The Fire: The Hands
When finally he awoke again, he thought it must be that someone was shining a light directly in his eye - maybe he was at the eye doctor and had fallen asleep - but strange, he couldn't think of anything but fire and sparks and ash, all dancing before his eyes like some hellish pagan ritual. And the light, it stung like a million needles straight into his eyes, like they were all trying to tear his eye apart and look inside. It was like he was dead: there was just light, stretching out in eternity before him, and he couldn't feel anything, not his hands or his head. He wondered how he could think - even more than that, he wondered if all the religions in the world were wrong and when you died you simply became part of light particles forever - and he wondered why it was taking so long for an angel or a demon to come get him and send him to Heaven or Hell or whatever. And finally the pain became so sharp, especially near his heart, and he had to close his eyes again.
It was like a well, he supposed. He promised himself that he'd only rest for a little bit, but when he opened his eyes again, it was already evening. Somehow he connected that when he'd last opened his eyes, there'd been light, angry and red, shooting sparks up in front of him, and the third floor awash with gasoline that he had to cross, and he remembered Touya in his arms, so heavy and he was so fatigued. He wondered why he did that - it wasn't that he bore Touya any ill will, but rather, he wasn't sure where he'd gotten the notion that if he died, he'd be a martyr in the history of Go forever or something. Japanese were always like that, he guessed, even though it was being stereotypical of him to say such - they were always self-giving, and even though they expected something in return, what they expected and what they SAID they expected were two completely different amounts of favors.
In that aspect, then, he was probably more like a calloused American. Of course, the definition "calloused American" was probably being biased as well, but for the moment, he didn't quite care. He half-regretted he was alive - he couldn't play Go forever in Heaven, then.
The room was small and square. Slowly his memory came back faster to him, down to the last detail until suddenly he tasted the ashes in his mouth, something that he would think rotten soap, if there was such a thing, would taste like. With a gag he shot up in the bed, holding both hands over his mouth, and hacked, his lungs burning up with the sudden movement and the sudden pain, and he felt the retinas of his eyes seemed to seep in white pain and color the insides of his eyelids white, so he could see nothing else. He thought that this time, he would truly die - not from the fire in the building, but from the pain. But slowly, like the slow fading of the black and white dots on an old television, his mind and his eyes cleared, and still groaning gently he was laid back gently onto the bed where he lay, still clenching the sheets as if the white sparkles would jump back into his vision any moment. His lungs wheezed his breath in and out, and he felt weary. It was hard to keep his eyes open.
"Shindou?", a voice asked softly. He turned his eyes to see Touya there, trying not to look concerned but failing, and he took his hand and patted the other's gently where it was on the side of the bed. He couldn't talk - his throat was still on fire, along with the rest of his lungs, but he managed to smile somehow and show that he was okay. No one did anything for a moment, and then Touya smiled. "I'm glad you're awake."
Gradually Hikaru managed to move his other hand and tap his wrist. In response, the ni dan looked down at his watch and announced time and date. For a little while, Hikaru let the ni dan talk - he got the distinct feeling that he'd never hear Touya say as much as half this many words at once in his entire lifetime ever again - and he listened, hearing the chatter about what presents and gifts people had brought, who had visited, and what everyone's reactions were. It wasn't like Touya to talk at all, he knew, but for once he was witnessing something he hadn't exactly seen before: the ni dan had forgotten formality and was now talking to him as if he'd known Hikaru forever. Of course, that didn't mean that Touya WASN'T the most infuriatingly polite person he'd ever met, no exceptions, but it was. . .nice, hearing Touya talk like he was still young and innocent. It wasn't the first time it occurred to him that Touya Akira was the loneliest boy he'd ever met.
But Touya ran out of things to say after a little while of describing how Ogata's face looked when he realized that Touya Akira had been visiting his rival in the hospital, and his father's gruff approval of Hikaru's actions, holding in higher-than-holy respect for saving his son's life. They sat in silence for a little while, Touya smiling a little (probably of the priceless Kodak moment where Ogata had all but squawked at him sitting by Hikaru) and holding his hand. Hikaru watched him for a little while, then asked bluntly, "Am I going to die now?"
Touya jumped with a little surprise, and gave a rather sweet smile at the subject. "No - they say you might have some breathing problems, but nothing serious. Something due to the carbon dioxide in the air permeating into your lung tissue or something. . ." Hikaru didn't say anything, but looked on, knowing that Touya had more to say. "No, you won't escape from Go for a little while - you still have your match against me to play, someday, and you know that I'll be waiting for you then." Akira gave a little smile, and his eyes were determined. "You won't beat me."
Hikaru grinned at the words. THAT was more like the Touya that he was used to, challenging every word. "Are you a fortuneteller?"
Touya looked at him a little strangely, as if he was half-afraid that Hikaru was hallucinating or something. "No. . ."
"Then you can't say you'll win."
Akira gave a smile to that and that was the end of that. Hikaru could read it in his face, though, just the way that Touya looked down and twiddled his fingers nervously, one thumb running down the back of Hikaru's hand in a warm, firm grasp. That in itself was a strange thing: he'd always thought Touya was cold, icy when stubborn, frozen when in a match - never had he thought of Touya as warm. Something had changed internally in Touya, he decided, some sort of life-threatening change. Or, rather, perhaps not life-threatening - life-altering would be a better description, he decided.
"Waya asked me something", Touya started softly, and Hikaru could see almost see the fire that Touya saw, streaming above him where he, himself must be, and Touya was looking at the window to see if someone would come out of it. "He asked me if it'd been the opposite, would I do the same thing for you?" Then the fire was gone, along with the glow, and Hikaru visibly saw Touya curl back up in his snail shell in guilt. "I couldn't answer, Shindou - I couldn't feel a moment where I'd thought of you as a friend, or perhaps someone who would someday save someone else just from the goodness of your own heart - it never occurred to me to be human, you know. I started to wonder. . .Go hasn't taught this to me, has it? I guessed that it must be your own experiences that taught you this, maybe because you have so many people around you. I - I doubted my ability to feel, you know, like I wasn't feeling human enough. I couldn't see how you could do such a thing, to go inside a burning building and just save someone out of the necessity of saving someone's life. . .I couldn't say that I would do the same, and I was a-ashamed, a-and -"
"So? Would you do it for me now? Would you do it for anyone now? If you heard that there was a person trapped inside a house during an earthquake, and everyone was outside, would you be the one to step forward and say that you'd go into the house and pull that person out?"
"I. . .", Touya faltered a little. It was a little like making a promise, he supposed, a promise to be compassionate. He bit his lip for a moment, and he felt ashamed of the feeling he had for himself, the pride he had and all the times someone said to him "you'll grow to be great". But in this, his self-worth wasn't of the question - it was his life that was in question, not the quality of his life, and in that aspect, he was no better than anyone else. "Yes", he breathed out. Hikaru's expression didn't change.
"Are you hurt?"
Touya started for a moment. "Yes", he said again, "not from the fire, though. From my pride, yes. From my selfishness, yes. You brought the question, but you were only prompting me to look inside myself. I see now why someone would do that when the idea would have preposterous for me to jump inside a building before when I had such a life before me." He smiled a little wryly. "Japanese are always self-sacrificing, aren't they? They delight in blaming themselves."
Hikaru gave a soft laugh. He couldn't laugh to hard because every breath he took seemed to bring just more pain to him. He tried to hold his breath, but that just hurt him even more. "As long as you know", he said finally. "Your life is no better than anyone else's. You may do a lot in life, but your life is still the same value as mine. It's that willingness to give it, though, that sets you apart. You're right - Go can't teach you how to be human. It can only teach you strategy. You have to learn other ways, from other people." He gave a little smile. "Get some friends. Don't hang out with those old geezers all the time, okay?"
Akira gave a smile at that. "Mercy", he said softly before leaving.
"Yes", Hikaru agreed. "Humans need that." And then he turned and went back to sleep. Akira closed the door behind him, and looked down at his hands. There were worth more than picking up Go stones, now - they were made to work miracles. They glowed, faintly, his fingers, he could see the tiny sparkles like inward light coming from them. Then, dropping them to his sides, he walked out of the building into the street.
Author's note:
Sorry. Didn't mean that to be so long drawn out. Don't smack me for saying that Go can't teach someone to be human - certainly, there were about five things in this story that I completely disagreed with, but still wrote anyway, so don't blame me for stupid ideas; I mean, I'm just a writer. Where Inspiration wants to take me, it'll take me. But, yeah. I'm starting to plan another story. . .I'm not sure if it'll be for Hikaru no Go, though, so give me a little time on the subject.
Andrea Weiling
When finally he awoke again, he thought it must be that someone was shining a light directly in his eye - maybe he was at the eye doctor and had fallen asleep - but strange, he couldn't think of anything but fire and sparks and ash, all dancing before his eyes like some hellish pagan ritual. And the light, it stung like a million needles straight into his eyes, like they were all trying to tear his eye apart and look inside. It was like he was dead: there was just light, stretching out in eternity before him, and he couldn't feel anything, not his hands or his head. He wondered how he could think - even more than that, he wondered if all the religions in the world were wrong and when you died you simply became part of light particles forever - and he wondered why it was taking so long for an angel or a demon to come get him and send him to Heaven or Hell or whatever. And finally the pain became so sharp, especially near his heart, and he had to close his eyes again.
It was like a well, he supposed. He promised himself that he'd only rest for a little bit, but when he opened his eyes again, it was already evening. Somehow he connected that when he'd last opened his eyes, there'd been light, angry and red, shooting sparks up in front of him, and the third floor awash with gasoline that he had to cross, and he remembered Touya in his arms, so heavy and he was so fatigued. He wondered why he did that - it wasn't that he bore Touya any ill will, but rather, he wasn't sure where he'd gotten the notion that if he died, he'd be a martyr in the history of Go forever or something. Japanese were always like that, he guessed, even though it was being stereotypical of him to say such - they were always self-giving, and even though they expected something in return, what they expected and what they SAID they expected were two completely different amounts of favors.
In that aspect, then, he was probably more like a calloused American. Of course, the definition "calloused American" was probably being biased as well, but for the moment, he didn't quite care. He half-regretted he was alive - he couldn't play Go forever in Heaven, then.
The room was small and square. Slowly his memory came back faster to him, down to the last detail until suddenly he tasted the ashes in his mouth, something that he would think rotten soap, if there was such a thing, would taste like. With a gag he shot up in the bed, holding both hands over his mouth, and hacked, his lungs burning up with the sudden movement and the sudden pain, and he felt the retinas of his eyes seemed to seep in white pain and color the insides of his eyelids white, so he could see nothing else. He thought that this time, he would truly die - not from the fire in the building, but from the pain. But slowly, like the slow fading of the black and white dots on an old television, his mind and his eyes cleared, and still groaning gently he was laid back gently onto the bed where he lay, still clenching the sheets as if the white sparkles would jump back into his vision any moment. His lungs wheezed his breath in and out, and he felt weary. It was hard to keep his eyes open.
"Shindou?", a voice asked softly. He turned his eyes to see Touya there, trying not to look concerned but failing, and he took his hand and patted the other's gently where it was on the side of the bed. He couldn't talk - his throat was still on fire, along with the rest of his lungs, but he managed to smile somehow and show that he was okay. No one did anything for a moment, and then Touya smiled. "I'm glad you're awake."
Gradually Hikaru managed to move his other hand and tap his wrist. In response, the ni dan looked down at his watch and announced time and date. For a little while, Hikaru let the ni dan talk - he got the distinct feeling that he'd never hear Touya say as much as half this many words at once in his entire lifetime ever again - and he listened, hearing the chatter about what presents and gifts people had brought, who had visited, and what everyone's reactions were. It wasn't like Touya to talk at all, he knew, but for once he was witnessing something he hadn't exactly seen before: the ni dan had forgotten formality and was now talking to him as if he'd known Hikaru forever. Of course, that didn't mean that Touya WASN'T the most infuriatingly polite person he'd ever met, no exceptions, but it was. . .nice, hearing Touya talk like he was still young and innocent. It wasn't the first time it occurred to him that Touya Akira was the loneliest boy he'd ever met.
But Touya ran out of things to say after a little while of describing how Ogata's face looked when he realized that Touya Akira had been visiting his rival in the hospital, and his father's gruff approval of Hikaru's actions, holding in higher-than-holy respect for saving his son's life. They sat in silence for a little while, Touya smiling a little (probably of the priceless Kodak moment where Ogata had all but squawked at him sitting by Hikaru) and holding his hand. Hikaru watched him for a little while, then asked bluntly, "Am I going to die now?"
Touya jumped with a little surprise, and gave a rather sweet smile at the subject. "No - they say you might have some breathing problems, but nothing serious. Something due to the carbon dioxide in the air permeating into your lung tissue or something. . ." Hikaru didn't say anything, but looked on, knowing that Touya had more to say. "No, you won't escape from Go for a little while - you still have your match against me to play, someday, and you know that I'll be waiting for you then." Akira gave a little smile, and his eyes were determined. "You won't beat me."
Hikaru grinned at the words. THAT was more like the Touya that he was used to, challenging every word. "Are you a fortuneteller?"
Touya looked at him a little strangely, as if he was half-afraid that Hikaru was hallucinating or something. "No. . ."
"Then you can't say you'll win."
Akira gave a smile to that and that was the end of that. Hikaru could read it in his face, though, just the way that Touya looked down and twiddled his fingers nervously, one thumb running down the back of Hikaru's hand in a warm, firm grasp. That in itself was a strange thing: he'd always thought Touya was cold, icy when stubborn, frozen when in a match - never had he thought of Touya as warm. Something had changed internally in Touya, he decided, some sort of life-threatening change. Or, rather, perhaps not life-threatening - life-altering would be a better description, he decided.
"Waya asked me something", Touya started softly, and Hikaru could see almost see the fire that Touya saw, streaming above him where he, himself must be, and Touya was looking at the window to see if someone would come out of it. "He asked me if it'd been the opposite, would I do the same thing for you?" Then the fire was gone, along with the glow, and Hikaru visibly saw Touya curl back up in his snail shell in guilt. "I couldn't answer, Shindou - I couldn't feel a moment where I'd thought of you as a friend, or perhaps someone who would someday save someone else just from the goodness of your own heart - it never occurred to me to be human, you know. I started to wonder. . .Go hasn't taught this to me, has it? I guessed that it must be your own experiences that taught you this, maybe because you have so many people around you. I - I doubted my ability to feel, you know, like I wasn't feeling human enough. I couldn't see how you could do such a thing, to go inside a burning building and just save someone out of the necessity of saving someone's life. . .I couldn't say that I would do the same, and I was a-ashamed, a-and -"
"So? Would you do it for me now? Would you do it for anyone now? If you heard that there was a person trapped inside a house during an earthquake, and everyone was outside, would you be the one to step forward and say that you'd go into the house and pull that person out?"
"I. . .", Touya faltered a little. It was a little like making a promise, he supposed, a promise to be compassionate. He bit his lip for a moment, and he felt ashamed of the feeling he had for himself, the pride he had and all the times someone said to him "you'll grow to be great". But in this, his self-worth wasn't of the question - it was his life that was in question, not the quality of his life, and in that aspect, he was no better than anyone else. "Yes", he breathed out. Hikaru's expression didn't change.
"Are you hurt?"
Touya started for a moment. "Yes", he said again, "not from the fire, though. From my pride, yes. From my selfishness, yes. You brought the question, but you were only prompting me to look inside myself. I see now why someone would do that when the idea would have preposterous for me to jump inside a building before when I had such a life before me." He smiled a little wryly. "Japanese are always self-sacrificing, aren't they? They delight in blaming themselves."
Hikaru gave a soft laugh. He couldn't laugh to hard because every breath he took seemed to bring just more pain to him. He tried to hold his breath, but that just hurt him even more. "As long as you know", he said finally. "Your life is no better than anyone else's. You may do a lot in life, but your life is still the same value as mine. It's that willingness to give it, though, that sets you apart. You're right - Go can't teach you how to be human. It can only teach you strategy. You have to learn other ways, from other people." He gave a little smile. "Get some friends. Don't hang out with those old geezers all the time, okay?"
Akira gave a smile at that. "Mercy", he said softly before leaving.
"Yes", Hikaru agreed. "Humans need that." And then he turned and went back to sleep. Akira closed the door behind him, and looked down at his hands. There were worth more than picking up Go stones, now - they were made to work miracles. They glowed, faintly, his fingers, he could see the tiny sparkles like inward light coming from them. Then, dropping them to his sides, he walked out of the building into the street.
Author's note:
Sorry. Didn't mean that to be so long drawn out. Don't smack me for saying that Go can't teach someone to be human - certainly, there were about five things in this story that I completely disagreed with, but still wrote anyway, so don't blame me for stupid ideas; I mean, I'm just a writer. Where Inspiration wants to take me, it'll take me. But, yeah. I'm starting to plan another story. . .I'm not sure if it'll be for Hikaru no Go, though, so give me a little time on the subject.
Andrea Weiling