Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go belongs to whoever it belongs to.
I will now try 2 explain the fic and not confuse every1 even more than they already r.
Based on anime coz I can't get the manga... *yet* Few months after end of anime series... don't try and decode the exact timing, coz you'll just get confused... @_@ yeah... sth. like that... DO NOT TEL ME THAT THE TIMING'S SCREWED, COZ I FIGURED THAT OUT ALREADY! ... on 2nd thoughts, u can if u want. Told from 1st person p.o.v @ start, then ends w/ 3rd person view. The first person is not an OC, but is 1 of those minor (as in appears 4 half and episode then disappears completely off the face of the universe... wait... the universe doesn't have a face... o well) chars. that appears in 1 of the side stories. I don't like this char. but it was fitting 4 the role.
This fic isn't deep and meaningful... no, more like 'I don't no exactly y I wrote this, but I thought it was a good idea @ the time & now hope it's not 2 terrible'... mayb I wrote it coz I'd just finished watching the series... last last sunday? sth like that. And i'm kinda apalled as 2 how few hikago fics r around on ff.net. So remember, quantity is important 2 sometimes, if just 2 make u feel betta! Pairing will be Akira/Hikaru, coz they r really qt 2gether. Anyway, I'll just stop rambling now and let u read...
**********
Touya Akira had not come to the Wakajishisen.
Touya 3-dan, very soon to be 4-dan, had not come to defend the title he'd held for two years running. He had not shown up. I, Isobe Hideki, who'd had the unbelievably good luck of drawing against him in the first round, was now unable to complete my mission of the last three years: to beat Touya Akira in revenge for the devastating loss he'd handed me that day in his Go Salon.
Why hadn't he come? I walked up and demanded the reason from the organizers, who informed me that he was at the Tokyo Hospital. What problem was there that was so urgent, and who'd he gone to see, that was so important? His father? His mother? Ogata Jyudan, or Ashiwara 3-dan? The reply shocked me: Shindou Hikaru shodan had been involved in a traffic accident.
Why? Immediately, I'd stiffened with surprise, indignation, and anger. Touya Akira had ditched the Wakajishisen because of Shindou? The thought was laughable: Shindou was a mere second year pro, who'd forfeited a dozen matches after his first two wins, one of which was a default win over Touya himself. What was so special about him that Touya would give up the mini- title he'd held for two years running? I myself had hounded the Children's Meijin title until I'd resolved to become an insei and was thus unable to compete in it anymore. I was going to find out, and get an answer from that bastard.
Deciding this, I'd run out of the Ki-in and headed towards the hospital. I ran there, cursing his name the whole way, stopping four times to catch my breath. Once inside the pristinely white building, I charged up the stairs, ignoring the commands and glares of the doctors and nurses. Damn it all... I was going to see Touya Akira and demand a game. After two flights, I'd run out of breath again. It took four minutes to gather myself, and I was off again. This time, I managed three flights before halting again. Finally, I sprinted up the last flight and down the corridor, to room 6-12. Without knocking, I threw open the door and entered.
He was there, looking magazine-perfect as always. Yet I almost didn't recognize him: the Touya Akira in my memory was shorter, younger, and wore grey, while Touya 3-dan practically lived in suits. The Touya before me was taller, older, and wore a simple shirt, jacket, pants, and... runners? I blinked twice, then growled. Evidently he had not heard my forceful entry. A goban was in front of him, covered with black and white goke arranged intricately. He recreated the game from memory; that much hadn't changed. Touya and his goban were in-between the door and the bed laden with a single patient, whose hand he clasped gently with his own.
Looking past my would-be opponent, I see a mess of blonde and black hair that had carefully been swept to the sides: Shindou shodan. Shindou's hand were tightly bandaged; obviously, someone else had brushed his hair away for him. Nurses and doctors wouldn't bother, so who? His mother, or a girlfriend? It looked too awkward to have been his mother, and Shindou-pro didn't have a girlfriend, leaving... Touya?
I blink out of my trance to glare at the green-haired pro. My anger fueled my resolve, so I strode forward. "Touya!"
He whipped his head around instantly. Those deceptively calm eyes widened in surprise -he really hadn't noticed me- then narrowed slightly. He stood gracefully yet quickly; I also noticed that he placed himself between me and Shindou, whilst his hold on the other pro's hand had not been relinquished. I felt strange as those green eyes bore into me in silent calculation, before seeming to pass straight through.
"Can I help you?" The voice was definitely rougher, the tone polite yet defensive towards me. Overall, his voice was still melodic and soft, but carried a half-unsheathed edge. He didn't know who I was -yet- and was unsure whether to draw his blade or lower his guard.
"Touya Akira. I am Isobe Hideki." I stop my sentence there, wincing mentally: it wasn't as forceful as I'd originally intended. My anger hadn't drained away; only the power it had given me was gone, useless before the distant yet courteous force before me. Instead, I waited for acknowledgment.
He blinked four times uncomprehendingly, before raising an eyebrow. Once again, anger swallowed me: he didn't remember me! "Touya Akira! I played you once over three years ago, after I won the Children's Meijin Title. You defeated me easily then, but I've improved! I can beat you now!"
"Children's Meijin Title?" Touya was genuinely confused, before blinking. "Ah... The game the day before I met Shindou."
I was confounded. He spoke as though I wasn't even there, in a tone much softer. He remembered me just because I happened to have faced him the day before he met Shindou. No, he didn't recall the boy who'd so forcefully asked for a game; he probably only remembered a mental kifu of the game.
I was angrier than I'd thought possible.
"I said then that I'd come to beat you, and I say the same today. My goal is still to beat you, Touya Akira, and I will do it! I've waited, become an insei so I can face you, climbed to first class of the insei after two years. Today was the Wakajishisen. I would have faced you in the first round, but you didn't show! I demand to have my revenge!"
"You are ranting. Shizukani kudasai." He was becoming irritated behind the mask; I could no more ignore that then I could the transition from summer to winter. "I am sorry for not allowing you a rematch at the Wakajishisen, but there was no need to barge in here. If you wish to challenge me, you may do so anytime at my father's go salon. I am there almost every afternoon."
"As if I'd go back there after losing so badly," I scoffed, sounding stupid and childish even to my own ears.
"Then I have nothing further to say to you." He turned, sat back down, and continued his recreation.
Kuso, he wasn't going to just ignore me like that. "Face me now then, Touya Akira!" The yell and the sound of my fists slamming the single table inside the room echoed throughout.
Shindou stirred in his sleep, whimpering and clutching his head with his free hand. Jumping up, Touya checked over him carefully. Finally turning after Shindou had settled, he gave me a look, startling a gasp out of me and making me take three steps backwards. The power and cold fury in those eyes scared me, more than any horror movie ever could. I could almost feel the gap between us in terms of strength, and shuddered. Plainly I would be unable to win; the margin had grown infinitely, not shortened. I gulped as those hard sea-green eyes sliced me.
"Will you leave afterwards?"
The opening was there, for me to take if I wished. Instead, I stubbornly clung to the chance I'd just fought for, and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He pulled the goban out a little more, finally letting go of Shindou's hand. Kneeling opposite the side he'd previously been playing at, he motioned for me to sit. I did so shakily, while he placed a handful of white goke for nigiri. I placed a single black goke in reply, uneasily remembering that this was how the previous game had began. This time though, there was no 6th-grader cheerfully telling me that I was to go first. This time, an incensed 16 year old swept up the his seven goke and let them cascade into the container, before awaiting my first move with a hunter's killer patience. That was my feeling. He was the hunter loaded with guns, traps, knives. I was the helpless prey without even legs to run.
I placed the first stone, feeling as though I walked to an execution; my execution. Hoshi, a standard opening move. I had barely moved my hand when a white goke slammed down in a tsuke. I flinched at the harsh sound and aggressive opening move. What had that other guy said to me after the match? I can barely remember, for the shock had been so great... wait... 'Your ideas are too focused on territory. They won't work on Akira.' I could see now: his style was aggressive, and I would have to fight for survival. I place another stone tentatively; in reply, a second white stone falls. I flinch again and place another stone hurriedly.
After ten hands, I felt completely outclassed. Still, I would not let it end. I did not wait and train for so long just to get crushed like this. But... how could I win? Each move he made came straight after mine, without any thinking at all! They were perfectly executed, leaving me no place to defend, let alone counterattack. There was no way I could win, none at all! It was impossible. Touya was unbeatable!
I played mechanically, feeling broken within. Each white hand was another katana thrusting into my already dead corpse, shedding blood that no longer flows. The corpse was already pinned, the spirit had already fled. My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I placed another stone. PA-CHI! His response came. I was almost playing randomly now, just placing the goke anywhere. I couldn't even play normally under his relentless attack.
Finally, I whispered, "M-m-makemas-s-shita," in a voice so clogged with tears I couldn't understand myself.
"Arigatou gozaimashita."
"Ar-rigat-tou go-z-zaim-mashita."
"You shouldn't let Touya intimidate you." I jumped in surprise at the third voice. This voice rasped, though amusement sounded clearly. Grass green eyes were watching the goban intently, though there was a distant feel to his eyes. I gulped; they weren't nearly as intense as Touya's (I pray that I never meet someone with scarier eyes than his), yet they carried their own weight. There was a seriousness in them that none of my previous opponents -except for Touya- possessed, and a calculating shrewdness that made me squirm to think of what he might be planning. Whatever it was, the opponent was in big trouble.
"S-Shindou!" Touya turned to look at his... friend? who supported himself on an elbow to watch the game. The change in address was plain to me, even through my shocked brain. The misty look as the dual-haired youth considered the goban disappeared, before looking up into concerned dark green eyes. How Shindou could withstand such intense eyes will be one mystery I never want to touch. "Daijoubu?"
"Hai, hai! You worry too much. I feel so sore though, and I have a headache... what happened?"
"Your ribs were broken, and you were put under anaesthetic. You weren't supposed to wake for another two hours, though..." A glare that made me cringe was shot at me before he continued. "They had to perform surgery, and there was glass in your hands." Touya shot him a gleeful look, an expression I'd never expected to see on the go prodigy's face. "Too bad they couldn't operate on your brain at the same time."
Shindou spluttered indignantly at the green-haired pro who was smiling happily despite the shout of "Teme!" that now rang through the room. I watched, feeling as though I was an intruder in a very intimate and personal situation. I was still fascinated though.
Shindou finally sighed. "How long?"
"Only... two hours. They gave me a goban to entertain myself with." Two hours? More like six!
Shindou gave him an amused look. "Don't lie, Touya. You aren't good at it." Snickering at Touya's faint blush, before turning back to the goban, looking thoughtful. "If black played a keima there instead of kosumi, you'd be in trouble."
I felt indignant -was I so insignificant that I was merely a colour on a goban?- yet lacked the strength to express my displeasure. The thought of another look from Touya was enough to make me shut up during their discussion.
"I would have played here to counter, and you'd still be forced to resign."
"I wouldn't play so crap in the first place! And a tsuke there would change the game completely."
I winced at that. Shindou-pro was as well known for his tactlessness as his creative and innovative moves.
"Yes, but then..."
They seemed to rebegin the game from the third move, instead of looking at my actual game. It was a whole new game, played by different competitors. Instead of an angry pro and a scared rookie, there were now two level pros playing each other. I could see that they were playing the game in their heads, not materialistically. They were placing goke in the manner they would have, were they facing each other. My mind raced as I tried to keep a mental picture of their game. A difficult task, for their explanations were ofen just a vague wave at the goban, whilst it was hard for me to distinguish where they placed their stones from the ones on the goban. There minds also moved quickly; evidently, the two were familiar enough with each other's styles that they were able to predict many moves and think up suitable counters.
The discussion continued, rebounding from one to another, gaining momentum and volume. I felt out of my league; even though they were becoming angrier, the moves they suggested -or rather hurled at each other- were thought out carefully. They were reading maybe twenty or thirty hands ahead, while I could not see past five. Each move seemed to perfectly counter the previous move, yet better hands were consistently thought up. Was this why they were rumoured to be rivals? The two pros were full out screaming at each other with me cowering in the background, before Shindou shouted "Kaeru!"
He made to stand, but winced and fell back on the bed. Touya was by his side immediately, scolding and helping simultaeneously, while Shindou grumbled.
I decided that this was a good cue for me to leave.
Outside, I run away as fast as possible. It isn't long before I run out of breath, and I stop outside a park. Now I sit on a bench, staring at the fading sun. I've been mentally reviewing the game in my head for the past three hours, and realise that I'd played poorly. Yet this time, there is no incentive to play against Touya again, or even to beat him. Though I know that logically nothing was impossible, I also know that I would never beat Touya Akira.
I will never be able to pick up a goke without seeing those wintry eyes glaring at me with hatred... no, not hatred. I was not worthy of his hatred, only his contempt. I would be forgotten again... there was nothing in that game worthy of him remembering, thus making me valueless as well. This time, I wouldn't be surprised if even a kifu wouldn't be kept stored in his head. Maybe... he would only remember this day because of Shindou. I could never hope to compete for Touya Akira's attention with someone his equal.
I am scared of him. I would be glad if I never saw either of them ever again. Not glad, I mentally correct. Safe. Safe from that beauty that surrounds them when they are together, safe from the pure, blinding light of one and the utter, choking darkness of the other, safe from the unbearable perfection that was them. Black and white, the very foundation of the game. The lines are just guides, showing the blinded the strings that connect the white with the black. Go will only ever be a two person game. It can never be a one person game, nor a three, four, or five person game.
As long as I play with Touya Akira as my target, I will play a one-player game. As long as I play go, I will never forget the awesome power of those two. And as long as I can remember that power, I will be unable to believe that I am the best of my age group. It would all just be a lie, and what point was there in playing if I couldn't be the best? I will just go and be a good son, take over the family business and become a business man and C.E.O. I might play occasionally, against other amateurs or even pros. But I will never challenge Touya Akira or Shindou Hikaru again.
Finally, as night encompasses Tokyo, I stand and leave for the dull world of business and school. The realm of most people, a place... where light and darkness do not clash.
**********
"Who was that?" Shindou asked as soon as he'd stopped coughing. He sat cross-legged on the bed after throwing off the blankets. "Huh? Oh... I forgot," replied Akira absently. He was clearing the goban. "Baka," sighed Shindou, rolling his eyes. Before his rival's customary snap of "I'm not a baka!" he added, "Well whoever it was is gone now. I think you scared him off go for good." "He challenged me," the dark-haired one replied, defensive. "You don't usually play so viciously. Except maybe that game in the Shodan Series against Zama-sensei. But back then, you were trying to prove a point." "..." "Come on Touya. Tell me." "Tell me about Sai then," Akira countered. "No way!" yelped the frustrated Hikaru. "I'll trade you my secret for yours." Would I? "I said someday, and I mean someday!" Hikaru yelled. Inwardly he was curious. Very curious. Touya's secret? He thought Touya held no secrets from him. What... "Tell me!"
"No!" "Yes!" "No!" "Ye-"
Hikaru's yell was cut short when lips caught his softly. They stayed for a breath, not long enough to be too intrusive, yet enough to convey a meaning. His eyes became even wider than normal, and he stared at Akira, who had withdrawn to about two metres away and was blushing profoundly. His hand moved up to his mouth, hoping that the tingling, pleasant feeling would be shared. Even through the bandages, he could feel his nerves fizzing.
"That is my secret. Shindou." Akira didn't meet Hikaru's eyes, and the solemnity of his voice sent shivers down Hikaru's spine. An evil smile spread over his face, as he looked up at the taller boy. He tried to stand, but failed again. Instinctively, Akira went to help him.
Before the other pro could draw away though, Hikaru grabbed his sleeve, and murmured huskily, "Do you want to know my secret?"
Akira had never heard Hikaru use that kind of voice before. "Shindou, what- "
In the same manner as Akira, Hikaru had cut the green-haired pro off. The difference though, was that the shorter boy lingered for longer so they could both get a proper taste of the other.
Drawing away, he smirked at the other's slight whimper for the loss of warmth. "And that, is my secret."
They looked at each other for a long time, neither moving in response to that remark. Never one to wait, Hikaru eventually turned away, grinning at his rival's stunned look. "I won't go easy on you though, A-ki-ra," declared Shindou, sounding out the other's name carefully. "Someday I will catch you!"
"You?" The mocking response didn't lack warmth. "Forget about someday, Hi- ka-ru. What about now?"
"Ohh... how can I resist a challenge like that? Nigiri!"
Akira was white, Hikaru black. Because the injured pro had difficulty moving the goke, Akira offered to do it for him. As he was placing the stones back in their respective containers, Shindou smirked evilly. "Of course, since I told you my secret in exchange for yours, you can't ask about Sai's today."
Dark green eyes widened, then narrowed. "Why you-"
A hand blocked the remaining words. "Shut up baka, and start playing! I will beat you this time though," yelled the shorter teen, laughing, before they began another round of speed go, and another game routine. The screaming, arguing, and yelling would come later. And after that, who knows? They were both content to let things proceed naturally, and to let the little black and white dots on the goban do all the thinking.
I will now try 2 explain the fic and not confuse every1 even more than they already r.
Based on anime coz I can't get the manga... *yet* Few months after end of anime series... don't try and decode the exact timing, coz you'll just get confused... @_@ yeah... sth. like that... DO NOT TEL ME THAT THE TIMING'S SCREWED, COZ I FIGURED THAT OUT ALREADY! ... on 2nd thoughts, u can if u want. Told from 1st person p.o.v @ start, then ends w/ 3rd person view. The first person is not an OC, but is 1 of those minor (as in appears 4 half and episode then disappears completely off the face of the universe... wait... the universe doesn't have a face... o well) chars. that appears in 1 of the side stories. I don't like this char. but it was fitting 4 the role.
This fic isn't deep and meaningful... no, more like 'I don't no exactly y I wrote this, but I thought it was a good idea @ the time & now hope it's not 2 terrible'... mayb I wrote it coz I'd just finished watching the series... last last sunday? sth like that. And i'm kinda apalled as 2 how few hikago fics r around on ff.net. So remember, quantity is important 2 sometimes, if just 2 make u feel betta! Pairing will be Akira/Hikaru, coz they r really qt 2gether. Anyway, I'll just stop rambling now and let u read...
**********
Touya Akira had not come to the Wakajishisen.
Touya 3-dan, very soon to be 4-dan, had not come to defend the title he'd held for two years running. He had not shown up. I, Isobe Hideki, who'd had the unbelievably good luck of drawing against him in the first round, was now unable to complete my mission of the last three years: to beat Touya Akira in revenge for the devastating loss he'd handed me that day in his Go Salon.
Why hadn't he come? I walked up and demanded the reason from the organizers, who informed me that he was at the Tokyo Hospital. What problem was there that was so urgent, and who'd he gone to see, that was so important? His father? His mother? Ogata Jyudan, or Ashiwara 3-dan? The reply shocked me: Shindou Hikaru shodan had been involved in a traffic accident.
Why? Immediately, I'd stiffened with surprise, indignation, and anger. Touya Akira had ditched the Wakajishisen because of Shindou? The thought was laughable: Shindou was a mere second year pro, who'd forfeited a dozen matches after his first two wins, one of which was a default win over Touya himself. What was so special about him that Touya would give up the mini- title he'd held for two years running? I myself had hounded the Children's Meijin title until I'd resolved to become an insei and was thus unable to compete in it anymore. I was going to find out, and get an answer from that bastard.
Deciding this, I'd run out of the Ki-in and headed towards the hospital. I ran there, cursing his name the whole way, stopping four times to catch my breath. Once inside the pristinely white building, I charged up the stairs, ignoring the commands and glares of the doctors and nurses. Damn it all... I was going to see Touya Akira and demand a game. After two flights, I'd run out of breath again. It took four minutes to gather myself, and I was off again. This time, I managed three flights before halting again. Finally, I sprinted up the last flight and down the corridor, to room 6-12. Without knocking, I threw open the door and entered.
He was there, looking magazine-perfect as always. Yet I almost didn't recognize him: the Touya Akira in my memory was shorter, younger, and wore grey, while Touya 3-dan practically lived in suits. The Touya before me was taller, older, and wore a simple shirt, jacket, pants, and... runners? I blinked twice, then growled. Evidently he had not heard my forceful entry. A goban was in front of him, covered with black and white goke arranged intricately. He recreated the game from memory; that much hadn't changed. Touya and his goban were in-between the door and the bed laden with a single patient, whose hand he clasped gently with his own.
Looking past my would-be opponent, I see a mess of blonde and black hair that had carefully been swept to the sides: Shindou shodan. Shindou's hand were tightly bandaged; obviously, someone else had brushed his hair away for him. Nurses and doctors wouldn't bother, so who? His mother, or a girlfriend? It looked too awkward to have been his mother, and Shindou-pro didn't have a girlfriend, leaving... Touya?
I blink out of my trance to glare at the green-haired pro. My anger fueled my resolve, so I strode forward. "Touya!"
He whipped his head around instantly. Those deceptively calm eyes widened in surprise -he really hadn't noticed me- then narrowed slightly. He stood gracefully yet quickly; I also noticed that he placed himself between me and Shindou, whilst his hold on the other pro's hand had not been relinquished. I felt strange as those green eyes bore into me in silent calculation, before seeming to pass straight through.
"Can I help you?" The voice was definitely rougher, the tone polite yet defensive towards me. Overall, his voice was still melodic and soft, but carried a half-unsheathed edge. He didn't know who I was -yet- and was unsure whether to draw his blade or lower his guard.
"Touya Akira. I am Isobe Hideki." I stop my sentence there, wincing mentally: it wasn't as forceful as I'd originally intended. My anger hadn't drained away; only the power it had given me was gone, useless before the distant yet courteous force before me. Instead, I waited for acknowledgment.
He blinked four times uncomprehendingly, before raising an eyebrow. Once again, anger swallowed me: he didn't remember me! "Touya Akira! I played you once over three years ago, after I won the Children's Meijin Title. You defeated me easily then, but I've improved! I can beat you now!"
"Children's Meijin Title?" Touya was genuinely confused, before blinking. "Ah... The game the day before I met Shindou."
I was confounded. He spoke as though I wasn't even there, in a tone much softer. He remembered me just because I happened to have faced him the day before he met Shindou. No, he didn't recall the boy who'd so forcefully asked for a game; he probably only remembered a mental kifu of the game.
I was angrier than I'd thought possible.
"I said then that I'd come to beat you, and I say the same today. My goal is still to beat you, Touya Akira, and I will do it! I've waited, become an insei so I can face you, climbed to first class of the insei after two years. Today was the Wakajishisen. I would have faced you in the first round, but you didn't show! I demand to have my revenge!"
"You are ranting. Shizukani kudasai." He was becoming irritated behind the mask; I could no more ignore that then I could the transition from summer to winter. "I am sorry for not allowing you a rematch at the Wakajishisen, but there was no need to barge in here. If you wish to challenge me, you may do so anytime at my father's go salon. I am there almost every afternoon."
"As if I'd go back there after losing so badly," I scoffed, sounding stupid and childish even to my own ears.
"Then I have nothing further to say to you." He turned, sat back down, and continued his recreation.
Kuso, he wasn't going to just ignore me like that. "Face me now then, Touya Akira!" The yell and the sound of my fists slamming the single table inside the room echoed throughout.
Shindou stirred in his sleep, whimpering and clutching his head with his free hand. Jumping up, Touya checked over him carefully. Finally turning after Shindou had settled, he gave me a look, startling a gasp out of me and making me take three steps backwards. The power and cold fury in those eyes scared me, more than any horror movie ever could. I could almost feel the gap between us in terms of strength, and shuddered. Plainly I would be unable to win; the margin had grown infinitely, not shortened. I gulped as those hard sea-green eyes sliced me.
"Will you leave afterwards?"
The opening was there, for me to take if I wished. Instead, I stubbornly clung to the chance I'd just fought for, and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He pulled the goban out a little more, finally letting go of Shindou's hand. Kneeling opposite the side he'd previously been playing at, he motioned for me to sit. I did so shakily, while he placed a handful of white goke for nigiri. I placed a single black goke in reply, uneasily remembering that this was how the previous game had began. This time though, there was no 6th-grader cheerfully telling me that I was to go first. This time, an incensed 16 year old swept up the his seven goke and let them cascade into the container, before awaiting my first move with a hunter's killer patience. That was my feeling. He was the hunter loaded with guns, traps, knives. I was the helpless prey without even legs to run.
I placed the first stone, feeling as though I walked to an execution; my execution. Hoshi, a standard opening move. I had barely moved my hand when a white goke slammed down in a tsuke. I flinched at the harsh sound and aggressive opening move. What had that other guy said to me after the match? I can barely remember, for the shock had been so great... wait... 'Your ideas are too focused on territory. They won't work on Akira.' I could see now: his style was aggressive, and I would have to fight for survival. I place another stone tentatively; in reply, a second white stone falls. I flinch again and place another stone hurriedly.
After ten hands, I felt completely outclassed. Still, I would not let it end. I did not wait and train for so long just to get crushed like this. But... how could I win? Each move he made came straight after mine, without any thinking at all! They were perfectly executed, leaving me no place to defend, let alone counterattack. There was no way I could win, none at all! It was impossible. Touya was unbeatable!
I played mechanically, feeling broken within. Each white hand was another katana thrusting into my already dead corpse, shedding blood that no longer flows. The corpse was already pinned, the spirit had already fled. My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I placed another stone. PA-CHI! His response came. I was almost playing randomly now, just placing the goke anywhere. I couldn't even play normally under his relentless attack.
Finally, I whispered, "M-m-makemas-s-shita," in a voice so clogged with tears I couldn't understand myself.
"Arigatou gozaimashita."
"Ar-rigat-tou go-z-zaim-mashita."
"You shouldn't let Touya intimidate you." I jumped in surprise at the third voice. This voice rasped, though amusement sounded clearly. Grass green eyes were watching the goban intently, though there was a distant feel to his eyes. I gulped; they weren't nearly as intense as Touya's (I pray that I never meet someone with scarier eyes than his), yet they carried their own weight. There was a seriousness in them that none of my previous opponents -except for Touya- possessed, and a calculating shrewdness that made me squirm to think of what he might be planning. Whatever it was, the opponent was in big trouble.
"S-Shindou!" Touya turned to look at his... friend? who supported himself on an elbow to watch the game. The change in address was plain to me, even through my shocked brain. The misty look as the dual-haired youth considered the goban disappeared, before looking up into concerned dark green eyes. How Shindou could withstand such intense eyes will be one mystery I never want to touch. "Daijoubu?"
"Hai, hai! You worry too much. I feel so sore though, and I have a headache... what happened?"
"Your ribs were broken, and you were put under anaesthetic. You weren't supposed to wake for another two hours, though..." A glare that made me cringe was shot at me before he continued. "They had to perform surgery, and there was glass in your hands." Touya shot him a gleeful look, an expression I'd never expected to see on the go prodigy's face. "Too bad they couldn't operate on your brain at the same time."
Shindou spluttered indignantly at the green-haired pro who was smiling happily despite the shout of "Teme!" that now rang through the room. I watched, feeling as though I was an intruder in a very intimate and personal situation. I was still fascinated though.
Shindou finally sighed. "How long?"
"Only... two hours. They gave me a goban to entertain myself with." Two hours? More like six!
Shindou gave him an amused look. "Don't lie, Touya. You aren't good at it." Snickering at Touya's faint blush, before turning back to the goban, looking thoughtful. "If black played a keima there instead of kosumi, you'd be in trouble."
I felt indignant -was I so insignificant that I was merely a colour on a goban?- yet lacked the strength to express my displeasure. The thought of another look from Touya was enough to make me shut up during their discussion.
"I would have played here to counter, and you'd still be forced to resign."
"I wouldn't play so crap in the first place! And a tsuke there would change the game completely."
I winced at that. Shindou-pro was as well known for his tactlessness as his creative and innovative moves.
"Yes, but then..."
They seemed to rebegin the game from the third move, instead of looking at my actual game. It was a whole new game, played by different competitors. Instead of an angry pro and a scared rookie, there were now two level pros playing each other. I could see that they were playing the game in their heads, not materialistically. They were placing goke in the manner they would have, were they facing each other. My mind raced as I tried to keep a mental picture of their game. A difficult task, for their explanations were ofen just a vague wave at the goban, whilst it was hard for me to distinguish where they placed their stones from the ones on the goban. There minds also moved quickly; evidently, the two were familiar enough with each other's styles that they were able to predict many moves and think up suitable counters.
The discussion continued, rebounding from one to another, gaining momentum and volume. I felt out of my league; even though they were becoming angrier, the moves they suggested -or rather hurled at each other- were thought out carefully. They were reading maybe twenty or thirty hands ahead, while I could not see past five. Each move seemed to perfectly counter the previous move, yet better hands were consistently thought up. Was this why they were rumoured to be rivals? The two pros were full out screaming at each other with me cowering in the background, before Shindou shouted "Kaeru!"
He made to stand, but winced and fell back on the bed. Touya was by his side immediately, scolding and helping simultaeneously, while Shindou grumbled.
I decided that this was a good cue for me to leave.
Outside, I run away as fast as possible. It isn't long before I run out of breath, and I stop outside a park. Now I sit on a bench, staring at the fading sun. I've been mentally reviewing the game in my head for the past three hours, and realise that I'd played poorly. Yet this time, there is no incentive to play against Touya again, or even to beat him. Though I know that logically nothing was impossible, I also know that I would never beat Touya Akira.
I will never be able to pick up a goke without seeing those wintry eyes glaring at me with hatred... no, not hatred. I was not worthy of his hatred, only his contempt. I would be forgotten again... there was nothing in that game worthy of him remembering, thus making me valueless as well. This time, I wouldn't be surprised if even a kifu wouldn't be kept stored in his head. Maybe... he would only remember this day because of Shindou. I could never hope to compete for Touya Akira's attention with someone his equal.
I am scared of him. I would be glad if I never saw either of them ever again. Not glad, I mentally correct. Safe. Safe from that beauty that surrounds them when they are together, safe from the pure, blinding light of one and the utter, choking darkness of the other, safe from the unbearable perfection that was them. Black and white, the very foundation of the game. The lines are just guides, showing the blinded the strings that connect the white with the black. Go will only ever be a two person game. It can never be a one person game, nor a three, four, or five person game.
As long as I play with Touya Akira as my target, I will play a one-player game. As long as I play go, I will never forget the awesome power of those two. And as long as I can remember that power, I will be unable to believe that I am the best of my age group. It would all just be a lie, and what point was there in playing if I couldn't be the best? I will just go and be a good son, take over the family business and become a business man and C.E.O. I might play occasionally, against other amateurs or even pros. But I will never challenge Touya Akira or Shindou Hikaru again.
Finally, as night encompasses Tokyo, I stand and leave for the dull world of business and school. The realm of most people, a place... where light and darkness do not clash.
**********
"Who was that?" Shindou asked as soon as he'd stopped coughing. He sat cross-legged on the bed after throwing off the blankets. "Huh? Oh... I forgot," replied Akira absently. He was clearing the goban. "Baka," sighed Shindou, rolling his eyes. Before his rival's customary snap of "I'm not a baka!" he added, "Well whoever it was is gone now. I think you scared him off go for good." "He challenged me," the dark-haired one replied, defensive. "You don't usually play so viciously. Except maybe that game in the Shodan Series against Zama-sensei. But back then, you were trying to prove a point." "..." "Come on Touya. Tell me." "Tell me about Sai then," Akira countered. "No way!" yelped the frustrated Hikaru. "I'll trade you my secret for yours." Would I? "I said someday, and I mean someday!" Hikaru yelled. Inwardly he was curious. Very curious. Touya's secret? He thought Touya held no secrets from him. What... "Tell me!"
"No!" "Yes!" "No!" "Ye-"
Hikaru's yell was cut short when lips caught his softly. They stayed for a breath, not long enough to be too intrusive, yet enough to convey a meaning. His eyes became even wider than normal, and he stared at Akira, who had withdrawn to about two metres away and was blushing profoundly. His hand moved up to his mouth, hoping that the tingling, pleasant feeling would be shared. Even through the bandages, he could feel his nerves fizzing.
"That is my secret. Shindou." Akira didn't meet Hikaru's eyes, and the solemnity of his voice sent shivers down Hikaru's spine. An evil smile spread over his face, as he looked up at the taller boy. He tried to stand, but failed again. Instinctively, Akira went to help him.
Before the other pro could draw away though, Hikaru grabbed his sleeve, and murmured huskily, "Do you want to know my secret?"
Akira had never heard Hikaru use that kind of voice before. "Shindou, what- "
In the same manner as Akira, Hikaru had cut the green-haired pro off. The difference though, was that the shorter boy lingered for longer so they could both get a proper taste of the other.
Drawing away, he smirked at the other's slight whimper for the loss of warmth. "And that, is my secret."
They looked at each other for a long time, neither moving in response to that remark. Never one to wait, Hikaru eventually turned away, grinning at his rival's stunned look. "I won't go easy on you though, A-ki-ra," declared Shindou, sounding out the other's name carefully. "Someday I will catch you!"
"You?" The mocking response didn't lack warmth. "Forget about someday, Hi- ka-ru. What about now?"
"Ohh... how can I resist a challenge like that? Nigiri!"
Akira was white, Hikaru black. Because the injured pro had difficulty moving the goke, Akira offered to do it for him. As he was placing the stones back in their respective containers, Shindou smirked evilly. "Of course, since I told you my secret in exchange for yours, you can't ask about Sai's today."
Dark green eyes widened, then narrowed. "Why you-"
A hand blocked the remaining words. "Shut up baka, and start playing! I will beat you this time though," yelled the shorter teen, laughing, before they began another round of speed go, and another game routine. The screaming, arguing, and yelling would come later. And after that, who knows? They were both content to let things proceed naturally, and to let the little black and white dots on the goban do all the thinking.