Title: Cocoon (Mayu)
Author: shichou
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Type: shonen-ai
Pairing: Hikaru x Akira
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Notes: An odd drabble. I'm not a big fan of the ending, but the story kept sticking in my mind so I wrote it.
- MAYU -
There was an attic in Hikaru's house just like his grandfather's. Full of disregarded pieces and memorabilia. Hikaru sometimes went up to the dirty attic for peace and to connect with Sai, as if he haunted every attic. But, time had passed and Hikaru knew Sai wasn't going to pop up like someone opened a geanie lamp behind him. He stopped going to attic for Sai, but he didn't stop going. There wasn't a go board to draw him, and his old toys weren't a exciting anymore. It was something hidden.
Along the wall of old furniture and a chest holding his parents wedding attire, there were a stack of photos and other wall hangings. The things you either get as a gift or when you move into a house find no longer fitting. Stacked inside all of these was an old wooden thick picture frame with burled edges. Something a novice wood carver would make as his first project. Almost like the love and curiosity of the unskilled hands made up for the inexperience and poor quality of the wood. Just one step higher from a kid's kindergarten project.
Hikaru grabbed the knobby frame and often dusted it off with the edge of his shirt. Since no matter how frequent his trips came up there the frame seemed eternally in need of dusting. Under the glass of the frame held a monarch butterfly. Pinned to the faded felt back with pearl tipped pins with it's wings outstretched. At the bottom someone had placed a bent note-card with scrawled calligraphy "Danaus plexippus".
Overtime like the case, the butterfly had faded. One antennae hanging precariously bent, and one wing tattered at its edges. The butterfly seemed to revel in this. Stretching its wings out more, like the brilliance of it's autumn orange and brown made up for its tattered afterlife. It was almost proud of its own demise.
Hikaru had become more and more introspective since Sai had left. It was to be expected when your best friend disappeared and you were left in a world of adults and complexity. The people he could call his friends were enemies against the board and his win/loss record was so perillious as to bring him acclaim or criticism with each move he made. He was more alone than he had ever been, void.
So his way of dealing with the pressure was to think of his faded butterfly. Time lapse in his mind staring at the framed butterfly. As the wings shredded and fell to the bottom of the frame. All that would be left would be the pins, the note card and flecks at the bottom of the felt. When he pictured the sequence, time washed over him as well and his play upon the Go board was just his way of marking that passage of time.
In his daze Hikaru looked up from his board and saw his reflection. It wasn't really him, like all reflections. It was distorted and changed and almost its own entity, and Hikaru was as entranced by it as he had been with the butterfly. It was like looking at his own face and being amazed by it, something you have always but never really see. But it wasn't his face... it was something far more different and pure. The face staring back at him was comforting. Whether it held anger, respect or solace Hikaru didn't know. It was just there.
Hikaru decided he wanted to change that reflection one day. The opposite of him. To shake the water that held that reflection just to watch the ripples change and distort his face. Through the sound of stones on the go board he touched it. Like the pattern of the stones made a diagram to how Hikaru desired to caress and enjoy its brilliance. It was like the butterfly, hurt and pinned for all to see, but so different. So much more alive and defiant. Hikaru had a feeling that if he touched this butterflies wings they would not crumble, but feel like a silken warmth.
So Hikaru reached out and touched it once day. Over the passage of time, rattling the stones on the board. "Akira." Hikaru whispered, with hope that the beat of those wings would come alive in his clasping hands. The butterfly, named Akira, fluttered his eyes open and struck with shock and something else raised his eyes to Hikaru. Akira didn't speak, unsure of why the boy touched him. Unsure of what he felt by it.
"Do we have to play right now?" Hikaru quietly said, his eyes steady on Akira's and his hands gently stroking the flesh of where his chin met his ears. "It's sunny out, I want to sit in your garden."
Akira nodded as to agree, and Hikaru released his hands and slid open the screen door separating the room from the traditional Japanese garden. "Sit down on the bench with me." This wasn't as much a question as a command leaving no room for reply or denial and so Akira followed, his steps crunching the ground behind Hikaru.
When they sat, the small bench making their hips touch. Hikaru gently took the other boy's hand and used his thumb to stroke the boy's wrist, searching for Akira's pulse. "You're more alive in the garden. I like you like this." Hikaru felt Akira's pulse jump as he spoke.
Akira's head tilted slightly to Hikaru, "Do you..." Akira slowly spoke, pausing and biting his lip.
Hikaru raised up his other hand to push back a strand of Akira's hair that was swaying in the breeze. Akira allowed his head to be raised up. "Yes." Hikaru said once Akira's eyes met his. "Don't look away from me." Hikaru said steadily. In Akira's eyes, Hikaru saw the brilliant monarch escape its pins and allow itself to control its own brilliance. Almost like a second cocoon was opened.
Hikaru tilted his head and softly brushed his lips against the raven-haired boy's. "You look your best when you're facing me." Hikaru murmured onto Akira's lips. Akira nodded, touching his forehand to Hikaru. After brushing his own lips against Hikaru's he let his head rest upon Hikaru's shoulder. The sun allowing them both to finally flourish.
Author: shichou
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Type: shonen-ai
Pairing: Hikaru x Akira
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Notes: An odd drabble. I'm not a big fan of the ending, but the story kept sticking in my mind so I wrote it.
- MAYU -
There was an attic in Hikaru's house just like his grandfather's. Full of disregarded pieces and memorabilia. Hikaru sometimes went up to the dirty attic for peace and to connect with Sai, as if he haunted every attic. But, time had passed and Hikaru knew Sai wasn't going to pop up like someone opened a geanie lamp behind him. He stopped going to attic for Sai, but he didn't stop going. There wasn't a go board to draw him, and his old toys weren't a exciting anymore. It was something hidden.
Along the wall of old furniture and a chest holding his parents wedding attire, there were a stack of photos and other wall hangings. The things you either get as a gift or when you move into a house find no longer fitting. Stacked inside all of these was an old wooden thick picture frame with burled edges. Something a novice wood carver would make as his first project. Almost like the love and curiosity of the unskilled hands made up for the inexperience and poor quality of the wood. Just one step higher from a kid's kindergarten project.
Hikaru grabbed the knobby frame and often dusted it off with the edge of his shirt. Since no matter how frequent his trips came up there the frame seemed eternally in need of dusting. Under the glass of the frame held a monarch butterfly. Pinned to the faded felt back with pearl tipped pins with it's wings outstretched. At the bottom someone had placed a bent note-card with scrawled calligraphy "Danaus plexippus".
Overtime like the case, the butterfly had faded. One antennae hanging precariously bent, and one wing tattered at its edges. The butterfly seemed to revel in this. Stretching its wings out more, like the brilliance of it's autumn orange and brown made up for its tattered afterlife. It was almost proud of its own demise.
Hikaru had become more and more introspective since Sai had left. It was to be expected when your best friend disappeared and you were left in a world of adults and complexity. The people he could call his friends were enemies against the board and his win/loss record was so perillious as to bring him acclaim or criticism with each move he made. He was more alone than he had ever been, void.
So his way of dealing with the pressure was to think of his faded butterfly. Time lapse in his mind staring at the framed butterfly. As the wings shredded and fell to the bottom of the frame. All that would be left would be the pins, the note card and flecks at the bottom of the felt. When he pictured the sequence, time washed over him as well and his play upon the Go board was just his way of marking that passage of time.
In his daze Hikaru looked up from his board and saw his reflection. It wasn't really him, like all reflections. It was distorted and changed and almost its own entity, and Hikaru was as entranced by it as he had been with the butterfly. It was like looking at his own face and being amazed by it, something you have always but never really see. But it wasn't his face... it was something far more different and pure. The face staring back at him was comforting. Whether it held anger, respect or solace Hikaru didn't know. It was just there.
Hikaru decided he wanted to change that reflection one day. The opposite of him. To shake the water that held that reflection just to watch the ripples change and distort his face. Through the sound of stones on the go board he touched it. Like the pattern of the stones made a diagram to how Hikaru desired to caress and enjoy its brilliance. It was like the butterfly, hurt and pinned for all to see, but so different. So much more alive and defiant. Hikaru had a feeling that if he touched this butterflies wings they would not crumble, but feel like a silken warmth.
So Hikaru reached out and touched it once day. Over the passage of time, rattling the stones on the board. "Akira." Hikaru whispered, with hope that the beat of those wings would come alive in his clasping hands. The butterfly, named Akira, fluttered his eyes open and struck with shock and something else raised his eyes to Hikaru. Akira didn't speak, unsure of why the boy touched him. Unsure of what he felt by it.
"Do we have to play right now?" Hikaru quietly said, his eyes steady on Akira's and his hands gently stroking the flesh of where his chin met his ears. "It's sunny out, I want to sit in your garden."
Akira nodded as to agree, and Hikaru released his hands and slid open the screen door separating the room from the traditional Japanese garden. "Sit down on the bench with me." This wasn't as much a question as a command leaving no room for reply or denial and so Akira followed, his steps crunching the ground behind Hikaru.
When they sat, the small bench making their hips touch. Hikaru gently took the other boy's hand and used his thumb to stroke the boy's wrist, searching for Akira's pulse. "You're more alive in the garden. I like you like this." Hikaru felt Akira's pulse jump as he spoke.
Akira's head tilted slightly to Hikaru, "Do you..." Akira slowly spoke, pausing and biting his lip.
Hikaru raised up his other hand to push back a strand of Akira's hair that was swaying in the breeze. Akira allowed his head to be raised up. "Yes." Hikaru said once Akira's eyes met his. "Don't look away from me." Hikaru said steadily. In Akira's eyes, Hikaru saw the brilliant monarch escape its pins and allow itself to control its own brilliance. Almost like a second cocoon was opened.
Hikaru tilted his head and softly brushed his lips against the raven-haired boy's. "You look your best when you're facing me." Hikaru murmured onto Akira's lips. Akira nodded, touching his forehand to Hikaru. After brushing his own lips against Hikaru's he let his head rest upon Hikaru's shoulder. The sun allowing them both to finally flourish.