[nakagawa]
OPERATION FILM NASE
by catwho
When Nase passes the pro exam, how does she deal with the ensuing celebrity?
~~~
A narrator's voice came over the television in the darkened living room. Images of a go tournament that had just completed flashed on the screen.
"Congratulations to the winner of this year's Young Woman's Go Tournament, Asumi Nase!" The camera shifted to a beaming girl with bright eyes and an infectious smile. She gave a victory pose and winked saucily for the camera. "And the winner is very lovely indeed. She just passed the pro exam last month. Can you give us a few words for your admirers, Asumi-san?"
"Keep on keepin' on," she said merrily. "Those of us who play go, do so for the love of the game. If I didn't love what I was doing, then there would be no point? I'm just so happy I was able to play such an exciting game today."
A smattering of applause followed as the camera shifted back to the beautiful reporter.
"Thank you for the gift of your game as well, Asumi-san. And over on the men's side, the aftermath of the Hokuto cup is still being felt as all three contestants are undefeated in their normal games since returning. They are all rising steady in the preliminaries for this year's titles.
Please stay tuned as Tanaka-sensei gives us more details!"
The TV blathered on, largely ignored. The lone occupant of the living room was unable to remove the image of the beautiful girl from his mind. Asumi Nase.
She wasn't as pretty as Amatsuka Megumi. But she was full of the same vitality. She had the same sparkle in her eyes, that showed that she enjoyed life and intended to live it to the fullest.
The reflection of the television blocked Yasuda's eyes from view.
He had to get some pictures of her.
~~~
Operation Film Nase
~~~
The reduction of the universe to a single being, the expansion of a single being to even God, this is love. ~ Victor Hugo
~~~
"That was an amazing game," Nase said dreamily as she slurped her milkshake. "It makes me so happy to play go, to be able to understand a game of that level . . . although I can't really understand it."
Hikaru shook his head, sighing as he took in the sights of the corner cafe where the group had settled for a Sunday lunch. "I keep replaying it in my head, over and over again, and I can't find any single point where I could have made a difference. That means he really did outplay me."
Akira snorted. "It means you're still not finished growing as a go player."
"Maybe someday we'll all look back on that game and go, 'Oh.'" Waya polished off another french fry. "But there were so many levels to it . . . I think we really did underestimate Kon Yongha. I don't think even Sai could have beaten him."
"He could have," Hikaru and Akira said at the same time. Then they both glowered at each other. There were still several volumes unspoken between the two and their respective relationships with Sai.
"Well, your game yesterday was amazing too Nase," Waya offered generously. "The way you came from behind at mid-game was spectacular."
"Not really." Nase shrugged. "I knew her weakest point was mid-game, so I underplayed a few moves at the start to make her overconfident. I suppose you can say I out psyched her." She drained another slurp from her milkshake, oblivious to the click of a camera from the bushes behind her.
"Aha! I knew you'd never make that mistake attaching to that star so early unless it was intentional." Hikaru gloated a bit. "I told Akira, she did that on purpose. She just had to. Didn't I say that Isumi?"
"You did," the older, quiet one said. "But you should be careful. As Sakata Eio said, go is not about winning through brilliant moves, it is about losing through bad moves. Also, Nase-san, you might want to be aware that there is someone with a camera behind you."
A sudden violent rustling in the bushes was ignored as Nase turned around to see a reporter, hoping for an exclusive interview with the Young Woman's Go Champion of Japan.
"Oh!" Nase said, startled.
"Asumi-sensei, would you have a few minutes? And you too, Shindou-sensei, Akira-sensei."
Waya and Isumi, outshone by the current superstars of Japan, smirked to themselves. Hikaru and Akira hadn't had a moment's rest from the press since the Hokuto Cup a few months ago, and it seemed that Nase was about to undergo the same treatment.
"Why sure, I guess," Nase said, then put on her brightest smile.
Click!
~~~
Tasuke Yasuda clutched the printouts from the digital camera. So precious! She was even more graceful and stunning that Amatsuka-san in some ways, especially when she smiled. Amatsuka-san very rarely smiled, and it was so guarded when she did. And her friend Hanakain Miki smiled rarely too, although her smile was like the moon coming from behind the clouds at night. Amatsuka's smile was the sun breaking through the horizon at sunset.
But Nase's smile, that smile was the brilliance of the sun at full day. The sparkles in her eyes were the rays of God. The joy of life came through so strongly, her picture seemed alive within its paper.
The problem with Yasuda's hobby, though, was that one set of pictures was never enough. This one of her with the straw peeking so innocently into her mouth, was precious, but only for a few fleeting moments. He had wanted to pick up the straw when she was done, but those stupid reporters had startled him off before he had a chance.
The life of a hentai wasn't easy. There was always the fear of getting caught -- but that was part of the thrill as well. But the big challenge was the lust for more. One set of pictures wasn't enough. He'd already started an album of her newspaper clippings. He had set aside a spot on one page if he was ever able to obtain a strand of her hair. He had found copies of every one of her recorded matches on the Internet, and they had been sorted in chronological order and burned to DVD.
Probably the biggest tragedy he faced, however, was that she was a working professional and did not go to school. Tomorrow she would be at the Go
Institute, playing one of her regularly scheduled matches, or tutoring, or at a study group.
What to do . . . what to do . . .
Well, was he a hentai, or was he a hentai? School be damned. Ever since Amatsuka-sensei had decided to remain a girl and be with Souga Genzo, he'd begun to feel a bit like a third wheel anyway. Fujiki and Kobayashi had their own blooming relationships as well. It was unfair, really.
He was the only one that had been left behind.
Oh well. He had more pictures of each of their girlfriends that they all had combined.
~~~
Nase's pre-game ritual was this: She would have a cup of tea in underneath a park bench outside the Go Institute. Ever since she'd beaten the pro exam and advanced to the lowest -Dan in the woman's division, she had given herself this moment of calm whenever the weather permitted. If it rained she went inside, but then she couldn't slip on the headphones.
Focus, focus. She closed her eyes, and listened to the instrumental music that came through the MP3 player. Ah, from the X soundtrack, Sadame. Destiny. She mentally riffled through the games she had studied by today's opponent. A strong mid-game, unlike the young 2-dan she had beaten last Saturday. Much older, much more experienced. There would be no out-psyching this one; she was much more likely to be intimidated on the board if
she allowed it. But she would not. That was the hardest lesson to learn in go; if you let your opponent's will destroy you, you lost before you ever set down a stone.While she enjoyed the aroma of the macha in her travel mug, she had the oddest sensation she was being watched. But there was no one around. The entrance was deserted, and even traffic was calm for a mid-Monday morning.
It never occurred to her to look up.
Yasuda had perched himself on one of the tree branches above, and had a digital camcorder filming every precious second of her drinking her tea.
She would bring the mug to her lips, close her eyes, and inhale. Her delicate nostrils would puff out with the action. A gentle breeze played
with her hair, causing the ends to ripple in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. He was well disguised; camouflage combined with a
tree in full leaf meant that he was invisible, even his shadow. She would never know he was there.
And that was part of the thrill. She was his to view, and thanks to the video, would be his to view over and over and over again, and she would never be the wiser.
~~~
"Nase-chan? Naaaaase-chan?" Her mother's insistent voice filtered up the stairwell. "Get up, breakfast is served!"
Ugh, Nase thought. Maybe Waya had the right idea. Maybe I should move out as soon as I can. Ugggh.
She wasn't really a morning person. Who was? Maybe someplace, on some planet, there was a person who was instantly awake at seven in the morning, but surely no human being was alert within that first minute of waking.
She shouldn't have stayed out so late. But after Waya's wonderful defeat of the 8-dan in the Ouza preliminaries, they had all decided to go out
for a late night after party. Go professionals apparently weren't subject to Japan's drinking laws when they were in the company of the elders.
So this was what a hangover felt like.
"Come and get your breakfast before it gets cold!" her mother called again.
"Yes ma'am," she said, struggling to get out of the sweatshirt she had slept in.
~~
Outside her window, Yasuda fought off a nosebleed. His own private strip show! Oh, he would never give up the life of a hentai for anything!
"Take it all off, Nase-chan," he murmured.
~~~
Several months went on like this, as Yasuda built a secret shrine to her, and Nase remained oblivious to the stalker that was spying on her every minute he could.
But then, one day, the secret photographer . . . . was photographed.
It happened at another one of their lunch dates, as the old gang gathered at Waya's favorite ramen stand with some of the older pros. The group took up a large table, and none of them questioned the odd placement of one of the wall tiles, nor saw the tip of the digital camera that peeked through it.
This was a spot Yasuda had staked out before. They had eaten there fairly often, and they always sat at the same large round booth. It was a
simple matter of slicing off a wedge of one of the wooden panels to get a camera lens in there.
"Even though you lost today Touya, it was a great game," Hikaru said. "And look, here come the sharks, after smelling the blood in the water."
Sure enough, a few reporters had followed the losers. Even losing, Akira Touya, the Meijin's son, sold papers well.
Click! Click click!
"Touya-sensei, can we get a few words about . . ."
"Shindou-sensei, how do you think that . . ."
The questions were all the usual ones, and they answered the questions politely but curtly. Nase felt special, as she was included in the little hubbub for once.
~~~
"Nase-san, I think you better look at this," one of the other women pros in her Tuesday study group said, holding out the previous week's edition
of Weekly Go.
"Hmmm? What's going on?"
"These pictures of you and Shindou-san and Touya-san . . . they're so cute together -- look at the bushes behind you."
Nase looked hard, and then held up the paper and squinted at it.
"It looks like . . . sneakers?"
"Yes," the other girl said grimly. "And a camera there." She pointed to a shiny spot in the bushes. "I think you have attracted an overzealous fan."
One of Nase's eyebrows shot up. "You mean a stalker?"
"Yeah." The other girl took back her paper, and her eyes were filled with a few traces of pity. "You have a stalker, Nase."
That day, after the study session was over, Nase's shoes were missing.
~~~
So, she had a stalker. Nase looked out at the moonlight spilling in from her window, pondering. What kind of person would bother hiding behind her at lunch and stealing her shoes? She'd had to walk home in her indoor shoes, which mean she had to buy a new pair of each. How annoying.
She thought about fame. It was not something that she had asked for. All she had wanted to do was pass the pro exam. Then the Young Woman's Tournament had come up, and she'd just barely become a pro in time to qualify for the prelims. She'd had some tough games, but she had studied her opponents well and attacked them at their weak spots. And she'd had the support of her friends. Waya and Isumi, Shindou and Akira . . . they were all there too.
But fame had found her, like it or not, and she was already attracting the wrong sort of fan, it seemed.
A rustling in the tree outside made her blood run cold.
Could it be . . . that he was out there? Those sneakers and that camera, waiting for her?
But Nase was no coward.
"Yaa-hooo," she called out to the tree. "Mr. Stalker out there, why can't you meet me face to face? Why can't you ask me out on a date like a normal guy? That's what I'd like. Just talk to me!"
Either she'd just made the stupidest move of her life, or she'd scared him off for good. Either way, she felt a bit better.
Attack them in their weak spots for victory!
~~~
"And then she asked me out," Yasuda said glumly over his sandwich at the lunch table. "It was so creepy I couldn't handle it. My love for Nase is over." He looked as though he was about to cry.
The rest of the Megumi Protection Society stared at him, incredulously. The entire tale was simply unbelievable.
"So the girl you were stalking . . ." Amatsuka Megumi began, her eyes dull.
" . . . saw you in the tree . . ." Genzo continued.
" . . . And asked you out on a date?" Fujioka Ichiro finished up.
Yasuda nodded miserably. "What do you say to that? The life of a hentai is finding the thrill in the act of spying, the connection in inanimate objects, the beauty captured forever in a picture . . . I don't even want her shoes any more. I'm just too weirded out by the whole thing."
They heard a tinkly laugh from the end of the table. "So instead of the stalker creeping out the object of his affections, the object did the creeping out instead!" Hanakain Miki seemed genuinely amused. "All I can say is, serves you right! And you'd better take her up on that date. You'll never get another shot at a girl like her." She winked.
"Yeah, yeah." Yasuda's glasses shined over, but then he suddenly took them off, revealing the beautiful eyes he kept hidden behind them. "Maybe I should try that after all."
by catwho
When Nase passes the pro exam, how does she deal with the ensuing celebrity?
~~~
A narrator's voice came over the television in the darkened living room. Images of a go tournament that had just completed flashed on the screen.
"Congratulations to the winner of this year's Young Woman's Go Tournament, Asumi Nase!" The camera shifted to a beaming girl with bright eyes and an infectious smile. She gave a victory pose and winked saucily for the camera. "And the winner is very lovely indeed. She just passed the pro exam last month. Can you give us a few words for your admirers, Asumi-san?"
"Keep on keepin' on," she said merrily. "Those of us who play go, do so for the love of the game. If I didn't love what I was doing, then there would be no point? I'm just so happy I was able to play such an exciting game today."
A smattering of applause followed as the camera shifted back to the beautiful reporter.
"Thank you for the gift of your game as well, Asumi-san. And over on the men's side, the aftermath of the Hokuto cup is still being felt as all three contestants are undefeated in their normal games since returning. They are all rising steady in the preliminaries for this year's titles.
Please stay tuned as Tanaka-sensei gives us more details!"
The TV blathered on, largely ignored. The lone occupant of the living room was unable to remove the image of the beautiful girl from his mind. Asumi Nase.
She wasn't as pretty as Amatsuka Megumi. But she was full of the same vitality. She had the same sparkle in her eyes, that showed that she enjoyed life and intended to live it to the fullest.
The reflection of the television blocked Yasuda's eyes from view.
He had to get some pictures of her.
~~~
Operation Film Nase
~~~
The reduction of the universe to a single being, the expansion of a single being to even God, this is love. ~ Victor Hugo
~~~
"That was an amazing game," Nase said dreamily as she slurped her milkshake. "It makes me so happy to play go, to be able to understand a game of that level . . . although I can't really understand it."
Hikaru shook his head, sighing as he took in the sights of the corner cafe where the group had settled for a Sunday lunch. "I keep replaying it in my head, over and over again, and I can't find any single point where I could have made a difference. That means he really did outplay me."
Akira snorted. "It means you're still not finished growing as a go player."
"Maybe someday we'll all look back on that game and go, 'Oh.'" Waya polished off another french fry. "But there were so many levels to it . . . I think we really did underestimate Kon Yongha. I don't think even Sai could have beaten him."
"He could have," Hikaru and Akira said at the same time. Then they both glowered at each other. There were still several volumes unspoken between the two and their respective relationships with Sai.
"Well, your game yesterday was amazing too Nase," Waya offered generously. "The way you came from behind at mid-game was spectacular."
"Not really." Nase shrugged. "I knew her weakest point was mid-game, so I underplayed a few moves at the start to make her overconfident. I suppose you can say I out psyched her." She drained another slurp from her milkshake, oblivious to the click of a camera from the bushes behind her.
"Aha! I knew you'd never make that mistake attaching to that star so early unless it was intentional." Hikaru gloated a bit. "I told Akira, she did that on purpose. She just had to. Didn't I say that Isumi?"
"You did," the older, quiet one said. "But you should be careful. As Sakata Eio said, go is not about winning through brilliant moves, it is about losing through bad moves. Also, Nase-san, you might want to be aware that there is someone with a camera behind you."
A sudden violent rustling in the bushes was ignored as Nase turned around to see a reporter, hoping for an exclusive interview with the Young Woman's Go Champion of Japan.
"Oh!" Nase said, startled.
"Asumi-sensei, would you have a few minutes? And you too, Shindou-sensei, Akira-sensei."
Waya and Isumi, outshone by the current superstars of Japan, smirked to themselves. Hikaru and Akira hadn't had a moment's rest from the press since the Hokuto Cup a few months ago, and it seemed that Nase was about to undergo the same treatment.
"Why sure, I guess," Nase said, then put on her brightest smile.
Click!
~~~
Tasuke Yasuda clutched the printouts from the digital camera. So precious! She was even more graceful and stunning that Amatsuka-san in some ways, especially when she smiled. Amatsuka-san very rarely smiled, and it was so guarded when she did. And her friend Hanakain Miki smiled rarely too, although her smile was like the moon coming from behind the clouds at night. Amatsuka's smile was the sun breaking through the horizon at sunset.
But Nase's smile, that smile was the brilliance of the sun at full day. The sparkles in her eyes were the rays of God. The joy of life came through so strongly, her picture seemed alive within its paper.
The problem with Yasuda's hobby, though, was that one set of pictures was never enough. This one of her with the straw peeking so innocently into her mouth, was precious, but only for a few fleeting moments. He had wanted to pick up the straw when she was done, but those stupid reporters had startled him off before he had a chance.
The life of a hentai wasn't easy. There was always the fear of getting caught -- but that was part of the thrill as well. But the big challenge was the lust for more. One set of pictures wasn't enough. He'd already started an album of her newspaper clippings. He had set aside a spot on one page if he was ever able to obtain a strand of her hair. He had found copies of every one of her recorded matches on the Internet, and they had been sorted in chronological order and burned to DVD.
Probably the biggest tragedy he faced, however, was that she was a working professional and did not go to school. Tomorrow she would be at the Go
Institute, playing one of her regularly scheduled matches, or tutoring, or at a study group.
What to do . . . what to do . . .
Well, was he a hentai, or was he a hentai? School be damned. Ever since Amatsuka-sensei had decided to remain a girl and be with Souga Genzo, he'd begun to feel a bit like a third wheel anyway. Fujiki and Kobayashi had their own blooming relationships as well. It was unfair, really.
He was the only one that had been left behind.
Oh well. He had more pictures of each of their girlfriends that they all had combined.
~~~
Nase's pre-game ritual was this: She would have a cup of tea in underneath a park bench outside the Go Institute. Ever since she'd beaten the pro exam and advanced to the lowest -Dan in the woman's division, she had given herself this moment of calm whenever the weather permitted. If it rained she went inside, but then she couldn't slip on the headphones.
Focus, focus. She closed her eyes, and listened to the instrumental music that came through the MP3 player. Ah, from the X soundtrack, Sadame. Destiny. She mentally riffled through the games she had studied by today's opponent. A strong mid-game, unlike the young 2-dan she had beaten last Saturday. Much older, much more experienced. There would be no out-psyching this one; she was much more likely to be intimidated on the board if
she allowed it. But she would not. That was the hardest lesson to learn in go; if you let your opponent's will destroy you, you lost before you ever set down a stone.While she enjoyed the aroma of the macha in her travel mug, she had the oddest sensation she was being watched. But there was no one around. The entrance was deserted, and even traffic was calm for a mid-Monday morning.
It never occurred to her to look up.
Yasuda had perched himself on one of the tree branches above, and had a digital camcorder filming every precious second of her drinking her tea.
She would bring the mug to her lips, close her eyes, and inhale. Her delicate nostrils would puff out with the action. A gentle breeze played
with her hair, causing the ends to ripple in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. He was well disguised; camouflage combined with a
tree in full leaf meant that he was invisible, even his shadow. She would never know he was there.
And that was part of the thrill. She was his to view, and thanks to the video, would be his to view over and over and over again, and she would never be the wiser.
~~~
"Nase-chan? Naaaaase-chan?" Her mother's insistent voice filtered up the stairwell. "Get up, breakfast is served!"
Ugh, Nase thought. Maybe Waya had the right idea. Maybe I should move out as soon as I can. Ugggh.
She wasn't really a morning person. Who was? Maybe someplace, on some planet, there was a person who was instantly awake at seven in the morning, but surely no human being was alert within that first minute of waking.
She shouldn't have stayed out so late. But after Waya's wonderful defeat of the 8-dan in the Ouza preliminaries, they had all decided to go out
for a late night after party. Go professionals apparently weren't subject to Japan's drinking laws when they were in the company of the elders.
So this was what a hangover felt like.
"Come and get your breakfast before it gets cold!" her mother called again.
"Yes ma'am," she said, struggling to get out of the sweatshirt she had slept in.
~~
Outside her window, Yasuda fought off a nosebleed. His own private strip show! Oh, he would never give up the life of a hentai for anything!
"Take it all off, Nase-chan," he murmured.
~~~
Several months went on like this, as Yasuda built a secret shrine to her, and Nase remained oblivious to the stalker that was spying on her every minute he could.
But then, one day, the secret photographer . . . . was photographed.
It happened at another one of their lunch dates, as the old gang gathered at Waya's favorite ramen stand with some of the older pros. The group took up a large table, and none of them questioned the odd placement of one of the wall tiles, nor saw the tip of the digital camera that peeked through it.
This was a spot Yasuda had staked out before. They had eaten there fairly often, and they always sat at the same large round booth. It was a
simple matter of slicing off a wedge of one of the wooden panels to get a camera lens in there.
"Even though you lost today Touya, it was a great game," Hikaru said. "And look, here come the sharks, after smelling the blood in the water."
Sure enough, a few reporters had followed the losers. Even losing, Akira Touya, the Meijin's son, sold papers well.
Click! Click click!
"Touya-sensei, can we get a few words about . . ."
"Shindou-sensei, how do you think that . . ."
The questions were all the usual ones, and they answered the questions politely but curtly. Nase felt special, as she was included in the little hubbub for once.
~~~
"Nase-san, I think you better look at this," one of the other women pros in her Tuesday study group said, holding out the previous week's edition
of Weekly Go.
"Hmmm? What's going on?"
"These pictures of you and Shindou-san and Touya-san . . . they're so cute together -- look at the bushes behind you."
Nase looked hard, and then held up the paper and squinted at it.
"It looks like . . . sneakers?"
"Yes," the other girl said grimly. "And a camera there." She pointed to a shiny spot in the bushes. "I think you have attracted an overzealous fan."
One of Nase's eyebrows shot up. "You mean a stalker?"
"Yeah." The other girl took back her paper, and her eyes were filled with a few traces of pity. "You have a stalker, Nase."
That day, after the study session was over, Nase's shoes were missing.
~~~
So, she had a stalker. Nase looked out at the moonlight spilling in from her window, pondering. What kind of person would bother hiding behind her at lunch and stealing her shoes? She'd had to walk home in her indoor shoes, which mean she had to buy a new pair of each. How annoying.
She thought about fame. It was not something that she had asked for. All she had wanted to do was pass the pro exam. Then the Young Woman's Tournament had come up, and she'd just barely become a pro in time to qualify for the prelims. She'd had some tough games, but she had studied her opponents well and attacked them at their weak spots. And she'd had the support of her friends. Waya and Isumi, Shindou and Akira . . . they were all there too.
But fame had found her, like it or not, and she was already attracting the wrong sort of fan, it seemed.
A rustling in the tree outside made her blood run cold.
Could it be . . . that he was out there? Those sneakers and that camera, waiting for her?
But Nase was no coward.
"Yaa-hooo," she called out to the tree. "Mr. Stalker out there, why can't you meet me face to face? Why can't you ask me out on a date like a normal guy? That's what I'd like. Just talk to me!"
Either she'd just made the stupidest move of her life, or she'd scared him off for good. Either way, she felt a bit better.
Attack them in their weak spots for victory!
~~~
"And then she asked me out," Yasuda said glumly over his sandwich at the lunch table. "It was so creepy I couldn't handle it. My love for Nase is over." He looked as though he was about to cry.
The rest of the Megumi Protection Society stared at him, incredulously. The entire tale was simply unbelievable.
"So the girl you were stalking . . ." Amatsuka Megumi began, her eyes dull.
" . . . saw you in the tree . . ." Genzo continued.
" . . . And asked you out on a date?" Fujioka Ichiro finished up.
Yasuda nodded miserably. "What do you say to that? The life of a hentai is finding the thrill in the act of spying, the connection in inanimate objects, the beauty captured forever in a picture . . . I don't even want her shoes any more. I'm just too weirded out by the whole thing."
They heard a tinkly laugh from the end of the table. "So instead of the stalker creeping out the object of his affections, the object did the creeping out instead!" Hanakain Miki seemed genuinely amused. "All I can say is, serves you right! And you'd better take her up on that date. You'll never get another shot at a girl like her." She winked.
"Yeah, yeah." Yasuda's glasses shined over, but then he suddenly took them off, revealing the beautiful eyes he kept hidden behind them. "Maybe I should try that after all."