Title: In the Hall of Kings
Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go and its characters are not mine, and never will be.
Summary:AU. It was said that those who possessed the Hand of God will possess The Land of The Rising Sun. Shindou Hikaru, the chosen one, and Touya Akira, heir to the current king, found themselves in battle against each other for the Hand of God. Fantasy AU.
Prologue: Sai's awakening.
The old prophet had looked into Sai's eyes and told him that he had the spirit of a Wanderer.
"You will die an unfulfilling death," said the raspy voice. "Your spirit will be trapped in the mortal world until you have found your Meaning."
The word of a prophet was something not to be taken lightly, but at the time, Sai was sixteen and death was something at a distance. He was a rising scholar and one of the best Igo players in the land, and he had a bright future as the king's advisor in front of him. The old prophet should be the one who worried about dying, not him. Sai had time to live.
"Your arrogance and your childishness will be your death, boy" was the prophet's last words to Sai.
The prophet died a week later. Sai pitied him, but he could hear the old man's voice echoing in his head, "I'm the one who pities you, boy. Pity you and your future."
Sai didn't pay the voice any mind. Even if the prophet's prediction was true, he could do nothing to change the rushing current of life.
The desert caves let out a grief-stricken wail as the evening wind echoed through their hollowness. Shindo Heihachi tightened his grip on his cloak as he and his brother passed by tall cliffs of dry rocks, the gleaming red under the fading twilight looked like blood. Grandfather told Heihachi that he must never venture into this place, never step a foot in this gap between the world of the Living and the world of the Dead, for the remaining souls who refused to cross the Great River to the Other Side will possess him, or worse, turn him into one of them—neither living nor dead, forever wanderers until God forgave them.
Here, in the Valley of the Kings, all was asleep except for the wind. Heihachi took slow, cautious step, as if afraid that the spirits of the dead kings would spring awake at the sound of his footstep.
"Habu," said Heihachi. "Let's head back. Forget the bet. Ganji doesn't know what he's talking about." When the wind blew, the caves screamed again, drowning out Heihachi's voice. He never felt so small, as if the heavy presence of Death finally made the child aware of his feeble mortality.
"What? Are you scared?" Habu turned back to give him a smirk, and Heihachi crossed his arms.
"I'm not scared."
"Yes you are," said Habu, quickening his pace and glancing back and forth at the high cliffs rising on both sides, as if he could sense the unnerving feeling of the dead as well, but didn't want to lose face in front of his smaller brother. "I told you that you didn't have to come."
"But, but," Heihachi stumbled over a rock, but caught himself in time, "I didn't want you to be alone."
"I could handle everything myself," Habu huffed, a little touched that his little brother cared but a little miffed that the boy thought his older brother needed protection. He sighed with exasperation as Heihachi tripped over another rock, movements jerky and clumsy from fear. Honestly, the one that needed protection was Heihachi, not him.
Habu waited for Heihachi to catch up to his side before continuing on ahead. "Worry about yourself first," Habu slapped a hand on Heihachi's shoulder. "And stand up straight. Whatever is ahead, face it like a man."
Heihachi would point out that he was only thirteen, not yet of age, but he took his brother's words and straightened his back, although fear still managed to bend a slight slouch on his spine. He wished he could be like Habu, older and taller and braver, but at the same time, he was slightly annoyed at Habu. If it wasn't for his sense of honor, they wouldn't be here, but Habu was determined to crush Ganji for insulting their grandfather.
Habu sighed again, but kept close to Heihachi. Heihachi clenched his fists, wanting to tell his brother that he wasn't scared and didn't need protection, but couldn't find the strength to. "Grandfather said we're not supposed to be here," he said spitefully. "You'll be in so much trouble when we get back."
"So will you," Habu pointed out.
Heihachi huffed.
"Don't worry," said Habu. "We'll return immediately once we find The Goban. No one will even notice that we were gone."
Heihachi didn't say anything, but Habu knew that his words were enough to appease Heihachi's anxiety for now, even though Heihachi knew they were not going to return that early and would be scolded for going out alone.
Twilight faded into dusk, and dusk dissolved into night. The Valley of the Kings looked even more intimidating under the moonlight. The cliffs and the caves appeared in darkness as ghastly faces of the dead in silent scream. There was a chill that settled in Heihachi's bone, one that was partially from the cold of the desert, and partially the silence of the valley. He trembled, legs shaking uncontrollably as the body struggled to keep warm.
Suddenly, something heavy fell on his shoulders, and he felt much warmer than before. Heihachi glanced up to find that his brother had lent him his favorite spare cloak, an expensive thing traded from the people in the North, lined on the inside with fur. Habu leaned down and tied the cloak tightly around Heihachi, giving him light pats of reassurance when he was done.
"We'll be fine," said Habu. "I promised."
Heihachi nodded, warmed with his brother's courage. They continued on in the night, silent with hope. Heihachi remembered that his grandfather said that the warm hope of the living drove the dead away and pulled them in at the same time, which didn't make any sense to Heihachi at all, but now, he fervently prayed that the former would happen.
Engrossed in thoughts, Heihachi didn't notice when Habu had stopped until he bumped face first into his brother's back. "What is it?" Heihachi asked.
Habu raised his left hand, indicating that they both needed to be quiet. He then put that hand on the back of his ear, a gesture that Heihachi understood as a command to listen. Heihachi strained his ears, but the only thing that he could hear was the wailing of the wind.
Habu turned to look at Heihachi questioningly, but Heihachi shook his head. Hebu's lips tightened into a line, and Heihachi felt worry straining in his chest. He wondered what his brother had heard, but he didn't want to ask for fear that his voice would stir the silent night into chaos. Heihachi swallowed heavily. Whatever his brother had heard, whatever it was that put a line of cautiousness on his forehead, they needed to keep an ear on. Heihachi tried to control his breathing, trying not to panic at that prospect of facing an invisible enemy.
Habu broke the loud silence. "It's fine. Calm yourself." Heihachi realized that he had stopped breathing at one point. "Breathe," Habu said. "Deep breath. In. Out. There you go."
Heihachi felt the hysteria melted from him slowly.
"I thought I heard someone crying," said Habu. Heihachi nodded, feeling awe at Habu for daring to breaking the silence when he was too scared to do so.
"Crying?"
"Yes," said Habu. "It came from over there." He pointed at an opening of a cave several feet from them. "Strange. I could hear it clearly even with the wind."
Something wasn't right.
"Let's go," Habu headed toward the cave, gesturing Heihachi to come along.
No, this wasn't right.
"Grandfather said that you shouldn't come to the beckoning of the dead," said Heihachi.
Habu sounded an incredulous. "The dead can't cry. Or," He turned to give Heihachi a mocking smile. "Do you still believe in ghosts?"
Of course Heihachi believed in ghosts. Grandfather had taught him many things. Things about the Living and things about the Dead.
"You need to stop listening to Grandfather," said Habu. "He's afraid of everything."
Heihachi didn't say anything. On one hand, he agreed with his brother, but on the other hand, he had seen the long scars on Grandfather's back and the haunted eyes as he spoke of the wars that he had lived through. Grandfather was a survivor, and survivors were sensitive to the changing tides of life, always seeing several moves ahead of what was happening now.
"Are you coming?" Habu asked.
Heihachi didn't want to, but he couldn't leave his brother.
"Yes."
Heihachi shivered as they passed the entrance of the cave. Habu lit up a torch that he brought with him, and they walked ahead, the moonlight slowly disappearing behind them, making way for the ghastly shadows bleeding under the gaze of the torch. Heihachi could see the way in front of them, although the light of the fire felt even less comforting than the moonlight, despite the fact that things were easier to see with the torch. Heihachi felt as if he was no longer under the protection of the heaven above, relying instead on his own human instinct, and he didn't trust himself.
"I could definitely hear it, the crying," Habu whispered to Heihachi.
Heihachi frowned. Without the sound of the wind, he still couldn't hear the crying that Habu was talking about. There was nothing but a heavy eerie silence, occasionally broken by the sound of the soft footsteps.
"I can't hear anything, Habu," Heihachi whispered back.
"Shhhh, you'll scare him away," Habu hushed him. Then, "You really can't hear it?"
"No."
Heihachi wondered if the loud beating of his heart was preventing him from hearing what his brother heard. He strained his ears, but heard nothing. The sense of wrongness was rising again.
Habu must have sensed it too because he stopped in his track. They stood in silence for a while, listening for a sign of danger.
"Stay here," Habu ordered before walking ahead.
"But—" Heihachi began to protest, but his brother cut him off. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
Heihachi obeyed, but not without sticking his tongue at his brother's back. He sat bathing in darkness, hoping that in endangering himself to the shadows, he could hide in them, unseen by whoever his enemy was.
With every passing second, Heihachi became even more restless. He remembered that his Grandfather told him to always keep a calm heart when traveling through the rift between the Living and the Dead because the Dead could hear the quickening heartbeat of fear better than they could hear breathing. Heihachi clutched at his cloak and prayed that nothing bad will happen.
He waited for a long time, but Habu had not come back yet. Heihachi shivered even though the cloak was keeping him warm.
A gust of wind passed by and he curled into himself, lifting the collar up to his ears. It was freezing, but the silence that followed was even more unnerving.
Heihachi counted the time slowly in his head. 1…2…3…4…. By the time he reached 249, Habu still had not returned. Heihachi looked into the darkness, hoping for the familiar orange spill of light from the torch. He looked to the direction of the cave entrance, where he could still see the edge of the moonlight licking at the tip of the crimson rocks.
A voice startled Heihachi from his thoughts.
"Habu?" He asked uncertainly.
There was a soft voice echoing from deep within the cave, somewhere faraway, but Heihachi could definitely hear it. He wanted to go see who it was, but fear and his brother's words told him to stay where he was.
However, what if it was Habu who was crying out for help, and Heihachi was too cowardly to save him? Yet, it could also be the sound of the dead awakening from their slumber and seeking souls to feed on.
Heihachi swallowed and made his decision.
He began walking toward the voice.
Habu was still, bloodied on the cave floor next to a goban when Heihachi found him.
"No, no, no no no," Heihachi cried. It wasn't happening. Habu wasn't dead. Habu couldn't be dead. Habu promised him that they were both going to be okay. They were going to go home and be scolded by mother and grandfather. The back of his eyes and the base of his nose stung, and something warm and wet trailed down his face, but he didn't registered any of this because Habu wasn't dead. There was no need for tears or grief because Habu wasn't dead, he wasn't. Please.
Please, Habu wasn't dead. God, please say that Habu wasn't dead.
Please.
There was a flash of light at the corner of his eyes, and Heihachi was shocked to find that the Goban was glowing. The lines on the board illuminated an unnatural green, and Heihachi could feel a strange warmth reaching for him, soothing the violent storm in his mind. An image flashed before his eyes, but Heihachi didn't want to believe what he was seeing, this majestic figure in pure white. Beautiful flowing black hair of ebony, pale skin of the ivory moon, and violet eyes of the twilight—this person must be a god.
Perhaps he had heard Heihachi's prayer.
"Please," said Heihachi. He wanted Habu to wake up again. He wanted his brother again. He wanted to go home. He wanted to turn back time to where Habu accepted Ganji's challenge, wanted everything to go back to the way it was.
Please.
"I'm sorry," said the majestic figure. "I can no more change the tides of life than you can. Not even Kami-sama is willing to shift the balance between life and death."
The figure leaned down to look at him in the eye, the pale white glow even more unnatural up close, almost blinding, almost too divine for Heihachi to face directly. "You have to let him go child. Let him go and live."
"I'm not leaving my brother," said Heihachi.
"Then you will die," said the Being. "They will come for you, the ones who killed your brother. And they are angry. You have disturbed their sleep, disrespecting their resting place. They will not forgive you."
Heihachi wanted to stubbornly insist that he'd rather die than leave his brother, but he didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave his brother, but he didn't want to die either. He couldn't leave Habu here in this forsaken place, forever hovering between the Land of the Living and The Land of the Dead.
Please.
"I can't help you," said the divine being. "But there is one thing that I can give you."
There was a flash of blinding white light, and Heihachi had to shield his eyes from being blinded. When the light faded, Heihachi lifted his face, and he gasped at the sight of Habu slowly opening his eyes in front of him.
The divine being took a step back.
"Heihachi," said Habu, but this wasn't quite Habu. There was an unnatural white light surrounding him, just like the light surrounding the divine being. "You have to leave."
"I, I can't—"
"Listen to me," Habu grasped Heihachi's cloak, pulling him closer. "Heihachi, you have to get out of here safely. You have to, or I won't be able to cross to the Other Side."
"Don't cross," Heihachi said. If Habu stayed—but Heihachi could hear the distant sound of running water over pebbles, and for a moment, he thought he could see it—the bright and misty golden river under sunlight.
"No," said Habu. "It's too late for me. I can't—"
"Why are you giving up? Do you want to die?" Heihachi's voice broke, and something snapped on Habu's face, something fierce and angry and painful at the same time.
"Of course I don't want to die," said Habu. "But it's too late, and I can't pretend that I could live, Heihachi. I have to go. I can't cling on to unfinished business and become a Wanderer."
Heihachi gasped. No. His brother couldn't become a Wanderer. Anything but a Wanderer.
"Let me go, Heihachi," Habu said softly. "Let me go and live."
"Let your brother rest, child," the divine being spoke, his voice sad. "There's nothing worse than to become a Wanderer."
"You're….you're a Wanderer," Heihachi came to the understanding at last.
Then the light surrounded his brother extinguished, and the cave was bathed in chill and silence once more. The sound of the river retreated into the dark, faded away into the whistling of the desert wind.
"Yes," said the Wanderer. "My name is Fujiwara-no-Sai." He placed a hand on Habu's cold forehead. "Live. Bring him home. He deserves a proper burial."
Heihachi wiped his tears and took the Wanderer's words.
"Why me?" asked Heihachi. "Why do I get to live?"
Sai paused, as if contemplating whether or not to tell the truth to a small child. There was resignation heavy on his shoulders, as if he too, was a victim of forces beyond his control.
"Because fate had decided to let you live for its own purposes," Sai answered. "Fate will guide you out of here to safety, and so will I, if you so choose."
"Well then, would you like to live?"
"My brother," said Heihachi. "If he doesn't have a proper burial—"
"He may become a Wanderer, forever trapped in the world of the Living with an unfulfilled existence," Sai answered. "I too, did not have a proper burial."
"I…I," Heihachi didn't want to return to the village. He couldn't. But he couldn't stay here either, couldn't let his brother's soul faced eternal punishment.
Habu.
Heihachi began to take off the cloak he borrowed to cover Habu's body, but the spirit said. "Keep the cloak, child, for you are still alive."
Suddenly, Heihachi felt a surge of anger. Fate could take his brother away, could control him like a puppet on string, but Heihachi couldn't give in without a fight. This was one thing that he refused to cave in. Fate would take anything from him, but not this.
"No," Heihachi said, slipping the cloak around his brother's body.
The spirit watched him with sad eyes, but didn't try to stop him.
It was a well-known story in the village. Heihachi who came back from the rift between the Living and the Dead, bringing back nothing but his brother's body, blood on his cheek, and a Goban.
Heihachi had a dream the night he came back to the village.
In the dream, Habu embraced him one last time before walking toward the river. Heihachi wanted to call out to him, begging him to come back, but an invisible force was clamping his throat shut. Habu waded his way through the glimmering water, sunlight brushing golden glints on to his hair, and, for a moment, turned back to look at Heihachi one last time.
Habu smiled, and then he turned back and continued on until Heihachi could see him no more.
Sai appeared once in Heihachi's dream, near the day his wife was to give birth. Heihachi wondered where they were, if they were drifting in between worlds, floating among the bright clouds of stars in the midst of the universe.
Years had passed, but Heihachi could never forget that face, never forget the blood on his hand, never forget the fading light of his brother's departing spirit.
It wasn't a good sign if the Dead, especially a Wanderer, beckoned him near the time of his child's birth.
"From your line, a child will spring. That child is the person that I am waiting for," said Sai.
"You can't take my son from me," Heihachi said. He was no longer a child anymore. He was not longer afraid of sacrificing everything to protect what was important to him.
"I will do no such thing," said Sai. "I will not take anything from you. It will be the child's choice to follow what I will teach him."
Heihachi contemplated his words.
"Is he your unfinished business in this mortal world?" asked Heihachi.
"Yes," Sai smiled softly, and for a moment, Heihachi had forgotten that this spirit in front of him was a Wanderer, a dead soul that was being punished by Kami-sama. "Do not worry yet, for I will not come to you again until birth of the child of light."
When his grandson was born, his one and only grandson, just as Sai said he would, the child was named Hikaru. People were their names. Or the names became the people. Heihachi wasn't sure, but in his heart, he hoped that Hikaru would have the light in his heart to pierce through the darkness.
Heihachi couldn't see or hear the ghost, but he shivered when he could sense the presence of death hovering over his grandson. He hoped with all his heart that Hikaru could pierce through its shadow.
Next to him, Sai smiled as the child eyed him curiously.
"Hikaru. I've been waiting for you."
Hikaru squealed, reaching a tiny hand toward Sai.
Sai took the child's hand in his.
In the Great Palace, Touya Kouyou watched as a star fell from the dark sky, marking the birth of the one that prophets had spoken of.
"What is it, father?" asked Touya Akira, his son.
"It had finally begun," said Touya Kouyou, and Akira looked at his father in confusion, waiting for an explanation of his cryptic words, but nothing came.
"Come," Touya Kouyou said, and for a moment, Akira thought that his father was talking to him, but his father had this faraway look in his eyes, as if he was speaking to the fallen star itself.
"We'll be waiting."
End of Prologue.