Author's Notes: This was started for and inspired by Talya Fyredancer's Shot in the Head Challenge. I didn't finish it in time. Still, this first part is done.
Rating: R for violence, WIP
Pairing: Implied Touya/Hikaru
Written: 2003
Akira's attention was totally focused on the stones before him, watching their placement by his opponent and looking at the flaws in the pattern. This was not the final match, the deciding game, but it was important enough to matter. His opponent placed a stone against the board, and Akira pondered his next move.
His pattern is weak in the upper corner. Akira's eyes narrowed. He is trying to acquire more territory near the center of the board. It should be fairly easy to block that. I don't think he will go for the weakness in the right corner. I doubt he even notices it. A few more moves, and if he doesn't see the opening in the corner and make up some territory, he'll have to resign.
With his move decided, Akira placed the next stone.
The game moved rather quickly after that, heading towards the conclusion that Akira predicted. Towards the end, his opponent's moves became more frantic as he attempted to make up lost ground. It was his downfall.
"Thank you for the game." Akira's opponent bowed over the goban.
"Thank you for the game." Akira returned the bow.
"A good game, Touya-sensei, Watanabe-sensei." Everyone moved for the first time since the first stone of the game was laid, breaking the almost eerie stillness that had descended. Akira blinked, dragging his mind away from studying the game before him, and repressing the instinctive urge to look for his father. It still startled him to be referred to as Touya-sensei.
"Yes, it was a good game," Akira replied.
"Maaa... you flatter me, Touya-sensei. I was nowhere near your level," Watanabe said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. Watanabe had passed the pro exam at the age of twenty-two a few years ago. It didn't matter. Akira was use to facing weaker opponents who were older than he was.
"Do you want to discuss the game?" Akira asked. Most people did if only to try and learn his insights into their moves.
"Yes, thank you."
Hikaru watched from the video room, listening in as Touya and Watanabe discussed the game. He gulped down the last of his water, but his eyes never left the screen. Waya called him obsessed. Hikaru ignored him.
It wasn't like he didn't already know what the flaws in the game were. He'd played enough with Touya to think like Touya did. Sometimes. At the same time, every time he heard one of Touya's explanations or replayed one of Touya's games, he got closer to beating his rival. One of these days, he would surpass Touya.
After a few minutes though, Hikaru had heard all of the discussion that he needed to hear. Mostly he had wanted to know about a few of the opening moves by Touya. He knew there had been weaknesses in the pattern. Hikaru had just wanted to know if Touya recognized them as well.
The only problem is, Touya would never have been that careless if he were playing me. You're getting sloppy with your other opponents. I'm going to call you on it next time we meet.
"I'm going to get something to eat," Hikaru announced to the room, pushing his seat back so that one of the other pros could take his place. His chair was taken almost immediately. He moved to one side and stretched muscles in his back and shoulders. There was a kink at the base of his neck that came whenever he was tense and concentrating too hard. Usually he only got it during games. Somehow, it didn't surprise him that it also seemed to appear when he was watching Touya.
No one noticed as he opened the door to leave, everyone still too wrapped up exploring the varying possibilities of the game. That was fine by him. He wandered down the hall of the Go Institute digging into his pockets. I hope I have some money.
"Excuse me?"
"Huh?" Hikaru said as he looked up. There was a man standing there in a brown suit, his face shiny with sweat. His hair looked disheveled and huge bags were under his eyes. "Can I help you?"
"I was wondering if you could tell where Touya Akira is playing?" The man pushed his glasses up his nose nervously. He gave a weak smile. "I seem to have gotten lost."
"Sure. You need to go up one floor and to your right. I think he might still be discussing the game," Hikaru said. He pointed towards the elevator for added emphasis.
"Ah. So he hasn't left the room yet. But you say he's done playing? Good, good. Thank you for your help." The man bowed to Hikaru before hurrying down the hall. Hikaru watched him go.
"What a weirdo," Hikaru muttered as he put some coins into the vending machine and punched the buttons to his selection. I wonder why he seemed so happy that Touya was done playing but hadn't left yet. It doesn't make sense.
The thump of something sweet and sugary hitting the bottom of the vending machine broke Hikaru's thoughts. He fished the package out, looked at the label, and suddenly wasn't hungry. That guy in the suit bothered him.
"I don't like it," Hikaru said to no one in particular. He stuffed the food into his pocket. "I think I'm going to go follow him."
Hikaru raced towards the stairs, intent on getting to the next floor before the elevator reached it and catching the guy before he found Touya.
Touya was finding it harder to leave than he though it would be. People kept stopping to talk with him: Go officials or other players wanting to compliment him on his win or ask his opinion on some trivial matter. He was polite, but it was getting ridiculous. If this continued he was going to invent a fictitious appointment just to be able to leave.
Besides, he knew Shindou was waiting for him. Shindou always waited for him after a match. Never in the room or outside in the hall: Shindou waited on the first floor of the Go Institute for Akira. He always had some excuse as to why he was there, but Akira knew the truth. Hikaru was waiting for him.
"Touya-sensei, I wanted to ask you something about the game." Akira put on his politest smile, but it was wearing thin and brittle around the corners. Ogata came to his rescue.
"Touya-kun has other obligations. If you would excuse us?"
"Of course, of course." The man, Akira couldn't even remember his name, bowed. Ogata put a hand on his shoulder, steered him out into the hall, and turned him towards the elevators.
"Thank you," Akira whispered under his breath.
"You're welcome," Ogata replied. "It looked like you needed help. I'm surprised Shindou-kun hadn't come to your rescue already."
Akira gave Ogata a look, narrow-eyed and calculating. Ogata gave him his blandest smile back. "He never comes up here. He'll be down on the first floor."
"Ah." Akira narrowed his eyes even more at Ogata seemingly neutral statement. What are you thinking? You think you know something, Ogata, but I don't know what you think you know that I don't. Sometimes figuring out people was just like figuring out their Go. If you picked up enough of their patterns, you could figure out what they were thinking.
"Touya-san, may I have a word with you?" Akira looked up at this new voice. There was a man standing a few feet in from him, cleaning his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on his nose. Akira frowned. He recognized the nervous man in the business suit. It just took him a few seconds to place where he knew him from.
"Himura-san. I played you yesterday at the palor," Akira stated in a neutral voice. I won against you yesterday. You seemed upset. I would have explained to you how to improve your game, but you left before I could. "What are you doing here?"
"Ah. You remember who I am? Good, good. That will make things much easier." Himura pushed his glasses up his nose in a nervous gesture. Akira hoped that he would not have to shake the businessman's hand. He imagined it was clammy with sweat. "I have something for you, Touya-san."
"I'm sorry, I really don't have time..." Akira began as Himura dug into coat pockets. He never got to finish his sentence. The words died in his throat. Between one moment and the next, Akira was staring down the shaking barrel of a gun.
"I'm sorry, Touya-san," Himura said in a voice that shook slightly. "No one should be that good at Go. No one."
Time seemed to slow down. Akira heard Ogata shout, saw someone else move towards Himura out of the corner of his eye. There was no way anyone was going to get to the businessman in time.
I'm going to die. Akira thought as the barrel of the gun suddenly steadied. I'm going to die. I didn't even get a chance to see Hikaru after the match.
Akira reflected that is was quite possible the most inane last thought ever.
The impact on Akira's left side was completely unexpected. There was a loud bang, the gun going off, and then Akira and someone else were on the floor in a tangle of limbs. Akira landed wrong, felt his wrist bend painfully against the tile as he went down. It didn't give and Akira had to push hard in order to relieve the pressure on it. Pain screamed up his arm.
It took him a few seconds to realize that other than his wrist, he didn't feel hurt. That's not possible. I heard the gun go off. He was only a few feet away. He couldn't have missed me. Am I in shock? Himura was wailing in despair and the sound seemed to mix with the cacophony of everyone talking at once.
"Is everyone okay? Did he..."
"Get that gun away from him. Who let him in..."
"... came out of no where. I think he got shot."
"Touya! Shindou! Someone call an ambulance."
The last voice was Ogata. Akira raised his head, trying to make sense of his words. An ambulance? Was I really shot? And why did he say Shindou? He's not here. He always waits for me in lobby.
Someone was helping him up, untangling him with the dead weight that seemed to pin him to the floor. He still didn't feel hurt. Akira went to push hair out of his eyes only to realize there was blood on his hands and on his shirt. He stared in horror at the sticky red that coated his finger, turning them an obscene shade of sanguine.
"Touya, are you hurt?" Ogata demanded from where he was kneeling on the floor. One of the Go officials had helped him to his feet, and Akira distractedly thanked him.
"I don't... I don't feel hurt. My wrist when I fell..." But landing on his wrist didn't explain the blood. So much blood. If it wasn't his, who's was it?
"Shindou..." Akira whispered before he even looked. Ogata was pressing his jacket against Shindou's head, trying to stop the blood that was pouring out of the wound. The impact I felt. It was Shindou. He pushed me out of the way.
What was he thinking? Anger flooded through him. How could he do this?! We are supposed to play tomorrow. He wanted to laugh at his own thoughts, but didn't dare. He had a feeling that if he tried, he'd wind up crying instead.
"Shindou." Akira dropped to his knees. His hands were shaking, but he wasn't sure if it was anger that caused it. "Shindou! Don't you dare die."
"He can't hear you, Touya-kun," Ogata said. "Press this against the wound to stop the bleeding. I'm going downstairs to wait for the ambulance."
"Okay." Akira pressed bloody hands against Ogata's equally bloody jacket. Ogata stayed just long enough to see that Akira was not going to fall apart, was in fact going to do what he'd been told to do. Then he left.
Akira tried to focus on Hikaru, tried not to notice the amount of blood being absorbed by Ogata's jacket. No amount of dry cleaning is going to fix this.He forced himself to look away, vaguely sickened by his own thoughts, only to see Himura wrestled to the floor. He wasn't important anymore. Himura was no longer a threat. The only thing important now was Hikar... Shindou.
"Shindou..." Akira whispered, as he turned back to him. Blood caked his bangs, and his face was slack and unresponsive. "You can't die. You can't.
Why did you push me out of the way?
"You have to tell me about Sai.
What possessed you to do that? You idiot.
"You haven't beaten me yet. You can't die. You can't."
Not yet, Hikaru. Please. Not yet.