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31_days2006-12-08 01:26 am
issen4.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-12-08 01:26 am
[7 December 2006] [Hikaru no Go] The Shape of the Stones 10/10
Title: The Shape of the Stones 10/10
Day/Theme: 07. (You Drive Me) Crazy/ ~I just can’t sleep~
Series: Hikaru no Go
Pairing: past Isumi/Waya, Isumi/Le Ping
Rating: General
-----------------------
He came across the worn-looking cardboard box while searching for a Go stone that had gone flying from the spilled go-ke. It was shoved at the very end of the bookshelf, behind a book of elementary Go problems. He opened it, and found himself looking down at the photograph in the dented plastic frame.
"Hey, I don't remember ever wearing army fatigues," a thoughtful voice said behind him.
He turned around.
His lover was frowning at the photograph, scratching his stomach without thought. "Those don't even look real like real army clothes," he went on. "And the two of us look so young-" he caught himself as realization dawned. "Oh," he said in a small voice.
"I think it was when I was still an insei," he said, a flood of explanations rushing through his mind.
And so was he.
"I see," Le Ping tried to chuckle, but it sounded strangled. "Right. How silly of me. I'll, er, go and cook dinner." His arm jerked upwards, and fell, as though he had intended to touch Isumi, and changed his mind at the last minute.
He tried to catch hold of that outstretched hand, but missed, forgetting that the photograph was still in his hand. "Le Ping," he whispered, and watched as his lover slip into the kitchen as though he was being hunted.
The kitchen of their new apartment had been outfitted for Chinese cooking, and a large wok had taken up semi-permanent residence on the stove. The counter faced the window. The dusk light was still bright enough, he saw as he entered, to reflect unshed tears.
"Le Ping!" he exclaimed, and hurried forward. "I'm sorry! I-"
"It's all right."
"I've never thought of you as a substitute for Yoshitaka."
It was as though they were picking up where they had left off in an earlier argument.
Le Ping said, "Yang Hai warned me, you know. He said that this... with you, was my choice. But he said, if you ever call me by his name at certain times-"
Icy horror filled his veins. "I did what?" Memories of their intimate activities raced through his mind, and he tried to recall what he had said. He was sure he had not done that. He could not have.
"I said, 'if'," Le Ping said. "You haven't."
Isumi relaxed.
"You won't. You're too clever to do that."
He felt his jaw drop. "What?"
"Even if I am just a stand-in, for him, you would never do anything to make me feel inferior." Le Ping turned to him. "You are a good man, Shinichiro," he said, his voice husky. "And I want you too much to care." The water in his eyes stayed there as he looked away.
He suddenly remembered that night, after the disastrous revelation of Waya's omiai, when Le Ping had fell into his arms and cried. He had known then. He did not know what made him so sure,, but that certainty that given him the strength through the confrontation with Waya, and the breakup of a both a relationship and a friendship.
"You are not a stand-in," he said. He hugged Le Ping from behind, closing his eyes so he could feel the warmth of the other man's body. "You're not Yoshitaka's substitute," he murmured, "or a replacement of any sort. That day, when you cried for me, I realized that you were the person I've been searching for... the person I had been hoping Yoshitaka would be."
"...really?"
He pressed a kiss to the back of Le Ping's neck. "Yes."
"It's onions."
"What?" The change of topic took him by surprise.
"Onions," Le Ping said patiently. "I'm cutting up onions. I'm not really crying."
Only then did he look down to see the knife and vegetable on the chopping board. "Oh," he said, flushing.
"Ha ha, gotcha," Le Ping said, but he did not smile. "I've been waiting for you to say that," he went on, as he continued to slice the large onions steadily. "Because I've been in love with you since I was fourteen, and it would suck if you realized that you love me only because I look like him."
"I-"
Le Ping smiled, as though to himself. "Your Go has always been honest. I know the shape of your Go. I knew you wouldn't lie to me, or yourself."
It was wise not to argue with a man holding a knife. "I-" He did not know how to continue, but the weight on his shoulders had suddenly disappeared.
Le Ping snorted as he started chopping the onions. "You're really silly, you know. I wouldn't get upset at an old photograph... Ow, my eyes-" he stopped chopping and blinked rapidly; two tears rolled down his cheeks.
Isumi reached out and thumbed them gently away.
-------------the end-------------
Day/Theme: 07. (You Drive Me) Crazy/ ~I just can’t sleep~
Series: Hikaru no Go
Pairing: past Isumi/Waya, Isumi/Le Ping
Rating: General
-----------------------
He came across the worn-looking cardboard box while searching for a Go stone that had gone flying from the spilled go-ke. It was shoved at the very end of the bookshelf, behind a book of elementary Go problems. He opened it, and found himself looking down at the photograph in the dented plastic frame.
"Hey, I don't remember ever wearing army fatigues," a thoughtful voice said behind him.
He turned around.
His lover was frowning at the photograph, scratching his stomach without thought. "Those don't even look real like real army clothes," he went on. "And the two of us look so young-" he caught himself as realization dawned. "Oh," he said in a small voice.
"I think it was when I was still an insei," he said, a flood of explanations rushing through his mind.
And so was he.
"I see," Le Ping tried to chuckle, but it sounded strangled. "Right. How silly of me. I'll, er, go and cook dinner." His arm jerked upwards, and fell, as though he had intended to touch Isumi, and changed his mind at the last minute.
He tried to catch hold of that outstretched hand, but missed, forgetting that the photograph was still in his hand. "Le Ping," he whispered, and watched as his lover slip into the kitchen as though he was being hunted.
The kitchen of their new apartment had been outfitted for Chinese cooking, and a large wok had taken up semi-permanent residence on the stove. The counter faced the window. The dusk light was still bright enough, he saw as he entered, to reflect unshed tears.
"Le Ping!" he exclaimed, and hurried forward. "I'm sorry! I-"
"It's all right."
"I've never thought of you as a substitute for Yoshitaka."
It was as though they were picking up where they had left off in an earlier argument.
Le Ping said, "Yang Hai warned me, you know. He said that this... with you, was my choice. But he said, if you ever call me by his name at certain times-"
Icy horror filled his veins. "I did what?" Memories of their intimate activities raced through his mind, and he tried to recall what he had said. He was sure he had not done that. He could not have.
"I said, 'if'," Le Ping said. "You haven't."
Isumi relaxed.
"You won't. You're too clever to do that."
He felt his jaw drop. "What?"
"Even if I am just a stand-in, for him, you would never do anything to make me feel inferior." Le Ping turned to him. "You are a good man, Shinichiro," he said, his voice husky. "And I want you too much to care." The water in his eyes stayed there as he looked away.
He suddenly remembered that night, after the disastrous revelation of Waya's omiai, when Le Ping had fell into his arms and cried. He had known then. He did not know what made him so sure,, but that certainty that given him the strength through the confrontation with Waya, and the breakup of a both a relationship and a friendship.
"You are not a stand-in," he said. He hugged Le Ping from behind, closing his eyes so he could feel the warmth of the other man's body. "You're not Yoshitaka's substitute," he murmured, "or a replacement of any sort. That day, when you cried for me, I realized that you were the person I've been searching for... the person I had been hoping Yoshitaka would be."
"...really?"
He pressed a kiss to the back of Le Ping's neck. "Yes."
"It's onions."
"What?" The change of topic took him by surprise.
"Onions," Le Ping said patiently. "I'm cutting up onions. I'm not really crying."
Only then did he look down to see the knife and vegetable on the chopping board. "Oh," he said, flushing.
"Ha ha, gotcha," Le Ping said, but he did not smile. "I've been waiting for you to say that," he went on, as he continued to slice the large onions steadily. "Because I've been in love with you since I was fourteen, and it would suck if you realized that you love me only because I look like him."
"I-"
Le Ping smiled, as though to himself. "Your Go has always been honest. I know the shape of your Go. I knew you wouldn't lie to me, or yourself."
It was wise not to argue with a man holding a knife. "I-" He did not know how to continue, but the weight on his shoulders had suddenly disappeared.
Le Ping snorted as he started chopping the onions. "You're really silly, you know. I wouldn't get upset at an old photograph... Ow, my eyes-" he stopped chopping and blinked rapidly; two tears rolled down his cheeks.
Isumi reached out and thumbed them gently away.
-------------the end-------------