Title: Sequence 3/?
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: future Hikaru/Akira/Hikaru
Disclaimer: Belongs to Hotta Yumi and Obata Takeshi. I'm just writing for fun.
Notes: Yes, apparently everyone is worse than Shindou's mother. Everyone.

Not too proud of this part, except perhaps for the Akari and Akira scene (which is probably sending off more than a few Akira/Akari vibes, but don't worry). It sucks and it ran quite a bit longer than usual. 3000 words or so.

No one else has really looked at this and while I've done two or three run-throughs, I know I've missed stuff. Probably lots of stuff. Take pity on me and point them out if you seem them.

Someone asked me if this was Hikaru/Akira or Akira/Hikaru. It's both.

C&C will be adored and cuddled.

ssssssssss

Shindou had a way of assuming and announcing things that was must abrupt, Yashiro had learned. Such was the case now.

"What time do we leave tomorrow night, Yashiro?" asked Shindou, leaning over the top of the couch, watching the random, inane movie Kiyoharu had put on for background noise. Shindou held a rather sloppily made sandwich wrapped in a paper towel in one hand.

Kiyoharu frowned, "We?" He studied the kifu he was recreating on the goban. White invading in the upper-left corner -

"As in you and I. " He tilted his head, "You know, tomorrow night. Hotel room. Your game the next day."

"I know. My game. When did you invite yourself?" Shindou had not mentioned it to him before.

Taking a bite out of his sandwich, Shindou mumbled, "You mope if you're by yourself. I come with and we can play speed Go and you won't mope."

Kiyoharu was torn between putting up a fight or letting the whole thing go. Shindou's self-invitation was rude, but Kiyoharu remembered his last night in a hotel, waiting for the game he had inevitably lost. Empty and restless sleep. He sighed. Shindou was just doing what he knew best. Being himself. Still, not putting up something of a minor objection would lead to the other boy surely taking ruthless advantage of him later on, even if the smaller young man did it unconsciously. "Don't you have a game the same day as mine?"

Shindou sagged and managed to look disappointed. "Canceled. Family emergency."

"And you decided to tag along."

"Tag along? I'm not tagging along!"

"Right."

"I've never been to the Kansai Institute before." A pitiful look, just like a dog. That was it. Shindou was one of those dogs -- demanding, energetic, and when the situation called for it, pathetic.

At the thought, Kiyoharu tried to stop the upward twitching of his lips. "You can come."

Shindou looked suspicious. "Are you all right? Your face is all funny looking."

"You keep that up and you can sleep on the street." A pause, another considering glance at the kifu. Black's would have seemed useless if he didn't already know the outcome of the game. Clever. "Does Touya know you're coming?"

"He's not my mother." Another bite, Shindou chewed thoughtfully. "We should leave him lots of leftovers, huh?"

"Is that a subtle way of rubbing his face in the fact that you cook better than him?" Shindou's attempt at dinner, well, it hadn't been an attempt. Dinner had been more than decent, some Western dish that Shindou said his mother always cooked. Points to Shindou for not poisoning them.

"No," a devious smile graced Shindou's face and Kiyoharu didn't believe him for a second slightest second.

"You still have to tell Touya." He wasn't sure what was between Shindou and Touya -- and he wasn't sure he wanted to know -- but Touya would be far from pleased if Shindou was to take off without notice. An upset Touya would lead to more arguments and complaints from neighbors. Kiyoharu had already had to apologize to one irritated woman across the next door. What would those two do without him to handle things?

A groan from Shindou., his free hand waving in the air "I know, I know. It's not like I was going to leave and not tell him." A smirk. "He's worse than my mother."

Kiyoharu deigned not to answer. Touya this and Touya that. Sometimes he thought something was seriously wrong with both of them. He placed white's response to black. Not good enough.

"Hey, is that Shuusaku kifu?" Shindou climbed over the top of the couch, crumbs from his sandwich sprinkling over it and the floor.

Of course, leave it to Shindou to spot that. Shindou and Shuusaku, Kiyoharu doubted that he would ever know the connection between the two. He wondered if anyone knew. "Yes," he answered, eyes flickering to the mess Shindou was making, "and you had better clean that up."

"Geez, I will. " Shindou settled across from him, studying the goban. "Your worse than my mother, too."

"Were you this messy at home?"

Some consideration. "No."

"Then no wonder."

Shindou ignored him, pointed to right side of the goban. "Black invades here next, right?"

A glance at the kifu. "Yes. How did you - never mind."

He was coming to the conclusion that things were better left unexplained when it came to Shindou.

ssssssssss

A knock at the door shook Akira from his contemplation of how badly he was going to beat Shindou the next time they played together. And Yashiro. Yashiro had to have played some part in this.

He heaved a sigh and left the open container on the counter to answer the door. He was mildly surprised to see Hikaru's childhood friend standing behind it, her purse hanging from her elbow and a bag in hand. Fujisaki Akari looked startled herself, but gained a grin, her brown eyes shining in the light.. "Touya-kun! Is Hikaru home?"

"Ah, Fujisaki-san. Come in." She was eyeing the space behind him and he backed away from the door, allowing her to come in. She wore a blue dress and Touya wondered if it was for his absent roommate. "Shindou went to the Kansai Go Institute with Yashiro. He won't be back until sometime tomorrow afternoon." If Yashiro's game went well.

She looked mildly disappointed and her grin fell for a second, but she still entered, sliding off her shoes in a neat and orderly manner. "I was just stopping by to drop off some books that I borrowed." And she was walking down the hall, thick hair swishing about her back, displaying a comfort level that Akira found a bit disconcerting. He had been living here for over a week and still found himself at a loss -- living with Yashiro and Shindou was noisier than living with his parents, but after becoming accustomed to it, he found the absence of their voices and movements uncomfortable -- while Fujisaki took it all in pace. Like she already knew her place here. "Doesn't Hikaru have a game tomorrow?"

He followed her. "He said it was canceled."

She nodded -- as if it made all the sense in the world -- and knelt down by the bookshelf placed against the living room wall. Pulling three books from her bag, she began putting them back. Akira caught her glancing about. What was she looking for? "You're by yourself?"

Under her curious gaze, he fought not to fidget. "For tonight."

Finished with her task, Fujisaki rose to her feet and tilted her head. "Have you had dinner yet?" Before he could answer, she was already peeking into the kitchen.

He would not twitch. This was not her home, how could she be so presumptuous -- and then it hit him like a bag of bricks. Fujisaki and Shindou and been friends for so long that it almost had to be natural for her to assume she was welcome to do what she wished in his home. Shindou's home was her home in a manner, Akira supposed. He tried to quiet the twinge of jealousy in his chest.

"What's this?" Fujisaki held the container that Akira had left out on the counter.

He flushed in embarrassment. "Yashiro and Shindou thought leaving ramen as dinner would be suitable." He was determined not to go further into it, having Shindou bring up his lack of cooking skills every hour on the hour was more than enough.

Frowning, she shook her head. "Hikaru . . ." she murmured in an exasperated tone, speaking more to herself than to Akira. She crinkled her nose, paused, and glanced up. "You haven't had dinner?"

"No."

"Ah," she beamed, "then you can come out and have dinner with me!" Then, perhaps realizing what she had just said, she faltered. "That is, if you have nothing else planned for tonight. I dumped my date for the night and I was going to ask Hikaru, but since you haven't eaten, I thought you might want to come." It came out in a nervous rush and she turned her face away from him.

A date? Now Akira noted the pale lipstick and the faint whiff of perfume on her, realized her blue dress had a different purpose than seducing Shindou. And, he thought, maybe the shining in her eyes hadn't been from the lights. "I would enjoy that very much." Fujisaki looked relieved and he gave her a smile. "Was there someplace you had in mind?"

"We had reservations for a restaurant, but it's expensive." Fujisaki tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Any place would be fine."

"Could we make it in time to the restaurant, Fujisaki-san?" While not distraught, Akira sensed that Fujisaki was unsettled now that she had brought her date up. He wondered what Shindou would have done.

"Yes, but -"

"Do you want to go?"

"I - yes."

"Then we'll go." He gently took the ramen container from her hands and placed it back in the kitchen. And then -- because he couldn't not say anything -- he asked, "Your date?"

She bit her lip, blushed. "It was stupid. He was stupid." She tried to laugh lightly, but it sounded forced. "Hikaru's always around even if he doesn't listen and I come to him when something goes wrong, which is silly because we never talk about it, but with him . . . it doesn't matter."

Akira couldn't begin to understand, but he nodded and retrieved his jacket from the closet. "What would have done if no one was here?"

Fujisaki shrugged, "Drop off the books. I might have stayed and cleaned, but it's not so messy with you and Yashiro-kun living here." A true smile came across her face. "Hikaru's so messy."

"I know," Akira replied dryly.

"What do you think they're doing right now?"

He opened the door, gave her a knowing look. "Playing Go."

ssssssssss

The most overwhelming fact of Yashiro living with Hikaru and Touya was that the distance from their apartment to the Kansai Institute was far too long. Too long for Yashiro to go back for tutorials and exhibitions and too long for Yashiro to keep returning every night before a game. Too long to be sane. The second fact was that Hikaru didn't believe the solution would be simple. Far from it.

But he did know something.

The people at the Kansai Institute who know Yashiro knew the former fact. They cared for Yashiro, their own protégée. They apparently didn't know the latter fact.

The evidence had been in his face a moment earlier. Hikaru had taken his time coming down to meet Yashiro in the lobby of the Kansai Institute. Now he wished he had rushed there, because he had been barely in time to see Yashiro walk out the door, pale and trailing in the wake of a stone-faced man, like a ship caught in a tide. Old men -- pros -- had been nodding to themselves, speaking to each other. This is what Yashiro needed. To reconcile with his father. They had to let the man know that his son was there and in good health, hadn't they?

Yashiro's father.

And the day had started out so well. Yashiro had gone to his game, looking more like himself than Hikaru had seen since the fight with his father, and Hikaru had found himself in the Go salon upstairs, being challenged by unfamiliar faces, each wanting to see how well this friend of their Yashiro could play. Lunch had passed and Hikaru had caught a glimpse of Yashiro -- still collected -- before taking on a new challenger.

A nice day filled with Go. Now this.

Damn Yashiro's father.

Why kick Yashiro out of the house and then retrieve him after a game? The question turned Hikaru's stomach, but he didn't muse over it. Yashiro was responsible and he wasn't the type to leave his friend behind, not like this. Not unless something wasn't right.

He dashed out onto the streets, looking for that tall, lanky body with its noticeable hair. He almost missed it, but there Yashiro was, getting further and further away, caught in the crowd.

"Yashiro!" Hikaru yelled, pushing his way through the masses. "Wait! Yashiro! Don't leave!"

Yashiro paused, started turning slowly as if it took a great effort. His father gripped him by the elbow, trying to keep him moving, but Hikaru was close enough now and he lunged, caught the sleeve of Yashiro's free arm.

"What are you doing?" he asked, feeling the turmoil in his stomach die down slightly. "Where are you going?"

Yashiro started to reply, "Shindou, I-"

"What do you think you're doing with my son?" Yashiro's father's voice was harsh and he towered over Hikaru. But almost everyone towered over Hikaru, so the intimidation was lost on him.

"What are you doing with my friend?" Someone was wrong in their actions and Hikaru was positive that he was the one in the right.

The man bristled. "It's none of your business."

"Father-"

"Yes, it is!"

"You're one of his go-playing friends, aren't you? That useless game. It'll get him nowhere." The man spat out the words. "He deserves a future and he's coming home and going back to school. He's going to forget this nonsense and get a real job, aren't you, Kiyoharu?"

But Yashiro was silent. Loud, confident Yashiro was silent and as still as a statue. Frozen. How cruel could Yashiro's father be? A crowd was gathering around their confrontation, their faces blurring and their muttering white noise in Hikaru's ears. They were just a backdrop. They didn't matter.

"He's - He-" and suddenly Hikaru wasn't sure he could keep fighting, not with Yashiro the way he was. Did it matter now? His fingers loosened their grip on Yashiro's sleeve. "Why can't you accept what he wants to do? He's good. He could be a top player if you let him. It's his dream."

Yashiro's father scoffed at him. "That dream will get him nowhere. Following it is about as useful as trying to catch a ghost. I know what's best for my son and you should mind your own business. Kiyoharu, we're leaving," and he tugged his son forward.

Ghost. Sai. Sai wouldn't have let it end like this.

Hikaru wasn't going to let it end like this. "You can't do this," he cried, grabbing the man's arm. "This isn't what's best for him."

Yashiro's father growled, "Let go," and he swung his arm out, pushing Hikaru away. Hikaru stumbled backwards, twisted and landed ungracefully on his hands and knees. Pain flared up through his arms and legs and he hissed, his muscles rebelling against movement for the moment. He heard a general outcry, the mutter of concerned voices and a gentle touch on his shoulder. Of course, the bystanders.

"I'm fine," he forced out. "Fine."

"Out of the way!" Yashiro was suddenly kneeling next to him. "Shindou?"

"Just scraped, I think." Hikaru settled back on his legs, trying to ignore the brief bursts of pain from his knees. His hands were covered in blood and dirt, raw. "It's all right."

"He'll be fine, Kiyoharu. It's time to go." Yashiro's father, again. Why was that man so controlling?

Yashiro stiffened, Hikaru could feel it in the way his friend's fingers tightened on his shoulder. "Father." He faltered, breathed in deeply. "Father, I'm not coming back."

"What?"

Quivering, Yashiro's words were forced. "I'll get my things when you aren't home."

"You can't be serious!" The dismayed cry of an disbelieving man.

"Go away," Yashiro said. "You hurt my friend. Go away."

"You're not thinking this through-"

"Yes, I am!" A tense silence followed and Hikaru looked up to see Yashiro's father quivering in rage, his face tinged red.

"Have it your way, then." he finally forced out. "I was willing to give you a second chance, but now you're on your own. Don't come to me expecting help when you come to your senses." He walked away, a man too stiff with pride to look back and, Hikaru thought, one likely never to take back his words. Poor Yashiro, but his father was the real fool.

And that was that.

ssssssssss

"I'm sorry."

He had to be tired and sore, but Shindou still found the energy to give Kiyoharu a glare. "What are you talking about?"

Kiyoharu didn't answer, merely glanced at Shindou's bandaged hands and felt the rock situated in his stomach grow. Unnoticeable beneath his jeans, Shindou's knees were wrapped in gauze and one of them featured a deep enough cut to require eight stitches.

Shindou looked prepared to punch him. "It's not your fault."

"It was my father-"

"Your father! Not you, so stop being stupid." Shindou shifted in his seat, grimacing. "Don't be stupid and blame yourself for what he did. Anything he did."

Kiyoharu kept his silence once more, but nodded and Shindou seemed to let the matter drop.

"I don't like these painkillers," Shindou groaned, referring to the pills the hospital had prescribed him, "my stomach feels all queasy. An' I'm tired."

His worries suddenly forgotten in the larger worry that Shindou might throw up on him, Kiyoharu eyed his friend nervously before realizing what was wrong. "You didn't eat anything before taking them, did you?"

"No," Shindou replied, miserable looking and his eyes glazing over. The doctor had said that the pain meds might knock him out.

"That's why." Kiyoharu dug out a granola bar from his pack and handed it to Shindou. "Eat this before you fall asleep, it should settle your stomach."

"Thanks," Shindou took the granola bar from him and struggled with opening it, wincing while he forced fingers that had to be aching to open it. Kiyoharu stifled another apology within him, but Shindou caught him staring again, and wiggled his fingers in front of Kiyoharu's face. "It's going to be interesting playing like this."

Kiyoharu looked away. "Good luck."

The rustle of a wrapper and chewing sounds announced that Shindou was working his way through the granola bar. "Oy, Yashiro?"

"Yes?"

"How did your game go?"

Kiyoharu blinked, realized that he hadn't had the chance to tell Shindou the results. "I won. It wasn't pretty," he smiled, "but I won."

"Good." Shindou stated with a yawn.

Kiyoharu studied the seat in front of him in the silence that followed, before turning his gaze back to his friend. Shindou was dozing off, his eyes half-lidded and his head nodding forward. In this boy, Kiyoharu had found more support with his choice to play Go in one week than he had ever received from his family. Touya had been there, too, silently challenging him to rise once more to their level and daring him to go further. He remembered telling someone that he wasn't playing to win for the Kansai Go Institute, but that he was playing for himself.

Where he played and who he played for had never mattered to him. He had wanted recognition and for so long he had struggled to find it within his parents, but that was a hope shattered. Now he had to play for himself alone. And for those who waited for him.

The institute at which he played didn't matter.

"Shindou?"

"Hmm?" he answered, half-asleep.

Kiyoharu asked, "Is it all right with you and Touya if I permanently move in?"

"Huh?" Shindou raised a hand to rub at his eyes, before he winced and placed it back in his lap. His green eyes were wide. "Of course. But why?"

"I'm going to transfer." Funny, how those words made him feel like he was jumping off a cliff. "I won't come back here anymore."