Second Hand
by aishuu
Notes: This was originally going to be my next blindgo entry, but I couldn't squish it into that mold. This will stand as a oneshot, although I do have a couple of parts planned – depends if there's enough interest. I'm basically trying to created a realistic background for Ogata.
The day that his mother dragged him to the optometrist to get glasses, Ogata Seiji decided his life was over.
He sat in the passenger seat of their small family car, staring out the window moodily like the teenager he almost was. His mother, annoying woman that she was, wasn't about to let him get away with it.
"It's your own fault, you know. You read those blasted kifu without good lighting, and you spend hours squinting at your goban without taking a break. Honestly, I'm almost surprised it took this long," Ogata Sanae told him in an exasperated voice as she started the car.
He offered her a glare. "I can get by just fine," he replied, although intellectually he recognized that she was probably right to insist. He wasn't about to admit that; he had his pride.
"Uh-huh," she said, rolling her eyes as she merged into traffic. "You keep telling yourself that, but you're going to wear them. There will be no losing, accidental breakage or whatever your brilliant little mind is currently scheming. If there is, we're going to have a serious talk about your allowance. I'm not paying 30,000 yen for nothing."
He snorted, even more irritated that she knew him well enough to make the threat. "Can I get contacts?" he asked, hoping she would at least concede to that.
"Not until you're sixteen," she replied. "You'll need to get a job if you want to afford them."
His mother had always been brutally honest about their finances. As a single parent, she sometimes found it difficult to make ends meet, but they never lacked for what they needed. She did factor his Go lessons in her budget, right under electricity, so he didn't fight her when she pointed out other things were too expensive.
"You're trying to get me beat up, aren't you?" he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest belligerently. "I'm already weird for liking Go. Now you're trying to deliver the final blow to my social life just because you don't want me dating."
"Not until you're sixteen at least," Sanae replied with exaggerated cheer. "And if a girl won't go out with you because you wear glasses, then she's definitely too shallow spend time with."
Sixteen had always been the magic age between them. While he understood her reasoning, it seemed very distant from his current twelve, and very infuriating. Whenever he claimed that he was "old enough already" she would sigh and get a distant look in her eyes before telling him he wasn't.
"Mother, do you know what they do to people who wear glasses, get good grades and play Go?"
"Offer them jobs when they graduate?" she asked.
He wondered if committing matricide would get him arrested. "They label them geeks, and do you know what they do to geeks?"
"You're going to tell me, aren't you?"
"It took two hours for Michiyama-sensei to calm Nagoya-kun down the last time they caught up with him," Seiji told her. "That's not counting the time it took to get the egg out of his hair. Do you really want your son to be traumatized like that?"
Sanae didn't have an immediate comeback, and for a moment Seiji reveled with the unfamiliar sensation of actually getting the better of her. He never won one of their arguments. His moment of pleasure didn't last long, because she turned her head slightly, taking her eyes off the road for a moment.
"I suppose we could consider contacts," she said slowly. Her face was perfectly neutral, and he told himself to ignore the sudden leap of hope. He knew his mother too well to believe she'd just concede. "Of course, that would mean not going to the Institute today, even though I had planned to see about getting you registered as an insei candidate."
His breath caught in his throat, and he choked up. Becoming an insei had been a dream of his, but the fees associated were expensive and his mother had said it was beyond their budget. He would have gotten a job, but that would just eat into his Go playing time. "I thought you said we couldn't afford that," he said quietly, wondering if she really was so cruel as to tease him.
"I got a raise at work," she replied, and her smile was bright. "I can either get you enrolled as an insei, provided you pass the exam, or you can get contacts."
Needless to say, he got the glasses.
Two weeks later, he was wondering if he made a mistake.
He stood at the sink of the First Hand Go Salon, washing the glass stones carefully as he thought about the impending test. While he had competed in several children's tournaments, this would be his first step to becoming a pro. He had dreamed of competing in professional tournaments, and couldn't think of a better way to earn a living than playing Go. He hated to admit it, but the prospect of the insei test was daunting. A part of him wished he'd decided on the contacts. At least those would have been a sure-fire thing.
The parlor was owned by Tsukiota Ken 5-dan, a mid-level player who managed to earn a comfortable living, but didn't have aspirations to a title. Seiji knew the man could have been a brilliant player if he truly devoted himself to studying, but Tsukiota was content with his mid-rank status.
Think of the devil, and he appeared, for Tsukiota materialized next to Seiji, carefully picking up one of the stones that had just been washed. "Good work as always, Ogata-kun," he said approvingly.
"Thank you," Seiji replied, shutting the water off, and pulling out a towel to dry his hands.
"Do you have time for a game?" Tsukiota asked.
"With you?" Seiji replied, a bit taken aback. Tsukiota rarely offered games to the regulars, preferring instead to spend his time watching baseball or tutoring the neighborhood children. He joked that he didn't like to waste his talent, but it was an open secret that Tsukiota lacked motivation.
"Sure. Consider it my good luck present," the older man said, practically sparkling.
Seiji nodded his agreement, and found himself literally dragged along behind Tsukiota. The customers looked up, and smiled as they saw the pro's antics, but made no move to rise. Tsukiota was temperamental, and often would stop playing if an audience formed unless they were invited. To the visible disappointment of a few, he made no move to call any of them over, instead pushing Seiji down in a chair and taking the one across for himself.
This was to be a private match, then.
Seiji checked the go ke in front of him, and found it was white. He started to reach for the other one, but Tsukiota stopped him. "We're going to play an even game, Ogata-kun. Komi is 5.5 moku," Tsukiota said. "Nigiri."
They had never played an even game. While Tsukiota had often played him when he was younger, the more skilled Seiji got, the less they played against each other. Tsukiota claimed it was because he wasn't good at teaching anything beyond the basics, but Seiji suspected it was because Tsukiota was lazy.
Tsukiota won black, and Seiji had to suppress his nerves to return the opening bow. The older man played on the upper right star, and Seiji quickly countered. The game developed quickly, stones spreading across the board with precision and passion.
Sweat beaded on Seiji's forehead as he studied the game. They had barely reached chuuban, but Tsukiota was being utterly ruthless, pushing Seiji around with the ease he would have swatted a fly. Seiji tried to find some escape, some way to take the game back, but there was nothing he could do. "I have lost," Seiji ground out, trying not to cry as he bowed his head in resignation.
"You have," Tsukiota said in return. Surprised by the unaccustomed flatness in the salon owner's voice, Seiji glanced up to see an expressionless look on his face. "It's good you can recognize when you're out of your league."
Seiji ground his teeth together, trying to keep himself from giving into tears. This was so humiliating. "What do you hope to do by crushing me?"
"I thought it might help give you an idea of what you're going to face," Tsukiota replied. "You're good, Ogata-kun, but the road before you is harder than you know. I just wanted you to have a glimpse of what the pro world is like, and think carefully about whether you're ready for it."
Seiji could understand Tsukiota's reasoning, although he didn't like it. Getting crushed the day before the insei exam was not doing anything for his confidence. "Aren't you supposed to tell me I'm good enough and to have faith in my abilities?"
Tsukiota gave one of those blasted half smiles he was so fond of. "You need to decide that for yourself," he said. "You can't measure your strength according to what others say." He looked down at the board. "I'm considered a mediocre pro; there are many players that are better than I am, and many will seek to destroy you."
Seiji couldn't think of a way to reply. He couldn't tell if Tsukiota was encouraging him or trying to encourage him or just taking the chance to get his hits in early. Seiji murmured a polite thank-you, sweeping the white stones into the go ke. When he left that day, he looked over his shoulder to commit the place to his memory. He swore he wouldn't return until he beat Tsukiota in a professional match.
He dressed in the black pants and white shirt of his school uniform since he'd outgrown his last suit. His mother, wearing the power suit of an office assistant, produced a blue tie which had belonged to his father. He didn't protest as she tied it around his neck, knowing that the insei entrance exam was one of the keys to his future. He would become a pro, he swore. He would be good enough.
She was in a strange mood, hardly talking at all as they waited to be called into the room to be interviewed by the insei master. It was fine she was quiet, since he was already thinking over the test, and hoping that the three kifu he'd selected would be viewed favorably.
He heard his name called, and looked up to see an old, white-haired man waiting for him. The man's face was so wrinkled that his lips and eyes looked like afterthoughts, rather than actual features. The man was smiling at him in a comforting kind of way, and bid him to take a seat across from a slightly scarred goban.
"I'm Egawa Hisao 9-dan, the current insei master," the man said. He had a crackling voice that spoke with authority. "Can you give me your kifu, Ogata-kun?"
Seiji handed the records over, pleased that his hands didn't shake. The man looked them over, absorbing them in a glance. "Who's the pro you were playing?" he asked, tapping the one Seiji had recorded only hours before.
"Tsukiota Ken 5-dan," Seiji replied. It had been daring to offer a kifu where he'd lost, but he hoped the insei master would appreciate the boldness. The game was a good one for an amateur, especially playing a pro who was being vicious. He could see that now, in retrospect, although he was still mad at his former teacher.
"Ah, interesting," Egawa said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Tsukiota-kun's always been good at spotting talent." The man gave a gravelly chuckle. "Are you ready to play?"
"Always," Seiji replied, earning an approving nod.
"You get a handicap of four stones," the insei master said, and Seiji obediently spread them out on the four corner stars. After offer each other courteous bows, Seiji played his first hand.
He played more tentatively than he normally would have, feeling the pressure keenly. He had to do well, if he wanted to enter the insei. He had to become an insei if he wanted a serious chance at entering the pro world. There were ronins who occasionally made it through the pro exam without being insei, but those geniuses were few and far between.
He was aware of his mother's silent support as she knelt beside him, and that, more than anything, settled his nerves. She had faith in him; she wouldn't have agreed to the fee for this test if she didn't. He took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses, and went on the attack.
The next half an hour the game slowly began to tilt away from the domination Egawa had originally claimed, and Seiji brought the game into yose. In the end, he lost by five moku. Considering he'd started with such a handicap, it might as well have been fifty.
Egawa squinted a bit as he studied the board. Seiji felt his face flush with fury and embarrassment. He could see where he'd made mistakes, and where he should have played. He had let his nerves get the better of him. There was no way he'd be able to face Tsukiota now.
"It's hard to come back once you fall behind to a pro," Egawa said kindly. "You played well, Ogata-kun. I'd be happy to let you into the insei classes."
The tension in his shoulders faded, and a smile sprang to life on his face before he could thought better of it. Maybe he had been judging himself too harshly. He had impressed the insei master.
He looked over at his mother, and was shocked to see the tears flowing down her face. She didn't make any effort to hide them, instead offering him a grin. "Congratulations, Seiji," she said. And then she bowed her head to him. "I'm very proud of you."
His mother had never been deferential to him before, and it made him uneasy. He wanted to tell her to quit it, but the words caught in his throat. She was showing respect for him, and he couldn't embarrass her in front of his new teacher.
"Thank you, okaasama," he murmured, using a finger to push his glasses back into place. Before the things had seemed an annoyance, but now they were a sign of what he'd do to become a professional go player. He would get better, he vowed to himself.
He would become the best.