Hikaru no Go - Two Threads
Title: Two Threads
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Character: Isumi
Wordcount/Rating: 539 words / G
Summary: As the last two games of the pro exam commence, Isumi waits.
Notes: Thanks to aiwritingfic and spicyasparagus for the beta. Reviews or concrit are appreciated. Written for chain_of_fics. Also my first HnG fic.
He shuts his eyes and he listens and he tries not to think.
Of Waya's game against Fuku. Of Shindou's game against Ochi. Of the fact that his chances of making the pros now hang by two slim threads.
He sits outside the building with his head bent, hoping, waiting and praying for a miracle. After all, it could happen. Waya might lose against Fuku. Yes, he might, since Waya is known to be weak against Fuku. Shindou, on his part, might also lose against Ochi. There are rumours circulating around that Ochi had hired a pro to coach him for this match against Shindou, even though he had already passed, simply because Ochi is possessed by a desire to win no matter how high or low the stakes are. Yes, it just might happen. He tries to ignore the swift thumping of his heart and the sweat forming on his palms.
A drop of water hits the ground in front of him, sounding like a soft echo of Go stones being placed.
“Rain.”
There is a chance that at least one of those games might have been decided by now. Might as well go in, he thinks.
Entering the building, he walks towards the examination room. He hears multiple voices and turns sharply. Voices overlaid with the merry tone of congratulations reach his ear at the same time his eyes catch sight of a spiky head and an overjoyed face alight with laughter.
One of the slim threads snap as he walks over to a nearby table, banging his fisted hand upon it. He moves around jerkily, unable to sit still. Soon, he will know. Soon.
He catches sight of reporters exiting the building, murmuring to each other. It's over, he knows, and he waits anxiously, desperate to know the result.
Minutes pass, and he paces the room, waiting for someone to come and tell him who won. He cannot stand this endless waiting, he needs to know, and know now. He is infuriated by the room’s silence - his imagination was free to assume all sorts of things thanks to it.
He waits and waits. Nobody comes.
And then the realisation hits him. Nobody comes because there is no need to inform him of anything. Shindou has won, Waya has won and there will be no playoff.
The final thread connecting him to his dream of finally becoming a pro this year snaps.
His face goes blank, carefully disguising the anger and sorrow within him as he leaves the building. Shindou and Waya are his friends, but he can't be happy for them now. Not when they've passed and he, for the fourth time, has failed. Once he's had some time on his own, though, maybe he will congratulate them later.
He thinks back to that day, to that moment in his game against Shindou when he moved the stone after removing his finger from it. Since then, his emotions have rarely been calm and he has not been playing at his best. Walking home, he wonders what the results would have been had he not allowed himself to be so easily distracted. If only his mental strength had been stronger, even if just by a little bit.
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Character: Isumi
Wordcount/Rating: 539 words / G
Summary: As the last two games of the pro exam commence, Isumi waits.
Notes: Thanks to aiwritingfic and spicyasparagus for the beta. Reviews or concrit are appreciated. Written for chain_of_fics. Also my first HnG fic.
He shuts his eyes and he listens and he tries not to think.
Of Waya's game against Fuku. Of Shindou's game against Ochi. Of the fact that his chances of making the pros now hang by two slim threads.
He sits outside the building with his head bent, hoping, waiting and praying for a miracle. After all, it could happen. Waya might lose against Fuku. Yes, he might, since Waya is known to be weak against Fuku. Shindou, on his part, might also lose against Ochi. There are rumours circulating around that Ochi had hired a pro to coach him for this match against Shindou, even though he had already passed, simply because Ochi is possessed by a desire to win no matter how high or low the stakes are. Yes, it just might happen. He tries to ignore the swift thumping of his heart and the sweat forming on his palms.
A drop of water hits the ground in front of him, sounding like a soft echo of Go stones being placed.
“Rain.”
There is a chance that at least one of those games might have been decided by now. Might as well go in, he thinks.
Entering the building, he walks towards the examination room. He hears multiple voices and turns sharply. Voices overlaid with the merry tone of congratulations reach his ear at the same time his eyes catch sight of a spiky head and an overjoyed face alight with laughter.
One of the slim threads snap as he walks over to a nearby table, banging his fisted hand upon it. He moves around jerkily, unable to sit still. Soon, he will know. Soon.
He catches sight of reporters exiting the building, murmuring to each other. It's over, he knows, and he waits anxiously, desperate to know the result.
Minutes pass, and he paces the room, waiting for someone to come and tell him who won. He cannot stand this endless waiting, he needs to know, and know now. He is infuriated by the room’s silence - his imagination was free to assume all sorts of things thanks to it.
He waits and waits. Nobody comes.
And then the realisation hits him. Nobody comes because there is no need to inform him of anything. Shindou has won, Waya has won and there will be no playoff.
The final thread connecting him to his dream of finally becoming a pro this year snaps.
His face goes blank, carefully disguising the anger and sorrow within him as he leaves the building. Shindou and Waya are his friends, but he can't be happy for them now. Not when they've passed and he, for the fourth time, has failed. Once he's had some time on his own, though, maybe he will congratulate them later.
He thinks back to that day, to that moment in his game against Shindou when he moved the stone after removing his finger from it. Since then, his emotions have rarely been calm and he has not been playing at his best. Walking home, he wonders what the results would have been had he not allowed himself to be so easily distracted. If only his mental strength had been stronger, even if just by a little bit.