Cat-Hair Fooffies and Fanfic!

Writer's Block: Next stop: Hollywood

2011-04-14T21:45:21Z

A science fiction novel called "Grasp the Stars." I'd like to see Angela Bassett as Rachel Ajmani, Jackie Chan as Wu Jackson, Johnny Depp as Tigre DeFlora, and Hiroki Suzuki (Junes) as Bailey Rye.

Writer's Block: I wanna be just like you

2011-03-11T12:19:54Z

Toru Honda from Fruits Basket!

She never gives up, and she meets every situation with love and humility. I strive to have that kind of compassion and unconditional acceptance of others.

Writer's Block: Time for a reboot

2010-11-13T14:26:25Z

"Courage!"

durffy @ 2009-02-07T17:38:00

2009-02-08T00:06:41Z

最遊記歌劇伝

http://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&sl=ja&u=http://www.animate.co.jp/saiyuki/&ei=lRyOSamBFpzgM_XP2ZQL&sa=X&oi=translate&resnum=4&ct=result&prev=/search%3Fq%3D%25E6%259C%2580%25E9%2581%258A%25E8%25A8%2598%25E6%25AD%258C%25E5%258A%2587%25E4%25BC%259D%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG

Well! The great big ugly link above is to the english "translation" of the Animate page with details on the Saiyuki musical. There's even a link for placing a mail order, which I haven't clicked on yet to see how hard it would be.

But!!! There's a video clip with some footage from the musical!!!! Hiro-kun is nearly unrecognizable as the tough, cool Sanzo. He talks in such a deep voice, too! Very, very different than any other roles I've seen him in. He's such an awesome performer!! Actually, everyone in the cast looks great! I've got to start saving my pennies....

fanfic

2008-09-02T01:17:55Z

Green Paradise

Title: Green Paradise

Author: Durffy

Crossover: Koko wa Greenwood/Saiyuki

Rating: PG, for Sanzo's mouth. No real yaoi, though the usual pairings are there if you squint. Fairly work safe, except whoever catches you reading this will think you're nuts.

Warnings: Possible spoilers for both series. Taking a mildly interesting idea to ridiculous extremes. Unbetaed.

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of these wonderful series, and I intend no copyright infringement. No profit is being made, I'm just having a bit of fun.

Comments: This idea came to me because Suzuki Hiroki, who played the beguiling Shun in the Koko wa Greenwood drama, was also cast as Sanzo in the Saiyuki musical. Also, according to the manga, Hasukawa's nickname in middle school was Son Goku.

Apology: It seemed like a good idea at the time….

Pain streaked through Sanzo's head, and he slowly opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back in a field of short, green grass. A group of strange youths surrounded him, all looking terribly worried. "Shun, I'm sorry," one of them babbled, "I'm sorry. I was tossing the ball to Tochizawa, and my throw went wild, and it hit you, and I'm so sorry."

Warily, Sanzo studied the ring of young faces, but detected no demonic energy or hostile intentions. He slowly sat up and rubbed the back of his head. A sizable bump was forming. The kid had a good arm. A little work on his control, and he'd be even more dangerous.

"Don't move, Shun," another fellow said anxiously. "You might have a concussion."

Irritated by the pointless concern, Sanzo scowled. "Pipe down. I know what a damned concussion feels like, and this isn't it."

There was a small explosion of gasps from the boys, and a flurry of exchanged glances.

Growing even more annoyed, Sanzo looked around for Goku, Hakkai, or Gojyo. One of them needed to intervene soon, or he was going to kill these overly solicitous punks.

Someone whispered, "Where's Hasukawa?" Another whispered back: "He went to get the doctor, since he runs the fastest."

Sanzo started to get up, deciding he'd had enough of being stared at and whispered over, then noticed what he wore.

Instead of his usual priestly robes, his clothing consisted of a pink t-shirt and short pants. He had never worn anything pink his entire life. The pants were a decently neutral shade of sand, but they only hit him mid-calf. He casually smoothed his hands over the pockets. No gun. No sutra. The bad joke was over.

"Where the fuck," Sanzo said with incredible calm, "are my fucking clothes?"

"Um," one of them answered in a quavering voice. "You're wearing them, Shun."

Sanzo turned a bleak gaze to him. "My name," he said, "is not Shun."

Someone in the group giggled nervously.

Sanzo leapt to his feet and turned to face the gang, bracing himself for a fight.

They were all in their teens, from the look of them. All quite clean, adequately fed; and well, if somewhat colorfully, dressed. The field of grass seemed to be some sort of gaming area, and it was surrounded by a gravel track and seating for observers. A tall, concrete building stood in the near distance; too plain to be a palace, too windowed to be a fortress.

A light breeze blew a lock of Sanzo's hair across his face. It was strawberry-blond and far too long. Suspecting some sort of trick, he brushed it back, and realized that it was indeed his hair. But it was not his hair. He stared at his hand. It was not his hand.

His anger evaporated in a sudden chill. Sanzo had no idea of where he was or of how he had arrived. He held himself motionless, his long-honed survival instincts making him slow down, focus, and wait for more clues.

A door flew open on the building, and Goku ran out. The monkey was dressed in the same outlandish style of clothing as the other boys, but Sanzo recognized him by his build, by the raw energy of his moves, by everything about him. He was running towards them fast, his face grim, and the very air seemed to burn before him.

Relief threatened to well up in Sanzo, and he had to fight it back. It wasn't as if he actually needed the help against these little shits. It wasn't as if he was glad to see Goku in the middle of all the insanity.

"Oh, good," said the first kid, "here comes Hasukawa."

Sanzo's nape prickled. That was Goku. He could feel it; could feel it with every drop of his blood.

In the next instant, he noticed that Goku was not wearing the coronet that limited his power. "Oh, fuck."

And then, it was too late. Goku had arrived and seized his shoulders. But instead of tearing him apart, as the unleashed Seitan Taisei would have done, he merely said: "Shun, are you all right?"

Sanzo's mouth went dry. He should have been much taller than Goku, but they were about the same height.

But this kid was Goku. Same unruly hair, same big brown eyes, same stupid expression. He even smelled the same.

Someone had tampered with Goku's memory, it seemed. And someone had transplanted Sanzo's mind into another body. When the responsible party was found, someone was destined for a serious ass-kicking.

One of the kids said: "Hasukawa-senpai, he doesn't remember his name. And he's talking--kind of weird."

Goku's brow puckered as his worry obviously doubled. "Aniki's on his way. We need to get you to the infirmary."

Sanzo tried to keep his tone neutral. "I'm fine. I don't need a doctor."

Stepping to his side, Goku slid a warm and supporting arm around Sanzo's shoulders. "Can you walk? Let's go."

"Of course, I can walk, moron." Sanzo tried to twitch away, but Goku's grip was firm. "And I said I don't need a doctor."

"Who are you calling a moron, moron?" Goku said. He began to march Sanzo toward the building. "Just think of this as payback for all those times you dragged me to the infirmary."

The door to the building opened again, and a young man in a white lab coat rushed out, carrying a black satchel. Clearly, this was the doctor.

Sanzo tamped back his annoyance, and resigned himself to submitting to circumstances for the time being.

He allowed them to take him to the infirmary, where the doctor confirmed that he didn't seem to have a concussion, and that temporary disorientation and amnesia were common after a blow to the head. He was given some tablets of painkiller, which he pretended to swallow. And an ice bag, which he pressed to his head for a few seconds, before tactfully setting aside.

"Take Shun back to the dorm," said the doctor with a reassuring smile. "Once he has supper and a good night's sleep, I'm sure he'll be fine."

Goku groused as he led Sanzo through a park filled with trees and fountains. "I still think we should take you to the hospital."

Sanzo was scanning the passers-by and the surroundings for any hint of demonic energy, or even general malice, but everyone and everything seemed as disgustingly innocent and happy as they appeared. "Say that again," he said, "and I'll kill you."

"Sure you will," Goku scoffed. "You don't even remember your own name."

"Yes, I do."

"You don't remember anything."

"I believe," said Sanzo, "that I remember more than you."

Goku lapsed into a sullen silence, though he continued to walk with his hand resting on Sanzo's shoulder.

The trees gave way to a paved street. Amidst the unremarkable buildings stood a large, wooden house. In spite of its odd paint job, Sanzo found the timbered structure itself pleasing. As they approached the front door, he asked casually: "And here--?"

"--is Greenwood."

Once inside, Sanzo glanced around and deduced that Greenwood was the dormitory that the doctor had mentioned. The interior was old and shabby, but clean. An appetizing aroma drifted through the air, mingling with the scent of warm wood and young men.

"This way," Goku told him, and brought him into a cafeteria filled with long tables. Sanzo carefully followed his lead as they got their trays of food and found a place to sit.

For a moment, Sanzo considered refusing to eat. But the rice and shrimp tempura didn't smell as if they were drugged or poisoned, and he was damned hungry.

Someone piled into the bench across from him and said: "Hey, we've been looking for you guys."

Sanzo jerked his attention up from his plate and found himself staring at Gojyo.

A much younger version of Gojyo. His hair and eyes were a normal color, though, instead of the wine-red shade of a demon half-breed. His hair was much shorter, as well, and his face was unscarred.

But he was Gojyo. Same slouching grace, same manic glint in his eyes, same horseshit attitude. And he swiped one of Goku's shrimp.

"Hey!" yelled Goku. "Knock it off!"

"Aw, you've still got plenty," Gojyo said. "Don't be so stingy."

Calmly, Hakkai sat down beside Gojyo. "Now, now."

Sanzo hid his hands under the table and clenched them into fists to stop the shaking.

Hakkai was also younger, and he had two good eyes. And, aside from the superficial differences in appearance, he was still Hakkai. Same controlled manner of moving, same patient façade, and the same molten core of rage and self-loathing.

"Hey, Shun," Gojyo said cheerfully, "I hear you got hit in the head this afternoon."

Sanzo grunted and forced himself to eat. He needed to get the four of them alone, somehow, and try to get them to remember. The whole thing had to be some sort of hallucination, and they were all trapped in it together.

"Shun?" Gojyo spoke in a more tentative tone. "Are you all right?"

Goku fidgeted. "He doesn't remember his name, Mitsuru-senpai."

"Really?"

Sanzo looked up from his plate to see Gojyo and Hakkai exchange one of their meaningful looks.

Sanzo lifted his teacup to his mouth. "Shove it, you two. We'll talk about this later."

Gojyo stared at him quizzically. Hakkai raised his brows and murmured: "Well, well. This should be interesting."

After a brief silence, Gojyo resumed teasing Goku, taunting him about unfinished homework. Listening as he ate, Sanzo continued to gather information.

Someone wanted them to believe they were all schoolboys, and they had created this mind-trap to carry out their plot. It seemed more than a plan to take the Maten Scripture; otherwise, the mastermind would have taken what he wanted and killed them all while they were helpless.

After the meal, Goku escorted him back to their assigned quarters. It was a small, but pleasantly appointed room, filled with personal artifacts and creature comforts. For the first time, Sanzo caught sight of his current body.

His hair was too long, strawberry blond, and impossibly shiny; and his eyes were no longer blue. His face was young, but still held its original contours. His body was at the gangly stage, without muscle development, but it felt healthy and flexible.

When everyone entered the room, Sanzo closed the door and joined them at a small table in the middle of the floor.

"Okay, Shun," said Gojyo, "spill it."

As an opening, it was good enough. "My name isn't Shun."

Goku made an unhappy noise.

Smiling a little, Hakkai folded his hands in front of him. "Indeed? Then what is your name?"

"I am Genjyo Sanzo."

Gojyo burst into squeaking laughter and laid his head on the table.

"Senpai!!" Goku yelled indignantly. "It's not funny!"

"Ah," Hakkai murmured. He also seemed to be suppressing laughter, though it was difficult to tell. "The legendary priest from the 'Journey to the West' tales?"

Sanzo frowned in thought. Legendary? Tales?

"No!" Goku grabbed his arm. "You're Kisaragi Shun! And I'm your roommate, Hasukawa Kazuya! Don't you remember?"

"You," Sanzo said, "are the one who doesn’t remember, Seitan Taisei Son Goku."

Gojyo howled with laughter and pounded his fist on the table. "Oh, that's too good. That's perfect!"

Goku crunched his eyebrows together in obvious anger and confusion. "Who told you about that? That was my nickname in middle school, and I hated it!"

"M-m-monkey!" Gojyo stammered, gasping for air between belly laughs. "Suka-chan's a monkey!"

"Don't call me a monkey!"

"Then how 'bout monkey-chan?"

Sanzo pointed at him. "And you are Sha Gojyo."

The laughter stopped. "Eh?"

"Shun," Goku said uncertainly. "He's Ikeda Mitsuru. He's not a kappa." He paused, and a slight smile softened his knotted brow. "Even though he looks like one."

Gojyo's eyes widened dangerously. "Ehhhh?! What did you just say, monkey?"

"Kappa!"

"Monkey!"

Hakkai smiled very pleasantly. It was an unpleasant sight. "I see," he said in a horribly calm manner. "That makes me the disgusting pig-demon, Cho Hakkai."

Sanzo had no idea what he was talking about. "You weren't a pig-demon, and you weren't disgusting." He had been counting on Hakkai, he realized. He needed his help to get the others to wake up to reality. "Damn it, don't you remember anything?"

Hakkai gazed deeply into his eyes, as if measuring Sanzo's soul for a new set of robes. "Perhaps you could tell me a bit more about myself? It seems as if the old fairy story isn't accurate as handed down to us."

Sanzo drew a breath to speak, then thought about what to say. Hakkai carried terrible wounds in his psyche. Best to start with something fairly pleasant, or Hakkai wouldn't want to come back to reality. "You were roommates with Gojyo."

"I still am."

"You have a small, white dragon named Hakkuryu."

"How…cute."

"It turns into a jeep."

Hakkai raised one eyebrow. "Indeed?"

Frustrated, Sanzo turned to Gojyo. "And you--you're nothing but a hellion. A drinking, smoking, fighting, womanizing--"

Gojyo interrupted with a whoop of laughter. "Sounds like fun!"

"--demon half-breed."

Gojyo was laughing so hard, that he clearly had trouble speaking. "H-h-hey, don't I have any bad qualities?"

Determined to break through the hilarity, Sanzo answered quietly. "You have scars on your face, from the time your mother tried to murder you."

"Scars?" Gojyo stopped laughing and stared at him in surprise. "Hey, my face doesn't scar. I'll show you." He gestured to Goku. "Grab the letter opener off your desk, and I'll give a demonstra--"

"No!" Hakkai and Goku said in unison.

Trying to decide his next course of action, Sanzo folded his arms and closed his eyes. There had to be some way to snap them out of their dreaming.

Goku spoke hesitantly: "Shun? Does your head hurt?"

Sanzo looked at him. "Is this place really that much of a paradise? Isn't there anything I can say to wake you up to reality?"

Goku gazed back at him, scowling in worry.

"You are," Sanzo said, "the only unique entity. Born from the earth itself. More than a demon, less than a god. Caged below a mountain for five hundred years until I heard your voice, I freed you, and I brought you out into the sun. Don't you remember?"

A keen expression of understanding formed on Goku's face. "Ah!" He pounded his fist into his hand. "Cherrywood!"

"Ah!" echoed Gojyo. "That would explain it."

"No," said Sanzo through gritted teeth. "It doesn't explain anything. What the hell are you talking about?"

"We have," Hakkai said calmly, "experienced something like this before. Our Hasukawa was transported, body and soul, into another universe. Greenwood was called Cherrywood, and we were all girls."

"Yeah." Gojyo grinned. "Suka-chan from Cherrywood was so cute!"

"I'd say," Hakkai continued, "that what occurred in this instance was an exchange of souls."

Sanzo considered it. It explained why no one had attempted to kill him, or why anyone would go through the trouble of setting up such an elaborate hallucination to steal the scripture. "Suppose that's true," he said. "Then where is your friend, Shun, now?"

"In your body, I presume." Hakkai tilted his head, looking thoughtful. "I hope your companions won't cause him harm, once they realize what's happening."

Sanzo grunted. "They might." He stood up and looked down at the serious young man in front of him. "What's your name?"

"Tezuka Shinobu."

Sanzo glanced at each of them in turn. "Tezuka, Ikeka, Hasukawa, let's go. I have a mission to finish."

"Go?" Hasukawa stared up at him in bewilderment. "Go where?"

"Back to that field." Sanzo headed for the door. "If we can re-create the conditions that brought me here, then--"

Without warning, the door burst open. Since he was leaning to reach for the knob, the door slammed directly into his forehead.

The red-hot pain was followed by an inner flash of white light, and Sanzo felt himself floating away. In the far distance, a young man said: "Hey, Shun! I came to apologize again for hitting you with--Oh, no!!"

***

Sanzo rolled into a crouch and pressed both hands to his forehead. "Shit! Piss! Fuck! Damn!"

Goku shouted in his ear: "Sanzo! You're back!"

"Shut up!" Sanzo shouted back, and squeezed his eyes shut against the throbbing pain. "My head fucking hurts!"

Hakkai laughed indulgently. "Sanzo certainly expresses himself plainly, does he not?"

"Aw, man," Gojyo drawled, "we've got that stinkin' priest back? I liked Shun better."

Reluctantly, Sanzo opened his eyes. They were all gathered in the shade of an abandoned farmhouse. Nothing else to see for miles around except sand and scrub grass; just more desolation wrought by the minus wave.

Sanzo glanced up at Hakkai. "So he was here, huh? The kid."

Hakkai nodded. "He was terribly afraid, but he seemed to know right away what had happened."

Sanzo grunted, not wanting to admit that he had been a little slow on the up-take. He fished his Marlboros out of his pocket and lit one up. The first deep drag seemed to ease the pain behind his eyes. Shit, I needed that.

"Hey, Sanzo," Goku said hesitantly. "Shun said he came from a place called Greenwood. What was it really like?" Then clearly realizing how wistful he sounded, he toughened his tone. "I mean, he made it sound like some kind of paradise."

Sanzo savored another lungful of nicotine before answering. "I suppose it was."

"He said--" Goku was obviously still trying to sound skeptical--"that I was just like one of his friends."

"You are." Sanzo frowned at Goku thoughtfully, thinking of Hasukawa's loyal and affectionate nature. If Goku had never suffered, had never been stripped of his freedom or memories, he might have turned out just like his double at Greenwood. "He was a stupid monkey, too."

Goku gazed earnestly into Sanzo's eyes. "Do you think…we'll ever get a chance to go there? All four of us?"

We don't fucking belong in paradise. But Sanzo couldn't bring himself to say it, because he almost wanted to visit there again; if only to introduce that entirely too willowy version of himself to a weight room. "Who knows?"

"Oh." Goku seemed downcast.

Sanzo reached out and laid his hand on top of Goku's head. "Hey," he said. "There no point in thinking about going to paradise, is there?"

Hakkai donned one of his gentlest smiles. "That's right, Goku. Aren't we going somewhere else?"

"Yeah," Gojyo chimed in, leaning a casual elbow on Hakkai's shoulder. "In pretty much the opposite direction of paradise."

Goku glanced at Hakkai and Gojyo, then suddenly grinned at Sanzo. "Yeah." A ferocious, yet mischievous light burned in his brown eyes. "Hell, yeah! We're going to the west!"

love is expensive!!!

2008-08-31T02:30:27Z

::sighs:: Well, it's official. I'm broke.

Why?

Because in a mad rush of passion for Suzuki Hiroki, I bought the 'Fuma no Kojiro' musical DVD and both 'Here is Greenwood' DVDs.

My bank account went "meep?" and died.

Do I care? Not yet. I might be living in a box under a bridge this winter, but I'll have those DVDs!!

My biggest worry is that I won't be able to afford the 'Saiyuki' musical DVD when it comes out. Hopefully, I'll have a few months to recover....

Here is Greenwood/Koko wa Greenwood

2008-07-27T22:31:22Z

Figured I'd just slip in a quick recommendation for one of my all-time, best beloved stories.

Koko wa Greenwood was written/illustrated by the genius mangaka, Nasu Yukie. And, now, it has its own live-action series! If you're looking around for something a little different, you might want to give this a try.

Unsubbed episodes are appearing on places like veoh, and if you're familiar with the manga and anime, you can understand a large part of what's happening. If you're not familiar with the series, DoReMii fansubs has it listed as an upcoming project, so the wait shouldn't be too long. ^_^

Most of the old fansites from back in the day are gone, but here are a couple of old favorites if you're a little curious.

http://imogirl.50megs.com/
Good background information for fanfic writers, and some awesomely witty commentaries.

http://www.jeddy.org/mist/
Also lots of fun, though I'm not sure all the links still work.

Just thinking about the old days makes me feel nostalgic--when I'd run home from work, fire up the computer, and forget about everything else while searching for new translations, fic, fanart, and fangirl squee on the mailing lists.

::sigh:: Such happy times....

But don't think you have to be an old fan to get into the fandom. The live action series is beautiful, and can be enjoyed on its own merits. The director seem to love filming our boys on their daily walks to class, against parklike background of green trees and silver fountains. (And the boys are worth checking out! There's something for just about everyone. Do you like them intellectual and cool, with an aura of danger? How about the devious playboy/conartist? The gender-bending type with hair down to his butt? Or the athletic little firecracker with the unstoppable right hook?)

Sound like fun? Consider joining this comm, okay? ^_^

http://community.livejournal.com/greenwoodfans/

durffy @ 2008-04-10T16:26:00

2008-04-10T21:45:26Z

Oh, wow. Some horrible witch just flamed me for my Sahari's Shrine post! Told me to "seek help"! Suggested that the Yaoi Shrine "ruined" little girls' lives.

My gosh, people are really sick, aren't they? They'll attack *anyone* for the sake of "morality." But I can't help but see it as a cheap excuse to be vicious.

I wonder if this is the crazy lady who was involved in persecuting Sahari into taking down her shrine?

Wow. I wonder if this crazy flamer person will try to get me banned from LJ? He/She seems just nutty enough to be that vindictive.

I've now turned off the feature that allows anonymous posts, but I'm leaving the crazy comment there for others to read and comment upon. I will, of course, delete more comments that attack me. This is MY journal, dammit! And I refuse to allow myself to be attacked on it! I get enough crap in real life, I don't need fascist morality jammed down my throat here.

And I still say "THANK YOU, SAHARI!" And I'll add: "GOD BLESS YOU, SAHARI!"

All this makes me want to post more and more about how yaoi came to my rescue!

Saiyuki catch-up

2008-04-10T11:44:41Z

I'm a huge Saiyuki fan, but I hadn't seen everything available. So last weekend I watched Gunlock on YouTube. (Mild spoilers to follow) I can't say it was my favorite. Hazel wasn't appealing to me, and he seemed too weak to be *that* much of a challenge.

There were some good moments with our boys, however. I loved Goku's angst over the killing he had to do. And I loved the moment when he asked Sanzo what he'd do if Goku ever lost his sense of self.... Very cool.

Last night I watched the first and second Burial ova's. OMG!!!! I thought I was in love with Koumyou before this, but now I'm a slobbering outta-control lust monkey! Oh, my nearly forty, ponytail-wearing, sanzo babe!!! I loooooove you!!!

I didn't see the third OVA on YouTube, but it was getting late. I'll check around tonight to see if I can locate it, or find out when it's available.

fanfiction: Return of the Go Master, Part III

2007-07-02T22:59:22Z

Title: Return of the Go Master

Rating: probably PG for imagined nudity and boy-boy kissage

Warning: maybe not work safe. Why chance it?

Disclaimer: I don't own this series, and I intend no copyright infringement

PART III

Hikaru was still smiling when he opened his eyes to another lucid dream. He was back in his old room at his parents' house, lying on his old bed. The goban sat in its usual spot in the center of the floor, and Sai was waiting beside it.

"Oh, wow." Filled with nostalgia, Hikaru sat up and looked around at his childhood books and toys. "I know I'm dreaming, because this place is now a sewing room."

Sai's eyes widened. "Eh? Then where do you sleep?"

Chuckling, Hikaru got up, crossed to the goban, and took his place. "I have my own apartment these days." He studied the layout of the stones, and immediately recognized it as the last time he had played Sai. A lump began to form in Hikaru's throat. "Oh…this game."

Sai lowered his gaze. "I want to finish it."

"I want to finish it, too." Hikaru's voice shook a little, and he had to swallow before he trusted himself to speak again. "It's still your move."

"Yes…." Sai tentatively reached for the cask of stones, brushed it with his fingertips, then picked it up. "How…useful…."

"You can touch things?" Hikaru gripped the edge of the goban in surprise. "And move them?"

Sai spoke quietly: "Only in your dreams."

"Oh." Hikaru settled back on his knees and took a steadying breath. "It's just that…before…when I found you asleep, and I--" He stopped himself just in time. Crap. He didn't want to remind Sai of the kiss. "--I could touch things. Like now." He ran his fingers along the polished top of the goban, then stirred the stones in the cask. Every sense was as clear as when he was awake. "I can feel things."

Sai turned his face away. "Hikaru. It's not real."

"Yes, it is!" In a combination of elation and exasperation, Hikaru reached over the board and clutched Sai's hand in both of his. "I can feel you! I can touch you! Your hand is warm!"

"I'm dead. You need to remember that. Sometimes, I have to remind myself of that, too." Sai paused and seemed to search for words. "It's…just your imagination."

"The hell it is!" Sai's hand was more than warm; it was also rough. Curiously, Hikaru traced the contours of Sai's palm. "Why so calloused?"

"Sword training. I used to practice several hours a day."

"You see!" Hikaru said triumphantly. "I didn't know that. So I couldn't have imagined it!" He pressed Sai's hand against his cheek. "I'm so happy you're back. I've missed you so much!"

"Don't, Hikaru." Sai kept his face turned away; his voice was very soft and filled with distress. "Please…."

Flinching inwardly, Hikaru released Sai's hand. He wondered why the hell he was so touchy-feely all of a sudden. Sai was bound to think he was gay or something. Oh, wait. He was gay. And he had just confessed to Touya. "Does it bother you?" Hikaru asked slowly. "That I'm in love with a guy?"

Sai spoke after a long pause. "No."

"You sure about that? You seem…bothered…by the 'guy-guy' thing."

Sai finally looked at Hikaru and smiled weakly. "Why should something like that trouble me? During my life, I had many lovers--both men and women."

"Oh." Hikaru tried to find more to say. "Wow."

"'Wow'?" Sai echoed, then his smile turned warm and real. "No, Hikaru, I am not 'bothered' by your love for Touya-kun. I'm only sad that I've missed so much of your life. And now, you're a grown man, and I feel…just a little shy with you."

Hikaru steeled himself and took a deep breath. "Was it 'cause I kissed you?"

Sai's cheeks turned a marvelous shade of fuchsia, but he raised his brows and spoke in a haughty tone. "Kissed me? Hikaru, what are you talking about? I don't recall any such thing ever happening." He selected a stone from his cask and placed it on the board with a decisive click. "You must have been dreaming."

Hikaru drew a breath to argue, then realized that the move had killed his middle and was threatening his lower left. "Oh, crap!"

Sai's gaze turned fierce. "And, now, it is your move."

Since Sai seemed unwilling to discuss touching, kissing, and loving, Hikaru readily focused his thoughts on the board.

***

Sai won, of course. It was a game Hikaru had reluctantly begun five years ago, so it was as if he played with a heavy handicap. "I want another game. I'll show you how strong I am, now."

Sai peered at him over his opened fan, and a predatory light burned in his eyes. "Yes, Hikaru. Don't hold back."

***

On their second game, Sai annihilated him.

It was as if Sai had spent the last five years playing and growing in strength as well. Hikaru had played skillfully, and he was not ashamed of his game, but it had been a long time since he had been defeated by eighteen moku.

"Ohhh, Hikaru," Sai said in wonder, "you're a very strong player now!"

"Yeah. Right. Let's play again."

***

On their third game, Sai pulverized him.

"Hikaru," Sai said tentatively, "would you like to put down four or five stones?"

"No. I would not. Please hurry up and choose for color."

***

On their fourth game, Sai decimated him.

Hikaru groaned and slapped his hand over his forehead. "I can't believe this! I'm a five-dan, and you're walking all over me!"

"Maybe you're too tired to play now," Sai suggested. "Or your tummy hurts from the operation?"

"No. I'm fine. Let's play again." But Sai's words had sparked his curiosity, and he pulled up his shirt to look at his stomach. It was bandaged, just as it would be in real life. He touched the gauze gently and was rewarded with a twinge of not-quite-pain. "Hm. That's weird. It only hurts a little."

"That's because this is a dream, Hikaru."

"Yeah, but if this is a dream, I shouldn't feel anything."

Sai pressed his folded fan to his chin and spoke thoughtfully: "But you're still alive, right? I, myself, have no physical sensations at all—but then, I am dead."

"No, you're not!" Hikaru, surprised by his own vehemence, paused and cleared his throat. "I mean, you're still alive in some ways. You still think, you still have your memories and emotions, you still have your Go."

"Thank you," Sai said unsteadily. "Thank you, Hikaru…."

"And, just wait 'til I'm out of the hospital. I have my own computer at my place, so you can play all the Internet Go you want."

"Ehhh?" Sai brightened. "Really?"

"Really." Hikaru grinned. Sai was so adorable when he was happy. "I'll get Touya to help, and he's pretty smart, so we won't have the same problems we did last time."

Sai nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes! I'm sure Touya-kun will be a clever ally!" A new thought seemed to occur to him, and his expression clouded with worry. "Was it really a good idea to tell Touya-kun about me?"

"Sure. He didn't seem to have any problem believing me, and that's what freaked me out the most." Hikaru rubbed the back of his head and chuckled, wanting Sai to smile again. "And if he starts thinking it over and has doubts, all we need to do is have him play you. There's no way he can mistake my Go for yours--you're so much stronger than me. So don't worry about anything." He gave Sai a thumbs-up sign. "Okay?"

Beaming, Sai returned the gesture. "O-kaaaay!"

***

Akira dashed into the hospital lobby. He was breathless and stressed from a day in which nothing had gone quite according to plan. The Institute's administrators had been surly and uncooperative regarding his wish to assist Hikaru with rescheduling his matches. Then his game with Kurata had taken three times longer to play than expected, only to end in defeat. Then the post-game discussion dragged on for more than two hours. Then Weekly Go wanted an interview. And during all that time, Akira fretted about getting back to the hospital before visiting hours ended.

He loves me. Loves me!! Need to tell him how I feel.

Akira knew exactly what he wanted to say. It was a speech he'd recited in his heart every night, as he hopelessly dreamed of Hikaru accepting his love.

But the dream had come true, and now he would finally speak aloud the words that compared their quest for the Hand of God to their future life of love.

Akira darted onto an elevator and slammed his palm on the button for the second floor. The doors to the elevator glided closed, and it began a smooth ascent. "As we search together," he muttered, "for the ultimate goal--"

The elevator stopped. Akira launched himself through the doors before they were completely opened. As we search together…

Akira strode down the hallway and burst into Hikaru's hospital room.

Flowers and balloons covered nearly every available surface. Hikaru was sitting up in bed, studying a layout on his magnetic go board. He glanced up and grinned as Akira charged over the threshold. "Hey, Akira! Glad you made it! Everyone else took off about half an hour ago, so it's just you 'n' me."

It was the very first time Hikaru had called him by his given name, instead of 'Touya.'

Shocked, Akira felt his tongue paste itself to the roof of his mouth. But Hikaru was clearly so pleased to see him that he forced himself to reply: "Hello…Hikaru." He felt his face turn warm, from the familiarity of using a given name. "Sorry I'm late."

Hikaru flapped his hand. "No sweat, no sweat. We've got plenty of time to talk. Waya told me that your game with Kurata ran long. Half a moku, huh? That sucks."

"It was disappointing, yes." Feeling that it was awkward to continue standing, Akira settled himself into the nearest bedside chair, deposited his briefcase beside the chair, and loosened his tie just a little. "But I'll do better next time."

"You look tired. Wish I could offer you a drink."

"I'll be fine, now that I'm here with you." Akira hadn't really meant to say all that out loud. Even if it was exactly true, it sounded cheesy. He quickly added: "How are you feeling?"

"Great!" Hikaru actually looked 'great', too. "I want to go home. Usually, I guess, appendectomy patients get to check out after an overnight stay. But my doctor says they may need to keep me a little longer to run some tests. He's worried 'cause they almost lost me on the table. But maybe--just maybe--they'll set me free tomorrow afternoon."

Akira recalled how Hikaru had appeared that morning. Only his goofy grin and shock of bleached hair had identified him; his face had been an unhealthy shade of pale, and his features had been stamped with exhaustion and the after-effects of pain. "I'm glad the hospital's being careful," Akira said. "I don't want to lose you."

"Yeah, well, it still ticks me off that--" Hikaru stopped abruptly. His cheeks turned pink, and his eyes began to shine. "Eh? What did you say?"

"I said: 'I don't want to lose you.'"

"I heard what you said."

"But you--" Akira's gaze fell upon the layout of stones on Hikaru's magnetic go board, and he forgot what he'd planned to say. The playing style was unmistakable. "That game…."

"Yeah," Hikaru said glumly. "I don't need to tell you who's winning, do I? Sai's beating the socks off me."

Akira visually devoured the board. Hikaru seemed to be putting up a valiant fight, but Sai was clearly the stronger player. Then, belatedly, he realized the full import of the game. Akira gasped and yanked his attention to Hikaru. "He's here? In this room? Sai?"

"Yeah." Hikaru calmly jerked his thumb toward the empty space on the left side of the bed. "Standing right here."

Good breeding won out over surprise or disbelief. Akira started from his chair and made a deep and courteous bow. "An honor."

"Sai says the honor is all his." Hikaru paused, then gave a snort of laughter. "Okay, okay, I'll ask him. Sheesh!"

Nervously wondering how to politely request a game with Sai, Akira resumed his seat. "Ask me what?"

Grinning broadly, Hikaru started clearing the magnetic board. "Sai is hoping you're not too tired to play a game with him." He darted a mischievous glance at Akira. "He reeeeeally, reeeeeally, reeeeeally wants to play you! He's been asking all day about--" He broke off and laughingly threw an arm over his head, as if fending off blows. "Hey, watch it with the fan, already!"

Excitement bloomed in Akira's mind. "Of course I'm not too tired!" he said eagerly. "I'd consider it a privilege to play Master Sai."

"Cool. Pull your chair closer." Hikaru shifted the board to within Akira's reach. "Sai offers to play white; and, trust me on this, you'd better take him up on it."

Akira swallowed the urge to protest. "Very well."

Hikaru watched the empty air to his left for a few moments, then turned to Akira. "Onegai-shimasu."

His heart seemed to rise into his throat, but Akira echoed: "Onegai-shimasu."

***

After a prolonged and desperate battle, Akira had to bow in defeat. "I've lost."

Hikaru studied the board, his face rapt. "Wow, you guys. That was a seriously awesome game."

Akira felt the perspiration running in rivulets down his sides. He vividly recalled his internet game with Sai, and realized that he was still inadequate to the challenge. "I never had a chance. Master Sai overwhelmed me from the beginning." He pointed at the uppermost part of the board. "I tried connecting here, because it was the only defense I could manage."

"Mmm." Hikaru glanced to the left and nodded. "Yeah." He turned to Akira. "Sai says you've grown a lot stronger, and he enjoyed the game, and he hopes you'll play him again soon."

In spite of his personal apprehension, some part of Akira's soul began to sing in celebration. "I'd be glad to." He forced his voice to remain steady. "I've learned a great deal from this match. Thank you very much."

"He says that he should be the one thanking you." Hikaru grimaced comically. "I'm totally not a challenge for Sai. I always feel like a little french-fry dropped into a pot of boiling oil."

It was such an apt description, that Akira chuckled before he could stop himself. "Master Sai is an incredible player."

"Yeah." Eyes shining, Hikaru smiled at the air to his left. "I'm so happy now! The only thing that would make it perfect would be if you guys could see and talk to each other." He turned to Akira. "You're missing a treat. 'Cause Sai is as beautiful as his go."

Trying to phrase it politely, Akira murmured: "I'd be less than honest if I said I wasn't curious about Master Sai's appearance."

"Well," Hikaru said, "he used to teach go to a Heian emperor, so he's dressed like a courtier. White robes and stuff, with one of those tall hats. And his hair is super long; it goes all the way to the floor."

Remembering his history lessons, Akira tilted his head. "Ah, then Master Sai is still only a young boy, since he hasn't yet had his head shaved?"

"Uh…" Hikaru appeared to listen for a few moments, and a sad expression settled over his face. "Didn't work though, did it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Huh? Oh. Sai says his grandpa wouldn't let him cut his hair. He thought that if Sai still looked like a little kid, then maybe he wouldn't become a target for jealousy at court. You know, politics and stuff." Hikaru's sadness seemed to deepen, and he gestured wearily. "Bad shit happened to Sai. It majorly sucked, but I don't really want to go into details right now."

Though Akira was eaten alive by curiosity, he said: "Perhaps…another day."

"Yeah." Hikaru's face brightened again. "But getting back to Sai--he looks about eighteen, and--" He paused. "Eh? Oh, almost nineteen. And he's got all this long, silky hair. And his face is really, really pretty. His eyelashes are like--whoa!--and his lips are the color of orchids, and his--" He broke off with a yelp of laughter and seemed to try dodging a ghostly fan again. "Hey, I'm only telling the truth! You don't have to--" Hikaru wilted a little. "Oh, crap! He left."

"What?" Akira bolted to his feet. "He left?"

"Not for good," Hikaru said hastily. "I can still feel him inside my consciousness. But he sometimes just sorta 'goes to his room.' Usually when he wants to give me privacy--like when I take a leak or whatever."

Akira sighed with exasperation. "Well, you were embarrassing him! All that talk about his eyes, and how beautiful he is, and--"

Hikaru's eyes sparkled. "Are you jealous?"

"That's not the point! What I'm saying is--"

"You're beautiful, too, you know. And I love you. A lot." A wash of pink spread across Hikaru's cheeks. "I…uh…sorta saved myself for you."

Several things happened to Akira all at once. He felt as if the temperature in the room shot up about thirty degrees. At the same time, he had the sensation that someone was trying to smash a brick through his chest. And over it all, his brain replayed his favorite nighttime fantasy: 'One Thousand and One Things to Do to an Innocent, Virginal, and Willing Shindou Hikaru.' Akira tried to speak, to say one of the lines from the declaration of love he had ready. But the noise that came out sounded a bit like: "Glirk."

"So? Do you love me or not?" Hikaru's blush spread up past his eyebrows, but he was smiling. "Time to 'fess up."

Akira couldn't help but return the smile. And, just as abruptly as it came, the heat and panic vanished. He felt no nervousness or sense of hesitation, only an absolute happiness. "Of course, I love you." Abandoning his well-rehearsed speech, he leaned forward and took Hikaru's hand. "I believe I have always loved you."

"Cool." Hikaru's voice turned husky and warm. "Then I guess you'd better kiss me, huh?"

Akira felt a slight touch of scandalized shock. Not because he didn't want to kiss Hikaru, but because they were in a relatively public place. A nurse, or a visitor from the Institute, could walk in at any moment.

He began searching for the words to explain why it might be better to wait, when Hikaru abruptly tightened his grip on Akira's hand and yanked him halfway onto the bed. Akira didn't even have time to draw a startled breath to protest.

Hikaru's lips found his.

Akira lost himself in the softness and sweetness of Hikaru's mouth. His world changed completely, and all those stupid love songs on the radio finally made sense. Akira slid his free hand into Hikaru's hair. It felt like heavy satin, stubbornly thick, with a tactile shine.

Hikaru moaned, and then slowly drew back from the kiss. "Okay," he said, panting. "I'm getting a little too turned on."

Akira also felt the tightening in his groin. He wanted, more than anything, to be alone with Hikaru, naked, in a big bed, with hours of time for tender passion. But that would have to wait. He cupped Hikaru's cheek and gave him a quick, chaste kiss; then reluctantly released him. "I understand." He slowly straightened. "But I want you. I hope you realize that."

His eyes bright with obvious desire, Hikaru nodded, still breathing hard. "And I want you, too. I want--I want--" He gestured helplessly. "I wanna kiss every square millimeter of your body, and drink sake out of your bellybutton, and--and--"

Akira burst into startled laughter. "You want to do what?"

"I'm serious," Hikaru continued breathlessly. "I'll do anything you want. Anything."

"Really?" Akira felt his body turn hot again. "Are you sure? Because the list is pretty long."

"I don't care! I'm tired of waiting for--"

There was a soft knock on the door, and then a nurse entered. She bowed, looking a bit uneasy. "Excuse me, but visiting hours are over for today."

Startled, Akira glanced at his watch and saw that he had over-stayed twenty minutes past the time limit. The game with Sai must have taken longer than he'd realized. "Thank you," he said to the nurse, and also bowed. "I'm sorry, I'm just leaving."

Hikaru made a noise like a disappointed little kid. "Aww, do you gotta go? You just got here!"

Akira smiled inwardly, knowing that under the exaggerated petulance, Hikaru was truly unhappy to see him leave. "I'll come back tomorrow," he promised, gathering up his briefcase. "I don't have anything on my schedule, so I'll be at your disposal all day."

Hikaru folded his arms and looked cross. "You damn-well better be!"

Akira walked toward the door. "Get some sleep."

"Yes, mother."

Succumbing to the urge for gentle revenge, Akira paused on the threshold and tossed a sultry look over his shoulder. "I'll stop on the way home and buy a bottle of good sake." He placed his hand over his navel and added: "For later…."

Halfway down the hallway, Akira could still hear Hikaru make choking sounds of stifled laughter.

Fanfic: Return of the Go Master

2007-03-05T03:02:13Z

Title: Return of the Go Master, Part II
Rating: probably G
Disclaimer: I don’t own this series, and I intend no copyright infringement

Notes: Thanks to my cool and erudite friend, The Seeker, for making sure I dotted all the “i’s” and crossed all the “t’s.” And for suggesting the use of {{braces}} to indicate silent communication between Sai and Hikaru.

Durffy: Should I warn them that there aren’t any “sticky bits” in this chapter yet either?
The Seeker: Yes, I think you should.
Durffy: Do you think they’ll still read it?
The Seeker: …….

Return of the Go Master

Part II

Akira sat bolt upright on his bed, shocked out of sleep by the sound of someone screaming his name.

He found himself alone in his bedroom.

It was still dark outside. Akira wiped his sweating forehead with the back of his hand and glanced at the digital alarm clock on his bedside table. It was 1:39 in the morning. Sighing, he settled his head on the pillow again. “Just a dream,” he muttered. “Forget it.”

The scream had sounded like Shindou Hikaru, crying out in pain and fear. And it had seemed so real, as if Shindou called to him for help from within the room.

Akira’s pulse was still racing, but he told himself that the brain could play a lot of strange tricks in one’s sleep. He had probably heard something from outside, like a birdcall, or a dog barking. It was nothing.

He closed his eyes, then a new thought occurred to him, and he sat up again. Maybe it was Shindou. Maybe he was outside, perhaps drunk, and howling to be let in because he had locked himself out of his apartment.

Akira climbed out of bed and hurried through the dark house. He wanted to open the gate before Shindou felt obliged to disturb the neighbors again.

Torn between worry and vexation, Akira slipped out the front door barefoot and in his pajamas. He padded down the stone path to the gate and paused with his hand on the latch. “Shindou?”

There was no reply.

Akira slid the gate open and peered out onto the dark and deserted street.

No one was there.

With the nape of his neck prickling, Akira shut the gate. Then he locked it. He hurried back to the house, trying not to think about how strange and creepy the garden seemed at night. When he got inside, he turned on the lights in the front room.

This was like a muttered conversation he had once overheard on a train. One salary-man telling another that he had heard his father call his name at 11 o’clock, only to discover in the morning that his father had passed away at that time.

Akira shuddered, then felt disgusted with his own over-active imagination. “This is stupid,” he said aloud. “There’s nothing wrong with Shindou.”

But instead of returning to bed, he went to the phone and punched in Shindou’s number. Akira didn’t offer himself reasons for his actions, and he didn’t think about how inconsiderate it was to call anyone at such an hour.

When the answering machine picked up, Akira simply pressed the ‘end’ button. “There’s nothing wrong with Shindou,” he repeated fiercely. Then he dialed the number for the hospital Shindou’s family favored, and checked for recent admissions.

Less than three minutes later, Akira sprinted through the gate. Left it open. Unlocked.

He ran through the streets like a wounded animal. His only coherent thought was to get to the hospital, and all other practical considerations were swallowed by a tumult of anxiety and rage. He didn’t want to waste time waiting for a train or trying to catch a taxi. He wanted to get to Shindou Hikaru.

Dawn tinted the sky by the time he arrived at the hospital lobby. His lungs felt like they were on fire. His legs wobbled with fatigue. He barely had enough breath to rasp out the request for a room number to the receptionist. She tried to direct him to the emergency entrance, before he pulled himself together enough to explain that he was not in need of medical help; he was there to visit a friend.

Still looking doubtful, she told him that the room number was 211. And then she reminded him that it was four in the morning. Visiting hours began at ten.

Akira thanked her, and asked if the hospital had a cafeteria. She replied that it was one level down. He thanked her again, crossed to the elevator, and took it to the second floor.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. He supposed he behaved rather badly. Agitated hospital staff threatened to call for security. Akira ignored them, and flung open the door to 211.

***

The door burst open, and Touya Akira exploded into the hospital room.

Hikaru, his mother, and Sai all jumped.

Akira planted himself defiantly near the foot of the bed, panting and glaring, hands clenched into fists. His long hair was a mess. He wore a lime green/electric orange striped pajama shirt half tucked into a pair of black jeans. His jacket was all twisted up in back, so that it was more or less just a pair of sleeves with a short cape.

Hikaru felt as if his heart began to expand and glow. Happened every time he unexpectedly spotted Akira. His grin widened.

{{Ah,}} Sai said, sounding pleased, {{isn’t this Touya-kun?}} He pressed his folded fan to his chin and added: {{My, hasn’t he grown up nicely?}}

His mother looked apprehensive. “Who--?”

Hikaru patted his mother’s hand reassuringly. “You remember Touya Akira, right? He’s my best friend.”

She blinked in confusion, but rose and bowed. “Nice to meet you again.”

Akira also blinked, as if awakening from sleep. He dropped the aggressive posture and returned her bow. “The pleasure is mine,” he said hoarsely. Then he staggered a bit and caught hold of the footboard to steady himself. “I apologize for intruding.”

Hikaru, fearing that Akira would leave, waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” Thinking fast, he continued: “Besides, I was going to ask Mom to call you, anyway. I need you to contact the Institute for me and re-arrange my game schedule.”

His mother’s expression cleared, and she smiled at Akira and bowed again. “Oh, if it’s not too much trouble for you, that would be such a help to me. I’m terrible with that sort of thing.”

At that moment, a uniformed security guard and a grim nurse marched into the room. “Sir,” the guard said to Akira, “I must ask you to leave. Visiting hours don’t begin until ten. If you will come with me now, I’ll take you--”

Hikaru’s mother made a noise like an angry hen. “Excuse me!” She inserted herself between the guard and Akira. “This young man is here because we want him here! Take yourself away!” She pointed at the nurse. “And you! You said ten minutes ago that you’d bring a cup of ice chips for my son, and we’re still waiting!”

The nurse and the guard quailed. Hikaru didn’t blame them. His mother had gone into full-blown scary mode again.

“The staff at this hospital has a lot to answer for!” His mother advanced on the guard and nurse, backing them out the door. “You almost sent my only child away to die in pain! You almost murdered him on the operating table! You unnecessarily bruised his arm with a clumsily placed IV needle! You--" She stopped and turned a sweet smile on Akira. “Touya-san, may I impose upon you to stay with Hikaru while I make phone calls to my husband, my father, and our family attorney?”

Akira stared at her. “Happy to help.”

“Thank you so much.” She turned on her glare again and resumed stalking toward the guard and nurse. “--jostled him on the gurney! You forgot to bring the ice chips! You tried to arrest a family friend who selflessly came so early in the morning to help us with--" She herded them into the hallway and closed the door. Hikaru could still hear her outside.

Akira stared at the door, seeming stunned.

Hikaru giggled. “Mom’s had a bad morning. She’s not usually like that.”

Akira slowly turned his stare to Hikaru. His face was pale; his eyes rimmed with red.

Sai drew close to Akira and peered at him. {{Touya-kun seems ready to collapse. Perhaps you ought to invite him to sit down?}}

Hikaru cleared his throat. “Hey, you look like shit.” He waved to an empty chair. “Grab a seat before you fall, idiot.”

Akira didn’t rise to the insult. He merely stumbled to the chair and fell into it. Sprawled into it, actually, with his head flung back, his eyes closed, his legs out straight, and his flat belly jerking to every panting breath. The dorky pajama shirt almost looked cool, the way it sexily hung out of the waistband of his jeans, and it was conveniently loose enough at the neck to fall revealingly away from his superb throat and collarbone.

Sai crossed to the chair and surveyed Akira from head to foot. {{It would seem,}} he said in a musing tone, {{that Touya-kun has run from some distance.}}

Hikaru silently agreed, the guy had a bad habit of launching into a sprint marathon whenever he wanted to get somewhere fast. Too single-minded for his own good, he thought; then spoke aloud. “Hey, Touya, just how far did you run?”

“From my house.”

Hikaru mentally calculated the distance and decided it was do-able, if you didn’t want to wait for a taxi. “That was dumb.”

“I know.”

Sai looked reproachfully at Hikaru. {{Don’t say things like that! He came here just to see you!}}

{{True.}} Hikaru’s heart began to warm and expand in his chest again. “But thanks for coming,” he added. “Really.”

Akira opened his eyes and looked at him then. “What happened? Why did you need surgery?”

Hikaru felt a moment of confusion. “Huh? Oh.” He pointed at his midriff with his thumb. “Hot appendix.” The confusion flickered into being again. “Thought you knew that. Thought that’s why you were here.”

Akira slowly sat up straight, pulling his limbs into a decent posture. “Admissions only said it was emergency surgery.”

“Oh.” Hikaru found it hard to think. He wondered if the shock of the whole mess was beginning to catch up with him. Or maybe there was a sedative in the IV. “Who told you I was at the hospital?”

Akira seemed to realize his dishabille and pulled his pajama shirt straight and tucked it in. Then he tried to adjust his jacket and had to take it off to get it untwisted.

When he was sure Akira didn’t intend to answer his question, Hikaru injected a note of irritation into his voice. “Touya! Who told you--?”

Akira interrupted. “You told your mother that I’m your best friend.” He paused, then his voice took on an odd note. “ I am?” He didn’t look at Hikaru, but seemed to focus on brushing the wrinkles from his jacket. There was a hint of pink in his cheeks that didn’t seem to have anything to do with the exertion of running ten city blocks. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Hikaru liked the blush. He felt one starting on his own cheeks. “Hell, yeah!”

Akira put his jacket on with elaborate care, still avoiding Hikaru’s gaze, and said: “You’re my best friend, too.”

“Cool.” Hikaru couldn’t help the grin. “Now, Best Friend, stop trying to change the subject and tell me how you knew--"

Akira blurted: “I heard you call my name.”

“Hah?”

{{Ohhhh,}} Sai said wisely. {{That makes sense.}}

{{No, it doesn’t,}} Hikaru said silently. {{What’s he talking about?}}

{{When you died,}} Sai explained. {{That is, when you temporarily died, your soul must have called out to him.}}

Akira’s pink blush had turned crimson. “Sorry. That sounds weird.”

“No,” Hikaru assured him hastily. “Mom says they lost me on the table for about thirty seconds. So, it makes sense.”

Akira gazed at him searchingly. “Does it?”

Fearing he sounded like an idiot, Hikaru flapped his hand dismissively. “Sure, sure. I mean, you hear stories about that kind of thing all the time.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” Akira seemed to relax a little. “I’ve also heard that some people see strange things in a near-death experience. Like a tunnel or…a white light.”

“Well, I sort of saw something. But not exactly a tunnel or whatever.” It was the perfect opening. Relying on his drugged-up state to lend him courage, Hikaru said: “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Well,” Akira said slowly, “I don’t disbelieve in them. I know a few perfectly rational people who are convinced they’ve seen apparitions, or felt the presence of lost loved ones…or…or heard things they couldn’t explain.” His gaze sharpened. “Are you saying that you…?”

Hikaru nodded. “Remember Sai?”

“Of course I remember Sai, you idiot! Sai was--"

“--Sai was a ghost.”

Akira froze.

Hikaru plowed on: “Sai was a ghost who started haunting me--well, lessee--I guess it was just a few days before I met you.” He tried to measure Akira’s reaction, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake in finally confessing the truth. “I know it sounds crazy, but I swear I’m not kidding around. I really--”

“I believe you.” Akira spoke calmly; his expression turned contemplative, and he relaxed a bit more. “In fact, that makes perfect sense of everything.” He curled his hand into a loose fist and pressed his bent forefinger to his chin, clearly reviewing his memories. “That’s why your abilities shifted so dramatically from nearly perfect to absolutely awful. Sai was in possession of your body and--"

“No!” Hikaru interrupted. “Not like that! Sai wasn’t that kind of ghost!”

Akira raised his brows. “Pardon?”

“Sai just told me where to place the stones. He never took over my body.” And since Sai was back, standing right beside Touya, and smiling that sweet smile of his, Hikaru added, “Sai was really kind and patient. Not scary. Gentle, you know?”

Sai’s eyes filled with tears. {{Hikaru,}} he said tremulously, then covered his face with his opened fan.

“He was my constant companion,” Hikaru continued, “until the day he disappeared.”

Akira leaned forward in his seat. “Disappeared?” he repeated. “Was that when--?”

“When I stopped playing. Yeah.”

Sai lowered his fan, his large eyes stretched wide with disbelief and disapproval. {{Ehhhh?!}}

At that moment, the room gave itself a slow, lazy spin. Something in the IV, definitely. “I was grieving,” Hikaru explained to both Sai and Akira. “I’d just lost my beloved big brother, and I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Akira sat motionless for a second, then averted his face. “You could have told me.”

“No, I couldn’t’ve, idiot! Not back then, when you still had a stick up your butt!”

Akira’s lips thinned. “Yes,” he said firmly, pointedly ignoring the jibe. “You could’ve.”

Hikaru giggled. “Oh, so, now you tell me!”

Sai looked distraught. {{Hikaru, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to leave you! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!}}

Hikaru silently urged Sai not to worry about it. {{You’re back now, right?}}

Akira still sat with his head bowed. “If…if you ever need…that is….” He jerked his head up, eyes blazing. “Next time you have something you need to say, promise you’ll tell me.”

Whatever was in the IV seemed to be gaining on him. Hikaru tried to raise his arm, but it felt too heavy. The room revolved again, which was kind of fun, like an amusement park ride. “Okay. Two things to start. First, I’m desperately in love with you, Touya. And second, when I--"

The door opened, and Hikaru’s mother bustled in, followed by a nurse. This was a different nurse than earlier; an older woman with a sympathetic expression, who nodded in an understanding fashion from time to time while his mom rattled on about the traumatic events of the night before.

Akira shot to his feet and bowed.

This struck Hikaru as hilarious for some reason, and he burst into laughter.

“Ah, Touya-san,” his mom said. “Thank you for staying with Hikaru. How is he doing?”

Akira glanced doubtfully toward the bed. “He seems to be a little…peculiar. Is he on a sedative?”

“Hey,” Hikaru protested, “’he’ can hear you.”

His mom crossed to the bed and tidied the blankets. “Then he needs to go to sleep like a good boy, so he can get well.”

The attention was embarrassing, but Hikaru lacked the resolve to protest out loud. Besides, the blankets felt much more comfortable now.

Akira went to the door. “I’ll make arrangements with the Institute. I’m sure there won’t be any problem rescheduling his games."

Hikaru abruptly recalled that he had something important to tell Akira. “Hey, Touya!”

Akira paused and glanced over his shoulder.

It was hard to think, hard to speak, and hard to keep his eyes open, but Hikaru managed to say: “Second thing: Sai’s back.”

Akira’s stunned expression was a delicious sight to fall asleep to. Hikaru succumbed to the sedative with a smile on his lips.

TO BE CONTINUED….

Durffy (bouncing like a puppy): “Was that a good cliffhanger? Was it? Huh? Huh? Huh?
The Seeker (chuckles indulgently)
Durffy: You’re laughing! I’ve never seen you laugh! I didn’t know you could!
The Seeker: Just because you haven't seen it, doesn't mean I can't.

giant fangirl SQUEEEEE!!!!!!!

2007-02-26T23:37:25Z

I have DSL!!! It's a whole new world for me!

I'm downloading the first Angelique OVA right now. I'm so excited, I can hardly stand it!! I get to watch Angelique! It's a dream come true....

I need to go to the store and buy snacks to eat while I watch! This is going to be such a lovely evening!

durffy @ 2007-02-16T06:03:00

2007-02-16T12:09:54Z

Well, it's taken me long enough, but now I know the lovely purpose of the "memories" function! Woo-hoo!!

I've started building my own personal fic archive. Life is good.

AND....I've managed to finally get my Windows XP program to load. So the next step is to install an ethernet card in my pc...and get a CD burner too....

Once those things are done, I'll sign up for DSL. It's so great that my ISP has a special new subscription rate. (I can afford it!! I hope. I foresee many ramen noodles in my future.)

durffy @ 2007-02-10T14:15:00

2007-02-10T14:15:25Z

Still in the afterglow....*happy sigh*

I went to a friend's place last night, and we watched a bunch of Morning Musume. A few videos, but also some TV specials. (I don't know where he finds this stuff. He has DSL--unlike my poor, pathetic, dialup self.)

My favorite video/song was "Sakura Mankai," which has a very traditional sound and look to it. It was sooo beautiful that I got all teary-eyed.

The TV show was called something like "Utabon" or "Utaban." Two comedians torture their guests for an hour, and Morning Musume appears on that. Parts of it were pretty funny, but sometimes they went too far and actually made the girls cry. Granted, the girls were crying because they were scared of large balloons being popped in their faces, but it still made me angry.

But, in spite of that, it was an evening filled with Japanese pop-culture goodness. We finished with a Morning Musume New Year's special, in which the girls hold a kangaroo court and accuse each other of hilarious crimes. For example, little Kago likes to sneak up behind people and scare them. (She was unrepentant, too! "It's fun!")

So, this morning, I'm sipping my coffee and reflecting that I love being a fangirl. I feel so lucky to have found anime, manga, and jpop.

durffy @ 2007-02-09T02:08:00

2007-02-09T02:08:10Z

Tonight, I finished gobbling up the first volume of "Gravitation EX." YUM!!

I guess, before I go any further, I should warn about spoilers. Just in case someone wanders onto my blog for some reason....

First thoughts on the cover. Yuki looks very, very pretty and rather sweet. Shindou--I suppose it's Shindou--seems to have sprouted large breasts. Maybe it's just supposed to be shading on his rock-star costume, but it made me wonder if we would be faced with a female Shindou-look-alike. (No. Thank goodness.)

The story picks up right where it left off, so if you haven't read the first series, you'll be mighty confused. Yuki and Shindou are in New York, where they plan to visit Kitazawa's grave. (Kitazawa is the guy Yuki killed in self-defence.) While there, they find themselves made custodians of Kitazawa's young son, Riku.

This, of course, sends Yuki into a tail-spin. He goes off to walk, smoke, and brood--and is accosted by Ryuichi Sakuma. Sakuma warns him not to mistreat Shindou, or he might lose him. (This was a yummy scene for me. I love Ryu-chan when he drops the goof-ball act and turns all sharp-eyed and dangerous.)

So...Yuki, Shindou, and little Riku go back to Japan. Yuki gets crazier and crazier. He's mean to Riku. Meaner to Shindou.

And Sakuma makes his move.

(Whoa. Another toe-curling scene--though I wish the kiss had taken place in plain sight. We only get to see the back of Shindou's head.)

Anyway, Yuki walks in on Shindou and Sakuma necking. He falls apart in the classic Yuki fashion and disappears.

Shindou is a mess, too, of course. And the press is having a field day with their quarrel.

Little Riku finds Yuki, who rather nastily confesses that he was the one who killed his daddy. Riku runs out in front of a semi. Yuki pushes him out of the way, and Shindou turns up just in time to save Yuki. Although Yuki receives a glancing blow to the head.

Lots of crazy mayhem with the press and insane rescues follow. But it culminates in the revelation that Yuki has lost his sight in the accident.

All this sounds rather grim, but Maki Murakami is still clean out of her mind--and the story is filled with that zany surrealism we have come to expect.

Whew. That's a lot of babble about a manga!

There's supposed to be a second volume. I hope we see more of Hiro in it. (I love Hiro! And K!)

Now, off to look for fic!

durffy @ 2007-02-07T23:31:00

2007-02-07T23:31:58Z

SQUEEEE!!!!!

I came home from work to find my first volume of "Gravitation EX" in the mailbox! More Yuki! More Shindo!! Yummy!!!

I'll devour it tonight...then post more fangirl squealing. Whoo-hooo!!!

Fic: Return of the Go Master

2006-11-11T03:24:30Z

Title: Return of the Go Master, Part I
Rating: probably PG for imagined nudity and boy-boy kissage
Warning: unbeta-ed, and posted by a complete and utter newbie. (EEEK!!)
Disclaimer: I don’t own this series, and I intend no copyright infringement
Summary: Hikaru goes under the knife….

The anesthesiologist peered down at Hikaru. “Very well, Shindou-san, please start counting backward from one hundred.”

Pain lanced through Hikaru’s gut, but he managed to mumble: “’ndred.”

Emergency appendectomy. Something that happens to middle-aged cousins of friends of acquaintances, not to twenty-year-old go professionals, not to Shindou 5-Dan.

It hurt to breathe. But, seized by an irrational fear that they’d start cutting before he was completely under, Hikaru forced himself to inhale deeply. “Nin’y-nine.”

Wouldn’t even make a cool story. Woke up in the night with a high temperature and the stomachache from hell. Called his mom, who had driven him to the hospital. Some snooty nurse had dismissed his condition as flu, but his normally placid and clueless mom had caused a scene. Threatened divine retribution and lawsuits.

Called the nurse a bitch.

On the other hand, maybe it would make a cool story.

“Nin’y….”

The pain swooped down worse than ever. Hikaru rolled onto his side and curled into a ball of misery.

All around him, the tall grass whispered.

“I’m dreaming.” His lips brushed against dirt, and crumpled stalks prickled against his cheek. “But why does it still hurt?”

Hikaru opened his eyes to a vista of grass in shades of brown and rust, and a sunset sky streaked with primrose, tangerine, and teal. “I met Sai in a dream like this.”

The final meeting. A cherished memory he revisited at least once a day.

A faint hope kindled within Hikaru. “Sai?” Clenching his jaw against the pain, he sat up. It seemed he still wore his pajamas; stretched-out sweatpants and a yellow t-shirt. “Sai? Are you here?”

But no ghost in the garb of a Heian courtier appeared. All he saw were gentle hills covered in autumn grasses, rocky outcroppings, and a single leafless tree in the distance. Agony cut through Hikaru’s side, and he folded his arms and doubled forward. “Oh, Kami-sama,” he moaned, “please make the pain go away.”

The only answer he received felt like hot shards of glass though his entrails.

Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. “Am I dead? Am I in hell? Is that why it hurts so bad?”

A cooling breeze ruffled Hikaru’s hair, but the searing pain magnified. It ground at the edges of his sanity. Coherent thought, like diamond grit, fell glittering into a black void.

“Please…please….”

The heavy music of blowing linens joined the whispering chorus of grass. Just behind him. Just inches away.

Hikaru froze, holding his breath, certain he imagined it.

The sound of fluttering fabric continued.

With excruciating effort, Hikaru twisted around to look.

It seemed to be a curtain woven of the cosmos itself. Blackest space and blazing stars rippled in the same wind that caressed Hikaru’s feverish cheek.

“Kami-sama, what is this?” He reached out a trembling hand to touch the curtain, and the silken folds parted like the entrance to a tent. Within, he saw gorgeous cushions and heaps of soft pillows surrounding a gleaming goban. Scattered go stones decorated the lush carpet. A flute and a painted fan nestled among other bright clutter.

Without a conscious decision, Hikaru flung himself into cozy nest. The curtain fell behind him, shutting away the twilight sky.

The pain vanished.

Hikaru slumped down onto the plush carpet. “Oh, thank you, Kami-sama,” he whispered. “Couldn’t take much more of that.”

He was dead, he felt certain of it. The continued pain of a ruptured appendix had been in retribution for the minor sins committed in his short life; and, now cleansed by ordeal, he had been admitted to heaven.

“Poor mom. She tried so hard to save me, too.” Tears filled his eyes. “Please take care of her. Okay, Kami-sama?”

Hikaru’s nose began to run, which surprised him. Heaven seemed to be a very strange place.

In spite of his sorrow, the incongruity made him laugh. He opened his eyes and blinked to clear the tears. “Are there tissues in heaven?”

There should be. It was heaven, after all. Kami-sama wouldn’t make a blessed soul use his sleeve.

Chuckling again, Hikaru glanced around, and found a stack of neatly folded handkerchiefs beside the flute. “Cool.” He picked one up, dabbed at his nose, and examined his surroundings.

The first thing he saw: long, beautiful, bare feet.

Hikaru blinked.

The feet were attached to legs, which disappeared into the voluminous depth of Heian-style trousers. The billowing white robes of a courtier topped those, followed by silken tresses of flawless black. Sai’s face was sweet in sleep, his lips gently curved, his lashes long on his cheek.

Hikaru drew deep, hoarse breath and released it in a shout. “Sai!”

Crying again, but laughing again as well, Hikaru scrambled to Sai’s side. “Hey, wake up!” He shook a linen-clad shoulder. “Hey, Sai! Hey--!”

The fabric felt warm against his fingers; the body beneath supple and strong.

Hikaru whipped his hand away as if burned. “Sai,” he whispered, “I can touch you.”

Sai slumbered on, his breathing deep and even.

Gazing down at him, Hikaru fully realized for the first time just how beautiful Sai was. “Look at you,” he whispered. “I’ll bet you’re younger than I am, now.” It was a ridiculous statement, and Hikaru grinned ruefully. “I mean, how old were you when you died? Eighteen or nineteen?”

Sai’s tall hat was set askew. Curiously, Hikaru drew it away. Sai wore his hair parted sedately down the middle. It looked soft.

Hikaru’s mouth suddenly went dry, and desire warmed his blood. “Oh, crap….”

He wasn’t a fifteen-year-old punk anymore with no idea of his own tendencies. He was twenty, knew that he preferred men, and knew that he wanted Touya Akira as his first time. First, second, third…with no end and no other.

Waya and Isumi often teased him about his obsession with Touya, but they understood his frustration. Once, when he had turned up at their door, disconsolate and on the verge of a breakdown, they had offered to destroy his virginity with a threesome. Instead, he had gotten drunk, puked on their coffee table, and passed out on their couch.

Hikaru wondered how they were taking the news of his death.

And how Akira was reacting.

His eyes stung, and Hikaru jammed his knuckles against his mouth. Pointless to start crying again. He was in heaven, for pity’s sake.

And he was with Sai again.

And they would play the Hand of God together.

And…and…Akira would turn up in a little while. He just had to wait.

Hikaru felt immediately better at that thought.

He smiled down at Sai. “Hey, wake up, already! I wanna play a game!

Sai remained asleep. Remarkable how his features were so sensual, and yet so wholesome. Flawless skin, patrician nose, and the graceful line of his jaw that led to his funny-looking little ears.

“Can’t wait for Akira to see you.” Hikaru stole his hand out to stroke Sai’s shining hair, and the fine strands snagged a bit on his calloused fingertips.

Akira would be blown away by Sai’s beauty. And then, for all eternity, the three of them would loll about on the pillows, and play Go, and—

Hikaru gulped. Steaming images filled his mind; Akira’s sweating face mashed into a cushion, Sai naked and bent over the goban, Akira and Sai squirming together as--

“Oh, crap!” He had to stop thinking about that kind of thing. This was heaven. You didn’t get to enjoy rampant sex orgies with your boyfriends in heaven, did you? “Sai, wake up!”

Sai didn’t stir. He looked so pure and serene and sweet. It was a total turn-on.

Hikaru’s blood simmered with desire. “No,” he hissed. “No, no, no!”

He didn’t think of Sai that way, really, he told himself. Sai was his mentor and friend; more like a kindly brother-figure than anything else. It was just plain wrong to think about Sai and sex.

Besides, he was in love with Akira. Passionately, desperately, obsessively in love.

A stinging heat gathered in Hikaru’s loins, his heart pounded, and his breath came in ragged jerks. But a sense of panic joined the physical need, and he became frantic to stop his body from doing what his heart and soul knew to be wrong.

“Sai….”

Hikaru wrapped his arms around the sleeping figure, lifted him, and held him close. Long, black hair spilled everywhere, abundant and alluring. Sai’s breath was warm. His lips looked soft.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Hikaru bent down and pressed his mouth to Sai’s. The kiss exploded in the back of his brain like a shower of sakura petals. Parts of him turned to liquid, parts of him turned to steel.

Abruptly, Sai stiffened and gasped.

Startled, Hikaru broke the kiss.

Sai stared at him, open-mouthed, panting. “Hikaru?”

Hikaru struggled to marshal his thoughts. “Uh, I can explain.”

Without warning, everything vanished; the pillows, the goban, and Sai.

Hikaru found himself staring at a clock. It was a cheap, plastic wall clock, hanging on a scuffed white wall. After a moment, he realized that he was lying on his back on a gurney. There was a plastic bracelet around his wrist, and an IV needle stuck in his arm.

It had been a dream, after all. He wasn’t dead.

Sai, his tall hat back in place, bent down to study the IV. “Ohhh, Hikaru! That must hurt.”

“Not really.” Hikaru’s mouth felt pasty. He wanted a sip of water. Then another realization hit. “Sai. You’re here.”

“Eh?” Sai gaped at him, looking adorably befuddled. Then he lifted both of his arms in turn, as if inspecting the sleeves for stains. “Ehhhh!??”

Hikaru couldn’t stop grinning. “You’re here. You came back.”

Sai’s face lit up. “I’m back! I’ve returned to the living world!” He ran in hyper circles around the room, up the wall, and across the ceiling. “I’m back! I’m back! Thank you, Kami-sama! I’m baaaaack!”

A lump of gratitude filled Hikaru’s throat. “Yes,” he whispered. “Thank you, Kami-sama.”

He hadn’t died of a burst appendix. His mother wasn’t childless. His friends would not need to mourn.

Of course, having Sai back in his life would complicate things, but Hikaru thought he could manage. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and he had more resources behind him to cover his tracks. The world of Net-Go was about to be turned on its ear again.

Sai continued to natter away happily as he whizzed around the hospital room. “I’m back. Yes, that’s so. And this is a chair. And this is another chair. And this is the floor. And this is a bed. Mm-hm, mm-hm, that’s so. And I’m back.”

A soft sound near the door drew Hikaru’s attention. He turned his head on the pillow and saw a nurse admit his mother into the room.

“Hikaru?” His mother’s voice was tremulous, and her eyes were red-rimmed. “How do you feel?”

“Great,” he said cheerfully. “I feel great, Mom. Much better than before.”

She crossed to his bedside and sank into the chair. “Really? Do you really?”

Hikaru kept grinning, but injected a note of apology into his voice. “Sorry for worrying you.”

Sai sailed past, his eyes shining with joy. “--door. And this is a window. And this is Mrs. Hikaru’s Mother. And this is a television. Mm-hm. And this is--”

His mother rested her hand on his arm. “The surgeon said they almost lost you on the table. He said your heart stopped, and that you were clinically dead for nearly thirty seconds.”

That explained a few things. Evidently, he had pulled Sai back with him when he returned from the Beyond.

Or maybe the kiss had done the trick.

Hikaru couldn’t help it. He dissolved into laughter.

His mother stared at him reproachfully. “It’s not funny, Hikaru.”

He tried to stop giggling and look contrite. “You’re right, Mom. But everything turned out okay, didn’t it?” She still looked anxious, so Hikaru did something he had never done before. He reached for his mother's hand and took it. “And, just think. It’s going to make such a cool story!”

day o' ficcage

2006-11-11T00:30:14Z

Whew!! I spent most of the day writing a short "Hikaru no Go" story. It needs a little polishing before I post it, but I don't think it's terrible.

I hope others like it. Frankly, I'm nervous about posting it, but reading and writing fic are the reasons I got an LJ account and joined a few communities. So...no wimping-out allowed!

In other news, I also went to class, cursed the crappy white stuff falling out of the sky, and ate lunch with my guy.

Well, back to fic-polishing. Maybe I won't feel so nervous in the future if I can find a kindly beta reader....

Historic moment...

2006-11-09T23:11:27Z

...for me, it is, anyway. This is my first entry of my first blog.

Okay. Deep breath. Just type something.

Really regret snarfing down those 16 rolls of 'Smarties'--hard to type when your fingers are quivering from Too Much Sugar.

Maybe I'd better keep this short, because I cannot think of anything to post that doesn't sound moronic.

So, if you've read this far, thanks. I'll update with later. When I'm not suffering from TMS.