Drabble: Round #b2 - Prompt: Pending
Title: The Last Win He’d Ever Lose
Rating: PG
Characters: Ogata
Summary: It was in that instant that all the triumph from their last 10-dan game vanished, like Touya-sensei’s commanding presence ahead of him on the eternal road, and all Ogata could see was his own potential.
WordCount: 250 exact :x
Once in the car, Ogata rolled down the window and reached for his lighter. His hands were not shaking, but beads of sweat had formed at his brow and were slowly curling down the angle of his cheek.
Touya Kouyo was retiring. Unbelievable.
The triumph from their final 10-dan game had left him in that one instant.
Yesterday, a new Touya-meijin had awakened, had come forth to match Ogata’s Go. Today, he was disappearing from the pro world, just as Ogata had finally reached him.
Ogata let out a long, slow exhale, resting his head against the back of the seat. He’d heard Akira-kun speak of Shindou’s go as if it were a phantom, inconceivable and untouchable. Shindou had made Akira-kun run and fail like no one else could, and while Ogata had found a flustered Akira-kun endlessly amusing at the time, he now questioned (with Touya-sensei’s back fading into the distance ahead) if they were all that dissimilar in the end.
At least Ogata was safe in the knowledge that, officially, he was the last to ever defeat Touya Kouyo.
Unbidden, the thought of Touya-sensei establishing a tradition he was expected to follow came to mind. Ogata scoffed and smothered his cigarette in the ashtray.
Even after a thousand years, he’d never let Akira-kun win.
Shifting the car into drive, the always confident and peerless Ogata pulled into the passing lane and sped down road, flat and clear now that the mountain had cleared itself away.
Rating: PG
Characters: Ogata
Summary: It was in that instant that all the triumph from their last 10-dan game vanished, like Touya-sensei’s commanding presence ahead of him on the eternal road, and all Ogata could see was his own potential.
WordCount: 250 exact :x
Once in the car, Ogata rolled down the window and reached for his lighter. His hands were not shaking, but beads of sweat had formed at his brow and were slowly curling down the angle of his cheek.
Touya Kouyo was retiring. Unbelievable.
The triumph from their final 10-dan game had left him in that one instant.
Yesterday, a new Touya-meijin had awakened, had come forth to match Ogata’s Go. Today, he was disappearing from the pro world, just as Ogata had finally reached him.
Ogata let out a long, slow exhale, resting his head against the back of the seat. He’d heard Akira-kun speak of Shindou’s go as if it were a phantom, inconceivable and untouchable. Shindou had made Akira-kun run and fail like no one else could, and while Ogata had found a flustered Akira-kun endlessly amusing at the time, he now questioned (with Touya-sensei’s back fading into the distance ahead) if they were all that dissimilar in the end.
At least Ogata was safe in the knowledge that, officially, he was the last to ever defeat Touya Kouyo.
Unbidden, the thought of Touya-sensei establishing a tradition he was expected to follow came to mind. Ogata scoffed and smothered his cigarette in the ashtray.
Even after a thousand years, he’d never let Akira-kun win.
Shifting the car into drive, the always confident and peerless Ogata pulled into the passing lane and sped down road, flat and clear now that the mountain had cleared itself away.