It was overcast that day, faint rumblings coming from the clouds above as though an irate god was expressing his displeasure concerning the world below. It was slightly drizzling, but not enough to do anything but leave your hair slightly damp.
The door to the Go parlor opened, and Shindou Hikaru deposited his umbrella into the holder before running a hand though his hair, bringing it out of his eyes as he scoured the place for a familiar face. His grey eyes took on an unconsciously cheerful hue as he found his target, steps quickening and wet shoes lightly squeaking against the tile floor as he gave a cursory hello to those that greeted him--he had never been the politest of boys.
"Hey, sorry I'm late. Mom made me dig around for my umbrella before I went out." His expressive face mirrored a typical boyish disgust for a mother's concern. He flopped into his seat with an audible whump.
Something akin to amusement ghosted across Touya Akira's face for the barest of moments before his mask was firmly back in its customary place.
"Don't worry, I haven't been waiting for all that long." His tone was strictly business. "Shall we begin?" He cleared the board methodically, in quick motions that bespoke of much practice. The faint clicking sound of others going about their games filled the air, with a softly spoken undercurrent of "makemashita" every once in a while.
"Onegaishimasu."
"Onegaishimasu."
***
Had it really already been three years? In so many ways, it seemed longer, and yet, at the same time Akira could almost swear it had been yesterday the impetuous boy had come all but crashing into the Go parlor. He hadn't even known how to hold the Go stones.
Now, Akira was willing to bet those hands were calloused, his fingernails worn smooth from constant handling. Those rainy eyes now burned with focus, the stormy color deepening whenever he was lost pondering a pattern or good hand.
The sharp clatter of stone against wood was louder now that they had finally hit their stride, with the only pauses being when they stopped to consider the last move. Sometimes people wandered by as they played, stopping to watch the two pros with distant appreciative murmurs. One was never entirely able to block out the crowd, but they would fade into the background as your focus remained on what lay ahead in the game.
Akira stopped, his sense of rhythm thrown off by an unexpected hand Hikaru had just played. He was inclined to dismiss it, but he knew that Hikaru was good at reading far ahead into the pattern, and that a move that could first appear to be a mistake could easily give him an advantage later on.
Akira glanced up at his opponent's face. Shindou's eyes were dancing, like raindrops against a window pane during a summer storm, and Akira had to stop himself from returning the expression with a faint smile; no one could ever accuse Shindou of being unreadable. Still, now was not the time to lose his focus. Playing Shindou was unlike playing anyone else. Only his father could make him exert himself so frantically. It filled him with a sense of contentment; even when they were fighting and yelling, he was well aware that his best Go was always played against the shorter boy. It was something that he would never give up willingly.
Ichikawa-san soon came around with some tea for the two of them, moving deftly and silently. Most likely she was hedging her bets and trying to do all in her power to avoid an argument like last week's, when Hikaru had stalked out--yet again--loudly declaring to the whole salon that he would never be back. He had held to his promise for all of two days before they were back in their customary corner, playing as though nothing had happened. She still didn't know if one of them ever actually apologized, or if they simply shared a miraculous psychic link that allowed them to know when the other had cooled off.
Hikaru looked over the board one more time, ascertaining that there were really no more moves he could make, before saying it. It came out as a sigh, like a faint midnight wind through the trees. "Makemashita."
Inwardly, Akira steeled himself. The hardest part was just beginning.
***
"This was your first mistake." Akira winced slightly. Now what had possessed him to use that sort of phrase? He knew that Shindou was not one of those open to lectures, as could be ascertained merely by watching the other boy tense, his lips forming into a hard, self-controlled line. This was how they always started, those terse fights that left both of them angry and stewing in their own juices for days to come.
"Well, what about you? Right here." Hikaru's finger was unforgiving as he pointed out the weakness in Akira's structure that had allowed him to take control of that corner of the board.
Akira bit down the urge to defend himself to his rival. If this was going to erupt into an argument, he wasn't going to be the first one to start yelling.
What was it about Shindou that made it so hard to take criticism from him? Was it because they were the same age? Was it because they were both pros in their own right?
Or...was it because he respected the other boy? In some twisted way all three reasons made sense. Instead of smiling and nodding like he did when other pros pointed out his mistakes--when he made them--with Shindou he was free to...to what? To erupt and throw a tantrum like a five year old that didn't like being told no and watch as a pro his own age mirrored every kick and yell word for word? Some Go pros they were...
Free to express his feelings.
Free to let the anger boil over like an overheated pot on the stove, with no repercussions. Shindou would get angry right back. Yet, Shindou would always come back and play with him. Shindou knew what it was like.
Perhaps such actions were not acceptable for professional Go players, but they were understandable when you realized that all they really were, were two fifteen year old boys blowing off steam.
The thought struck Akira as amusing, and to his infinite surprise, he found himself chuckling. Touya Akira did not belly laugh, but even Touya Akira had a sense of humor. Even more shocking was Hikaru joining in a few moments later, raucously laughing enough for both of them. Heads turned in their direction before a sort of universal sigh of relief--at least they weren't arguing this time.
Shindou understood. He always did.
"Another game?"
***
"I didn't know how late it was getting!" Hikaru exclaimed, looking at the clock near the front entryway with some surprise. "I promised mom I'd be home for dinner...she's probably calling the cops right now. I really gotta go."
"Actually, I should be getting home as well." Akira admitted as they both began to clean up from their last game. He glanced out the window; the drizzle had long since turned into a full-blown thunderstorm, and raindrops were still pattering against the outside window, making rivers in miniature as they slid down the glass. After Hikaru stood up and stretched the kinks from his frame with a loud yawn, Akira quietly followed him to the front of the salon. Ichikawa-san gave them both a cheerful good-bye, and Hikaru smiled at her widely in reply. Even Akira had found his usual sweet smile, and she found herself shaking her head as she watched the two of them leave together, dull footsteps echoing down the stairs.
It was amazing to watch those two. During the matches, their mouths were always set in thin, hard lines, and even if their eyes were dancing, there was still that calculating edge to their gaze. Then afterwards it was like they shed their skin and became boys once again. Shindou-kun would laugh and grin as he usually did, a loud noise that some of the older patrons had complained about--privately Ichikawa-san didn't mind the sound--and the harshness would fade from Akira's gaze.
"Those two really are good friends, aren't they?" She murmured to herself with a small chuckle.
***
"What?! You don't have an umbrella?!" Hikaru sighed at his rival's lack of judgement--obviously forgetting that he had been all too willing to go out the door without one himself. "Didn't you see that it was raining outside when you came?" He opened his own with a sudden snap. Akira didn't miss something akin to regret flash across his friend's face, almost as though he was waiting for a voice Akira couldn't hear. The moment passed, and Hikaru hefted the umbrella over his head easily.
"When I left, it was clear outside." Akira explained, choosing to ignore his rival's less-than-restrained words.
"But it's been raining since about 13:00!" Hikaru insisted. "You mean you were here the whole time?"
Akira shrugged. He didn't find anything amiss in spending most of his day at the Go parlor. Still, he wasn't exactly enjoying the thought of walking to the subway in the pelting rain, he had to admit. Just as he was about to turn back inside to ask Ichikawa-san if he could possibly catch a ride home with her once she was off for the evening, Hikaru made an irritated noise in the back of his throat.
"Geez, Touya, what are you waiting for?! You think I'm standing out here for my health or something? I wanna get home!"
With a start, Akira realized that Hikaru was standing off to one side of the umbrella, obvious waiting for Akira to join him underneath it. Still he hesitated for the barest of seconds before walking down the steps firmly.
"Don't you have anything better to do, Touya? Go is wonderful and all, but even I can't do it all day." Hikaru spoke through the drumming of the rain on the waterproof fabric above. Perhaps once, Akira would have bristled at the implied insult in his friendly rival's words, but by now he was used to the way Hikaru spoke before thinking. It wasn't as though he meant anything by it.
"Like what?" Akira asked, genuinely curious.
This threw Hikaru for a moment. "Well, I don't know. Like go out with friends, or watch TV. Read manga, maybe?"
Akira didn't answer that most of his friends were adults, and therefore had other responsibilities that kept them from spending all their time with a fifteen year-old boy. Not to mention, he found TV dull. As for manga...well, he would prefer to read Weekly Go as opposed to comic books. Perhaps that made him boring, but Akira had never really cared what others thought of him. He was happy the way he was. But, Hikaru was continuing.
"...in JUMP, there's a series you might like. It's called...uhh, what was its name again? Hiroshi no Go. It's about a kid our age trying to become a top Go player. Of course, he has a rival and everything. Y'know how those series are...I think you'd enjoy it."
"Maybe." Akira said cautiously. Actually, he didn't know how "those series" were; he honestly didn't even think he'd ever read a manga magazine all the way through, if at all. He also doubted that reading a comic series about Go was as satisfying as playing the real thing.
Hikaru soon lapsed into silence, realizing perhaps that manga didn't engage his friend like it did him. The umbrella was really a bit too small for two people, and Hikaru could feel the outside sleeve of his shirt become waterlogged whenever they sometimes accidentally bumped into one another. He stifled the urge to demand that Touya walk at his pace, and instead poured his concentration into trying not to wish he had brought his coat as well.
"Na, Touya." Akira looked across at the other boy. His eyes were dark with memories of something Akira couldn't see. The words had been so soft that he wondered if he had even heard them at all. Then, louder. "Ever wonder why, if they could send a man to the moon, that umbrellas have stayed the same?"
Akira blinked once or twice before smiling. Like the rising moon peeking out from behind clouds.
"Can't say that I have." He admitted.
"Man, you really are boring." Hikaru teased. "And
if you don't hurry up, then I'm just going to leave you behind. Why
do you have to walk so slow, anyway?"
Laughter like the patter of raindrops filled the air.
owari