Final days
Characters: Hikaru, Sai.
Genres: Slight AU, Drama, Friendship.
Synopsis: God has listened to them, and time has turned back. But since Hikaru doesn't remember Sai, he takes his visions and dreams as a premonition of his own death. Now they have to hurry and achieve the Hand of God in a race against fate.
Hikaru no Go belongs to Hotta Yumi and Obata Takeshi. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author: Kareninie
Beta-reader: candymarie55
I
They are running.
It might well be a hopeless case for the girl. She follows the distant figure of her best friend, tries to catch her breath to yell for him to wait, and fails. She could easily give this up, slow down to a full stop that doesn't bring her to trip over her own steps; no missing a beat to shout that her friend is just a stupid boy; again. But things aren't usually like this, he should have told her to go back home already, for he doesn't want such a slow, useless girl as friend; doesn't need her, never has. He shouldn't be urging her to catch up with such a strained expression, look this serious. So she keeps going even when her sides hurt too much.
Life is upside down today.
She figured it out this morning, when Hikaru stepped into the classroom dragging along a younger boy he hadn't talked to before – if the protests, kicks and confused shouts coming from the assaulted were anything to go by – and the way the eldest shoved him away as soon as he spotted her could confirm it. The hurried, foolish explanation he intended to impose was just a lie. Fujisaki knows better, but doesn't make it easier for her to understand.
-…have you ever seen a dead person, Akari?
-You mean like a ghost?
-Idiot! I'm talking about a corpse: in a funeral, an accident or something. Geez, what are you, eight? She ignores the insult; she has learned to tune out Shindo's mockery. Still pouts for a moment or two.
-…my great-aunt died when I was eight. You were in the funeral too, remember?
He does not, but this she doesn't need to know, so he swallows the last bit of his bento, sighs and finally asks.
-Did you see her die?
-No! Why are you asking such things, Hikaru?
He usually wouldn't bother, that is true; and he knows he's being meddlesome, which is more her nature than his, but it doesn't matter anymore. All the questions he was about to ask are as good as forgotten, knowing now she can't give him the answers he wants.
Did she ask her if it hurt? Was she in pain when it happened? Was she afraid? Can you really see God a few moments before; does such thing even exist? Is there a light to guide us? How about angels? Do people reincarnate? Is that the end?
His mother couldn't answer his questions either, and Hikaru wonders if she could be still crying for the brother she hadn't talked about in several years, if he should avoid home until cutting it close his curfew. Decides then to go to the arcade and remembers he doesn't have any money left.
-We're going to grandpa's place after practice.
It's not a question.
It could be just her imagination, an irrational part of her mind trying to convince her that Hikaru is human too, even if he's a boy, a twelve-year-old one for that matter: abrasive, insensible, selfish, lazy and annoying. She could go on for hours about it and yet would have to admit (in a whisper if he's anywhere close) that he's gentle when he tries, if possible, now more than when they were little kids; if she fails to point it out in a while by not even being nicer herself. He's probably not that selfish, then.
-Come on, Akari! We're almost there!
Whatever he is or not, contrary to her beliefs or exactly alike, Hikaru is acting wary today. Not afraid, for she hasn't seen him so before, and because he's still his usual loud, irrational, dumb self; but somehow odd, as if he couldn't stand open spaces, the rain, the silence and being alone.
Fujisaki hopes she's just watching one too many soap operas and starting to be paranoid.
They're finally there, and Hikaru almost doesn't announce their arrival; not that their grandparents would mind that much or he couldn't make up a lie right in the spot, "You're getting too old, grandpa; can't even hear anymore", but he would rather not mess up his regained confidence – after all, this is the first time he feels absolutely safe since waking up. His ego aside, "Sorry, I forgot" is starting to sound as a respectable response.
-We're coming in; grandpa, grandma!
-…I don't think they're… here, Hikaru. The girl minds to close the door behind their steps, and takes off her shoes, putting on the guest flip-flops over wet socks. Absentmindedly, Hikaru does the same.
Even surrounded by pure darkness, in this place he feels calm, temperance, a knowledge and experience he can't grasp but is attracted to. Somehow this is the first piece of the riddle nagging in the back of his mind since he woke up this morning, a prayer still ringing in his ears.
"God, please, return things to the beginning! Turn time back to when I first met him!"
He might not believe in dreams, premonitions or signs, and wouldn't think of claiming those tears and words' despair as his, but it was his voice nonetheless, probably his hands those he saw protecting his eyes from the brightness, even if bigger, rougher and more tanned; his body trapped in a nightmare. Tradition says it's a bad omen, and so his body confirms. What escapes his comprehension is why the idea of burglarizing the familiar attic is making him so anxious. But he promises himself this is a time only incident; he won't let himself turn into a ruffian.
-Are you sure…?
-Yeah, yeah. You just stay right here and tell me when they get home, 'k?
She just nods, still too out of breath to do anything else, let alone following him upstairs.
It has to be bad luck, life's idea of a tasteless joke, that the only object calling his attention in the room, old enough to be valuable, is a blood-stained goban. He can't take his eyes off of it, which scares, confuses and thrills him all at once.
-Did you find anything, Hikaru?
He responds to his friend's far-off question with a grin he knows she can't see, but he doesn't care. The amusement in his voice might be odd, but Hikaru knows this is what he was looking for, what he was missing the whole day. Whether he'll sell it or not, this is something still up to decision.
-Yeah. It's covered with blood, though. He snickers, thinking about Fujisaki's scared expression when she gets to see it. When he proceeds to clean the surface with an old rag, an unexpected shiver goes up his spine.
-Blood?
It's a powerful, hopeful and imposing male voice unknown to him. It is everywhere and nowhere, by his side, in front of him and behind him; but in his excitement, it doesn't occur to Hikaru to question its source.
-Yeah, see, here in the corner. It's cool, anyway. How much do you think…? his chat is interrupted, he frowns.
-Can you see the bloodstains?
It's that male voice again.
-What do you mean? Of course I can!
Shindo finally tears his gaze away from the board, and turns around to scowl to his friend, only to find himself alone. The presence is here anyway, no matter how, it's talking to him.
-Can you hear my voice?
More than that, he can feel it in his bones, in the back of his mind, under his skin, enclosed in his chest, between his fingers. It's everywhere, but the ghostly figure coming from the goban is only in front of him. Shindo, on the other hand, he can't even hear anymore.
-Hikaru? Is there something wrong? I can't hear you. Hikaru?
The boy tries to stand up. Wants to run and not look back. He doesn't, however, for his legs refuse to do so; his body has already given up, he's still on his knees, staring at the young man dressed in traditional Heian clothes who grants him such a passionate gaze.
-You can see me too, right? …All powerful gods, I thank you!
He wonders if this is what Akari's great-aunt saw before she died, this spirit coming from something of her affection, calling for her, embracing her. Is this the same beautiful presence, the same voice and warmth or is this his vision only, pulled out from his subconscious as something he could admire and surrender to? This is it, he thinks, what his dream-self was talking about, this exact moment, this peace; he's about to die and his soul can only long the beauty and tranquility overflowing from this spirit before going to hell.
God is cruel: Hikaru doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to die yet. He wants to stay.
Far from him, Akari cries for help.
TBC