Confrontation on Bamboo Island
Hikaru no Go and its characters belong to their makers. I'm just playing with them.
Much thanks to my beta Osidiano, she did a brilliant job kicking my but, ouch!
0. Prologue
"Please have a seat, Shindou-san."
Sounds of seats being taken.
"Whenever you are ready, Shindou-san."
"... Uh, so where do I start?"
"Start at the beginning."
"My beginning?"
"If you like."
"... But what how much should I tell them?"
"Think of the folks who will hear this as people who have just arrived from their faraway home, say, on Mars. In a way that's exactly what they will be."
"Mars? That's kinda cool. ... So I should maybe talk a little about the things that are going on in Japan right now? Should I tell them about the Uneasy Peace, stuff like that?"
"You can. They should already know the general history of these times. They will know about the Japanese-Dutch Alliance. And they will know about the ongoing tensions between Imperial Japan, the Kingdom of Korea and Soviet China."
"Okay, cool."
"Ready to start?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I'm afraid it's gonna be a long day; there's a lot to tell..."
"It will be no problem; arrangements have been made for refreshments at three hour intervals."
"Okay, great. ... Uh, and I've understood correctly that I can speak freely, even about all the super secret stuff?"
"Yes. Even subjects covered by the Official Secrets Act; that is the whole point of this project."
"Okay. Then I'm ready."
"Good. Just relax and start talking. Don't worry if you digress from the subject somewhat; it's all interesting to the project, but do try to come back."
"Gotcha."
"Starting official recording, this day, Atsuko 47, fifth day of the fifth month. A.k.a. May 5th 2011, Edo, Japan. Shindou-san, douzo."
-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-
1.
Hi! I'm Shindou Hikaru. I live in Edo, the largest city in Japan, and the seat of the Shogun and Shogunate is here too, making it our capital city. Not that I have much to do with the day to day workings of government; I was born here in the year 24 of Empress Atsuko's reign, better known internationally as the year 1989. When I had just turned 15 I officially became a spy.
'Spy,' yes, you heard me right. Oh, don't think it's as glamorous as they make it out in the novels, but on the other hand, it's a very important job. Especially considering the tensions between the Three Great Asian Nations.
You know, I read a spy novel once. It was set in Northern Europe,Moldova I think, and in it they had a situation going that very much resembled our Uneasy Peace. They called it 'the Cold War'. I like that phrase. It's very appropriate for our conflict here and the way we give each other the cold shoulder.
Anyway, I understand you are here to learn how I became a spy and what happened at the tournament.
To explain how I became a spy, I have to go back some years to when I was 12 when, like every kid in Japan, I had to go through Evaluation. They would sort the easily place-able kids first at age 11, and of course I ended being harder to place. My best friend Akari was sorted by Master Shinouda, who had her tested for ballet school. Akari and I were very surprised that she scored very well, and was accepted straight away.
That she liked ballet was no surprise to me; I remember quite well how our parents made us both go to ballet class when we were five, because they had read in one of those stupid women's mags that it would 'improve posture.' I was so glad to only have had to go to class the one year but Akari had taken two ballet classes a week ever since.
So Akari went to ballet school and I lost my best friend. I consoled myself by getting into trouble: I developed a liking for breaking things. However, my bad-boy phase didn't last very long because some months later it was my turn to get evaluated and I ended up under the tender mercies of that same Master Shinouda. Boy, is that guy tough!
Master S took none of my shit, and none of anybody else's either. And, I had to begrudgingly admit, he was good at what he did. He started off with 12 kids that needed evaluating for future careers and he placed five within three weeks. The rest of us he split up in groups of twos and threes and handled separately. I ended up paired with a sullen red headed kid called Mitani. And, hey, I'm not saying I had the cheeriest disposition at that time, but this kid would suck the joy out of a room just by entering it, geez!
I have to admit that Master S did his best for me. It wasn't his fault that the only things I was any good at were playing Dodge Ball and breaking things. Unfortunately there never was and never will be a professional sports league for Dodge Ball, however much I wished there was. So, after trying to place me and failing - Master S tried a bunch of sporty things, but it turned out I sucked at the more profitable sports - he started work on Mitani and I tagged along just as Mitani had while I was being assessed.
And that is how I ended up at the Edo Go Institute, one very rainy day. Turned out that the only thing that floated Mitani's boat - and only a little at that - was the old man's game of Go. And, blow me, it turned out that that was something one could actually have a real career in. Well, who knew?!
So I stood and watched this - to me - brand new phenomenon of serious looking folks, young and old, peering at a wooden board with crossed lines on it where, each one in turn, they placed black or white pill shaped markers on intersections of those lines and apparently took much import, satisfaction, frustration and what-not from. It was absolutely mesmerizing.
That very first time, I watched a boy a little older than me with wild red-brown hair wearing an army print T-shirt play a slightly older kid that was over-neatly dressed for his age. Once the scruffy kid had declared that he had lost, after only half the board was filled with black and white dots, both boys - having realized rather quickly that I knew absolutely zilch about the game - set me down and taught me the basics, saying that I was not allowed to stay indoors if I didn't know the bare minimum.
At first I felt a little bullied but then it turned out the rules of the game were not so bad and I really didn't fancy waiting out in the rain, so I let them teach me whatever they liked. Afterward I watched them play another game - this time the scruffy boy named Waya won - and I did feel I could follow some of what was going on on the board.
The second time Master S brought us to the Institute, I was very disappointed that Waya and Isumi, the neat boy Waya had played before,weren't there and that the only other game going on - except Mitani's test games, which didn't interest me much - was between a boy with a bob haircut wearing one of those sleeveless sweaters with a lozenge pattern on it in pink and purple - yuck! - and an adult wearing a suit and sunglasses indoors. The man was blowing thick smoke clouds from his cigarette. Just the type that rubs me the wrong way.
But there really wasn't anything else going on so I went over and managed to catch the game within the first move. For all their eye watering looks, their play was interesting enough. Well, at least what I could follow of it, anyway.
The game was progressing nicely - it looked like ciggy-man was pushing sleeveless-boy off the board quite effectively - when there was a sudden crash from the other side of the room and ciggy-man was apparently so startled by the sound that he shot out of his seat, sweeping out an arm and upending the board and the stones, sending them flying.
As it turned out, a young girl bringing in the tea had tripped and dropped her tray, but if you looked the suit-man in his eyes - which I did - you'd have seen a look that I hadn't seen outside a thriller-action movie: a mixture of extreme fright, wired tension and down right anger.
"Ogata-sensei, calm down, nothing happened," bob-cut boy said soothingly, sitting forward in his chair. Suit-man - Ogata - gave him a long grave look before straightening his vest and suit jacket and retaking his seat, almost nonchalantly. Bob-boy then gave me a pointed look before getting out of his chair and onto his knees on the floor where he started gathering up the spilled stones. I joined to help him almost automatically. God, I hate peer pressure.
Once we'd gathered all the stones, Ogata-sensei started bemoaning the fact that they hadn't been able to finish the game. And that's when I said - and subsequently did - the thing that changed my life: I told them I could recreate the game.
I had been observing the game practically from the start, and while I didn't understand the significance of many of the moves made, I felt confident I could put them back on the board in order of play. I could tell from the look in Ogata's eye that he wasn't believing me, so I - yes, open mouth, insert foot - insisted that I could do it too. Predictably, Ogata called my 'bluff' and so I set out to prove it.
Putting back the game was more difficult than I had imagined but I was determined to do it; I wasn't about to lose face to a guy like Ogata! And after an awkward moment where I realized I had missed a move and had to take about six stones off the board to try again, I did manage to complete the game up to the point where the mishap happened. I remember looking up in unsure triumph and being delighted to see astonishment on the guy's face; I knew I'd got it right.
I'm pretty sure Ogata was about to speak when another commotion interrupted him; angry shouting could be heard from the end of the room where Master S and Mitani had been all afternoon. Then everything happened really fast and some few moments later the three of us were standing outside the front door of the Institute where Master S was holding Mitani by his upper arms and giving him a harsh talking to.
I had never seen Master S that mad before and I had to extrapolate from his uncharacteristically disjointed speech what had actually happened. Turned out Mitani had cheated. And obviously that was about the biggest no-no in Go playing. I didn't realize how horrible what Mitani had done was at the time, but I did realize that if playing Go was important enough that people could get paid for it then cheating could not be tolerated.
As Master S's rant was slowing down, I also realized that Mitani's testing would not be continued; he'd been kicked out for cheating, forbidden to come back. My heart gave a sudden lurch at the news. Not for Mitani's sake, I assure you, it was his own fault for botching his chances. But now Master S would have no reason to come to the Institute again and that meant I would not be coming again and I wouldn't be able to watch people play Go anymore. And just when I was starting to dig the game a bit too!
So imagine my surprise when the next Wednesday I found myself at the Institute again, with Master S and without Mitani. Turned out they wanted to test me. I think it was because I rebuilt that game; really can't have been anything else, 'cause that's the only thing I had done there, except just stand around and watch. They did ask me if I could recreate the game again, but with a week having passed I wasn't so sure. I did try and got a fair ways. I had the impression that the man - who turned out to be bob-boy's dad, Master Touya - who tested me was not unhappy with what I managed to produce, but even so I only could remember up to two thirds of the game, and I was sure that that was not really enough.
But apparently my efforts weren't totally bogus because it was recommended that I come and study Go for six months, every Wednesday afternoon and all of Saturday - which really sucked, because I had soccer practice on Saturdays - and after that they'd 're-evaluate.' At the time I had no clue what that meant, but I was not unhappy to learn more about the game and six months, while long, would not be forever and then I'd get to play soccer again.
Boy, was I wrong.
-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-
The upside was that Waya and Isumi were also in the kids' Go study class, even though they were in the A group and I was put in the B group. B for Bad. And boy was I bad! The kids with the absolutely lowest win scores in that class knew 10.000 times more about Go than I did! It was down right embarrassing to be taught the standard moves by a six year old girl! Even if Nanako was rather sweet about it.
It all went a little better after I had attached myself to the only familiar faces there - Waya and Isumi - at lunch on that first Saturday, because they would pump me full of game play strategies, until I felt my head would explode. But I was determined to be better - or at least more knowledgeable – than a girl of six as soon as (in)humanly possible. My pride demanded no less!
Indeed I got better, and quite fast if I can believe what Master S and Master T were saying. Both Masters were the no-nonsense type, so I felt safe believing them. My win scores also showed progress; I actually won a game once in a while.
By the time the six months were up, I had already guessed - correctly - that I'd be staying on for another six. I hadn't guessed what Master T had to say about it but now he told me I was well on the way to becoming a Go Pro. I can't tell you how that made me feel; I'd never thought I'd amount to anything significant in life, and after six months in the program I had become well aware how hard it was to go Pro, and to be told I had a chance at it! Well, wow!
Of course being on the right path did mean I had a ways to go before I could qualify for the Grand Test. And I spent another six months playing Go at the Institute until I was first moved up to A group , where I spent another year. Then I went on to the intensive track, where Waya, Isumi, and my new friends Nase and Fuku, also were playing and where I had to come to the Institute on Friday afternoons too, for the tests everybody in the intensive track were taking. Some were Go tests, some school tests, some general knowledge tests. I guessed the Institute wanted Pros who knew more than just Go. And I wanted to be a Go Pro enough to start looking into the subjects the tests had been about and so, maybe, hopefully, do better on the next one.
I'm self-aware enough to say I did well at Go; I even started to provide interesting games for the real eggheads of the Institute like Ogata and Touya Akira - the bob-headed boy from my second visit. There was something odd about those two - apart from their manor and style of dress - that set them apart from the students and even the other Pros. For one thing, they would be absent from the Institute for some days at a time, but games would still be scheduled for them and results from these games - and the game records - would be logged just like any other game. Of course Touya, Ogata and Master T were all certified Pros. Touya had been a Pro since he was 8; I know, 'cause I checked. And yes the kid is good, but he's my age exactly and I felt like a dunce next to him. It was infuriating!
So I worked hard to level up to be more than a minor diversion to Touya and Ogata, though I have to say, both always played me seriously, especially at the beginning when I really sucked buckets. Still, I wanted to be as good as they were. I wanted to be a 'Pro' too.
I really looked up to the Pro players I knew. And I tried to respect all of them but whenever I had to play Tsubaki Pro... well he made it really hard. He, and a bunch of others, all Pros, were the most dreadful players I've ever seen. But they were all still Pros; I just couldn't understand why they had been certified! At least then I couldn't, now I know better, and I'm grateful that they are Pros after all.
-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-
In the 39th year of Empress Atsuko's reign (2004 international date), I was to become 15 in the 9th month, and apparently that meant I was up for evaluation for the Pro Test. Waya and Isumi had done the Test earlier: Waya the year before and Isumi another year before that. Both had passed, but neither would tell me anything about what is was like.
Also their activities didn't change much; Waya still played in the student classes, now as an assistant teacher, and Isumi would also show up, all be it less frequently than Waya. And there were the Pro Games of course, where Pro players played other Pro players and leveled up by winning much like we did in the student classes. Being a Pro meant that you could - in fact had to - take part in the Pro Games and were allowed entry to the game rooms at all times, so you could just watch, too. I was always looking forward to that part, as I had never lost my enthusiasm for watching great games being played.
So when my time came I was eager to take the Test. But I found it wasn't anything like I had expected...
-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-Go-
TBC
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