Note: "Mirror Image" is co-authored by Datenshi Blue and Jiro. The story is organized so that every odd chapter is written from Hikaru's POV (by Datenshi Blue) and every even chapter is written from Akira's POV (by Jiro) So if you're confused as to why Hikaru is suddenly walking around in the rain moping ~ and wearing LOAFERS no less!~ then I guess you didn't read this notice first, huh? ^_^

Disclaimers: Not ours… thanks for reminding us....No, really. Thanks. O_o

Warnings: Shonen-ai. Angst. (heh, heh. Touya torturing is a favorite passtime of mine ^_^)

Chapter 2: The Counterfeit Smile

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Tokyo has never seemed so deserted before. The streets are empty and the sound of the rain as it pounds down onto the city drowns out the noise of my loafers as they smack against the concrete. The rain is deafening, but I don't mind. At least it keeps me from having to listen to my own thoughts.

I should probably take the subway instead of traveling to my apartment by foot, seeing as it is undoubtedly the more logical course of action. But I don't. Instead I desperately try to out run the storm. I'm not sure how long I've been running, but my cheeks are flushed and my lungs burn. I reach a tired hand up to brush away the hair that's now plastered to my face. A few strands have strayed into my eyes and I blink in discomfort, clutching my briefcase to my chest as I try in vain to keep it from getting soaked. I curse into the rain as I notice the condition of my satchel. It's ruined and all the papers and kifu contained in it are now illegible, smeared by the rain. And that knowledge only manages to darken my already foul mood.

This whole situation was preventable. I knew the storm was coming; the forecast called for heavy showers by late afternoon. I curse again in annoyance. I could have avoided all this if I had only brought an umbrella with me. I frown, remembering. Actually, I did bring an umbrella.

I left it at Shindou's.

I clutch my briefcase closer, scowling.

I'm never going back to that place again. I shouldn't have gone there to begin with. If Shindou had wanted me to come he would have invited me. But he didn't even tell me he was moving. If I hadn't bumped into Isumi-san outside of the Nihon Kiin this afternoon, I wouldn't have even known Shindou had a new apartment.

I thought that maybe he just forgot to tell me about it. Shindou's like that sometimes. But honestly I should have known better.

After all, he's not as clueless as he seems. Sure he's forgetful and horribly dense at times, but he isn't stupid. I should know that better than anyone. Shindou knows what he's doing; he has his reasons. It's just like those hands he plays in go that seem like mistakes or inexperience or just plain idiocy at first. But if you take those moves at face value you discover fifteen hands later that there was actually a hidden meaning behind them the entire time. That Shindou was reading ahead.

I was so stupid. I had begun to think that maybe I was more than just his rival. That maybe I was his friend. But I'm not. And I know I have no right to be angry with him about it. He's never claimed to be anything other than my rival. I just assumed...

He didn't even tell me that he and Waya were - that they were -

The image of Shindou stratling Waya as the redhead ran his fingers affectionately through his hair comes unbidden to my mind, and I flush remembering the dazed look on Shindou's face as the other boy's hand began stroking his back. God, Shindou was so mortified when he saw us standing there, and I knew I was unwelcome. The expression on his face was enough to tell me that. When he looked at me I couldn't help but smile mockingly at myself.

Friends? We were never friends.

I pause as I fumble to grasp the key to my apartment with unfeeling fingers and unlock the door.

I'm home. How did I get here? I shrug as I slosh into the entry way. My slacks are heavy with rain water and my shirt clings stubbornly to my skin. I peel off my clothes, careful not to get the floor too wet and I suck my breath in sharply when I feel the heat of the apartment as it crashes against my skin. It stings. I'm surprised to realize how numb I had become on the way here and I mentally berate myself for being foolish enough to run home in the rain.

Still irritated by my own display of idiocy I walk down the hall. I continue past the small kitchen on the right and through the sparsely furnished living area until I reach the bathroom on the other side of the apartment. My flat is relatively small, but it's comfortable and easy to afford on my income.

I place the clothes on the towel rack to dry and hop into the tub to take a quick shower. I don't feel like washing, but I know if I don't there's a good chance I'll get sick. Not that I'm overly concerned about my health, but it would interfere with my go so I have no other choice.

A few minutes later I step out of the bathroom toweling myself dry and make my way into the bedroom. I haven't eaten anything since this afternoon, but I don't care. I'm not particularly hungry. So I change into my nightclothes and sit down on the futon.

Ogata-san and I arranged to have a friendly match tomorrow at the Nihon Kiin. He's been quite busy lately, especially now that he has won the Ouza title. He only had enough time to spare between interviews and tutorials late this Wednesday afternoon.

I riffle through the neat stack of kifu I keep in the closet, and pick out an assortment of Ogata-san's games. I try to collect as many kifu from the top players as I possibly can. I even have a few records from some of Ogata-san's net games. He plays Father over the internet whenever he can, just as I do. Father's go has evolved since his retirement, since his game with Sai. And he has pulled Ogata-san's game up along with his own. I should study the net kifu closest, I decide. Then I will go over his last match against Kurata 8-dan.


I pull the goban closer to me and I place my hand into the go ke and try to focus my attention on the board. I just don't want to think about today. I don't want to think about anything but go. Go is my life. It's my reason for living. It's who I am. That's enough for me. Friends are just a distraction. If I'm going to find the Hand of God I can't afford to have anyone holding me back. I'm lucky, really.

CRACK!

I start as I slam the stone onto the goban. I hadn't meant to place it down so hard.

I frown slightly as I notice that I haven't been recreating the game between Father and Ogata-san. I examine the shape on the board and it takes a moment before I recognize what it is: the very first game I ever played against Shindou.

Wait. No. That's not right. It's the first game I played against Shindou *after he became a pro*.

Odd. Why did I think of it like that?

I shake my head lightly to dismiss the questions that begin to nag at the back of my mind. It's pointless to wonder about it anyway. Only Shindou can give the answers to those questions. And I'll never ask them. Because I know he won't answer. Not honestly. And why should he? We're not friends.

I pick up the black and white shell stones and place them in their respective bins with the deft precision of a person who has dedicated his life to the game. Taking a small, cleansing breath I begin to recreate Ogata and Kurata-san's match one more time.

Thirty minutes later I give up. It's hopeless; I can't concentrate. I look at the clock that rests on top of my bookcase, which besides the goban and futon is the only piece of furniture in the room. It's not even eight o'clock yet. I sigh. It's still early but I'm not meeting Ogata-san until around eleven tomorrow so maybe I can study some of his kifu after I wake up. Tomorrow I'll be better. I just need to sleep. Ogata-san is not an easy opponent under any circumstances. Still, I know that someday I will surpass him. I think he knows it too. I get up, turn off the light and lie down on my futon. Go is my life. That's all that really matters. I don't need friends.

And I don't need Shindou.

***********

"I have nothing," I say, bowing my head respectfully at my opponent.

"Arigatou gozaimashita."

"Arigatou gozaimashita."

We are sitting in the back of a public game room on the second floor. Although the room is sparsely populated I am surprised to notice that no one has crowded around the table to watch our game. Though I suppose it isn't that unexpected, considering the intensity we usually display during our matches. Still, I would think the opportunity to watch two of the leading players in the go world battle one another would be too tempting to ignore. Even if they *were* frightened of us.

Perhaps Ogata-san mentioned something to the receptionist. I vaguely remember hearing her heard a few people away at the beginning of the game.

Suddenly I notice Ogata-san is looking at me from across the table, studying me as I study the goban. He has an intense interest in anything he suspects might somehow affect his go, no matter how indirectly. I give him a questioning glance but his gaze remains steady and I shrug to myself. I'm used to his scrutiny by now. As the son of his mentor and now as a future challenger, I have been, in one way or another, subject to his looks my entire life. I ignore his silent inspection and begin to examine the game we have just finished.

I wince, staring at the board. It wasn't a bad game. I only lost by one and a half moku. Still, I am disappointed. In the past few years I have grown, so much in fact that I can now defeat Ogata-san one game out of every five. But that is not enough to snatch any of his titles away from him. At least not yet.

He continues to stare at me and I shift uncomfortably in my seat as I feel his eyes burn into me. Ogata-san's gaze has a habit of being unnerving and though I have tried, with general success, to develop an immunity to it, at times even I fall victim to his looks. His eyes gleam behind his tinted glasses as I lift my gaze to meet his and I feel my throat tighten.

Something is wrong.

Normally it seems as if he is memorizing me, filing away potentially useful information to be used against me in a later game. But the face he shows now is different than the one he usually wears when studying me, though I don't know how to describe it. I avert my eyes back to the goban and try to quiet my anxiety by losing myself in the game.

"Are you upset, Touya?" he asks suddenly, ending our mutual silence abruptly.

My head snaps up and I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Why do you ask, Ogata-san?" I reply when I remember how to speak. I don't know why the question disturbs me, but it does.

"Your go, it was different today," he answers. His voice is calm and emotionless, but there's something about it that tells me that this is more than just a simple observation. I look down to study the goban, knitting my eyebrows in concentration.

It's true. My go was different today. It was less refined yet at the same time more subtle. I frown slightly. This style... it vaguely reminds me of something, though I don't know what and my ignorance disturbs me. Still, the difference is a slight one. I doubt anyone else besides Father and Ogata-san would have been able to notice. Well, maybe-

I shake my head lightly in annoyance and redirect my attention back to the goban. It doesn't matter.

I study the board a few moments longer. My go was different today, it's true, but I don't understand why that would make Ogata-san think I am upset. The game was still rather close; it's not as if I made any huge mistakes.

I lift my gaze to consider him, hoping that perhaps his face will betray his meaning; he looks back at me, expressionless. I give a small sigh. I know far too well that I won't be able to understand Ogata-san's purpose unless he wants me to. He raises an expectant eyebrow and waits for my reply.

"Hai, it was different today," I concede reluctantly. "But I'm not upset."

'It's not a lie,' I tell myself. But somehow I'm not so convinced. Ogata-san stares at me a moment longer, just long enough to let me know he isn't either. Then he raises a finger and points to the goban.

"This move here," he says, indicating a cluster of black and white stones in the upper left hand corner. I look at the board and back at Ogata-san. It was a perfectly reasonable move, though admittedly a little more daring than my usual play. Usually I probably would have cut instead of attaching, but still if you read far enough ahead... Though it's true that particular hand hadn't work out as well as I had hoped. Still it had the potential to be a devastating move had I been playing an opponent even slightly less skilled than Ogata-san. I glare up at him defiantly, waiting to be criticized. "It reminded me of something Shindou Hikaru might have done," he says, watching my facial expression with rapt attention as he speaks each word.

Shindou... Hikaru?

I blink, too stunned to respond. I look at Ogata-san then back at the board.

He's right.

The corners of Ogata-san's mouth twitch.

"We'll discuss this game later," he says after a moment, making to get up to leave. "I have an interview with Amano-san at two."

I nod dumbly, only dimly aware that it is only half past one and we have more than enough time to continue our post game discussion for a while longer. But I really don't want to be around Ogata-san right now, or anyone else for that matter. I'm not sure why, but I am suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to run away from anything even remotely pertaining to go, and Ogata-san has been kind enough to provide me with a welcome excuse to leave. Besides, we've both already memorized this game; it will be a simple matter to recreate and discuss it later.

"Hai," I reply weakly "Goodbye, Ogata-san."

"Goodbye, Touya-kun" he responds, the shadow of a smile flickering across his face as he rises from his chair. I stare at his retreating form as he leaves the game room.

Shindou Hikaru?

I sag back into the seat and stare blankly at the wall, too stunned to do anything else.

Did Ogata-san say....?

I almost smile, though I'm not entirely sure why. I knew that Ogata-san had an interest in Shindou, especially after the 'Sai' incident, but I didn't know he held him in high enough esteem to be able to recognize his technique. I don't know why I am so surprised. After all, Shindou really is almost as skilled as I am even though he's still only a lower-dan - --

My eyes widen in mortification. That's right! He's only a 3-dan. I had forgotten.

I curse. Shindou is here today. Wednesday is game day for the lower-dans, he must be here. I look at the clock. It's only 1:38. Perhaps if I leave quickly I can avoid seeing him. I head towards the elevators and press the down button. It's probably too early for any of the games to be over, but knowing Shindou he'll end it quickly. Especially since his opponent is a lower-dan. I stare down at my shoes as the elevator descends to the ground floor, trying my hardest to think about nothing.

The doors open with a soft 'ping' and I give a sigh of relief as I step into the foyer just before they close. There's no one in sight. The lobby is deserted and I whisper a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god might be listening. Then I hear it: the distinctive sound of a zipper followed by the soft rustling of paper against paper. I stop dead, too horrified to move but silently revising the prayer I had just finished.

Sitting on a chair behind a moderately large (and oh-so conveniently positioned) plant in a darkened corner is none other than my rival, Shindou Hikaru. He's hunched over in his seat, his bleached bangs hanging limply in the air as he continues to riffle through his backpack with a slight frown on his face. His eyes are intense, focused on his task, whatever it might be. He hasn't seen me yet, but that's bound to change soon.

I don't want to talk with him right now, but the doors have already shut behind me and the elevator has made its way up to the next floor. I take a sharp intake of breath and look straight ahead as I walk purposefully towards the exit, hoping that maybe he won't notice as I pass. Or if he does, that he won't say anything.

"Touya!" A familiar voice calls out my name.

I keep my eyes on the door and pretend not to hear him, which is more difficult than you might think because Shindou is so damnably loud.

"Oi, Touya!" I continue walking despite the rustling of cloth rubbing against cloth and the screech of rubber soles on linoleum tile.

"Hey, Touya!" This time the words are accompanied by a hand on my shoulder and I sigh inwardly as I turn around to look at the person attached to the foreign appendage that is demanding my attention. I mean to give him a harsh glare but I'm startled by the intensity of his gaze as my eyes meet his and the glare I had prepared for him turns into something more like a surprised gape. I blink.

"Shindou?" It comes out as a question.

"Geeze, Touya! Why didn't you stop when I called you? Are you deaf or something?" he asks in exasperation.

I look at him. He's trying to smile but he seems tense. I know he's waiting for my response.

"What do you want?" I ask coldly. It sounds harsher than I intend it to.

No. It doesn't.

Still, I can't help but feel a little guilty as his eyes flicker at my words. The fake smile is still on his face though, and the nagging of my conscience is overwhelmed by a sudden anger. Does Shindou really think I'm that stupid?

He looks down at his feet and shoves his hands roughly into his pockets.

"Er..."

I cock an eyebrow impatiently.

"I was wondering if you wanted to play a game." He says awkwardly after a short pause.

"I'm busy right now." I lie, struggling to keep my voice calm. "I have a tutoring session in twenty minutes."

"Oh," he says, and his smile falters a little. But he catches himself and it's there again, brilliant as ever. "What about after?"

God, I hate that counterfeit smile. I feel my eyes harden at the sight of it. Does he honestly believe he's fooling anyone? I grind my teeth in suppressed irritation. I don't like being lied to, and even though he's not using words to do it, Shindou is still lying. I look at him. He's waiting for my reply with that stupid, wretched smile still plastered across his face. I know that he's dreading what my answer will be and staring into those vulnerable eyes I can feel a confirmation forming in the back of my throat. But my gaze is suddenly drawn back to that awful 'smile' of his, and seeing it only adds fuel to my current furry, killing the affirmation before it can pass my lips.

"I can't," I respond tersely. "I promised Ashiwara-san I would go over some kifu with him."

I'm getting the hang of this 'lying' thing myself. I know that I should probably feel guilty, but I don't. He started it, after all.

"Oh..." he answers after a moment and the smile is gone longer this time. I'm almost thankful. Except I know that each time it falters he brings it back a little more brilliantly than before. "Then how about tomorrow?" he asks hopefully, his lips upturned in that counterfeit grin.

"It's a game day," I reply.

That's actually true.

"Gomen, I forgot." he pauses as he reaches a hand up to scratch the back of his head, a nervous habit of his. "Er...about what happened yesterday-- I mean, about Waya and me-"

Oh God. I do NOT want to talk about this.

"Sorry, but I have to go now or I'll be late for my tutoring session." I interrupt coolly before he can get another word in. I don't want to have to suffer through his explanation, or his smiles. I know what happened and it's none of my business.

"Oh, right." He answers, nodding cheerfully.

I almost wince at the spectacle.

"See you soon, Touya" he beams.

Not if there's a God.

"I'll be looking forward to it," I reply politely as I give him an icy smile. He offers me a sheepish half-grin in response that nevertheless makes his entire face seem to glow. And almost involuntarily I feel my own smile thaw. And for an instant I want nothing more than to go with him, just so I can see that smile again. The real one. The one that makes me want to smile back because I know that he's not lying to me; because I know that he's not trying to hide. But only for an instant. Then I remember why I declined his invitation in the first place. And my expression hardens again.

I give him a sharp nod of acknowledgement and without another word turn around and walk towards the exit. I know that he's still standing in the middle of the lobby, watching me. If I don't actually head for the train station he'll know I was lying.

It's still early afternoon, but it feels so much later. I have nothing to do for the rest of the day. I sigh as I go down the stairs, shrugging absently to myself. I haven't seen Isikawa-san in a while, I muse. It would be nice to talk to her, I've missed her lately. I smile approvingly at my own decision as I turn left when I reach the sidewalk and head towards my father's go salon, and away from Shindou Hikaru.

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Er... whoops ^_^ Time really flies, huh? Heh, heh.*nervous laughter* Gomen about the delay! Please don't blame Datenshi because I'm a slacker! Next time I promise I'll work faster. Anyway, please, please, PLEASE read and review. This is our first joint project and we want to know what you think. Ok? Thanks!