Together, a hikaru no go fanfic

Hikaru no Go: Together by Tsaiko Together by Tsaiko

Rating: PG-13 for implied m/m sex

The disclaimer dance: I do not own , pretend to own Hikaru no Go, or think I own Hikaru no Go. Hikaru no Go and all its characters are copyright of their repsective owners which is not me. I am not making any money off of this fanfic. It for my (and others) sick amusement.

Author's Notes: I'm not sure how I feel about this story. On one hand, I can very easily see how Go can be a metaphor for sex between Hikaru and Akira. On the other hand, there's too much of a narrator's voice in it. Oh well. It's done and I don't feel like messing with it much more. Not unless someone points out a big, glaring error anyway.

They had cut their games down to twice a month. It was a mutual decision. The problem wasn't that they fought so much (although they did), or that they weren't still rivals any more (they were). The reason for them cutting back the number of games was that their Go was beginning to suffer.

It had gotten to the point that they could anticipate each other's moves before they were made. They had become so used to each other and the way they played that they were no longer growing, their game no longer improving. Stuck in a rut Hikaru and Akira had decided it was time for a change

So on the second weekend of the month Akira would travel to the small town Hikaru had moved to and stay in the tiny apartment he called home. On the fourth weekend of the month, Hikaru would catch the train into Tokyo and stay at Akira's house. They would play Go for most of the weekend, breaking for meals and the occasional excursion outside to see something other than a goban.

In-between these games, Hikaru and Akira would play others, hoarding new moves and new approaches to the game until the time they could use them against each other. As with most things between the two rivals, it had become something of a competition. Who could bring the best and most creative new strategy to the goban? Consequently, their game improved by leaps and bounds, and they once more reclaimed their titles as the two fastest rising stars in the world of Go.

On one rainy afternoon, at Hikaru's house, the two helped each other touch the Hand of God.

It started off innocently enough. Nigiri had Hikaru taking black while Akira took white. The first stone was placed on the upper right hoshi. Akira responded. It was while they were still in fuseki that they realized that there was something different about this game. As the rain pattered outside, stone after stone was laid down.

Every move seemed perfect. Hikaru would attack, and Akira would counter. Then Akira would move forward and Hikaru would defend. Back and forth, thrust and parry. As they became more and more engrossed, the patterns became more and more complex.

Hikaru and Akira played until the end. Neither resigned. When the final stone was laid they both just stared at the board. The patterns of black and white were both intricate and beautiful.

Akira realized with a start that they would have to count territory in order to find out who had won. He couldn't tell just from looking at the board. There couldn't have been more than half a moku difference. Even though he had just played the stones the patterns they formed were like nothing he'd done before. He didn't know where they had come from, how his mind had devised this or that response to Hikaru's moves. Shaking and breathing like he had just run a marathon, Akira reached a hand out to begin dividing territory.

Hikaru's hand stopped him, warm fingers sliding around his wrist before he could move the stones.

"Don't." Akira looked up into Hikaru's eyes. Hikaru was also breathing heavily.

"Shindou, we need to see who won."

"It doesn't matter, Touya," Hikaru said with a shake of his head. Akira looked down at the board and realized Hikaru was right. It didn't matter.

"It was like touching the Hand of God," Akira murmured fingers still hovering over the played stones. Hikaru's hand tightened around his wrist pulling him forward. Akira had a split second in which to look up before Hikaru's lips were touching his. Their knees bumped the goban, and he could hear the stones fall to the floor.

Akira pulled away briefly from the kiss. "Shindou... that game..."

"I can reconstruct it," Hikaru stated.

"Oh. Good." All the resistance in Akira melted with that assurance. They kissed over the goban, and Akira had the thought that he would have it no other way. He snaked an arm around Hikaru's shoulders. Hikaru's breath caught, and Akira used it to his advantage, his tongue sliding past Hikaru's shocked lips.

Thrust and parry. Attack and counter. Beautiful.

Like touching the Hand of God...

--------------------------------

Later, Akira woke to an unfamiliar bed and an absence of warmth. He blinked up at a ceiling that wasn't his own, his brow wrinkling in confusion. What had happened? The cool sheet against bare skin reminded him of just what had happened and how far they had gone and... how was he supposed to look Shindou in the face after that? Where was Shindou? Akira reached out a tentative arm but encountered nothing.

The familiar pachi of Go stones told him all he needed to know.

"Shindou?" Akira asked as he sat up, holding the sheet around him. It was a little late for modesty, but he did it anyway. It was probably a little late to still be calling each other by their family name as well, but it was something familiar in a world that had suddenly turned unfamiliar around him.

Hikaru made a frustrated sound as he laid another stone, pachi, against the board. He was sitting on the floor of his room in nothing but his boxers. Akira shivered in sympathy, cold even with the sheets and without Shindou. He couldn't imagine why Shindou... Hikaru's teeth weren't chattering.

"It's wrong..." Hikaru said eventually. He snatched a stone from the board, replaced it, and made another sound of frustration. "I can't remember the patterns. I had them, and now they're gone."

"It doesn't matter...."

"Of course it matters," Hikaru yelled, almost screamed. He turned towards Akira with tears of frustration in his eyes. "Don't you get it? I had the Hand of God and I lost it. I lost it. Everything he wanted, everything he worked for, and I lost it."

Akira wasn't sure who this "he" Hikaru was talking about was, and it didn't seem right to ask when Hikaru was this vulnerable. He suppressed the surge of jealousy as well. That wasn't what Hikaru needed from him right now. "It's okay, Shindou."

"It's not okay." Shindou hiccupped at the end of those words and Akira realized just how close Hikaru was to breaking down entirely.

"It is okay because you'll find it again," Akira said. As he spoke, he believed it himself. "We'll find it again. The Hand of God isn't lost. We can always get there again. Together." He offered his hand out to Hikaru, silently urging him to come back to bed.

"Together?" Warm fingers slid against his and Akira nodded determinedly.

"Yes. Together."