Akira huffed, a bead of sweat trailing down his forehead. "H-Hikaru," with his bare arm he wiped his forehead, tired, running low on breath. "I-It's not working, Hikaru," he breathed to me softly. "I-I can't do it."

"Just a bit more, Akira, p-please..." I answered breathlessly.

Akira pushed harder, straining his lungs and ended up letting go. "Why...Why isn't it working..."

"Akira, It's okay... I-I don't think it's ever gonna work. Y-You can just go with a wrinkly shirt."

"No!" He slammed down the iron. "I'm not gonna meet your dad in a wrinkly shirt! That's... That is just insane!"

"Then wear a not-wrinkly shirt! We're gonna be late! And it's hot as hell in your laundry room!"

Akira sighed and unplugged the iron. "Fine," He stretched as he walked toward the door, giving me a perfect view of his bare back. Which looked very nice, to say the least. I followed him to his bedroom where he looked through his drawers and closet for something he could wear.

He pulled out a pale pink button up. "Is this good?"

I examined it. "If you're going for the 'Hey, I'm bangin' your son' look."

"Perfect!" He slipped it around his shoulders. I laughed a little as he started buttoning it.

"I'll show you where his house is. He wants us there around 11:00."

He looked at his clock. "Shit, how long does it take to get there?"

I stratched my head. "Well, it's about 50 minutes from my house.."

"And your house is 40 from mine." Akira threw in, slipping on his shoes.

"So about ten minutes?" I concluded. I fixed the collar on my shirt, realizing how long exactly it's been since I've seen my dad. A pretty long time. I used to visit him a lot, but since I've gotten into go it's been less and less. I took a peek at Akira's calander. "What's the date?" I asked him.

"The 13th," he finished buttoning, laughing. "Friday the 13th."

"Oh, no. That's a bad sign, isn't it?" I stratched my head. "Hey, when's your birthday? Isn't it sometime this month?" I asked, since it was December. I was pretty sure it was this month. I kinda hoped it was, because it'd be really embarrassing if I said it was and it was like July or something.

He nodded. "Uh, yeah. It's on the 14th," he ran his fingers through his hair, his answer nonchalant.

"Huh? Tomorrow?!" I gapped at him. He looked at me and nodded.

"It seems so."

I pouted. "You should've told me sooner! Then I could've gotten you something awesome! Why didn't you tell me before?"

He shrugged and sat down. "Didn't think it was important, really. And I didn't want you to bother with it while the day before we're going to visit your dad."

I frowned. "Akira," I stood up and plopped down next to him. "It is important. We did a ton of stuff for my birthday. And I love you!" I whinned, crawling on to Akira's lap. "We still have like 20 minutes," I grinned.

He rolled his eyes playfully and pecked my lips, laughing a little. "Let's just go. Before you make us late." He pushed me off lightly and stood, taking my hand and pulling me up.

"C'mon! I can make it fast."

"Oh, get real Hikaru. You and I both know how big a lie that is. Even if we were fast, you'd just whine and complain that we should go again." He pulled me up and intertwined our fingers. "After, okay?" He game me an encouraging smile.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fiiiiine. Let's go." I tugged his hand towards the door.

When we arrived, he opened the door before I lifted my hand to knock. My dad never remarried, so he lived alone, besides for my wayyyy older brother who moved out before my parents even split up, so he wouldn't have lived here anyway. I live with my mom and my step dad, who since I see him so much I just call him dad anyway. I honestly think my mother has forgotten that I was conceived with a different man than him at this point. My infrequent visits probably help with that, though. When I was a kid I almost spent all my time with my dad, and I'd nag my mom all the time to go over to his house, which might've made her feel bad. My dad was young at the time, so he'd always play outside with me. Eventually my mom would always push me to play with the daughter of a family a few houses down from our's, who just happened to be Akari, so I wouldn't go over there so much, I guess. But nonetheless me and Akari did become pretty good friends, considering we were the only same aged kids on our entire block, besides for some teenagers, but we were like 7 so we wouldn't have wanted to be around them. Despite my mom's protest she also came to see my dad with me a few times. Everyone always thought I had a thing for Akari. Even Sai said he thought Akari had a crush on me. I never saw it, though. I wonder if Akira thought so. That would probably be a reason he didn't try anything with me earlier.

It had been a pretty long time. My dad had to be nearing 50 by now, and so the bottom of his hair was graying. It was a surprisingly small amount of gray, though, just on the upper back part of his neck and a bit at his roots. The rest was still pretty black. He had a bit of grey subtle of his chin and jaw which he scratched as he greeted me. "Hikaru! How ya been?" He grinned and pulled me into a bear hug.

"Um, I'm good, dad. How about you?" I asked, my voice slightly strangled from lack of oxygen. He pulled back and took a step back, looking at me.

"I'm doin' pretty okay, I'd say. I'm glad you could make it, even with this job of yours that no one will tell me anything about. How old are you again, kiddo? 15?"

"Just turned 16," I corrected briefly. I glanced over at Akira, who was smiling at our close father-and-son-ness. We usually weren't this happy-go-lucky, but it had been quite a while. "Oh, um, dad," I grabbed Akira's arm. "This is my boyfriend, Akira Toya." I tugged him forward a bit, and Akira's acute sense of manners and being polite kicked in and he bowed.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shindo," he said, not too sure about the last name, which he should'nt have been anyway. I never went into much detail about my dad. In fact, up until about a week ago when I told him we were going to meet his dad, he thought my step dad was my dad, and was confused because he had already met him.

"'Name's Sasaki, but it's no problem, kid. Hell, you can call me Ryota if you'd like. We're all family here, right? Assuming you guys don't break up. How long have you been goin' out?" He looked between us.

I gulped. "About six months now, almost seven."

"Oh, damn. Not bad, not bad. And how come you never told you played for the other team, Hikaru? Huh? Oh damn, sorry," he took a step back. "Come on in. I've been running my mouth off, huh?"

I laughed a bit. "It's alright," I walked inside, looking around, when Akira followed at my tail. When we were inside we both took off our shoes quickly. My dad wasn't a very tall guy, and we were actually about the same height, he a bit taller, I would figure. But then, Akira had a good few inches on me, so Akira was taller than both of us.

My dad looked up at him nevertheless. "So, Akira, was it? Kind of a girlish name, don't you think?"

Akira blinked a bit. "N-No, I-"

"No, no, I'm pretty sure," he patted me on the back. "Because one of the names Mitsuko and I were gonna name Hikaru if he was a girl was 'Akira,' so..."

Akira blushed and looked at his feet.

"Dad..." I frowned a bit.

He laughed a bit. "Right, right. I'm sorry. I was just jokin'." He clamped his hand on Akira's shoulder, who damn near flinched. "It's a fine name. Manly. So you guys want some tea?" He asked, leaving the room anyway to go to the kitchen. I grabbed Akira's hand and looked up at him.

"You okay?" I asked quietly.

He blinked up at me and nodded. "Yeah, fine. Your dad sure has a lot to say, huh?" He offered a little laugh.

I smiled. "I guess so." I gave his hand a squeeze and looked up at him, making aimless conversation.

"Hey, what do you think your parents would've named you if you were a girl?"

"Don't have to guess on that," Akira sighed. "Probably Haruka." His eyes got a little dark.

"Why Haruka?" I asked. Akira shrugged.

"Thought it sounded nice, I suppose." He looked up at me with concerned eyes. He said in a quiet voice, "Hey, can I ask you something important?"

I blinked and nodded, saying in a similar tone, "of course."

"Is my shirt wrinkly?" He said it in such a serious tone it would've been the same if he was asking to marry me.

I pushed him playfully and laughed. "Asshole."

He laughed a bit back. "Okay, sorry, sorry."

Before we knew it my dad was back with a tray with tree cups of tea on it. "Come to the livingroom, and I'll fix you guys up some cake, too." He turned and started walking away, to which we followed him, to the livingroom.

The couch wasn't the biggest, and so Akira and I were kinda scrunched together on it, which I enjoyed. There were big piles of paper everywhere, which didn't help with the space on the couch, and I had a feeling Akira's OCD clean freak-ness was starting to kick in right about now. A few minutes later my dad came back with a tray of small pieces of cake, with little toothpicks in then so you could eat it with your hands.

When he caught Akira looking at all the paper, he told him, "I'm a writer, in case you're wondering. That's what all the paper is; various manuscripts," He took a sip of his tea, which led me to do the same.

"A writer? That's interesting," Akira said with a smile. My dad cackled.

"More interesting than a board game, I'd say," he took another sip.

I laughed a little and grabbed a piece of cake. "It's actually a pretty interesting board game, though."

"Must be, if you're dedicating your whole life to it," he took a look at both of us. "Are you good at it?" He asked. He must really know nothing about go.

"Well, yeah. You have to pass a test to become a pro." I said as Akira took a sip of his tea.

"Oh. So you're good at it," he concluded. Rocket science.

"Yeah." I laughed a bit and pushed Akira playfully. "He's better than me, though."

"Not by a lot," he praised me, taking another sip. It really didn't sound like praise, but it was. I always liked it when Akira complimented my go, even if it wasn't anything like No, Hikaru. You're so much better than me, I envy you. But that was the best part; it was realistic praise, which meant he actually believed it. So it made me happy. I was smiling at him and I didn't even notice.

"My goodness, you guy are so gay." My dad laughed a bit. "You compliment each other."

I frowned. "Well, Akira's just a nice gu-"

"No, no, Hikaru. Well, that too." He set his tea down, popping a piece of cake in his mouth. "I mean, well, like colors? Complimentary colors. Your personalities compliment each other." He explained. And that made me flush.

"Y-You think so?" I scratched my head. I glanced over at Akira, who was looking down and sipping his tea. Even through his dark locks of hair I could see his cheeks were a little pink.

My dad laughed a little. "Well, yeah. But that's just my opinion. I haven't seen ya for a long time, Hikaru, and I barley know this guy.."

"Thank you," Akira interjected quietly. He looked up at my father and smiled. "I think so too."

The rest of the evening went one smoothly as we left two hours later. But that part, that really stuck with me. You compliment each other. I thought. In go, you're always black or white. You can't be magenta or blood orange or sharp vermillion. Black and white are just two colors, one absorbing all the waves of light and one bouncing them off, but the other colors are there, just unseen. Within those two simple colors are every other color ever imaginable. So maybe go isn't so black and white after all.