragedy, as can be attested to by the flood of tears and grief from family, friends, and fans alike. You feel numb, too stunned to feel or cry.
It doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make sense that he can be gone forever, just like that.
You never got to tell him you love him.
You never got to live out the dream of you and him, together. Your first kiss is still unstolen, your love still unfulfilled.
You didn't even get to say good-bye.
Almost twenty years of waiting, longing, fearing, and hoping, and suddenly all your dreams are dashed by a cruel twist of fate. You watched time slip through your fingers, never realizing how fast the years go by until it is too late.
There are no more next time's, your tomorrows have run out.
A broken heart is like shattered glass, all the pieces splintering at once, raining shining fragments like so many of your tears and leaving only brokeness, pain, and no way of turning back.
You still remember every year, every day, every moment you ever spent with him. First meeting at the Institute, training together as insei, taking and failing and finally passing the pro exams, continuing to walk forward on the path toward the Hand of God you believed in. You also remember the more intimate moments as friends. Chatting together, going to go salons, dragging him to the arcade, going for lunch at McDonald's.
Hand of God. Success. What does it matter now? Go can only be played by two. The path of life is not meant to be walked alone.
Suddenly, so suddenly, he is gone.
