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Hikaru, Akira muses, is not short. Not at 5′9″, no. That’s taller than the average Japanese man, and if he’s not mistaken, taller than most people he has met (they say sitting all day stunts growth, and well, he has only ever been around people who sit and play go). Now, he says most, because there are exceptions – and unfortunately he, Akira Touya, is one of those exceptions at 5′10″.
While they’ve been head-to-head in go over the last couple of years, they have been, quite literally, head-to-head. At twelve, Akira was taller. Then Hikaru hit a growth spurt around sixteen. And well, now they’re both nineteen and Akira has a good one-inch on Hikaru. That would be a good thing if Hikaru didn’t regularly exploit it.
“Can you get that?” and “I can’t reach it” are things Akira hears on the daily basis, and it’s not because Hikaru can’t reach them (Akira would bet his entire go career that Hikaru can) but because Hikaru’s a lazy, good for somewhat nothing –
Hmph.
Sure, there are times when Hikaru’s hands are full and he just happens to need something off the top shelf. In those cases, Akira would be more than happy to help – but most of the time, Hikaru’s requests don’t fall into those gracious “cases.”
“I’m only an inch taller,” Akira would say time to time while reaching for whatever item Hikaru needs. “You can reach it fine.”
He doesn’t understand why Hikaru’s asking him to do these things – but then one day, it clicks.
As usual, Hikaru makes his unreasonable request, Akira makes his offhanded comment, and when he goes to get the book on the top-top shelf, he catches Hikaru staring. Here’s the thing, though: Hikaru isn’t staring at him in a familiar way; rather, he’s staring at his bare stomach. Akira’s shirt had, unceremoniously so, risen up when he reached for the book.
Now, Akira isn’t one to call people out on their lack of civility, so he just straightens his shirt and hands the book over. Prim and proper, no deviancy, no remark.
But when Hikaru goes to return the book five minutes later (that’s proof that he can reach the top-top shelf), Akira can’t help but speak up.
“You know,” he says, without looking up from his own book, “this won’t work a month from now. I only wear t-shirts in the summer.”