Authorly preamble or something: One day I am really going to have to go back and finish reading Hikaru no Go. But I've been saying that for the last four years, give or take. I believe this was written around the end of 2007, ostensibly proving that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Proxy
"One more game?"
Sai folded his fan and regarded Hikaru uncertainly over the go board. "It would probably be better if you went to sleep, Hikaru. You have a match tomorrow, and an early morning..."
"I know, Sai, I– I know," Hikaru stammered quietly. He was tired; it showed in his voice. "Just... one more game?"
Sai pressed the end of his fan to his lips and made an uncertain sound, sighing when Hikaru took this as consent and began clearing the previous game's stones from the board with a crooked grin. Hikaru was always changing, improving, evolving; there was no denying it. To Sai he resembled a flower blooming. However, something in Hikaru had changed, something that Sai was hard put by to pin down and define. This was not the first time he had plaintively requested an extra practice match; it was almost as if he was afraid of losing in a game that actually counted. He did not want to lose, this much was clear, but his determination to win was somehow... different. But whenever Sai thought too hard about it he would conclude in subdued frustration that this made no sense; pre-empting a train of thought to which he already knew the conclusion, Sai turned his attention to the board.
"Onegaishimasu."
Hikaru was tired. He was tired enough that sleep would most definitely be preferable to an additional game, but not tired enough that he would be unable to focus. Not yet, anyway. He palmed a stone absently, looking across at Sai through his bangs. He didn't want to lose, that was all; he needed to be prepared. A little extra practice couldn't hurt, and it wasn't as if he didn't intend to sleep at all. It would be fine.
What Sai could not understand and Hikaru would never admit to even himself was that his true goal was indeed exhaustion. With his vision blurred with want of sleep, it was easy for the near-motionless form across from him to seem smaller, slighter, for a glance of Sai's dark eyes to reflect something sharper and more severe. It was so much easier for the slightest flutter of dark hair caused by a gentle shift in Sai's posture or the faint breeze coming in through the open window to bring to mind an agitated flick of slender fingers removing dark strands from the line of vision in a manner still only vaguely familiar.
It was ten minutes before Hikaru's exhaustion began to affect his judgement, and Sai adjusted his game accordingly. In twenty minutes he was playing no better than the day Sai had met him. The pauses between moves became longer and longer until he ceased to play at all, and Sai realized that Hikaru had fallen asleep where he sat, stone still in hand. Five more minutes had Hikaru pitching forward across the go board, sending a shower of stones across the floor, and Sai could only lay a hand on Hikaru's head helplessly.
He could not understand why Hikaru sighed happily and smiled in his sleep.