#4. our distance and that person (Hikaru no Go - snippet)
For 30_kisses, which seems to be all about cracktastic pairings. Ogata/Akira. (Not as cracktastic as some.) First of several.



#4. our distance and that person


Ogata placed his hand on the door handle and paused, watching, as Shindou pushed past him down the hall. He had always been calmly curious when it came to Shindou. There was something, behind the bravura, to be unravelled. "You're drunk, right? So, like, it wouldn't be weird if I beat you, would it?"

Would it? His memory of that night was blurred.

The Touyas always had a slightly bigger room than he expected. When he opened the door, he saw that the conference organizers had been generous. The suite was carpeted in opulent creams, the walls were relieved by tasteful artwork. One full wall was glass, with a view. There was a couch, a dining table, a second table, a lounge suite, an entertainment system, a balcony. The far flung bedrooms and kitchen lay across miles of cream carpet.

Akira stood by the glass wall. Only the line of his back was visible. He wore a suit and no longer quite looked like a child in a suit.

"We have nothing to talk about," said Akira, unmoving, when the door closed.

A goban was set up on the dining table, western-style, with chairs. Ogata took off his suit jacket and threw it casually over the back of one of them.

"You don't know who it is," said Ogata.

Akira's voice, unchanged after a small pause, was polite. "Ogata-san. I'm afraid my father isn't due back until eleven."

"You don't mind if I wait?" said Ogata.

Akira didn't turn. Ogata hardly expected him to reply. This stateroom was his father's privilege. Touya Kouyou was here not as part of the conference but he had arranged to play one of the Chinese pros under the radar, acting on this whim with the childish enthusiasm that was increasingly typical of him. The father, in retirement, was relaxing, while the son grew more flatly single minded, his sights fixed on the future and on the opponent he was constantly assessing, level eyed.

"I passed Shindou on my way in," said Ogata.

"He was just here," said Akira.

Ogata wandered over and took a moment to study the goban. Black: Akira's classical opening had his father's fingerprints all over it. White: Shindou's erratic talent was unmistakable. The game was still in the opening stages. It was Shindou's move.

Shindou's chair had been pushed back too hard. It lay on the floor where it had not been righted.

Absently, Ogata reached into his breast pocket.

"This is a non-smoking room," said Akira without turning around.

Ogata looked up. Akira's gaze was trained on the street; Ogata followed it with his own, briefly. Shindou would be rooming in a cheaper, more remote hotel. He was probably emerging from the conference centre about now. The street was visible but, at this hour, empty; out further, the uninspired landscape of Shita-Kamogawa and, in the distance, lights.

"These days, he beats you more often than not, doesn't he?" Ogata said.

"No," said Akira.

A thin smile. Ogata was very curious as to the win-loss ratio between Akira and Shindou. He suspected it was only slightly skewed in Akira's favour. Too close for comfort, considering that Akira had begun this race with a ten year head start.

"I played him once. I was so drunk that he beat me. The interesting thing is that I had the impression he would have beaten me anyway."

"He wouldn't have."

"Are you sure? There's always been something . . . unusual about him. Your father says that he put himself under a self-imposed handicap during the shoudan series. Why would he do that unless he thought he would win too easily otherwise?"

"I don't know."

"I saw a recreation of his game against Yonha. Of course, he lost. But when Kurata substituted him I really thought he was going to win. Kurata thought so too, obviously. I wonder what you thought?"

"I tried not to think anything."

"I wonder if, after all, Shindou Hikaru might be--"

"Stop talking about him," said Akira, turning.

His beauty was febrile; his eyes glittered and colour was burned across his cheeks.

"So that's what happened," said Ogata.