Hikaru placed another smooth black stone on the Go board. Pa-chi. His opponent stared at the move, stunned. Wasn't this teenager with the bleached hair supposed to be a pro, 6-Dan no less? If so, then why had he made such an obvious mistake?
Hikaru smiled, watching the confusion and disbelief flash across his 3-Dan opponent's face. Trembling, the less experienced pro grabbed a white stone and set it on the board. Hikaru smirked. This game was his. Pa-chi. Another black stone surfaced to slowly close the intricate trap around the unsuspecting pieces.
It took three more turns for White to finally see the web woven around him, and to realize that stones he had earlier thought to be useless were in fact the stepping stones for Hikaru's complex plan to work. The 3-Dan lowered his face, biting back the knot forming in his throat. What a cruel way of playing. Making your opponent think they've won by purposely tripping up, then using the momentum from your fall to smash the other down to the ground. "I have nothing," he whispered, voice trembling slightly. Hikaru grinned. "Thanks for the game! You played really well!" he complimented the younger boy, who lifted his head slightly and smiled. Hikaru then proceeded to point out the crucial moments in the duel, the moves that the outcome hinged on. The other boy nodded sadly, the disappointment of losing making it hard to swallow. "Don't worry about losing once in a while," Hikaru comforted him, grinning. "Everyone loses sometimes. I mean, I'm the perfect example of that: every single time I see Touya Akira, we play, and every single time I lose. Winning and losing are just as natural as inhaling and exhaling." The other boy smiled. "I guess..."
A few hours later, Hikaru walked into the Go salon he frequented. The lady at the front looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled. "Go on in; Akira is waiting for you at the back." He grinned at her and rushed by. When he reached the table Akira was sitting at, he glanced the serious black (with turquoise highlights)-haired 8-Dan pro a question. Akira nodded, and without any more ceremony Hikaru plopped onto the chair facing his friend. "I won today against that 3-Dan you were talking about the other day," he said, unable to stay quiet and motionless for very long. Already he was twitching, fingers drumming on the table, foot tapping on the floor and other hand taking out a handful of stones. "I know," Akira replied, setting one Go piece on the table. Hikaru uncovered his pile: he had twelve of them. "Black's mine," he said happily, now twiddling with his ever-present fan. Akira reached out and took the White bowl.
It was an exciting game, as usual; as usual, they did not speak but the resounding clacks as the stone hit the board were enough for a conversation; as usual, Akira won and it annoyed Hikaru. "Another," he demanded. Akira nodded. This time, Hikaru was White and Akira Black. The score was closer: Akira won by a half moku. Hikaru scowled. "I'll definitely win against you some day," he assured his rival. Akira smiled. "And when will that be?" he teased, eyes laughing. Hikaru grimaced. "Another," he challenged, hiding a pile of stones under his hands. He got Black. Akira took White.
The sound of stones rang out, slow but furious, both feeling the need to win inflaming their game. It was long and raging, no words needed, as they attacked, defended, countered. The movements of their stones, the endless shapes rippling and changing, belied their passion for this game. The game that tied them together now, and would keep them together later. As rivals. Forever. Chasing each other, an endless game of Tag, the person in front the mouse and the one behind the cat. Until one caught the other and they paused. Once. A skip in the beat of things. Just like now. Because this time, Hikaru had won. For the first time. He had won against Akira. The cat had finally barely grazed the mouse's skin. But he had won.
Hikaru stared at the game, incredulous. Slowly, reality sank in and he realized he'd finally done it; he had beaten his rival. Akira looked at the game, realizing now, as he had not before, how intricate and deep Hikaru's trap had expanded; how innocently lethal the bait had been. But it was too late. Hikaru had won by one and a half moku. The victor gave a cry of delight. "I did it I did it I did it!" he shouted, pure joy suffusing his features. Akira wasn't sure how to react, or even what he himself felt. Joy, that Hikaru had surpassed him; sadness, for the exact same reason; annoyance, because he'd not been able to fully read the game; and also, somehow, eagerness. He wanted to see how far Hikaru could go in the infinite universe that was Go.
The blond and black-haired teenager's euphoria slowly drained away as he turned to face his rival's confused but impassive visage. "Congratulations," Akira complimented, smiling sincerely. Hikaru sobered immediately. "Well played," he grinned. But he couldn't stay calm for very long. "I won! Me! I finally won against you! Me, not Sai-" He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth and turned red, his blushing face making it impossible for Akira to not catch the name. "Sai?" he questioned in a clipped tone, staring at Hikaru with an expression that was quickly becoming ice cold. "Umm-I mean-that's-well," he stuttered. He stayed silent for a few minutes, Akira's eyes burning into him. He came to the decision that he would tell Akira. After all, he'd finally beaten his rival. "Sai is-I mean, Sai was-well, how to say it- he was a ghost. Fugiwara no Sai. He revealed himself to me when I was twelve and had not yet discovered Go." Hikaru's words gained more and more confidence as he spoke, starting to flow more smoothly. "He was in an old goban of my grandfather's. He'd possessed Honinbo Shusaku before and now decided to possess me. He was the person you first played. But after a while, I, too, became fascinated by Go. I wanted to play more and wouldn't let him play. We'd play at night, of course, when I got my own goban, and it's thanks to him that I have gotten so strong. Because he wanted to play but I didn't want him to play through me and be too strong, so we started to play through Netgo. Sai," he said, voice bitter and eyes losing focus on the present, "Was his username. I think you remember. And then..." Hikaru's voice trailed off choked by emotion. He stayed silent for a moment before resuming: "He disappeared. I should have seen it coming. After the fight with Toya Meijin, he was getting more distant, less focused. He still loved Go but I didn't let him play as much. And he disappeared. Right in the middle of a game against me, he was suddenly gone." Tears formed in his eyes. Akira looked up at him, indecisive. "I... didn't know. I'm... Sorry." He quickly turned his head away. For lack of anything better to do, he started putting away the stones. At least this activity let him think, let him make some sense out of the turmoil in his mind. Ghosts? How could that even be possible? From an early age, everyone is taught that magic does not exist, and yet... It just made so much sense. It explained Hikaru's prowess despite his obvious inexperience, his meteoric rise in the Go world, and that brief period in which he had completely disappeared. It explained the vestiges of the computer player Sai's moves in his play, it explained why a person on Netgo could have been so strong, it explained everything, as long as you ignored it's fundamental base: that ghosts exist. But Akira was ready to believe. He'd waited so long for an answer, so when he got one, he accepted it as fact. He smiled and looked at his friend. Hikaru wiped off the salty liquid flowing down his cheeks and joined him. "Let's play," he said, voice slightly muffled. "Of course." A Black stone was placed on the goban. Just like so many years ago. In memory of Sai.
