when is the right time for anything? who knows? living is an art, not a science.

[protential]

[Usually, washing a bunch of Go stones is one of the most soothing, heart-settling things Hikaru can do. It's very slow, repetitive, and gentle all around, because he's trying hard not to chip the edges or anything. The water is set to a tepid warmth, too, like a stretch of bathwater he could fall asleep in. And the mild detergent he's using is just that: mild, inoffensive, generally pleasant to the senses. Usually, Hikaru can enter a sort of trance when he's doing this sort of thing, transferring the stones from bowls to the water to the line of drying containers. Washing away a week's worth of oil and germs from the salon patrons isn't as gross as it sounds. It's relaxing. Or, it's supposed to be relaxing. It's why he volunteered to do this over the weekend, and it's even better to have Touya here with him, helping him out. He really needs the chance to relax after being told he has to go through the team qualifiers all over again. He's still pretty pissed off about that, about his official record not speaking for itself, but that's less of an issue than, uh...

Touya has been in such a good mood all week. Literally, all week. It's making Hikaru kind of jealous, honestly, at this point. Touya has no idea that the wheels of fate have been set in motion, that certain deadlines loom large over everything--he has no fucking idea. Earlier, he was smiling when he mentioned offhandedly--obliviously, more like--that his parents were leaving the country again rather soon, so Hikaru would be able to come over and stay with him again. He went on to say, still smiling, that his father said to remind Hikaru that he agreed to play him again before they had to leave. And Hikaru almost protested--he didn't agree to anything--before realizing what that actually meant. The next game is the end of the line, bright red and uncompromising. Touya's dad is expecting to hear some results, sooner rather than later; he wants these loose ends tied up before he jets off to wherever the hell. God damn it, Hikaru thinks, why can't anyone see the amount of stress he's under right now? Why can't this wait until after the Hokuto Cup is over?! The qualifiers, at the very least...

Hikaru bites his bottom lip and glances over Touya, whose elbow just nudged against his own--then he looks back down into the soapy, soupy mixture he has his hands sunk into. As far as utility closets go, this one is much more spacious than not, so they don't need to be standing as close together as they are right now. In the last week, he's really noticed how much Touya tends to gravitate toward him, no matter what's going on. He doesn't mind it. He likes it, even. And he'd be content to let orbital gravity proceed at its own pace, if not for this intractable deadline.]

Hey, Touya...

[There's something we have to talk about. He rehearsed it several times this morning, trying to find the right balance between speed, pitch, cadence, and so on. He doesn't want to freak Touya out before he gets to the point, so...

...

...

..............]

So, I was thinking, that, uh...

[ffffuuuuuck]

Comments

[ashlar]

[It just feels nice. With Akira's hands breaching comfortable water, finding smooth stones, sifting through them with his fingers—the polishing motions of his thumbs—the shifting of his own clothing, and the shifting of Shindou's, too—one brush, another brush, contact more than incidental and wonderfully allowed to be. The light in the utility closet is a clinical glare, and it buzzes from above, but Akira has still found soft air in here. There's the tickle of soap suds at Akira's wrists, up toward his forearms, and the tickle of his hair against his chin while he tilts his head forward to focus on his task. There's the tickle in the back of his throat for something eager, like he's waiting for a certain moment to arrive, and there's also the tickle somewhere around his sternum when he thinks about his father, and about Shindou, and about his father respecting Shindou enough to request his presence across a goban. It just feels nice. Nearness, sharing air inside this room, and his father's acknowledgement of Shindou's potential. This is well in ways Akira had not even known he'd wanted.

The sway in Shindou's voice is, for now, taken as no more than what aligns with the rippling water they share. The next stone Akira takes is one from beneath Shindou's hand. He says,] Mmhmm? [It's mild, like the detergent, maybe uncommonly so... the melt of his voice is a bit beyond tepid, even if it flows around like this water. But Shindou's voice comes back more haltingly, and Akira looks up from the familiar, soft clinking of stones meeting stones.]

What is it?

[He doesn't ask like even wondering is giving him a headache. No pulse rushing hard in his ears, it seems, if the softness from his throat is any gentle indication. In fact, he dips his head to the side, lips in a lovely, quiet curve, left full, no pinch to them, and he bumps his shoulder against Shindou's, playful about it.] What's up? Shindou, if you're going to be ridiculous, just do it. I'm used to that much.

[That's fondness. It has to be. Akira sounds like he's grateful to be used to that. Like he's comforted by it. He palms some more stones, but simply shifts them from hand to hand, beneath the water, while he keeps that smile aimed at Shindou. Shindou, with him, near him, toward him, coming back to him time and time again. No hiding, and no holing up away from outreach. They've met at the salon most days this past week. A few times, they've gone elsewhere afterward. Akira visited Shindou's house again, on one of those days. On another, they actually met up beforehand, and came to the salon together. That was the day Ichikawa-san couldn't stop sighing great sighs that seemed laden with some sort of sympathy. Maybe something had happened with a friend, or a TV drama she kept up with, or... he hadn't stayed to ask. He and Shindou went to buy soft pretzels, because Akira had wanted to visit a shop that had recently opened.

Come to think of it, a cafe Akira likes is supposed to be bringing out some new blends of coffee. He wonders which one he should tell Shindou to try with him, and the thought makes him press his lips together, still smiling, for how he looks forward to it.]

[protential]

[Hikaru swallows audibly--yeah, it's louder than the buzzing light, he's pretty sure. He's sure every part of himself is audible or visible or just plain apparent whenever Touya looks over at him. The shape of Touya's gaze is different now, but it functions like no less of an X-ray than before, slicing straight through him. It isn't... frightening. It isn't unsettling. It's just a different feel. If they sit down across from each other at a goban, Touya's expression will settle into something dragonlike and familiar for it, while he protects his territory like he would a hoard of treasure. But as soon as the game is over, he looks like he does now, all smooth lakes and good memories to go with them. Even if Hikaru didn't like this side of him, he'd want to hang out simply because it's doing a lot for his badly fraying nerves. Hikaru's headaches don't seem so unbearable when Touya sits close to him, shoulder to shoulder, on purpose. When they're sharing a soft pretzel from a big paper bag full of them. When there's a chance to laze about in his bedroom, talking softly, holding hands with him for a while.

If I'd known sex was all it took to do this, Hikaru thinks, swallowing again, I would have made it happen a lot sooner. A lot sooner! This is peace. With Touya lightly chiding him, this feels like real prosperity. The only problem is, his heart is currently trying to evacuate itself out of the heels of his feet.]

I'm not... being ridiculous. That's not it.

[His face feels kind of warm, and he's never going to forgive himself if he's blushing. Never. The sound of Touya-sensei's stones hitting the board reminded him of bullets being loaded into the chamber of a gun. That's why now is not the time to look over at Touya and wonder if this guy's face is what people mean by an afterglow. Sunrises banding out over the surface of smooth lakes. Picturesque. Yet Touya-sensei is expecting him to pick up rocks and start throwing them all over the place. Hikaru isn't any good at skipping stones. That requires a delicacy that he just doesn't have. His Go is just as uncivilized as the rest of him.]

I was just thinking about, how... [Touya's been doing it on purpose, the bastard. Their hands keep touching under the water, which is an odd sensation, but not completely unwelcome. By the time they're finished, their fingers will be all pruney and feel disgusting all over... He'd still be willing to hold Touya's hand on the way to the station. He was just thinking it'd be nice to hold Touya's hand today, and tomorrow, on the subway, on the way to the Nihon Ki-in, if Touya doesn't mind it. They could hold hands through the end of the week. Hikaru still doesn't like to think beyond the end of the week, or the end of the month, at most. But now it's like Touya-sensei is forcing him to figure out the rest of his life and then invite Touya to take his place in it. The pressure to say the right thing, and do it the right way, is getting to be unbearable.

He turns his head to the side, and he knows he's either going to tell Touya to marry him or he's going to--] I have this friend from school, middle school, not anyone you'd know about, but he called me the other day, totally out of the blue. [--start lying his ass off.] And he called me and he was like, Shindou-kun, I need you to give me some advice. And I was like, wow, really, you want advice from me? Well, lay it on me, my brother. And he said he had this girl he liked so much and he didn't know what to do about it. This really beautiful girl, just legs for days, he was saying, and he said they'd been hanging out for a while and he thought this girl was the one. But he hadn't done anything to, uhhh, make it official, or whatever, even though they'd been doing some stuff, and I was like... Bro! "Bro," I said, "what do you think you're doing? Don't you think you're being unfair to her? Maybe she's waiting for you to say something first. It's your job as a man to tell her how you feel." And he was like, no, I don't think I'm being unfair, I didn't think it was all that important, labels and all of that, because we like each other and, well, if we like each other, then things will work out... And I just said, "Bro, if you don't make your move soon, she's going to wonder if you're actually serious about her." And he was like, no, that isn't gonna happen, because we're always spending time together and we went out for pretzels the other day, even, when we didn't have to do that, and it was... good... [...

ffffffffuuuuuuuck]

Anyway! [Hikaru says hurriedly, his voice an octave higher than where it started.] An-y-way, Touya, I was just wondering if you thought he had a point or if he should follow my advice. I mean, not that you're the love guru or anything, but you know. If there's... you know, whatever you think of it. [This can't even be called a smokescreen when it's so, so transparent, but he's wincing his way toward a verdict regardless. Touya has been oblivious about every-fucking-thing otherwise this week--maybe he'll take the story at face value. If Hikaru can just know what Touya thinks about this sort of thing, it'll be a lot easier to navigate the rest of it.]

[ashlar]

[Shindou's blush looks rough when filtered through the harsh lighting in this closet. Perhaps beneath sunlight, or just something warmer—perhaps if he were sitting on the other side of a goban, the blush might be a dusting of concentrated warmth. Just a draw on Akira's desire to sit closely with Shindou, extrinsic but growing, growing, having grown since his eyes were much wider and clearer. If it grows much more, Akira won't know how else to house it but right atop his waiting tongue.

His tongue, for now, has to wait throughout all of Shindou's speech. Shindou's blush, more of an abrasion than a soft spray of dust, sets Akira to biting at the corner of his mouth, in part to keep from saying anything. His smile doesn't fade so much as shift into something else, wading far into a rippling ponder, with his eyebrows raising up and up. He's thoughtful. After a point, not overwhelmingly suspicious, but at least noticeably so. He squints a bit through "legs for days", before turning his eyes instead toward the ceiling, a corner of the ceiling, far away enough from the too-white light that he can focus, can try to divine wisdom from the water stains. Shindou speaks of how the girl must wonder, and Akira imagines her anxiety over not knowing what this boy thinks of her, how he thinks of her, whether what matters to her also matters to him... Akira's eyes cast from the ceiling to a lower edge of the closet, and he worries his teeth against his bottom lip. His hands have idled in the water, by now, and at last he pulls them from it, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess. When he opens his mouth, he takes an extra moment to situate his tongue, his breath. Then:]

You are being a little ridiculous, at best. [Maybe that means Shindou's motor mouth is overbearing. Maybe it means Akira has seen all slants of light shifting through this pathetic excuse for a smokescreen. Maybe he's just exasperated. There are too many options to be found in the slow shade of his eyelashes, when he blinks for seconds, processing Shindou's gush...

Then, all at once, a return from slow motion.] Well, I know that's what you'd do for someone, if you felt you needed to. [And then his eyes slip up and over to Shindou. He knows that—or feels that he knows that—only because it's what Shindou has just said... so...]

What is this young woman like?

[He asks it respectfully, as if she could be in the room, instead of with his casual language often reserved for Shindou. His eyebrows have smoothed back down, and almost all the wonder has crept back out of his face. The line of his mouth has gone phlegmatic, less impressed, though not less thoughtful.]

[protential]

[Oh no. Oh no. This is bad. The way Touya looks around, studying different parts of the room, means he's actually trying to analyze whatever Hikaru is rambling about. It's how he behaves during a game when Hikaru plays something that will only be relevant fifty hands in and he has to figure out what Hikaru is up to. Hikaru is fully expecting Touya to cut through the bullshit for the both of them, reframing the story to fit them instead, but then... but then, like gravity going sideways, Touya decides to play along with his ruse, at least for the time being. He asks about the girl and Hikaru wants to yell at him, panicky and on his last nerve, that there is no goddamn girl. And he wants to yell at Touya for not looking like as much of a hazy daydream as before. He wants to yell about how he doesn't know what he's doing and this is all his father's fault anyway and he doesn't want to make any promises he can't be sure he'll keep forever. All this agony translates into the tight clenching of his hands, under the water, and the bow string's vibration in between his shoulder blades. Anyone else would know what to say, and how to say it, with less of a crisis along the way. Anyone else would be able to protect Touya's softest smile.

At a loss for what else to do, he tries to keep the narrative going:]

I've never met her, personally, but he told me a few things about her, like... they, uh... the first time they met was when... [and his mind pinwheels through the possibilities, all of them too obvious. There's still a chance Touya is taking this nonsense literally. Still a chance.] They both like to play soccer, if I'm remembering right, and they met each other when they were on opposing teams, and it was like, this, uh... [So much for subtlety. Fuck.] He did something to upset her badly, back then, and that's why he's... trying not to upset her again, just in case... there's... in case she's not looking for a long-term relationship. And I was like, what's this, are you some kind of coward? What's the worst she could say if you asked her out? But I could tell he was really worried about... [Touya-sensei is undoubtedly responsible for the aneurysm that's building inside his brain.] Apparently, she's a very serious person when it comes to soccer--and school, too--but she's definitely stuck on the soccer, just can't get enough of soccer. I used to play a decent game of soccer, you know, before I got into Go, but yeah, she's... She's smart and studious, but she can be a lot of fun to be around, and I said he's pretty lucky to have someone like that, because not everyone can... have someone like that. The sort of person that fills every space inside you.

[Hikaru's voice has climbed back down from its highest perch, and it's very soft and careful now, as much as he can make it. It's the harmless soap suds clinging to his forearms, or maybe the sensation of Touya's hair tickling his face when they've tilted their heads together. He closes his eyes for an overly long moment, remembering the last time they did that, and when they open up again, they're a cloudy green color. Self-doubt. Uncertainty. But he's trying not to let it slow him down any.]

I'm not being ridiculous, [he says quietly, again.]

[ashlar]

[It's difficult for Akira to watch, teeth sunk sharp into his bottom lip, while Shindou scrambles to look for footholds, just neglecting the ones that are so close to him. You idiot, Akira thinks, almost rapt for it, and his eyes narrow into something akin to disbelief. You idiot, you idiot, I am standing right here; I am looking right at you. And he is. His body has gone still, poised as if suspended in seawater, but his eyes are moving all across each of Shindou's features. His clumsy, lying mouth, and his uncertain eyes. Serious, and seriously stuck on the shape of that mouth, Akira twists his own lips while he appraises all that he's just heard. His keen taste sees emeralds shot through with inclusions, susceptible to chips or cracks if mishandled. And he would still have velvet at the ready, for those stones, if the velvet is what Shindou sought. He would wear those emeralds at his throat no matter their cloud. You idiot, he thinks again, what are you doing. He says,] She sounds like a fine young lady, doesn't she. How lucky, for sure. [Is this performative indulgence, or performative distaste toward this speculative girl, or are both or either of those things real...

Abruptly, Akira pushes out a sharp puff of air, and he rolls his eyes heavenward, shaking his head into it, a faint gesture.]

The worst I could say is pretty bad, [he acknowledges at last; it's not like he doesn't understand the fear. By the way, he's over the facade, now, thank you very much. And he whets the edge of his own manner diligently enough to have an idea of how cruel he can be when he chooses.] But I'm seriously wondering. Shindou, did you think I would be unhappy if you came after me a bit? [He's retrieving a hand towel, its terrycloth not particularly soft, and pressing it against his wrists and forearms. While he dries off each of his fingers, he looks down upon all the stones they've washed together.] Didn't you know, that was why it felt so good. [A reciprocal yearning, and realized expressions of desire, and Shindou grabbing onto him. Akira had slept like the dead that night, exhausted by the catharsis of being wanted.

Again, in deliberate docility, Akira's eyes lift up to Shindou from an angle. He keeps his head inclined in its purposeful posture.]

I won't shout at you if you properly ask me to be with you. If that's what you're worried about. I promise. I already told myself I wouldn't do that, if you decided to ask.

[protential]

[This is all because he decided to close that window, Hikaru realizes. The window of the science classroom, when Touya came to him, as earnest as spring itself, and told him that he was waiting to play him again. That he was doing all he could to improve himself so he'd be a worthy opponent. In the moment Hikaru slammed the window shut on him, and the curtains, too, for good measure, he single-handedly created this fetish or whatever. Touya Akira seriously can't get enough of Go, of Hikaru's Go, and he can't get enough of being wanted by Hikaru. Hikaru could probably convince Touya to drop his trousers right here and now if he said a select few things about how much he's wanted Touya all week long. And he has wanted Touya that badly, but the point is... Touya wants to be wanted so much that Hikaru can tell he hasn't seen the full depths of it. He thought he understood Touya's idiosyncrasies up until he had those legs(-for-days) wrapped around him and heard Touya begging him for more. Of course, it was less like begging and more like a hostage taker making demands, but still...

He is not going to get a hard-on while he's washing the Go stones. He is not. He should be focused on what Touya is saying, and on his own vindication: yes, Touya could smash him to a million pieces if he wanted to, with only one strike of the hammer. Touya-sensei raised a raging barbarian for a son, whether or not he knows it.] Pretty bad. Right. [No more pretense. That's kind of a relief.] So you can't blame me for wanting to take my time with this. [He shifts the stones around aimlessly, not really washing them anymore. Now he's regretting the roundabout way he approached this, when a direct line might've been better, or at least not any worse. Touya must think he isn't treating the issue seriously at all. That he's just fucking around. Damn it.]

Look, I didn't think you'd be unhappy, just that... it's more complicated than that. We're already lots of things to each other, so if you had room for one more thing--I didn't know what to think. You called me... Before, you said... [It was the first Oteai match of the year and Hikaru was running late for it. Not on purpose! Not his fault at all. The train was severely delayed, and when he got to the Nihon Ki-in, the fucking elevators were being repaired. Both of them. So he had to hoof it up several flights of stairs, and that was after sprinting from the station, so he was completely wrecked by the time he got to the landing. He stopped just inside the stairwell, up against the door, trying to catch his breath, telling himself he had to get back in shape already. Then he heard Touya's voice outside somewhere. It was thin and strident. It was angry, except he was trying not to seem angry at the same time. Formal and polite in the way of a knife being extra sharp so it doesn't hurt as much when it's sliding between your ribs. He was talking to someone about... Shindou, about rivalry, about how there might be more out there for Touya, if only he'd go looking for it. Hikaru was late again, this nosy motherfucking 5-dan was saying, as unreliable as ever, and Touya had to be tired of that sort of thing. But Touya was adamant that Shindou Hikaru was his one and only--]

Eternal rival. That's what you said about me, I heard you say it, so when it's like that, it's like... could boyfriend really convey what we have? With each other... already...

[But that doesn't mean he doesn't want a boyfriend and an eternal rival. Touya chewed him out for a minute straight before the starting bell, once he finally opened the door and apologized for being late. He was still reeling from hearing it, though. He was dizzy and giddy and his heart was beating so fast. Eternal rival. He keeps on not realizing how much Touya wants to be with him. It's a deep-sea trench with no discernible bottom.

He ducks his head slightly, feeling more and more like an idiot. His cheeks are still too warm. It's impossible to smile when Touya is looking at him like he could start shouting at him. Even so,]

Do you want to go out with me, Touya?

[ashlar]

[Something goes alight in Akira's eyes, and not in a beautiful way. This is the dread of the doe, the vulnerability of one unguarded. It's as if, in this moment, Akira has forgotten how to toss his head and humble people just with that. Like he can't recall his own antlers, brutal as they ever are during other times. Akira only hears the crunching of pine needles, only smells the leather from his skinned predecessors; he only anticipates the gunshot.

And all at once, he remembers that he's capable of knocking heads with anybody. His face peaks into bright outrage, and his mouth opens like the worst kind of herald.] It's not— [No, no, no. Already, this isn't how things are meant to go at all. Akira isn't supposed to shout. He just said he wouldn't shout. He isn't supposed to gore the fear of harm before harm comes... Realizing this, he goes a little white in the face, a little tight-lipped, and he grabs for Shindou's hand, darting back beneath the water. He holds it there, domineering in its refusal to let Shindou escape, but also... frantic, honestly worried, in its fright of Shindou escaping. He holds onto Shindou's fingers, and he turns his face away, which is unusual enough by itself, when generally he's staring like cannot bear to keep from staring. His eyes cast low and far, but his shoulders are taut with the effort of that.

Finally, he breathes, and on that breath, he says,] It's not complicated. [This is quiet, doubly quiet, deliberate in its raw hush. He sounds ashamed of himself, a thing more often reserved for self-criticism of his failings. Though, that's what this is, now. He has to consciously try not to squeeze Shindou's hand to the point of pain for either of them... Once more, he forces his fingers to loosen (only enough so that Shindou keeps his circulation; not enough that Shindou can easily leave). Still quiet, he tries,] Not that complicated. Not so much that you have to...

[Beneath the shifting of their hands, the stones can be heard clinking. It's a light noise, unsuitable for the moment, its sound given body by the barrier of washing water. Akira turns his face to look at Shindou again, and his eyes carry that same body, that same fullness: water, the threat of it, the soothe of it. He is less ashamed and more intent when he admits,] Yes, I did say that. I said that about you. [He's slotting their fingers together even if he has to do it stiffly and intrusively.] I never intended to be just a part. Shindou, I already made room. When we... I wouldn't have... [His face twitches, then pitches hard into heavy offense. He's frustrated.] I slept with you. Of course I want the rest of it, too. Of course, of course, [like a stammer, but more heated... Akira lifts his hand, with Shindou's, out of the washing water. He wants to dry them both with the terrycloth, pressing it, as delicately as his anxiety will allow, to the back of Shindou's hand. He so wishes to be tender.] I want to.

[He works on drying off each of Shindou's fingers, as best he can, given he still won't let go of them.]

I don't care what word you use for it. It could be any word as long as you know what I mean by it. If being your boyfriend means we'll be walking the same way, then I'm your boyfriend. [Mindful, now, his words come gentler and gentler on every next breath. He isn't shouting, and he's growing less strained. Winding down, as best he can, with each bit of skin he wipes dry for Shindou. Shindou, uncertain, trying hard... Akira knows he's trying. He can tell that much. It's a special thing, to see Shindou trying, to Akira's face.] I don't want for either of us to go in any other direction. I found my eternal rival; you are mine. I found you. Shindou, let's go out together.

[protential]

[If Hikaru were forced to say one thing he genuinely likes about his own Go, it would be this: his ability to read far into the future. He's most definitely above average when it comes to visualizing where a game can go next. This ability to see dozens of possibilities and how they branch out into more possibilities--it's akin to tree roots spreading and splitting, again and again, and he can follow them down to what's most favorable to him. When it comes to this kind of thing, too, finally asking Touya out, he thought he had gamed out every possible way this could go right or wrong or everything in between. But he missed the variation where Touya looks at him like he's staring down the barrel of a gun, one twitch away from eradication. He missed the variation where Touya, for no apparent reason, dives back into the water to take hold of his hand in a viselike grip. He missed the variation where Touya stammers--actually goddamn stammers, no matter its heat--out a response about what he wants and the space he's made to arrange it in. After all he's missed out on, Hikaru is admittedly a little slack-jawed, and his eyes are wider than ever, a startled hue. He doesn't know the first thing about the variation they're going down. In an alternate universe, Touya was supposed to laugh him off with a few choice words about not letting his dick get in the way of his rivalry. Or, Touya was supposed to accept the offer as it stands, but in a quiet, demure, graciously cute way, because he's never gone out with someone before.

Hikaru doesn't know if he likes this variation thus far. To have Touya squeezing his hand, and to see the worry lines carving up Touya's pale face, like he's expecting the worst--Hikaru doesn't like those details much at all. It makes him want to take his hands out of the water and set them against Touya's features, gently, ever so gently. His cheeks, first, and then his temples. Lately, he's taken to using his thumbs to smooth out the creases on that forehead, guiding them into irrelevance. Whatever was haunting Touya, stressing him out, temporarily banished with a touch. It's something he really likes doing when they're waiting to fall asleep together, sharing the same futon and everything. Touya always makes the softest, sleepiest sounds when Hikaru tends to him, the sort that pluck hard at one's heartstrings. Right now, Touya looks like every string inside of him is in danger of snapping. It's no good. It's the worst, in fact.

In memory of something bitter, Hikaru's throat works around a rough, painful swallow, his tongue pressing against the backs of his teeth. Touya-sensei had plenty to say during their game about the strange, powerful effect Hikaru has had on his son. Akira had his heart set on you for longer than you know, or so he rumbled, and Hikaru actually felt like shit to hear that Touya was always thinking about him. He ended up apologizing for all he's done to distract Touya from his otherwise straightforward shot at a career. Touya's father simply sighed, disappointed, (which was mortifying enough on its own,) and asked him if he ever bothered to apologize to Touya himself.]

Touya...

[Just as Hikaru is about to compose an apology, he's also absorbing the wild things Touya is telling him, the things too important to ignore. His eyes go wider, and wider still, and the next time he's swallows, he's pretty sure he caught a mouthful of those small moths flitting near the light: they're going crazy down his throat and all around his stomach. He hasn't looked away from Touya, and he isn't going to look away, even when Touya takes it upon himself to dry off his hand. The other one drips freely onto the floor, a few fingers twitching with pent-up energy. ...then I'm your boyfriend. No way. I found my eternal rival. No way. Come on. You are mine. He tries to bite his bottom lip to stop it from doing something weird, like dancing up both sides of his face, but...

In all his variations, he never once stopped to consider what would happen after Touya accepted him.] Really? [he asks, then, and he sounds like a literal squeak toy, trying not to shout by tightening his throat.] You want to? With me? You seriously want to go out with me? [And he gives no warning whatsoever before he yanks his hands away and then practically launches himself into Touya's arms, ready or not. His own arms go up and around Touya's neck, as tight as anything, and he loses himself to this high-pitched, uncontrollable burst of laughter. The smartest, prettiest boy in the whole world wants to date him of all people--how is he supposed to believe that? It's happening, yeah, but how is he supposed to believe it?! It's enough to make him weak and wobbly in the knees. Enough to make him forget, if only for the time being, that the Hokuto Cup is looming ahead of him like a guillotine.

In a rush, and a rushing of blood to his head:] I want to be your eternal rival, and your boyfriend, and your best friend-- [This is also the first time he's admitting to that.] Because you're all of those things to me, Touya, and I wanted to-- All this time, I didn't think you'd-- [He isn't eloquent enough for a full speech, so he just sloppily kisses into Touya's hair, landing near the sweet-smelling shell of an ear. His breaths are coming quickly now, but they're each determined.] I just want to be with you, [he says on one of those breaths, making a vow that extends far into the future.] Any way. In every way possible. If you found me, then I found you, too. I found you, I found you, and I'm keeping you right here with me.