Disclaimer: All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.
Notes: Exams are over~!! ^_____^ Month-long break coming up so back to concentrating on this fic. As always, thanks to all the readers and especially the reviewers!!
Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"
by Shikami Yamino
Part 8 - A Company of Two
As the sun set over the horizon, Hikaru knuckled his eyes and waited for them to refocus properly. Slumping back onto his hands in his sitting position, he stared up at the ceiling and sighed. There was only so much game recreation he could stand to do in a day, especially when he wasn't concentrating.
Touya's sleep hadn't been very peaceful, broken by restless tossing and turning. This prompted regular glances towards the bed to ensure that the dark haired go pro hadn't kicked off his blankets in the process. There were also frequent trips to the bed and water basin to keep the towel on Akira's forehead cool and in place. And while Akira's fever had receded somewhat, it still hadn't done so enough for Hikaru's peace of mind.
All in all, the last few hours spent at the goban had been pretty unproductive. Even working through a book of Shuusaku's kifu that he had found on Akira's bookshelf hadn't kept his attention for very long.
He cast a last look over the black and white stones on the goban before gathering and dropping them into their respective go-ke. The long accustomed movements were, as always, casual and proficient. Never once did they hint at the annoyance that revealed itself only in Hikaru's green eyes.
He could have been at the go salons today, playing Waya and Isumi-san and Touya and all the other go salon regulars. Maybe they could've even squeezed in a game of pair go over Waya's protests since Hikaru and Touya had yet to be defeated in the friendly games they had played with fellow young pros. Instead, Touya was sick, and he himself had spent the afternoon with only a goban and a book of kifu for company. On top of that, he was sure that the next time he showed his face around the go salons, Kawai-san would give him an earful about not visiting often enough. It would come complete with the hair ruffle that Kawai-san hadn't stopped inflicting on him even though he was already nineteen. All because some silly girl had forgotten her umbrella.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that, at this moment in time, Shindou Hikaru was not a happy camper.
His stomach growled.
Make that an unhappy and hungry camper.
Hikaru ran a hand through his bleached bangs, smiling sheepishly to himself. Come to think of it, it was already dinner time and he hadn't even had lunch yet. Touya was probably hungry as well since it didn't look like he'd had anything to eat either.
Dragging himself to the kitchenette, Hikaru began rummaging for edible substances of the instant variety, the fridge being readily foregone in favor of the cupboards. Given that most things in the fridge probably required just a little more than the most basic culinary skills, such as boiling water, he figured it was better not to flirt with danger. He didn't think Touya would appreciate him trying to set his kitchen on fire.
Hikaru scanned the rows of condiments and packages, eyes finally lighting up when he caught sight of the instant ramen bowls and soup packets. From experience, his mother had always brought him soup whenever he was sick and didn't have an appetite. Of course, his mother's soup had always been home-made, but Touya was obviously out of luck in that department.
Mind made up, he grabbed a ramen bowl for himself and selected a chicken noodle soup for his rival. He nudged the cupboard door closed with his hip, eyeing the directions on the back of the soup packet with a bit of suspicion. That Touya had bought instant soup was surprising enough, it was too much to hope for that his dark-haired rival would have picked an instant-instant powder soup. As it was, this one required the addition of fresh vegetables pieces but all in all didn't seem too bad. He hoped.
As per the instructions, he went to Touya's fridge and pulled out some spinach and mushrooms. The washing and slicing process fortunately went off without a hitch.
"Four cups water... saucepan... bring to boil... lower heat... add contents... stir..." Hikaru muttered to himself, determined to follow the instructions to the letter.
It was only when the soup was happily simmering on the stove that Hikaru ran into a dead end. "Add vegetables and simmer until cooked. Don't overcook." He drew a blank. What was cooked, and what was overcooked? How could you tell? Was it when they went limp? Or was that overcooked? But they couldn't be as stiff as they were when they were raw right? So somewhere between not stiff and too limp? But that didn't tell him anything!
Feeling completely out of his element, Hikaru hesitantly dropped the vegetable pieces into the saucepan. It looked like he'd be sticking with the instant foods for a while longer; cooking was almost more stressful than playing a tough opponent at go. Cautiously, he poked the vegetables with the ladle as someone would a dangerous weapon. Still seemed stiff...
The loud ringing of the phone startled him out of his wary regard of the vegetables. Not wanting the sound to wake Touya up, he sprinted for the receiver.
"Hello?" He said distractedly, eyes fixated on the saucepan across the living room in the kitchenette. Given his luck, he was almost convinced that the soup would somehow find a way to self-destruct, and take Touya's kitchen with it, while he was away.
"Ummm... hello... This is Nakamura," came a girl's voice over the handset. "I was wondering if I could speak with Touya-san...?"
Hikaru could feel the irritation come on again; here was the root of all his problems today. Shifting his eyes, he turned to fix the innocent wall with an accusing glare. "Why?"
"Oh, well I wanted to apologise... for leaving early last night."
Hikaru rolled his eyes. "I'll pass it on. He's sick so he can't come to the phone."
"Is he all right??" the girl sounded upset. "He seemed fine last night..."
"He got drenched coming home," Hikaru replied abruptly as an appetizing smell assaulted his nose. Recognising it, his eyes widened. The soup!!
"Sorry, I gotta go!!" he said in a rush and hung up, not noticing that he had cut the girl off mid-apology.
Rushing back into the kitchenette, Hikaru hurriedly switched the burner off and stared anxiously at the soup. It looked okay... He sniffed at the steam rising out of the saucepan. And there didn't seem to be a burnt smell in the air... Warily, he poked the vegetables again. The mushrooms were a bit limp, but the spinach managed to pass the test of 'somewhere between too stiff and not limp'.
Breathing a small sigh of relief, he ladled out a little of the soup onto a dish and took a tentative sip, face scrunched up and prepared for the worst. Swallowing, he slowly eased an eye open. It didn't taste that bad. Finishing the portion on the dish, a delighted smile flashed across his face. It actually tasted pretty good.
Hikaru put the kettle on for his instant ramen and ladled out a bowl of the soup for his rival, good nature restored. Touya would just have to put up with the limp vegetables. At least the soup tasted good.
When everything was ready on a tray, he took it into Touya's room, setting it on the nightstand. Perching himself on the edge of the bed again, he took the towel off his friend's forehead and laid his hand there for a moment. The fever was still there, but it had dropped enough that the towel was no longer needed. He dropped it into the basin and returned it to the bathroom. When he came back, he reached out to shake his rival.
"Touya. Touya wake up."
Groggily, Akira opened his eyes and blinked at the familiar face hovering above his own. As the sequence of events slowly came back to him, he was able to give a small nod to Shindou's question about whether he felt better. "You've been here all day...?" He asked his own question in a whisper.
Hikaru shrugged, glad that Touya seemed recovered enough to talk. "It was only a few hours. I kept myself busy with your book on Shuusaku's kifu," he returned in a low murmur. "You feel up to eating something? I doubt you've had anything since last night."
Registering the smell of food, Akira glanced at the tray on his nightstand. The instant ramen was obviously Shindou's and he absently gave himself a pat on the back for picking it up on his last shopping trip. However, the innocent looking bowl next to it, clearly meant to be his own dinner, brought a mildly apprehensive look to his face. Catching Hikaru's eyes, he asked half jokingly, "Is my kitchen destroyed?"
Hikaru blinked at the seeming non sequitur before scowling. "No, your kitchen is not destroyed. It was instant! So much for gratitude."
Despite his lack of appetite, Akira let his rival help him sit up and place the tray with the soup in his lap without protest. He smiled faintly as Shindou grumbled about his kitchen comment all the way through the process.
Picking up his own chopsticks and ramen bowl off the tray, Hikaru fixed Akira with a stern look. "Eat that!" he commanded, gesturing at the soup with the tips of his chopsticks. Correctly interpreting the look on Touya's face, he added, "Even if you don't feel like it, you still need to eat something! And since I went to the trouble of making it for you, you'd better appreciate it!" Glaring until Touya had picked up both spoon and bowl, Hikaru then proceeded to dig into his own dinner.
Akira pushed his spoon around in the soup for a while, watching Shindou devour his ramen, before taking a cautious first sip. Pleasantly surprised by the delicious taste, Akira raised another spoonful to his lips. "It's good. Even if it is instant."
Distracted from his meal, Hikaru glanced at Touya out of the corner of his eye. Catching the mildly smug grin on his rival's face, he couldn't help but let the corners of his own lips quirk upwards. Trust Touya to throw his own words back at him given half the chance. Swallowing a mouthful of ramen, he rolled his eyes in feigned irritation in spite of the merry twinkle displayed in them. "Of all the people I know, only you would buy instant stuff that still required cooking!"
Akira lifted an eyebrow. "That's because I don't run the risk of burning down the apartment every time I cook them. Unlike some people I know." Watching his rival bristle, he hid an amused grin behind the rim of his bowl, finishing up his soup.
"That's it!" Hikaru narrowed his eyes at Akira as he collected the utensils and empty bowls from their dinner. "See if I ever cook for you again!"
Laughing inwardly, Akira watched Hikaru indignantly storm his way out the bedroom door, dishes in hand. In truth, he did feel slightly better for having something in his stomach. And the soup had actually been pretty good. Being sick somehow didn't seem so bad when there was someone around.
Admittedly, if it had been anyone but Shindou, Akira probably would have insisted that they not trouble themselves taking care of him; that he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. Yet with Shindou, it was simply better not to waste his breath. Knowing his rival as he did, Shindou would never give up what he wanted, even if he had to tread on a few toes to get it.
"Ungrateful jerk," Hikaru muttered upon re-entering the room with a glass of water.
Akira huffed. "Pyromaniac."
Hikaru had the good graces to redden before shooting back, "Drowned rat."
"Mother hen," Akira retorted, aiming a mild glare at his rival.
"Hey! I'm the one doing you a favor here!" Hikaru replied hotly, sending Akira a glare of his own. "Stupid!" he added on for good measure.
"I am not stupid!"
The two young go pros remained in position for a few moments, gazes locked in a stare-down. At last, Hikaru couldn't hold back a wide grin and at Akira's answering shake of his head in amusement, dissolved into quiet laughter.
Walking the rest of the way over to the bed, Hikaru handed over the glass of water, smile still in place. Shaking out a few more pills from the bottles on the nightstand, he passed those to Akira as well. "Take those and get some more sleep. Hopefully you'll be okay by morning."
Obediently, Akira downed the pills and settled back into the bed. "Are you going home?"
Hikaru shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'll get the dishes done first though." Inwardly, he was rolling his eyes; Touya was a demon about not letting dirty dishes stand in the sink. Returning his attention to the sick boy in the bed, he asked, "You gonna be okay on your own?"
Squashing an irrational feeling of uneasiness, Akira nodded. "I'll be fine."
Hikaru aimed a probing gaze at his rival. "You're sure?"
"Positive."
At the more definite-sounding answer, Hikaru dipped his head in acceptance. "Okay. I'll wait until you're asleep though."
With that, he made for the door and was just about to step out when he turned back with an impish grin. "Immature idiot."
"Absent-minded brat!" Akira directed his words through the doorway at Hikaru's back and was rewarded with the bleached-blonde pro's carefree laughter.
Smiling in response, Akira let his eyes drift shut and fell asleep to the sound of running water and his rival's occasional chuckles.
~~
Dishes washed and put away, Hikaru gave a big yawn as he stretched. It had been a tiring day and it was probably time to get to bed and sleep. Padding across the living room, he stuck his head into Akira's bedroom and was satisfied to see his rival sleeping quietly.
As he prepared to head for the front door to leave, the image of that fleeting look that had crossed Touya's face when he'd been asked if he'd be okay on his own, came back to him. Pausing mid-step, he wrinkled his brow in thought.
The expression had been too short-lived to be deciphered properly. But knowing Touya, the dark-haired boy would probably still insist that he'd be okay even when he was about to get a limb amputated or something. It was just the kind of person Touya Akira was, outside of anything relating to go: polite, unassuming and reluctant to cause anyone else inconvenience.
Rolling his eyes in gentle exasperation and suppressing another yawn, Hikaru made his way back into his rival's bedroom where he proceeded to drag the goban over next to the bed for the second time that day. He'd stay for a while longer, and make sure that Touya was going to be okay.
Sitting with his back leaning against the side of Touya's bed, he picked up the book of Shuusaku's kifu and once again absorbed himself in it. But it wasn't long before the day's activities and worries overcame the young pro, letting the book fall to his chest with his fingers still marking the pages. A small black stone dropped almost noiselessly to the floor from the limp fingers of Hikaru's right hand, now splayed at his side.
So it was like this that two go pros spent the night. One in the bed, warm under a mountain of blankets, the other leaning against the bed with his head drooping gently onto his chest. Together with a goban on which vague shapes of black and white were scattered, and a book of Shuusaku's kifu, they waited patiently for the dawning of a new day.
End Part 8... to be continued.
Author's Notes: Well... at least the kitchen still exists to be destroyed another day *LOL* Another dose of fluffiness down and one more to go ^_^ Coming up: the scene that spawned the fic!! *wide grin*