Facing the World Alone | By : Michikaru Category: +G to L > Hikaru no Go Views: 3869 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Date posted: Monday, February 5th, 2006
Edited: Not really. My last beta dumped me for a unicorn.
Chapter Warnings: Language… that’s about it. Slight humor. (Thought I’d
let up a bit on the sex.)
Rated: R to very hard R
Disclaimer: I am the fucking King of the World… (even though I am
female).
Summery: “What is life without Sai?” Shindou had asked himself. The only
answer he could come up with was very simple, “There was no such life.” Not
even the illusion of an after life could stand up long. Not even Go could hold
the burden of lost and act as its substitute. “What is life when you have
nothing to live for?” It is nothing; obsolete.
Facing the World Alone
By: Mira Watanabe
:: Chapter Four :: Third person POV
The Beginning that
Meet the End, I
Three hours of unconsciousness was interrupted by the
madding buzz of bells from the crack-addict Alarm-clock of Doom. Restraint was
hard to come by when the first thought on the unconscious mind was to destroy
the wrenched device in a fast and horrible way – like throwing it across the
room to collide into the cemented wall, -- before turning other and falling
back into blissful sleep.
Signing, Shin turned the clock off and got up to face the
day. Still butt naked, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom to wash off
with a cold, wet rag and brush his teeth. He then walked down stairs to get
dressed in his customary gray shirt and Levies. Tossing his bag, now containing
is “work” clothes, over his shoulder, he walked out to scavenge for breakfast.
The mini-refrigerator contain little food: expired milk,
rotten eggs, tuba ware of A-la-Mildew, and a slimy, red thing that looked kind
of like jelly or jello. Grabbing a trash bin, Shin
did some quick house cleaning. Looks like grocery shopping today. Great. Funs.
His stomach growls with the reminder of yesterdays missed
meals, perhaps the day-before’s as well. “Fine,” he
grumbles back, “have it your way, grumpy.”
Breakfast was out of the question, not with the fear of food
poisoning, so he made himself a cup of spiked coffee, the joys of bad scotch,
finished it off, cleaned the cup, switched last night’s wash into the dryer,
left his home, locked the door, put the keys in his locker, and walked the four
miles to school. Eight o’clock
and the bell rang for the beginning of first period. Shin never remembers much
of what happens first period. Nor does he remember second, third, four or fifth
period. He just sleeps right on through lunch as well, only to wake up to move
on to the next location.
Six period is a struggle against wakefulness. By seventh
period, the last fifty minutes of school, sleep has become a distant dream.
Damn Nazis.
Boredom rained supreme, and the undead look plasters itself
to Shin’s face. “I am here, but I am not here,
nor do I want to be here,” it says to the hyper Japanese
History Class all around. “Kill me now and be done with it,” is the other look
it gives, “I’ll never know the difference.”
Princess Prep was chattering to the guy next to her about
some pointless thing or another. Shin couldn’t help but just stare absent
mindlessly at her. ‘What a funny looking
specimen, John. Let’s cut its head off,’ are his lazy thoughts.
The girl shivered at the feeling of eyes upon her back, and
looks around to see Shin’s blank stare. She quickly shuts up. ‘Sweet merciful silence, O’ how I love thee!’
Shin smirks and turns to watch Yamada-sensei at the
dry-erase board. He takes great amusement in watching the teacher fidget under
his stare. ‘Yes, Sensei, bear in mind
what happened.’
The bell rings and kids flee the school grounds. Shin is the
last to leave the class. Yamada-sensei is looking less for wear and positively
haggard. He probably didn’t get much sleep last night, poor man.
Shin makes to leave the room, but is stopped by a hand on
his shoulder. He looks up towards Yamada-sensei’s face and tilts his head to
the side questionably. “Yes?” he implores when no answer is forthcoming.
Yamada-sensei lets go of his shoulder as if burned. The
poor, timid, old man. “I… I’m… I… I-I’m sorry,” he chokes.
Shin smirks, “Oh?” How fun. “Why’s that Sensei?” The teen
advances on the older man until he is trapped beside his desk, the same place
they fucked last night. The memory of that event doesn’t fail Ryuu, and he
turns pale with panic. Eyes wild and dilated, he stares towards the open
classroom door.
“Shin… not here, please,” the teacher begs.
Shin pouts pettily and whines, “Why not Sensei? Aren’t you
going to take me home with you?” The pout turns into a lopsided smirk, “I don’t
think your wife would enjoy strays.” The teacher whimpers.
Shin caresses Yamada-sensei’s golden wedding band as he
brings his other hand up to rub the erection probing him in the stomach.
Mistakenly innocent eyes look up to capture the teacher’s glaze, “Look Sensei,
you’re all ready for me.”
With a strangled cry, Ryuu sends Shin flying down to his
ass. The pain stings, but laughter is all Shin could express at that
moment. The teacher flees from the
student, but not before taking one final look at the lewd male.
Shin lies on his side, his cheek on the scratchy carpet, his
eyes watching the other man. The fallen God of Death lies before his very feet.
“Sensei,” he whines with a cruel curve of his lips and a
gleam in his ebony eyes, “Play with me.”
The need for escape becomes too great, and the teacher runs
away from the forbidden desire. Shin
sighs. That last look meant he had to stop. A desperate man can do deadly
things. Oh well, there are more fish in the pond than one.
Shin retrieved his bag from inside his desk and left the
classroom, shutting the door after himself.
“Oh great, see my luck!” Shin grumbles as he walks out of
the school to encounter ice-cold rain. He flips the bird towards the heavens,
“I fucking hate you too, damn it!”
Shin walks the four miles home grumbling about fuck-up gods
and their lazy two-bit asses and their stupid fucking grudges and white togas
and shinny halos and moronic wings. Then he curses shop owners for closing
early that day so he couldn’t get the needed food. Then the rain, because it
scares off the good marks and brings out the filth, so he can’t make a pretty
buck that night.
Soaking wet, he gets his keys from Tomu’s and goes home.
Locking the door, he turns on the lights and paddles on into the employees’
lounge for a towel. Getting a spare towel and a washcloth and leaving the wet
clothes in the washing machine, he marches himself up the staircase, past the guest
rooms, into the owner’s quarters, and into the bathroom. Turning the water hose
on scolding hot, still the only setting, he makes himself a bath. He gets in
slowly after it is filled and moans at the rare comfort it brings him.
For everything there is a price.
God, doesn’t that beat it all.
The water, sadly, turns cool and uncomfortable quick, and
Shin slips out of the tub. After drying off, he winds his alarm clock once more
and turns in for bed. Good-night Wednesday tomorrow is just another day.
The ten hours of sleep was a rare heaven on earth. Angels
sung… in the form of one annoying alarm clock. “Ding, ding, ding, ding, DING!”
Shin buries his head under his pillow, but he knew better than to even try to
ignore the callings of a new day. A hand slithers out from under the blankets
to turn off the infernal racket. Up and at um.
Bare booty displayed to the empty home, Shin walks down
towards the bar-turned-kitchen. Half awake, he opens the fridge to nothing.
“Oh…. Oh yeah…”
He closes the door and makes himself a coffee. The instant
brown powder goes into the cup of water, then the cup into the microwave, push
button, and now wait. A thud is heard from Shin’s forehead hitting the
microwave’s door. He watches the cup sit in the middle of the small oven,
wondering how the damn thing gets cooked and feeling slightly disappointed that
it wasn’t a revolving microwave… oh wait, it was… it just doesn’t move anymore.
Pity that.
Shin then moves his eyes towards the countdown numbers and
his forehead makes a sharp squeak on the microwave’s door. 1:02… 60… 40… 38… 37… 36 and a half… Shin frowns
and goes cross eyed. Sighing, he waits for the bell to ding. When it does ding,
he nearly jumps for joy, but that would take up too much energy.
The first sip kills the tip of his taste buds. Not that he
needed them, the taste was awful. When the coffee is gone he washes the cup,
puts it away, and walks into the employees’ lounge.
“What shall I wear today. Let’s see... The Gay shirt and Levies
it is.”
Grabbing his bag, he leaves his home, locks the door, puts
his keys away, and walks the four miles to school. Routine at its best.
School that day was far from normal. Shin knew that the
first minute he turned the corner to Kaeri and felt some deep forbidding of his
spirit. Something was different. Something had changed.
Matsumoto
High School in Sendai, Kyuushuu, Japan
was anything but cheerful that Thursday morning. A dark shadow loomed across
the building. It didn’t help that yesterday’s rain failed to take the gray
clouds with it in passing. It was a picture of the school painted on top of a
canvas with a background done in a variation of grays, in a disarray of such
violent movement that even Van Gogh would approve of.
The bell rang and school commenced. It was an illusion of
normalcy. It was an image of, all things considered, life moving on.
The class room, like the hallways, was filled with mourning
students. Confused, and for once not sleepy, Shin looks around his first period
class room for the first time. The room looked like any other, Boooorish.
Matsumoto-sensei, the school principal, made his morning
announcement in a mournful tone of voice, “Students it has been a sad day here
a Matsumoto High School and I know most of you have heard
the terrible news already. Yesterday afternoon, one of our teachers passed
away. The car crash couldn’t be prevented as Yamada-sensei’s vehicle skidded
off the road and into a tree. We here at
our school express our deep regret of this tragic event and our counselors will
be at hand for those of you needing to talk. For a minute now, let us have a
moment of silence to pray.”
So the classed prayed, and Shin did his best to fall asleep.
‘Yamada-no-baka.’
As the day dragged on pass sixth period, Shin felt no
remorse for his newly deceased lover. He had no feelings for the man, and the
man was of little importance in his life than as a toy to amuse himself with.
And as the day drew on, he felt normalcy rightin’
itself in his world. Even better, he felt content with his way of life. There
was routine and order, and there was nothing and no one that could change that.
He was free in a way that his old self knew not of.
Seventh period proved to be a massive bore without
Yamada-sensei to bother. The substitute was utterly incompetent, and that is
being exceedingly nice to the hideously fat women. It was a pity she wouldn’t
be staying long. Heh, a darn sham.
Shin leaned back in his chair and contemplated the pros of
leaving that very instant. Yashi-sensei sent him her most wicked of glairs, and
Shin had to hold in his mirth at the perfect impersonation she made of an
irritated toad. Due to such slight though, Shin returned the favor full,
causing the teacher to go pale with fright.
The school bell marked the end of class and beginning of
Shin’s day, or better yet, night.
End Chapter: To Be Continued
Annoying Authors Notes:
Why does Shindou seem like he’s from a version of Invaders
of the Body Snatchers? Lmao. God, he seems so
fucking hot. That bad boy attitude suits him.
I hope no one noticed the change in my writing style. I had done
the past chapters and a half of this one two years ago, and randomly found it
again in some of my old junk.
Look, the car crash. Yatta!
Until next time,
Ja ne!
Chapter Notes:
Japanese words used:
Kaeri – return
Yatta – yay.
P L E A S E
R E V I E W!
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