Author's Notes: Here it is! The first chapter! Please note that this is not meant to be a self-insert story. I like the name Midou-kun, that's all. ^^;
Also, I am quite aware of the fact that the part with the ball falling into the correct pattern with the stones is a really long shot. I know it's stupid, and unrealistic, and retarded. Believe me, it was as painful for me to right as it is for you to read. Sorry, but I have to carry the storyline along somehow.
Oh, yes, and I don't own Hikaru no Go, either. Try to contain your disappointment ;)
The last day of summer had not been a disappointment. The sun's smiling rays preformed their final duty with diligent joy, spreading comfort and warmth to the city of Tokyo. It was days like these, Shindou thought to himself, not impervious to the natural beauty of the day, that made him almost wish he wasn't a professional Go player. Days like these made him wish he could put down the stones, just for once, and waste his time outside, like any normal child was doing, ringing laughter through the thick Tokyo atmosphere. But, as Hikaru looked at the board in front of him, the complex position presented to him, he knew they were hollow wishes, empty hopes. The most beautiful day of the warmest summer of the most bountiful year could no longer rival the familiar play of black against white, winding itself up the field of wood that was a Goban, woven together with simple rules and profound logic. The soft tap of the slate and shell pieces were more beautiful to his ears than the softest bird's notes, the rich scent of Kaya wood more appetizing then the first flowers of spring. The game of Go, more of an art form than a game, to Shindou's experienced mind, had changed him; from an ignorant, brash child to a silent adult, radiating layers of self-control and wisdom. In turn, he had done much to change the game, spearheading the anticipated new wave of players that would change the axis the Go world spun upon, and threatening to be the center of it when he reached the limit of his potential. It was a strong relationship, a deep bond that would take much to be broken, and was being strengthened regularly, testing his dedication to his chosen art. Sai's disappearance had been, perhaps, the strongest threat to Hikaru's ongoing career, and now that he fully understood Sai's position in the path to the Hand of God, perhaps the strongest guarantee to the continuation of his destiny.
A gentle breeze from the outside flew in the open window, blowing Hikaru's golden bangs into his line of vision. He gently positioned them behind his ears with one hand, granting him a full view of the Tsumego presented in front of him. It was a complex situation, involving the whole board. Touya Akira had first presented it to him, challenging him, a sport they often partook in nowadays. Each tried to outdo the other, proving their superiority and vying for the final, unreachable goal. Akira had been at a standstill to this problem, after trying to master it for weeks. He had finally presented it to Shindou, reluctantly. Akira was of the opinion that the lower-left was the key to black's eventual victory in the position, since building a thickness there would allow the player to draw the rest of the white stones towards it. Touya's father had assured them that, this being a Yose problem, would yield only one possible solution, and they would know it when they found it. Confident in Akira's abilities, Hikaru had tried finding the key in other parts of the board, particularly the fairly simple position in the center. If played correctly, black could create a Ko threat strong in enough in the center to be used in conjunction with the easily-attained Ko in the top, to create a chain reaction that would lead black to an eventual victory either way, despite the lost territory in the abandoned lower-left. However, hours in front of the Goban, in the silent room of the Japanese Go Institute, had not yielded the position's secrets to Hikaru. He dropped the stone in his fingers, letting it fall back into the bamboo bowl at his feet, and hung his head.
"I have nothing," he whispered softly to the Goban, the traditional line of resignation. Getting up from his knees, he preformed a final bow of respect towards the board, which had so far proved to be his superior, and walked out of the room, leaving the indoor shoes by the door. A short walk would clear his mind, and he would continue his day-long battle with the Tsumego. He entered the elevator, mechanically entering the button for the ground floor, his mind still struggling with the simple shape of the stones in the center. He knew that one move, one simple, brilliant move, would allow black to create a Ko threat that could not be ignored. He tried entering Sai's frame of mind, a tactic he turned to only when a better one did not present itself, to try and remember what the thousand-year-old Go master would have done. Sai was never afraid of sacrificing useless stones, soldiers that had preformed their duty. However, in the position his center was in, allowing any capture of black's stones would give the white group stretching across the side its much-needed second eye, which would destroy the chance black still had of making it through Yose.
The elevator doors opened, and the noise that was cloaked over the main lobby of the popular building pulled Hikaru's concentration away from Go. Noise seemed to filter away from the path that he walked. His face was very well known. Despite his seemingly reckless Beginner Dan Series match-up against Touya Meijin, he was considered among the best young Pros his age, only one Akira-shaped step away from number one. Voices turned to a soft whisper as he passed, and he heard his being mentioned several times, although usually accompanied by that of his inevitable rival, Touya Akira.
Passing through the final doors of the building finally brought quiet back into his world, allowing Hikaru to once again ponder Go. His mind, used to exploring the complicated paths of stones, reading ahead, calculating, analyzing, always keeping the rest of the board in mind, even when dealing with a local situation, considered all the possible outcomes of every fight he could ignite against the white player.
His attention was temporarily drawn as he walked past a nearby baseball diamond. A group of children, approximately his age, if not a bit younger, were busily engaged in a heated baseball game, doubtlessly enjoying the final day before the recommencement of school. The changing of seasons had lost itself on Hikaru, after becoming a Pro Go player; school was not something he had to worry himself about.
He watched with mild interest as a boy stepped up to bat, tension obvious on his face. Although Hikaru could not claim to be much of a baseball fan, the recognizable position of having all bases loaded made it clear, even to him, that this was an important bat. A good hit could net the boy's team a win, and Hikaru knew from experience how stressful a deciding move could be. The pitcher wound up, and whipped the ball towards the catcher. The batter swung desperately, a bit sloppily, and missed by a wide margin. He shook his head, raised his bat up again, and prepared himself for the second pitch. It brought the same results, and Hikaru winced at his poor technique. He shook his head, and started walking on his way. There was no chance that that kid could touch such a well-thrown ball.
Crack!
Hikaru's head whipped to the side at the earsplitting sound of wood connecting with metal. He looked just in time to see the batter drop his bat and run desperately towards first base, but even the inexperienced Hikaru could tell that a run was not necessary- it was a direct enough hit to send the baseball soaring up over the fence, landing near Hikaru's feet.
He bent down to pick it up, and froze. His eyes struggled to focus on the ground in front of him. He took a step back, and looked again at the ground in front of him. Yes, it was unmistakable. Rocks, randomly placed on the ground from high winds and careless walkers, were sprawled out on the lawn, replaying a shape that had become familiar to Hikaru that day. The unique position of the center board was neatly played out on the ground, and the baseball had landed in an empty space, wedged between two adjacent stones. It was a solution Hikaru had already tried, and found to be incorrect.
Although he could hear the children in the ballpark yelling at him to return the ball, he ignored their request, still enraptured by the amazing coincidence displayed at his feet. Finally, with a growl of frustration, one of the players, the one who had hit the home run, got up off the bench, jumped the fence, and ran up to Hikaru.
"Hey!" He growled angrily, peeved at Shindou's inconsideration. "You could have given us back that ball!"
Hikaru shook his head, barely hearing the boy's words, concentrating once again on all the possible paths of the stones. The player finally noticed Hikaru's keen concentration on the ground. He turned his head, looking at the same place. His eyes similarly flashed in recognition. "Wow…" he whispered. "What a coincidence."
Hikaru shook his head. "Not really. The answer's wrong."
The boy cocked his eyebrow. "Well, yes it is, but it still is pretty amazing." He bent down, picked up the ball, but did not return it to his team. Instead, he carried it over to the left of the stone it had been surrounding, and let it drop. "There," he said decisively. "Now it's right."
A quiet derogative snort came out of Shindou's mouth. "No, it's still not. White can now trap black in geta. Game over for black."
"Not necessarily. Look, white is in atari here. If he goes for the geta, he'll lose the corner, and the net won't work anymore. So white has to defend the atari, which means black can play the geta, and from then on…"
Hikaru did not need to listen to the rest of the boy's explanation. It was clear now where Hikaru had gone amiss in his solution. The atari that needed to be created had never occurred to Hikaru, largely in part because it brought black into a very poor, easily-cut shape that he would never allow to appear in a pro game. His vision had been clouded by his perceptions of what good shape was, a mistake he had often feared making. The boy in front of him, Hikaru did not doubt, was a pro of the highest caliber, not unwilling to play the best move, even if it offended his own perceptions of what good and bad shape was. Hikaru had not yet reached that level. Moves like those did not even cross his mind. "You…" Hikaru said, softly. "What's your name?"
The boy raised his head from the position on the grass. He looked confused, but not apprehensive. "Midou Ashitaka," he responded. "And you?"
Hikaru's brain fought to place the name, remembering all the pages of Weekly Go he'd read. One year had passed since he had passed the Pro Exam, and he hadn't paid much attention to the new Pros before that time. The boy still looked young, possibly three years younger than himself. "Shindou Hikaru. How long have you been a Pro, Midou-kun?"
Surprise registered on Ashitaka's face. "Pro? What do you mean?"
"How long ago did you pass the Pro Exam?"
"For Go?" He asked, amusement beginning to replace the confusion on his features.
"What else? That was a five-Dan Tsumego!"
The sandy haired boy burst into a fit of hilarity. "Pro? You thought I was a Pro!" Hikaru's eyes narrowed, his heart sinking. "Wow!" The boy coughed, choking on his own laughter "you must be a pretty lousy player if you think I'm good enough to be a Pro!"
"I am Shindou Hikaru, Three-Dan Pro since last year! That problem, it's… not even Touya Akira could solve it!"
The merriment instantly dissolved from Midou's face. A disgusted, almost angry look replaced it. "What an insult! You can't possibly be a Pro! That Tsumego was nothing, a cinch! Touya Akira could play circles around you!" He bent down, picked up the baseball, and angrily kicked the ground, sending the stone formation flying into the street. He heftily jumped the fence in two steps, and ran back to the playing field. Hikaru watched the boy run back, not taking a look behind him. The sting of angry tears was threatening to break loose from Hikaru's eyes, but he fought them back, continuing on his way. He replayed Midou's solution in his mind, hoping to find a flaw in its logic, some way to discredit the boy. But as Hikaru thought about its skillful, courageous path, he had to admit that both he and Akira had been thoroughly wrong in their approach to the position.
He found that he had unconsciously walked himself to the Go Salon that Akira almost always dwelled in. Climbing up the stairs to the building, he pushed open the door to the room that the games were played in. The cashier, a young lady who had treated Hikaru to the first game of his life, smiled kindly as he walked in. "Ah, Shindou-kun! Akira's in the back."
He bowed, shallowly as to not embarrass the girl. "Thank you." He walked past the rows of tables, games in progress between old men, inexperienced positions, and simple solutions playing themselves across the rows of Gobans. Hikaru could have won any game for any side in the room, and was indeed doing so mentally as he crossed the aisle of chairs and boards, but instead walked past the adults to a small hidden row, enveloped in darkness, separate from the rest of the Salon. There, the only real opponent stood, puzzling over a position that had become all too familiar to the boy.
Akira looked up from his board, an expression of joy lighting his already soft features. "Shindou-kun!" He stood up, bowed, and sat back down. Hikaru bowed likewise, and took the seat next to him. He examined the Tsumego to assure that it was the same one, took up a black stone from Akira's bowl, and placed it in the position Midou had shown him.
Silently, Akira shook his head. "Won't work, white can geta."
Without saying a word, Hikaru took a white stone, and put it diagonally adjacent to the black, initiating a common net position. Akira nodded. "Yes, that's geta now. Black can't escape."
Shindou took a stone in between his fingers, and slammed it down on the topside of another white stone, forming an empty triangle, a position that was avoided by pros like the plague. Akira snorted derisively. "Come now, Hikaru, that's a bad move if I ever saw one."
He silently continued the solution, slamming a gleaming white stone underneath his geta starter, putting black's lone soldier in Atari. He dug around for a black stone, adding another piece to the empty triangle. Akira began to insult Shindou's play further, until he saw where Hikaru was going. Although a bad shape had been formed, and black was about to lose a stone to atari, a position that would normally mean sudden death in a corner, the rest of the solution began to reveal itself through the hazy mists of his mind. White could complete the geta, capturing one of black's stones, and creating one eye, but it left black a position that was one of the best Ko threats he had ever seen. Two consecutive moves would bring white to its knees, and failure to respond to it would turn the tables towards black with the one Ko point anyways. Either way Akira looked at it, black had won. Turning from a position of vast tactical inferiority into a winning combination… the mark of someone truly gifted. "Do you see it now?" Hikaru broke his silence.
Akira nodded, dumbfounded. "Yes, it's… genius. It's pure genius, Shindou-kun."
"Thank you," Hikaru cracked a grin, "but it's not mine." Hikaru explained the story of Midou-kun, his outstandingly clear vision, and the heated exchange that had followed. When his voice stopped, Akira's expression stood dumbfounded. Hikaru grinned and resisted giggling at his rival's face.
"Well…" Akira began, after regaining his composure. "I seem to remember a similar brash young Go player come into the Go Salon and diligently best me at my own game." He winked. "Maybe there's a thousand-year old ghost possessing Midou-kun too?"
Hikaru forced himself to laugh, but in reality, Sai's disappearance still tore holes through him. The ancient player's tactics, calm demeanor, smooth voice… the memory of that last dream concerning Sai, were all things the young Pro was trying desperately to forget.
"Besides," Akira said with a sly wink. "Midou-kun was right. I can play circles around you."
Recognizing the badly concealed challenge, Hikaru forced all thoughts of Sai out of his mind. It was not out of disrespect – rather, it was what his friend would have wanted him to do. To let go, forget about the past, and focus on the moment. Sai realized his place, Hikaru thought as he preformed Nigiri, and it was about time he did too.
