.

Hikaru is used to getting antagonistic looks from Touya. Play me, Shindou. I won't let you near me, Shindou. Why are you forfeiting your matches, Shindou? Catch up to me, Shindou.

After they started playing each other regularly, the looks have become less confrontational, if still as intense. I won't lose to you, Shindou. Don't drop out of the League before you face me, Shindou.

Recently, though, Touya has been giving him looks that are not saying any of those familiar things. In fact, they are not saying anything at all. Hikaru would sense him looking, from across the hall while waiting for their respective matches to start, or from the back of the Go salon as Hikaru was taking his leave; Hikaru would turn, and they would make eye contact.

If it were Ichikawa or Ashiwara or any of those older friends of his, Touya would probably smile. If it were Ogata or Kuwabara or one of the other pros, Touya would probably incline his head. Since it is Hikaru, Touya does none of those. He meets Hikaru's gaze, neutrally, then looks away, unhurriedly. It all seems perfectly natural, actually. Except it isn't natural for Touya to be sending people idle looks to start with.

Hikaru shoots him a questioning look, sometimes. Hikaru asks, "Anything the matter, Touya?" sometimes.

And Touya would return the look briefly, quietly. Or "Oh," Touya would say, with only mild surprise that he's been noticed at all. "Nothing in particular. Who is your opponent next week?" And such.

Touya hasn't even needed to watch Hikaru's games anymore, ever since he could just ask Hikaru to recreate the games when they meet up. Oh, there was that period during the Hokuto Cup qualification that Hikaru stopped going to the salon, and Touya would watch him when they happened to be playing on the same day. Even then, Touya's meaning was perfectly predictable. Are you improving as much as you said you would, Shindou? Anything new with your Go while you're not playing me, Shindou?

And now Touya has been watching Hikaru's games again, whenever he finishes his early. Just that Hikaru thinks it isn't the board Touya's eyes are fixed at. Well, he does look at it — this is Touya, it's impossible he could totally ignore the game — but after the instinctive appraisal, his gaze sort of just... lingers. At only Hikaru's side of the board.

Hikaru has not noticed this particular phenomenon until he played Ochi, when the boy's indignant remark broke through his wall of concentration. When Hikaru looked up, Touya returned the glance just as how he'd been doing it recently. Plain. Unruffled. Then, in the face of Ochi's annoyance, Touya simply excused himself and left.

Isumi has, surprisingly, empathized with Ochi. "The same thing happened during our game, didn't you notice?" he said, smiling. "But it's expected, really. You're the only one among us Touya sees as a rival."

But just a few weeks ago Touya has shown Hikaru his own match with Ochi, and his observation has been detailed. He is definitely not ignoring Ochi. Or Isumi, for that matter. Hell, he's the one who gets all stormy whenever Hikaru speaks of an opponent lightly.

And that's not even the point. The point is that Hikaru suspects, more than what Isumi thinks is "expected", more than what everyone in Hikaru's circle think is their mutual obsession with each other's progress, that there is something Touya is trying to say.

Something he doesn't know how to say, apparently. Although he may not need to, anyway, because Hikaru is guessing it just fine.

And Hikaru isn't going to ignore it.

.

.

Pachi.

Pachi.

"Touya?"

Pachi. "Yes?"

"You like me, don't you?"

Touya looks up.

After a few seconds of silence, Hikaru places his stone.

Touya looks back at the board.

Pachi.

Pachi.

Pachi...

"I have lost," Hikaru says.

"Thank you for the game," Touya says.

Hikaru reaches out to clear the pieces, but pauses when he sees that Touya is still observing them.

"So that's what it is?" Touya says.

"What what is?"

Touya looks at him. "The... inclination to look at you, a lot of the time."

It's really quite amusing the way Touya is approaching this.

"Haven't you been in love before?" Hikaru asks. No one could be that ignorant, could they?

"I haven't suspected this to be," Touya says, not exactly answering the question, or maybe he is. "I would have expected something, um, stronger, perhaps."

His gaze is straying to the Go board, and Hikaru remembers the guy has been in love with Go, like, since he learned to talk.

"Stronger than for Go? That wall is way too high, Touya."

Touya gives him a look, a look that seems to smile even though the rest of his face doesn't as much as twitch.

And Hikaru thinks, of course Touya doesn't send people idle looks. I knew you'd understand, Shindou. I'm glad there is you.

That wall might be high, but it has not been keeping Hikaru outside.

"So," Hikaru says. "Where do you want to take it from here?"

Touya blinks. "What do you mean?"

Hikaru scratches the back of his neck. "Well, what do you want to do, with me?"

"Play Go," Touya answers instantly.

"It's not my Go you've been looking at," Hikaru replies. Then he corrects himself, "It's not only my Go you've been looking at."

"But it's always been— the whole of you— it's our Go—" Touya halts.

Then finally, finally, he blushes.

"Oh," he says, looking down. "But I haven't been thinking of anything beyond that."

Of course he hasn't. Neither has Hikaru, come to think of it. What has he imagined it would be like, dating Touya? There's nothing much he expects that they haven't been doing all along. Play me, Touya. I won't lose to you, Touya. I won't let you get far away from me, Touya. I am your rival, and you are mine.

Touya looks up again when Hikaru is still staring.

"We are fine like this, right?" he asks. It's quite incredible how little his gaze has wavered after all that. "Just because I might like you, it doesn't mean I want us to..."

"I've been watching you watch me," Hikaru says. "What does that tell you about what I want?"

"...Ah," Touya says. The smile slowly returns to his eyes.

And perhaps because he reads the same smile in Hikaru's eyes, or perhaps because he's just an assuming guy like that, he then reaches out and clears the board.

"Another game?" he says.

.

.

They finish the discussion of their third game, and Hikaru stands up to leave.

Touya watches.

Hikaru turns back to him. "Coming?"

"Uh, where?"

"Dinner."

"Thanks, but I—"

Hikaru waits, watching.

Touya stands up. "Let's go."

.

.

Hikaru is used to getting antagonistic looks from Touya. That move has better not be a stupid mistake, Shindou. I'm not going to lose next time, Shindou. You're coming with me to the Go salon right now, Shindou, and we're going to discuss that disaster of a match.

They're actually comforting. These are Touya's intensity, poured on Hikaru. These tell Hikaru how much he affects Touya.

In Go, that is. So far, Touya has not been confrontational about the way Hikaru touches his arm to get his attention where a simple greeting would have sufficed, nor about the few times Hikaru replaces their Go agenda with impromptu outings or long meals. He simply gives Hikaru that same quiet look, only he's mostly doing it from a much closer distance now.

And if there's anything about Hikaru Touya disagrees with, Hikaru could be sure Touya wouldn't be quiet about it. "Not ramen again, Shindou." "Stop dragging me, Shindou, I can walk on my own." "What exactly did you say to Ochi? He was avoiding looking at my face the entire game."

Hikaru is used to getting speculative looks from his friends now. Except Isumi, who calmly says, "It's expected, really. Those two have always been obsessed with each other."

He leaves out the part about Go, but nobody ever objects.

.