![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flonnebonneTitle: Waya in Storyland
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Characters: Waya, Hikaru, Isumi, Akari
Genre: Meta disguised as fic
Wordcount: 8662
Warnings: Lots of mentions of porn but no actual porn.
Summary: Waya is a character in a story and he knows it. It gives him existential angst.
Note: The first half of this story was submitted to round 14 of![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
blind_go. Sorry it took so long to post the second half of the story.
Waya in Storyland
Another day at the Institute.
Argh.
"Gather round, children," Kuwabara Honinbou cackled, "it's story time."
In response to this pronouncement there was a general mumble of disinterest, followed by a generally disinterested general shuffle in the Honinbou’s general direction. A lineup kind of sort of started to form, but only because some unlucky sobs were shoved into it.
"Gee, I wonder what exciting new tales of wonder we'll get today," said Waya to no one in particular as he dragged himself to the back of the line. Standing in line sucked. Especially this line.
Case in point: directly in front of Waya, a rather large-ish man was scratching at his comb-over and spilling dandruff all over the place.
Further ahead in line, Gokiso the one-trick shyster was loudly complaining about the lousy pay of this job, i.e. no pay at all.
Kurata, just behind him, offered to give Gokiso an autograph if he was that hard up.
And from way at the front of the line, Ochi's could be heard practically shrieking, “I have to crossdress again?!”
“What a lucky young man you are,” Kuwabara said in an almost desultory way as he shoved Ochi out of the lineup.
Why, Waya wondered for the gazillionth time, did anyone write stories about go players? What kind of crazy people did that?
People with way too much time on their hands, obviously.
"Yo," said Shindou, coming up behind Waya and saying “yo” the same way he did every day. He was late to the party, as usual, but as usual as soon as he showed up the party got started, metaphorically. The room always got brighter and more...main character-ish when Shindou was around..
“Yo,” Waya said back, not even annoyed at the Shindou light show anymore, he was so used to it.
They shuffled forward in line.
"So...think I'll do some scenes with Touya today?"
Waya made a face, which was useless since Shindou was behind him, but whatever. "You're always doing stuff with Touya, and it's always the same stuff, so why do you even think about it? You play Go, you contemplate the Hand of God, you have a fight, you make up, you make kissy-face, you make sexy-times, the end. Why would today be any different?"
"Hey, sometimes I have gigs with you guys too, you know." Shindou went on the defensive, which was rare in his games but common enough in his everything else. "Remember that conversation I did with you last week? That was pretty well-done, I think."
"But it was a conversation about your love-life with Touya."
"Yeah..."
"It had nothing at all to do with me! I just got dragged in to be your damn therapist."
"True, but--"
"And that was my only appearance in that story."
"But at least you got to do something, right? I mean, you get way more scenes than most people."
"Yeah, but half the time when I make an appearance I'm just there to give you someone to complain to. Maybe more than half the time. I feel so used, so violated." Waya put a hand on his heart theatrically. He was only half-kidding, but he tried to keep his voice light.
Shindou was totally clueless. "And the other half of the time you're there to make passionate love to Isumi," he said with a grin. It's not like Waya really wanted or expected the idiot to understand, anyway. Shindou would never understand what it was like to be secondary character.
Sighing a little, Waya picked some second-hand dandruff out of his bangs--ew--and decided to just get on with the conversation.
"But everyone has to do the passionate love thing,” he said. “Not necessarily with Isumi," Waya amended hastily, "but, you know, porn."
Shindou nodded. He would know all about that. "Sometimes I think it's all about the porn."
"It is all about the porn."
“No shame in it.”
“We all have to do it.”
Suddenly, Waya realized they were already almost at the front of the line; only dandruff man separated them from Kuwabara. A horrible old-man ho-ho-ho rang through the air. "I agree! Everyone should do porn. It's good exercise. Especially for us older folks."
As Mr. Dandruff shuffled off from the line in an awkward, freaked-out way, Kuwabara winked at Waya, whose soul absolutely curdled and molded and all sorts of other cheesy metaphorical things.
“Come closer, young ones,” the Honinbou gestured at Waya and Shindou with one gnarled, pockmarked finger. “Let old man Kuwabara give you a story.”
“You think we’ve be used to the trauma by now,” Shindou commented as they moved forward.
The old man was rifling through the sheaf of papers in his hands. “You’re quite the popular ones, you two.”
He handed two sheets of paper to Waya, and a whole stack of the things to Shindou.
Waya scanned through his first assignment quickly. “What the hell? A Harry Potter crossover? Shoot me now. How come there’s hardly any info here?”
“The writer hasn’t planned anything yet beyond the initial concept,” Kuwabara told him. “Just go to your location and wait. Maybe eventually they’ll figure out what the hell you'll be doing.” Then the old geezer leered. “As you noted, it’ll probably be porn.”
“Yeargh.” Waya wondered if his face was turning as green as his camo pants. Why did he always have to wear camo? “Shindou, let’s go, now.”
"Wait, what’s this?" Shindou was staring at one of his assignment sheets and not paying attention to Waya at all. "At the back here, this ‘reminder from Hotta-sama and Obata-sama’ thing?"
Kuwabara squinted at the paper. “Oh, you do remember when that new edition of the manga came out. There were some new ‘character sketchbook’ sections at the back of each volume, with info on all us important characters."
“Oh yeah, I kind of vaguely remember that,” said Shindou, in his usual vague way.
“Mine says I’m fond of horse racing. Legalized gambling,” Kuwabara noted. “And it says I know how to enjoy life, unlike most other Go players. I like it. You should take a look at Ogata-kun’s entry. I like that one too.”
Waya really did not like the old man’s smirk. “So why are those character sketchbook things on our assignment sheets today? It’s old news.”
“Our glorious creators just wanted to remind us of who we’re supposed to be, since we occasionally forget.”
“Right,” said Waya, “because with all the porn starring we do, it’s hard to forget that we’re actually from a kids manga about a board game.”
“The character sketches are more about characterization than Go,” Kuwabara reminded them. “The message is ‘try to stay in-character, even during the porn scenes.’ Which you’ll most certainly be doing. Now get going.” He waved them off, and they gladly started moving away from the lineup so the Honinbou could start terrorizing his next victims.
"I take back what I said earlier," Waya said to Shindou. "Now I feel so used, so violated."
“Yeah.”
Shindou was still acting all inattentive--his usual airheadedness, really--but...Waya could tell it was a different kind of airheadedness now. Shindou had turned into Serious Shindou. Was it about the character sketchbook thing? Waya grabbed the stack of assignment sheets out of Shindou’s hands so he could find out whatever the heck had sucked his friend’s brain out even more than usual.
13) Shindo Hikaru
The day Sai disappeared was May 5th, Children's Day.
That day, from the window of Hikaru's room, you could see carp streamers swimming energetically.
The carp streamers are a symbol of a child's growth. If you think about it, Hikaru has also grown quite a lot.
Sai disappears.
The day that was meant to come came.
Perhaps that's all it was.
Every year on the fifth of May, particularly when it's a clear day with impatient winds, I look up at the sky.
Hikaru surely does this too.
“Oh,” said Waya, as tongue-tied as ever when it came to the sadder side of Shindou’s character. Waya just didn’t have this kind of trauma in his backstory so he didn’t know how to deal with it. And besides, he was never the one Shindou talked to about this stuff--that was always Touya, in all those “Shindou finally reveals that Sai was a ghost” stories that had been done to death over the years.
And Waya was pretty sad about Sai too, truth be told. But his sadness wasn't anything like Shindou's sadness, so it wasn't like he could really help. And there was nothing to be done anyway. Sai just wasn't around much.
Shindou took his assignment papers back, wordlessly. Waya, for lack of something better to do, looked down at his own character sketch. There was nothing traumatic in it. He showed it to Shindou.
4) Waya Yoshitaka
He's a "good guy," although he is short tempered and gets into fights. Rather than a "nice boy," he's more of a "really good guy."
Actually, when I was asked to write a few short pieces outside the main storyline, I also wrote a story for Waya (but it was turned down). Even so, he's a good guy who gets along really well with his fellow disciple Saeki and the other insei.
Lively and also considerate of others, Waya is liked by his peers.
"Straightforward and single-minded," Waya is well taken care of by his master.
Waya is Hikaru's lifelong friend.
Hikaru may not notice the value of that until he becomes an adult, though.
“I’m straightfoward and single-minded, and I am well-taken by Morishita-sensei. Great,” said Waya with a roll of his eyes, hoping it would get Shindou’s mind off himself.
“Single-minded? Really?” Shindou said with a faint smile. “More like simple-minded.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, I should go. I’ve got eleven scenes to do today. I'll see you later? Looks like my second story has you in it.”
“Yeah, I should go too.” Waya only had two scenes, but he had to keep up appearances. He gave his friend what he hoped was an encouraging grin. “You can go have your kissy-face and sexy-times with Touya now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shindou grinned back, as if to say “Sad Shindou is gone for now, thank you.” The poor guy had to be tired of being such an emotional flip-flopper so much.
As Waya watched Shindou walk away, he wondered if any of those scenes Shindou was doing today would have Sai in them. And if Shindou was going to tell Touya about Sai today (again). How much heartbreak did a guy have to method act his way through until enough was enough?
Sometimes Waya didn’t envy Shindou at all.
He looked down at his own character sheet and re-read it. Yeah, it was all pretty accurate. Or rather, Waya usually acted in ways that fit the creator’s wishes decently well.
I tend to get in fights and punch Mashiba’s lights out, check. Lively and considerate, check. Unappreciated by Shindou, check.
Waya frowned. He was kind of a sucker, wasn’t he? "It says ‘good guy’ three times," he noted aloud.
"Interesting, isn't it?" a familiar voice chimed in. "I think maybe you might be a good guy."
"Hi, Isumi." Waya summoned up a smile for his friend.
"So what do you think about this?" Isumi waved his own character sheet. “Why would they send this reminder to us? Do you think we’ve been OOC lately?”
“Who knows?” Waya shrugged. “Honestly, when we’re making out like bunnies or doing Harry Potter crossovers and crap like that, how are we supposed to judge whether we’re in-character or not?”
“You have a point.” Isumi paused for a moment, then said, “Don’t tell me you’re doing a Harry Potter crossover.”
“First assignment today.”
"Ah.” There wasn’t really anything more Isumi needed to say.
"Yeah," Waya sighed. "Anyway, I better go. Crossovers always involve a lot of setting up and getting used to."
“Good luck.” Isumi gave him a pat on the head. “I’ll be thinking of you while I make out with Saeki.”
Waya sighed. It really was all about the porn.
-----
Waya was in Hogwarts.
Argh.
"Hi," said a very red-headed kid, who seemed very at home in his plushy armchair and not inclined to sit up any time soon, much less stand up to introduce himself. How extraordinarily rude!
Waya blinked. Did he always sound quite so British in his head?
"Hi," he said, wondering what language he was speaking, and with what accent.
"You must be new here. I'm Ron Weasley." The guy said it like he expected Waya to know what that meant. Which Waya did, because hello Harry Potter main character, but he didn't have to acknowledge the guy.
"Um, hi. I'm Waya. Waya Yoshitaka. Or Yoshitaka Waya. Whatever you prefer." As he spoke he noted that the table in front of Weasley did not have a script on it. Which meant that Waya would have to make conversation until the script arrived. Which was something that was not going to go well, he just knew it. He suddenly wished he had a little less professional pride so that he could show up two minutes late for everything, like Shindou. But then Shindou had a busy schedule and could always pretend it wasn't his fault, whereas Waya was just an ordinary plebe with no valid excuses for lateness.
Weasley gave him a wary look. "Yeah, I've worked with plenty of you anime types before. 'Waya' is your last name, right? I'll just call you that, unless the script tells me otherwise. You ever been to Hogwarts?"
Since Waya hadn't been offered his own plushy chair, he pulled a rather ornate but uncomfortable metal chair up to the table and sat down in a very pointed manner. "No, not that I can recall, but my friend Shindou has, more than once. Oh, and I think Touya too." He took a quick glance at his surroundings (standard European-ish stone castle, bad lighting, greyish tinge to everything except Weasley's hair) and decided that he didn't really need to have the grand tour to know there be dragons here, literally. "Standard fantasy stuff, right?"
Weasley didn't look too appreciative of that comment. "Well, I wouldn't say 'standard fantasy.' We don't have elves. Except house elves."
"But dark lords and unicorns and whatnot, right?"
"Well...yes."
"That's good. So, I see you're wearing a wizard's robe. Do you put on a wizard's hat sometimes too?"
"No, we're not that old-fashioned...well, Dumbledore is...but anyway, the script will probably have Hermione explain Hogwarts, A History to you in disgusting amounts of detail, so let's move on. What do you know about magic?"
Waya didn't know what Hermione or Hogwarts, A History were, but he wasn't sure he cared. "Well, if this is a school of magic then I suppose you wave your hands around and say some magic words, and stuff happens, generally? Or is it singing or soul-bonding with dragons or something here?"
"We have wands, and we have to study spells and potion-making and arithmancy and um I'm not enrolled in that last one." Weasley seemed to be struggling to stay professional now. "It's not easy."
"Sorry," said Waya, not feeling sorry at all. He'd had a bad morning. Also, what was it that Hotta-san had written about him? 'Short tempered and gets into fights,' wasn't it? He felt like he could get into a fight right now, if he weren't so professional. He looked at Weasley and felt offended by all that red hair. "I hope you don't expect me to know everything about your world just because, you know, Harry Potter. I've never watched your movies."
"We also have books."
"I've heard that."
"Hm."
"Hm."
An ancient-sounding clock chimed just then, but nothing happened.
Weasley tapped his foot.
Waya folded his arms.
"I hope the script gets here soon," Waya said, if only to say something.
"I hope it's a good script."
"Yeah." He glanced at Weasley's red hair again. "I don't have to give you relationship advice, do I? I always have to do that."
Weasley gave him a weird look for far too long (Was he gay? Well, everyone was gay, so probably). And then he laughed suddenly, surprisingly. "Let me guess, you're the sidekick guy?"
The question hit far too close to home for Waya's liking. "And you're not? The series isn't called Ron Weasley and the World Revolves Around Him, is it?"
"Oh, shut it," said Weasley, whose blue eyes were actually quite nice-looking now that they weren’t so surly. "I'm just glad you're not one of those main character types. They're always strutting around like they own all the stories."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Waya agreed vigorously. Wow, suddenly Weasley wasn't quite so annoying anymore. "I mean, do I ever get to be the legendary prophesied hero? Do I ever get hit by cars or kidnapped or cloned? (Well, maybe that last one.) Do I ever get to make out with babes?"
"Well, it's usually more with blokes. Like Malfoy, ugh."
"Or Touya, ugh."
Waya met Weasley's eyes, and even though they had no idea who the other was talking about, they understood each other completely in that moment.
If I end up having to make out with him it won't be too bad, Waya caught himself thinking.
(Yes, everyone was gay.)
"You know what the worst thing is?" Weasley asked. "When you have a canon girlfriend, and half the world thinks she's better with Harry Potter than you. 'Canon girlfriend jumps ship!' is what I call it." He looked rather proud of himself for that one, but angry at the same time.
"Ah," said Waya, who didn't have Weasley's problem and had thus suddenly lost his vibe of mutual understanding. "That's tough."
"Let me guess." Weasley eyed Waya up and down. "It's all gay gay gay in your world, right?"
"Pretty much."
"Anime types." Weasley flapped his hands around, wrists deliberately and offensively limp. "No offense, but you people are really weird. Like, you know the guy who changes into a girl when you splash water on him? And then he makes out with a pig or a cat or something sometimes, and gets off on being hit by girls with mallets?"
Waya shook his head, annoyed at being lumped in with something as...wrong as that. It was probably a weirdo porn series. And had nothing to do with go. "I don't know that one, sorry."
"Really? I thought it was pretty famous."
"There's a lot of media out there, I don't know most of it. My social circle is really small."
"Huh," hmphed Weasley, clearly not impressed. "Well, I just have to say that, from my crossover experiences, you anime types are really weird. And they think they're the centre of the universe, even when they come here.
"Yes, because here is the centre of the universe."
Weasley seemed to be ramping up for a rant and didn't catch Waya's sarcasm. "And the writers are really mental. So obsessed with Japan. The characters they write can barely speak properly, it's all kawaii this and watashi-sama that. And even their actual English isn't proper English, ugh."
"Was that a racist comment?" Waya asked, genuinely curious.
"Racist? Oh, no, it's not because you're Jap, I mean Japanese, nothing like that, you know." Weasley's flush matched his freckles. "No, nothing like that. It's just that, sorry, I get a bit worked up about English because I'm British."
"British?" Waya blinked. What did that have to do with anything?
"Yeah, I'm British, Harry Potter's British, anyone who's anyone's British? You ever heard about Brit-picking, you know?"
"Brit...pricking? Pricking?" Waya rolled that word around in his mouth a little. It sounded...kind of...bad. "Um, sorry for being thick...but not, like, that kind of...thick...um, I mean, it's just I've never heard that term before and I know you run in somewhat more, uh, European circles than I do, so maybe using words like 'pricking' isn't such a big deal for you--"
"Picking, you nob, picking. Like berry-picking, flower-picking, nose-picking and so forth?"
"What's a nob?"
"...Just forget that part, all right?"
"Picking, then. Picking Brits? For what, a soccer team?"
"No, that's not what it means at all (god I sound like Hermione), and for god's sake it's football, call the sport where you kick the ball around with your foot football please. I can't believe the Japanese of all people say soccer when they mean football, don’t you have some pretty good teams, and, what were we supposed to be on about?"
Waya had to think hard, past all the pricking and picking and football images he'd come up with, to remember their original topic. "You were complaining about English because you're British."
"Yes! Because Americans can't write British people properly." Weasley glared at Waya, as if he might be an American in disguise. "Americanisms in our dialogue, it's terrible. Always sounds wrong."
Waya shrugged. "Technically, I'm speaking Japanese."
"Yes, but you're obviously being translated into American English."
Waya shrugged again. "I don't really know the difference."
"Yes, but when you come to this world it's important to know the difference."
"Really. How do you know you're not being written by an American right now?"
Weasley opened his mouth to say something (probably something rude), then closed it. He appeared to be thinking, no doubt a difficult task for him. Sure enough, he soon gave up and sunk even further into his armchair.
"I really hate crossovers, they bring all sorts of problems," he finally spat out.
Waya just rolled his eyes in response, but Weasley didn't seem to notice.
"Hey, you know what's worse than crossovers?"
Waya did not actually want to know, but he was sure he would be told.
"That RP stuff, that always gives me the jibblies. When they use RP (Real People) for RP (Role Playing), right, but they don't even make it P (Pron) for god's sakes, they just write crappy PWP (Plot Without Porn) crap and so what's the P (Point)?"
"Excuse me?" Waya wasn't sure if he'd been insulted or not.
"You've gotta speak the jive, man," Weasley was grinning and definitely not sounding very British. "You never heard of RP? Role playing?"
"Oh, that. Yeah, I have some experience with it."
"Creepy as hell, don't you think? Pretending you're someone else to fulfill some sort of pathetic fantasy."
Waya coughed, not sure how to take that coming from Ron Weasley, the Boy Who Was Jealous of Harry Potter, but at that moment there was a slight popping sound and a thick stack of paper dropped neatly on the table in front of him. An identical stack appeared less neatly on Weasley's lap.
"Finally," said Waya.
"Finally," Weasley echoed with obvious relief. He actually sat up straight in his chair so he could begin leafing through the script. "Let's see what we've got here."
Waya scanned through “Waya and the Weasley” quickly. It looked like a pretty standard scenario--go player accidentally gets transported to famously enchanted castle via a cursed goban slash Portkey slash plot device, collides with Ron ‘Sidekick’ Weasley and some girl with an unpronounceable name, girl rants for a long while about how Portkeys can't bring people into Hogwarts, they all tool around the school for a bit, lack of plot happen happens, porn happens, blah blah blah.
Waya already felt like yawning.
Weasley actually did yawn. "Okay, it looks like we meet up, we quarrel with each other, Hermione yells at me (what else is new), we joke around a little, you teach me to play go with a capital "g", whatever that means, we play Go for a while, Hermione lectures us on getting enough sleep, so we go to bed but there isn't an extra bed so I offer you mine and then you fall into the limpid pools of the blueness of my eyes and we snog." He eyed Waya with obvious distaste. "Oh, fuck me."
"No, it doesn't say I have to do that."
Ron checked the script. “Right, I’m on top.” He paused. “Well, at least there’s that.”
Waya rolled his eyes.
---
Back at the Institute.
Argh.
"I had the best morning," Shindou informed him glowingly--the kid’s name was Hikaru, after all--as if his earlier Sai angst-related symptoms (SARS) hadn’t happened at all. "I was in a Dragonball crossover. I was Goku."
Waya stared. And stared and stared. Even from Shindou this was intolerable. "You lucky bastard!"
"I know, right? I kamehameha'ed Vegeta (Touya with lots of hairspray) into the stratosphere! And then I turned into a giant monkey and destroyed the earth! And then I got killed by Freeza (Ogata in a white metal suit)!"
"Aaaargh, stop torturing me!"
"And then you (Kuririn) and Isumi (Tenshinhan) found all seven dragon balls (offscreen) and brought me back to life!"
"I said stop torturing--hey, this Dragonball crossover of yours has nothing to do with go."
Shindou waved a hand. "Details, details. How was your foray into the world of Harry Potter?"
Waya shivered. "I learned English real propah."
"What?"
"Sorry, British trauma."
"Ugh, I've been through that."
"Yeah."
"Aaaaanyway," Shindou said, "we have a scene together now, right? Any idea what it’s about?"
“No idea.” Waya shook his head, glad for the change of topic. “Isn’t it from that long story you’ve been doing for a while? The one you always complain about?”
“That’s the one,” Shindou grimaced. “The writer’s pen name is HikaruLuvsAkira4ever. The name of the story is ‘Hikaru Loves Akira Forever.’ We’re up to chapter fifty-two.”
“I feel so happy to be a part of this masterpiece,” Waya said, but with a big ha-ha-sucks-to-be-you grin. Sure, he wasn't happy about being dragged into the dreck, but he did totally feel happy about getting to watch Shindou suffer. Schadenfreude was really his only source of joy nowadays.
But then Waya saw Ogata coming toward them and suddenly he forgot the meaning of happiness altogether. Why always the white suit? Didn't the writers not have other wardrobe ideas? Were they all just unfashionable people?
“For you,” Ogata said, barely looking at Waya as he handed him a single sheet of paper. Then the man in white turned slightly pink as he turned to Shindou and handed him a whole binder full of script. “For you, special delivery. I look forward to your performance with Akira-kun, Shindou.”
Shindou gave the binder a dubious look. “This is porn, isn’t it?”
“There may be some sex.” Ogata started lighting a cigarette nonchalantly. “But I meant that I’m looking forward to your go.”
“This writer has no idea how to play go. The games she writes don’t make any sense.”
“Yes, well.” Ogata gave Shindou an easy grin, though his face was still a little pink. “As long as it’s you two, it’ll be interesting.”
And then Ogata sauntered away, in that evil jerkface way of his.
"I don't remember Ogata being that creepy in canon, do you?" Shindou said after about two second of silence.
"No, I think he's just become that way, over the years."
"Kuwabara too, you think?"
“Maybe.”
"And I've became a blonde ditz," Shindou said with a theatrical sigh.
"Or maybe an idiot savant?" Waya gave Shindou a little shove. "Stop complaining. You are a bit of a ditz in canon too. If it weren't for me you wouldn't even know how to write kifu."
"Whatever. You know that my ignorance about go is just an excuse for people like you to provide some exposition to the readers, right?" Shindou said.
"Ooh, someone knows some big words. Have you actually been paying attention to all those literary stories you've starred in over the years?"
"You're just jealous."
It was true. Waya wasn't sure whether he was glad or not that Shindou never seemed to realize how true.
In fact, Shindou was looking at his watch now and ignoring Waya like the prima donna he was. "I better get going, okay? Gotta learn my lines." Shindou hefted his hefty binder with a sad little oomph. "Someone has to carry all this narrative weight," he joked.
Waya waved his one piece of paper in response. "Yeah, I'll go learn my lines too. I'm sure it'll take me a long time"
"Nice. See you there."
"Yeah, see you there."
Shindou tried to saunter off casually à la Ogata, but with the binder in his arms it was more of a shamble than a saunter.
Watching his friend, Waya decided to amend his earlier thought. Yes, Waya was jealous of Shindou Hikaru...but not enough to wish he was in his shoes.
---
On set again.
Argh.
This particular set was a port of some kind. Waya knew it was a port because there was water and a big dock and some people in sailor suits milling around aimlessly. The sailor suits looked like they came out of a Gilbert and Sullivan production, whatever that was. Everything was kind of gaudy and vaguely defined. The author didn't know much about ports, apparently.
Also, there was a big sign flashing above his head that said WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS AHEAD!!!
"What, seriously?" he grumbled. "They introduce me fifty-two chapters into this story just to kill me off?"
He looked at his script for the first time.
Hikaru and Akira smiled at each other lovingly then looked out the window of their cruise ship and saw Waya and Akari on the dock, waving enthusiastically. Waya was wearing his best camo pants and Akari was wearing a beautiful purple dress that matched her purple hair beautifully. The sun was shining brightly so they (Hikaru and Akira) could see this clearly even from far away.
"My friends Waya and Akari are here to welcome us back after our honeymoon. They're dating," Hikaru explained.
"Oh," said Akira.
The happy couple on the ship waved back at the happy couple on the dock as the ship got closer to the dock. But then...they kept getting closer and closer to the dock but the boat wasn't slowing down at all. Closer...closer...still not slowing down. In fact they were speeding up!
"Oh kami-sama!" Hikaru yelled, "We're going to hit the dock!"
They hit the dock.
The last image Hikaru had of his friends were their shocked, horrified, terrified faces as the boat rammed them in the faces. He would keep this image with him forever because Akira kindly snapped a photo of it on his new iPhone 5S just as it was happening.
"Oh Akira!" Hikaru cried and buried his face in Akira's strong, manly chest.
"There there," Akira soothed soberly. He would have to comfort Hikaru all night long after this, he knew.
Waya stared at the script.
And kept staring.
Shindou had been doing this for fifty-two chapters?
Wow.
Well, at least Waya didn't have to memorize any lines.
“Down the rabbit hole again, huh?” said a female voice. "Or rather, down into the Pit of Voles again."
"Hi Akari," Waya said. She was wearing a purple dress to match her purple hair, just like the script said. "This story is so bad I'm going to die. Literally, I am going to die. In the story. You too."
She took a step forward--her high heels made her trip a little on the dock planks--and grimaced prettily. “I hate dying. It just completely ruins my day. And my hair and makeup. Do you know how long it takes to make me look like this?”
Waya actually had no idea. “At least this time we're not getting hit by a car or anything boring like that. This time we get...death by boat. How does anyone get death by boat?”
Akari sighed and looked out to sea, where the cruise ship was lurking ominously, looking like nothing so much as a big white Titanic from Titanic. Apparently, the author didn't really know what a modern cruise ship looked like either. Akari gave a melancholy nod. "We all have to die sometime."
"Multiple times. This is all Shindou's fault, of course."
“Classic hurt/comfort, right?”
Waya made an "ewww" face. "I hate the fact that I'm dying just so that freaking Touya Akira can get his jollies on with Shindou. Again."
"At least you're not the Wisteria Maiden," Akari said.
"Huh? What's that?"
She gave a long-suffering sigh. "Basically, the girl whose love is unrequited. I help the readers see what Shindou is really in love with--go and Touya Akira--and I get ignored."
"Ouch."
"Our names are even similar. Akari and Akira."
"I feel for you," Waya said fervently. "I always get hauled into stories to be Shindou's relationship counselor. And I'm a pro but I'm always losing to Shindou and Touya. Totally sucks."
Akari gave him a sharp look. "Excuse me? You're one of the most popular characters out there. And don't talk to me about being bad at go."
Whoa. Waya almost wanted to take a step back. Akari had suddenly gotten aggressively OOC here. "Uh..." he said intelligently.
But Akari wasn't even looking at him. "Why did I have to be stuck in a goddamn Shounen Jump series?" she groused and started rummaging around in her terrifyingly purple purse for something. For what? Anti-Waya mace? A cute purple pistol? Was this going to turn into a mafia AU? But no--it was just a crumpled sheet of paper. Akari waved it in front of his face and said, "You know my new character description in the kanzenban? It's not even about me at all. You wanna take a look, huh? Punk?"
Waya didn't want to die so he took a look.
2) Mitani Yuki, Tsutsui Kimihiro, Fujisaki Akari
All of Haze Middle School's members developed through heated battles. While they do think of the club's activities as just play, it's not that way at all either. Their games feel far more passionate than pro matches.
During my research, I had a game with a high school go club.
The boy at the second board was at a complete advantage, and he played calmly and relaxedly.
But, in the endgame, he made just one mistake, and in an instant, I made a comeback.
The boy's contorted face. And his voice forcing out, "I have lost."
Standing up, he returned to his friends, saying "I totally lost," with a pained smile. Then, he went into a corner of the room and cried silently.
I will always remember not only the members of Haze Middle School, but also that boy.
"Uh," said Waya. "Yeah, that was totally not about you specifically."
“How many stories are there about your stupid existential angst,” Akari ranted, “and how many are there about mine? So you're not as good as Hikaru at go. So what? My whole goal in life is to be left behind.”
"Hey, I think you're pretty well-represented in the fandom!" Waya protested. "I mean, you're a girl--"
Akari's orange eyes turned murderous.
Waya blinked. "Are your eyes really orange?"
"They are in the anime, kind of, but don't interrupt me mid-rant!"
Just then, Waya was saved by yet another giant flashing sign appearing right next to the one that said WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS AHEAD!!!
The new sign said, though not audibly because it was a sign:
Actors are reminded that they are a HAPPY COUPLE. Please stand there and look pretty. Please smile and wave. Please look young and full of life to increase the tragedy level. Please do not attempt to dodge the boat.
"We are not a happy couple," Akari yelled at the sign, which was a sure sign that she was going insane. "I do not always have to be paired up with someone! And I am not here to fulfill some Bechdel quotient either!"
Geez, was she having her period or something? "Calm down, angry feminist," Waya said, hoping to soothe the wild girl-beast. He hoped he was good at this. "I don't know what a Bechdel is, but I'm sure the quotient is being filled by someone else."
"No, it's not. This stupid series has hardly any girls in it, so it's practically all on me and Nase! I don't even know her and I end up in scenes with her all the time!"
"But I think it's great when you and Nase do stories together! Actually, I really like it when you two do...stuff together." Despite his fear, Waya raised an eyebrow or two suggestively. And then he saw her face, and was quick to say, "Uh, because it's good to represent minorities like gay girls or whatever, right?"
"Unless it's tokenism," Akari growled.
"Tokenism? Like in arcades?"
"ARGH!" Akari actually arghed, even though "argh" is not really a word, much less a verb. "It's not FAIR! Why am I stuck in this dumb boy universe? WHY?"
The wind in the harbour started to blow madly, causing the waves to froth, just like how Akari was frothing at the mouth. Purple hair whipped around her head crazily and a faint orange aura appeared around her, matching her eye colour. Waya was seriously starting to wonder if he was going to get to do that Dragonball crossover after all.
Then, suddenly, Akari's aura faded away. The wind died down, the waves stopped frothing.
STOP ACTING OOC, said a voice from above, and it wasn't the God of Go talking.
Just like that Akari was back to her sweet, normal self...if that was truly who she ever was.
"I hope Hikaru and Touya-kun enjoyed their cruise!" she said, as bright as her name. She was smiling cutely and doing her cute pose from the third anime opening.
It was really creepy.
Eventually, after several long moments of Waya gaping, Akari strode over to him, tucked her arm into his, tucked his jaw back into place, and faced them out to sea.
"Yoshitaka dear," she said, nudging him gently with her elbow. "Smile for the camera. The Shindou-Touya ship is coming in."
Somehow Waya smiled for the camera.
---
Back at the Institute.
Argh.
Dying had been kind of painful. He still had splinters in his hair.
But more painful than that...Waya had a lot to think about now, and thinking hurt his head. Akari had really done a number on his fragile psyche, going Son Goku on his ass like that, and then suddenly turning into Bambi. OOC didn't even begin to cover it.
It was all a puppet show, he concluded. He'd already known that, but seeing that the writers could just...turn someone into something like that. He thought of Ogata and Kuwabara again, how over the years they'd morphed into perverts and creepsters or something, and how Shindou swung from angstmoppet to superditz to delusional psychopath all the time, and he wondered:
Am I really myself, the real Waya Yoshitaka? Or am I just a convenient fiction for someone to put bits of themselves into? The way Akari is?
Poor girl. In that stupid pre-scene scene they did together she was just a construct to help Waya have this idiotic epiphany he was having now. Heck, Waya was just a construct made to fulfill his own wishes, which in turn were just the wishes of some poor deluded person out there with delusions of godhood, or at least writerhood.
And even thinking this made him feel guilty, because what had Akari said? Something about his existential angst getting way more play than hers, and weren't his thoughts right now proof of that? He was the PoV, he was in control of these thoughts here, wasn't he?
Wasn't he?
This was all getting way too deep for him.
"Waya? Hey, Waya, can you hear me?" said Isumi.
Apparently Isumi had been talking for a while, judging by the concerned look on his face.
"Sorry. I died today," Waya offered as way of explanation. It was the truth, if not the whole truth. "I'm really tired."
"That sucks," Isumi said, with real sympathy. "But you're done for the day, right?"
"Yeah." Waya shoved his hands into his pockets. "Isumi-san, we're not done for the day. "We're being written right now. We have no control over what's happening. We're...we're..."
"Characters in a story." Isumi gave him a curious look. "But I think we already knew that. Are you getting existential angst again?" He put a hand on Waya's forehead in mock concern.
Waya batted the hand away. "Shindou might be happy here, spinning his little universes, but I'm not. I don't want to be just a figment of someone else's imagination."
"Not just someone's imagination," said Isumi. "A lot of people's."
"What difference does that make?"
"...Well, since you mentioned universes, you know how every time we play, aren't we making a universe between the two of us? And every person you play with, every game you play, that's just another tale, another piece of a bigger universe, isn't it? We all add to the fabric of that universe."
Waya groaned. "Don't get all cosmo-whatsical on me. You sound like Shindou with all those go metaphors."
"Shindou isn't always wrong, you know." He could almost hear the grin in Isumi's voice.
"You can't say all the crap they make us do is part of some beautiful universal scheme or whatever. You know what stupid thing I had to do with stupid Ron Weasley today?"
"Ron Weasley? Isn't that--"
"Yeah, Harry Potter's sidekick."
"My condolences. You didn't have to, er, did you?"
"Let's just say it was more than snogging," said Waya with a shiver.
"Snogging?"
"Sorry, I'm Brit-pricking myself now."
"...Brit-what-ing?"
"I don't understand," said Waya, "how Shindou never asks these kinds of questions."
"About British stuff?"
"About life, the universe, everything."
"Maybe he does, when he's by himself."
"No." Waya shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't. He just, you know, knows that he's supposed to be here, and he's happy enough with that."
"If only the rest of us were that content with our place in the world." Isumi nudged Waya gently. "Come on. Let's go to sleep."
Waya closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. "Yeah, fine."
They headed to the Room of Profound Darkness.
It was profoundly dark.
Because this was where they went when it was time to disappear.
Waya could feel his friend's eyes on his back as he stepped into the room.
"Are you okay?" Isumi asked softly. Everyone spoke softly when they were in here.
"Of course I'm okay." Waya forced his voice to be light. "It's just this room, you know."
Waya walked to the end of the room, stood in front of the shadowy alcove that was there. His eyes had already adjusted to the dark. He could see the flowers in the alcove were fresh.
"This is all just play, right? It isn't real. We're not real."
Isumi didn't answer at first. He walked past Waya toward the alcove, and knelt before the display.
"But look at this," he said. "Look at these flowers. They're alive." He rubbed an orchid petal between two fingers. It was ghostly white in the dark. "I can feel them and smell them. This is real enough for me."
"But only because someone put them there!" Waya retorted in frustration. "Because someone wanted you to say the things you just said, so that you could answer the thing I said, and then I'd get angry, like I'm doing now!"
Isumi dropped his hand from the flower, and answered, "This is the kind of argument that doesn't end, you know."
Waya sighed. "Yeah, I know."
"This is real. More than just words on a page. We matter enough to be here."
"For now, but what if the people making us...you know, alive, lose interest? We'll disappear forever, won't we, and no one will know we ever existed. We're not real."
"Aren't we?" said Isumi, voice quiet in the dark. "We're as real as the go we play."
"I feel like I've heard that line before," Waya said wryly. "It's not exactly helpful, when the go we play is as made-up as we are. It's all just airy-fairy."
Isumi got up from the floor. "Just because we're not flesh and blood doesn't mean we're not real. Sai was real. He is real, to a lot of people."
"But he's practically defined by his not being here." Waya thought of Hotta-sama's latest description of Shindou Hikaru: Sai disappears./The day that was meant to come came./Perhaps that's all it was. Waya kind of hated that description. "Is it fair to Shindou that he has to go through that loss again and again? It's as if the writers would rather wank off to his angst than let him be happy."
"Sometimes they let him be happy. Quite frequently, in fact."
"Yeah, well maybe he's happy being their toy, but I'm not." Waya scowled. "I'm not happy not being real."
"What about me? Are you not happy with who I am either?"
It was enough to give Waya pause.
Isumi could be a real jerk sometimes.
"Of course not," Waya answered, because what else could he say? "If it weren't for you I think I'd be Shindou's romance counsellor 24/7. At least when I do a scene with you, I'm there because I'm...you know, not just a plot device."
"Then what's the problem? Most of the other characters don't even get that much."
"Yeah." Waya thought guiltily of Akari. She'd been a plot device for him today. "It's just..sometimes I get tired. Doesn't it all feel empty at times, to you?"
Isumi took one step closer. He put his hands on Waya's shoulders, pushed firmly downward. Together they lowered their bodies until they were sitting seiza on the tatami, so close their knees were almost touching.
"Do you think," Isumi's voice was quiet, intimate, "the words we say have no value? Do you think just because we tell the same stories over and over, there isn't a reason for it?"
It was so unfair. Isumi was still a jerk, but he was also way more beautiful than a guy had any right to be. Waya found himself studying those dark eyes, how the colour was softened by the low, almost-gone light, and yet at the same time brought into sharp focus by--by their closeness, by the heavy stillness that always filled this room--Waya didn't know. He couldn't think or speak, not when he was caught in that gaze. Surely Isumi Shinichiro was someone's fantasy made flesh, because how else could anyone have such kind eyes, such a gentle voice?
"And there's love," said that voice.
"Uh...what?”
“Sometimes in stories I tell you I love you, and you tell me you love me, and then we live happily ever after.”
“Okay, I’m pretty sure you’re doing that out-of-character thing now.”
"And since when have you been such a skeptic?" Isumi chided, still gently. "You've always believed in go and in Sai and all these things we're supposed to believe in. That's our world right there. I'm the one who's the wanderer."
"Ah, so you read your character sketch thing after all." Waya looked up at his friend. "At least you're tall, you know."
"What?"
"If I'm going to be paired with anyone, I'm glad it's someone tall."
Isumi quirked an eyebrow, but he was smiling. "Good night, Waya."
"Or rather, 'The End.'"
"But 'there is no end.'"
"Except when everyone loses interest."
"Then we have to keep them interested enough." Isumi gave that some thought. "I guess that's what all the porn is for."
"Are you saying we're prostitutes?"
"It's not like that."
"It could be worse," Waya said softly. "We could be ghosts."
In time, when everyone forgot them, that's what they would become.
"Not yet," said Isumi.
They waited there for a time, listening to the sound of their own heartbeats, thinking about the meaning of those heartbeats in a fictional world.
But...there were two heartbeats here. That would have to be enough.
It was so dark; Waya thought he could feel the world dissolving around him unseen, and him along with it. What happened to him whenever he closed his eyes to sleep? What happened to Isumi, to Shindou? To Sai, who hardly existed to begin with?
"Can you imagine doing this forever?" he whispered.
Isumi, as always, knew the right thing to say.
"With you? Yes."
Waya breathed out a small breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.
Then, holding Isumi's hand tightly, he closed his eyes to sleep.
- End -
EPILOGUE (because there is no end)
Akari sipped her tea and gave Kaneko a sad little smile. "I was completely OOC today," she said. "I got really angry at Waya-kun for some reason. I think I was about to do a kamehameha."
Kaneko nodded. "Oh yeah, I heard there was a Dragonball crossover today."
"No, I wasn't in that story."
"Really? That's too bad."
"I know. I wanted to be Vejita."
"Everyone wants to be Vejita. I want to be Piccolo and blow up the moon."
"That would be pretty cool," Akari sighed. "But it's probably for the best that we didn't get to do that Dragonball story. We'd probably just end up cheering on the boys from the sidelines, as usual."
Kaneko sat back and crossed her arms. "I take it something happened today."
Akari nodded. "I think...the author was using me to help Waya-kun learn something. That's why I was OOC."
"So you nearly did a kamehameha on him?."
"Yes. I think I was a caricature of an angry feminist."
"Which is a terrible and limiting stereotype." Kaneko paused. "Not that there's anything wrong with being angry and feminist. But...this is kind of unfair, isn't it? You having to go OOC just to help Waya out. It's not like the guy needs more exposure."
"He thinks he does."
"He just has an inferiority complex."
"It's part of his character."
"Yeah." Kaneko showed her own character by scowling. "Well, at least people know his full name. Most people think Kaneko is my given name."
Akari tried to hide her surprise. "Right! That's right." She took a gulp of her tea and remembered that Kaneko's given name was Masako. She always forgot that.
Kaneko (Masako?) was giving her a flat-eyed look, so Akari started talking again. "Anyway, um, thanks for listening. There's not much I can do about the situation, so--"
"There is something you can do."
"Huh?" Akari put down her tea too quickly and spilled a little. "There is?"
"Yeah. You can demand an apology."
"From Waya-kun?"
"No. From the one whose fault it really is."
Kaneko pointed up at the ceiling.
The paper ceiling.
The...electronic paper ceiling.
Akari got a look on her face like a light coming on. (Her name was Akari after all.) "You mean the author?"
"Yep." Kaneko still had that flat-eyed look, as if the animators had gotten lazy drawing her. "The author."
"Oh, but isn't that a little...rude?"
"Isn't using someone as a plot device rude?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"So ask!"
"Okay!" This time Akari fully spilled her tea, in her haste to stand up. "Author! I beseech you--"
"No beseeching!"
"I demand you apologize to me--"
"To you, Fujisaki Akari!"
"To me, Fujisaki Akari! I demand you apologize for using me as a plot device to help Waya Yoshitaka get over his inferiority complex!"
Akari raised a fist, a powerful! fist! of feminist solidarity! while Kaneko looked on and nodded her approval.
They waited.
And waited.
Until finally...
i'm sorry, the electronic paper ceiling said in a tiny voice.
Akari cupped a hand around her ear. "What did you say?"
I'M SORRY.
"Well, that's better."
"Damn straight," said Kaneko, and ordered her friend another cup of horrible Go Institute tea.
It was bitter, but Akari drank it anyway.
THE REAL END.
---
Author's Notes:
For the longest time I didn't post the end of this story because I felt so vaguely guilty about what I'd done to Akari. Then I wrote the epilogue and my guilt was assuaged, if only vaguely.
Many thanks to hkfoot for posting translations of the Sketchbook Character Notes (part 1 and part 2) that came out with the Kanzenban editions of the Hikago manga a while back. They are very awesome!
Also thank you to stirring-still for her essay Intentional Ambiguity - coded references to same-sex attraction in Hikaru no Go, which is where I learned about the Wisteria Maiden. It is also very awesome!
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Characters: Waya, Hikaru, Isumi, Akari
Genre: Meta disguised as fic
Wordcount: 8662
Warnings: Lots of mentions of porn but no actual porn.
Summary: Waya is a character in a story and he knows it. It gives him existential angst.
Note: The first half of this story was submitted to round 14 of
blind_go. Sorry it took so long to post the second half of the story. Waya in Storyland
Another day at the Institute.
Argh.
"Gather round, children," Kuwabara Honinbou cackled, "it's story time."
In response to this pronouncement there was a general mumble of disinterest, followed by a generally disinterested general shuffle in the Honinbou’s general direction. A lineup kind of sort of started to form, but only because some unlucky sobs were shoved into it.
"Gee, I wonder what exciting new tales of wonder we'll get today," said Waya to no one in particular as he dragged himself to the back of the line. Standing in line sucked. Especially this line.
Case in point: directly in front of Waya, a rather large-ish man was scratching at his comb-over and spilling dandruff all over the place.
Further ahead in line, Gokiso the one-trick shyster was loudly complaining about the lousy pay of this job, i.e. no pay at all.
Kurata, just behind him, offered to give Gokiso an autograph if he was that hard up.
And from way at the front of the line, Ochi's could be heard practically shrieking, “I have to crossdress again?!”
“What a lucky young man you are,” Kuwabara said in an almost desultory way as he shoved Ochi out of the lineup.
Why, Waya wondered for the gazillionth time, did anyone write stories about go players? What kind of crazy people did that?
People with way too much time on their hands, obviously.
"Yo," said Shindou, coming up behind Waya and saying “yo” the same way he did every day. He was late to the party, as usual, but as usual as soon as he showed up the party got started, metaphorically. The room always got brighter and more...main character-ish when Shindou was around..
“Yo,” Waya said back, not even annoyed at the Shindou light show anymore, he was so used to it.
They shuffled forward in line.
"So...think I'll do some scenes with Touya today?"
Waya made a face, which was useless since Shindou was behind him, but whatever. "You're always doing stuff with Touya, and it's always the same stuff, so why do you even think about it? You play Go, you contemplate the Hand of God, you have a fight, you make up, you make kissy-face, you make sexy-times, the end. Why would today be any different?"
"Hey, sometimes I have gigs with you guys too, you know." Shindou went on the defensive, which was rare in his games but common enough in his everything else. "Remember that conversation I did with you last week? That was pretty well-done, I think."
"But it was a conversation about your love-life with Touya."
"Yeah..."
"It had nothing at all to do with me! I just got dragged in to be your damn therapist."
"True, but--"
"And that was my only appearance in that story."
"But at least you got to do something, right? I mean, you get way more scenes than most people."
"Yeah, but half the time when I make an appearance I'm just there to give you someone to complain to. Maybe more than half the time. I feel so used, so violated." Waya put a hand on his heart theatrically. He was only half-kidding, but he tried to keep his voice light.
Shindou was totally clueless. "And the other half of the time you're there to make passionate love to Isumi," he said with a grin. It's not like Waya really wanted or expected the idiot to understand, anyway. Shindou would never understand what it was like to be secondary character.
Sighing a little, Waya picked some second-hand dandruff out of his bangs--ew--and decided to just get on with the conversation.
"But everyone has to do the passionate love thing,” he said. “Not necessarily with Isumi," Waya amended hastily, "but, you know, porn."
Shindou nodded. He would know all about that. "Sometimes I think it's all about the porn."
"It is all about the porn."
“No shame in it.”
“We all have to do it.”
Suddenly, Waya realized they were already almost at the front of the line; only dandruff man separated them from Kuwabara. A horrible old-man ho-ho-ho rang through the air. "I agree! Everyone should do porn. It's good exercise. Especially for us older folks."
As Mr. Dandruff shuffled off from the line in an awkward, freaked-out way, Kuwabara winked at Waya, whose soul absolutely curdled and molded and all sorts of other cheesy metaphorical things.
“Come closer, young ones,” the Honinbou gestured at Waya and Shindou with one gnarled, pockmarked finger. “Let old man Kuwabara give you a story.”
“You think we’ve be used to the trauma by now,” Shindou commented as they moved forward.
The old man was rifling through the sheaf of papers in his hands. “You’re quite the popular ones, you two.”
He handed two sheets of paper to Waya, and a whole stack of the things to Shindou.
Waya scanned through his first assignment quickly. “What the hell? A Harry Potter crossover? Shoot me now. How come there’s hardly any info here?”
“The writer hasn’t planned anything yet beyond the initial concept,” Kuwabara told him. “Just go to your location and wait. Maybe eventually they’ll figure out what the hell you'll be doing.” Then the old geezer leered. “As you noted, it’ll probably be porn.”
“Yeargh.” Waya wondered if his face was turning as green as his camo pants. Why did he always have to wear camo? “Shindou, let’s go, now.”
"Wait, what’s this?" Shindou was staring at one of his assignment sheets and not paying attention to Waya at all. "At the back here, this ‘reminder from Hotta-sama and Obata-sama’ thing?"
Kuwabara squinted at the paper. “Oh, you do remember when that new edition of the manga came out. There were some new ‘character sketchbook’ sections at the back of each volume, with info on all us important characters."
“Oh yeah, I kind of vaguely remember that,” said Shindou, in his usual vague way.
“Mine says I’m fond of horse racing. Legalized gambling,” Kuwabara noted. “And it says I know how to enjoy life, unlike most other Go players. I like it. You should take a look at Ogata-kun’s entry. I like that one too.”
Waya really did not like the old man’s smirk. “So why are those character sketchbook things on our assignment sheets today? It’s old news.”
“Our glorious creators just wanted to remind us of who we’re supposed to be, since we occasionally forget.”
“Right,” said Waya, “because with all the porn starring we do, it’s hard to forget that we’re actually from a kids manga about a board game.”
“The character sketches are more about characterization than Go,” Kuwabara reminded them. “The message is ‘try to stay in-character, even during the porn scenes.’ Which you’ll most certainly be doing. Now get going.” He waved them off, and they gladly started moving away from the lineup so the Honinbou could start terrorizing his next victims.
"I take back what I said earlier," Waya said to Shindou. "Now I feel so used, so violated."
“Yeah.”
Shindou was still acting all inattentive--his usual airheadedness, really--but...Waya could tell it was a different kind of airheadedness now. Shindou had turned into Serious Shindou. Was it about the character sketchbook thing? Waya grabbed the stack of assignment sheets out of Shindou’s hands so he could find out whatever the heck had sucked his friend’s brain out even more than usual.
13) Shindo Hikaru
The day Sai disappeared was May 5th, Children's Day.
That day, from the window of Hikaru's room, you could see carp streamers swimming energetically.
The carp streamers are a symbol of a child's growth. If you think about it, Hikaru has also grown quite a lot.
Sai disappears.
The day that was meant to come came.
Perhaps that's all it was.
Every year on the fifth of May, particularly when it's a clear day with impatient winds, I look up at the sky.
Hikaru surely does this too.
“Oh,” said Waya, as tongue-tied as ever when it came to the sadder side of Shindou’s character. Waya just didn’t have this kind of trauma in his backstory so he didn’t know how to deal with it. And besides, he was never the one Shindou talked to about this stuff--that was always Touya, in all those “Shindou finally reveals that Sai was a ghost” stories that had been done to death over the years.
And Waya was pretty sad about Sai too, truth be told. But his sadness wasn't anything like Shindou's sadness, so it wasn't like he could really help. And there was nothing to be done anyway. Sai just wasn't around much.
Shindou took his assignment papers back, wordlessly. Waya, for lack of something better to do, looked down at his own character sketch. There was nothing traumatic in it. He showed it to Shindou.
4) Waya Yoshitaka
He's a "good guy," although he is short tempered and gets into fights. Rather than a "nice boy," he's more of a "really good guy."
Actually, when I was asked to write a few short pieces outside the main storyline, I also wrote a story for Waya (but it was turned down). Even so, he's a good guy who gets along really well with his fellow disciple Saeki and the other insei.
Lively and also considerate of others, Waya is liked by his peers.
"Straightforward and single-minded," Waya is well taken care of by his master.
Waya is Hikaru's lifelong friend.
Hikaru may not notice the value of that until he becomes an adult, though.
“I’m straightfoward and single-minded, and I am well-taken by Morishita-sensei. Great,” said Waya with a roll of his eyes, hoping it would get Shindou’s mind off himself.
“Single-minded? Really?” Shindou said with a faint smile. “More like simple-minded.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, I should go. I’ve got eleven scenes to do today. I'll see you later? Looks like my second story has you in it.”
“Yeah, I should go too.” Waya only had two scenes, but he had to keep up appearances. He gave his friend what he hoped was an encouraging grin. “You can go have your kissy-face and sexy-times with Touya now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shindou grinned back, as if to say “Sad Shindou is gone for now, thank you.” The poor guy had to be tired of being such an emotional flip-flopper so much.
As Waya watched Shindou walk away, he wondered if any of those scenes Shindou was doing today would have Sai in them. And if Shindou was going to tell Touya about Sai today (again). How much heartbreak did a guy have to method act his way through until enough was enough?
Sometimes Waya didn’t envy Shindou at all.
He looked down at his own character sheet and re-read it. Yeah, it was all pretty accurate. Or rather, Waya usually acted in ways that fit the creator’s wishes decently well.
I tend to get in fights and punch Mashiba’s lights out, check. Lively and considerate, check. Unappreciated by Shindou, check.
Waya frowned. He was kind of a sucker, wasn’t he? "It says ‘good guy’ three times," he noted aloud.
"Interesting, isn't it?" a familiar voice chimed in. "I think maybe you might be a good guy."
"Hi, Isumi." Waya summoned up a smile for his friend.
"So what do you think about this?" Isumi waved his own character sheet. “Why would they send this reminder to us? Do you think we’ve been OOC lately?”
“Who knows?” Waya shrugged. “Honestly, when we’re making out like bunnies or doing Harry Potter crossovers and crap like that, how are we supposed to judge whether we’re in-character or not?”
“You have a point.” Isumi paused for a moment, then said, “Don’t tell me you’re doing a Harry Potter crossover.”
“First assignment today.”
"Ah.” There wasn’t really anything more Isumi needed to say.
"Yeah," Waya sighed. "Anyway, I better go. Crossovers always involve a lot of setting up and getting used to."
“Good luck.” Isumi gave him a pat on the head. “I’ll be thinking of you while I make out with Saeki.”
Waya sighed. It really was all about the porn.
-----
Waya was in Hogwarts.
Argh.
"Hi," said a very red-headed kid, who seemed very at home in his plushy armchair and not inclined to sit up any time soon, much less stand up to introduce himself. How extraordinarily rude!
Waya blinked. Did he always sound quite so British in his head?
"Hi," he said, wondering what language he was speaking, and with what accent.
"You must be new here. I'm Ron Weasley." The guy said it like he expected Waya to know what that meant. Which Waya did, because hello Harry Potter main character, but he didn't have to acknowledge the guy.
"Um, hi. I'm Waya. Waya Yoshitaka. Or Yoshitaka Waya. Whatever you prefer." As he spoke he noted that the table in front of Weasley did not have a script on it. Which meant that Waya would have to make conversation until the script arrived. Which was something that was not going to go well, he just knew it. He suddenly wished he had a little less professional pride so that he could show up two minutes late for everything, like Shindou. But then Shindou had a busy schedule and could always pretend it wasn't his fault, whereas Waya was just an ordinary plebe with no valid excuses for lateness.
Weasley gave him a wary look. "Yeah, I've worked with plenty of you anime types before. 'Waya' is your last name, right? I'll just call you that, unless the script tells me otherwise. You ever been to Hogwarts?"
Since Waya hadn't been offered his own plushy chair, he pulled a rather ornate but uncomfortable metal chair up to the table and sat down in a very pointed manner. "No, not that I can recall, but my friend Shindou has, more than once. Oh, and I think Touya too." He took a quick glance at his surroundings (standard European-ish stone castle, bad lighting, greyish tinge to everything except Weasley's hair) and decided that he didn't really need to have the grand tour to know there be dragons here, literally. "Standard fantasy stuff, right?"
Weasley didn't look too appreciative of that comment. "Well, I wouldn't say 'standard fantasy.' We don't have elves. Except house elves."
"But dark lords and unicorns and whatnot, right?"
"Well...yes."
"That's good. So, I see you're wearing a wizard's robe. Do you put on a wizard's hat sometimes too?"
"No, we're not that old-fashioned...well, Dumbledore is...but anyway, the script will probably have Hermione explain Hogwarts, A History to you in disgusting amounts of detail, so let's move on. What do you know about magic?"
Waya didn't know what Hermione or Hogwarts, A History were, but he wasn't sure he cared. "Well, if this is a school of magic then I suppose you wave your hands around and say some magic words, and stuff happens, generally? Or is it singing or soul-bonding with dragons or something here?"
"We have wands, and we have to study spells and potion-making and arithmancy and um I'm not enrolled in that last one." Weasley seemed to be struggling to stay professional now. "It's not easy."
"Sorry," said Waya, not feeling sorry at all. He'd had a bad morning. Also, what was it that Hotta-san had written about him? 'Short tempered and gets into fights,' wasn't it? He felt like he could get into a fight right now, if he weren't so professional. He looked at Weasley and felt offended by all that red hair. "I hope you don't expect me to know everything about your world just because, you know, Harry Potter. I've never watched your movies."
"We also have books."
"I've heard that."
"Hm."
"Hm."
An ancient-sounding clock chimed just then, but nothing happened.
Weasley tapped his foot.
Waya folded his arms.
"I hope the script gets here soon," Waya said, if only to say something.
"I hope it's a good script."
"Yeah." He glanced at Weasley's red hair again. "I don't have to give you relationship advice, do I? I always have to do that."
Weasley gave him a weird look for far too long (Was he gay? Well, everyone was gay, so probably). And then he laughed suddenly, surprisingly. "Let me guess, you're the sidekick guy?"
The question hit far too close to home for Waya's liking. "And you're not? The series isn't called Ron Weasley and the World Revolves Around Him, is it?"
"Oh, shut it," said Weasley, whose blue eyes were actually quite nice-looking now that they weren’t so surly. "I'm just glad you're not one of those main character types. They're always strutting around like they own all the stories."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Waya agreed vigorously. Wow, suddenly Weasley wasn't quite so annoying anymore. "I mean, do I ever get to be the legendary prophesied hero? Do I ever get hit by cars or kidnapped or cloned? (Well, maybe that last one.) Do I ever get to make out with babes?"
"Well, it's usually more with blokes. Like Malfoy, ugh."
"Or Touya, ugh."
Waya met Weasley's eyes, and even though they had no idea who the other was talking about, they understood each other completely in that moment.
If I end up having to make out with him it won't be too bad, Waya caught himself thinking.
(Yes, everyone was gay.)
"You know what the worst thing is?" Weasley asked. "When you have a canon girlfriend, and half the world thinks she's better with Harry Potter than you. 'Canon girlfriend jumps ship!' is what I call it." He looked rather proud of himself for that one, but angry at the same time.
"Ah," said Waya, who didn't have Weasley's problem and had thus suddenly lost his vibe of mutual understanding. "That's tough."
"Let me guess." Weasley eyed Waya up and down. "It's all gay gay gay in your world, right?"
"Pretty much."
"Anime types." Weasley flapped his hands around, wrists deliberately and offensively limp. "No offense, but you people are really weird. Like, you know the guy who changes into a girl when you splash water on him? And then he makes out with a pig or a cat or something sometimes, and gets off on being hit by girls with mallets?"
Waya shook his head, annoyed at being lumped in with something as...wrong as that. It was probably a weirdo porn series. And had nothing to do with go. "I don't know that one, sorry."
"Really? I thought it was pretty famous."
"There's a lot of media out there, I don't know most of it. My social circle is really small."
"Huh," hmphed Weasley, clearly not impressed. "Well, I just have to say that, from my crossover experiences, you anime types are really weird. And they think they're the centre of the universe, even when they come here.
"Yes, because here is the centre of the universe."
Weasley seemed to be ramping up for a rant and didn't catch Waya's sarcasm. "And the writers are really mental. So obsessed with Japan. The characters they write can barely speak properly, it's all kawaii this and watashi-sama that. And even their actual English isn't proper English, ugh."
"Was that a racist comment?" Waya asked, genuinely curious.
"Racist? Oh, no, it's not because you're Jap, I mean Japanese, nothing like that, you know." Weasley's flush matched his freckles. "No, nothing like that. It's just that, sorry, I get a bit worked up about English because I'm British."
"British?" Waya blinked. What did that have to do with anything?
"Yeah, I'm British, Harry Potter's British, anyone who's anyone's British? You ever heard about Brit-picking, you know?"
"Brit...pricking? Pricking?" Waya rolled that word around in his mouth a little. It sounded...kind of...bad. "Um, sorry for being thick...but not, like, that kind of...thick...um, I mean, it's just I've never heard that term before and I know you run in somewhat more, uh, European circles than I do, so maybe using words like 'pricking' isn't such a big deal for you--"
"Picking, you nob, picking. Like berry-picking, flower-picking, nose-picking and so forth?"
"What's a nob?"
"...Just forget that part, all right?"
"Picking, then. Picking Brits? For what, a soccer team?"
"No, that's not what it means at all (god I sound like Hermione), and for god's sake it's football, call the sport where you kick the ball around with your foot football please. I can't believe the Japanese of all people say soccer when they mean football, don’t you have some pretty good teams, and, what were we supposed to be on about?"
Waya had to think hard, past all the pricking and picking and football images he'd come up with, to remember their original topic. "You were complaining about English because you're British."
"Yes! Because Americans can't write British people properly." Weasley glared at Waya, as if he might be an American in disguise. "Americanisms in our dialogue, it's terrible. Always sounds wrong."
Waya shrugged. "Technically, I'm speaking Japanese."
"Yes, but you're obviously being translated into American English."
Waya shrugged again. "I don't really know the difference."
"Yes, but when you come to this world it's important to know the difference."
"Really. How do you know you're not being written by an American right now?"
Weasley opened his mouth to say something (probably something rude), then closed it. He appeared to be thinking, no doubt a difficult task for him. Sure enough, he soon gave up and sunk even further into his armchair.
"I really hate crossovers, they bring all sorts of problems," he finally spat out.
Waya just rolled his eyes in response, but Weasley didn't seem to notice.
"Hey, you know what's worse than crossovers?"
Waya did not actually want to know, but he was sure he would be told.
"That RP stuff, that always gives me the jibblies. When they use RP (Real People) for RP (Role Playing), right, but they don't even make it P (Pron) for god's sakes, they just write crappy PWP (Plot Without Porn) crap and so what's the P (Point)?"
"Excuse me?" Waya wasn't sure if he'd been insulted or not.
"You've gotta speak the jive, man," Weasley was grinning and definitely not sounding very British. "You never heard of RP? Role playing?"
"Oh, that. Yeah, I have some experience with it."
"Creepy as hell, don't you think? Pretending you're someone else to fulfill some sort of pathetic fantasy."
Waya coughed, not sure how to take that coming from Ron Weasley, the Boy Who Was Jealous of Harry Potter, but at that moment there was a slight popping sound and a thick stack of paper dropped neatly on the table in front of him. An identical stack appeared less neatly on Weasley's lap.
"Finally," said Waya.
"Finally," Weasley echoed with obvious relief. He actually sat up straight in his chair so he could begin leafing through the script. "Let's see what we've got here."
Waya scanned through “Waya and the Weasley” quickly. It looked like a pretty standard scenario--go player accidentally gets transported to famously enchanted castle via a cursed goban slash Portkey slash plot device, collides with Ron ‘Sidekick’ Weasley and some girl with an unpronounceable name, girl rants for a long while about how Portkeys can't bring people into Hogwarts, they all tool around the school for a bit, lack of plot happen happens, porn happens, blah blah blah.
Waya already felt like yawning.
Weasley actually did yawn. "Okay, it looks like we meet up, we quarrel with each other, Hermione yells at me (what else is new), we joke around a little, you teach me to play go with a capital "g", whatever that means, we play Go for a while, Hermione lectures us on getting enough sleep, so we go to bed but there isn't an extra bed so I offer you mine and then you fall into the limpid pools of the blueness of my eyes and we snog." He eyed Waya with obvious distaste. "Oh, fuck me."
"No, it doesn't say I have to do that."
Ron checked the script. “Right, I’m on top.” He paused. “Well, at least there’s that.”
Waya rolled his eyes.
---
Back at the Institute.
Argh.
"I had the best morning," Shindou informed him glowingly--the kid’s name was Hikaru, after all--as if his earlier Sai angst-related symptoms (SARS) hadn’t happened at all. "I was in a Dragonball crossover. I was Goku."
Waya stared. And stared and stared. Even from Shindou this was intolerable. "You lucky bastard!"
"I know, right? I kamehameha'ed Vegeta (Touya with lots of hairspray) into the stratosphere! And then I turned into a giant monkey and destroyed the earth! And then I got killed by Freeza (Ogata in a white metal suit)!"
"Aaaargh, stop torturing me!"
"And then you (Kuririn) and Isumi (Tenshinhan) found all seven dragon balls (offscreen) and brought me back to life!"
"I said stop torturing--hey, this Dragonball crossover of yours has nothing to do with go."
Shindou waved a hand. "Details, details. How was your foray into the world of Harry Potter?"
Waya shivered. "I learned English real propah."
"What?"
"Sorry, British trauma."
"Ugh, I've been through that."
"Yeah."
"Aaaaanyway," Shindou said, "we have a scene together now, right? Any idea what it’s about?"
“No idea.” Waya shook his head, glad for the change of topic. “Isn’t it from that long story you’ve been doing for a while? The one you always complain about?”
“That’s the one,” Shindou grimaced. “The writer’s pen name is HikaruLuvsAkira4ever. The name of the story is ‘Hikaru Loves Akira Forever.’ We’re up to chapter fifty-two.”
“I feel so happy to be a part of this masterpiece,” Waya said, but with a big ha-ha-sucks-to-be-you grin. Sure, he wasn't happy about being dragged into the dreck, but he did totally feel happy about getting to watch Shindou suffer. Schadenfreude was really his only source of joy nowadays.
But then Waya saw Ogata coming toward them and suddenly he forgot the meaning of happiness altogether. Why always the white suit? Didn't the writers not have other wardrobe ideas? Were they all just unfashionable people?
“For you,” Ogata said, barely looking at Waya as he handed him a single sheet of paper. Then the man in white turned slightly pink as he turned to Shindou and handed him a whole binder full of script. “For you, special delivery. I look forward to your performance with Akira-kun, Shindou.”
Shindou gave the binder a dubious look. “This is porn, isn’t it?”
“There may be some sex.” Ogata started lighting a cigarette nonchalantly. “But I meant that I’m looking forward to your go.”
“This writer has no idea how to play go. The games she writes don’t make any sense.”
“Yes, well.” Ogata gave Shindou an easy grin, though his face was still a little pink. “As long as it’s you two, it’ll be interesting.”
And then Ogata sauntered away, in that evil jerkface way of his.
"I don't remember Ogata being that creepy in canon, do you?" Shindou said after about two second of silence.
"No, I think he's just become that way, over the years."
"Kuwabara too, you think?"
“Maybe.”
"And I've became a blonde ditz," Shindou said with a theatrical sigh.
"Or maybe an idiot savant?" Waya gave Shindou a little shove. "Stop complaining. You are a bit of a ditz in canon too. If it weren't for me you wouldn't even know how to write kifu."
"Whatever. You know that my ignorance about go is just an excuse for people like you to provide some exposition to the readers, right?" Shindou said.
"Ooh, someone knows some big words. Have you actually been paying attention to all those literary stories you've starred in over the years?"
"You're just jealous."
It was true. Waya wasn't sure whether he was glad or not that Shindou never seemed to realize how true.
In fact, Shindou was looking at his watch now and ignoring Waya like the prima donna he was. "I better get going, okay? Gotta learn my lines." Shindou hefted his hefty binder with a sad little oomph. "Someone has to carry all this narrative weight," he joked.
Waya waved his one piece of paper in response. "Yeah, I'll go learn my lines too. I'm sure it'll take me a long time"
"Nice. See you there."
"Yeah, see you there."
Shindou tried to saunter off casually à la Ogata, but with the binder in his arms it was more of a shamble than a saunter.
Watching his friend, Waya decided to amend his earlier thought. Yes, Waya was jealous of Shindou Hikaru...but not enough to wish he was in his shoes.
---
On set again.
Argh.
This particular set was a port of some kind. Waya knew it was a port because there was water and a big dock and some people in sailor suits milling around aimlessly. The sailor suits looked like they came out of a Gilbert and Sullivan production, whatever that was. Everything was kind of gaudy and vaguely defined. The author didn't know much about ports, apparently.
Also, there was a big sign flashing above his head that said WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS AHEAD!!!
"What, seriously?" he grumbled. "They introduce me fifty-two chapters into this story just to kill me off?"
He looked at his script for the first time.
Hikaru and Akira smiled at each other lovingly then looked out the window of their cruise ship and saw Waya and Akari on the dock, waving enthusiastically. Waya was wearing his best camo pants and Akari was wearing a beautiful purple dress that matched her purple hair beautifully. The sun was shining brightly so they (Hikaru and Akira) could see this clearly even from far away.
"My friends Waya and Akari are here to welcome us back after our honeymoon. They're dating," Hikaru explained.
"Oh," said Akira.
The happy couple on the ship waved back at the happy couple on the dock as the ship got closer to the dock. But then...they kept getting closer and closer to the dock but the boat wasn't slowing down at all. Closer...closer...still not slowing down. In fact they were speeding up!
"Oh kami-sama!" Hikaru yelled, "We're going to hit the dock!"
They hit the dock.
The last image Hikaru had of his friends were their shocked, horrified, terrified faces as the boat rammed them in the faces. He would keep this image with him forever because Akira kindly snapped a photo of it on his new iPhone 5S just as it was happening.
"Oh Akira!" Hikaru cried and buried his face in Akira's strong, manly chest.
"There there," Akira soothed soberly. He would have to comfort Hikaru all night long after this, he knew.
Waya stared at the script.
And kept staring.
Shindou had been doing this for fifty-two chapters?
Wow.
Well, at least Waya didn't have to memorize any lines.
“Down the rabbit hole again, huh?” said a female voice. "Or rather, down into the Pit of Voles again."
"Hi Akari," Waya said. She was wearing a purple dress to match her purple hair, just like the script said. "This story is so bad I'm going to die. Literally, I am going to die. In the story. You too."
She took a step forward--her high heels made her trip a little on the dock planks--and grimaced prettily. “I hate dying. It just completely ruins my day. And my hair and makeup. Do you know how long it takes to make me look like this?”
Waya actually had no idea. “At least this time we're not getting hit by a car or anything boring like that. This time we get...death by boat. How does anyone get death by boat?”
Akari sighed and looked out to sea, where the cruise ship was lurking ominously, looking like nothing so much as a big white Titanic from Titanic. Apparently, the author didn't really know what a modern cruise ship looked like either. Akari gave a melancholy nod. "We all have to die sometime."
"Multiple times. This is all Shindou's fault, of course."
“Classic hurt/comfort, right?”
Waya made an "ewww" face. "I hate the fact that I'm dying just so that freaking Touya Akira can get his jollies on with Shindou. Again."
"At least you're not the Wisteria Maiden," Akari said.
"Huh? What's that?"
She gave a long-suffering sigh. "Basically, the girl whose love is unrequited. I help the readers see what Shindou is really in love with--go and Touya Akira--and I get ignored."
"Ouch."
"Our names are even similar. Akari and Akira."
"I feel for you," Waya said fervently. "I always get hauled into stories to be Shindou's relationship counselor. And I'm a pro but I'm always losing to Shindou and Touya. Totally sucks."
Akari gave him a sharp look. "Excuse me? You're one of the most popular characters out there. And don't talk to me about being bad at go."
Whoa. Waya almost wanted to take a step back. Akari had suddenly gotten aggressively OOC here. "Uh..." he said intelligently.
But Akari wasn't even looking at him. "Why did I have to be stuck in a goddamn Shounen Jump series?" she groused and started rummaging around in her terrifyingly purple purse for something. For what? Anti-Waya mace? A cute purple pistol? Was this going to turn into a mafia AU? But no--it was just a crumpled sheet of paper. Akari waved it in front of his face and said, "You know my new character description in the kanzenban? It's not even about me at all. You wanna take a look, huh? Punk?"
Waya didn't want to die so he took a look.
2) Mitani Yuki, Tsutsui Kimihiro, Fujisaki Akari
All of Haze Middle School's members developed through heated battles. While they do think of the club's activities as just play, it's not that way at all either. Their games feel far more passionate than pro matches.
During my research, I had a game with a high school go club.
The boy at the second board was at a complete advantage, and he played calmly and relaxedly.
But, in the endgame, he made just one mistake, and in an instant, I made a comeback.
The boy's contorted face. And his voice forcing out, "I have lost."
Standing up, he returned to his friends, saying "I totally lost," with a pained smile. Then, he went into a corner of the room and cried silently.
I will always remember not only the members of Haze Middle School, but also that boy.
"Uh," said Waya. "Yeah, that was totally not about you specifically."
“How many stories are there about your stupid existential angst,” Akari ranted, “and how many are there about mine? So you're not as good as Hikaru at go. So what? My whole goal in life is to be left behind.”
"Hey, I think you're pretty well-represented in the fandom!" Waya protested. "I mean, you're a girl--"
Akari's orange eyes turned murderous.
Waya blinked. "Are your eyes really orange?"
"They are in the anime, kind of, but don't interrupt me mid-rant!"
Just then, Waya was saved by yet another giant flashing sign appearing right next to the one that said WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS AHEAD!!!
The new sign said, though not audibly because it was a sign:
Actors are reminded that they are a HAPPY COUPLE. Please stand there and look pretty. Please smile and wave. Please look young and full of life to increase the tragedy level. Please do not attempt to dodge the boat.
"We are not a happy couple," Akari yelled at the sign, which was a sure sign that she was going insane. "I do not always have to be paired up with someone! And I am not here to fulfill some Bechdel quotient either!"
Geez, was she having her period or something? "Calm down, angry feminist," Waya said, hoping to soothe the wild girl-beast. He hoped he was good at this. "I don't know what a Bechdel is, but I'm sure the quotient is being filled by someone else."
"No, it's not. This stupid series has hardly any girls in it, so it's practically all on me and Nase! I don't even know her and I end up in scenes with her all the time!"
"But I think it's great when you and Nase do stories together! Actually, I really like it when you two do...stuff together." Despite his fear, Waya raised an eyebrow or two suggestively. And then he saw her face, and was quick to say, "Uh, because it's good to represent minorities like gay girls or whatever, right?"
"Unless it's tokenism," Akari growled.
"Tokenism? Like in arcades?"
"ARGH!" Akari actually arghed, even though "argh" is not really a word, much less a verb. "It's not FAIR! Why am I stuck in this dumb boy universe? WHY?"
The wind in the harbour started to blow madly, causing the waves to froth, just like how Akari was frothing at the mouth. Purple hair whipped around her head crazily and a faint orange aura appeared around her, matching her eye colour. Waya was seriously starting to wonder if he was going to get to do that Dragonball crossover after all.
Then, suddenly, Akari's aura faded away. The wind died down, the waves stopped frothing.
STOP ACTING OOC, said a voice from above, and it wasn't the God of Go talking.
Just like that Akari was back to her sweet, normal self...if that was truly who she ever was.
"I hope Hikaru and Touya-kun enjoyed their cruise!" she said, as bright as her name. She was smiling cutely and doing her cute pose from the third anime opening.
It was really creepy.
Eventually, after several long moments of Waya gaping, Akari strode over to him, tucked her arm into his, tucked his jaw back into place, and faced them out to sea.
"Yoshitaka dear," she said, nudging him gently with her elbow. "Smile for the camera. The Shindou-Touya ship is coming in."
Somehow Waya smiled for the camera.
---
Back at the Institute.
Argh.
Dying had been kind of painful. He still had splinters in his hair.
But more painful than that...Waya had a lot to think about now, and thinking hurt his head. Akari had really done a number on his fragile psyche, going Son Goku on his ass like that, and then suddenly turning into Bambi. OOC didn't even begin to cover it.
It was all a puppet show, he concluded. He'd already known that, but seeing that the writers could just...turn someone into something like that. He thought of Ogata and Kuwabara again, how over the years they'd morphed into perverts and creepsters or something, and how Shindou swung from angstmoppet to superditz to delusional psychopath all the time, and he wondered:
Am I really myself, the real Waya Yoshitaka? Or am I just a convenient fiction for someone to put bits of themselves into? The way Akari is?
Poor girl. In that stupid pre-scene scene they did together she was just a construct to help Waya have this idiotic epiphany he was having now. Heck, Waya was just a construct made to fulfill his own wishes, which in turn were just the wishes of some poor deluded person out there with delusions of godhood, or at least writerhood.
And even thinking this made him feel guilty, because what had Akari said? Something about his existential angst getting way more play than hers, and weren't his thoughts right now proof of that? He was the PoV, he was in control of these thoughts here, wasn't he?
Wasn't he?
This was all getting way too deep for him.
"Waya? Hey, Waya, can you hear me?" said Isumi.
Apparently Isumi had been talking for a while, judging by the concerned look on his face.
"Sorry. I died today," Waya offered as way of explanation. It was the truth, if not the whole truth. "I'm really tired."
"That sucks," Isumi said, with real sympathy. "But you're done for the day, right?"
"Yeah." Waya shoved his hands into his pockets. "Isumi-san, we're not done for the day. "We're being written right now. We have no control over what's happening. We're...we're..."
"Characters in a story." Isumi gave him a curious look. "But I think we already knew that. Are you getting existential angst again?" He put a hand on Waya's forehead in mock concern.
Waya batted the hand away. "Shindou might be happy here, spinning his little universes, but I'm not. I don't want to be just a figment of someone else's imagination."
"Not just someone's imagination," said Isumi. "A lot of people's."
"What difference does that make?"
"...Well, since you mentioned universes, you know how every time we play, aren't we making a universe between the two of us? And every person you play with, every game you play, that's just another tale, another piece of a bigger universe, isn't it? We all add to the fabric of that universe."
Waya groaned. "Don't get all cosmo-whatsical on me. You sound like Shindou with all those go metaphors."
"Shindou isn't always wrong, you know." He could almost hear the grin in Isumi's voice.
"You can't say all the crap they make us do is part of some beautiful universal scheme or whatever. You know what stupid thing I had to do with stupid Ron Weasley today?"
"Ron Weasley? Isn't that--"
"Yeah, Harry Potter's sidekick."
"My condolences. You didn't have to, er, did you?"
"Let's just say it was more than snogging," said Waya with a shiver.
"Snogging?"
"Sorry, I'm Brit-pricking myself now."
"...Brit-what-ing?"
"I don't understand," said Waya, "how Shindou never asks these kinds of questions."
"About British stuff?"
"About life, the universe, everything."
"Maybe he does, when he's by himself."
"No." Waya shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he doesn't. He just, you know, knows that he's supposed to be here, and he's happy enough with that."
"If only the rest of us were that content with our place in the world." Isumi nudged Waya gently. "Come on. Let's go to sleep."
Waya closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. "Yeah, fine."
They headed to the Room of Profound Darkness.
It was profoundly dark.
Because this was where they went when it was time to disappear.
Waya could feel his friend's eyes on his back as he stepped into the room.
"Are you okay?" Isumi asked softly. Everyone spoke softly when they were in here.
"Of course I'm okay." Waya forced his voice to be light. "It's just this room, you know."
Waya walked to the end of the room, stood in front of the shadowy alcove that was there. His eyes had already adjusted to the dark. He could see the flowers in the alcove were fresh.
"This is all just play, right? It isn't real. We're not real."
Isumi didn't answer at first. He walked past Waya toward the alcove, and knelt before the display.
"But look at this," he said. "Look at these flowers. They're alive." He rubbed an orchid petal between two fingers. It was ghostly white in the dark. "I can feel them and smell them. This is real enough for me."
"But only because someone put them there!" Waya retorted in frustration. "Because someone wanted you to say the things you just said, so that you could answer the thing I said, and then I'd get angry, like I'm doing now!"
Isumi dropped his hand from the flower, and answered, "This is the kind of argument that doesn't end, you know."
Waya sighed. "Yeah, I know."
"This is real. More than just words on a page. We matter enough to be here."
"For now, but what if the people making us...you know, alive, lose interest? We'll disappear forever, won't we, and no one will know we ever existed. We're not real."
"Aren't we?" said Isumi, voice quiet in the dark. "We're as real as the go we play."
"I feel like I've heard that line before," Waya said wryly. "It's not exactly helpful, when the go we play is as made-up as we are. It's all just airy-fairy."
Isumi got up from the floor. "Just because we're not flesh and blood doesn't mean we're not real. Sai was real. He is real, to a lot of people."
"But he's practically defined by his not being here." Waya thought of Hotta-sama's latest description of Shindou Hikaru: Sai disappears./The day that was meant to come came./Perhaps that's all it was. Waya kind of hated that description. "Is it fair to Shindou that he has to go through that loss again and again? It's as if the writers would rather wank off to his angst than let him be happy."
"Sometimes they let him be happy. Quite frequently, in fact."
"Yeah, well maybe he's happy being their toy, but I'm not." Waya scowled. "I'm not happy not being real."
"What about me? Are you not happy with who I am either?"
It was enough to give Waya pause.
Isumi could be a real jerk sometimes.
"Of course not," Waya answered, because what else could he say? "If it weren't for you I think I'd be Shindou's romance counsellor 24/7. At least when I do a scene with you, I'm there because I'm...you know, not just a plot device."
"Then what's the problem? Most of the other characters don't even get that much."
"Yeah." Waya thought guiltily of Akari. She'd been a plot device for him today. "It's just..sometimes I get tired. Doesn't it all feel empty at times, to you?"
Isumi took one step closer. He put his hands on Waya's shoulders, pushed firmly downward. Together they lowered their bodies until they were sitting seiza on the tatami, so close their knees were almost touching.
"Do you think," Isumi's voice was quiet, intimate, "the words we say have no value? Do you think just because we tell the same stories over and over, there isn't a reason for it?"
It was so unfair. Isumi was still a jerk, but he was also way more beautiful than a guy had any right to be. Waya found himself studying those dark eyes, how the colour was softened by the low, almost-gone light, and yet at the same time brought into sharp focus by--by their closeness, by the heavy stillness that always filled this room--Waya didn't know. He couldn't think or speak, not when he was caught in that gaze. Surely Isumi Shinichiro was someone's fantasy made flesh, because how else could anyone have such kind eyes, such a gentle voice?
"And there's love," said that voice.
"Uh...what?”
“Sometimes in stories I tell you I love you, and you tell me you love me, and then we live happily ever after.”
“Okay, I’m pretty sure you’re doing that out-of-character thing now.”
"And since when have you been such a skeptic?" Isumi chided, still gently. "You've always believed in go and in Sai and all these things we're supposed to believe in. That's our world right there. I'm the one who's the wanderer."
"Ah, so you read your character sketch thing after all." Waya looked up at his friend. "At least you're tall, you know."
"What?"
"If I'm going to be paired with anyone, I'm glad it's someone tall."
Isumi quirked an eyebrow, but he was smiling. "Good night, Waya."
"Or rather, 'The End.'"
"But 'there is no end.'"
"Except when everyone loses interest."
"Then we have to keep them interested enough." Isumi gave that some thought. "I guess that's what all the porn is for."
"Are you saying we're prostitutes?"
"It's not like that."
"It could be worse," Waya said softly. "We could be ghosts."
In time, when everyone forgot them, that's what they would become.
"Not yet," said Isumi.
They waited there for a time, listening to the sound of their own heartbeats, thinking about the meaning of those heartbeats in a fictional world.
But...there were two heartbeats here. That would have to be enough.
It was so dark; Waya thought he could feel the world dissolving around him unseen, and him along with it. What happened to him whenever he closed his eyes to sleep? What happened to Isumi, to Shindou? To Sai, who hardly existed to begin with?
"Can you imagine doing this forever?" he whispered.
Isumi, as always, knew the right thing to say.
"With you? Yes."
Waya breathed out a small breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.
Then, holding Isumi's hand tightly, he closed his eyes to sleep.
- End -
EPILOGUE (because there is no end)
Akari sipped her tea and gave Kaneko a sad little smile. "I was completely OOC today," she said. "I got really angry at Waya-kun for some reason. I think I was about to do a kamehameha."
Kaneko nodded. "Oh yeah, I heard there was a Dragonball crossover today."
"No, I wasn't in that story."
"Really? That's too bad."
"I know. I wanted to be Vejita."
"Everyone wants to be Vejita. I want to be Piccolo and blow up the moon."
"That would be pretty cool," Akari sighed. "But it's probably for the best that we didn't get to do that Dragonball story. We'd probably just end up cheering on the boys from the sidelines, as usual."
Kaneko sat back and crossed her arms. "I take it something happened today."
Akari nodded. "I think...the author was using me to help Waya-kun learn something. That's why I was OOC."
"So you nearly did a kamehameha on him?."
"Yes. I think I was a caricature of an angry feminist."
"Which is a terrible and limiting stereotype." Kaneko paused. "Not that there's anything wrong with being angry and feminist. But...this is kind of unfair, isn't it? You having to go OOC just to help Waya out. It's not like the guy needs more exposure."
"He thinks he does."
"He just has an inferiority complex."
"It's part of his character."
"Yeah." Kaneko showed her own character by scowling. "Well, at least people know his full name. Most people think Kaneko is my given name."
Akari tried to hide her surprise. "Right! That's right." She took a gulp of her tea and remembered that Kaneko's given name was Masako. She always forgot that.
Kaneko (Masako?) was giving her a flat-eyed look, so Akari started talking again. "Anyway, um, thanks for listening. There's not much I can do about the situation, so--"
"There is something you can do."
"Huh?" Akari put down her tea too quickly and spilled a little. "There is?"
"Yeah. You can demand an apology."
"From Waya-kun?"
"No. From the one whose fault it really is."
Kaneko pointed up at the ceiling.
The paper ceiling.
The...electronic paper ceiling.
Akari got a look on her face like a light coming on. (Her name was Akari after all.) "You mean the author?"
"Yep." Kaneko still had that flat-eyed look, as if the animators had gotten lazy drawing her. "The author."
"Oh, but isn't that a little...rude?"
"Isn't using someone as a plot device rude?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"So ask!"
"Okay!" This time Akari fully spilled her tea, in her haste to stand up. "Author! I beseech you--"
"No beseeching!"
"I demand you apologize to me--"
"To you, Fujisaki Akari!"
"To me, Fujisaki Akari! I demand you apologize for using me as a plot device to help Waya Yoshitaka get over his inferiority complex!"
Akari raised a fist, a powerful! fist! of feminist solidarity! while Kaneko looked on and nodded her approval.
They waited.
And waited.
Until finally...
i'm sorry, the electronic paper ceiling said in a tiny voice.
Akari cupped a hand around her ear. "What did you say?"
I'M SORRY.
"Well, that's better."
"Damn straight," said Kaneko, and ordered her friend another cup of horrible Go Institute tea.
It was bitter, but Akari drank it anyway.
THE REAL END.
---
Author's Notes:
For the longest time I didn't post the end of this story because I felt so vaguely guilty about what I'd done to Akari. Then I wrote the epilogue and my guilt was assuaged, if only vaguely.
Many thanks to hkfoot for posting translations of the Sketchbook Character Notes (part 1 and part 2) that came out with the Kanzenban editions of the Hikago manga a while back. They are very awesome!
Also thank you to stirring-still for her essay Intentional Ambiguity - coded references to same-sex attraction in Hikaru no Go, which is where I learned about the Wisteria Maiden. It is also very awesome!
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Date: 2014-03-06 05:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-03-06 08:08 am (UTC)Akari <3 forevah!