Memories against a game of Go (with alcohol as the catalysis)

Summary: After Japan's win at the second Hokuto Cup, they held a celebration party. And then?
Warning: Er... Please excuse me for my crappy English writing skills ="=

Sequel of Telescope, but can be read on its own.

You certainly were drunk that night.

You were not really sure how it happened. After all, you were totally unaware whether it was Kurata-san or Ogata-san who came up with the idea of a celebration party at the very same hotel that organized the tournament. You were most unsure who between Ashiwara-san and Yashiro-kun,had urged you to just swallow a few sips of alcohol regardless of your being underage rather than become a wet blanket. It simply sort of occurred that way eventually, and you had fallen into this drunken state even before you could reach your second glass.

After all, you were never used to alcohol. Not even once in your life.

But you held no shame of yourself, since you could not recall any person who managed to maintain his sanity that night. And, gosh, you did not remember exactly if there was someone seeing you off, or that was you insisting on leaving by yourself (most likely the second, since there was not a single conscious person that night according to your memories). You did not even understand what the heck had happened to your mind to come up with such a thing. You could have very well just rested for another day before packing since the organizers were more than willing to let you. Which was why you absolutely had no idea how you chose to embarrass yourself instead.

Eventually you just decided that whatever had misled you did not matter anymore. Right now your most urgent problem was to press the small little doorbell dangling at the door – not that it was out of your reach, but you simply could not make up your mind which of the three was the real one. Anyway, after a few minutes of stomping hopelessly against each button image which in the end all turned out to be the door, the host finally appeared in his black with white stripe pyjamas, staring at you in awe.

Okay, so you did not really have in mind how Hikaru had got you in, considering that you were like one foot taller than him (oh and by the way did alcohol make you huge? 'cause you really felt bigger since the moment your mind started to spin). You just knew that you certainly managed somehow, and thereby settled down inside his apartment kneeling in front of his good old goban (that his grandfather bought him, that much you remembered).

Well, you lied actually - you did remember other things than that. Like when Hikaru asked you if you wanted aspirin, which you had politely refused. Or like when he told you to go to sleep already and you just winced at him and (courteously!) asked that jerk if both of you could just play a game of Go once and for all. You could vaguely recall his being a total idiot, merely shaking his head in silence no matter how you put the suggestion. Which infuriated you, second time. Oh, that reminded you! Now you were absolutelsure that you had shouted and yelled and screamed at his face and apparently had made it extremely clear to him that it was indeed a demand, not any stupid suggestion.

Despite all that, the stupid jerk, you meant Hikaru, kept staying a pain in the a** in mere silence, no matter how deafening you tried to growl. Exhausted and breathless after five minutes of monologue (or mono-yell), you scowled at his eyes one last time and roared with all your remaining strength.

"HIKARU NO BAKA!" You cried.

You swore that there had been magic in your voice, because the look that Hikaru gave you afterwards was nothing but priceless. You were not really sure, but you understood that it was a hit on.

You kept glaring at his eyes, however, when he sighed and retrieved the goke. You ain't sure if it was just your imagination, but somehow there seemed to be something inside that was tearing his soul apart.

You would never remember what happened thereafter, which was a pity. All you knew was that you would wake up the next day right on the floor of his apartment, where you would find a stain that obviously proved the occurrence of a newly severe case of throwing up.

Ah… you would rather forget about it.

The end