Chapter 64
Hikaru couldn't wait for the day to end to get on the train to Touya residence – who knew when the former Meijin would be back and they'd have a place all for themselves like this? After some matches, the two decided to study some kifu of the recent High- Dan matches before they go to bed. Hikaru flopped down on the futon, but support his back with several pillows, until he was semi-reclining. Akira lay back against him, resting on Hikaru's chest, holding up the kifu so they could both study it. Hikaru rounded his arms around Akira's waist into an embrace. Akira seemed to be very concentrated on studying, while Hikaru couldn't help sniffling and putting kisses on Akira's silky hair, on Akira's temple, his arms squeezed Akira tightly. Hikaru recalled the lunchtalk with Waya and Isumi earlier that day. Being gay or not, I don't care, I'm doing this with Akira. When the affection became too much, he whispered into Akira's ears:
"Akira, I think I -"
Hikaru couldn't finish his sentence while Akira's laptop chimed, and an instant messenger window flashed open. Akira escaped from the embrace and headed to the the desk.
gofish: Hey Akira-kun, I want you to look at a kifu. It's a game i played recently with a friend. Thought you might find it interesting.
goforever: Hi Ogata-san. Is it very urgent? I am a little bit busy at the moment.
gofish: Trust me, you'll find this interesting.
goforever: I have it now. Any handicaps?
gofish: no. just 6.5 komi.
Akira wondered who Ogata's opponent had been. He did not know many people who could play Ogata without a handicap, and of those, Akira did not think Ogata would refer to any of them as "a friend." Probably someone from NetGo, then.
Akira skimmed quickly over the opening moves. Ogata had definitely been playing Black; Akira had played him more often than anyone other than his father, so Ogata's openings were as familiar to Akira as Ogata's precise handwriting. A grin tugged at the corners of Akira's mouth when he noticed Ogata's keima at 11-6 and 12-4. Ogata had played a very similar move against Akira before, and he'd used it to set up a trap. White hadn't fallen for the trap, though. Instead, White had responded two hands later with a countermove that effectively neutralized Ogata's trap. Akira's pulse quickened as his eyes flickered to the mid-game exchange. White wasn't merely holding his own with Ogata-san, he was forcing Ogata to respond to his moves. Ogata's advantage in playing first had quickly evaporated under White's brilliant, aggressive assault.
Akira frowned; there was something odd about White's fascinating moves. His underlying style indicated a classical approach to the goban. It was as if White had studied primarily kifu from an era when a strong emphasis on early domination required that the player with White also play aggressively from the opening moves. With modern komi, however, logic dictated that White ought merely play conservatively to protect his or her lead, especially against a powerful opponent like Ogata-san.
White hadn't. In fact, Akira saw several daring exchanges on the kifu which made him suspect that White was deliberately challenging Black, forcing Ogata to place brilliant, decisive hands in response. Yet Ogata's hands weren't enough to hold off White: White knew how to use modern joseki as well, and he'd fused it seamlessly with his classical style. The result was play that was simultaneously beautiful and utterly devastating. And very familiar.
As Akira was still lost in his thoughts, Hikaru had slid behind him, hugged him from the back, his lips lightly brushed against Akira's nape and asked. "What took you so long, Akira?"
A sudden recollection flashed across Akira's mind like an epiphany at the goban, a remark one of his father's students had made at a study group: And what if Shuusaku knew modern joseki?
Hikaru.
Shuusaku.
s a i.
Akira felt his hands trembling as he turned the laptop to let Hikaru look at the game record. After some minutes of silence, Akira turned to Hikaru to see an equal trembling face. Hikaru was so much in a shock he couldn't even move a finger, he stood as though he were shock-frozen.
It could not be...
goforever: You were playing s a i.
gofish: yes, and he beat me by five and a half moku. he was playing nasty.
Akira swallowed, his mind a jittery rush of questions.
goforever: But...but this is simply impossible...Where did you find him?
gofish: in ichigaya.
goforever: I'm sorry, I don't understand.
gofish: s a i is a man named fujiwara no sai. i found him floating in the ichigaya canal.
goforever: In the canal? Ogata-san, please don't make jokes like that. This is not possible.
Hikaru said Sai was a ghost!
gofish: i'm quite serious, Akira-kun. fujiwara suffers from severe retrograde amnesia. he doesn't remember anything from before the accident.
goforever: The accident? He's hurt?! What happened? Is he okay? Is he in the hospital?
gofish: calm down. the accident – and we don't really know what happened, the doctors can't figure it out – was some time ago. his condition is stable, and he's not in the hospital. fujiwara's perfectly healthy, other than his memory.
Akira exhaled slowly, trying to regain some of his composure. Given the state Hikaru was in, he had to be calm, even though the whole story simply didn't make sense to him at all. Akira knew, though, that Ogata would not lie about something that serious. Not to him. Also, White's play in the kifu bore the mark of s a i as surely as any masterpiece bore its maker's name. It was not something that could be forged.
gofish: you still there?
goforever: Yes, I'm sorry. It's just a lot to think about. May I ask more about S—Fujiwara-san's condition?
gofish: i suppose it couldn't hurt. what do you want to know?
goforever: You said you found him in the canal. Did he almost drown?
gofish: it doesn't seem that way. he would have had fluid in his lungs or other physical damage. he was dazed, though. maybe he hit his head and that caused the amnesia, but nothing showed up in the scans.
goforever: I see. I'm glad he isn't suffering from additional injuries. What exactly does "severe retrograde amnesia" mean?
gofish: it means that his memories from before the accident are mostly gone. some things he's completely forgotten, so he has to be re-educated about them, like how to use a cell phone or a ticket machine. other things, he remembers, but he needs a trigger first.
gofish: for example, he didn't remember that he knew how to play go until he saw a goban and just automatically started putting down stones. i had even asked him if he played go before that, and he said no.
goforever: But he played beautifully in this game. How can he play so well if he's suffering from mental injuries?
gofish: he doesn't have any difficulty forming new memories or learning new things. he's not mentally impaired, per se... other than not remembering very much. he doesn't even know how old he is or what he does.
Akira blinked at the laptop screen. s a i-Fujiwara-san - didn't remember his own family? Like... he didn't remeber Hikaru?
goforever: But where has he been living, then?
gofish: he's been living with me. it was a convenient arrangement.
Akira's eyebrows shot up. Ogata had lived alone as long as Akira could remember, and Ogata had always seemed rather determined to continue in that manner. Akira squirmed, recalling the particular dinner that his mother had cheerfully offered to introduce Ogata to "a very nice young lady." Ogata had almost choked on his soup.
So if Ogata was allowing this Fujiwara to live with him, Ogata obviously believed that he was indeed s a i. Yet Ogata had kept silent about Fujiwara. It didn't sound as if the accident had happened last week, either; the way Ogata referred to Fujiwara suggested long familiarity.
goforever: How long has he been living with you? You said he's been like this for a long time.
There was a pause.
gofish: it's been a while.
That stung more than Akira liked to admit. Akira closed his eyes, thinking of his father stubbornly sitting in front of that goban with the bowl of white stones always on the opposite side, and wondered how Ogata could be so cold. If Ogata hadn't told Akira about s a i, then he definitely hadn't told his sensei.
goforever: Ogata-san. Why are you telling me this now? You want something.
gofish: suspicious, aren't we? but i'll get to the point: it's for fujiwara. the two of us have always suspected that there is a connection between shindou and s a i. given how little Shindou like me these days, i doubt it's a good idea if i talk to him about this.
goforever: You want me to ask Shindou about s a i.
gofish: if shindou was fujiwara's student, then he probably knows some personal details about him. shindou trusts you. he'll talk to you.
Akira bit at his lower lip, hesitating as he cast a wary glance Hikaru. Hikaru was still standing in his shock-frozen state as before.
goforever: I'll ask Shindou, for Fujiwara-san's sake. But why you didn't say anything sooner?
gofish: ...later. we can discuss this in person. i'm sending you a picture of fujiwara to show to shindou. see if he recognizes it. text my phone afterwards, please. good night.
goforever: I'll do it. But...Ogata-san...
gofish: Yes?
goforever: how do you know...Shindou's here?
gofish: Oh, come on, Akira-kun. Who do you think you can fool with those hickies all over your neck and collarbone? Seriously, a little discretion wouldn't hurt.
###
Akira downloaded the image to his desktop and then clicked it open. He stared in disbelief. There was no way that could be the right picture. The beaming man in the picture looked like a college student, not a battle-hardened go veteran who could defeat his father.
Akira sighed in exasperation and turned his attention back to the picture. Fujiwara had unusually long black hair that fell past his hips. He was standing in front of a fish tank, his fingers splayed out in a "V" sign as he posed for the camera. Hikaru never described Sai's appearance in his story, but Akira developed an image of an much older man with age-wizened hands, and piercing eyes like his father's. Akira tried to imagine Fujiwara sitting across from his father at the goban. His smiling face just didn't match the fierce, brilliant play in the kifu Ogata had sent him. Akira knew better than to judge a player by his or her appearance, especially since Akira himself had often been underestimated for that very same reason.
Akira turned back to Hikaru, intending to express his disbelief in the whole story, when he heard Hikaru mumbling.
"That's Sai."
Hikaru was still trembling, Akira noted numbly as the other boy continued ranting. He had never seen Hikaru in such a state. He reached out a tentative hand for Hikaru's shoulders, hugged him and guided him back down on the futon. He ran his hands on Hikaru's back, trying to calm Hikaru down. They stayed quiet for a long moment, before Hikaru began to talk.
"I don't understand what Ogata's up to, but Sai has always been dead. Akira, Sai was a ghost. This whole story just doesn't make sense at all...but that person in the picture. That's Sai! I've been with him more than two years, I know his face and his smile."
Akira stared at the empty room, also trying to make sense of the night's events. His heart broke into bits seeing the face of his beloved one soaked in sorrow.
"Hikaru, I don't understand what's going on either. But I'm here for you, whatever happens. You are not alone. You are never alone! Let's see Ogata and this Fujiwara as soon as tomorrow to clear this up, okay?" Akira said while leading Hikaru back down on the futon. He didn't want to make Hikaru more upset, but the matter had to be resolved.
Hikaru nodded. He was exhausted from the events of the evening. He wrapped his arms around Akira and buried his face in Akira's chest. A few minutes later, his breathing evened out and his frame relaxed.
Akira let out a long breath. He didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow, but somehow things were going to work out, things must have to work out.
