[Ryusei]
by tarigwaemir
Legacy
The call comes at four o'clock in the morning. His phone rings six, seven, eight times and nearly goes to the answering machine before he lifts himself on one elbow to pick it up. Eyes still closed, he mumbles, "Who is it?"
"Waya-kun. Please come. The doctors say he has less than an hour left."
He sits up, abruptly awake. "Yes, I'll be there right away."
---
Morishita-sensei, even while lying still, too still, in a hospital bed, is a mountain of a man, shuddering with each shallow breath. The white fluorescent lighting only accentuates the wrinkles of his face; Waya tries not to notice how old Sensei has become.
He holds out a bag of tangerines to Morishita-san, who accepts it silently. Pale and tired, she sinks back into her seat by the bed and clasps her husband's hand. "Dear, Waya-kun is here. Remember, you asked for him."
Sensei does not open his eyes but he rumbles in his deep, gravelly voice, "Waya. Where are you, you rascal? Come here, so this old man doesn't have to shout."
Morishita-san tactfully murmurs, "I'll go get some coffee," and leaves them alone.
Waya approaches the bed obediently. His footsteps sound loud against the low buzz of the room. Sensei does not speak. Waya wonders whether he's fallen asleep again.
"Waya."
"Yes, Sensei!"
"You're a good student, you know that? A good student and a good go player. Out of all my students, you resemble me the most."
Waya does not know what to say. "Sensei--"
"I used to think that teaching was a waste of time. I wanted to win tournaments, not train students. Serves me right that none of my children ever wanted to learn how to play." Morishita-sensei chuckles ruefully. "Later on, I realized I learned more from yelling at you scoundrels than I did from studying kifu all day. Hah! Some people would think I'm a failure. I used to think so too. Here I am, 9th-dan, dying without a title to my name. What a legacy!"
"Don't say that, Sensei. Your go will be remembered."
"Yes, that's true. And you'll be the one to remember it. If nothing else, you will remember my go. I'm proud of that. I won't die ashamed of the games I have played."
Waya bows his head.
"When I see you, I see my younger self," repeats Morishita-sensei. "All that ambition and envy and drive to succeed. You will be a better man than me, Waya. A better go player too."
"But--"
"Don't try to flatter me. I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't aim for anything less. Surpass me, Waya. That's what I wanted to say to you. I don't mean go and win a title, though I want you to do that too. Go is not just about winning games and beating your opponents. Remember to...remember to teach someone too."
"Yes, Sensei."
"Good man." Sensei turns his head away, his voice fading. "I wanted to tell you that. While I still could."
Waya blinked back tears. "Thank you, Sensei."
---
He passes away at noon. Waya does not know what to do, so he stands there awkwardly, listening to Morishita-san and Shigeko wailing as they wheeled away the body. Shirakawa-san speaks quietly with the doctors while Saeki-san stares out the window. Even Shindou, who arrived late, called away from an important tournament game, seems uncharacteristically subdued. The space that Sensei left in the room seems to gape open like a hole, like a vacuum; he edges away, afraid of getting sucked into it.
"Here." Saeki thrusts a handkerchief under his nose. "Wipe your face."
"Thanks," he says, his voice sounding hoarse and hollow.
The rest of the week passes in a blur. He spends most of the days in his best black suit, greeting and escorting guests at the funeral. Most of the professional go world arrives to pay their respects. He is startled and gratified to see the Touya family arrive. "Thank you for coming," he says, bowing to Touya-sensei and his son. "Please come this way."
"We're very sorry for your loss," Touya Akira murmurs, before entering the home.
Waya's mother calls him at the end of the day, while he is helping to clear away the chairs and tables. "How are you doing? It must have been a tiring day."
"I'm fine."
"Remember to give my condolences to Morishita-san before you leave."
"Yes, Mother."
It is nearly ten in the evening when he leaves. Morishita-san thanks him tearfully as he says goodbye. "Please visit, Waya-kun. You are always welcome here, even without...even without my--"
"I understand, Morishita-san. I'll come by as often as I can."
---
Mostly, he feels numb.
He goes through the motions of his daily routine--games at the Institute, tutoring sessions, study group, sleep. He sleeps less and has baggy eyes.
Shindou asks, "Are you okay, Waya?"
"Yes, don't worry about me." He tells himself to focus on his go. Sensei...Sensei would not want him to slack off now.
---
He's clearing away the stones after a game with Isumi-san in a go salon when it happens.
"Uh, Sensei? Waya-sensei?"
"Yes?" He doesn't turn.
"Could you explain that move in the endgame? When you responded to black's attack in the center by attaching here?"
Isumi-san laughs, "Yes, explain that hand, Waya. It was a very skillfully laid trap."
He starts to replay the game for the audience, explaining his thinking as he goes. The go salon customers crowd around even more and interrupt him to ask for clarification.
In the middle of arguing with Isumi over why he chose to sacrifice a group of stones, Waya finds himself smiling. The expression feels foreign on his face.
The customers thank him and request several teaching games. It's another three hours before Isumi-san and Waya are finished.
"You're a good teacher, Waya," Isumi-san remarks as they leave the salon. "Not all go professionals are."
He smiles again--this time, it feels more comfortable--and says, "Well, I want to get even better. I've a promise to keep."
Legacy
The call comes at four o'clock in the morning. His phone rings six, seven, eight times and nearly goes to the answering machine before he lifts himself on one elbow to pick it up. Eyes still closed, he mumbles, "Who is it?"
"Waya-kun. Please come. The doctors say he has less than an hour left."
He sits up, abruptly awake. "Yes, I'll be there right away."
---
Morishita-sensei, even while lying still, too still, in a hospital bed, is a mountain of a man, shuddering with each shallow breath. The white fluorescent lighting only accentuates the wrinkles of his face; Waya tries not to notice how old Sensei has become.
He holds out a bag of tangerines to Morishita-san, who accepts it silently. Pale and tired, she sinks back into her seat by the bed and clasps her husband's hand. "Dear, Waya-kun is here. Remember, you asked for him."
Sensei does not open his eyes but he rumbles in his deep, gravelly voice, "Waya. Where are you, you rascal? Come here, so this old man doesn't have to shout."
Morishita-san tactfully murmurs, "I'll go get some coffee," and leaves them alone.
Waya approaches the bed obediently. His footsteps sound loud against the low buzz of the room. Sensei does not speak. Waya wonders whether he's fallen asleep again.
"Waya."
"Yes, Sensei!"
"You're a good student, you know that? A good student and a good go player. Out of all my students, you resemble me the most."
Waya does not know what to say. "Sensei--"
"I used to think that teaching was a waste of time. I wanted to win tournaments, not train students. Serves me right that none of my children ever wanted to learn how to play." Morishita-sensei chuckles ruefully. "Later on, I realized I learned more from yelling at you scoundrels than I did from studying kifu all day. Hah! Some people would think I'm a failure. I used to think so too. Here I am, 9th-dan, dying without a title to my name. What a legacy!"
"Don't say that, Sensei. Your go will be remembered."
"Yes, that's true. And you'll be the one to remember it. If nothing else, you will remember my go. I'm proud of that. I won't die ashamed of the games I have played."
Waya bows his head.
"When I see you, I see my younger self," repeats Morishita-sensei. "All that ambition and envy and drive to succeed. You will be a better man than me, Waya. A better go player too."
"But--"
"Don't try to flatter me. I'd be disappointed in you if you didn't aim for anything less. Surpass me, Waya. That's what I wanted to say to you. I don't mean go and win a title, though I want you to do that too. Go is not just about winning games and beating your opponents. Remember to...remember to teach someone too."
"Yes, Sensei."
"Good man." Sensei turns his head away, his voice fading. "I wanted to tell you that. While I still could."
Waya blinked back tears. "Thank you, Sensei."
---
He passes away at noon. Waya does not know what to do, so he stands there awkwardly, listening to Morishita-san and Shigeko wailing as they wheeled away the body. Shirakawa-san speaks quietly with the doctors while Saeki-san stares out the window. Even Shindou, who arrived late, called away from an important tournament game, seems uncharacteristically subdued. The space that Sensei left in the room seems to gape open like a hole, like a vacuum; he edges away, afraid of getting sucked into it.
"Here." Saeki thrusts a handkerchief under his nose. "Wipe your face."
"Thanks," he says, his voice sounding hoarse and hollow.
The rest of the week passes in a blur. He spends most of the days in his best black suit, greeting and escorting guests at the funeral. Most of the professional go world arrives to pay their respects. He is startled and gratified to see the Touya family arrive. "Thank you for coming," he says, bowing to Touya-sensei and his son. "Please come this way."
"We're very sorry for your loss," Touya Akira murmurs, before entering the home.
Waya's mother calls him at the end of the day, while he is helping to clear away the chairs and tables. "How are you doing? It must have been a tiring day."
"I'm fine."
"Remember to give my condolences to Morishita-san before you leave."
"Yes, Mother."
It is nearly ten in the evening when he leaves. Morishita-san thanks him tearfully as he says goodbye. "Please visit, Waya-kun. You are always welcome here, even without...even without my--"
"I understand, Morishita-san. I'll come by as often as I can."
---
Mostly, he feels numb.
He goes through the motions of his daily routine--games at the Institute, tutoring sessions, study group, sleep. He sleeps less and has baggy eyes.
Shindou asks, "Are you okay, Waya?"
"Yes, don't worry about me." He tells himself to focus on his go. Sensei...Sensei would not want him to slack off now.
---
He's clearing away the stones after a game with Isumi-san in a go salon when it happens.
"Uh, Sensei? Waya-sensei?"
"Yes?" He doesn't turn.
"Could you explain that move in the endgame? When you responded to black's attack in the center by attaching here?"
Isumi-san laughs, "Yes, explain that hand, Waya. It was a very skillfully laid trap."
He starts to replay the game for the audience, explaining his thinking as he goes. The go salon customers crowd around even more and interrupt him to ask for clarification.
In the middle of arguing with Isumi over why he chose to sacrifice a group of stones, Waya finds himself smiling. The expression feels foreign on his face.
The customers thank him and request several teaching games. It's another three hours before Isumi-san and Waya are finished.
"You're a good teacher, Waya," Isumi-san remarks as they leave the salon. "Not all go professionals are."
He smiles again--this time, it feels more comfortable--and says, "Well, I want to get even better. I've a promise to keep."