Brightly Burning
A Hikaru no Go Alternate Universe
Disclaimers: Hotta and Obata. Shonen Jump. Not Mine.
Notes: ladyaddiction once again gave valuable insights on this, and tdei also helped quite a bit.
Part 8: The Impression That I Get
Touya Akira was thoroughly bored. Leaning against the counter in his father's Go parlor, he flipped through a book of kifu without much interest. It was a slow day, with many customers finding other things to do, but a few die-hards were still present which meant he had to stay.
Ichikawa Harumi had managed to snag a last-minute date and had begged him to help her. Christmas Eve was a night for lovers, she pointed out, and didn't she deserve an evening out? There had been many times Ichikawa had gone above and beyond her duties as his father's employee, and Akira owed her. So he'd agreed to take over manning the shop for the afternoon.
It was incredibly dull, collecting fees when he could have been playing himself. He shifted back and forth, trying to find a bit of relief for his sore feet. Standing for hours on end was more difficult than sitting seiza for a game. He made a mental note to make sure to always pay the countergirl well after he took the parlor over from his father.
The doorbell rang as someone entered and he turned his attention to the customer, half expecting Hirose. Kitajima was already present and accounted for and there were few others that would elect to spend Christmas Eve here, instead of with family.
He was startled as he saw the newcomer. Shindou Hikaru slouched in, hands tucked in the pockets of his black, school-issued winter coat. Akira recognized the other teen instantly. How could he not? His eyes narrowed, wondering if Shindou had come to challenge him.
He was a bit surprised to see the new pro raise an eyebrow of inquiry. "Touya-san, right?" Shindou had a slightly breathy sound to his voice indicating he'd taken the stairs instead of the elevator.
"Hello, Shindou-san," he said, bowing his head in acknowledgment. "What can I do for you?"
"I was looking for someone to play. No one's online, and I really want a good game..." he sounded wistful.
"Were you looking for me?" Akira hoped his voice was calm. It wouldn't do to scare Shindou off.
Shindou laughed, a bubbling sound that took Akira off guard. "Why would I do that? I didn't know you'd be here."
"My father does own the parlor." Akira heard himself speak with sharp impatience. Shindou was a very poor liar, he thought irritably.
"Really?" The complete, innocent surprise made Akira reevaluate his assumption. Either Shindou was an excellent actor, or he really had no clue that this was the Meijin's parlor. Neither reflected well on him.
Akira pointed to the sign on the wall across from him. Along with numerous plagues, a shelf of trophies sat, all engraved with Touya Kouyo's name. "It's pretty well known," he said dryly.
Shindou wandered away from the counter with an interested look on his face as he examined the awards. "Touya-meijin is really good," he said, sounding pleased.
"He's earned five titles," Akira said neutrally. Some might have thought him boasting, but he was merely stating fact.
"Not bad," Shindou replied, before digging into his pockets. Akira watched, passively curious, as Shindou produced his wallet. "How much is the cover?" he asked.
"It's 750 yen for adults," Akira answered, bemused. Most pros didn't bother paying, since salons welcomed their presence as a gain in prestige. It seemed no one had enlightened Shindou to that fact, and Akira was loath to point it out.
"I'm still in school - don't I get the children's rates?" Shindou asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Akira had known Shindou was an excellent Go player; he just hadn't figured on the other teen's ability to raise his hackles with just a few words. He felt like a cat getting its fur stroked the wrong way. Was Shindou really that cheap? Gritting his teeth, he pasted a smile on his face before answering. "If you show your school ID." He wasn't going to back down.
Shindou grinned at him, before digging through his wallet to produce a battered Haze Junior High ID, and slapping it down on the counter with 500 yen. Akira made a point of checking it out, noting the picture was a couple of years old. In it, Shindou was mugging for the camera with a wide grin, his eyes squinched a bit over chubby cheeks. He had been a cute kid.
"Fine, fine," he said. "Coffee is extra, though I think I have some hot chocolate around here." He remembered Ichikawa making some for him last week, but there were few other clients who would enjoy it. Most of them liked very black coffee, the bitterer the better. Akira had a sweet tooth, although he was loath to admit it.
"Hot chocolate would be great," Shindou said, removing his gloves and shoving them in his pockets. He vigorously rubbed his hands together, flexing his fingers a couple of times to test them. "It's pretty cold out." Akira hadn't expected him to actually take the offer up. He mentally checked the cupboards, hoping he could remember where the stuff was. Shindou chuckled as he noticed Touya's distraction, and interpreted it right. "Coffee works, too."
Touya lowered his head slightly to hide behind his hair, not sure what his face looked like. "Just a second, then, and I'll bring it to you. I think I saw Kitajima-san around - he's decent, he won't need too large a handicap."
"Don't you have time to play?" Shindou asked. "It'd be nice to play an even game."
Akira felt his fingers itch with the desire to play. He had been thinking of this boy's astounding skills for months. It would be wonderful to find out if Shindou could possibly measure up to his hopes - a rival, someone his age who would be able to walk the road to the Hand of God with him. The temptation burned, but he knew it would be a poor idea to indulge. Biting his lip, he drew on the patience his father had fostered in him. "I think we should wait," he said.
"Why?" Shindou asked. "You're here, I'm here, and there's plenty of gobans." Shindou sounded a bit put out. "Don't think I'm good enough?"
"My father says that it's impossible to know a man unless you play in a competitive game. It's something that a game played for fun will never match. I want to play you like that, when you join the world of the pros. I'm waiting for you."
He didn't know Shindou well enough to interpret the expressions that danced across his face like the colors of a beautiful dawn. Finally Shindou's expression settled with a small smile curving his lips gently, a more natural look than Akira had ever seen on his face. His eyes were a stunning, dizzying green as Shindou shoved his hands into his pockets. "Can you introduce me to Kitajima-san?" Shindou asked. Then the smile widened, and a grin bloomed. "But I'm still paying the child's rate."
"Sure thing," Akira said with a laugh before finally thrusting the 500 yen into the cashbox. He wondered if this was what friendship would be like. Inside, the small thread of hope that maybe Shindou would be what he'd been looking for began to expatiate through his heart.
It was a bright, clear winter day, with only a hint of chill in the air. The snow that had fallen last week had already melted, leaving the ground damp and ugly. Akari wasn't fond of the cold weather, but she preferred it to this uncertain blah-ness that seemed to permeated her bones. She felt listless, despite the new year's holiday.
Wrapped in winter coats which they left open, the pair stood together in front of the shrine, standing closely together with casual intimacy. Shindou Hikaru clapped his hands, bowing his head respectfully as he offered his wish.
Akari glanced over at him out of the corner of her eyes, wondering what he was thinking. She'd grown used to his distance, though, and knew better than to ask. She didn't want him to blow her off again.
She had been surprised when he'd agreed to accompany her, although she wasn't sure why. She and Hikaru had gone to the shrine together ever since they were little, and there was no reason for that tradition to change. They used to eat themselves sick on candy the vendors sold, but this year they'd refrained and only bought some takoyaki. He'd still eaten more than he should have, but she was too relieved to see him acting like the old Hikaru to seriously chide him for his gluttony.
She clapped her own palms together, lowering her head as she made a wish of her own. Please, whatever happens, let us all find happiness, she prayed, thinking of her family and friends. Let him find his way, she added, although it was probably a poor wish. Hikaru seemed to know exactly what he was doing, although no one else could make sense of his actions. She was frustrated, Hikaru's mother was frustrated, Waya was frustrated.
It wasn't all bad. She had found herself growing closer to Waya even as Hikaru increased his distance. Waya was a good boyfriend, and she thought she could grow to love him. They weren't serious - not yet - but recently their kisses had grown more intense, and her heart picked up whenever she thought of his charming smile.
Waya was interested in just about everything, willing to spend a day at a museum or just hanging out at an arcade. He was smart and patient for a boy, something he'd learned from playing Go. He also had a tunnel vision that was nearly as obsessive as Hikaru's for the game, but he never lost sight of the fact that life existed outside the Go world. She wished he could be here, but his family had traveled to Yokohama for the new year.
It only took another moment before she became aware of the crowd waiting at her back, willing her to move on so they could have a turn. Turning, she smiled at Hikaru, who gave her a grin back, before they hurried out of the way. "What did you wish for?" he asked, raising a teasing eyebrow.
This, too, was an old game. "Guess," she teased. They never told each other what they had asked for, but it was a long-standing tradition to offer speculations, both serious and absurd. They never actually confessed, but it was a fun game to play.
"Good grades?" he asked. "You're sitting the tests for Juuban, and you'll need all the help you can get!"
"I can get good grades by working hard," she said, scowling. She was a top student, but prone to fits of insecurity about her abilities. For Hikaru to tease her about her academic abilities was ridiculous since his grades currently resided somewhere in the basement. "Why waste a wish?"
"Smart. Okay, you wished for a cuter boyfriend than Waya?" Hikaru asked. "If you want, I can introduce you to a couple of pros - ever seen a picture of Isumi? My mother said she thought he was cute," Shindou said, turning around and walking backwards so he could watch her face.
"Wrong again, but thanks for the offer. I've already met Isumi," she said. She had, the same day she'd met Waya, and later again at the celebration party for Waya's passing the pro exam. Shindou had been invited, too, but he hadn't gone. "And watch where you're walking, you're going to run into someone."
"I have eyes in the back of my head!" Shindou proclaimed, grinning as he clasped his hands behind his back. That would have been the cue for him to crash into someone, but to her annoyance, it didn't happen. Hikaru had the most amazing luck. "Did you ask for Waya to marry you?" he asked. "I'm sure there's someone better out there for you!"
"Like you? Jealous?" she asked, before wishing she could take her words back. She had just inadvertently pointed at the elephant in the room between them, threatening their equipoise.
Hikaru stopped abruptly, the bright smile of merriment fading from his face. "We need to talk, Akari," he said seriously.
She felt her stomach clench with unease as he led her over to a bench, frowning so the ten year old loitering close by dashed off. He helped her sit down before taking a place next to her. Hikaru leaned forward slightly, his knees spread comfortably. "Akari, you're not... I mean, I know our parents used to..." he trailed off, trying to find something to say.
This conversation was long overdue, but she wasn't relishing having it. "When I was little, I used to think I'd marry you. It made sense, since our families were so close, and I liked you despite how stupid you could be."
"Hey!" Shindou protested. "I'm not stupid!"
"Tell that to your teachers," Akari said, smiling faintly. "Anyway, that was what I thought would happen. We'd get married, and I'd be your wife, and you'd get some dull job, and I'd keep house."
He nodded, avoiding her eyes by looking down and studying his fingers, now callused by the game he adored. "That wouldn't have been a bad life. I feel like I owe you an apology or something for deciding to play Go."
"No, you don't," she said quickly. "Can I finish?"
"Um, sure." He shifted again, his attention going to the crowd that was wandering the grounds. Then his fingers fell to his jacket, drawing it closed and fiddling with the zipper, dragging it up and down. The sound of the slide as it traveled the teeth was unnaturally loud, but Akari could just have been super-sensitive at the moment. Normally she would have smacked him to ensure she had his undivided attention, but right now she wasn't sure how to handle him.
"That was a child's dream. I didn't know enough about the world," Akari said. "You never made me feel like Waya does. You don't make my heart pound." She blushed deeply, finding it difficult to put words to her feelings. "You're Hikaru, my best friend, and I guess I can't think of you like a guy."
"A lot of guys would be offended at that," Hikaru noted idly.
"You're not," she said. "Which proves that you're not the same boy I knew. The Hikaru I knew would have snapped at me for that. You're... so serious, Hikaru."
"Akari... we all have to grow up sometime."
"But that doesn't mean we have to get sadder! I don't know what's wrong with you, but I hate to see you hurting! I don't know how to help you, or-" She felt tears gather again, and shook her head angrily. She wasn't going to do this. She had accepted that Hikaru had moved beyond her.
He put a hand on her knee, giving it a slight squeeze of affection. "Thank you, Akari," he said softly. "I wish I could tell you what happened, but I can't. It's too personal." His voice was firm, spoken in a deeper tone than she had imagined him using. His voice was changing, she noted, gradually dipping into a deeper tenor from the childish alto she had always known.
The thought was extraneous, and she dismissed it. The changes in him weren't just physical, but emotional. "Are we still friends?" she whispered. "You never used to have things too personal to talk about. You used to tell me everything."
He only had three more months of high school, and then he would be gone. Even though they were next door neighbors, she was starting to become afraid that she would never see him again. She had the feeling he would move out as soon as he had some savings, and forget to come back to his parents. It wouldn't be out of cruelty, but this new Hikaru had a focus on something else, something that didn't involve his family.
"I also used to sneak-attack you with water balloons," he said, trying to inject a note of playfulness back into the conversation. "I'm sure you don't miss that."
"I miss you. I miss being able to talk to you, and going out for ramen after a bad test. I miss going to your house and playing video games. I miss the way I could complain to you after someone made me angry. God, I even miss fighting with you." She wouldn't let him distract her.
"I'm sorry, Akari, but this is something I have to do. I'll always consider you a friend," he promised. "You know me better than anyone."
And she didn't understand a thing about his actions anymore. He had to be so lonely. "Hikaru, are you happy?" she asked, moving quickly to trap his hand with hers to keep him from pulling away. His skin was pleasantly cool against her fingers. "I mean, I know I'll never really understand why you've chosen Go, but I want to know that it makes you happy."
Finally he looked up to smile at her, meeting her eyes for the first time since they had sat down. "Happiness is not what life's about, Akari," he said. "It's finding the path we're supposed to walk, and accepting the challenges on it."
"Oh, Hikaru..." She hated hearing him talk like this, and those dratted tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
Hikaru noticed, and his expression changed to panic. "Akari - please! Don't cry!" he said, looking flummoxed, rummaging in his pockets for a tissue. "If Waya finds out I made you cry, he'll beat the crap out of me!"
That surprised a giggle from her, though it was rather watery sounding. "Like I'd cry over an idiot like you?" she sniffed.
"Hey!" he protested again, his expression contorting amusingly as he tried to decide on an appropriate response. This time her laughter was more honest, and after a moment's hesitation, he joined in, snickering. That set her off, and they ended up laughing until their sides hurt. She couldn't explain why it was so funny, but it was.
A few of the passers by looked at them oddly, and Akari realized how out of place they had to be. It took a moment, but she managed to collect herself.
Hikaru patted her on the back awkwardly. He'd never been able to handle the emotional things well. "Do you want to get a fortune?" he asked, obviously looking for a diversion from their talk.
Not really, she thought, but found herself agreeing aloud. They walked over to where a miko was standing in a small booth set aside. People were drawing lots for fortunes, and they stepped in line. The atmosphere was still awkward between them, but her heart felt more at ease than it had in months.
She went first, and Hikaru drew his number a second later. The miko turned to retrieve the fortunes, returning with two sheets of paper. Hikaru grinned as he read his. "Excellent luck!" he said, waving his fortune above his head. "I'm going to win my new shodan game!" He grinned at her, and things were okay.
She listened to him ramble about his plans for the next year without drawing attention to herself. Akari crumpled her fortune on the sly without even looking at it. The future would bring what it would. For now, she would enjoy his company, and do her best to find her own path. Her road and Hikaru's might be diverging from each other's soon, but she would have faith in him. It was the best support she could offer.
January had never been one of Amano's favorite months. He disliked the cold, and missed the sunlight. The Go tournaments, though, were held all year long, so as much as he was tempted to skip off for the winter, he had to stay.
The New Shodan Series wasn't worth that much coverage, but it was timed during a lull in the title matches, which meant a reporter always attended. It was sponsored by his magazine as a way to introducing the new pros to the fans of Go. Sometimes, years later, they would pull the old articles out and re-run them, especially for players like Touya Kouyo. It was always a fun walk down memory lane, though many of the pros didn't appreciate it.
It wasn't without apprehension that he'd arranged this game with his editors. The New Shodan series was something the magazine did as a way of getting the names of the new pros out, and didn't go on their official records. However, it was the first impression a new pro made, and it sometimes could have a lasting effect on their play.
Amano found himself looking forward to this game more than usual. He'd always found the games amusing, but this time he was genuinely excited. He wanted to see how far Shindou Hikaru go. This assignment wasn't something people generally tried to land, since it had little prestige attached to, so Amano had snatched it up, understanding that this game was one of those that would be important down the road.
As he had predicted, several pros made offers to play at the Shin Shodan series, ranging from seven dans to other title holders. Ichiryuu-kisei had offered, and Amano regretted having to turn him down. Ogata had dibs, and Amano wanted to see what the Jyuudan would do.
The experienced pros who offered to play the newcomers came in three types. One was the gentle type, who would occasionally let the shodan win if they played well. The second was the one who truly wanted to test the shodan's skills. It was the third type that was most worrisome: those who wanted to crush the shodan to put them in their proper place. Amano wasn't sure which type Ogata was, but he was sure it wasn't the first.
Ogata had already shown up, wearing a white suit. Nobody had managed to impress upon him that white after Labor Day was in poor taste. He was speaking to Ashiwara, who was wearing a heavy orange sweater that made him look peaked - or more correctly, he was tolerating Ashiwara, who was gesticulating madly. There was an expression of tried patience on his face, and Amano noted how his fingers twitched toward his breast pocket, obviously longing for a cigarette.
Shindou still hadn't arrived, but he had another fifteen minutes before he was expected. From what he'd gathered - his own impressions and through discrete conversations with Shinoda - Shindou wasn't the kind of person to be early for anything. The new shodan would arrive on time, Amano knew, but just barely.
The photographer beside him was playing with her camera, adjusting its settings in some mystic way that lowly reporters weren't allowed the secret to. Tsujiwari Reiko was new, fresh out of school, and Amano knew she was clueless about the Go world. She was just working for her paycheck, a slightly disgruntled artistic type that Amano had seen plenty of. Taking pictures of Go wasn't interesting, but it paid the rent.
He listened as Reiko cracked her gum a couple times, a bored expression on her face. She was obviously less than impressed by the gathering of Go nerds. Snap, snap, snap... He reminded himself that his dentist had cautioned him about his habit of grinding his teeth.
"Can you stop that?" he asked finally.
"Stop what?" She blinked at him, still snapping her gum.
"The gum thing," he answered.
"Huh? Oh, sorry," she said, reaching into her camera bag and pulling out a gum wrapper. She spit it into the wrapper without pretension, before glancing around for something.
"Know where a garbage can is?" she asked.
He gestured to the one across the room. It wasn't the nearest one, but it'd get her away from him for a moment so he could have a bit of quiet. Glancing around, he tried to find someone to fall into a convenient conversation with, but the lobby was pretty empty, and he wasn't rude enough to interrupt the few, quiet discussions already going on. He glanced at his watch again, noting that they had ten minutes before the photo shoot and interview was to take place.
Tsujiwari had disposed of her gum, and was on her way back. He mentally shook his head, bracing himself. He had the patience to sit through two days of Go play without flinching; surely a photographer couldn't drive him over the edge.
She came back to his side, opening her mouth to say something that would probably be inane, but then the door to the lobby slid open, and Shindou Hikaru walked in. "He's here!" Amano said, more relief in his voice than was polite.
Tsujiwari turned her head without much interest - and then she grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she started to remove her lense-cap. "He's perfect!" she said happily. "I thought it'd be another of those assignments, but this is going to be fun!"
Amano squinted at Shindou. He hadn't really thought on how the boy looked, but now that Reiko had pointed it out, he supposed he could see it. He'd foregone the usually suit, instead dressing more casually. He was dressed neatly, in a pair of dark blue pants and an equally blue sweater, but his hair was still that ridiculous blond. Shindou looked like he'd be more at home in a skateboard park than near a goban, Amano thought, watching him tug at his collar uncomfortably. He didn't have the typical geekiness etched into his face that marked many of the young Go players.
Tsujiwari didn't notice his distraction, enthralled in her own little photographer's world. She looked through her viewfinder, and the snapping of her gum (apparently she'd decided a fresh piece would be okay) was joined by the soft click of her camera. She turned the camera a couple of times, before lowering it. "He's a great subject - his face is just going to pop. And those eyes..."
"I suppose you would say his personality 'pops' too," he said with irony. He had been in the business long enough to know that "popping" was good. It meant someone stood out in an exceptional way and the photographs would turn out well. The last time Tsujiwari had been this excited was when she'd first seen Touya Akira, making many complimentary - and loud - comments on his excellent bone structure. Akira had actually seemed a bit embarrassed, though he had handled the photo shoot with aplomb.
"All Go players have personalities that pop," she retorted. "It's like being weird is a job requirement."
Amano would have argued that point. It was true the Go world had more than its fair share of eccentrics, but many pros were the kind of people who just blended into the background. The characters just stuck out more by contrast. He was willing to wager that Shindou was quickly going to gain some kind of reputation, but it remained to be seen what it would be like.
He shrugged, deciding that filling Tsujiwari in wasn't worth the time. She wasn't about to listen to anything he said. "Let's get them together," he said instead.
She grinned. "They're going to be so pretty!" she enthused.
Amano didn't dignify that with a response, choosing to pretend he hadn't heard them. Walking briskly across the room, he met Shinoda with a handshake. "How's it-" he started to ask, but Shinoda waved him quiet, nodding to Shindou and Ogata.
Shindou was greeting Ogata. The man was watching him with sharp eyes, and Shindou seemed completely oblivious to the shark-like smile that was worn on the Jyuudan's face. Instead, he started talking to the man about a game Ogata had played last week, critiquing it without concern for the pro's seniority. Ogata was taking it in good humor, for him. An eyebrow was raised when Shindou asked about the wisdom of a certain keima, pointing out that working on the lower corner of the board would have sped things up.
"Maybe it was different because you were playing, ojiisan?" he asked. "Was there something I missed?" His casual attitude was too abrasive for the normally cultured Go circle.
Everything about this boy was just plain wrong. He didn't dress or talk right, and he was oblivious to the niceties that pros observed. His arrival as a shodan would shake the establishment. It would be interesting to see who gave way first: Shindou or the traditionalists.
"Maybe, brat, you should learn some respect for your seniors," Ogata said. "I'm not going to go gently on you today."
"Wouldn't want you to," Shindou retorted. "It's no fun playing if someone lets you win. Victory is better if earned."
Amano looked at Shinoda, amazed at Shindou's sheer gall. Shinoda, who was serving as one of the match officials, shrugged a bit. "Maybe we should get going?" Shinoda suggested diplomatically.
Amano nodded, cutting in before Ogata could find a scathing retort. "I'm glad both of you gentleman are here," he said, offering a hand to Ogata. The man's skin was like ice, he noted, although his eyes were spitting fire behind his lenses. Shindou seemed to have thoroughly pissed him off. Shindou's hands were much warmer, but his eyes were just as cutting. Feeling rather like a man who'd just stepped between two dogs about to brawl, Amano spoke quickly. "How about we take a picture here, and then get to the Room of Profound Darkness?"
"The lighting's not that good in here," Tsujiwari complained, but a glare from Ogata shut her up. The shot was set up hurriedly, and soon her camera was flashing, capturing the moment for posterity. Shindou was reluctant to stand too close to Ogata, keeping a healthy distance.
Amano chalked it up to a previously unrecognized sense of self-preservation.
