Brightly Burning (Hikaru no Go, 10/?)
Brightly Burning
~ A Hikaru no Go Alternate Universe ~
Disclaimers: Hotta and Obata. Shonen Jump. Not Mine.
Notes: Earlier parts of Brightly Burning are located here. Thanks to ai_ling and sailormac for editing!
Part 10: The Inevitable consequence of progress
The observation room exploded into noise at the completion of the Shindou versus Ogata game. Pros were sharing their opinions of the game, some quite vocally as they tried to understand the underlying motivations that had resulted in the game's conclusion.
It had not been a good game, for either Shindou or Ogata. Shindou hadn't lived up to his potential, but Ogata's Go had lacked the polish that usually marked the top players. Ogata's Go had been vicious and aggressive, and didn't reflect well on him. As a title holder, he shouldn't have played so inelegantly. Some were wondering if Ogata was hung over and cranky - not an unknown occurrence - while a couple speculated that he'd been dumped by his latest lady love again. His Go spoke of a foul mood and lack of patience.
At one table, a trio remained quiet, examining the board as they tried to sort out what had happened. Shindou had been forced to resign, but all could see what the final board would have been if the game had progressed.
“Well?” Waya said, looking at Isumi and Touya. He wondered if Shindou had cracked, if Shindou had felt the pressure of expectation and collapsed under the weight.
Isumi shrugged his shoulders. “It's not a game to remember,” he said. “There's nothing really special about any of the moves, although a couple of Shindou's as he attempted to come back might be useful to consider for future reference. It's not inspired, though, nothing like the way he usually plays.”
Touya took longer to reply to answer, and he focused on the player he knew better. “Ogata-san was angry,” Touya said. “He has a habit of reacting excessively when someone upsets him.”
“And if anyone has a gift for ticking people off, it's Shindou,” Waya agreed, following Touya's train of thought.
Touya lowered his eyes to the board. “I didn't mean to imply-”
“Touya-san, let's be honest. Shindou has a world-class Go talent only matched by his ability to put his foot in his mouth. He doesn't mean to annoy people, it just comes naturally to him,” Waya said. He laughed, although there was an edge of harshness to it. “It's amazing he doesn't have a whole slew of enemies lined up to take shots at him.”
“With his luck, they'd end up shooting each other,” Isumi replied, having heard of a couple of Shindou's more colorful exploits.
“It's not luck,” Touya said firmly. “Shindou's ability is skill.”
“What makes you say that?” Isumi asked.
“Because playing Go seems to hurt him,” Touya said. “Only knowledge acquired painfully can make a man look like that.”
Waya tried not to react to that statement. He knew Touya and Shindou had made tentative overtures of friendship - gossip tended to spread like influenza at the Go Institute - but he hadn't believed it to be a close relationship. According to Saeki - who heard it from Ashiwara, always a good source of information on the Touya study group - they hadn't even played a game. It was therefore remarkable for Touya to say something that implied such intimacy, because males rarely thought about other's pain the way women did.
Isumi shifted in his seat, and Waya realized that he was probably uncomfortable. Waya knew he was blushing a bit as well, and decided to change the topic. "Let's go and catch Shindou in the lobby," Waya said. "We'll get ramen and pick his brain about the game. I want to know what the hell he was thinking, pushing so hard into Ogata's territory so early."
"Why the lobby?" Touya asked curiously. “He'll probably be in post-game discussion for a while.”
Waya mentally cursed as he realized that he'd just inadvertently invited Touya along with them. It would be rude to tell him he wasn't welcome - and there was no way Isumi would let him get away with it. "Shindou's going to try to avoid the reporters and questions. He gets irritated when people start to pester him," Waya said.
"Then we should take the stairs," Touya suggested. "The elevator's going to be busy for a while."
Waya snickered and nodded his agreement. Most of the pros were in such poor physical shape that they wouldn't dream of taking the stairs. There was probably a queue that would take half an hour to clear. "Good idea," he said, and was rewarded with a shy smile.
He and Isumi cleared the board quickly, sorting the stones back into their appropriate containers. Then they left the room, forced to weave carefully through the crowd of players since many of them were gesticulating fiercely as they tried to make their points.
The trio ran down the stairs, and Waya was surprised that Isumi ended up the most winded. He hadn't believed Touya would be able to keep up, but apparently he did get some exercise. It made teasing Isumi a bit easier.
"You're getting old," he accused his friend playfully as they hit the second floor's landing, with Isumi panting heavily.
"I was sick last week," Isumi said in his own defense. "I'm still not operating at 100 percent."
"Yeah, yeah," Waya said, waving his hand back and forth dismissively. "Next thing you know, you'll be dyeing your hair to hide the gray."
“Right after you start lecturing the insei on the good old days,” Isumi retorted.
“When I was your age, we used to play Go with pebbles in the dirt since we couldn't afford gobans!” Waya said, his voice a rather poor, but recognizable, imitation of Kuwabara.
Touya chuckled, covering his mouth in surprise. He sounded young, like a little child. Waya canted an eyebrow at him, deciding that making Touya laugh was amusing. “Find something funny, little boy?” he asked in a querulous tone. “I'll be ten years in my grave before you are even ready to wash my Go stones!”
Touya's shoulders started to shake as he tried - and failed - to contain his laughter. Isumi was looking back and forth between them, trying to decide if the sudden camaraderie was a good thing, or just Waya's way of subtly mocking the high-ranked youth.
“He would say that!” Touya finally said, brushing a hand over his eyes. He composed himself quickly, but a smile still lingered around his lips. “Ogata-san actually does a better impression, though,” he confessed. “He's very good at mimicry.”
Waya laughed at that. “I can imagine. Ogata's open about his opinion of Kuwabara-” he started, but was interrupted by the sound of the door they had just exited.
Shindou stood at the base of the stairs, looking furtively around. He looked both annoyed and harassed, which Waya attributed to the post-game discussion. Amano was a nice enough guy, but he was tenacious when seeking a story. Add in an irate Ogata, and the experience had to be less than pleasurable.
“Yo, Shindou!” Waya said, clouting him on the shoulder. “Up for some ramen?”
The pensive expression on Shindou's face faded away, replaced by the vapid one Shindou adopted whenever the topic of his favorite food came up. “Ramen! You treating?” he asked.
“Isumi is!” Waya said without asking what Isumi's opinion was. Isumi rolled his eyes, but made no objection since he was familiar with Waya's habit of abusing his friends' wallets.
“Then sure!” Shindou agreed. “You coming, too, Touya-san?”
“If it's not a problem,” Touya said. He glanced over at Isumi, noticing the pained look on his face. "I'll split the bill with you," he murmured in an undertone.
Isumi gave him a grin of relief, and then the quartet set off for the nearest ramen stand. Waya had the feeling that Shindou was going to be his usual obtuse self, but somehow couldn't work up the annoyance to chide him about it. He was feeling too good.
Waya could admit - only in the depths of his mind - that seeing Shindou lose had actually made him more approachable. Shindou might be good, but he wasn't any closer to the Hand of God than any other Go player in the world. So Waya could offer him comfort and be his friend, because Shindou's loss had reassured the petty, jealous part of his heart. He didn't like what that said about him as a person.
He would have to change, Waya thought. He needed to become a better go player, so he could become a better friend.
After the game, Amano got a copy of the official record and proceeded to the Weekly Go office to write the story. He preferred to do the rough draft while the topic was still fresh in his memory. He'd be able to tweak it the next morning before handing it into his editor.
He fetched a cup of coffee - black, no sugar - and spread his notes and the kifu out on the desk. He settled himself into his seat and tried to think of the lead. Amano still wasn't used to the laptop they'd given him a year ago when the paper had gone entirely digital, but he was starting to get the hang of things, although he still took notes by hand. He fired up his machine, wishing that the freaking program wasn't so slow, and that the department still employed typesetters who would do the typing for him. He was of the old school, who had written stories in longhand.
It was tradition that the Shin Shodan game of the top qualifier received more attention, since it served to illustrate what kind of players were entering the league. He'd written the one on Ochi Kyousuke the year before without much interest, but Shindou Hikaru's article had been a story he'd been looking forward to tell.
Like many reporters, he tended to write a story in his head while on the scene, looking for angles and the highlights of the event. He'd been mentally preparing a story about Shindou, and what he was adding to the New Wave, for months. Now he had to scratch those plans because the game hadn't been anything to get excited about.
The game had been solid, played with skill, but it had lacked flair. Ogata had been in a foul mood, and hadn't sought to play - rather, he'd been out to crush. Shindou's hands were brilliant in a couple of places, but he hadn't been able to put together a cohesive offense.
He stared at the blank document, trying to think of what to say. Amano was still staring ten minutes later when his editor, Ishinami Toshito, stopped by. He glanced over his shoulder at his senior, feeling a bit guilty about being caught.
"I heard Ogata creamed the new insei," Ishinami said in a carefully neutral voice.
Amano tried not to cringe. He'd been telling his coworkers earlier that he had an interest in Shindou, citing his performance in the qualification exam and Young Lion's Tournament. Ishinami hadn't been involved in that conversation, but nothing went on in the office or the Institute that Ishinami didn't hear about within a day. Now his overblown expectations were popped like a balloon, and his colleagues would have plenty of fodder for teasing.
"He did," Amano said shortly. "Forced him to resign before yose."
"It's interesting that he would do that," Ishinami said. "He may have a mean streak, but he's a good teacher. Can I see the kifu?"
Amano shifted his notebook so he could extract the game record without crumpling it. Wordlessly he handed the paper over, and sat silently as his editor read it. Ishinami had earned his position through his ability to distill the essence of any game into crisp, clear writing. He had a way of helping his writers by asking the right questions. Amano spent three minutes trying not to shift in his chair.
"This reminds me of another new pro game I've seen recently," Ishinami said finally. He set the paper back down, a slight smile pulling on the corner of his lips.
"It does?"
"I think it was about two years ago - remember the game Zama Ouza played against young Touya?"
Amano let out a low whistle. He'd been at that game, and had thought Ouza was doing his best to crush the spirit of the Meijin's heir. It hadn't worked, but the fact that Zama had feared the skill of a newcomer was remarkable. If his editor was right - and Ishinami was legendary for his nearly supernatural ability to understand players' motivations - then Ogata was worried about an unknown player.
Amano considered the idea, twisting it about in his mind, and found he liked it. It fit into his previous perception that Shindou was something special. He pursed his lips, trying to keep his excitement from showing.
It didn't matter how good an actor he was, because Ishinami was already two steps ahead of him. "Interesting, isn't it? I wonder why Shindou has him - and all those other pros who requested to play him for his debut - worried."
Amano felt the smile bloom on his lips as he realized exactly how to write this article. Ogata's reaction, not the game itself, was the story. He nodded his thanks at the editor, before writing down a headline.
"The Edge of the New Wave Threatens..."
It was a strangely quiet quartet that finally found seats in the back of a ramen shop. It was dinner hour on a Saturday, and the patrons of the shop were young. Isumi was relieved that they didn't stand out, although they were more conservatively dressed than the rest of the crowd.
Somewhere along the way Shindou had managed to ditch his tie. From the bulge in his pants pocket, Isumi wagered it was wrinkled beyond repair. The buttons on his collar had been loosened, and he'd casually thrown the blue sweater across the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves.
It was strange to be in this company. Isumi still didn't know Shindou all that well, and before today he'd spoken less than a dozen words to Touya. Isumi hadn't known what to expect while spending time with Touya, but he'd been pleasantly surprised. Touya, like Isumi himself, was a naturally quiet person, introverted to the point of shyness. He would tentatively offer opinions when pressed, but most of the time he was content to just listen.
A cute waitress wearing a low-cut top arrived to take their order. To his surprise, Shindou only ordered one bowl, an indication of how upset he had to be. Waya's stories of Shindou's voracious appetite had made Isumi wince in fear of his wallet upon the invitation to this meal, but he would have preferred being cleaned out to the passive expression on Shindou's face.
Waya was talking about something - a date he was planning with his girlfriend to celebrate their six month anniversary - but no one was really responding. Shindou gave a half-hearted threat about what Waya could expect if he screwed it up, since Fujisaki was his best friend, and Touya ventured a suggestion on the type of flower to give, but the conversation was strained. It wasn't what was on their minds. No one had yet broached the subject of the game.
Isumi exchanged a look with Waya, wondering what his friend was planning. A slight shake of his head indicated Waya knew what Isumi wanted to ask, and wanted Isumi to wait. Isumi tried to figured out why as Shindou slurped away on the ramen.
Handling Shindou with kid gloves didn't make sense to Isumi. The boy was stubborn and sometimes painfully dense. Isumi knew the type, having tutored several young teenagers since becoming a pro. It would be best to confront Shindou directly if they wanted anything out of him, but he was more Waya's friend than Isumi's. He nodded slightly to indicate he understood what Waya wanted, a slight frown on his face expressing his discontent with that idea.
Another five minutes passed, and Shindou finished off his meal, pushing the bowl back. Isumi glanced at Waya, received a permissive nod, and asked the question that was the elephant in the room. "Now that we've fed you, are you ready to discuss your game?" Isumi asked, hoping his playful tone would mitigate any sting of inquisition his words might imply.
"There's nothing to discuss," Shindou said. He picked up his glass of water and took a drink, which was complicated by the fact that only ice cubes were left in it. He gave it an annoyed scowl, before leaning over to swipe Waya's untouched glass. Isumi wasn't surprised at his rudeness.
"There's always something to discuss," Touya said softly. "If we don't learn from every game we play, we're never going to find the Hand of God."
Isumi had heard many pros yammer on and on about the Hand of God, but there was a sincerity in Touya's voice that took him aback. Most pros speculated what it was, and would occasionally make comments about hoping to take a step on the path.
Touya, though, spoke as though it was a foregone conclusion that it wasn't an if the Hand of God would be found, but when. Isumi found himself staring at the Meijin's son, trying to decide what he thought of that.
He wasn't the only one struck by Touya's tone. Shindou, who had been feigning apathy, suddenly was fully attentive. His eyes were narrowed and focused on Touya, his face wearing an expression Isumi hadn't seen outside of an intense game. Touya stared back at him unashamedly, and Isumi shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
The atmosphere had suddenly become intense, with invisible energy crackling between the two prodigies. Being on the outside was a discomforting sensation, and Isumi would have looked over at Waya for reassurance if he had dared to take his eyes off the two.
"Why did you play like that, Shindou-san?" Touya asked, his voice carefully modulated to avoid the tone of accusation.
"Like what?" Shindou asked.
"Like you were unsure of yourself," Touya replied. "Did the pressure of an actual recorded game get to you?"
"Well, maybe it's because I'm not good enough," Hikaru snapped.
"I think you are," Touya said evenly.
Isumi felt like he was watching a tennis match, his head moving back and forth between the two younger players rapidly enough to make him just a bit dizzy. He hated feeling like he was missing something. A quick glance at Waya showed his friend was in the same boat.
"You don't even know me," Shindou replied. "None of you do."
Waya flinched as though he was slapped, but Touya wasn't backing down. "I've played you, Shindou-san, which means I know you. There's no better way to get to know a person's mind than by facing them across the goban."
"That game doesn't count," Shindou replied, his nostrils flaring as his face started to turn red.
Before, Shindou had treated his loss very matter-of-factly, brushing it off with little acknowledgment. Now Isumi could see that losing to Touya Akira had bothered him, or at least pricked his pride. It was a relief to know that, Isumi thought, since otherwise Shindou became nearly an otherworldly entity. No sixteen year old should have the serenity of a master player with decades of experience under his belt.
"Really? I seem to remember collecting a tournament prize, so why doesn't it count?" Touya asked. He spoke calmly, not offended by the implied slight, by the way Shindou wasn't acknowledging him as a player.
"Because..." Shindou opened his mouth, before running an agitated hand through his hair. "Because you weren't taking me seriously."
Touya's face took on a cold expression, the one he usually wore while playing. Isumi's throat tightened, ready for an offended torrent of insults to fly. Strangely, it was Waya who defused the situation.
"Are you going to say your match against Ogata didn't count?" Waya asked, quirking his eyebrow in a playfully interrogative fashion. "He wasn't taking you that seriously, either. Shindou, every match counts, even the ones you lose."
"Especially the ones you lose," Akira added, some of the tension fading from his shoulders. Isumi relaxed as well, realizing that a screaming match had been deferred. "We're not measured by our victories - we're measured by our losses, and what we do to climb back up after them."
Shindou looked like someone hit him upside the head. His eyes went wide, and he started to breathe more heavily. Isumi wondered if he was about to have a panic attack.
"Are you okay, Shindou?" Isumi asked, cutting into the discussion before Waya or Touya could pounce on the perceived weakness. Shindou's color was waxen.
Shindou ignored the question. "No one wins all the time." He picked up a paper napkin and wiped his mouth, before discarding it back onto the table. "But that doesn't mean they shouldn't try to."
"No Go player wants to lose - but we all learn," Touya said, "which is a kind of victory in and of itself."
"I won't lose to you again," Shindou said, his face lacking his characteristic smile.
The tension in the air between the two was palpable, and Waya glared threateningly at Isumi when he opened his mouth to try to dispel it. A quick shake of Waya's head conveyed his message: this was between the two Go prodigies, and they needed to work the confrontation out themselves.
"Come after me, then, Shindou-shodan," Touya Akira challenged, rising to his feet. His hands were held rigidly at his sides, and there was something dangerous in the slight curve of his lips.
"Come after you?" Shindou Hikaru echoed, and then he was on his feet as well, his hands cockily crossed over his chest. "I'm going to go right by you, Touya 3-dan."
As he stared at them, Isumi felt like he was witnessing something momentous. He just wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.
~ A Hikaru no Go Alternate Universe ~
Disclaimers: Hotta and Obata. Shonen Jump. Not Mine.
Notes: Earlier parts of Brightly Burning are located here. Thanks to ai_ling and sailormac for editing!
Part 10: The Inevitable consequence of progress
The observation room exploded into noise at the completion of the Shindou versus Ogata game. Pros were sharing their opinions of the game, some quite vocally as they tried to understand the underlying motivations that had resulted in the game's conclusion.
It had not been a good game, for either Shindou or Ogata. Shindou hadn't lived up to his potential, but Ogata's Go had lacked the polish that usually marked the top players. Ogata's Go had been vicious and aggressive, and didn't reflect well on him. As a title holder, he shouldn't have played so inelegantly. Some were wondering if Ogata was hung over and cranky - not an unknown occurrence - while a couple speculated that he'd been dumped by his latest lady love again. His Go spoke of a foul mood and lack of patience.
At one table, a trio remained quiet, examining the board as they tried to sort out what had happened. Shindou had been forced to resign, but all could see what the final board would have been if the game had progressed.
“Well?” Waya said, looking at Isumi and Touya. He wondered if Shindou had cracked, if Shindou had felt the pressure of expectation and collapsed under the weight.
Isumi shrugged his shoulders. “It's not a game to remember,” he said. “There's nothing really special about any of the moves, although a couple of Shindou's as he attempted to come back might be useful to consider for future reference. It's not inspired, though, nothing like the way he usually plays.”
Touya took longer to reply to answer, and he focused on the player he knew better. “Ogata-san was angry,” Touya said. “He has a habit of reacting excessively when someone upsets him.”
“And if anyone has a gift for ticking people off, it's Shindou,” Waya agreed, following Touya's train of thought.
Touya lowered his eyes to the board. “I didn't mean to imply-”
“Touya-san, let's be honest. Shindou has a world-class Go talent only matched by his ability to put his foot in his mouth. He doesn't mean to annoy people, it just comes naturally to him,” Waya said. He laughed, although there was an edge of harshness to it. “It's amazing he doesn't have a whole slew of enemies lined up to take shots at him.”
“With his luck, they'd end up shooting each other,” Isumi replied, having heard of a couple of Shindou's more colorful exploits.
“It's not luck,” Touya said firmly. “Shindou's ability is skill.”
“What makes you say that?” Isumi asked.
“Because playing Go seems to hurt him,” Touya said. “Only knowledge acquired painfully can make a man look like that.”
Waya tried not to react to that statement. He knew Touya and Shindou had made tentative overtures of friendship - gossip tended to spread like influenza at the Go Institute - but he hadn't believed it to be a close relationship. According to Saeki - who heard it from Ashiwara, always a good source of information on the Touya study group - they hadn't even played a game. It was therefore remarkable for Touya to say something that implied such intimacy, because males rarely thought about other's pain the way women did.
Isumi shifted in his seat, and Waya realized that he was probably uncomfortable. Waya knew he was blushing a bit as well, and decided to change the topic. "Let's go and catch Shindou in the lobby," Waya said. "We'll get ramen and pick his brain about the game. I want to know what the hell he was thinking, pushing so hard into Ogata's territory so early."
"Why the lobby?" Touya asked curiously. “He'll probably be in post-game discussion for a while.”
Waya mentally cursed as he realized that he'd just inadvertently invited Touya along with them. It would be rude to tell him he wasn't welcome - and there was no way Isumi would let him get away with it. "Shindou's going to try to avoid the reporters and questions. He gets irritated when people start to pester him," Waya said.
"Then we should take the stairs," Touya suggested. "The elevator's going to be busy for a while."
Waya snickered and nodded his agreement. Most of the pros were in such poor physical shape that they wouldn't dream of taking the stairs. There was probably a queue that would take half an hour to clear. "Good idea," he said, and was rewarded with a shy smile.
He and Isumi cleared the board quickly, sorting the stones back into their appropriate containers. Then they left the room, forced to weave carefully through the crowd of players since many of them were gesticulating fiercely as they tried to make their points.
The trio ran down the stairs, and Waya was surprised that Isumi ended up the most winded. He hadn't believed Touya would be able to keep up, but apparently he did get some exercise. It made teasing Isumi a bit easier.
"You're getting old," he accused his friend playfully as they hit the second floor's landing, with Isumi panting heavily.
"I was sick last week," Isumi said in his own defense. "I'm still not operating at 100 percent."
"Yeah, yeah," Waya said, waving his hand back and forth dismissively. "Next thing you know, you'll be dyeing your hair to hide the gray."
“Right after you start lecturing the insei on the good old days,” Isumi retorted.
“When I was your age, we used to play Go with pebbles in the dirt since we couldn't afford gobans!” Waya said, his voice a rather poor, but recognizable, imitation of Kuwabara.
Touya chuckled, covering his mouth in surprise. He sounded young, like a little child. Waya canted an eyebrow at him, deciding that making Touya laugh was amusing. “Find something funny, little boy?” he asked in a querulous tone. “I'll be ten years in my grave before you are even ready to wash my Go stones!”
Touya's shoulders started to shake as he tried - and failed - to contain his laughter. Isumi was looking back and forth between them, trying to decide if the sudden camaraderie was a good thing, or just Waya's way of subtly mocking the high-ranked youth.
“He would say that!” Touya finally said, brushing a hand over his eyes. He composed himself quickly, but a smile still lingered around his lips. “Ogata-san actually does a better impression, though,” he confessed. “He's very good at mimicry.”
Waya laughed at that. “I can imagine. Ogata's open about his opinion of Kuwabara-” he started, but was interrupted by the sound of the door they had just exited.
Shindou stood at the base of the stairs, looking furtively around. He looked both annoyed and harassed, which Waya attributed to the post-game discussion. Amano was a nice enough guy, but he was tenacious when seeking a story. Add in an irate Ogata, and the experience had to be less than pleasurable.
“Yo, Shindou!” Waya said, clouting him on the shoulder. “Up for some ramen?”
The pensive expression on Shindou's face faded away, replaced by the vapid one Shindou adopted whenever the topic of his favorite food came up. “Ramen! You treating?” he asked.
“Isumi is!” Waya said without asking what Isumi's opinion was. Isumi rolled his eyes, but made no objection since he was familiar with Waya's habit of abusing his friends' wallets.
“Then sure!” Shindou agreed. “You coming, too, Touya-san?”
“If it's not a problem,” Touya said. He glanced over at Isumi, noticing the pained look on his face. "I'll split the bill with you," he murmured in an undertone.
Isumi gave him a grin of relief, and then the quartet set off for the nearest ramen stand. Waya had the feeling that Shindou was going to be his usual obtuse self, but somehow couldn't work up the annoyance to chide him about it. He was feeling too good.
Waya could admit - only in the depths of his mind - that seeing Shindou lose had actually made him more approachable. Shindou might be good, but he wasn't any closer to the Hand of God than any other Go player in the world. So Waya could offer him comfort and be his friend, because Shindou's loss had reassured the petty, jealous part of his heart. He didn't like what that said about him as a person.
He would have to change, Waya thought. He needed to become a better go player, so he could become a better friend.
After the game, Amano got a copy of the official record and proceeded to the Weekly Go office to write the story. He preferred to do the rough draft while the topic was still fresh in his memory. He'd be able to tweak it the next morning before handing it into his editor.
He fetched a cup of coffee - black, no sugar - and spread his notes and the kifu out on the desk. He settled himself into his seat and tried to think of the lead. Amano still wasn't used to the laptop they'd given him a year ago when the paper had gone entirely digital, but he was starting to get the hang of things, although he still took notes by hand. He fired up his machine, wishing that the freaking program wasn't so slow, and that the department still employed typesetters who would do the typing for him. He was of the old school, who had written stories in longhand.
It was tradition that the Shin Shodan game of the top qualifier received more attention, since it served to illustrate what kind of players were entering the league. He'd written the one on Ochi Kyousuke the year before without much interest, but Shindou Hikaru's article had been a story he'd been looking forward to tell.
Like many reporters, he tended to write a story in his head while on the scene, looking for angles and the highlights of the event. He'd been mentally preparing a story about Shindou, and what he was adding to the New Wave, for months. Now he had to scratch those plans because the game hadn't been anything to get excited about.
The game had been solid, played with skill, but it had lacked flair. Ogata had been in a foul mood, and hadn't sought to play - rather, he'd been out to crush. Shindou's hands were brilliant in a couple of places, but he hadn't been able to put together a cohesive offense.
He stared at the blank document, trying to think of what to say. Amano was still staring ten minutes later when his editor, Ishinami Toshito, stopped by. He glanced over his shoulder at his senior, feeling a bit guilty about being caught.
"I heard Ogata creamed the new insei," Ishinami said in a carefully neutral voice.
Amano tried not to cringe. He'd been telling his coworkers earlier that he had an interest in Shindou, citing his performance in the qualification exam and Young Lion's Tournament. Ishinami hadn't been involved in that conversation, but nothing went on in the office or the Institute that Ishinami didn't hear about within a day. Now his overblown expectations were popped like a balloon, and his colleagues would have plenty of fodder for teasing.
"He did," Amano said shortly. "Forced him to resign before yose."
"It's interesting that he would do that," Ishinami said. "He may have a mean streak, but he's a good teacher. Can I see the kifu?"
Amano shifted his notebook so he could extract the game record without crumpling it. Wordlessly he handed the paper over, and sat silently as his editor read it. Ishinami had earned his position through his ability to distill the essence of any game into crisp, clear writing. He had a way of helping his writers by asking the right questions. Amano spent three minutes trying not to shift in his chair.
"This reminds me of another new pro game I've seen recently," Ishinami said finally. He set the paper back down, a slight smile pulling on the corner of his lips.
"It does?"
"I think it was about two years ago - remember the game Zama Ouza played against young Touya?"
Amano let out a low whistle. He'd been at that game, and had thought Ouza was doing his best to crush the spirit of the Meijin's heir. It hadn't worked, but the fact that Zama had feared the skill of a newcomer was remarkable. If his editor was right - and Ishinami was legendary for his nearly supernatural ability to understand players' motivations - then Ogata was worried about an unknown player.
Amano considered the idea, twisting it about in his mind, and found he liked it. It fit into his previous perception that Shindou was something special. He pursed his lips, trying to keep his excitement from showing.
It didn't matter how good an actor he was, because Ishinami was already two steps ahead of him. "Interesting, isn't it? I wonder why Shindou has him - and all those other pros who requested to play him for his debut - worried."
Amano felt the smile bloom on his lips as he realized exactly how to write this article. Ogata's reaction, not the game itself, was the story. He nodded his thanks at the editor, before writing down a headline.
"The Edge of the New Wave Threatens..."
It was a strangely quiet quartet that finally found seats in the back of a ramen shop. It was dinner hour on a Saturday, and the patrons of the shop were young. Isumi was relieved that they didn't stand out, although they were more conservatively dressed than the rest of the crowd.
Somewhere along the way Shindou had managed to ditch his tie. From the bulge in his pants pocket, Isumi wagered it was wrinkled beyond repair. The buttons on his collar had been loosened, and he'd casually thrown the blue sweater across the back of his chair and rolled up his sleeves.
It was strange to be in this company. Isumi still didn't know Shindou all that well, and before today he'd spoken less than a dozen words to Touya. Isumi hadn't known what to expect while spending time with Touya, but he'd been pleasantly surprised. Touya, like Isumi himself, was a naturally quiet person, introverted to the point of shyness. He would tentatively offer opinions when pressed, but most of the time he was content to just listen.
A cute waitress wearing a low-cut top arrived to take their order. To his surprise, Shindou only ordered one bowl, an indication of how upset he had to be. Waya's stories of Shindou's voracious appetite had made Isumi wince in fear of his wallet upon the invitation to this meal, but he would have preferred being cleaned out to the passive expression on Shindou's face.
Waya was talking about something - a date he was planning with his girlfriend to celebrate their six month anniversary - but no one was really responding. Shindou gave a half-hearted threat about what Waya could expect if he screwed it up, since Fujisaki was his best friend, and Touya ventured a suggestion on the type of flower to give, but the conversation was strained. It wasn't what was on their minds. No one had yet broached the subject of the game.
Isumi exchanged a look with Waya, wondering what his friend was planning. A slight shake of his head indicated Waya knew what Isumi wanted to ask, and wanted Isumi to wait. Isumi tried to figured out why as Shindou slurped away on the ramen.
Handling Shindou with kid gloves didn't make sense to Isumi. The boy was stubborn and sometimes painfully dense. Isumi knew the type, having tutored several young teenagers since becoming a pro. It would be best to confront Shindou directly if they wanted anything out of him, but he was more Waya's friend than Isumi's. He nodded slightly to indicate he understood what Waya wanted, a slight frown on his face expressing his discontent with that idea.
Another five minutes passed, and Shindou finished off his meal, pushing the bowl back. Isumi glanced at Waya, received a permissive nod, and asked the question that was the elephant in the room. "Now that we've fed you, are you ready to discuss your game?" Isumi asked, hoping his playful tone would mitigate any sting of inquisition his words might imply.
"There's nothing to discuss," Shindou said. He picked up his glass of water and took a drink, which was complicated by the fact that only ice cubes were left in it. He gave it an annoyed scowl, before leaning over to swipe Waya's untouched glass. Isumi wasn't surprised at his rudeness.
"There's always something to discuss," Touya said softly. "If we don't learn from every game we play, we're never going to find the Hand of God."
Isumi had heard many pros yammer on and on about the Hand of God, but there was a sincerity in Touya's voice that took him aback. Most pros speculated what it was, and would occasionally make comments about hoping to take a step on the path.
Touya, though, spoke as though it was a foregone conclusion that it wasn't an if the Hand of God would be found, but when. Isumi found himself staring at the Meijin's son, trying to decide what he thought of that.
He wasn't the only one struck by Touya's tone. Shindou, who had been feigning apathy, suddenly was fully attentive. His eyes were narrowed and focused on Touya, his face wearing an expression Isumi hadn't seen outside of an intense game. Touya stared back at him unashamedly, and Isumi shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
The atmosphere had suddenly become intense, with invisible energy crackling between the two prodigies. Being on the outside was a discomforting sensation, and Isumi would have looked over at Waya for reassurance if he had dared to take his eyes off the two.
"Why did you play like that, Shindou-san?" Touya asked, his voice carefully modulated to avoid the tone of accusation.
"Like what?" Shindou asked.
"Like you were unsure of yourself," Touya replied. "Did the pressure of an actual recorded game get to you?"
"Well, maybe it's because I'm not good enough," Hikaru snapped.
"I think you are," Touya said evenly.
Isumi felt like he was watching a tennis match, his head moving back and forth between the two younger players rapidly enough to make him just a bit dizzy. He hated feeling like he was missing something. A quick glance at Waya showed his friend was in the same boat.
"You don't even know me," Shindou replied. "None of you do."
Waya flinched as though he was slapped, but Touya wasn't backing down. "I've played you, Shindou-san, which means I know you. There's no better way to get to know a person's mind than by facing them across the goban."
"That game doesn't count," Shindou replied, his nostrils flaring as his face started to turn red.
Before, Shindou had treated his loss very matter-of-factly, brushing it off with little acknowledgment. Now Isumi could see that losing to Touya Akira had bothered him, or at least pricked his pride. It was a relief to know that, Isumi thought, since otherwise Shindou became nearly an otherworldly entity. No sixteen year old should have the serenity of a master player with decades of experience under his belt.
"Really? I seem to remember collecting a tournament prize, so why doesn't it count?" Touya asked. He spoke calmly, not offended by the implied slight, by the way Shindou wasn't acknowledging him as a player.
"Because..." Shindou opened his mouth, before running an agitated hand through his hair. "Because you weren't taking me seriously."
Touya's face took on a cold expression, the one he usually wore while playing. Isumi's throat tightened, ready for an offended torrent of insults to fly. Strangely, it was Waya who defused the situation.
"Are you going to say your match against Ogata didn't count?" Waya asked, quirking his eyebrow in a playfully interrogative fashion. "He wasn't taking you that seriously, either. Shindou, every match counts, even the ones you lose."
"Especially the ones you lose," Akira added, some of the tension fading from his shoulders. Isumi relaxed as well, realizing that a screaming match had been deferred. "We're not measured by our victories - we're measured by our losses, and what we do to climb back up after them."
Shindou looked like someone hit him upside the head. His eyes went wide, and he started to breathe more heavily. Isumi wondered if he was about to have a panic attack.
"Are you okay, Shindou?" Isumi asked, cutting into the discussion before Waya or Touya could pounce on the perceived weakness. Shindou's color was waxen.
Shindou ignored the question. "No one wins all the time." He picked up a paper napkin and wiped his mouth, before discarding it back onto the table. "But that doesn't mean they shouldn't try to."
"No Go player wants to lose - but we all learn," Touya said, "which is a kind of victory in and of itself."
"I won't lose to you again," Shindou said, his face lacking his characteristic smile.
The tension in the air between the two was palpable, and Waya glared threateningly at Isumi when he opened his mouth to try to dispel it. A quick shake of Waya's head conveyed his message: this was between the two Go prodigies, and they needed to work the confrontation out themselves.
"Come after me, then, Shindou-shodan," Touya Akira challenged, rising to his feet. His hands were held rigidly at his sides, and there was something dangerous in the slight curve of his lips.
"Come after you?" Shindou Hikaru echoed, and then he was on his feet as well, his hands cockily crossed over his chest. "I'm going to go right by you, Touya 3-dan."
As he stared at them, Isumi felt like he was witnessing something momentous. He just wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.