Author's Note: Pet Shop of Horrors and Hikaru no Go crossover.

Disclaimer: I don't own PSoH nor do I own HnG.

Tipping the Scale

by SVZ

--

Akira usually tried to turn a deaf ear to the personal lives and gossip of pro players. After growing up with reporters hounding his father for interviews and then being a victim of the paparazzi constantly misquoting him, he would be much better off avoiding gossip columns and taking the rumors with a grain of salt.

The exception to his case was anything that involved SAI, the NetGo player. He supposed it was out of habit; Ogata and his father were still interested in SAI after nearly a decade and no matter how much Hikaru denied it, Akira knew the other Go pro had a role to play in SAI’s disappearance. He just wished Hikaru would trust him enough to tell him the truth instead of giving him the empty promise of “someday”; he realized years ago that Hikaru would probably take SAI’s secret to his grave.

Waya had pulled him aside after his match against Murata 9-dan, his brown eyes serious. They had become somewhat friendlier over the years, but not to the extent where they would consider each other “friends”, even the term “acquaintances” was pushing it.

“Touya, have you seen Shindou around lately?” Waya asked, selecting a Peach Ponta from the vending machine.

It took Akira a few moments to think, racking his brain for the last time he had met his rival. “I haven’t seen him for a couple weeks,” he answered, surprising himself. “We’re supposed to get together on Saturday at the Go Salon.”

Waya nodded briskly. “Right, right—listen, Touya… Shindou’s has been late for all his games recently, and he keeps missing or canceling his teaching sessions. Isumi and I have been trying to get together with him lately, but he keeps saying he’s busy. Would you happen to know what’s up?”

People were looking for him, Akira realized, distractedly. He shakes his head, “No, I’m sure it’s nothing,” he assured Waya. “Hikaru’s probably locked up in his apartment obsessing over his new favorite video game. Or he might be sick, you know how he can be.”

Waya looked doubtful, but bent over to retrieve his drink and nodded. “All right…” he said, skeptically. He hesitated, looking around at the currently empty hallways. “Tell Shindou to be careful, okay? People have been talking and they’re afraid he might stop Go again.”

“I’ll tell him to be careful,” Akira promised. “I bet it’s nothing.”

“Hope so,” Waya muttered darkly. He almost smiled in spite of himself. “You probably have a lot of people to attend to—beating Murata and all. Good game.”

As luck would have it, a reporter from Go Weekly brought the subject up.
“Touya-san, you’re close friends with Shindou Hikaru—how do you feel about his recent tardiness to games?”

“I think he’s having a midlife crisis early and has reverted back into his fourteen year old self,” Akira replied, jokingly.

“There’s been rumors of him quitting Go. What’s your opinion on the matter?”

“I think that’s nonsense,” Akira answered, trying to keep his voice neutral. “Shindou is determined to reach the Hand of God and he isn’t going to quit until he beats me. Since that’s not going to happen any time soon, I think it’s safe to say that he’ll be playing Go for a while.”

Akira had a feeling his answers could be drastically taken out of context once published, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. After answering a few more questions, he excused himself—he still had errands to run and he had promised to have dinner with his parents.

--

The rest of the week flew by quickly, leaving Akira with brief impressions of Shidougo games and a migraine.

He found himself at his father’s Go salon on Saturday, impatiently stirring his iced tea with his straw. He passed the time playing some teaching games with some of the regulars, but after a while--- even Ichikawa-san noticed his restlessness.

“Shindou-san is rather late today, isn’t he?” she commented, refilling his glass. She kept a sharp eye on her three year old. “Aya, leave Touya-san’s jacket alone.”

Touya shook his head, smiling. “I think she found my candy stash.”

“Aya—“ Ichikawa-san started, reprovingly.

“She can keep it, Ichikawa-san. I’m not too found of chocolate and it’ll melt soon.” Akira stole a look at his watch, “Excuse me for a moment? I think I’ll call Hikaru and see what’s keeping him…”

Once outside the Go parlor, Akira dialed Hikaru’s number and waited for him to pick up. It took four rings but Hikaru finally answered, sounding distracted.

“Yo, Shindou speaking. Who’s calling?”

Akira closed his eyes and counted to three. “Hikaru. Guess where I am?”

“The circus?” Hikaru guessed, sounding bewildered. Akira could almost picture Hikaru’s confused expression over his cell phone. “Hey Touya, what’s up?”

“Wrong. Try again.”

“You’re home?”

“Wrong again. I’m standing in front of my father’s Go salon.”

There was silence followed by Hikaru swearing loudly, “Oh shit, Touya—I’m sorry. I completely forgot about today—“

“I thought so,” Akira commented, dryly.

“—ah, dammit. You caught me at a really bad time… damn, damn, damn… are you busy tomorrow? There’s been a lot going on and Sai—I’ve been caught up with things.”

“Sai?” Akira asked, feeling his pulse racing. “Did you say Sai?”

“Um, yeah—it’s complicated, I got a new fish—and oh hell, Touya— I’m not making any sense--are you free tomorrow?”

Akira mentally rearranged his schedule. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a café near my house. We can meet there and I’ll explain what’s been going on.”

Akira hastily scribbled the date and time onto an unused napkin in his pocket. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah… and Touya? I’m sorry. Talk to you tomorrow.”

--

It wasn’t as though Hikaru was constantly late to everything. He outgrew that habit when he was a teenager, but first impressions died hard so Akira still felt surprised whenever he found Hikaru waiting for him.

Upon closer inspection, Hikaru looked paler and thinner than he remembered; his face seemingly more angular but Hikaru’s bright green eyes lit up when he saw him.

“Touya. You’re early.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line? So, tell me about your new fish,” Akira said, settling down at a booth. He ordered a coffee and a slice of strawberry cake, staring at Hikaru expectantly.

Hikaru hesitated. “It’s a long story… remember the Go conference in Yokohama a few weeks back? Well, Waya gave me directions to this Chinese restaurant—only, his handwriting sucks so I got lost and was wandering in Chinatown and found myself in a pet shop.

“It was really weird. The store seemed tiny from the outside but when I went in, it seemed endless. It was unnerving, really. The owner was kind of creepy, and there were literally animals everywhere… the owner said something weird to me. I can’t remember what exactly—but something about me still searching for someone or something and he knew exactly what I was looking for. About a half hour later—I was out of the store with a new pet fish.”

“Why name him Sai?”

Hikaru hesitated. “I-I don’t know… I just did.”

Akira sincerely doubted Hikaru’s excuse but let it slide. “You’ve been avoiding everyone for two weeks because of your new pet?”

“He requires a lot of attention,” Hikaru replied, defensively. “I’m not avoiding anyone.” He quickly checked his watch and abruptly stood up. “I have to go. Sai needs to be fed in about a half hour.”

“Can I watch?” At Hikaru’s startled expression, Akira added hastily. “I’m curious—I want to see Sai for myself.”

“… I don’t think you should.”

“Why?” Akira stared at Hikaru. “Does it have three heads or something?”

“No, nothing like that—it’s just…” Hikaru was seemingly struggling with something. “… Well, maybe. Quickly though- just for a moment.” He gave Akira a small smile, turned to the waitress, and paid the check.

--

Mondays were Akira’s least favorite day of the week It wasn’t as though it was because he had to go back to work—being a Go pro also meant that one had to have flexible schedules and he often worked on weekends. Mondays, however, always seemed to be a bit more hellish than others.

That day had been particularly stressful for him; by the time he reached his apartment, Akira was in dire need of some aspirin and sleep.

Midway through his pitiful attempts at making dinner (he honestly should have picked up some Chinese take-out on the way home), the phone rang. Throwing a desperate look at the stove, Akira decided that he was probably capable to answering the phone without burning down the kitchen and made a wild dash to the living room.

“T-Touya…?”

Akira blinked, confused. “Waya? How did you get my number?”

“I got it from—Isumi had it, and I…” Waya’s voice sounded muffled over the phone and shaky. “Touya…”

“Is something wrong? Is Isumi ill?” Akira’s mind flashed through a dozen scenarios, his imagination getting the better of him. “Oh god, is my father ill again? Are Ogata and Hikaru with him in the hospital?”

Waya made a strange noise, it sounded almost choked. “T-Touya… it’s about Shindou.”

The living room suddenly seemed too big and too cold.

“What about Hikaru?”

“There was a freak accident—I don’t know what happened… a few hours ago, I went over to Shindou’s apartment to get back a CD he borrowed, and he didn’t answer. He gave me a key a while back so I could let myself in whenever I wanted to instead of waking him up with my knocking. I found him in the bathtub—his clothes were soaked and he wasn’t breathing, it was like he drowned.”

“Drowned,” Akira repeated, slowly. The word didn’t have any meaning, how could Hikaru possibly drown—and in a bathtub nonetheless? Small children sometimes drowned in bathtubs, but even then that was unusual—how could Hikaru be so stupid as to actually think that he could put Waya up to trying to trick him… The calendar on the wall told him that was too early for April Fool’s day. Hikaru couldn’t be dead—he just saw him yesterday, they had dinner, and Hikaru showed him Sai—

Bathtub.

Sai.

Akira’s voice hitched. “What about Sai?”

“W-what?”

“What about Hikaru’s fish? He was in the bathtub yesterday when I was over. Hikaru said something about his aquarium being too small—where’s Sai?”

“Sai? Touya, what the hell are you--” Waya hesitated. “There weren’t any fish when I got there…only Shindou.”

No Sai… no fish… could he just have imagined it all? No, he couldn’t have. He could still see Hikaru’s grin and Sai’s flashing silvery-purple scales in the water in his mind. It happened yesterday. He was sure of it.

“That’s impossible,” Akira said softly. “I-I can’t accept this—Hikaru was fine yesterday, we had dinner and we were suppose to get together tomorrow. This isn’t—“

“Touya. Go get some sleep,” Waya told him, firmly even though his voice cracked. “It’s obvious you’re tired, and this will probably be even worse in the morning. Call me if you need me—this will probably make the news tonight, but go to bed before then.”

Akira hung up the phone, his thoughts still jumbled up in his mind and a cold, unfamiliar sensation settling in his stomach. His throat felt raw, as though he had been screaming.

When he reached the kitchen, he found out he managed to burn his noodles. Akira decided to skip dinner and turned on the news.

--

After nearly two weeks full of people telling him how sorry they were and how they “knew” how close he and Hikaru were, Akira thought though he would was going crazy. The funeral itself was a nightmare, as were facing Shindou’s parents and all his friends after it became well-known that he was the last person to see Hikaru alive.

Through it all, Akira felt something akin to numbness. He wasn’t sure if he was in denial or if grief just hadn’t caught up to him yet.

Hikaru’s death was dismissed as a freak accident puzzling authorities as well as friends and family. His death was unusual, as though he had drowned—but the bathtub wasn’t even half-full. Nothing seemed to add up—why Hikaru was still wearing the very same clothes Akira had seen him in the day before.

Akira didn’t mention Hikaru’s missing fish to anyone, keeping to himself. He was certain Waya was doing the same; convinced that Akira wasn't in his right mind when he received the phone call.

The fact that Sai was still missing bothered him continuously. It seemed too coincidental, too out of the ordinary for something like that to happen. Hikaru had been so hesitant about showing Sai to anyone and he seemed to really care of his pet if the short time Akira spent over at his apartment were any indication.

Hikaru had not only cooed at the silver-violet fish, he treated Sai like an actual person when he fed him small minnows. Akira remembered Hikaru’s behavior as odd, but didn’t say anything, thinking it was just another one of Hikaru’s quirks.

Something didn’t add up. He felt like he was only seeing a small part of a bigger, important puzzle.

That was how Akira found himself wandering up and down the streets of Chinatown, Yokohama.

--

It didn’t take him long to find the pet shop. It was located right near one of Chinatown’s finest bakeries (or so the name of the bakery claims) with a very misleading outward exterior. It looked small and cramped from the outside, if Akira hadn’t been careful—he would have thought it was a tiny café and kept on walking.

“Good afternoon, I’m Count D, I sell love and dreams.” A man seemed to have slipped out from the shadows, and Akira could understand why Hikaru had called him “creepy”, starting from his eccentric greeting. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, and could be almost mistaken for a woman (especially in his detailed cheongsam). Despite effeminate-looking features and pale skin, there was something very sinister about his smile that made Akira’s skin crawl. His smile never quite reached his eyes—and with a start—Akira realized Count D’s eyes were of different colors.

“Touya Akira,” Akira greeted. “I was wondering if you had a moment… I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Count D smiled, looking around the shop. “There’s no one else here except us, and business is slow around this time of the day. Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“That would be nice,” Akira answered and was ushered down a long hallway and into a large, comfortable back room. On the way, Akira encountered small animals: small dogs, cats—and he could have sworn he saw a small mountain goat.

“Cream or sugar?”

“Neither, thank you.”

The Count looked affronted but was too polite to say anything. Instead, he added four teaspoons of sugar into his own tea and liberal amounts of cream. “What did you wish to speak to me about?” he asked, curious, while cutting slices of an intricately designed three layer cake.

“My friend Shindou Hikaru bought a pet fish from here. I was very taken with it, and was wondering if you could give me the name of it so I could purchase one.” Akira looked at him in the eye.

The Count’s smile was enigmatic, almost as though he was reveling in a secret that Akira didn’t know. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose such personal details to another person.” Before Akira could open his mouth to protest he added, “Perhaps you should ask Shindou-san.”

“I’m afraid Hikaru passed away very recently.”

“I wasn’t aware of that, I’m sorry for your loss.” There was something about the way Count D that made Akira doubt his sincerity. “Even so, I cannot tell what type of fish Shindou-san purchased.”

“Why not?” Akira inquired, trying to conceal his gradual frustration.

“I honor my clients’ privacy. Certainly you must understand…” Count D’s eyes fastened onto Akira’s own. “I’m under the impression that you feel that I am responsible for your friend’s death.” Before Akira could deny or agree with his statement, the Count added, “After Shindou-san signs the contract, I am not accountable for anything that happens to the owner or the pet.”

“Contract?” Akira couldn’t recall Hikaru mentioning any contract to him.

“Many of my pets are rare and special, they can require quite a bit of care. I have all my customers sign a three term contract agreeing to three terms, and Shindou-san must have broken one of them.”

“Which term did he break?”

Count D gave him that same smile again. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you either. Would you care for some of this cake? It’s one of my favorites.”

The Count smoothly switched the topic to the weather and then onto Go once he realized that Akira was a professional player.

“Do you enjoy Go?” Akira asked, somehow not entirely too surprised by the other man’s interest in the game.

‘I used to be quite fond of it. I was in America for period of time, and I tried to teach someone I know the rules. I’m afraid he lacked the patience to learn and always referred to the game as ‘Chinese marbles chess’.”

“That’s an interesting title,” Akira commented, murmuring his thanks when Count D refilled his tea cup.

“He was a very interesting person. We used to play Go for cake and candy.”

“Who won?”

The Count smiled, cutting his fourth slice of Strawberry Sacher Torte. “Who do you think? He was never too fond of sweets to begin with and I think that might have affected his desire to play well.”

“You seem to like desserts quite a bit,” Akira observed.

Count D looked thoughtful. “A person I used to know said the same thing to me… I’m afraid he was convinced I was diabetic. I think I like desserts so much because they’re the only thing that humans can make that’s untainted and good.”

Although he mentioned he only had a passing interest in Go, Count D’s knowledge and thoughts on the subject were fascinating. Akira didn’t agree with some of the other man’s thoughts on Go but the Count’s arguments and points were well supported with facts and quotes from old Go players A half hour passed easily, before Akira remembered himself.

“I should probably catch a train back to Tokyo,” he said, standing up. “I apologize for wasting your time.”

“No, no… I found it quite enlightening. I look forward to seeing you again.”

It wasn’t a question, Akira found himself thinking He managed to get back into the front of the store without much trouble despite the odd urge to wander into different rooms he passed. He met fewer animals this time, although he noticed that all of the ones he encountered were lovely and well-cared for. At the door, he looked back once and saw a flicker of a golden tail and a glimpse of familiar green eyes before the creature darted into the corridor.

Akira hesitated, tempted to chase after it—what was that thing?—and remembered Count D’s statement. I look forward to seeing you again.

He almost felt light-headed when he was outside. It was probably from all the incense used in the shop, Akira told himself. The confining atmosphere of the pet shop could have also been a contributing factor. Checking his watch again, Akira flipped open his cell phone and made his way to the train station.

“Hello, Kurata-san? I need a small favor. I was wondering if you could tell me your favorite sweets shop in Yokohama…”

“Ah, Touya-san. You finally started to appreciate the finer things in life. Let me think, Yokohama—I was just there, you know—there’s this one bakery that sells delicious crossiants on…”

-fin--

Notes: Many, many thanks goes out to Luce Red who looked over my fic and corrected many of my mistakes and for inspiring me with her own HnG x PSoH fic. Also thanks to Sagekaley, Aishuu, and Kisha for putting up with me and my lack-of-PSoH knowledge.

This is a bit different from my usual writing style. My main concern was trying to keep the fic realistic and yet not have it drag... I now remember why I usually write flash fics.

Feedback,comments, and constructive criticism very much appreciated.