In the Forests of the Night
A Hikaru no Go Ghost Story
As ever, to Imbrium. Only a little more, then it's cookie time!
Part 10a: Stars and Spears
In his short life span, Shindo Hikaru had never wondered, not even once, what it would feel like to have reality as he knew it (not to mention his stomach) turned inside out, upside down, then inverted once again, before being scooped out and laid hollow like a melon scraped clean. Quite honestly, he could have gone the rest of his mortal life without knowing.
He braced himself against the ground, gulping air desperately. I am not going to throw up on the Lord of All Evil. I AM NOT going to throw up on the Lord of All Evil. Sai's hand on his shoulder was like a bobbing buoy in the heaving motion of his mind. He let the solid weight anchor him and the dizziness subsided slightly. But when he risked another look, the effect was still the same; hundreds upon hundreds of gobans shimmered before his eyes, as if seen through a summer haze. The grid itself was an incomprehensible spider's nest of twisting lines, and the stones, an amorphous shifting of black and white.
"Problems, Shindo? Pity. We haven't even started yet, you know. Unless you want to quit and ..." though the Demon Lord left his words to trail off unfinished, the suggestion in them was enough to raise the hair on Hikaru's arms.
He didn't have to respond verbally. The whimper that found its way out probably expressed his opinion about the situation more than adequately. Sai's grip on his shoulder tightened. The nausea steadied, and the cramps in his stomach eased. Hikaru carefully kept his gaze averted and lowered. He watched Amatsu Mikaboshi through a sideways glance and avoided the goban directly in front of him.
Amatsu Mikaboshi stretched, then politely hid a yawn behind his sleeve. He picked up a black stone from his ke, tumbling it in his fingers, then tossed it back in. "It is still your turn you know."
Cold sweat beaded across Hikaru's skin. Amatsu Mikaboshi folded his arms and tilted his head. "Well? Pick up a stone."
"A ... a stone?" in reflex, Hikaru glanced toward the stone bowls. Only Sai's quick grab at the back of his kimono prevented him from losing his balance as he caught sight of the goban again. Cursing softly under his breath, Hikaru leaned forward, placing both hands on his knees as he rode out discomfort.
"Don't tell me you don't know that much. Fujiwara, I know you're a rather lax teacher, but surely your disciple knows that a Go game includes stones." Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi sighed. Hikaru's ears reddened as chuckles erupted from the ring of watchers. "Even if we won't be using the actual stones, per se -- ah, he really doesn't know anything about the Heart of the Game, does he? I don't know whether this speaks more of his ignorance or your incompetence, since you are his sensei."
"We won't be using stones?" Hikaru blushed even further when he realized he had voiced the words aloud. This time, real laughter erupted from the audienceHe had to bite his tongue in order to not retort.
"No. But you need to pick up a stone to begin," Sai's voice betrayed none of the anxiety present in the shaking tension of his grip. "That's how all Go battles start, no matter where they end up."
"End up?" as soon as the words left his mouth, Hikaru wanted to smack himself. For the last few minutes, his brain seemed incapable of any coherent speech beyond echoing whatever was spoken to him.
"This is becoming distinctly tedious; I am getting bored." Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi twirled a few fingers at Hikaru.
Hikaru ducked out of reflex. After a few blessedly agony free moments, he straightened, nervously tugging out his rumpled sleeves. By now, the snickers bubbling up from the crowd barely registered in Hikaru's consciousness.
"Hikaru, it's okay; you have control right now. Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi, being one of the most high and revered of gods, is of course honoring the rules of the game and of engagement. That means until you make your move or break a rule or someone breaks the rules in your stead, he can only use his words to taunt you or tempt you. He also cannot enter your mind, nor hurt you otherwise," Sai soothed. "It'll be all right."
"Oh but I do so look forward to when he finally makes his move." The Lord of Evil slowly licked his lips, his eyes half hooded and predatory. Hikaru wondered how long he could hold off picking up a stone. He figured that if he handled it right, he could wrangle in a few years.
"Sai ..." Hikaru mumbled the words out of the side of his mouth. He would have given almost anything to not be having this conversation in front of the entire pantheon of Japanese gods, monsters, and beings which existed where rational thought ended. "Something's wrong. I ... I still can't see the game and I feel sick. You gotta fix it somehow."
In response, Sai's fingers curled tightly into the cloth of Hikaru's kimono. "With all due respect, your lordship, surely someone as great as the Lord of Autumn Star doesn't need petty mind tricks to win?"
"Fujiwara, I'm a little insulted. If I was behind his current mental state, I'd leave a lot more damage than that you know. He wouldn't be upright, for one thing," the Lord of the Night Unending leaned back and brought his hands together in a impressive, talon flexing arch across his chest.
"Again, pardon my most unforgivable impertinence for asking, but if you're not the one ..." Sai's voice trailed off. His head bent forward slightly, and his hands unfolded his fan halfway. Hikaru recognized the signs; they were the same as the ones Sai expressed when an opponent made a slightly surprising move.
"As far as I can tell, this is the result of the scrambling he and the Lord of the Kitsune attempted earlier," The Demon Lord snickered. "Rather foolish of them, really. Seems to have backfired."
"Hikaru?" Sai turned toward the crowd. His fingers tightened on his fan. "Osusuki." he hissed.
"Yes, it seems that a certain kitsune been very naughty," Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi shook a finger mockingly. "Don't worry, he will be punished. You all will be. Perhaps in a few moments, actually. Pick up a stone, Shindo. It won't take long."
Hikaru twisted uncomfortably as he caught the assenting murmur of the crowd. His hearing wasn't quite as supernaturally keen as most in the gathering, but some of the comments were painfully audible ... and familiar. Man, I never thought a crowd of beasties and gods could sound so much like the insei gossip circles.
"Ignore them, Hikaru," Sai said. "Look at it this way, once you get through tonight, no crowd will ever bother you again."
Hikaru felt a brief burst of gratitude flicker through him. Sai hadn't said "if".
But how can he still be so confident? I can't even see the game on the board!
Hikaru looked to the crowd again, but Osusuki was nowhere to be seen. The audience members who bothered to return his gaze seemed to do so half heartedly; yawns were being hidden behind fans and many of the deities were talking amongst themselves instead of paying attention. A few creatures had even nodded off, their arms, legs, and wings sagging. Directly in front of him, a large catlike creature was grooming itself, its back to the dais in an obvious feline gesture of disgust. Next to it, an elephantine deity was picking its nose with a sinuous purple tongue, apparently finding more enjoyment in doing that than in the events taking place. Other creatures were examining the state of their claws, picking at the space between their fangs, or polishing their assorted carapaces. The difference between the atmosphere that had accompanied Sai's challenge and his -- Hikaru ran a shaking hand through his hair, feeling the familiar pang of helpless anger. They're not taking me or my game seriously ...
All those around him, judging him, finding him wanting -- his nightmare squared within a world that was a nightmare itself.
Seeming to read his expression, Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi raised an eyebrow. "What did you expect? The game is just a formality. I know it. Your sensei knows it. Everyone here knows it. But, seeing as to how you are taking an abysmally long time accepting," the Lord of All Evil languidly drew a circle in the air with a finger, and a cup of tea appeared, "I hope you don't mind if I take the opportunity to have some tea before the bloodshed starts. Would you like one?"
Hikaru goggled. The Ruler of Everlasting Darkness, Mr. I-am-a-Capital-Badass, is having a tea break. In the middle of playing me for my soul, he is actually having a tea break ... and offering me a cup. His head shook numbly, as something in his mind clicked to a stop.
"Are you certain? The delicate flavor provides a most unique contrast to the, shall we say, rougher aspects of what's ahead." Amatsu Mikaboshi swirled the contents gently, then blew slightly at the rising steam. It was such an ordinary act, one that Hikaru saw in his everyday life back at home.
Home ... Hikaru's hands curled together tightly.
With a seemingly casual smirk, the Lord of All Evil brought the cup to his lips. " I should inform you that I doubt I will feel very patient after I finish my cup. Though the rules of engagement state that I may not do anything to you until you move ..."
The Demon Lord tilted his head toward Sai and Torajiro.
Hikaru gritted his teeth. Anger flared, thick and hot.
"We agreed to play a game," he said. Sai shook his shoulder in warning, but he ignored it. "So I'm gonna play! You don't need to threaten anyone. And it's a VALID game, so treat it like one!"
"Yes, you're one to talk about proper behavior," the Lord of All Evil made a small, clicking noise with his tongue. "I would just like to be done with this farce. Pardon me if I don't think you're a challenge, but shouldn't you be used to this reaction by now?"
Amatsu Mikaboshi took another long sip of his tea. "I'm almost done," he remarked as he lowed his cup.
"Hikaru ..." Sai shook him again.
"Sai, I'm going to need your help to play." Hikaru kept his voice low, his eyes never leaving the Demon Lord. He still trembled, but for once it was from neither cold nor fear. "You're going to have to help me see. Or at least help me place the stones. Maybe -- maybe we can play Blind Go."
"Help ... help you place the stones? In Blind Go?" Sai drew backward, his expression almost comically bewildered. "Me?"
"Yeah. Y'know, just calling moves out like Black 7-11. White 4-3. Like that, remember? Besides, I think you owe me a couple of games." Hikaru was surprised to find he could still grin even if the expression didn't hold much humor. In fact, it hurt just the slightest bit.
"But Hikaru ... the Heart of the Game ..." Sai glanced away. "I would place the stones for you -- please believe me, I would. But Hikaru ..." He stopped, his hands twisting the fan.
"What? Is it that no stones thing?" Hikaru gulped. Okay, so I have no idea how it's supposed to be a Go game without stones, but ... Hikaru watched as his mentor bowed his head. "What is it? What aren't you telling me?"
Sai remained silent, his gaze to the ground. Long, stomach churning seconds passed.
"In the Heart of the Game, you must make your own moves," Torajiro's voice nearly made Hikaru give himself whiplash as he turned in surprise. Trapped in the depths of his own rather angsty problems, he had forgotten the Go saint was there. Torajiro's tone was flat, almost trancelike. He looked at Hikaru, but didn't seemed to see him. "No one can help you there. You must play alone."
There was something in the way Torajiro spoke, something that went past sadness, past grief, past the point of pain. Hikaru had to look away.
"Torajiro?" Sai rose to his feet. He glanced from Hikaru to Torajiro then back again, clearly torn between protecting one deishi and coming to the aid of the other. Hikaru wasn't quite sure what he, himself, wanted. Despite the warning gurgle in his stomach, he caught Sai's gaze and inclined his head toward Torajiro.
"So the little saint squeaks up," Amatsu Mikaboshi said. "Go on, then, tell little Shindo-kun your impressions of playing me. Wasn't it fun? And that's without the ridiculous handicap Fujiwara gave me, which is now Shindo's burden."
Torajiro did not make a single sound in reply nor did he move. His silence and his stillness, however, were answers in themselves.
"Or tell him why he can't play Blind Go. He seems to think that it's his eyes that are the problem." Amatsu Mikaboshi sipped delicately from his cup. "I take it that he hasn't checked the state of his mind after the pleasant little encounter he had with me earlier."
Hikaru stiffened. Actually, he hadn't tried to actively picture any other past games, not with the present one looming so large in his thoughts, but now that he tried to think ...
No. Shock made him bite deep into his bottom lip. The pain barely registered in the wake of his terror. No.
It was like losing grasp of a language, as if he had suddenly forgotten how to read, as if all the hiragana, katakana, and kanji had become merely a collection of dark brush strokes in his head, without meaning, without sense. Only the faintest hint of what the connections should mean lingered, enough for him to know that the world no longer made sense without the reference. They're gone ...
My games, Sai's games ... oh God. Without them, what am I?
"Nothing. Sai-- there's nothing at all," with his head down and chin tucked to his chest, Hikaru could barely hear his own voice.
"Hikaru?" Sai startled query hung heavy in the air. He stepped backward, his lips tightening. "What do you mean?"
Hikaru clutched at his sleeves, twisting them. Even when he hadn't been able to see the game, he had held onto the core belief that that he could find away around it, that Sai could place the stones or clear up the visual disturbance, that all the other details would fall into place. He hadn't considered that his very ability to play the game would be warped. "The memories. It's l-like I never played. Your games are gone."
The violet eyes watching him blinked, the pupils growing unfocused for a moment, before sharpening.
"I am so glad you talked me into this, Fujiwara. And here I thought I would have to fight for his soul." Amatsu Mikaboshi remarked.
Hikaru swallowed, wincing at the dryness in his throat.
"I have finished my tea," long, elegant hands set the tea cup in the air, where it floated, suspended.
From around them came a dry, whispering sound of innumerable feet, shuffling. A low susurration stirred the air, as if something large and ponderous had just taken a deep breath. Hikaru tensed as dark eyes narrowed in the too perfect face, and the bow shaped lips tightened, outlining the faintest hint of a fang underneath.
"I ... err... I'm..." He spluttered. "I am ..." I'm scared to play...
The world juddered to a sudden stop as he registered the thought. Though he had been scared most of the night, it had been a concrete thing -- an expected reaction to a world which could devour his very soul. But to be scared of the game itself -- he had been nervous countless times before a game, certainly, and he had lost his nerve while in play more than he wanted to admit, but he had never felt a terror that ran so deep that his very bones ached . I'm scared. Really knee crossing, wet myself, hand shaking scared ...
"Haven't you always wanted to see how you really play on your own? Now you're truly free of your sensei's shadow. Now you have your chance." Amatsu Mikaboshi leaned forward. "Just pick up a stone."
Pick up a stone? Hikaru's hand opened, but his arm muscles remained frozen, heavy, unable to reach out. Sai ... what do I do? I don't remember any games! I don't remember how to play! What do I do?
Sai's expression remained shuttered and unreadable, though the half opened fan seemed to indicate he was thinking furiously.
"Show us the glory of your own Go, unclouded by that of your mentor."
Sai! Do I pick up a stone? Should I? Hikaru stared at his hands, feeling slightly betrayed by his body. He was aware that some part of him was screaming to grab a stone, come what may.
He didn't move. Couldn't move. Couldn't pla ---
"Loser!" the word broke over him like a crushing wave. His muscles suddenly unlocked, and he skittered backward, not stopping until his back hit a wall of rough silk. Sai. The ghost was shaking as badly as he was. "Loooseeeeer, looseeeeer!"
"Fujiwara no deishi," Sugawara no Akitada exploded into scrabbling motion from his sprawling position. Just like he had forgotten Torajiro's presence until the Go saint spoke, Hikaru had ignored the former imperial tutor as well. He wished he could still do so now.
The ghost scratched fiercely against the unyielding wood of the dais with his torn nails, pulling himself crablike towards Hikaru. Sai immediately crouched, his eyes narrow and his mouth in a thin line. Hikaru was not at all shocked when he caught a glimmer of a sword at the ghost's side. Sugawara no Akitada stopped abruptly.
"Fujiwara no Sai no deishi," the ancient Go tutor's words held a odd, almost sing-song cadence to them. Hikaru found he could not look long into the wasted eyes. It was like traveling down some strange, tumbling staircase, with madness threatening at every step. "You are a deishi of a loser, a loser of a deishi, you are!"
Sugawara no Akitada laughed. The sound reminded Hikaru of rough water over stones, grating, scraping, and fierce. "You are the deishi of one who loses, one who lost, one who is lost. Fujiwara no Sai, the loser, the quitter, the one of the lame, but he still played me, all the same. He still played, played me, and he could not win. He knew! He still played. And you are the same."
"Oh just be quiet," Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi flicked a finger in Sugawara no Akitada's direction.
The ancient go tutor shrieked shrilly, his body contorting in spine wrenching convulsions. With another quick gesture from the immaculate hand, the ghost was choked into silence; his mouth opened and shut like a freshly gutted fish, and his lips strained wide in a rictus of agony. Yet, no sounds emerged from his tortured throat. The silence made it worse. Unlike his reaction to Torajiro, Hikaru found himself unable to look away.
"Hmm. You may be right after all. This torture thing is getting a little cliché. " Amatsu Mikaboshi brushed off his hands. Sugawara no Akitada collapsed into a broken, mewling heap. "I'll have to come up with something new. And I know JUST the people to try it on."
Hikaru stared at sprawled, whimpering form of Sugawara no Akitada, then brought his gaze back to Sai. The ghost had picked up his fan and folded it. Sai's head was turned toward the goban, and for the first time, there was no joy in how he studied the game. Torajiro was slumped over, his eyes closed, but the haunted expression in his face was all too apparent.
Hikaru could have chuckled at the irony. Haunted. All three ghosts were haunted. So much pain for the sake of a game, more than a thousand years worth ...
And now he, too, was back at the beginning again, without Sai's knowledge, without any defenses -- practically blind to the very thing that condemned them all and as hopelessly trapped as any of the three ghosts. The grid of the goban might as well have been bars to a cage. No wonder I'm scared ...
We're tied to each other, but how? Why?
Blood and tears.
It all started when I saw blood and tears on the goban ...
"Fujiwara no deishi," Sugawara no Akitada keened in a voice much like the wind through the winter reeds. "Fujiwara no deishi. "
Blood and tears. A curse a thousand years in the making.
"Fujiwara no deishi ..."
I didn't want to play in the beginning.
He hadn't like being driven by another's obsession, hated being forced to finish something he did not begin.
"Pick up a stone, Shindo Hikaru."
I don't want to play now. He knew this as surely as he knew his name. I don't want to play, not now, not ... alone ...not when I don't know if I can play.
But ...
He straightened into the proper playing position, shutting his eyes tightly so that the goban was blocked from his view. Though his chest tightened at the exclamations of doubt from the audience, his hand dropped down to his side, fumbling toward the Go ke. The smooth shapes of the stones felt cold against his fingers. Cage or not. Curse or not.
They still played. Torajiro. Sai. Blood and tears.
He pulled out a single stone. He held the rounded edge between his thumb and index finger for one moment, then performed the familiar flick.
He opened his eyes. And my hands still remember how to hold the stones .
"So be it." As Amatsu Mikaboshi spoke, the world around Hikaru started to curl away, like a picture being rolled up from both ends. The goban and the dais faded out from beneath him, and a vast expanse of ash-like dust unfurled instead, flattening the lush greenery of the kitsune forest into a bleak monotony of grey, like a snowfall of shadows. A weak, milk-pale light flickered above the newly formed landscape and its ribbonlike frailty resembled a washed out parody of an aurora.
Whatever he had expected, it hadn't been this. Of the crowd, of the ghosts, of even the Lord of Darkness, there was no sign. Grey ash swirled around his knees.
A sudden white hot heat in his hand made him yelp and drop the stone in his hand. It fell into the dust, glowing brighter, and brighter, before it suddenly shattered, emitting a sharp, ringing sound. Hikaru surged to his feet as hundreds upon hundreds of tiny lights winked into existence and began to whirl around him, enveloping him in a shimmering column. It felt as if someone was spraying him with uncomfortably warm water, but before he could protest, the bits of brightness faded.
Looking down, Hikaru found that he was now dressed in a suit of heavy samurai armor. It reminded him of the costume Mitani had worn during the Go Club's school play. A quick touch to his head confirmed that instead of his normal bangs or the annoying loops of hair, he now had a helmet on top of his head. When he dropped his hands to his side, something suspiciously like a sword hilt met his grasp.
"What the He -- where the Hel-- IS THIS HELL?!" He blurted. "Whaaaaaa?"
Hikaru backed away as a dark haze began to gather in front of him. Within moments, the smoky form had condensed into the solid shape of the Lord of All Evil. And to Hikaru's unbounded horror, Amatsu Mikaboshi appeared almost all too real, especially when cast against the phantom like atmosphere of the grey plains. His shadow rippled strangely, almost as if it was alive, and there was a odd glow to his armor, almost as if it was repelling light as much as reflecting it. His eyes, though, remnants of a time when the universe knew nothing of life or light, were the same.
Without a word, the Lord of Evil unsheathed his sword. The half-twilight glow that filled the grey plain drew a dull line of light down the edge of the black blade. Hikaru's eyes widened as the Lord of Hell strode forward a few steps. The very tip of the katana came to rest above his heart. Even given the protection of his armor, an icy chill spread through Hikaru at the point of contact.
Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi leaned forward, just a little. The sword tip dug in ever so lightly, but it was the smile, spread thin like skin over something half starved, that made Hikaru stumble.
"Welcome to the Heart of the Game, Shindo Hikaru."
continued in Part 10b . . .