Shindou was biting his lip, but that could mean anything from impatience to anger. Akira had never really been good at picking up visual mood cues from his rival, especially after having grown up around adults that were generally more even-keeled than the person sitting across the goban from him. Placing a stone in response to Shindou's latest move, Akira eyed the board critically. Reading his Go was usually much more straightforward and easy to understand.
Considering each move, Akira could tell something was bothering Shindou, and it was making him curious as each second ticked by. Obviously it wasn't something Shindou wanted to talk about, otherwise they would be yelling at each other by now. They had been playing for over an hour, and there had been minimal conversation, let alone as explosive as it had the tendency of ending up being. The silence was much more intriguing than any yelling would have been.
Glancing at Shindou once more, Akira found his attention drawn to the sight of his rival worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. He would catch the briefest flash of white before the plump flesh was released, redder and a bit more swollen than usual, before the process started again, giving Akira tantalizing images of his own teeth doing the same to Shindou's lip just to see how appealingly swollen he could make them.
Akira cleared his throat softly, trying to be surreptitious as he dropped his glance back to the board. If he took too long to make his move Shindou would begin to wonder why he was taking so long, and Akira didn't think he would know how exactly to explain that he was wondering what Shindou's lips tasted like. He made a move, one that was neither offensive nor defensive, just to see where his rival would take the game, and dropped his hands to his lap as he pretended to study the board again while pointedly not staring at his rival or his rival's stupid lips.
It wasn't as though this was the first time Akira had had such thoughts. He had grown used to having to hide behind a frown and a critical word about Shindou's play in order to cover his own embarrassment, but after so many years of the same song and dance, he was starting to want to get caught at it, just to find out if Shindou felt the same. Just to have it out in the open. Just to take the weight off his shoulders. At the same time, though, he was terrified of the change such knowledge would bring. Everything would be different after Shindou found out what Akira thought about. Their dynamic, their rivalry, their friendship. He valued it too much to throw it away on what very well could have been a crush based on the intensity of their passion for each other's Go.
It was hard, though.
Akira had been staring into the middle distance for several seconds before he startled back into awareness by a soft clearing of Shindou's throat. He blinked several times, chancing a glance at Shindou before dipping his hand into the bowl of smooth stones, trying to ignore the strange look his rival was shooting at him.
Several hands later Shindou resigned, though Akira wasn't sure if he could have kept up his lead with the wishy-washy way he had been playing throughout midgame because of the way Shindou kept chewing at his lip.
"Thank you for the game," Akira murmured with a bow, then began to gather his own stones as Shindou sorted his.
"I've got some free time tonight," Shindou blurted suddenly, causing several of the customers of the salon to turn around curiously to see what was going on.
"I'm sorry?" Akira asked, confused. His confusion only grew when he saw Shindou's cheeks color.
"I meant, if you aren't doing anything tonight maybe I could go over to your house. We could get some food and play again if you're in the mood. If not, then that's fine too..." he trailed off. Akira covered his goke and placed it on the board in order to cover some of his confusion.
"No, I'm not doing anything tonight. If you want to come over, I wouldn't mind," he answered quietly, getting a secret thrill from the way Shindou's face lit up at the positive answer. Even if it was just because of the promise of another game, Akira could pretend it was because of his company as well.
The two of them gathered their belongings and left the Go salon together, looking to the world like good friends rather than professional rivals, and Akira couldn't help a tiny half-smile at the thought. He didn't usually care what strangers thought of him, but the idea that people casually observing them at that moment would naturally think they were friends gave him a deep sort of happiness that he couldn't describe.
Some days he thought himself a little pathetic for thinking such things. But he forgave himself since people with crushes generally acted irrationally.
The silence stretched on as the two of them made their way to the train station, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Akira turned his face to the sky to catch the last rays of the rapidly-setting sun, sighing softly. Shindou was walking beside him, so close that their hands brushed occasionally, and even the accidental contact made Akira's heart skip a beat.
I have it pretty bad, he thought wryly with a breathy laugh that caught Shindou's eye.
"Sorry, I just thought of something funny," he said in response to the unasked question. Shindou shrugged, then seemed to glance around a bit before their strides settled into sync once more.
They were a few minutes away from the station when Akira felt warm fingers encircle his own hand, causing him to almost trip over his own feet in his surprise. He stared down at their hands, hands Shindou had voluntarily linked together. The person in question was staring straight ahead as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but Akira could make out a light blush staining Shindou's own cheeks.
It occurred to Akira suddenly that perhaps Shindou had been reading his Go as deeply as he had been reading Shindou's. And their Go said everything that needed saying.