hikaru shindou ⑤ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
protential) wrote2019-03-02 05:38 pm
protential) wrote2019-03-02 05:38 pm
i want to be untouchable and beautiful and completely dead inside.
[It's raining. It's been raining for hours--all day, and for most of the night. Every so often, a peal of thunder rolls by overhead and Hikaru ends up holding the pillow even tighter against his face. Behind him, stationed at his back, vigilant yet curled inward, Akira barely moves a muscle, other than to shift an infinitesimal bit closer. It's raining pretty hard right now. Hikaru isn't facing the windows of their bedroom, but he can see the lightning flashes on the wall across from him, patterned with shadowy raindrops sliding down the glass. He tries to count each and every raindrop, then gives up. They're slated to have an early morning tomorrow. It's going to start with Akira's predawn alarm clocks--yeah, plural--always an ordeal to get him out of bed--and a couple quick showers where they'll try to be egalitarian about the hot water. Then it's a painfully early study session with Yamabe-sensei, followed by breakfast with Kaiho-san, who wants their opinion on some pending rule changes for the insei. After that, they have an interview with Otake-san, the creepy reporter, leading into a series of full-blown exhibition matches, thankfully taking place at the Ki-in. Analyzing those games is gonna take a while, with a short break for lunch, and then... it's just going to be a busy day. Not impossibly busy, but they won't get home until later in the evening; they'll do what they can to relax and maybe watch something on Netflix together. Lately, it's been random-ass documentaries on topics they have zero experience with and exposure to. It lets them turn off their brains for a while.
Thunder rolls by overhead. Akira makes a small, breathy sound, maybe because he's content, maybe because he's already falling asleep. Hikaru is no less wide awake than he was a minute ago, wondering how the hell he got himself into a situation like this. He can't say he knows a single thing about living peacefully. About routines, and timetables, and keeping a planner that details his every important action. Of course Akira is the one filling out that planner for him, but it's just so goddamn strange when he thinks about it: having a road map for his daily existence. He never once believed he would see his future stretching out ahead of him in perfect calligraphical clarity. Ooteai matches, qualifiers, tournaments, interviews, study sessions... Akira. Always Akira, woven in and amidst everything. If this is a dense thicket, only Akira is armed with a machete to get them through it.]
Hey, do you remember... [Hikaru doesn't know what he's saying until he's saying it, and he realizes he's said too much already. If Akira is asleep-- If Akira gets woken up, he'll be upset about it--hopefully, and Akira's anger would be more of a relief than not. They don't fight as often or as bitterly as they used to, which is a strange and scary thing in its own way. Even when he tries his best to get under Akira's skin, sometimes Akira just looks at him and smiles like he can't believe how lucky he is. It's disturbing. Contrary to gut instinct.]
I told you before...
[A long time ago, now. Hikaru turns his face into the pillow, exhaling, inhaling again. The bed smells warm and like Akira's brand of shampoo (which, at some point, Hikaru adopted for himself).]
Sai taught me how to play Go. I told you that, didn't I?
Thunder rolls by overhead. Akira makes a small, breathy sound, maybe because he's content, maybe because he's already falling asleep. Hikaru is no less wide awake than he was a minute ago, wondering how the hell he got himself into a situation like this. He can't say he knows a single thing about living peacefully. About routines, and timetables, and keeping a planner that details his every important action. Of course Akira is the one filling out that planner for him, but it's just so goddamn strange when he thinks about it: having a road map for his daily existence. He never once believed he would see his future stretching out ahead of him in perfect calligraphical clarity. Ooteai matches, qualifiers, tournaments, interviews, study sessions... Akira. Always Akira, woven in and amidst everything. If this is a dense thicket, only Akira is armed with a machete to get them through it.]
Hey, do you remember... [Hikaru doesn't know what he's saying until he's saying it, and he realizes he's said too much already. If Akira is asleep-- If Akira gets woken up, he'll be upset about it--hopefully, and Akira's anger would be more of a relief than not. They don't fight as often or as bitterly as they used to, which is a strange and scary thing in its own way. Even when he tries his best to get under Akira's skin, sometimes Akira just looks at him and smiles like he can't believe how lucky he is. It's disturbing. Contrary to gut instinct.]
I told you before...
[A long time ago, now. Hikaru turns his face into the pillow, exhaling, inhaling again. The bed smells warm and like Akira's brand of shampoo (which, at some point, Hikaru adopted for himself).]
Sai taught me how to play Go. I told you that, didn't I?