Disclaimer: Same as always, I don't own Hikaru no Go, never had and never
will.
Author's notes:
Again, any mistakes are due to my own carelessness as this never for past my beta-reader, Ianthem, so it's none of his fault. It's all mine, all mine! *laughs maniacally*
Yay! Second part out, although I stated that the first one was the end, mainly because I couldn't bear to leave them like that. Blame me for being a softie. This one's from Akira's point of view (yes, the last one was from Hikaru's), so I hope O didn't confuse anyone.Umm, I read this again after writing it, and then realised that this ending wasn't exactly any a "happy" ending, but I like its ambiguousness. ^.^
And, I just realised that I've never been to Japanese airport before to the situation is completely a figment of my imagination. If anyone knows anout how a real airport is ike, please tell me and I'll fix it. Thank you!:)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
To Know Nothing: Chapter 2
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
*~* The Fallen Dusk *~*
"Kuso!" I curse silently, the second hand continuing its pilgrimage, a luminous arrow in the night.
I lie back, limp against the armchair in the airport, feeling the chilly embrace of the air cut though my shirt. I'm wearing it now, the turtle neck sweater that you bought for my birthday. Even now, I regret wearing it. I detest it, its design jarring to my eye. All because you bought it.
There's no reason for me to hate it; the material is smooth, the fitting perfect. I always wondered how you managed to find something so wonderfully flawless that I fell in love with it the moment you handed it to me. I swore I'd only wear it to something special, to commemorate some special event with you.
Little was I to know that the day I wore it for you was the last day of our friendship. I loved that sweater, and now I hate it. Once I arrive in China, I'll tear that sweater off and burn it, and feel oddly happy as the wine-red flames lap it hungrily up. I don't even know why I wore it today. But I still love that sweater.
It is a midnight ebony, patterned with emerald green and burnt amber diamonds. You told me the black signified my dark side, the vicious and fierce side of me that unrelentingly strove to win. You said it was the bottomless pit of my soul, that place where I secreted my deepest feelings to achieve the cold refined mask that I perpetually had on.
You told me the diamonds were the sparkling side of me, a stark contrast to the hidden abyss of feelings that I concealed. They were the side of me that sparkled, the one that lent my eyes the fiery lustre. You told me the green diamonds showed the jade of my iris, the clarity and purity of my soul.
I dismissed all that with a light laugh, shaking my head as a rare smile spread across my face. But you never explained the burnt amber diamonds. And I never asked either.
I grip my luggage with a deathly grip, knuckles turning ashen white as the pain intensifies. This afternoon comes flooding back, its bitterness leaving an acerbic aftertaste that refuses to dissolve. It lingers in my tongue, a painful scar that does not heal. Even my numbness cannot disguise its searing sting.
It will stay, a throbbing pain that even a foreign land will not soothe. That nothing can relieve me of.
I recall the way you said those words, the way you seemed to enunciate its every syllable. You didn't care much, did you? You're always accompanied by friends, swamped with attention that I'd be luck even to receive once. Do I even mean anything to you?
You're surrounded by a whirlwind of supporters, fans, acquaintances. You stand in the eye, charismatic, obliging and charming. Everyone clamours for your attention, for a chance to meet you. Even I've fallen for that beautiful smile of yours.
Even, Touya Akira, the cold bastard. Why else would I spend all my free time with you? Why else would I fly into a violent rage when you were late? You're the only one that I really care about, the only one whom I reveal my true self too. The only one I deem worthy of seeing beyond my carefully sculpted mask.
You think you can read me. But what you fail to see is that I chase after you, not the other way round. I spend my time chasing you, fervently pursuing you to get you to notice me amongst your countless other companions. I want you to see me, as a rival, and also as a friend. And perhaps, something even more.
Although.. When you think I'm not looking, I catch a flicker of reciprocation, just a silver of recognition from you. It's just that momentary flash that spurns me to bother getting angry with you. To make you see that I care about you, and that I am nothing under those piercing eyes.
Your eyes fascinate me, causing me get lost in their glittering depths, mersmerised by their haunted beauty. The emerald ones a mirror to my own, their steady gaze like the untouched surface of an enchanted pool. Your eyes seem amethyst from a certain angle, their colour deep and rich; hiding in their murky depths untold secrets that I will never again see.
Because you are gone. You appeared in my life, like a streak of lightning that jolted me from my complacent dream. You raced me, feet pounding in hot pursuit as you rose quickly through the ranks. But I rose even faster, Now, I you vanish before my eyes, a whisper of smoke lingering in your wake. You've left me, cold and deserted on the road alone. Have you surpassed me, or have you just fallen behind?
I gaze up, unconsciously hugging myself for warmth as the wind seems to whip past, leaving an icy blast that hits me in full force. The other passengers waiting for the delayed flight are muted and silent as the clock reads two in the morning. No one sees anyone else, they live in their own world, a surreal bubble of silence that no one disturbs. I too should fall asleep, and let the chill and fatigue envelop me as I drift off, oblivious into an unending void.
*~*
Someone is helping me into a warm jacket, the person's fingers now working on the zip as he pulls it up. I feel the soothing warmth, the heat that washes over my numb limbs. Now the person is gently massaging and holding my hands, trying to work the warm back to the frozen digits. I murmur indistinctly, breathing a quiet "Thank you," as I open my eyes.
The person is just a dark blur, a shadowed figure kneeling before me as he seems intent on his task. I gaze at him through my half-closed lids, brain fighting to register the familiar face. "Touya, you're awake," The person before me smiles softly, his eyes lighting up as recognition dawns on me.
This is Shindou. Shindou Hikaru. I am startled, jerked awake and shocked. I brush the strands of hair covering my face, running my fingers through to try and get some semblance of normality. Shindou, he was here to see me off.
"But why?" I ask, hesitantly, afraid that I'll be hurt again, afraid that he would drive me away. I resist the urge to chase him away, shout at the top of my lungs and curse him to the deepest pit of hell: it's too early in the morning for that, and I also feel strangely comforted to see him. After all I am leaving. What he does now doesn't matter anymore; I no longer feel anything for him.
I see his features soften, and my defenses are let down immediately. I feel more vulnerable now, caught like this early in the morning, and unprepared to see him. He turns his eyes directly at me, his eyes molten amber with amethyst flecks, framed by his long lashes.
His eyes, they seem to stand out in the dim room, glowing and iridescent. I turn away from them, frightened by their intensity and strength, awed by their passion and luminosity.
He speaks now, gripping my hand tighter as he fights for words to say. He seems at a loss, panic spreading across his features. I can feel the tension building, his grip on my hand getting tighter and tighter by the second. "It's alright, I understand," I reply, willing the strained atmosphere to go away, praying that he never meant the words that came out of his mouth.
Once uttered, some words can never be taken back. My heart freezes, as I turn around with an imperious expression on my face, to face him. He doesn't falter under my harsh gaze, but instead flashes one pf those irresistible smiles that I've fallen for countless of times, like when he wanted me to forgive him for missing a meeting, or when he wanted me to treat him to lunch.
He knows me too well, he knows that I cannot stay really angry at him for long. I give up and smile back, genuinely glad of his presence. He stands up and nudges me to the side of the chair, half perching on the arm, half resting on the seat. Staring at me, he smiles amusedly at my rumpled countenance.
I glare back, challenging him to make a comment, as his light laughter shatters the silence of the room as a light tinkle floating past my ears. I relax my frown. With him, it's easier to laugh than to smile, and I can't help but do so.
We lie contented, relishing each other's company as neither wants to break the silence. My mind wanders off, staring at his face, and most of all, those enchanting eyes. They captivate me, drawing me into their irresistible beauty and locking me into their mysterious embrace.
Then it hits me. Amber. Shindou's eyes are brilliant amber. The amber on the jacket, it makes sense now. Shindou's eyes are also emerald green. I never realised it before. When I gaze for a long time into those eyes, I am reflected in their depths, I feel my strength intensified a hundredfold with their power, as if we shared the same skill and energy.
The announcement is booming over the system now, that my plane has arrived. I disentangle myself from Shindou, not even realizing that he had fallen asleep in the chair. I brush his hair back a little shifting him into the most comfortable position before I leave.
I gather up my luggage, preparing to go. As I cross the door, I turn to look through the glass on his limp figure splayed on the chair, giving him a final smile as I go. He sits up, flashing me a victory sign as he waves back. He smiles again, this time it's tinged with a light sadness that threatens to surface.
Then he waves me to leave, that it is time to go. I give a last wave, my footsteps echoing down the long hallway, the ghostly memory of his smile etched in my mind.
The journey will be short, and the first person I'll meet when I return, is of course, Shindou. My steps grow lighter at the thought, and as I hug the jacket with a number "5"around me, I leave behind one of the most precious things in my life. One may almost see the sakura blossoms outside, their petals drifting by, swirling exquisitely around the one I left behind. ::Owari::
Author's note (again): I sort of realised that the two chapters were written in different styles. I meant them to be the same, although I just couldn't get it right, plus the fact that they're meant to be different charcters anyway.
Just curious, do you like Shindou's style, or Touya's style better? :)
Author's notes:
Again, any mistakes are due to my own carelessness as this never for past my beta-reader, Ianthem, so it's none of his fault. It's all mine, all mine! *laughs maniacally*
Yay! Second part out, although I stated that the first one was the end, mainly because I couldn't bear to leave them like that. Blame me for being a softie. This one's from Akira's point of view (yes, the last one was from Hikaru's), so I hope O didn't confuse anyone.Umm, I read this again after writing it, and then realised that this ending wasn't exactly any a "happy" ending, but I like its ambiguousness. ^.^
And, I just realised that I've never been to Japanese airport before to the situation is completely a figment of my imagination. If anyone knows anout how a real airport is ike, please tell me and I'll fix it. Thank you!:)
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
To Know Nothing: Chapter 2
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
*~* The Fallen Dusk *~*
"Kuso!" I curse silently, the second hand continuing its pilgrimage, a luminous arrow in the night.
I lie back, limp against the armchair in the airport, feeling the chilly embrace of the air cut though my shirt. I'm wearing it now, the turtle neck sweater that you bought for my birthday. Even now, I regret wearing it. I detest it, its design jarring to my eye. All because you bought it.
There's no reason for me to hate it; the material is smooth, the fitting perfect. I always wondered how you managed to find something so wonderfully flawless that I fell in love with it the moment you handed it to me. I swore I'd only wear it to something special, to commemorate some special event with you.
Little was I to know that the day I wore it for you was the last day of our friendship. I loved that sweater, and now I hate it. Once I arrive in China, I'll tear that sweater off and burn it, and feel oddly happy as the wine-red flames lap it hungrily up. I don't even know why I wore it today. But I still love that sweater.
It is a midnight ebony, patterned with emerald green and burnt amber diamonds. You told me the black signified my dark side, the vicious and fierce side of me that unrelentingly strove to win. You said it was the bottomless pit of my soul, that place where I secreted my deepest feelings to achieve the cold refined mask that I perpetually had on.
You told me the diamonds were the sparkling side of me, a stark contrast to the hidden abyss of feelings that I concealed. They were the side of me that sparkled, the one that lent my eyes the fiery lustre. You told me the green diamonds showed the jade of my iris, the clarity and purity of my soul.
I dismissed all that with a light laugh, shaking my head as a rare smile spread across my face. But you never explained the burnt amber diamonds. And I never asked either.
I grip my luggage with a deathly grip, knuckles turning ashen white as the pain intensifies. This afternoon comes flooding back, its bitterness leaving an acerbic aftertaste that refuses to dissolve. It lingers in my tongue, a painful scar that does not heal. Even my numbness cannot disguise its searing sting.
It will stay, a throbbing pain that even a foreign land will not soothe. That nothing can relieve me of.
I recall the way you said those words, the way you seemed to enunciate its every syllable. You didn't care much, did you? You're always accompanied by friends, swamped with attention that I'd be luck even to receive once. Do I even mean anything to you?
You're surrounded by a whirlwind of supporters, fans, acquaintances. You stand in the eye, charismatic, obliging and charming. Everyone clamours for your attention, for a chance to meet you. Even I've fallen for that beautiful smile of yours.
Even, Touya Akira, the cold bastard. Why else would I spend all my free time with you? Why else would I fly into a violent rage when you were late? You're the only one that I really care about, the only one whom I reveal my true self too. The only one I deem worthy of seeing beyond my carefully sculpted mask.
You think you can read me. But what you fail to see is that I chase after you, not the other way round. I spend my time chasing you, fervently pursuing you to get you to notice me amongst your countless other companions. I want you to see me, as a rival, and also as a friend. And perhaps, something even more.
Although.. When you think I'm not looking, I catch a flicker of reciprocation, just a silver of recognition from you. It's just that momentary flash that spurns me to bother getting angry with you. To make you see that I care about you, and that I am nothing under those piercing eyes.
Your eyes fascinate me, causing me get lost in their glittering depths, mersmerised by their haunted beauty. The emerald ones a mirror to my own, their steady gaze like the untouched surface of an enchanted pool. Your eyes seem amethyst from a certain angle, their colour deep and rich; hiding in their murky depths untold secrets that I will never again see.
Because you are gone. You appeared in my life, like a streak of lightning that jolted me from my complacent dream. You raced me, feet pounding in hot pursuit as you rose quickly through the ranks. But I rose even faster, Now, I you vanish before my eyes, a whisper of smoke lingering in your wake. You've left me, cold and deserted on the road alone. Have you surpassed me, or have you just fallen behind?
I gaze up, unconsciously hugging myself for warmth as the wind seems to whip past, leaving an icy blast that hits me in full force. The other passengers waiting for the delayed flight are muted and silent as the clock reads two in the morning. No one sees anyone else, they live in their own world, a surreal bubble of silence that no one disturbs. I too should fall asleep, and let the chill and fatigue envelop me as I drift off, oblivious into an unending void.
*~*
Someone is helping me into a warm jacket, the person's fingers now working on the zip as he pulls it up. I feel the soothing warmth, the heat that washes over my numb limbs. Now the person is gently massaging and holding my hands, trying to work the warm back to the frozen digits. I murmur indistinctly, breathing a quiet "Thank you," as I open my eyes.
The person is just a dark blur, a shadowed figure kneeling before me as he seems intent on his task. I gaze at him through my half-closed lids, brain fighting to register the familiar face. "Touya, you're awake," The person before me smiles softly, his eyes lighting up as recognition dawns on me.
This is Shindou. Shindou Hikaru. I am startled, jerked awake and shocked. I brush the strands of hair covering my face, running my fingers through to try and get some semblance of normality. Shindou, he was here to see me off.
"But why?" I ask, hesitantly, afraid that I'll be hurt again, afraid that he would drive me away. I resist the urge to chase him away, shout at the top of my lungs and curse him to the deepest pit of hell: it's too early in the morning for that, and I also feel strangely comforted to see him. After all I am leaving. What he does now doesn't matter anymore; I no longer feel anything for him.
I see his features soften, and my defenses are let down immediately. I feel more vulnerable now, caught like this early in the morning, and unprepared to see him. He turns his eyes directly at me, his eyes molten amber with amethyst flecks, framed by his long lashes.
His eyes, they seem to stand out in the dim room, glowing and iridescent. I turn away from them, frightened by their intensity and strength, awed by their passion and luminosity.
He speaks now, gripping my hand tighter as he fights for words to say. He seems at a loss, panic spreading across his features. I can feel the tension building, his grip on my hand getting tighter and tighter by the second. "It's alright, I understand," I reply, willing the strained atmosphere to go away, praying that he never meant the words that came out of his mouth.
Once uttered, some words can never be taken back. My heart freezes, as I turn around with an imperious expression on my face, to face him. He doesn't falter under my harsh gaze, but instead flashes one pf those irresistible smiles that I've fallen for countless of times, like when he wanted me to forgive him for missing a meeting, or when he wanted me to treat him to lunch.
He knows me too well, he knows that I cannot stay really angry at him for long. I give up and smile back, genuinely glad of his presence. He stands up and nudges me to the side of the chair, half perching on the arm, half resting on the seat. Staring at me, he smiles amusedly at my rumpled countenance.
I glare back, challenging him to make a comment, as his light laughter shatters the silence of the room as a light tinkle floating past my ears. I relax my frown. With him, it's easier to laugh than to smile, and I can't help but do so.
We lie contented, relishing each other's company as neither wants to break the silence. My mind wanders off, staring at his face, and most of all, those enchanting eyes. They captivate me, drawing me into their irresistible beauty and locking me into their mysterious embrace.
Then it hits me. Amber. Shindou's eyes are brilliant amber. The amber on the jacket, it makes sense now. Shindou's eyes are also emerald green. I never realised it before. When I gaze for a long time into those eyes, I am reflected in their depths, I feel my strength intensified a hundredfold with their power, as if we shared the same skill and energy.
The announcement is booming over the system now, that my plane has arrived. I disentangle myself from Shindou, not even realizing that he had fallen asleep in the chair. I brush his hair back a little shifting him into the most comfortable position before I leave.
I gather up my luggage, preparing to go. As I cross the door, I turn to look through the glass on his limp figure splayed on the chair, giving him a final smile as I go. He sits up, flashing me a victory sign as he waves back. He smiles again, this time it's tinged with a light sadness that threatens to surface.
Then he waves me to leave, that it is time to go. I give a last wave, my footsteps echoing down the long hallway, the ghostly memory of his smile etched in my mind.
The journey will be short, and the first person I'll meet when I return, is of course, Shindou. My steps grow lighter at the thought, and as I hug the jacket with a number "5"around me, I leave behind one of the most precious things in my life. One may almost see the sakura blossoms outside, their petals drifting by, swirling exquisitely around the one I left behind. ::Owari::
Author's note (again): I sort of realised that the two chapters were written in different styles. I meant them to be the same, although I just couldn't get it right, plus the fact that they're meant to be different charcters anyway.
Just curious, do you like Shindou's style, or Touya's style better? :)