Hikago: Left Over
Title: Left Over
Fandom: Hikaru No Go
Rating: G with some swearing by Oochi AKA: The Mushroom Head
Timeline: After the Hokuto cup
Summary: Erm. Coming home from a tournament, Oochi gets trapped on a bus with Hikaru and Akira. He's not exactly happy about it. XD
Plead for help: Remember how I said life was chomping me in the bum? And that as a result, my fiction is getting a bit well ... yeah.
I'm not exactly pleased with this fic, but Imbrium says that I should get a wider opinion. It's not exactly FFNET posting level, but I thought you guys might be able to give me a few pointers into how to make it better.
For the record, I didn't even want to write this one ... I was actually writing something else (and much better) when I got this image in my head that wouldn't go away. It's not quite up there with the erm ... quality(?) of my other fics.
For the record, I was all about shoving it back into the HD and not letting it out again. But Imbrium said that it's good for me to learn to share, so yeah ...
Igo is a game for two people; even those who do not play the game know that much.
Thus Oochi Kousuke finds it odd that most Igo team matches require three players to participate.
And now, given his current situation, he is beginning to think that people really disregard how hard it is to be that third board. I used to think that the first board was the hardest. But no one ever really considers what it's like to be the leftovers. And not only the leftovers ... the leftovers of a leftover.
It worse because he's not only the third board, but he's the alternate third board. Thus, it's not exactly the team that people had wanted to see in the tournament.
Well, too bad for them. They should blame Yashiro's grandfather for having the nerve to die right before the big match. Kousuke scowls.
Besides, alternate player or not, I won. I held up my part, so no one can complain. No one should complain. And Yashiro is delusional if he thinks that he was the one who attracted the crowds at Team Nippon's last match.
He's been quietly watching the two of them as they sit together on the bus. To be honest though, even if he had been blaring an air horn and doing the four-step cha-cha, his teammates still wouldn't have noticed.
"Drop it already, Touya! I said I was sorry. I just forgot!"
"How could you forget?! Now I know why you let Takamine's last hand slip by you. You must've forgotten you were playing a game!"
"Jeeeeeez, I get the point already. Next time, I won't leave it in my other pants!"
Given any other circumstances, two teenaged boys talking about hands and pants would have certainly raised more than a few eyebrows. By now, though, the other passengers know for certain that the item left in Shindo's 'other pants' is a portable magnetic goban and that the "hands" belong on a goban. It's a long trip back from the Mochinoki Cup, and they have been riding for a good half hour already.
By the time we actually reach Tokyo, everyone on the bus will be able to write a scathing expose on the passions and insanities of certain Igo players. I wonder if Go Weekly will publish it; I can see it now. Shindo and Touya : When Igo Players Attack! Kousuke rolls his eyes.
Kurata-sensei should've known better than to let them sit together, he thinks sourly. Unfortunately, their team manager is currently napping in the seat behind him. The sheer force of his snoring rumbles through the thick padding of Kousuke's seat cushion.
"Look, I've already said it fifty bajillion times already! It's not like I did it on purpose ... What, do you THINK I want to spend the next two hours back to Tokyo listening to you whine at me? Can't you just go read a kifu or whatever you do when you can't play Igo?"
"I didn't bring any kifu because you promised to bring that goban! It's JUST like you to be so irresponsible," Touya continues ranting. "If I had won by only a two moku margin, I would've made SURE I packed a goban so we could practice."
"Oh, we're back to that again! Besides, you only won by two and a half moku, without komi. And hey ... why DON'T you carry around a portable goban? Oh that's right ... I forgot ... no one is CRAZY enough to want to play you outside a match!" Shindo crosses his arms, glaring.
"Fine, then that makes you crazy, doesn't it ?!" Touya glares back.
"And I'll have company in my padded room. That is, if the stupidity patrol doesn't lock you up first for being so stupid and ... umm ... dumb. And repetitive. Jeez."
"Stupidity patrol?! Did it take you all day to think of that insult, Shindo? I guess Igo's not the only thing you're losing territory in."
"Hey, at least I have territory to lose. If your wit was an Igo game, it wouldn't even fill a nine by nine board!"
Kousuke hunches lower in his seat. The aisle between them hardly feels like enough distance. It's mortifying.
Great. And now they're back to Igo insults. This means they'll move onto insulting each other's clothes next, then move on to playing styles, then it'll go back to Shindo forgetting that damn portable goban. If you ask me, both of them are rather pathetic in the wit department.
But oh yeah .... that's right ... no one ever asks me.
He expects this sort of behaviour from Shindo Hikaru. But Touya-sen ... Kousuke clenches his teeth. Even now, even in his own thoughts, he has problems with not adding the honorific.
I don't know why I'm so surprised at their antics. He has heard the shouting matches before. He has seen one or two of the infamous fight-and-chase scenes.
And he knows that, despite all the hassle, Touya really does consider Shindo to be his equal.
But why must he stoop to Shindo's level?! Kousuke sighs. Shouldn't he pull Shindo up to his level?!
One would think that would be the case.
"Uggh! Shindo, you just ... just ... SUCK!" Touya splutters.
Or not. Feh! It's so completely and utterly mortifying! And to think I once called him sensei! Kousuke tightens his fingers into a fist. That I once wanted him to be my rival. That ... that ...
I'd lose to either one of them, even on my best day.
"Well, you suck more!"
"No, you do!"
"No, you do!"
"I didn't win by only two and a half moku!"
"Oh, so we're back to that again?!"
Kousuke cannot sink any lower in his seat. Behind his head, Kurata's snores grow in volume. This is Hell. This is an utter and complete Hell on Earth. I bet Yashiro's grandfather didn't die ... Yashiro must've lied ... or better yet, he's actually murdered his grandfather to get away from this.
They're both so undignified! I can't believe I have to be third board to them! Kousuke pushes his glasses up primly.
"Hell, if you were a really good player, you wouldn't NEED to rely on me to bring a goban for a smackdown"
"Very well then. 16-4."
"Ha! You think you can take me on without a goban?! Okay, BRING IT! 16-16!"
"4-3."
"3-5!"
Kousuke sits up at the abrupt turn in Shindo and Touya's conversation. They aren't going to try to ... they are. They're going to try to play, even without a goban, even without any stakes, just because ...
"3-9."
"8-4!"
It's who they are. Feh. I wonder if they know how stupid it makes them both look. He narrows his eyes as the moves progress. His fingers twitch, and he curls them tightly into his palm. Behind him, the snoring has stopped completely.
That bastard! He was pretending the entire time!
The first moves are easy to follow; even a rookie can picture them. Territories take shape as each player takes measure of his opponent. Sometimes, if both players are beginners or are wary of one another, this can be a slow stage, full of false starts and hesitant approaches.
Touya and Shindo have played each other far too many times to take long in the opening sequence; their words nearly mesh, one on top of the other, in a blur of numbers and figures. Before even a mile has passed under the bus wheels, they have established their tentative territories and look to cross into each others.
Shindo and Touya's voices drop to a hush and their words lose the half-mocking, half-bantering tone that marked their earlier squabbling. What began as a simple bickering has moved into something far deeper.
Kousuke's fingers twitch again and it takes all of his willpower not to give in and tap out the moves on the seat in front of him. He doesn't want to further annoy the little old housewife sitting in the seat in front of him; she has huffed and "tsk-ed" disapprovingly throughout the entire Shindo-Touya argument. Tapping on her seat would probably incite her to riot. And in case Shindo or Touya happened to look over, he didn't want them to see ...
Besides, the fact that Kurata-sensei is currently tapping out the moves on the back of Kousuke's seat is annoying enough. The rest of the passengers also seem relieved that the two pros have finally stopped their raucous sniping.
Kousuke shakes his head. But what would they know? They're obviously ignorant of Igo. There is more passion between the two now than in any of their heated words before. It's a real battle, he thinks. One with more intensity. More challenge.
"2-2."
"1-2!"
More trust, with each player knowing that the other will remember each the placement of each piece on the board, that the other will consider the meaning behind each move ... and that the other will follow. Always.
Fifty moves in, Shindo closes his eyes. At fifty five, Touya does the same. Without their gazes locked, it's almost as if they aren't even talking to one another.
And then it happens.
Kousuke's attention flickers for just the briefest moment ... and they have gone on without him.
He could still construct possible moves from the ones he hears now. He could conjecture at what the missing gap could've been. But he would never really know, not for certain.
Kousuke can only guess at where they're going from where he has been left behind
The late afternoon sun dyes the interior of the bus red and gold; most of the other passengers have pulled down their shades. With their eyes still shut, neither Shindo nor Touya seems to notice.
About three fourths of the way into what Kousuke thinks is endgame, the tapping on the seat behind him stops.
They have lost Kurata-sensei.
Touya and Shindo continue to whisper moves in a game only they can see. The bus is also nearing its destination; if Touya and Shindo do not finish within the next ten minutes, they will be forced to carry out their game over dinner.
Kousuke finds he is not hungry anymore.
"14-18."
"10-18."
Suddenly, as if in response to a silent, unseen signal, both Shindo and Touya lean back on their seats. Their eyes are still closed; it almost looked like both of them had fallen asleep simultaneously, mid-conversation.
But who won? Who lost?
I will not ask. I will not ask. He thinks fiercely. I may not be in their league, but I still have my pride. However, if there is a heaven up there, let them start bickering again. Even if it's about idiotic Igo moves or how stupid Shindo thinks Touya's fashion sense is ... please let them say something.
I'll know then. Right?
Neither Touya nor Shindo's expressions give him any clue as to who was the victor. The seat behind him squeaks as Kurata-sensei shifts his weight forward.
Please let him open his big fat mouth and ask. I want to know. I have to know. Shindo couldn't have won, could he? He can't have gotten that strong. Or Touya-sensei .... Touya couldn't have ... if I know who won, I might be able to reconstruct the game. I might be able to understand.
Just how much higher do I have to go?
Funny, how he had spent the entire weekend in a tournament with the other two players, spent an all day (and all night) practice session with them ... or even how he had spent years of both his insei and pro life watching them, yet ...
It's like I never really watched them play.
But despite his wishes, Kurata-sensei remains silent as well. As the long seconds pass, Kousuke finally lets out a long breath. He unclenches his aching fingers, suddenly aware that he has kept his fists balled for the entire game. They lay still on his lap, without a single twitch. He still doesn't know who has won. At this point, he's not even sure if it matters. But he feels as if he is the one who's lost.
"Oy, Touya," Shindo has finally cracked open one eye. "If you're such an Igo genius, why didn't you think of a boardless game before? Instead of ragging on me for a bajillion hours for not bringing mine!"
"I didn't think you could follow me." Touya opens his eyes as well, but his words hold no real sting. Shindo tilts his head for a moment.
"Well I did, didn't I? And I'll do it again." A half smile crinkles up the corner of Shindo's face. "Good game."
"Yes. It was a good game." Touya replies.
But who won?! Or at the very least, could you discuss the game so I can have a chance of following as well?! You spent so much time yelling and dissecting each others game from the tournament ... why not now?!
It seems that the both of them feel as if whatever happened in the game needs no discussion between them. Kousuke wants to scream. But even as the bus slides to a halt and the doors open with a whoosh, he is reminded, yet again, of the first rule of Igo.
Igo is a game of two people. No more. No less. Even people who cannot grasp the game can grasp that much.
As both Shindo and Touya rise, he quickly pushes past them.
"By the way, you BOTH suck at insults!" he mutters.
He continues onward, bumping past the annoyed old housewife to the cool night air beyond the bus. I may never reach their level. I may never be able to know someone's playing style so thoroughly that I don't need a board, don't need to win nor lose ... don't need anything but the other person's presence for a game. But that doesn't mean I have to be the leftover board forever. I won't be anyone's leftovers again. And I will not be left behind.
He wonders how much time should pass, exactly, before it's polite to call someone after a funeral.
It's time to make his own game.
-end?
------
For the record, just in case anyone asks, yeah, the game in the story is based on an actual Shuusaku game ... more specifically Shuusaku vs. Ota Yuzo, December 5, 1853 . It's the famous tie match, one of the rare few that Shuusaku, playing with black, was tied by Ota Yuzo. So to answer Oochi's question, neither of them won (which is probably why both were so satisfied with that game ... and weren't nitpicking with each other afterwards. XD
But with today's Komi ... yes, Hikaru would've won. But I think a tie game fits better. Yes, I am a dork for looking up this game.
It's just a bit of leftover research from the massive push I did for ITFOTN ... I was actually considering using this game as the "tie" endgame (which Hikaru eventually breaks) but changed my mind at the last moment. Well, at least it got some use here.
I also was thiiiiiiis close to writing a Shuusaku Honinbo AU fic (with Hikaru and Akira in there somehow) which would have Ota Yuzo in it ... since Ota was considered, at one point, to be a rival for Shuusaku Honinbo.
Plus, he seems like a rather ... interesting ... character. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the SECOND Igo Bishie EVER (after Sai of course):
From Mindzine (who is quoting Zain Danzo) :
"Yuzo was a handsome fellow: white of face, with vermilion lips and magnificent eyebrows cradling limpid eyes. His jet black hair was tied up into a luxurious topknot. He saw himself as the epitome of elegance. But once he reached the rank of 7-dan, a strange story unfolded. In ancient times, whenever a member of the Go Families reached 7-dan, they received a stipend from the authorities, and shaved their heads, like a priest. It was thus that they served the shogun in the Castle Games. For the Go Families this was a matter of the greatest honour, and they would vie with each other to achieve it. Yuzo alone could not bear the appearance of a domed pate, and wavered over his promotion to 7-dan. He said: 'I do not desire the Imperial stipend. It is thus possible I cannot serve in the Castle Games. But what I do request is that I be allowed not to shave by head but to become 7-dan.' Yuzo's skill at that time was at least of 7-dan status. He was easily head and shoulders above his rivals. After much deliberation, the Go Academy, esteeming his skill, granted his request and allowed his promotion. Thus it was that Yuzo became 7-dan yet did not serve in Castle Games and did not shave his head. There had never been such a precedent since ancient times."
Sai, move over, you have competition for the girliest Igo player evah! XD
Anyway, for more Ota Yuzo info, give this a click. Maybe you can write that weird pending AU better than me!
To be honest, the research part was the most fun for me (Yeah yeah, I'm still true to my EM roots. XD). I still don't like this fic. It just doesn't have that ... spark.
Imbrium is much nicer ... while she agrees it's not "fanficnet" level of posting, she said you guys might like to take a gander. I am still thinking about submitting it to 31_days though, under the Nov. 29 challenge, so ANY help would be wonderful, just in case I actually decide I'm crazy enough to put it under public scrutiny. (It's weird, but to me, LJ feels less permanent or scary than posting on FFNET ... I think it's because I have an easier time correcting a LJ entry than having to fuss through FFNET. It also has a smaller audience).
Another weird fact is that this IS an AIM fic ... and most of those really just go nowhere. XD I write tons of crap like this all the time ... if anything, you should feel sorry for Imbrium who has to read through them. *G* Eh ... and the weirdest part? I didn't decide that I'd use Oochi until I actually talked to Imbrium. Somehow, the fic turned out to be all about him. Weird how that happens.
Biggest concerns: Is everyone in character? Hikaru and Akira are waaaaay childish in this. And Oochi is ... I dunno.
Does the setting work?
Anyways, I think the part that bothers me most is that I'm not a big fan of Oochi ... I don't hate the Mushroom Head or anything, but the original scene in my head was Hikaru and Akira playing Igo without a board. I don't know how it morphed into this. Anyways, let me know what you think.
Honestly though, thank you for reading through this. <3
much love,
muri
pst: Well, it could be worse. This fic could've been named "Please No Sex for Mushroom Head" ... which is what Imbrium suggested when I did the Ye Olde "WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA NAME IT" rant. (Before, it was named "Oochi Fic Thing" XD I can promise you this much ... it's better than THOSE titles, ne? *snerk*)
Fandom: Hikaru No Go
Rating: G with some swearing by Oochi AKA: The Mushroom Head
Timeline: After the Hokuto cup
Summary: Erm. Coming home from a tournament, Oochi gets trapped on a bus with Hikaru and Akira. He's not exactly happy about it. XD
Plead for help: Remember how I said life was chomping me in the bum? And that as a result, my fiction is getting a bit well ... yeah.
I'm not exactly pleased with this fic, but Imbrium says that I should get a wider opinion. It's not exactly FFNET posting level, but I thought you guys might be able to give me a few pointers into how to make it better.
For the record, I didn't even want to write this one ... I was actually writing something else (and much better) when I got this image in my head that wouldn't go away. It's not quite up there with the erm ... quality(?) of my other fics.
For the record, I was all about shoving it back into the HD and not letting it out again. But Imbrium said that it's good for me to learn to share, so yeah ...
Igo is a game for two people; even those who do not play the game know that much.
Thus Oochi Kousuke finds it odd that most Igo team matches require three players to participate.
And now, given his current situation, he is beginning to think that people really disregard how hard it is to be that third board. I used to think that the first board was the hardest. But no one ever really considers what it's like to be the leftovers. And not only the leftovers ... the leftovers of a leftover.
It worse because he's not only the third board, but he's the alternate third board. Thus, it's not exactly the team that people had wanted to see in the tournament.
Well, too bad for them. They should blame Yashiro's grandfather for having the nerve to die right before the big match. Kousuke scowls.
Besides, alternate player or not, I won. I held up my part, so no one can complain. No one should complain. And Yashiro is delusional if he thinks that he was the one who attracted the crowds at Team Nippon's last match.
He's been quietly watching the two of them as they sit together on the bus. To be honest though, even if he had been blaring an air horn and doing the four-step cha-cha, his teammates still wouldn't have noticed.
"Drop it already, Touya! I said I was sorry. I just forgot!"
"How could you forget?! Now I know why you let Takamine's last hand slip by you. You must've forgotten you were playing a game!"
"Jeeeeeez, I get the point already. Next time, I won't leave it in my other pants!"
Given any other circumstances, two teenaged boys talking about hands and pants would have certainly raised more than a few eyebrows. By now, though, the other passengers know for certain that the item left in Shindo's 'other pants' is a portable magnetic goban and that the "hands" belong on a goban. It's a long trip back from the Mochinoki Cup, and they have been riding for a good half hour already.
By the time we actually reach Tokyo, everyone on the bus will be able to write a scathing expose on the passions and insanities of certain Igo players. I wonder if Go Weekly will publish it; I can see it now. Shindo and Touya : When Igo Players Attack! Kousuke rolls his eyes.
Kurata-sensei should've known better than to let them sit together, he thinks sourly. Unfortunately, their team manager is currently napping in the seat behind him. The sheer force of his snoring rumbles through the thick padding of Kousuke's seat cushion.
"Look, I've already said it fifty bajillion times already! It's not like I did it on purpose ... What, do you THINK I want to spend the next two hours back to Tokyo listening to you whine at me? Can't you just go read a kifu or whatever you do when you can't play Igo?"
"I didn't bring any kifu because you promised to bring that goban! It's JUST like you to be so irresponsible," Touya continues ranting. "If I had won by only a two moku margin, I would've made SURE I packed a goban so we could practice."
"Oh, we're back to that again! Besides, you only won by two and a half moku, without komi. And hey ... why DON'T you carry around a portable goban? Oh that's right ... I forgot ... no one is CRAZY enough to want to play you outside a match!" Shindo crosses his arms, glaring.
"Fine, then that makes you crazy, doesn't it ?!" Touya glares back.
"And I'll have company in my padded room. That is, if the stupidity patrol doesn't lock you up first for being so stupid and ... umm ... dumb. And repetitive. Jeez."
"Stupidity patrol?! Did it take you all day to think of that insult, Shindo? I guess Igo's not the only thing you're losing territory in."
"Hey, at least I have territory to lose. If your wit was an Igo game, it wouldn't even fill a nine by nine board!"
Kousuke hunches lower in his seat. The aisle between them hardly feels like enough distance. It's mortifying.
Great. And now they're back to Igo insults. This means they'll move onto insulting each other's clothes next, then move on to playing styles, then it'll go back to Shindo forgetting that damn portable goban. If you ask me, both of them are rather pathetic in the wit department.
But oh yeah .... that's right ... no one ever asks me.
He expects this sort of behaviour from Shindo Hikaru. But Touya-sen ... Kousuke clenches his teeth. Even now, even in his own thoughts, he has problems with not adding the honorific.
I don't know why I'm so surprised at their antics. He has heard the shouting matches before. He has seen one or two of the infamous fight-and-chase scenes.
And he knows that, despite all the hassle, Touya really does consider Shindo to be his equal.
But why must he stoop to Shindo's level?! Kousuke sighs. Shouldn't he pull Shindo up to his level?!
One would think that would be the case.
"Uggh! Shindo, you just ... just ... SUCK!" Touya splutters.
Or not. Feh! It's so completely and utterly mortifying! And to think I once called him sensei! Kousuke tightens his fingers into a fist. That I once wanted him to be my rival. That ... that ...
I'd lose to either one of them, even on my best day.
"Well, you suck more!"
"No, you do!"
"No, you do!"
"I didn't win by only two and a half moku!"
"Oh, so we're back to that again?!"
Kousuke cannot sink any lower in his seat. Behind his head, Kurata's snores grow in volume. This is Hell. This is an utter and complete Hell on Earth. I bet Yashiro's grandfather didn't die ... Yashiro must've lied ... or better yet, he's actually murdered his grandfather to get away from this.
They're both so undignified! I can't believe I have to be third board to them! Kousuke pushes his glasses up primly.
"Hell, if you were a really good player, you wouldn't NEED to rely on me to bring a goban for a smackdown"
"Very well then. 16-4."
"Ha! You think you can take me on without a goban?! Okay, BRING IT! 16-16!"
"4-3."
"3-5!"
Kousuke sits up at the abrupt turn in Shindo and Touya's conversation. They aren't going to try to ... they are. They're going to try to play, even without a goban, even without any stakes, just because ...
"3-9."
"8-4!"
It's who they are. Feh. I wonder if they know how stupid it makes them both look. He narrows his eyes as the moves progress. His fingers twitch, and he curls them tightly into his palm. Behind him, the snoring has stopped completely.
That bastard! He was pretending the entire time!
The first moves are easy to follow; even a rookie can picture them. Territories take shape as each player takes measure of his opponent. Sometimes, if both players are beginners or are wary of one another, this can be a slow stage, full of false starts and hesitant approaches.
Touya and Shindo have played each other far too many times to take long in the opening sequence; their words nearly mesh, one on top of the other, in a blur of numbers and figures. Before even a mile has passed under the bus wheels, they have established their tentative territories and look to cross into each others.
Shindo and Touya's voices drop to a hush and their words lose the half-mocking, half-bantering tone that marked their earlier squabbling. What began as a simple bickering has moved into something far deeper.
Kousuke's fingers twitch again and it takes all of his willpower not to give in and tap out the moves on the seat in front of him. He doesn't want to further annoy the little old housewife sitting in the seat in front of him; she has huffed and "tsk-ed" disapprovingly throughout the entire Shindo-Touya argument. Tapping on her seat would probably incite her to riot. And in case Shindo or Touya happened to look over, he didn't want them to see ...
Besides, the fact that Kurata-sensei is currently tapping out the moves on the back of Kousuke's seat is annoying enough. The rest of the passengers also seem relieved that the two pros have finally stopped their raucous sniping.
Kousuke shakes his head. But what would they know? They're obviously ignorant of Igo. There is more passion between the two now than in any of their heated words before. It's a real battle, he thinks. One with more intensity. More challenge.
"2-2."
"1-2!"
More trust, with each player knowing that the other will remember each the placement of each piece on the board, that the other will consider the meaning behind each move ... and that the other will follow. Always.
Fifty moves in, Shindo closes his eyes. At fifty five, Touya does the same. Without their gazes locked, it's almost as if they aren't even talking to one another.
And then it happens.
Kousuke's attention flickers for just the briefest moment ... and they have gone on without him.
He could still construct possible moves from the ones he hears now. He could conjecture at what the missing gap could've been. But he would never really know, not for certain.
Kousuke can only guess at where they're going from where he has been left behind
The late afternoon sun dyes the interior of the bus red and gold; most of the other passengers have pulled down their shades. With their eyes still shut, neither Shindo nor Touya seems to notice.
About three fourths of the way into what Kousuke thinks is endgame, the tapping on the seat behind him stops.
They have lost Kurata-sensei.
Touya and Shindo continue to whisper moves in a game only they can see. The bus is also nearing its destination; if Touya and Shindo do not finish within the next ten minutes, they will be forced to carry out their game over dinner.
Kousuke finds he is not hungry anymore.
"14-18."
"10-18."
Suddenly, as if in response to a silent, unseen signal, both Shindo and Touya lean back on their seats. Their eyes are still closed; it almost looked like both of them had fallen asleep simultaneously, mid-conversation.
But who won? Who lost?
I will not ask. I will not ask. He thinks fiercely. I may not be in their league, but I still have my pride. However, if there is a heaven up there, let them start bickering again. Even if it's about idiotic Igo moves or how stupid Shindo thinks Touya's fashion sense is ... please let them say something.
I'll know then. Right?
Neither Touya nor Shindo's expressions give him any clue as to who was the victor. The seat behind him squeaks as Kurata-sensei shifts his weight forward.
Please let him open his big fat mouth and ask. I want to know. I have to know. Shindo couldn't have won, could he? He can't have gotten that strong. Or Touya-sensei .... Touya couldn't have ... if I know who won, I might be able to reconstruct the game. I might be able to understand.
Just how much higher do I have to go?
Funny, how he had spent the entire weekend in a tournament with the other two players, spent an all day (and all night) practice session with them ... or even how he had spent years of both his insei and pro life watching them, yet ...
It's like I never really watched them play.
But despite his wishes, Kurata-sensei remains silent as well. As the long seconds pass, Kousuke finally lets out a long breath. He unclenches his aching fingers, suddenly aware that he has kept his fists balled for the entire game. They lay still on his lap, without a single twitch. He still doesn't know who has won. At this point, he's not even sure if it matters. But he feels as if he is the one who's lost.
"Oy, Touya," Shindo has finally cracked open one eye. "If you're such an Igo genius, why didn't you think of a boardless game before? Instead of ragging on me for a bajillion hours for not bringing mine!"
"I didn't think you could follow me." Touya opens his eyes as well, but his words hold no real sting. Shindo tilts his head for a moment.
"Well I did, didn't I? And I'll do it again." A half smile crinkles up the corner of Shindo's face. "Good game."
"Yes. It was a good game." Touya replies.
But who won?! Or at the very least, could you discuss the game so I can have a chance of following as well?! You spent so much time yelling and dissecting each others game from the tournament ... why not now?!
It seems that the both of them feel as if whatever happened in the game needs no discussion between them. Kousuke wants to scream. But even as the bus slides to a halt and the doors open with a whoosh, he is reminded, yet again, of the first rule of Igo.
Igo is a game of two people. No more. No less. Even people who cannot grasp the game can grasp that much.
As both Shindo and Touya rise, he quickly pushes past them.
"By the way, you BOTH suck at insults!" he mutters.
He continues onward, bumping past the annoyed old housewife to the cool night air beyond the bus. I may never reach their level. I may never be able to know someone's playing style so thoroughly that I don't need a board, don't need to win nor lose ... don't need anything but the other person's presence for a game. But that doesn't mean I have to be the leftover board forever. I won't be anyone's leftovers again. And I will not be left behind.
He wonders how much time should pass, exactly, before it's polite to call someone after a funeral.
It's time to make his own game.
-end?
------
For the record, just in case anyone asks, yeah, the game in the story is based on an actual Shuusaku game ... more specifically Shuusaku vs. Ota Yuzo, December 5, 1853 . It's the famous tie match, one of the rare few that Shuusaku, playing with black, was tied by Ota Yuzo. So to answer Oochi's question, neither of them won (which is probably why both were so satisfied with that game ... and weren't nitpicking with each other afterwards. XD
But with today's Komi ... yes, Hikaru would've won. But I think a tie game fits better. Yes, I am a dork for looking up this game.
It's just a bit of leftover research from the massive push I did for ITFOTN ... I was actually considering using this game as the "tie" endgame (which Hikaru eventually breaks) but changed my mind at the last moment. Well, at least it got some use here.
I also was thiiiiiiis close to writing a Shuusaku Honinbo AU fic (with Hikaru and Akira in there somehow) which would have Ota Yuzo in it ... since Ota was considered, at one point, to be a rival for Shuusaku Honinbo.
Plus, he seems like a rather ... interesting ... character. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the SECOND Igo Bishie EVER (after Sai of course):
From Mindzine (who is quoting Zain Danzo) :
"Yuzo was a handsome fellow: white of face, with vermilion lips and magnificent eyebrows cradling limpid eyes. His jet black hair was tied up into a luxurious topknot. He saw himself as the epitome of elegance. But once he reached the rank of 7-dan, a strange story unfolded. In ancient times, whenever a member of the Go Families reached 7-dan, they received a stipend from the authorities, and shaved their heads, like a priest. It was thus that they served the shogun in the Castle Games. For the Go Families this was a matter of the greatest honour, and they would vie with each other to achieve it. Yuzo alone could not bear the appearance of a domed pate, and wavered over his promotion to 7-dan. He said: 'I do not desire the Imperial stipend. It is thus possible I cannot serve in the Castle Games. But what I do request is that I be allowed not to shave by head but to become 7-dan.' Yuzo's skill at that time was at least of 7-dan status. He was easily head and shoulders above his rivals. After much deliberation, the Go Academy, esteeming his skill, granted his request and allowed his promotion. Thus it was that Yuzo became 7-dan yet did not serve in Castle Games and did not shave his head. There had never been such a precedent since ancient times."
Sai, move over, you have competition for the girliest Igo player evah! XD
Anyway, for more Ota Yuzo info, give this a click. Maybe you can write that weird pending AU better than me!
To be honest, the research part was the most fun for me (Yeah yeah, I'm still true to my EM roots. XD). I still don't like this fic. It just doesn't have that ... spark.
Imbrium is much nicer ... while she agrees it's not "fanficnet" level of posting, she said you guys might like to take a gander. I am still thinking about submitting it to 31_days though, under the Nov. 29 challenge, so ANY help would be wonderful, just in case I actually decide I'm crazy enough to put it under public scrutiny. (It's weird, but to me, LJ feels less permanent or scary than posting on FFNET ... I think it's because I have an easier time correcting a LJ entry than having to fuss through FFNET. It also has a smaller audience).
Another weird fact is that this IS an AIM fic ... and most of those really just go nowhere. XD I write tons of crap like this all the time ... if anything, you should feel sorry for Imbrium who has to read through them. *G* Eh ... and the weirdest part? I didn't decide that I'd use Oochi until I actually talked to Imbrium. Somehow, the fic turned out to be all about him. Weird how that happens.
Biggest concerns: Is everyone in character? Hikaru and Akira are waaaaay childish in this. And Oochi is ... I dunno.
Does the setting work?
Anyways, I think the part that bothers me most is that I'm not a big fan of Oochi ... I don't hate the Mushroom Head or anything, but the original scene in my head was Hikaru and Akira playing Igo without a board. I don't know how it morphed into this. Anyways, let me know what you think.
Honestly though, thank you for reading through this. <3
much love,
muri
pst: Well, it could be worse. This fic could've been named "Please No Sex for Mushroom Head" ... which is what Imbrium suggested when I did the Ye Olde "WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA NAME IT" rant. (Before, it was named "Oochi Fic Thing" XD I can promise you this much ... it's better than THOSE titles, ne? *snerk*)