Certain Things…

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the anime/manga series Hikaru no Go. In addition the lyrics used are not my own, they're from the new Garbage cd and the song is called "It's all over but the crying."

Ch1

Touya, Akira sat straighter in the chair at his father's Go Salon. His expression was composed and his serious green eyes revealed none of the emotions that were warring within him. Almost absently, the young man picked up a go stone and placed it more out of habit than anything else on the wooden go board. The sound of stone hitting the wooden surface should have been comforting.

The key words were 'should have been…'

/Everything you think you know baby, is wrong/

He was tired. Drained. But that didn't stop him. It would not stop him. It could not… His eyes flickered over the go board before he picked up another stone. He placed it as well and continued, forming a pattern that was all too familiar to his brain. Instead of calming him though, the pattern seemed to mock him. As did the empty seat that sat opposite of him. So much for the promises of changing…Akira snorted and shook his head. With deft movement that belied the years of practice, he scooped up the stones and separated them into their appropriate containers.

He was tired of always being the one who waited.

The one who was hurt.

The one who was silent.

Who was alone…

/And everything you think you had baby, is gone/

His parents had left today once again for China. His announcement that he was ready to move out of the house before they left had brought outright relief from his parents. Akira knew that part of the reason for this relief was due to the fact that his mother worried about him being alone in their big house. Alone in a big house or alone in a small apartment made little difference to Akira. In his mind, alone was alone. Either way he would have no one to come home to. And that was that.

Akira placed a stone down that he'd been playing with between his fingers. He started reconstructing a new game. Another memory. His hands played the moves almost absently as his mind continued to contemplate.

He hadn't realized that their relief would hurt just like he hadn't known waiting for Shindo to come day in and day out for their usual game of go would hurt as well.

He was used to being alone.

So why was it any different now?

Why did he feel so used? Betrayed? The words sounded ugly to his brain and unjustified. They didn't make any sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

He was floundering and he didn't know why.

/Certain things turn ugly when you think too hard/

Maybe it was just a doubt that had started out as a question in the back of his mind.

Why was he playing go?

Yes he loved the game. Yes it was his passion, the air he breathed in…his life and soul. But.

But truth be told, he had not started playing go because of all those reasons.

He had started playing because he wanted his father to see him. To see him.

Akira had thought, had secretly hoped that if he could play and be the best at go, then he could stop being simply third best in his father's eyes. Being third to go and his mother had been hard as a child even if he hadn't really understood it at the time.

The stone he placed down crashed against the wood. The sound echoed in his ears and he stopped, realizing belatedly that his breath had started to come in more rapidly. He needed to calm down. Akira picked up another stone, eyes scanning the growing pattern. It was mocking him again.

Damn it.

How does she stand it? How could his mother stand to have a husband she loved not place her above a game of stones and intricate patterns that only a few could see and understand? She seemed to accept it so blindly as if there was nothing that she could do except to accept and try to understand. But it hurt… knowing. And only an emotionally blind person would not be aware of it. And though Akira was aware that many thought he was emotionally handicapped, had a stick up his ass and etc… he definitely was not blind enough to not know that he and his mother had little importance in his father's eyes in comparison to this game. And god it hurt.

/And nagging little thoughts

Change into things you can't turn off/

Akira had been blind to it at one point. No…not blind, just happily ignoring it as he strived to better himself in every way possible to get his father's approval. In doing so, he too placed the game before his mother. Like father, like son.

The green eyes dulled. The pale hand wavered. The pattern was wrong. He had to start again. He picked it apart and began anew.

When had the thought, the question, the doubt become clear to him? Become a festering wound that he kept from everyone… not that anyone cared enough….He shook his head, shoulder length hair flying and disturbing the air around him. A scene played in the back of his head erasing the pattern from his mind that he'd been trying to recreate. He sat back and let it wash over him finally, tired of trying to keep it at bay and go back to ignoring it like he had before.

He'd been getting ready to leave for a go study group. If he closed his eyes, he could almost remember the feeling of the harsher fabric pushing his sweater closer to his skin as he shrugged the coat on. His mother had been cleaning the living room and had made the off hand comment that they would be eating dinner at home. Strange. Weren't they going to visit father at the hospital? He'd asked and been told his father had said not to be bothered as he was going to be playing an important go game and did not want to be interrupted. Akira had been startled at first. Too startled to be hurt.

"You and he are really only about Go." His mother has whispered not bothering to turn around and look at her son as he said goodbye and made his way out. Akira physically winced at the memory of the words. His eyes opened. The memory was pushed aside.

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him that Shindo was an hour and half late. Akira had waited longer than that for the other boy on previous occasions. He didn't wish to relive the experience that had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't think he could handle it at the moment.

2nd best. 3rd best. What did it matter?

He would never be first in anybody's thoughts. Not his family… not his rival… not even in the game.

/Everything you think you know baby, is wrong./

"Leaving already, Akira-kun?" Ichikawa-san asked her voice slightly worried. He gave her a smile and nodded, the reassuring words that were at the tip of his voice wavering. He didn't know if he could say them out loud without getting caught in the lie.

"Yes. I have…" He stumbled a bit over the next words. "…homework to do." He bowed his head so as to not have to see the worry melting away from those expressive eyes of hers. He made sure to thank the young woman properly as she handed him his backpack, not even thinking to question his words. Her cheerful and trusting goodbye almost made him want to take it all back and he didn't know why.

Tired. He was tired. That was the reason he was behaving this way. That was the reason the thoughts that he could usually will away were staying and hounding him and making him lose his concentration like some lost child. He made his way to the bus station, green eyes focused inward. His hand passed through his long hair without thought, brushing the strands away from his face.

The bus did not make him wait long as it arrived a few minutes after he did. He climbed in, money already in hand. A polite smile curled his lips upwards in greeting towards the bus driver. He found an empty seat and lowered himself into it. The smile dropped from that face that was too young and too old at the same time. His body unwound slightly from the usual rigid stance, a slouch curving his shoulders just barely. His head touched the window as his eyes followed the moving scenery.

And again the thoughts he couldn't escape came to him.

Heart attack. His father had had a heart attack on the day Akira had been scheduled to play Shindo. He remembered feeling like someone had sucker punched him and ripped his heart out in the process. He remembered seeing in a daze that his mother was crying and trying not to. He remembered feeling lost and scared. To think… a few weeks after that, his father had told his mother not to bother to come and visit so to not interrupt his go game. Damn the man! Akira was trembling. Didn't he know? Didn't he see how scared the two of them had been for his health, for his safety? Screw the fact that the doctors had said he was on the mend and doing much better. He was still in the hospital! And Akira had needed to see for himself daily, that his father was truly on the mend. And that day, he hadn't been allowed. Hadn't been allowed because his father's love for go had been greater than his love for son and wife. Akira snorted softly, his warm breath creating an ephemeral fog on the window his face was pressing against. He was being ridiculous and unfair. How could his father know what went on in his son's mind anyway? Apart from go, communication between them had been…weak.

Akira had always seen his father as being solid, strong, someone that would always be there… that illusion had been shattered beyond recognition. And no matter how many times he tried to pick up the pieces and glue them back together…the worry in his mother's eyes as she tried to get his father to slow down his pace, to not play go every second of every minute of every hour…would break the pieces into even smaller ones. She had always supported Akira's father in every move and decision he made.

Now though, she followed him everywhere, a silent shadow.

Akira was scared.

Nothing in his world was where it should be. He didn't think it ever could be again.

/It's all over but the crying/

A blinking light from the answering machine caught Akira's attention the minute he stepped into the house. With a quick motion, he pressed the button and waited to hear who had called. Ogata-sensei? His mind asked, naming the possibilities as the machine told him clearly that he only had one message. Ashiwara? The time was given. One of his father's students? And then…

"Akira? Your mother and I just wanted to let you know that we arrived safely and on time." His father's voice was clear and its sound startled Akira into pausing where he was. His hand had been reaching to loosen the tie around his neck. It stilled. His head tilted towards the sound of the familiar voice. For a moment it was comforting. "You must be at the Go salon. We'll try calling tomorrow and your mother is asking me to wish you good luck for your match on Wednesday. I have every faith that you will make us proud once again." For a moment. His heart had stopped at the mention of Go. Now it resumed its dull beat. His hand finished the task that it had begun. "Take care of yourself." When had he not? "You know where to reach us if needed." Click. End of message. He pushed another button that would delete it and he heard the soft buzz to let him know that the tape was being rewound. He did indeed know how to reach them. He also knew who to call if needed. The thought was just a bit bitter, just a bit tired, just a bit sad. Ogata-sensei was the one he would turn to first. He knew that. Not his father… but Ogata-sensei. The man had been the first to know that he'd passed his Go exams. The first to acknowledge him to the professional world of theirs. It was he, Akira would call if he needed anything.

And not his father.

He slipped the tie over hid head and made his way up the stairs, dropping it listlessly into the laundry basket when he passed it.

/Fade to black, I'm sick of trying/

He ignored the backpack full of homework waiting to be done. He even ignored the growing hunger pans within him. The young man simply sank with in his bed, ignoring the voices in his head saying everything he was supposed to do and everything he was supposed to stand for. Akira closed his eyes, trying to find relief in the darkness that sleep could and would provide him if it came to embrace him. It didn't for the longest of times and Akira was left alone to fend off his own thoughts that were trying to drown him.

To Be Continued...