Brightly Burning 5/? (Hikago)
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Brightly Burning
A Hikaru no Go Alternate Universe
Disclaimers: Hotta and Obata. Shonen Jump. Not Mine.
Chapter 5: Let This Be Enough
Akari shifted on her feet, her legs a bit tired and her mind overwhelmed with information. She had been standing far too long today and would have killed to have a place to sit down and rest. However it seemed that to watch a Go game, you had to squeeze in a painfully small space around a relatively small board as others contributed their opinions. The press of the crowd made her a bit claustrophobic and raised the heat in the room to an uncomfortable level.
Waya had been amazingly kind to her today. She didn't know what she would have done without his consideration, and she didn't want to impose anymore than she already had. Waya was carefully watching what Hikaru and the other player were doing, and he seemed to understand what was happening.
Akari wished she did. She remembered when she had heard about Hikaru's quitting soccer to become an Insei, whatever that was. It had come completely out of the blue, and she had no idea how to react.
He had pushed aside her concern. "I want to do something different," he had said, giving her a slight smile when she confronted him about the abrupt change. "We're already done with our games, so now's as good a time as any."
"But if you don't practice, how do you expect to play in high school?" she had asked, worried. Hikaru wasn't much of a student, but some schools would bend rules for a strong striker. If he dropped sports, she didn't know how he would fare. She might have understood if he gave up to study for entrance exams, but he had picked up something that took nearly as much time.
He had shrugged. "This is something that's important to me." For a second, his face had been serious in a way that transformed his face from her beloved friend into that of someone she didn't know. She didn't recognize the young man who stood next to her, with a stubborn set to his mouth and green eyes that seemed to be looking through her. Someone older and beyond her reach. Then the moment had fled, and she was left staring at the boy she'd known since childhood.
"But... Go? Isn't that an old man's game?" She had tried to keep any hint of insult out of her voice. Hikaru, with his bleached hair and casual style, didn't look at all like the men she'd seen in the window of the local Go salon.
Hikaru's eyes had flashed, and for a second she wondered if he was really himself. "Go is an ancient game. It's survived over 1,000 years for a reason." He had been proud of the game.
"I didn't know you liked Go! You don't even play with your grandfather..." she had cut herself off as a rather scary thought occurred to her. "Is that it? Is your grandfather okay?"
"He's fine," Hikaru had replied, blinking slowly as he tried to follow her train of thought. "Why?"
"I... I just thought you might..." She had struggled to find the words.
Hikaru wasn't that bright, but he managed to catch on. "Ah! No, no." He had waved his hands defensively in front of his chest. "I'm not doing it because of him." Akari, ever-perceptive toward Hikaru, caught the slight hitch in his voice.
"Then why?" she had asked, touching his elbow gently.
"Just because," he had said, before turning away. "I'm going to go get some ramen. Wanna come?"
It didn't matter how much she pried, nagged or pestered after that. He had just set his jaw and ignore her, or responded flippantly about "growing up."
His mother had been worried since she didn't know the first thing about Go. She had obliged when Hikaru had insisted on taking some kind of test to join a class of some sort, but Akari knew she understood about as little as she did about the world Hikaru was beginning to inhabit.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the crowd started to murmur after Hikaru played his fourth turn. Didn't Waya call it a hand when he was explaining earlier? Whatever Hikaru did, it was apparently something he shouldn't have, because everyone seemed upset or interested. Since she was standing between Waya and Isumi, she was able to listen to what they were saying.
"Honinbou Shuusaku’s kosumi," Waya whispered, looking at Isumi like that was important. "He likes using it, but Touya is going to take him apart..." he said. "Dammit. I was hoping Shindou would be a rival for Touya, but maybe it's a few years too soon.”
Isumi inched forward, studying the board. "I don't know about that... it's so rarely used... maybe he has something else planned?"
She wanted to ask what they were talking about. Who was Honinbou Shusaku? What was a kosumi? Waya's face was alive with interest, but all she saw were white and black stones on a board in no particular pattern she could discern. There were hardly any down, so what difference could one move make at this stage?
Waya abruptly remembered her present, because he offered her a little smile. "Shindou just played a move that, while popular a hundred years ago, isn't used much now. It was used by a man named Honinbou Shuusaku quite often as part of his opening fuseki."
"Honinbou Shuusaku was probably the best player of his era, and we all study his kifu," Isumi chimed in. "Kifu - that's the written record. Shindou plays a bit like him," he added a touch hastily for her benefit.
It did help her understand a bit but she was still a fish out of water. "He probably looked a lot at those... kifu... then."
"Most likely," Waya agreed. He was frowning thoughtfully as he looked at the board. "See, nowadays there's a 5.5 komi... um, handicap... placed on black. Since Shindou has black, he's got to beat Touya by six moku to win."
"That doesn't sound fair!" From what she'd gathered from overheard comments, Touya was a very good player. Most people didn't give Hikaru any chance of winning. Even though she had no clue what he was doing, he still was her best friend and she wanted him to do well.
"It's still harder to win with white. There's talk of adjusting to komi again to make the games more even," Waya said.
Akari could have cared less. Right now, she was looking at Hikaru's face and seeing nothing but an intense concentration she hadn't known him capable of until today. The boy sitting across from Hikaru was wearing a thoughtful look as he put another white stone down. Hikaru's hands seemed to be flying as he made a move before hitting the time clock. The boy - wasn't his name Touya? - took only a few moments longer. She wished she knew what they were doing. She wondered where the cheerful boy who had pulled her ponytails had gone.
She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering why she felt so cold all of the sudden.
*
Touya Akira's first memory was of a goban scattered with stones. He couldn't recall the game that had been on display, or even if white or black won, but he remembered seeing the stones and finding the "pa-chi!" they made as they hit the kaya utterly entrancing. He was definitely his father's son.
His Go wasn't his life, but life was in his Go. It was his passion, and his determination to win was the focus of his existence. Someday he would play his father and become the strongest Go player there was. He knew he wasn't there yet, but there weren't many who could threaten him.
It wasn't overconfidence that made him believe that he'd have a title by the time he was twenty. He simply knew his abilities and understood that most people were afraid to face him. It had been exciting first, to be someone so respected, but that had faded quickly into a kind of resignation. With no one who could play on his level, he had been reduced to playing nearly mind-numbing games that were merely ciphers on a chart. He was just marking time until he could play people like his father or Ogata. Everything came in time, and he had to be patient and wait his turn.
Now, as he sat staring at the board, he felt that feeling of enchantment that he'd been missing lately. He always played well, but like most people, he responded better to a challenge - and this boy was a challenge.
Shindou Hikaru was magnificent, the ideal composite of what a Go player should be. He had good instincts, his reading ability rivaled that of anyone Akira had every played, and his fine technique seemed unstoppable. Maybe the real key was his knowledge of life and death, those moments when a game could be made or lost in a single move.
Akira had thought he had Shindou cornered a few times, but he managed to pull out a few tricks that Akira had never even thought of. His style was different than Akira's hard-hitting Go subtly, full of surprising plays and manipulation. Akira felt his heart rate quicken as Shindou laid a tesuji he hadn't realized existed.
He noted, with rising interest, how Shindou seemed perfectly relaxed, his face and eyes intent on the game. There was no fidgeting, no indication of any kind of mental wandering. Part of Go involved understanding the mental state of your opponent, but Shindou was like a stone wall, strong and cold. There was no personality in his Go. Instead there was a mechanical feel in his style, like he was playing a computer instead of a flesh-and-blood person. There was nothing in his game that hinted he was trying to fire up Touya's passion, or trick him into a mistake.
In a very tiny corner of his mind, he allowed himself to indulge in the slightest feeling of annoyance. Then he smothered it, knowing that any distraction could spell the end for him.
They were quickly entering yose, and Touya started to wonder if he was winning. As he tried to read ahead, he became dizzy, the complex pattern of stones trying his abilities. He thought he was in the lead, but Shindou might have another surprise in store. He was surprised to find himself looking forward to it.
Around them, the crowd crackled with babble as they tried to figure out if Touya was winning or not. He tuned them out, bringing his focus into razor-sharp clarity.
It was hard for him to breathe. The confrontation on the board was squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was lost in breathless wonder until Shindou finally placed the final hand.
"Who won?"
"I can't see... Touya-sensei?"
"I can't believe Shindou..."
The babble of voices was distorted in Touya's head as he tried to focus on figuring it out. Normally it would only take a moment for him to figure out the score, but this time...
"It's 70-65," Shindou said in a slightly thick voice. "When you add komi, white wins by half a moku." Touya and Shindou stared at each other, unable to break away, each realizing that something amazing had just happened.
"A half moku..." the pro echoed. Touya almost shivered. How long had it been since he'd had such a good game? The thrill of not knowing who the victor would be and having an opponent who didn't back down had been something he'd lost long ago.
He studied Shindou carefully, noting the bleached hair and informal shirt with a touch of disgust. Shindou was stretching slowly, accepting condolences from his friends who were nearly tripping over themselves in their haste to assure him he had played impressively. Amano, the reporter, was eagerly scribbling down notes, while other pros were looking at Shindou like they'd seen a ghost.
Who was this boy, this... insei? Why wasn't he a pro yet?
Something about the board, despite its amazing complexities, still struck Touya as... wrong. He stared at the game, trying to figure it out. The kosumi... a weak move nowadays, an old style... as though Shindou was playing by rules 100 years out of date.
"You didn't take komi into consideration," Touya accused after a moment's consideration, realizing what had struck him as being so off. He stared down at the board, realizing that without the rule, he would have lost, and lost badly.
"No, my friend and I never played with it, except on the net," Shindou replied. He smiled a bit, holding a hand to the back of his head in embarrassment. "I guess I need more practice, don't I?" He rose to his feet and turned away, leaving a shocked Akira behind him.
His hands trembled as he began to clean the pieces away, knowing that something in his life had just been irrevocably changed forever. It was like diving off a cliff into icy waters without being sure how deep they were... or even if he could swim well enough to survive. "Who are you, Shindou Hikaru?" Touya Akira asked softly, realizing at long last someone had finally appeared before him who was worthy of being his rival.
*
Amano felt like he had been punched in the gut. Around him, others were starting to speak, thrilled about the game they had just seen. As they stared at the final board, he felt his breath coming back. The game would have been more suited to a title match, instead of a low-level tournament like this.
Shindou was already on his feet, trying to pass through the crowd. There was a rather pretty girl with him, her face confused and a bit frightened by the demands of the audience, who were all calling out questions.
"Who are you, kid?"
"Are you taking the pro exams?"
"Why did you play that kosumi?"
"Why aren't you a pro yet?"
The voices rose in pitch as they tried to drown each other out. Shindou was wearing a very perturbed look. "Hey, I gotta leave!" he said in annoyance. A few of the insei started to shoulder their way through the crowd to offer their help, but most of the pros were too intent on getting something out of Shindou to let them.
Amano's fingers twitched. He needed to have some answers for his article. He hated being too pushy, but while he was sure he could find Touya Akira again, something about Shindou was decidedly secretive and less than friendly. He knew instinctively that if he let Shindou slip away, he wouldn't be able to corner him in time to meet his deadline.
He let out a sigh of annoyance. If Shindou was always like this, he knew his next few years of reporting had just become that much more difficult.
"Don't worry," someone said from behind him. "You should be able to catch him outside." Amano jumped a bit before crossly wishing someone would make Shinoda wear a bell. He was far too good at sneaking up on people.
"I shouldn't have to chase him," Amano said with a touch of exasperation. "Most players know enough to wait for an after game talk."
"Shindou isn't most players," Shinoda said, projecting the serenity for which his was noted. "He knows very little about the Go world and its standard courtesies."
Shinoda had been the one who had warned Amano, in a round-about way, about the new insei. "Then who is he?"
Shinoda smiled slightly. "He's one of my students who should do well in the future."
Amano knew Shinoda was being diplomatic to avoid putting pressure on Shindou. "What would you say his chances of passing are?"
"Off the record? If he doesn't pass, it'll be because he manages to miss the exam. On the record, I believe he should be competitive."
Amano dutifully took the quote, wishing Amano wasn't so discrete. "Were you surprised by his achievement today?"
"If there's one thing I've learned about Shindou-kun, it's to expect the unexpected. I am pleased he performed so well under pressure. It bodes well for him."
That was a quote Amano could use, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Can I ask you something off the record?"
Shinoda, who had always been Amano's friend, nodded slowly. "Off the record."
"What do you honestly think of him?"
"Honestly? I haven't figure out his motivations, which is unusual. Usually I can tell if a student plays because he loves the game or is after fame. Sometimes they're pushed into it by their families, but when I met Shindou's mother, it was clear he wasn't doing it for her."
There was something Shinoda wasn't saying. "How about his teacher?"
"He only joined a study session recently. Before that, he learned from a friend and playing on the net."
The idea was boggling... and a creeping suspicion started to grow. The NetGo was synonymous with one master player. "Do you think he's Sai?"
"No." The response was definitive. "As good as he is, he's still not on Sai's or Touya Kouyo's level."
Amano deflated a bit. Discovering Sai's real identity would have been a great scoop.
"But I think he's definitely played Sai many times. There's elements of Sai's style ingrained in his play, a genuine understanding of how things work. It's something that can't be feigned."
"Sai's pupil?" Amano asked, breathless.
"Maybe. I haven't pushed him on it. He's... well, secretive isn't the right word. Stubborn? That might be right. I think you'll find out when you interview him."
Amano looked around, noting that Shindou had managed to vanish. "Speaking of which..."
Shinoda smiled with understanding. "Go, go," he said, waving his hands in a shooing gesture.
Amano nodded his thanks, before weaving (as well as an overweight man could) through the crowd, apologizing as he bumped into people. Shindou had moved rather quick, but Amano wasn't about to give up.
He finally caught up to Shindou outside. "Shindou-kun! Shindou-kun!" Amano called as he jogged after the insei. The insei, who had a pretty good lead, paused, offering a confused look as Amano finally stopped next to him. Amano bent over a little bit as he tried to catch his breath, panting and flushed. Shindou hadn't been running, but he still moved at a pace which was too fast for a middle-aged reporter to keep up with easily. Shindou and the girl stared at him curiously, the girl grabbing Shindou's arm and inching a bit closer to her friend.
"Shindou-kun? Could I have a moment?" he asked between gasps. Oxygen was gradually returning to his body, but he made a note to start using his treadmill more.
Shindou blinked at him, no recognition in his eyes. "Um, sure. Who are you?"
"I'm Amano Senji. I'm a reporter for Weekly Go."
"So?" Shindou sounded less than interested, glancing at the girl at his side. She elbowed him roughly, urging him to be more friendly. "What do you want with me?" he asked after a moment after glaring at his companion.
Amano wondered how Shindou could be that naive. "I wanted to talk to you about the tournament."
"I lost," Shindou said, shrugging it off. He started to turn again, but the girl's grip held him in place.
"Shindou, an insei has never made it to the final round of an insei-professional tournament. Touya Kouyo made it to the semi-finals in the New Stars Tournament, but that was back thirty years ago," Amano explained. It was hard to believe that this child had accomplished what he had. He didn't look the part. "Your achievements today are unprecedented."
The girl's jaw dropped just a bit. "Hikaru?" she said, and her hands were shaking as she clung to her friend.
He placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's fine, Akari." Then he turned to Amano. "I just played the way I usually do. I had a good teacher," Shindou said after a moment.
"Who was your teacher?" Amano practically pounced. "Is he a professional?" Is he called Sai? was on the tip of his tongue, but he decided not to venture there yet.
"I didn't have a teacher, not really," Shindou replied. "I learned from a friend." Amano's trained ear caught the hint of sorrow, and he noted the past tense.
Akari had backed off a bit, her face pale. "Who, Hikaru?"
He didn't answer her, a disappointment to Amano who wanted to learn how Shindou had become such a fearsome player. Instead, he merely shrugged a bit again before glancing at his watch. "Listen, we have to get going. My mother's expecting me."
It was more tactful a brush-off then Amano had expected. "I've got a few more quick questions," Amano said hastily, hoping to find out something. "How did you think Touya Akira was as an opponent?" Amano asked.
"Touya Akira? Oh, he's pretty good, but I'll beat him next time," Shindou promised. "He's not the Touya I want to play."
Amano's pen stilled at the sheer audacity of that statement. Many young insei had their heads full of playing the higher-ranking players, like Touya-sensei, but most understood it would be years before they had earned enough skill to deserve such a match. "You... want to play Touya-meijin?"
He was almost forced back by the way Shindou's eyes glittered. He had seen that look before, on high-ranking pros before they entered title matches. It was a look of a player seeking mastery of the game, who understood what Go really was.
"He's the one closest to the Hand of God, and I want to play that move," Shindou said. "Anything else is irrelevant."
Amano knew he looked like a landed fish, and the girl seemed as confused as he. The seriousness was gone from Shindou's face as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something more suited to a teenager. He took the girl's hand and tugged it lightly. "Akari, we need to go."
She nodded, meeting Amano's stunned gaze with one that was nearly apologetic. "Excuse us," she said, and then Shindou was dragging her away, leaving a pole-axed Amano behind.
Thanks to Sailor Mac for editing.
Brightly Burning
A Hikaru no Go Alternate Universe
Disclaimers: Hotta and Obata. Shonen Jump. Not Mine.
Chapter 5: Let This Be Enough
Akari shifted on her feet, her legs a bit tired and her mind overwhelmed with information. She had been standing far too long today and would have killed to have a place to sit down and rest. However it seemed that to watch a Go game, you had to squeeze in a painfully small space around a relatively small board as others contributed their opinions. The press of the crowd made her a bit claustrophobic and raised the heat in the room to an uncomfortable level.
Waya had been amazingly kind to her today. She didn't know what she would have done without his consideration, and she didn't want to impose anymore than she already had. Waya was carefully watching what Hikaru and the other player were doing, and he seemed to understand what was happening.
Akari wished she did. She remembered when she had heard about Hikaru's quitting soccer to become an Insei, whatever that was. It had come completely out of the blue, and she had no idea how to react.
He had pushed aside her concern. "I want to do something different," he had said, giving her a slight smile when she confronted him about the abrupt change. "We're already done with our games, so now's as good a time as any."
"But if you don't practice, how do you expect to play in high school?" she had asked, worried. Hikaru wasn't much of a student, but some schools would bend rules for a strong striker. If he dropped sports, she didn't know how he would fare. She might have understood if he gave up to study for entrance exams, but he had picked up something that took nearly as much time.
He had shrugged. "This is something that's important to me." For a second, his face had been serious in a way that transformed his face from her beloved friend into that of someone she didn't know. She didn't recognize the young man who stood next to her, with a stubborn set to his mouth and green eyes that seemed to be looking through her. Someone older and beyond her reach. Then the moment had fled, and she was left staring at the boy she'd known since childhood.
"But... Go? Isn't that an old man's game?" She had tried to keep any hint of insult out of her voice. Hikaru, with his bleached hair and casual style, didn't look at all like the men she'd seen in the window of the local Go salon.
Hikaru's eyes had flashed, and for a second she wondered if he was really himself. "Go is an ancient game. It's survived over 1,000 years for a reason." He had been proud of the game.
"I didn't know you liked Go! You don't even play with your grandfather..." she had cut herself off as a rather scary thought occurred to her. "Is that it? Is your grandfather okay?"
"He's fine," Hikaru had replied, blinking slowly as he tried to follow her train of thought. "Why?"
"I... I just thought you might..." She had struggled to find the words.
Hikaru wasn't that bright, but he managed to catch on. "Ah! No, no." He had waved his hands defensively in front of his chest. "I'm not doing it because of him." Akari, ever-perceptive toward Hikaru, caught the slight hitch in his voice.
"Then why?" she had asked, touching his elbow gently.
"Just because," he had said, before turning away. "I'm going to go get some ramen. Wanna come?"
It didn't matter how much she pried, nagged or pestered after that. He had just set his jaw and ignore her, or responded flippantly about "growing up."
His mother had been worried since she didn't know the first thing about Go. She had obliged when Hikaru had insisted on taking some kind of test to join a class of some sort, but Akari knew she understood about as little as she did about the world Hikaru was beginning to inhabit.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the crowd started to murmur after Hikaru played his fourth turn. Didn't Waya call it a hand when he was explaining earlier? Whatever Hikaru did, it was apparently something he shouldn't have, because everyone seemed upset or interested. Since she was standing between Waya and Isumi, she was able to listen to what they were saying.
"Honinbou Shuusaku’s kosumi," Waya whispered, looking at Isumi like that was important. "He likes using it, but Touya is going to take him apart..." he said. "Dammit. I was hoping Shindou would be a rival for Touya, but maybe it's a few years too soon.”
Isumi inched forward, studying the board. "I don't know about that... it's so rarely used... maybe he has something else planned?"
She wanted to ask what they were talking about. Who was Honinbou Shusaku? What was a kosumi? Waya's face was alive with interest, but all she saw were white and black stones on a board in no particular pattern she could discern. There were hardly any down, so what difference could one move make at this stage?
Waya abruptly remembered her present, because he offered her a little smile. "Shindou just played a move that, while popular a hundred years ago, isn't used much now. It was used by a man named Honinbou Shuusaku quite often as part of his opening fuseki."
"Honinbou Shuusaku was probably the best player of his era, and we all study his kifu," Isumi chimed in. "Kifu - that's the written record. Shindou plays a bit like him," he added a touch hastily for her benefit.
It did help her understand a bit but she was still a fish out of water. "He probably looked a lot at those... kifu... then."
"Most likely," Waya agreed. He was frowning thoughtfully as he looked at the board. "See, nowadays there's a 5.5 komi... um, handicap... placed on black. Since Shindou has black, he's got to beat Touya by six moku to win."
"That doesn't sound fair!" From what she'd gathered from overheard comments, Touya was a very good player. Most people didn't give Hikaru any chance of winning. Even though she had no clue what he was doing, he still was her best friend and she wanted him to do well.
"It's still harder to win with white. There's talk of adjusting to komi again to make the games more even," Waya said.
Akari could have cared less. Right now, she was looking at Hikaru's face and seeing nothing but an intense concentration she hadn't known him capable of until today. The boy sitting across from Hikaru was wearing a thoughtful look as he put another white stone down. Hikaru's hands seemed to be flying as he made a move before hitting the time clock. The boy - wasn't his name Touya? - took only a few moments longer. She wished she knew what they were doing. She wondered where the cheerful boy who had pulled her ponytails had gone.
She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering why she felt so cold all of the sudden.
*
Touya Akira's first memory was of a goban scattered with stones. He couldn't recall the game that had been on display, or even if white or black won, but he remembered seeing the stones and finding the "pa-chi!" they made as they hit the kaya utterly entrancing. He was definitely his father's son.
His Go wasn't his life, but life was in his Go. It was his passion, and his determination to win was the focus of his existence. Someday he would play his father and become the strongest Go player there was. He knew he wasn't there yet, but there weren't many who could threaten him.
It wasn't overconfidence that made him believe that he'd have a title by the time he was twenty. He simply knew his abilities and understood that most people were afraid to face him. It had been exciting first, to be someone so respected, but that had faded quickly into a kind of resignation. With no one who could play on his level, he had been reduced to playing nearly mind-numbing games that were merely ciphers on a chart. He was just marking time until he could play people like his father or Ogata. Everything came in time, and he had to be patient and wait his turn.
Now, as he sat staring at the board, he felt that feeling of enchantment that he'd been missing lately. He always played well, but like most people, he responded better to a challenge - and this boy was a challenge.
Shindou Hikaru was magnificent, the ideal composite of what a Go player should be. He had good instincts, his reading ability rivaled that of anyone Akira had every played, and his fine technique seemed unstoppable. Maybe the real key was his knowledge of life and death, those moments when a game could be made or lost in a single move.
Akira had thought he had Shindou cornered a few times, but he managed to pull out a few tricks that Akira had never even thought of. His style was different than Akira's hard-hitting Go subtly, full of surprising plays and manipulation. Akira felt his heart rate quicken as Shindou laid a tesuji he hadn't realized existed.
He noted, with rising interest, how Shindou seemed perfectly relaxed, his face and eyes intent on the game. There was no fidgeting, no indication of any kind of mental wandering. Part of Go involved understanding the mental state of your opponent, but Shindou was like a stone wall, strong and cold. There was no personality in his Go. Instead there was a mechanical feel in his style, like he was playing a computer instead of a flesh-and-blood person. There was nothing in his game that hinted he was trying to fire up Touya's passion, or trick him into a mistake.
In a very tiny corner of his mind, he allowed himself to indulge in the slightest feeling of annoyance. Then he smothered it, knowing that any distraction could spell the end for him.
They were quickly entering yose, and Touya started to wonder if he was winning. As he tried to read ahead, he became dizzy, the complex pattern of stones trying his abilities. He thought he was in the lead, but Shindou might have another surprise in store. He was surprised to find himself looking forward to it.
Around them, the crowd crackled with babble as they tried to figure out if Touya was winning or not. He tuned them out, bringing his focus into razor-sharp clarity.
It was hard for him to breathe. The confrontation on the board was squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was lost in breathless wonder until Shindou finally placed the final hand.
"Who won?"
"I can't see... Touya-sensei?"
"I can't believe Shindou..."
The babble of voices was distorted in Touya's head as he tried to focus on figuring it out. Normally it would only take a moment for him to figure out the score, but this time...
"It's 70-65," Shindou said in a slightly thick voice. "When you add komi, white wins by half a moku." Touya and Shindou stared at each other, unable to break away, each realizing that something amazing had just happened.
"A half moku..." the pro echoed. Touya almost shivered. How long had it been since he'd had such a good game? The thrill of not knowing who the victor would be and having an opponent who didn't back down had been something he'd lost long ago.
He studied Shindou carefully, noting the bleached hair and informal shirt with a touch of disgust. Shindou was stretching slowly, accepting condolences from his friends who were nearly tripping over themselves in their haste to assure him he had played impressively. Amano, the reporter, was eagerly scribbling down notes, while other pros were looking at Shindou like they'd seen a ghost.
Who was this boy, this... insei? Why wasn't he a pro yet?
Something about the board, despite its amazing complexities, still struck Touya as... wrong. He stared at the game, trying to figure it out. The kosumi... a weak move nowadays, an old style... as though Shindou was playing by rules 100 years out of date.
"You didn't take komi into consideration," Touya accused after a moment's consideration, realizing what had struck him as being so off. He stared down at the board, realizing that without the rule, he would have lost, and lost badly.
"No, my friend and I never played with it, except on the net," Shindou replied. He smiled a bit, holding a hand to the back of his head in embarrassment. "I guess I need more practice, don't I?" He rose to his feet and turned away, leaving a shocked Akira behind him.
His hands trembled as he began to clean the pieces away, knowing that something in his life had just been irrevocably changed forever. It was like diving off a cliff into icy waters without being sure how deep they were... or even if he could swim well enough to survive. "Who are you, Shindou Hikaru?" Touya Akira asked softly, realizing at long last someone had finally appeared before him who was worthy of being his rival.
*
Amano felt like he had been punched in the gut. Around him, others were starting to speak, thrilled about the game they had just seen. As they stared at the final board, he felt his breath coming back. The game would have been more suited to a title match, instead of a low-level tournament like this.
Shindou was already on his feet, trying to pass through the crowd. There was a rather pretty girl with him, her face confused and a bit frightened by the demands of the audience, who were all calling out questions.
"Who are you, kid?"
"Are you taking the pro exams?"
"Why did you play that kosumi?"
"Why aren't you a pro yet?"
The voices rose in pitch as they tried to drown each other out. Shindou was wearing a very perturbed look. "Hey, I gotta leave!" he said in annoyance. A few of the insei started to shoulder their way through the crowd to offer their help, but most of the pros were too intent on getting something out of Shindou to let them.
Amano's fingers twitched. He needed to have some answers for his article. He hated being too pushy, but while he was sure he could find Touya Akira again, something about Shindou was decidedly secretive and less than friendly. He knew instinctively that if he let Shindou slip away, he wouldn't be able to corner him in time to meet his deadline.
He let out a sigh of annoyance. If Shindou was always like this, he knew his next few years of reporting had just become that much more difficult.
"Don't worry," someone said from behind him. "You should be able to catch him outside." Amano jumped a bit before crossly wishing someone would make Shinoda wear a bell. He was far too good at sneaking up on people.
"I shouldn't have to chase him," Amano said with a touch of exasperation. "Most players know enough to wait for an after game talk."
"Shindou isn't most players," Shinoda said, projecting the serenity for which his was noted. "He knows very little about the Go world and its standard courtesies."
Shinoda had been the one who had warned Amano, in a round-about way, about the new insei. "Then who is he?"
Shinoda smiled slightly. "He's one of my students who should do well in the future."
Amano knew Shinoda was being diplomatic to avoid putting pressure on Shindou. "What would you say his chances of passing are?"
"Off the record? If he doesn't pass, it'll be because he manages to miss the exam. On the record, I believe he should be competitive."
Amano dutifully took the quote, wishing Amano wasn't so discrete. "Were you surprised by his achievement today?"
"If there's one thing I've learned about Shindou-kun, it's to expect the unexpected. I am pleased he performed so well under pressure. It bodes well for him."
That was a quote Amano could use, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Can I ask you something off the record?"
Shinoda, who had always been Amano's friend, nodded slowly. "Off the record."
"What do you honestly think of him?"
"Honestly? I haven't figure out his motivations, which is unusual. Usually I can tell if a student plays because he loves the game or is after fame. Sometimes they're pushed into it by their families, but when I met Shindou's mother, it was clear he wasn't doing it for her."
There was something Shinoda wasn't saying. "How about his teacher?"
"He only joined a study session recently. Before that, he learned from a friend and playing on the net."
The idea was boggling... and a creeping suspicion started to grow. The NetGo was synonymous with one master player. "Do you think he's Sai?"
"No." The response was definitive. "As good as he is, he's still not on Sai's or Touya Kouyo's level."
Amano deflated a bit. Discovering Sai's real identity would have been a great scoop.
"But I think he's definitely played Sai many times. There's elements of Sai's style ingrained in his play, a genuine understanding of how things work. It's something that can't be feigned."
"Sai's pupil?" Amano asked, breathless.
"Maybe. I haven't pushed him on it. He's... well, secretive isn't the right word. Stubborn? That might be right. I think you'll find out when you interview him."
Amano looked around, noting that Shindou had managed to vanish. "Speaking of which..."
Shinoda smiled with understanding. "Go, go," he said, waving his hands in a shooing gesture.
Amano nodded his thanks, before weaving (as well as an overweight man could) through the crowd, apologizing as he bumped into people. Shindou had moved rather quick, but Amano wasn't about to give up.
He finally caught up to Shindou outside. "Shindou-kun! Shindou-kun!" Amano called as he jogged after the insei. The insei, who had a pretty good lead, paused, offering a confused look as Amano finally stopped next to him. Amano bent over a little bit as he tried to catch his breath, panting and flushed. Shindou hadn't been running, but he still moved at a pace which was too fast for a middle-aged reporter to keep up with easily. Shindou and the girl stared at him curiously, the girl grabbing Shindou's arm and inching a bit closer to her friend.
"Shindou-kun? Could I have a moment?" he asked between gasps. Oxygen was gradually returning to his body, but he made a note to start using his treadmill more.
Shindou blinked at him, no recognition in his eyes. "Um, sure. Who are you?"
"I'm Amano Senji. I'm a reporter for Weekly Go."
"So?" Shindou sounded less than interested, glancing at the girl at his side. She elbowed him roughly, urging him to be more friendly. "What do you want with me?" he asked after a moment after glaring at his companion.
Amano wondered how Shindou could be that naive. "I wanted to talk to you about the tournament."
"I lost," Shindou said, shrugging it off. He started to turn again, but the girl's grip held him in place.
"Shindou, an insei has never made it to the final round of an insei-professional tournament. Touya Kouyo made it to the semi-finals in the New Stars Tournament, but that was back thirty years ago," Amano explained. It was hard to believe that this child had accomplished what he had. He didn't look the part. "Your achievements today are unprecedented."
The girl's jaw dropped just a bit. "Hikaru?" she said, and her hands were shaking as she clung to her friend.
He placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "It's fine, Akari." Then he turned to Amano. "I just played the way I usually do. I had a good teacher," Shindou said after a moment.
"Who was your teacher?" Amano practically pounced. "Is he a professional?" Is he called Sai? was on the tip of his tongue, but he decided not to venture there yet.
"I didn't have a teacher, not really," Shindou replied. "I learned from a friend." Amano's trained ear caught the hint of sorrow, and he noted the past tense.
Akari had backed off a bit, her face pale. "Who, Hikaru?"
He didn't answer her, a disappointment to Amano who wanted to learn how Shindou had become such a fearsome player. Instead, he merely shrugged a bit again before glancing at his watch. "Listen, we have to get going. My mother's expecting me."
It was more tactful a brush-off then Amano had expected. "I've got a few more quick questions," Amano said hastily, hoping to find out something. "How did you think Touya Akira was as an opponent?" Amano asked.
"Touya Akira? Oh, he's pretty good, but I'll beat him next time," Shindou promised. "He's not the Touya I want to play."
Amano's pen stilled at the sheer audacity of that statement. Many young insei had their heads full of playing the higher-ranking players, like Touya-sensei, but most understood it would be years before they had earned enough skill to deserve such a match. "You... want to play Touya-meijin?"
He was almost forced back by the way Shindou's eyes glittered. He had seen that look before, on high-ranking pros before they entered title matches. It was a look of a player seeking mastery of the game, who understood what Go really was.
"He's the one closest to the Hand of God, and I want to play that move," Shindou said. "Anything else is irrelevant."
Amano knew he looked like a landed fish, and the girl seemed as confused as he. The seriousness was gone from Shindou's face as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something more suited to a teenager. He took the girl's hand and tugged it lightly. "Akari, we need to go."
She nodded, meeting Amano's stunned gaze with one that was nearly apologetic. "Excuse us," she said, and then Shindou was dragging her away, leaving a pole-axed Amano behind.
Thanks to Sailor Mac for editing.