[iccaca]
SAI/GO ~END
by lucathia_rykatu
sai/sho ~ Beginning
He supposed that it all began with a dark, dusty attic and a goban stained with blood, not unlike an adventure straight out of a fantasy book where the protagonist found some ancient relic and got pulled into an unbelievable world against his choice. At least, that was when his story began. But for who he was dedicating the book to, he supposed that it had started earlier, perhaps when the first boy, a prodigy in go, though weak in health, had discovered the very same goban some hundred of years ago and had let the spirit from the goban play go to his heart's desire, leaving behind the name of a prodigy, a name that would become a legend for the future. But that was when the first boy's story started, and not when the spirit's story started.
No, for the spirit's story, it started much, much earlier, in an age where water was fetched from cold wells for the baths, where samurai roamed the grand palaces, courtiers rode in carriages drawn by horses, and go players battled for the most honored position of advisor to the Emperor.
The spirit's story began then, and it continued even when he was deceived by his treacherous opponent and tried to end his life by ways of drowning. His human life may have ended then, but his spirit lived on with a love for the game.
So it was there that he decided to start his recounting of Sai's story.
The pen, such an unfamiliar item as opposed to the comfort of those smooth go stones, moved across the page, the words coming hesitantly but surely.
Once there was a man named Fujiwara no Sai who lived in the Heian age. His name has not been recorded in history books though it should be, for he is the one closest to the Divine move, having played countless games throughout his one-thousand year existence...
sai/kin ~ Recently
When Sai appeared on the internet, go players from all over the world had flocked to his brilliance, eagerly and greedily devouring his every move, like gold diggers flocking to sparkling gold. For Sai was legendary, and on the net, Sai existed as an entity entirely of his own, his skill unfiltered through another.
He promised his rival "someday" and he knew that whenever they saw each other, those piercing eyes would question him "when?" He had never meant to keep it a secret for so long, but he knew that such an unlikely story of spirits and blood-stained go boards was hard to believe.
When Sai disappeared, the lost hit him hard, the shining brilliance suddenly gone by his side, the brilliance that he had selfishly kept to himself. Sai was gone, and it wasn't until then that he finally realized how much he wanted to share. He wished he could turn back time, to the time when he found himself in that dark, dusty attic, cowering before the blazing spirit rising out of the blood-stained goban. But as time could not be turned back and such things could not be so easily explained with a few spoken words, he settled for the next best thing.
He wrote.
And wrote. And wrote.
He changed the names but kept their resemblances, the girl who had accompanied him to the attic merely becoming "the Girl" and the boy he had met at the go salon merely becoming "the Rival," and the rival's father "the Meijin," and so forth. The only one with a name was Fujiwara no Sai. The story grew out of his control, but he couldn't bring himself to write an end, for there was no end. He included countless kifu of those private games that no one else knew about, and even of the few games that he had let Sai play through his hand. The first and second game that Sai played through his hand he knew his rival would recognize immediately.
It was not a book he wished to publish, heavens no, he was a go player, not a writer, but still, he dedicated it to Sai. When his pen finally came to rest at the present, he let the ink dry before he bound the papers with plenty of white pages in the back, and labeled the front "sai/go."
sai/go ~ End
He only showed the book to one person.
His rival held the book in his hand, one eyebrow raised, until he flipped open the book and the raised eyebrow became not one of inquiry but rather one of surprise. Once he began, he didn't stop until the clock struck twelve and all the buses retired for the night. It wasn't until he reached the last written page that he set the unfinished book down.
He could tell that his rival had recognized many characters involved within the story, himself included. None of those mattered to him, however, none more than who the story had all been about.
Sai.
In his go, Sai lived on.
He set the goban before them and they bowed to each other, the game forever binding them together in a struggle towards playing the Divine move that Sai had been so close to achieving. The struggle would continue through them and then through the next generation, and on and on and on, the pages waiting to be filled.
In his memory, Sai was forever.
And now, two shared the secret.
-sho (with different kanji) can also mean "book", and kin can also mean "gold."
by lucathia_rykatu
sai/sho ~ Beginning
He supposed that it all began with a dark, dusty attic and a goban stained with blood, not unlike an adventure straight out of a fantasy book where the protagonist found some ancient relic and got pulled into an unbelievable world against his choice. At least, that was when his story began. But for who he was dedicating the book to, he supposed that it had started earlier, perhaps when the first boy, a prodigy in go, though weak in health, had discovered the very same goban some hundred of years ago and had let the spirit from the goban play go to his heart's desire, leaving behind the name of a prodigy, a name that would become a legend for the future. But that was when the first boy's story started, and not when the spirit's story started.
No, for the spirit's story, it started much, much earlier, in an age where water was fetched from cold wells for the baths, where samurai roamed the grand palaces, courtiers rode in carriages drawn by horses, and go players battled for the most honored position of advisor to the Emperor.
The spirit's story began then, and it continued even when he was deceived by his treacherous opponent and tried to end his life by ways of drowning. His human life may have ended then, but his spirit lived on with a love for the game.
So it was there that he decided to start his recounting of Sai's story.
The pen, such an unfamiliar item as opposed to the comfort of those smooth go stones, moved across the page, the words coming hesitantly but surely.
Once there was a man named Fujiwara no Sai who lived in the Heian age. His name has not been recorded in history books though it should be, for he is the one closest to the Divine move, having played countless games throughout his one-thousand year existence...
sai/kin ~ Recently
When Sai appeared on the internet, go players from all over the world had flocked to his brilliance, eagerly and greedily devouring his every move, like gold diggers flocking to sparkling gold. For Sai was legendary, and on the net, Sai existed as an entity entirely of his own, his skill unfiltered through another.
He promised his rival "someday" and he knew that whenever they saw each other, those piercing eyes would question him "when?" He had never meant to keep it a secret for so long, but he knew that such an unlikely story of spirits and blood-stained go boards was hard to believe.
When Sai disappeared, the lost hit him hard, the shining brilliance suddenly gone by his side, the brilliance that he had selfishly kept to himself. Sai was gone, and it wasn't until then that he finally realized how much he wanted to share. He wished he could turn back time, to the time when he found himself in that dark, dusty attic, cowering before the blazing spirit rising out of the blood-stained goban. But as time could not be turned back and such things could not be so easily explained with a few spoken words, he settled for the next best thing.
He wrote.
And wrote. And wrote.
He changed the names but kept their resemblances, the girl who had accompanied him to the attic merely becoming "the Girl" and the boy he had met at the go salon merely becoming "the Rival," and the rival's father "the Meijin," and so forth. The only one with a name was Fujiwara no Sai. The story grew out of his control, but he couldn't bring himself to write an end, for there was no end. He included countless kifu of those private games that no one else knew about, and even of the few games that he had let Sai play through his hand. The first and second game that Sai played through his hand he knew his rival would recognize immediately.
It was not a book he wished to publish, heavens no, he was a go player, not a writer, but still, he dedicated it to Sai. When his pen finally came to rest at the present, he let the ink dry before he bound the papers with plenty of white pages in the back, and labeled the front "sai/go."
sai/go ~ End
He only showed the book to one person.
His rival held the book in his hand, one eyebrow raised, until he flipped open the book and the raised eyebrow became not one of inquiry but rather one of surprise. Once he began, he didn't stop until the clock struck twelve and all the buses retired for the night. It wasn't until he reached the last written page that he set the unfinished book down.
He could tell that his rival had recognized many characters involved within the story, himself included. None of those mattered to him, however, none more than who the story had all been about.
Sai.
In his go, Sai lived on.
He set the goban before them and they bowed to each other, the game forever binding them together in a struggle towards playing the Divine move that Sai had been so close to achieving. The struggle would continue through them and then through the next generation, and on and on and on, the pages waiting to be filled.
In his memory, Sai was forever.
And now, two shared the secret.
-sho (with different kanji) can also mean "book", and kin can also mean "gold."