Chapter Seven: Ukifune - A Boat Adrift
"Mine."
"Yours."
"Definitely yours."
"What is that?" Yang Hai and Isumi gingerly opened a container bearing the logo of a nearby carryout restaurant and immediately wished they hadn't. Last week's curry was now rather furry looking. A growing pile of socks, computer supplies, X-rated manga and T-shirts in varying states of putrefaction was accumulating in the center of the room as the two cleared out under the beds. Anything that didn't smell too terrible went into Isumi's bag, since he would be leaving China the next morning.
"I can't believe we made this much of a mess in just a few weeks!" exclaimed Isumi, shoving the half-eaten curry into a plastic bag.
"Well, most of it is mine..." admitted Yang Hai. "I mean, I'm not the kind of guy that would use your leaving as an excuse to get some help in cleaning my room, right?" Isumi laughed, throwing the trash bag to his Chinese friend.
"Then you can get rid of this stuff before it starts evolving!" Sighing, he leaned back against the bed. "I think that's everything... who knew cleaning could be so tiring?!"
"That's why I avoid it whenever possible!" Yang Hai typed a few short email responses on his laptop while Isumi cracked open two cans of coffee. "So, you'll stay in touch? You've got my email address and chat handle, right?" Isumi nodded, even though his computer skills were a bit lacking. Half the time he had no idea what Yang Hai was talking about.
"Un. We'll definitely meet again, as pros."
"Yeah, but China will kick your ass!"
"Don't say that until you win!" Isumi grinned, both at the thought of winning pro tournaments and the realization that some part of himself had returned. Ever since being passed over at the pro exams yet again, he had withdrawn from everyone. But now... he could feel it. He had a chance, and he would win.
"I want to see this Waya guy that you like so much." Isumi nearly choked on his coffee.
"What? Waya? I never even talk about him, except that he looks like Le Ping's older brother!"
"Yeah, you never talk about him at all. So I know you like him. That, and the way you keep looking at Le Ping!" Isumi grew red. That comment about Le Ping was completely and totally off. Waya was much taller and better looking.
"What kind of logic is that?!" Yang Hai grinned, crushing his coffee can against the desk and pulling a few cans of beer from a drawer. He tossed one to Isumi, who frowned.
"Okay, then, Isumi Shinichiro. Tell me that you don't have any feelings at all for Waya. If you can say that, I'll stop teasing you. And I'll take out the trash." Isumi suddenly opened his beer and took a long drink, trying to ignore the sour taste. His hair was already glued to his head with sweat, so he pushed it out of his eyes.
"I... I... I'll take out the trash." Yang Hai made whooping noises as Isumi slung the trash bag over his shoulder, masking his sudden surge of glee with a defeated expression. That was the first time he had really admitted it, outside of daydreams.
He was in love with Waya. Dragging the trash bag down the hallway of the Chinese Go Institute, he tightened his fist. It's the birth of a new Isumi, he thought as he pressed the elevator button perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary. The dumpsters were outside on the ground floor. No matter how much Yang Hai teased, his feeling would not change. By tomorrow afternoon, he would be staring Waya in the face once again and would finally be able to say...
Isumi tossed the trash bag into the dumpster and threw the lid down with a dull metallic sound. It was fine to think like this now, in a back alley in a foreign country where no one, especially Waya, would ever have to know. If Waya could see into his mind, would he be shocked? Maybe even revolted, to think that the friend he had supported had been harboring such thoughts?
Isumi returned to the elevator, but didn't feel like going anywhere. He allowed his body to slide against the cool metal until he was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around himself even though the summer air was sticky. In the end, he was only Isumi - shy, nervous, easily forgotten. The elevator doors closed and the car began to go up, but he didn't even care. Everyone at the Chinese Go Institute thought he was just a crazy foreigner anyway, so even the sight of him crying in an empty elevator probably wouldn't turn many heads.
Luckily, the long hair that his teachers had always wanted him to cut provided a little shelter for eyes that were already swollen. He had just about as much chance of getting Waya to love him as he did passing the pro exam. None. The elevator doors slid open, but Isumi didn't even bother to look up.
"Isumi? Damn, you take forever... are you hurt or something? I'll go get somebody... wait, are you crying?" It was Yang Hai's voice, so Isumi kept his head down.
"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just..."
"Tell me what's wrong!" demanded Yang Hai, uncharacteristically serious. "Damn it, Isumi, I..."
"It's Waya. You were right." Yang Hai's face softened, and he mussed Isumi's hair with one hand.
"Well then it's easy! You tell him how you feel, and everything works out in the end." The Chinese boy kneeled next to Isumi, trying to see past the curtain of hair.
"What if he doesn't feel the same way? How the hell do you tell a guy that you're in love with him? Isumi's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Why do I always feel like I'm behind in everything? Behind in the pro exam, behind in school, and very behind in this love stuff. What am I supposed to say?" He was almost pleading, now, to whatever gods could hear him as he sat motionless in an elevator shaft.
"I don't know. Maybe what you say isn't important." Yang Hai closed the distance between their mouths with the ease of someone who had done it before. Isumi didn't even know how to respond, or if he should. And if it were Waya kissing him, what would he do? Yang Hai broke it off before he had even managed to get his mind working again. "And then, if he doesn't feel the same way about you, you just smile, and pretend it was another of your stupid jokes." Yang Hai stood up quickly, the lower half of his face twisted into a wide grin with the other half looking like it belonged to someone else.
"Yang Hai, I..."
"I'll see you off at the airport tomorrow. Make sure to email me all about Waya, okay?" With quick, shuffling steps, he almost ran back to his room. Isumi stood up slowly.
Yang Hai... Waya... why was he always a few steps behind everyone else? He slowly walked back towards Yang Hai's room, tracing the carpet pattern with his eyes. The kiss had been so warm, and Yang Hai's breath on his face had been quick and shallow. But Isumi resolved to not think about the "whys" of his situation. Somehow, things had to work out. There was a reason for his failing the pro exam, and there was a reason for falling in love with Waya.
He entered the room quietly since all the lights were dark. He could make out Yang Hai's form on the bed, stiffly still in feigned sleep. He... didn't feel the same way, maybe. But before pulling the bed sheets over his head, he whispered:
"Thank you."
Useful Japanese Section!
Un - informal "yeah"
"Mine."
"Yours."
"Definitely yours."
"What is that?" Yang Hai and Isumi gingerly opened a container bearing the logo of a nearby carryout restaurant and immediately wished they hadn't. Last week's curry was now rather furry looking. A growing pile of socks, computer supplies, X-rated manga and T-shirts in varying states of putrefaction was accumulating in the center of the room as the two cleared out under the beds. Anything that didn't smell too terrible went into Isumi's bag, since he would be leaving China the next morning.
"I can't believe we made this much of a mess in just a few weeks!" exclaimed Isumi, shoving the half-eaten curry into a plastic bag.
"Well, most of it is mine..." admitted Yang Hai. "I mean, I'm not the kind of guy that would use your leaving as an excuse to get some help in cleaning my room, right?" Isumi laughed, throwing the trash bag to his Chinese friend.
"Then you can get rid of this stuff before it starts evolving!" Sighing, he leaned back against the bed. "I think that's everything... who knew cleaning could be so tiring?!"
"That's why I avoid it whenever possible!" Yang Hai typed a few short email responses on his laptop while Isumi cracked open two cans of coffee. "So, you'll stay in touch? You've got my email address and chat handle, right?" Isumi nodded, even though his computer skills were a bit lacking. Half the time he had no idea what Yang Hai was talking about.
"Un. We'll definitely meet again, as pros."
"Yeah, but China will kick your ass!"
"Don't say that until you win!" Isumi grinned, both at the thought of winning pro tournaments and the realization that some part of himself had returned. Ever since being passed over at the pro exams yet again, he had withdrawn from everyone. But now... he could feel it. He had a chance, and he would win.
"I want to see this Waya guy that you like so much." Isumi nearly choked on his coffee.
"What? Waya? I never even talk about him, except that he looks like Le Ping's older brother!"
"Yeah, you never talk about him at all. So I know you like him. That, and the way you keep looking at Le Ping!" Isumi grew red. That comment about Le Ping was completely and totally off. Waya was much taller and better looking.
"What kind of logic is that?!" Yang Hai grinned, crushing his coffee can against the desk and pulling a few cans of beer from a drawer. He tossed one to Isumi, who frowned.
"Okay, then, Isumi Shinichiro. Tell me that you don't have any feelings at all for Waya. If you can say that, I'll stop teasing you. And I'll take out the trash." Isumi suddenly opened his beer and took a long drink, trying to ignore the sour taste. His hair was already glued to his head with sweat, so he pushed it out of his eyes.
"I... I... I'll take out the trash." Yang Hai made whooping noises as Isumi slung the trash bag over his shoulder, masking his sudden surge of glee with a defeated expression. That was the first time he had really admitted it, outside of daydreams.
He was in love with Waya. Dragging the trash bag down the hallway of the Chinese Go Institute, he tightened his fist. It's the birth of a new Isumi, he thought as he pressed the elevator button perhaps a little more forcefully than necessary. The dumpsters were outside on the ground floor. No matter how much Yang Hai teased, his feeling would not change. By tomorrow afternoon, he would be staring Waya in the face once again and would finally be able to say...
Isumi tossed the trash bag into the dumpster and threw the lid down with a dull metallic sound. It was fine to think like this now, in a back alley in a foreign country where no one, especially Waya, would ever have to know. If Waya could see into his mind, would he be shocked? Maybe even revolted, to think that the friend he had supported had been harboring such thoughts?
Isumi returned to the elevator, but didn't feel like going anywhere. He allowed his body to slide against the cool metal until he was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around himself even though the summer air was sticky. In the end, he was only Isumi - shy, nervous, easily forgotten. The elevator doors closed and the car began to go up, but he didn't even care. Everyone at the Chinese Go Institute thought he was just a crazy foreigner anyway, so even the sight of him crying in an empty elevator probably wouldn't turn many heads.
Luckily, the long hair that his teachers had always wanted him to cut provided a little shelter for eyes that were already swollen. He had just about as much chance of getting Waya to love him as he did passing the pro exam. None. The elevator doors slid open, but Isumi didn't even bother to look up.
"Isumi? Damn, you take forever... are you hurt or something? I'll go get somebody... wait, are you crying?" It was Yang Hai's voice, so Isumi kept his head down.
"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just..."
"Tell me what's wrong!" demanded Yang Hai, uncharacteristically serious. "Damn it, Isumi, I..."
"It's Waya. You were right." Yang Hai's face softened, and he mussed Isumi's hair with one hand.
"Well then it's easy! You tell him how you feel, and everything works out in the end." The Chinese boy kneeled next to Isumi, trying to see past the curtain of hair.
"What if he doesn't feel the same way? How the hell do you tell a guy that you're in love with him? Isumi's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Why do I always feel like I'm behind in everything? Behind in the pro exam, behind in school, and very behind in this love stuff. What am I supposed to say?" He was almost pleading, now, to whatever gods could hear him as he sat motionless in an elevator shaft.
"I don't know. Maybe what you say isn't important." Yang Hai closed the distance between their mouths with the ease of someone who had done it before. Isumi didn't even know how to respond, or if he should. And if it were Waya kissing him, what would he do? Yang Hai broke it off before he had even managed to get his mind working again. "And then, if he doesn't feel the same way about you, you just smile, and pretend it was another of your stupid jokes." Yang Hai stood up quickly, the lower half of his face twisted into a wide grin with the other half looking like it belonged to someone else.
"Yang Hai, I..."
"I'll see you off at the airport tomorrow. Make sure to email me all about Waya, okay?" With quick, shuffling steps, he almost ran back to his room. Isumi stood up slowly.
Yang Hai... Waya... why was he always a few steps behind everyone else? He slowly walked back towards Yang Hai's room, tracing the carpet pattern with his eyes. The kiss had been so warm, and Yang Hai's breath on his face had been quick and shallow. But Isumi resolved to not think about the "whys" of his situation. Somehow, things had to work out. There was a reason for his failing the pro exam, and there was a reason for falling in love with Waya.
He entered the room quietly since all the lights were dark. He could make out Yang Hai's form on the bed, stiffly still in feigned sleep. He... didn't feel the same way, maybe. But before pulling the bed sheets over his head, he whispered:
"Thank you."
Useful Japanese Section!
Un - informal "yeah"