InsaneJournal

Touya's Pride, Part 8 of 11 (NC-17, fic)
Title: Touya's Pride (part 8 of 11)
Author: Ravenna C. Tan
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Pairing: Hikaru/Akira eventually, Akira/others, sort of (you'll see)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Non-commercial fanfic.
Summary: Touya Akira loses a match and suffers a crisis of faith. Could wily old Kuwabara-sensei have the answer? Or is the answer to be found in Touya's eternal rival, Shindou Hikaru?
Warnings: This is not a fluffy Aki/Hika fic. There is what could be termed cross-gen/chan, and also psychological manipulation as part of the plot. The sexuality is graphic, but not gratuitous. Touya is 16. Spoilers for the series, also.
A/N: I posted an "intro" to Hikaru no Go for those who want to read the fic without watching or reading the whole series, on LJ and IJ.

Part One is here: LJ and IJ
Part Two: LJ and IJ
Part Three: LJ and IJ
Part Four: LJ and IJ
Part Five: LJ and IJ
Part Six: LJ and IJ
Part Seven: LJ and IJ




Part Eight

I woke at five in the morning, went through my morning washing and so on, put the plug in, then went to the Go room and went back to sleep by the board.

I woke, naked and stiff-muscled, several hours later, but there was still no sign of Kuwabara-sensei. I wondered. He had definitely said he would be back in the morning. Now it was nearly ten and I had gotten myself out of bed early for nothing. Not only that, I'd slept with my hair wet on the tatami and it looked a wreck.

I ended up wetting it again and combing it out before hunger finally drove me to the kitchen for something to eat. Then I brewed tea and filled a Thermos with it, setting it by the Goban with a cup for Kuwabara-sensei.

It was nearly eleven-thirty when he finally arrived, and I was checking my email when his taxi pulled up. Father confirmed the match for tomorrow and it was this I was thinking about as I settled into my place, waiting for Kuwabara-sensei to enter the room.

There were no punishments this time, though he did want me to prove to him the plug was in place. I got up on all fours and showed him, then we spent the next few hours discussing Ogata-san's game and his style of play. I had played Ogata-san many, many times under my father's watchful eye, so we had much to talk about.

We were nearly finished when the phone rang. "Answer it, Akira-kun," Kuwabara-sensei said. "I shall go out on the porch for a cigarette."

I thought it would be Shindou, but it was Ogata-san, wanting to know how I planned to get to the hotel. "I could come and pick you up," he said. "But I wanted to ask if I received the right message. Is Shindou-kun coming along, too?"

"Er, yes, that's all right, isn't it?" For some reason, talking on the phone to him I became aware all over again that I was naked. "Shindou overheard Ichikawa-san and I talking and asked if he could come also."

There was silence for a moment. Then, "Yes, it's fine. I'll come pick you up first, though, and then him. And we may want to go a little early, to avoid the traffic."

"How early?" I asked. It seemed odd that he'd pick me up and then Shindou, when we'd have to nearly double back to head to the hotel, I thought. Maybe he knew a short-cut I didn't know about.

"Well, I should probably come over and pick you up within the hour."

"Right now?"

"Forty five minutes or so."

"Um, all right! Thank you for the ride, Ogata-san."

I hung up and turned around to see Kuwabara-sensei looking me up and down. "Ogata-kun is on his way? I'd best be going. I'll see you there tonight, though, Akira-kun."

"Yes, sensei." I bowed and then the moment he was out the door, went to figure out what I was going to wear.

Another growth spurt had retired half my suits six months ago, and for once I was able to have Ogata-san's help choosing new ones instead of my mother. The colors were more muted on the newer ones, some darker than the bright ones my mother had favored. I wasn't her little boy playing dress-up anymore. I was a professional appearing at my job.

Ogata-san would probably be in white, as usual. If I were to wear black, in opposition to him, that would be far too cute, given the impending match. I chose an olive green instead, wondering what Shindou would be wearing.

I also chose the softest of my shirts when I discovered that my nipples were still sore. Anything too rough and I'd be either wincing in pain all evening, or fighting to hide an erection. As I finished getting dressed it seemed my body was cooperating with me, thankfully.

I hurried out of the house when I heard the honk of the horn. Outside was a gorgeous silver Porsche. I buckled myself into the passenger seat. This was the car that Ogata-san had bought for himself with the money from the Honinbou title.

"How have you been?" he asked, once we were on the road. "Your parents worry about leaving you alone so much. I promised I'd look in on you."

"Everything's fine, Ogata-san," I said. "I have plenty to keep me busy, after all."

"And are you eating enough? I promised your mother I'd ask you that, by the way."

I laughed and he gave a wry smile. "Yes, I'm eating enough, and you can tell her I said that, Ogata-san."

Now he laughed, very quietly. "You should call me Seiji, now, Akira. At least when we're alone. We're peers now, and you've known me all your life."

I stared at the road ahead to keep from staring at him in disbelief. "But, I've always called you Ogata-san. You're a 9-dan." Technically one could call him 10-dan, or "the" 10-dan, having taken the Jyudan title already. "I..."

He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes, you've always called me that, and you've always been a child, until recently. You'll make me feel old if you keep referring to me that way."

Without thinking, I said, "But I don't even call Shindou by his given name."

"I've known you longer," he pointed out, banking the car into a turn.

"True." I studied the lines in the road as we sped along the highway, thinking. This couldn't all just be a ploy to get me off-balance before the match, could it? That didn't seem like Ogata's style. Then again, maybe he'd had to become wilier in order to beat Kuwabara-sensei? I couldn't think of any other reason for the sudden change, or its timing. "I'll call you Seiji in private if I win on Thursday," I said finally, my voice light, though I was not joking. "If I lose, I may have to start calling you Ogata-sama, instead."

To my surprise, he took it not as a joke at all, but with a frown and grunt.

Then he changed the subject. We chatted all the rest of the way to Shindou's about Go, about the next Hokuto Cup, about things my father had learned or seen, about my father finally learning to use email, which Ogata-san found just as amusing as I did. Then we were there. I got out to let Shindou climb into the back seat, then got back into the passenger front seat. He was wearing a blue suit that made his eyes look more blue than green, the sleeves noticeably a bit too short.

"So what sort of a reception is this?" Shindou asked Ogata-san. "The cheap kind or the good kind?"

"I've been told there will be a champagne fountain," Ogata said with a glance into the rear view mirror. Shindou had planted himself between our two seats and was leaning forward to talk with us. "I'd say this will be fairly expensive."

Shindou swore sharply. "I should have worn my better suit, but my mother sent it to be cleaned. Ah, well. If I take the jacket off and hang it over a chair it won't look so bad..."

I shared a look with Ogata, then, and he rolled his eyes. I wasn't sure I quite shared the sentiment. I was finding Shindou's trouble a bit endearing.

The talk moved to Go, and I repeated what I'd just said to Ogata-san about what I thought of our chances for the next Hokuto Cup, only slightly differently. "I'll be sure to win my two matches again," I said, "now if only Shindou will uphold his end of the bargain, it won't matter who the third player on the team is. Let it be Ochi-kun for all I care."

Shindou made a noise. "Ochi plays too cautiously. He doesn't know how to take risks. That's why he won't do well against players whose style he doesn't recognize. He might beat out the others within Japan for a spot, but he'll fold when he goes up against the Chinese or Koreans."

To my surprise, Ogata agreed. "That's right. And he lacks the confidence in his creative side that he needs. Yashiro, on the other hand, has too much confidence in his creativity, and not enough discipline in the some of the most basic joseki. As I understand it, though, the main sponsor has already decided they want the two of you and Yashiro again. Ochi-kun will only get a chance if one of you drops out."

"Yashiro's parents think he's wasting his time on Go," I said, then, and Ogata-san made a disgusted noise.

"It would be a shame. Ochi-kun could very well take his place, but he's not an exciting player." He looked at me as he said this.

"Waya would be better, and way more fun," Shindou added excitedly, with great enthusiasm.

"Waya hates me just as much as Ochi does," I snapped, then recoiled. I looked away quickly not able to meet either of their eyes.

We rode on in uncomfortable silence for a while. Ochi hated Shindou, too, but Ochi hated everybody, pretty much. But I knew Waya and Shindou were friends. I just hadn't known it bothered me so much.

Ogata-san is the one who returned us to polite small talk, and soon he and Shindou were chattering back and forth about movies they liked. I didn't much like movies, not since I was five or six and a movie called "Akira" was shown, about a child of that name whose mind is so powerful he has the power to destroy the world. The teasing at school was merciless after that. But at least we weren't sitting in silence with them staring at me.

After we arrived, we went into the restroom to neaten up before meeting our hosts. Ogata-san caught my elbow at the door while Shindou went rushing ahead. "Your true peers are all older than you are, Akira," he said. "Waya, Ochi... You've never fit in well with your own age group. Surely you see that now."

He did not mention Shindou. I did not have an answer to his statement, which perhaps was correct. I merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Soon we had been introduced to our hosts, shaken hands with the sponsors, and the other formalities. Later there would be a speech of some kind and the presentation of a plaque from someone to someone... these things were pretty much all the same. I ate sparingly from the trays, mostly because people kept wanting to talk to me and I didn't want to talk with my mouth full.

Shindou didn't seem to have this problem, as he followed me nearly everywhere it seemed, but I did most of the talking, while he did most of the eating. He had his admirers, but not as many as me. Ogata, meanwhile, seemed to keep his diet mostly of the liquid variety, and I began to wonder if he'd be fit to drive us home.

We'd been there perhaps an hour when Kurabawa-sensei made his grand entrance, with cameras flashing, a tall blonde woman on his arm, autographing copies of his tsumego book and handing them to people.

I needn't have worried that he was going to be a bother to me, though. He kept his distance, only making one obligatory handshake to me as he made the rounds of the room, our recent familiarity only acknowledged by one subtle wink. Instead, he cornered Ogata-san, which didn't surprise me either. Ogata has always been one of Kuwabara-sensei's favorite people to torment, only moreseo now that Ogata-san holds the Honinbou title.

The tide of people who all wanted to shake hands and chat with either the son of the former Meijin or the "star of the North Star Cup" (i.e. me and me) finally ebbed and I found myself looking out the window of the penthouse ballroom at the lights of the city.

"You look tired." It was Shindou, standing just a little behind me, his jacket slung over his shoulder like a fashion model. A good trick to hide the sleeves that were too short. "I can't believe how many people who don't seem to actually know anything about Go want to talk to you. Or me, even."

I shrugged. "It's good that they are so enthusiastic about Go. They can love it without knowing much about it."

"I bet they'd love it better if they knew it better," he said then, leaning against the glass, his arm and breath leaving a foggy shape on the window.

"What makes you say that?"

"Nothing."

He seemed more melancholy than I was used to. "You look tired, too," I finally said. "Maybe we can leave soon."

We both looked toward the bar, where Kuwabara-sensei and Ogata-san were sitting. Amazingly, they were huddled close together, and Kuwabara-sensei was saying something into Ogata-san's ear, and Ogata was nodding in agreement. There was a sake bottle between them.

I looked away quickly, as Ogata's gaze suddenly met mine.

"I think they're talking about you," Shindou said.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said, turning back to the window.

"Are you bored?" Shindou asked then, with a sing song in his voice that I knew meant he had some trick up his sleeve.

I just looked at him, waiting to find out what it was.

He pulled a tiny Goban from the inner pocket of his jacket and gave a childish laugh. "It's magnetic. Just like my personality."

"Ha. Let's go sit by the rest room and play. There are comfortable chairs there, and we'll surely see Ogata-san if he has too much to drink."

We settled ourselves in chairs between two tall potted palms, but the table between them was too wide, and the next thing I knew, Shindou had rearranged the furniture so that the two armchairs were side by side in the nook set back in the plants. "There. Now no one will butt in," Shindou said.

I nodded in agreement. If we'd played in the ballroom, we'd have attracted a crowd. And I'd had enough of crowds.

We played quickly, not deliberating long over our moves, just feeling the flow of the stones, even if they were pinhead-sized magnets that stuck to the plastic board. Shindou held the board in his hand and my fingers brushed his each time I set a piece into place.

The next thing I knew, I had let my fingers trail over the inch of exposed wrist above the cuff of his shirt. He didn't react, but my own body did, clutching tight on the plug and waking my penis from its slumber.

Uh oh.

We were in yose by then. I took my jacket off and laid it over my lap as nonchalantly as I could. And then when the game ended, and I had barely won, I said I had to visit the restroom quickly.

At least, I hoped it would be quick. I went in and first splashed a little water on my face, then went into one of the toilet stalls. The Palace was done in the western style, with western style plumbing and toilets and each stall was like a small room of its own, with a slatted door. I went quickly into one of them, shut the door and leaned over the private urinal, pulling my prick out and stroking it.

This was... this wasn't about learning to get over fear of embarrassment or humiliation. I had become a pervert is what it was, but I didn't care. I couldn't go back out and face that room or ride home in Ogata-san's car with an erection as obvious as Mt. Fuji.

I groaned aloud without realizing it, and the next thing I knew I heard a voice through the slats in the door. "Akira-kun?"

Ogata-san. I froze, trying to decide what to do. If I called out, he'd know it was me, but if I said nothing...? But maybe he was looking for me?

"I'm here." A moment later he opened the door, came in, and shut it behind him. I tried to zip up my fly but he stopped me with a hand on mine, meaning his hand was essentially on my cock. I made a small noise.

"So it's true," he said. He reeked of alcohol but his gaze was piercingly clear. "Akira..." He pushed me back against the wall, one of his legs between mine, his hand wrapping firmly around my cock as I braced myself with both hands against the wall behind me. He stroked me slowly and my mouth fell open and I made another one of those kitten sounds.

"Shh, it's all right," he said, as if he were tending to a scraped knee, not my straining erection. "I didn't dare believe it, but here you are."

Didn't dare believe what? Had Kuwabara-sensei told him what I'd been doing? "Ogata..."

"Seiji," he breathed, stroking faster now. "I think after this you had better call me Seiji."

"But..."

"I'm going to make you come, Akira. I think we can dispense with the formalities." And then he did another thing I did not expect--he dropped to his knees and sucked my cock into his mouth.

I put my own hand over my mouth to keep from crying out or making helpless, lustful noises. Well, I was making those, but hopefully muffling them. Someone else came in and went into one of the other stalls. The sound of the pipes rushing could be heard easily as they flushed, and then the water running as whoever he was washed his hands. I could hear someone laughing out in the hallway.

Ogata did not stop or pay any heed to the sounds. I wasn't entirely successful at keeping quiet, either, not when it felt like nothing I'd ever felt before, not when he was swallowing me down to the root, so deep his glasses brushed my belly. When I began to come he only sucked harder, swallowing down every drop while I was thinking, what? How can he do that? Is that healthy? Is that allowed?

And then he was tucking me back in, and pressing me against the wall again. "You shouldn't suffer," he said, then swore. "And I shouldn't have had so much to drink. I'll never get it up now. I'm sorry, Akira, I hope that was enough for you."

What was he talking about? "Um, it was fine. Thank you, Oga... uh, Seiji." I didn't want to seem ungrateful, after all.

He groaned. "I'm sure I can get the sponsors to put us up here for the night. But..."

I waited, wondering when he was going to move back from me.

"But there's Shindou. And your match with your father in the morning. Damn." Now he finally moved back, and then began straightening my clothes, brushing lint from them and so on. He straightened my tie. "We'll have to get you home somehow."

"And Shindou," I reminded him. "His match day is tomorrow. He needs to go home, too."

"Enough about Shindou," he said. He pulled me into his arms. "Why didn't you say something sooner, Akira-kun? Was it because of the league match? I'll never be just another opponent to you anyway, you know. We've known each other too long. Your father..." He groaned again. "Your father can never know, of course."

Can never know what? That he sucked me off in a men's room at the Palace Hotel? Well, obviously. But he seemed to be implying something more.

"He might get completely the wrong idea," Ogata went on. "And of course he'll blame me, never you, even if you wanted me for years before I finally gave in."

What??

"Oga--" Damn. "Seiji. Seiji, listen to me. That's why, er... that's why this is all a terrible mistake. You know I can't keep a secret from my father."

"But Akira-kun..."

"No, Seiji... Ogata, no. It just can't happen. The Meijin's number one protege and his own son? If he sanctioned it, maybe, but how could we ever even ask without destroying him and destroying the harmony of our group?" Our group was not formally speaking a family, but it was tight-knit nonetheless, including my father's students and me. Never mind that I was playing along with a preposterous conclusion that Ogata had come to, that I had somehow desired him all along; it was easier to argue with the consequences of that than try to sort out the potential confusion of where that idea came from in the first place.

I also had a feeling any arguing I did might be fruitless anyway, since his likelihood of remembering any of this in the morning was very slim.

"I'm going to pretend none of this happened," I said, gripping him by the upper arms. "All right? I can see how crazy it is now." That was the pure truth, eh? "Thank you, Ogata-san, for indulging me."

"You're welcome, Akira-kun," he said dreamily.

I dragged him out and threw him into the armchair I had vacated. Shindou was there still, but he looked at me with the oddest expression. Had he just overheard what had gone on in the men's room? Or was it something else?

Ogata-san seemed to be more or less asleep within a minute, and I motioned for Shindou to come with me. "He's not going anywhere," I said. "Let's find the organizer, see if they'll get him a hotel room, and then if they'll pay for us to have taxis home."

"Good idea," he said, but he looked a bit grim. "If it's too much trouble for them to pay for both of us, I could just go to your house."

I looked at him. "Isn't your match day tomorrow?"

He yawned. "No. I'm off this week. Didn't I tell you that?"

Had he told me that? I didn't remember; I'd been assuming he had a match, perhaps.

"Well, I'm supposed to play my father in the morning, on the Internet."

He squeezed my wrist then. "Well, I promise not to keep you up all night... with my magnetic traveling Go board."

I laughed. "Sure, whatever."

(continue to part nine!)