A/N: I am only doing the translation job here. Check out more information on my web site.
I'll speed up the posting after I finish my finals at the end of April. I'll be happy to receive any comments. Just e-mail me at rayerwang@hotmail.com
Hikaru no Go belongs to Hotta San and Obata San
It had been a year. A whole year of living together, being familiar with and getting used to each other's pace. A whole year full of mirth and warmth.
He was quite picky about food besides his untidiness of throwing his clothes all over the place, besides his forgetfulness of drenching himself without an umbrella, besides many other disapproving habits. During the time spent together, all of these were naturally and gradually accepted.
Although I didn't move out for long, Mother would stop by and take a look from time to time. In order to avoid unnecessary puzzles as well as inquiries, I had chosen an apartment of two bedrooms. He was rather muddle-headed toward this kind of matter, nor had he ever taken into consideration of my mother's attitude-Maybe it was a good thing, but I was a little upset.
Game matches were increasing recently and he woke up usually in dawn. On the contrary, I was the one who stayed in bed.
Chapter One
The harsh morning light peeked onto Akira's sleeping face. Feeling drained, he turned his body and slowly opened his eyes.
"Hikaru." Akira fumbled the other side of the bed out of reflex. Upon touching the impersonal coldness, he then realized that he had slept in the other room-It happened frequently, for he didn't want to disturb Hikaru.
Sitting up in the bed, his slender fingers swept across his smooth raven hair. His head was heavy as if he had caught a cold. Other than drowsiness everything else was fine. Probably he hadn't slept well last night. Akira stared at the bed in trance. In order not to raise Mother's suspicion, both rooms were equipped with a queen-sized bed. But right now, it seemed rather uncomfortable for him to sleep alone.
He quickly washed his face in cold water for refreshment. Averting his sight, he saw everything except the comb had been ditched over the counter. There was no trace of the toothpaste, and the toothbrush was in the basin. Blinking his eyes, Akira revealed a smile. He turned on the bathtub handle, and winced at the pouring cold water. Rushing to the water heater, he saw the pointer was placed at the cold water slot. Akira sighed. He had told Hikaru numerous times not to shift the water heater. Did he forget again? How did he take the shower?
Right after he cleared the bathroom, the phone rang loudly. Rubbing his cold hand and walking to the living room, he found out that it was actually the other phone in his bedroom. Hastily running into the room and picking it up, he asked: "Hello, who's calling?"
"It's me, Akira-Kun." Akiko's voice sounded very gentle over the line, full of nurturing care. Akira sat down at the bedside, grinning heartily.
"Would you come home for dinner today since it's weekend? I've checked Go Weekly. You don't have any game today, do you?"
"Um, no. But I still have some work to do. Can I come back later tonight?"
Of course there was no problem with Akiko. Though Akira had moved out for a while, he was just like living at home. Akiko would phone several times a week. After all it was about two boys living together, hard to tell who was taking care of whom. But Akiko trusted in her own son. He was capable of doing the daily basics, such as cooking, washing and cleaning. Maybe the job done wasn't quite perfect, but for sure was handy enough for living independently.
Akira took out his coat immediately after he hung up the phone. It was late autumn. The newly- bought clothes were worth a try. Neatly wrapped in a scarf, he opened the door, planning to have some breakfast outside and visit the go salon on the way. Turning his head around, he was satisfied with his effort of cleaning. Talking about cleaning, he was the one who mopped around recently. The other one had buried his head in piles of kifu, never thinking of helping. Pulling up the collars of the coat, he closed the door.
Sometimes he wondered if he indulged Hikaru too much, or he didn't care at all. When he lived at home, Mother would take care of everything and he was the blind one. But now, he was bothered by these endless tasks. First of all, shirts had to be ironed and coats had to be hung. Even though he could do the laundry outside, he preferred to perform the ritual by himself. During those busy days, the clothes were forgotten at the laundry store and eventually disappeared without a trace. Actually both of them should have shared the housework. He didn't know whether the current situation was caused by his neglect or his change of attitude-taking all the work by himself.
He disliked the idea of having ramen as breakfast, nor was he used to western food. Akira bought a bun in a grocery store, walking toward the go salon while eating the breakfast. To avoid Ichikawa San and Kitajima San's drop-by, he had chosen Nakano to live in, a location further away from the go salon. Sometimes he felt troublesome, but got used to it after awhile. Perhaps life was like that. As long as you got used to something, you wouldn't feel awkward any more, but rather ordinary, lack of interest. That was why he had developed the habit of walking to the bus stop.
People do change over time, really.
The trees on the sidewalk had almost lost all of their leaves. Only a couple were still dangling in the cool air. Various stores seldom had any customers, presenting themselves as flashes of old photographs from a distant memory. Among the floating coats, the swaying briefcases, everyone was in a hurry, humming the haste rhythm of life.
Supporting his forehead, he still felt dizzy. Tons of interviews, photographing, and TV tutorials came as overwhelming waves after Hokuto Cup. He was so pressed by the schedule that he was not able to go home for dinner. Mother's complaints occurred never less, stirring his inner turmoil. But with Hikaru by his side, he could calm down and concentrate easily. As the distance between the two was closing gradually, he didn't want to stay at home.
They had been together for a year-never thought himself to be so careless, losing track of time. Akira lifted up his face, flashing a faint smile. Maybe time had passed too swiftly to be noticed, maybe it was he who wished time to be prolonged, purposely avoiding counting.
Stepping onto the familiar path, relaxation and joy lightened up his mood, but the headache was still there. While maintaining a polite smile, he weakly pulled open the sliding door. Instantly he was greeted by Ichikawa San's crispy laughter and bright eyes. She vocalized as usual: "Akira-Kun!"
"Ichikawa San, Akira Sensei was already a Go-Dan! You should call him SENSEI!" Kitajima San rumbled. Ichikawa frowned, squinting her eyes: "If Akira-Kun doesn't care, why should you worry about it?"
"Haha." Chuckling, Akira took off his coat and handed it over to Ichikawa. He was not prepared when she placed her hand on his forehead in concern.
"Akira-Kun, you don't look well. Are you sick?"
"I am fine. Probably I didn't sleep well last night."
Staring at him attentively, she said: "You should eat well and rest well even if you live outside. How can a Kishi win his game without plenty enough genki?"
Akira nodded obediently. Kitajima suddenly rushed to the counter, making Ichikawa gape at him. "Kitajima San, you look really gloomy!"
"Oi, I say Ichikawa San!" Kitajima thought for a moment, "You should go for a boyfriend."
"Ya!" Ichikawa flushed, "Mind your own business!" She vulnerably turned to face Akira, revealing a hurt expression. Akira paused a bit, not knowing what to say. He didn't understand why everyone had made such a fuss about Ichikawa San's personal issue. Such scene happened a lot recently. Somehow it started to affect Akira, making him think that he should also take some responsibilities. The idea was ridiculous, so he ignored it for most of the time. How should he respond to such an embarrassing moment as the issue surfaced again?
"Akira-Kun, do you have a girlfriend?" Ichikawa San's question accelerated his heartbeat. Instantaneously his gaze was fixed, followed by a rising crimson tone on his handsome face. Indeed, he did not have a girlfriend, but rather had a boyfriend, or even a so-called lover. But this piece of information was not for public announcement.
"Since Akira-Kun doesn't have a girlfriend, why must I look for a boyfriend?" Ichikawa focused her sight on Akira. There was hope in her palpable gaze. Silently guarding beside her prince charming, only she could distinguish a sense of felicity from anxiety, could taste the endless dejection.
"It was not the same." Akira hovered over the counter, one elbow supporting his chin. "Ichikawa San really should find a boyfriend."
Kitajima San burst into laughter while Ichikawa's eye circles reddened under anger. Everyone else was also in great amusement. Akira didn't notice though, there was some somberness in the lightened mood. Kitajima San's grin was even tinted with a sigh. They all detected that Akira had never figured out Ichikawa's intention. The forgiveness and understanding from Ichikawa, the fondness from every go salon member- perhaps Akira had hardly paid attention to them. If only their Akira could care just a bit about Ichikawa, about others.
Brushing it away as a joke, Akira walked toward his personal seat. Upon touching the familiar go-ke and the 19X19 go-ban, all he could remember was the kifu studying and argument every night, the soft fusion of lovemaking in that isolated nest. His eyes could never lie-there was tenderness, a true happiness residing in the peaceful aqua marine sea.
Ichikawa was able to read his eyes, to understand his mood, but she could never guess that her Akira had grown up and matured, had reached a level she didn't even know.
No marriage license, no such calling as husband and wife, all he possessed were a small room, a pair of murky green eyes gazing at future just like his own, as well as the same enthusiastic limbs and body surrounding and being surrounded in dream.
If he was counted as an independent individual after he left home, then he could only be counted as a firm believer in the truth of loving and being loved from now on.
I'll speed up the posting after I finish my finals at the end of April. I'll be happy to receive any comments. Just e-mail me at rayerwang@hotmail.com
Hikaru no Go belongs to Hotta San and Obata San
It had been a year. A whole year of living together, being familiar with and getting used to each other's pace. A whole year full of mirth and warmth.
He was quite picky about food besides his untidiness of throwing his clothes all over the place, besides his forgetfulness of drenching himself without an umbrella, besides many other disapproving habits. During the time spent together, all of these were naturally and gradually accepted.
Although I didn't move out for long, Mother would stop by and take a look from time to time. In order to avoid unnecessary puzzles as well as inquiries, I had chosen an apartment of two bedrooms. He was rather muddle-headed toward this kind of matter, nor had he ever taken into consideration of my mother's attitude-Maybe it was a good thing, but I was a little upset.
Game matches were increasing recently and he woke up usually in dawn. On the contrary, I was the one who stayed in bed.
Chapter One
The harsh morning light peeked onto Akira's sleeping face. Feeling drained, he turned his body and slowly opened his eyes.
"Hikaru." Akira fumbled the other side of the bed out of reflex. Upon touching the impersonal coldness, he then realized that he had slept in the other room-It happened frequently, for he didn't want to disturb Hikaru.
Sitting up in the bed, his slender fingers swept across his smooth raven hair. His head was heavy as if he had caught a cold. Other than drowsiness everything else was fine. Probably he hadn't slept well last night. Akira stared at the bed in trance. In order not to raise Mother's suspicion, both rooms were equipped with a queen-sized bed. But right now, it seemed rather uncomfortable for him to sleep alone.
He quickly washed his face in cold water for refreshment. Averting his sight, he saw everything except the comb had been ditched over the counter. There was no trace of the toothpaste, and the toothbrush was in the basin. Blinking his eyes, Akira revealed a smile. He turned on the bathtub handle, and winced at the pouring cold water. Rushing to the water heater, he saw the pointer was placed at the cold water slot. Akira sighed. He had told Hikaru numerous times not to shift the water heater. Did he forget again? How did he take the shower?
Right after he cleared the bathroom, the phone rang loudly. Rubbing his cold hand and walking to the living room, he found out that it was actually the other phone in his bedroom. Hastily running into the room and picking it up, he asked: "Hello, who's calling?"
"It's me, Akira-Kun." Akiko's voice sounded very gentle over the line, full of nurturing care. Akira sat down at the bedside, grinning heartily.
"Would you come home for dinner today since it's weekend? I've checked Go Weekly. You don't have any game today, do you?"
"Um, no. But I still have some work to do. Can I come back later tonight?"
Of course there was no problem with Akiko. Though Akira had moved out for a while, he was just like living at home. Akiko would phone several times a week. After all it was about two boys living together, hard to tell who was taking care of whom. But Akiko trusted in her own son. He was capable of doing the daily basics, such as cooking, washing and cleaning. Maybe the job done wasn't quite perfect, but for sure was handy enough for living independently.
Akira took out his coat immediately after he hung up the phone. It was late autumn. The newly- bought clothes were worth a try. Neatly wrapped in a scarf, he opened the door, planning to have some breakfast outside and visit the go salon on the way. Turning his head around, he was satisfied with his effort of cleaning. Talking about cleaning, he was the one who mopped around recently. The other one had buried his head in piles of kifu, never thinking of helping. Pulling up the collars of the coat, he closed the door.
Sometimes he wondered if he indulged Hikaru too much, or he didn't care at all. When he lived at home, Mother would take care of everything and he was the blind one. But now, he was bothered by these endless tasks. First of all, shirts had to be ironed and coats had to be hung. Even though he could do the laundry outside, he preferred to perform the ritual by himself. During those busy days, the clothes were forgotten at the laundry store and eventually disappeared without a trace. Actually both of them should have shared the housework. He didn't know whether the current situation was caused by his neglect or his change of attitude-taking all the work by himself.
He disliked the idea of having ramen as breakfast, nor was he used to western food. Akira bought a bun in a grocery store, walking toward the go salon while eating the breakfast. To avoid Ichikawa San and Kitajima San's drop-by, he had chosen Nakano to live in, a location further away from the go salon. Sometimes he felt troublesome, but got used to it after awhile. Perhaps life was like that. As long as you got used to something, you wouldn't feel awkward any more, but rather ordinary, lack of interest. That was why he had developed the habit of walking to the bus stop.
People do change over time, really.
The trees on the sidewalk had almost lost all of their leaves. Only a couple were still dangling in the cool air. Various stores seldom had any customers, presenting themselves as flashes of old photographs from a distant memory. Among the floating coats, the swaying briefcases, everyone was in a hurry, humming the haste rhythm of life.
Supporting his forehead, he still felt dizzy. Tons of interviews, photographing, and TV tutorials came as overwhelming waves after Hokuto Cup. He was so pressed by the schedule that he was not able to go home for dinner. Mother's complaints occurred never less, stirring his inner turmoil. But with Hikaru by his side, he could calm down and concentrate easily. As the distance between the two was closing gradually, he didn't want to stay at home.
They had been together for a year-never thought himself to be so careless, losing track of time. Akira lifted up his face, flashing a faint smile. Maybe time had passed too swiftly to be noticed, maybe it was he who wished time to be prolonged, purposely avoiding counting.
Stepping onto the familiar path, relaxation and joy lightened up his mood, but the headache was still there. While maintaining a polite smile, he weakly pulled open the sliding door. Instantly he was greeted by Ichikawa San's crispy laughter and bright eyes. She vocalized as usual: "Akira-Kun!"
"Ichikawa San, Akira Sensei was already a Go-Dan! You should call him SENSEI!" Kitajima San rumbled. Ichikawa frowned, squinting her eyes: "If Akira-Kun doesn't care, why should you worry about it?"
"Haha." Chuckling, Akira took off his coat and handed it over to Ichikawa. He was not prepared when she placed her hand on his forehead in concern.
"Akira-Kun, you don't look well. Are you sick?"
"I am fine. Probably I didn't sleep well last night."
Staring at him attentively, she said: "You should eat well and rest well even if you live outside. How can a Kishi win his game without plenty enough genki?"
Akira nodded obediently. Kitajima suddenly rushed to the counter, making Ichikawa gape at him. "Kitajima San, you look really gloomy!"
"Oi, I say Ichikawa San!" Kitajima thought for a moment, "You should go for a boyfriend."
"Ya!" Ichikawa flushed, "Mind your own business!" She vulnerably turned to face Akira, revealing a hurt expression. Akira paused a bit, not knowing what to say. He didn't understand why everyone had made such a fuss about Ichikawa San's personal issue. Such scene happened a lot recently. Somehow it started to affect Akira, making him think that he should also take some responsibilities. The idea was ridiculous, so he ignored it for most of the time. How should he respond to such an embarrassing moment as the issue surfaced again?
"Akira-Kun, do you have a girlfriend?" Ichikawa San's question accelerated his heartbeat. Instantaneously his gaze was fixed, followed by a rising crimson tone on his handsome face. Indeed, he did not have a girlfriend, but rather had a boyfriend, or even a so-called lover. But this piece of information was not for public announcement.
"Since Akira-Kun doesn't have a girlfriend, why must I look for a boyfriend?" Ichikawa focused her sight on Akira. There was hope in her palpable gaze. Silently guarding beside her prince charming, only she could distinguish a sense of felicity from anxiety, could taste the endless dejection.
"It was not the same." Akira hovered over the counter, one elbow supporting his chin. "Ichikawa San really should find a boyfriend."
Kitajima San burst into laughter while Ichikawa's eye circles reddened under anger. Everyone else was also in great amusement. Akira didn't notice though, there was some somberness in the lightened mood. Kitajima San's grin was even tinted with a sigh. They all detected that Akira had never figured out Ichikawa's intention. The forgiveness and understanding from Ichikawa, the fondness from every go salon member- perhaps Akira had hardly paid attention to them. If only their Akira could care just a bit about Ichikawa, about others.
Brushing it away as a joke, Akira walked toward his personal seat. Upon touching the familiar go-ke and the 19X19 go-ban, all he could remember was the kifu studying and argument every night, the soft fusion of lovemaking in that isolated nest. His eyes could never lie-there was tenderness, a true happiness residing in the peaceful aqua marine sea.
Ichikawa was able to read his eyes, to understand his mood, but she could never guess that her Akira had grown up and matured, had reached a level she didn't even know.
No marriage license, no such calling as husband and wife, all he possessed were a small room, a pair of murky green eyes gazing at future just like his own, as well as the same enthusiastic limbs and body surrounding and being surrounded in dream.
If he was counted as an independent individual after he left home, then he could only be counted as a firm believer in the truth of loving and being loved from now on.