In the Forests of the Night

by Murinae

Nearly a thousand years ago, Fujiwara no Sai died for the love of a game. But pasts don't always stay in the past, and even ghosts can be haunted too ... as Hikaru is about to find out.

14. 10b: With their tears

In the Forests of the Night
A Hikaru no Go Ghost Story

Part 10b: With their tears ...

He must have stared at the Lord of the Autumn Star for a long time. At least, it had to have been long enough for his mouth to go dry. Long enough for his muscles to cramp from staying in one position. Long enough that his skin no longer registered the touch of the dark sword against his armor.

For his part, Amatsu Mikaboshi remained silent, his sword point at Hikaru's heart, cold eyes never blinking. Then, as if response to some unknown signal, the Demon Lord's posture shifted, lithe muscles rippling under the golden armor as his entire body tautened. It was a stance Hikaru was all too familiar with, one he saw, night after night, right before Sai cut him in half. He had a feeling that this time, however, the action would not be a symbolic one.

"Draw your sword."

The clipped, precise tone forbade anything but instant, instinctive obedience. However, the blade wouldn't move, no matter how forcefully Hikaru tugged at it. He released the hilt, wiping his sweaty palms against the rough edges of his armor. "H-hang on ... I c-can't s-seem to get it out ..."

"You pass?"

"What?! I'm n-not pas--" No time. No warning. Mid-word, the dark katana arced back, outline blurring in the air as it head straight for his head.

Something shoved him hard. A metallic shriek rent the air even as he crashed face first into the dust. Choking, spluttering, Hikaru scrambled upright scrubbing frantically at his eyes.

Sai! The ghost towered above him, sword unsheathed, arms trembling in a hilt to hilt lock with the Demon Lord.

"Forgive me, your majesty, but he did not pass." Sai threw all of his slight weight forward, managing to gain a small measure of space, enough so that Hikaru could bolt to relative safety. Something familiar stirred Hikaru's memory. Something about light, and stars, and swords.

Within heartbeats, however, Amatsu Mikaboshi regained the lost ground. Hikaru lurched out of the way as Sai crashed to his knees, seeming to keep hold of his own blade by the thinnest of miracles.

SAI! Using both hands, Hikaru yanked at his sword; the metal refused to slide the slightest inch out of the sheath.

Gottadosomethinggottadosomethinggottasavesai!

"Your lordship! I am merely fulfilling my duty. I am his sensei. I must guide him. Follow him. This bond, this duty was given to me by Kami-sama himself. Are you saying that wish to go against .... " Sai's words rushed together frantically, then slowed. "If I am wrong, then I willingly take my punishment." The violet eyes lowered submissively.

SAI! Giving up on the sword, Hikaru raked his hands across his armor, searching for something else to help. DAMN! It FIGURES that I'd have a sword that doesn't work! he howled mentally, angry beyond the ability to give his thoughts voice.

To Hikaru's immense surprise and relief, Amatsu Mikaboshi merely narrowed his eyes. Abruptly, the dark sword twisted, sending Sai's katana to slide off to the side and causing the ghost to tumble forward at the sudden release of pressure. The ease with which the god performed the maneuver -- he could've done that at any time. Sai regained his footing relatively quickly, but fortunately for the ghost, the Lord of Darkness didn't resume his attack.

Sai, Hikaru acknowledged, would have lost if he did. Sai slowly backed away, his weapon held point down and to his side. Hikaru nearly bit through his tongue as he fully took in the ghost's appearance. Instead of his usual robes, Sai was now dressed in the same kind of armor that Hikaru found himself in. Hikaru edged closer to his friend, stopping only when his arm brushed the hard edge of Sai's shoulder guard.

Sai did not acknowledge the contact. "I am here to ensure it is a fair game, your majesty."

"And if it's not?" Amatsu Mikaboshi asked. A corner of that perfect mouth quirked upwards.

Hikaru nearly lost his balance as Sai's blade gracefully swung up to rest at the unprotected point just under his chin. His jaw would have dropped open as well, but luckily the helmet's chin strap held it in place.

"Play him fairly, your majesty, or play him not at all."

"I see." If anything, the Demon Lord looked even more amused, almost as much as the time when Hikaru had first encountered him, back at the beginning of the feast. "Sacrifice your own deishi? I wouldn't have thought you to be that ruthless."

"If he will not, then I will," another voice joined them." It will be a fair game."

Hikaru peered around Sai. Torajiro ...

Sai took a step forward, although he remained within a blade's distance of Hikaru. "Torajiro! This is not your fight. This place -- it's not for you."

Torajiro bowed politely at his mentor. "I have been to Hell. This place ..." his lips compressed into a thin line, "can hardly be worse."

For his part, Amatsu Mikaboshi didn't even bother to acknowledge or dismiss the Go saint. He merely turned toward Hikaru again. The demon blade tilted upwards, pausing at where the pulse throbbed heavily in his throat. Hikaru heard a stirring of air, and the faint flutter of movement came from somewhere just off to his side, but neither Sai nor Torajiro tried to stop the Demon Lord.

"Draw your sword."

Eyes fixed on the dark blade before him, Hikaru's hand automatically strayed toward his own hilt. Fingers fumbling at the braided surface, he tried yet again to tug the sword from the sheath. It wouldn't move. It's STUCK! SHIT!

"No," a hand suddenly covered his fingers, stilling the attempt. "Don't make a move. Not until you're ready," Sai said.

"But ..." Throwing both Sai and Torajiro a wild look, Hikaru's heartbeat stuttered, certain that one or both would soon be screaming in pain. "What about ...him?" He jerked his chin towards Amatsu Mikaboshi.

As if in answer, the Lord of Night Unending merely tilted his head to the side, never taking his eyes from Hikaru's face. He's not going to threaten us? Hikaru blinked.

Realization pulsed through him, growing stronger with each heartbeat. He doesn't need to .... The relaxed air of casual cruelty had vanished, as had the aura of the cold cultivation, and the consistent, poison filled taunting. The katana never moved. Hikaru felt as if he was falling, plummeting top over tail into a chasm that had neither a beginning nor an end.

"It's about stars ... and he's not ...." A tiny voice, from a long forgotten night. Defiant. Knowing, in a way that Hikaru had not understood until that moment.

And he thought he had known fear before. Fear, terror, and horror were pitifully inadequate to describe what he felt now.

"The game is in play." The sword drifted upward, the thin blade caressing the vulnerable skin of Hikaru's cheek. The soft hairs near the swell of his jawline tingled. " And there is only one end now."

"Each move has a price here," Sai voice burred loudly in Hikaru's ear, though Hikaru was certain that the ghost was merely whispering. The grip on his fingers strengthened to the point of pain. "No matter what he does, don't make a move until you know what you're doing."

Sai ... The hovering blade followed the movement of Hikaru's throat as he swallowed thickly. When have I ever known what I'm doing?!

"Not until you know." Sai's crushing grip tightened even further.

Hikaru's eyes never left the dark blade before him. He could barely nod his head to Sai; nearly every muscle in his body had bunched tight. What does he mean, not until I know? Know what? That I am a hopelessly outmatched idiot for challenging a god?

"Do you pass?" The sword point edged closer, millimeter by millimeter. The absolute control behind the grip was just as terrifying as if the Demon Lord had swung wildly at his head. "You know now what you face. What you lack."

I'm going to die, aren't I?

Strange, how he had spent nearly two years with a ghost, and never once thought of his own death ... or what came after. A bitter taste filled his mouth and the beat of his heart rose a deafening crescendo. The dark blade drew back.

"No," he whispered. "I don't pass. I'll play."

The Lord of Evil's smile was a cold, cutting thing. The blade dropped forward. Again, there was no time to think. No time to duck. No time to flee.

But there was no firelike flash of pain either. No arcing trail of blood, laying bare his throat. Instead, Amatsu Mikaboshi swept his sword to his own forehead, in a mocking half-salute.

Hikaru could only swallow dryly. His right hand clutched at his useless blade.

"I am waiting," with another half bow, the Lord of the Dark Everlasting vanished.

Hikaru's knees buckled, sending him to kneel in the ash. He stayed there for a moment, his hands sifting aimlessly through the gritty grey powder, his mind blank. Faintly, he heard the metallic scrape of another sword being sheathed.

"Hikaru?" Hands pulled at his arms, trying to tug him upright. He merely allowing gravity to take a further hold of him, sagging away. In response, the hands changed position, trying to supporting his slumping weight. "He's gone and he cannot return, not until you truly engage him in battle. It's safe."

"Shindo-kun? Are you all right?"

The hands shook him, first gently, then roughly, until finally they jarred loose the shocked words that had been building silently within him. "Hikaru! SAY something!"

"I have to fight him with a sword?!" Some distant part of him noted that his tone had taken a rather hysterical edge. "I thought we were going to play GO!"

"Hikaru ...."

"You have GOT to be KIDDING me! SWORDS?!" Hikaru pounded the ground. It actually felt good, so he did it again, sending a plume of dust swirling around him. "H-heart of the Game my ASS! It's more like I'm stuck in some stupid game anime! Actually, this whole NIGHT is straight out of a bad anime plot! There's the random scene switching and let's not talk about the freaky costume changes that make no sense or the cheesy names for things! This ... this is NOT GO! It's NOT supposed to be all ...."

Hikaru's hand fell to his sword hilt. "Battle-ish! What am I supposed to do now? Collect a pack of magic cards?! Throw something and say Incredible Go-mon, I choose YOU?! I'm n-not a h-hero. I c-can't f-fight with swords. I'm just S-shindo Hikaru."

He stopped short at the stammer that suddenly appeared in his voice. Hikaru's voice faded his hands fidgeted over the unfamiliar surfaces of the armor, unable to keep still. For the first time, he felt the heavy, inflexible weight on his shoulders, felt the unwieldy edges and curves. "I'm just Shindo Hikaru. All I know is how to play Go. And this, this isn't Go."

Sai's movements were slow and careful as he came to kneel in front of Hikaru again. "Calm down. I understand. I--I, myself, feel a little overwhelmed." The ghost straightened A mixed look of fear and wonder twisted across the normally serene face. "But can't you feel it? Do you remember what it was like when we played together? In your mind, we used swords then. It's still Go. You just have to look beyond the surface."

"What surface?! There's not a goban, or lines, or anything! It's just a bunch of dust and ashes!" Hikaru grabbed a handful of the grey powder and threw it, watching it scatter in the still air.

"Ashes?" Sai abruptly drew both of his hands to his chest level, as if forming a makeshift shield with his fingers. "You see ... just ashes?"

Unconsciously, Hikaru mimicked the action, spreading his hands over his own heart. "Well, wh-what do you see?"

Sai's face became blank. Torajiro's eyes widened.

"What do you see?" Hikaru repeated. He shouldered out of Sai's grasp. "What is it? You both see something, don't you? Something I can't."

He paused, cupping his face with both his nerveless hands. "I STILL can't see the game?! I have to play that ... that ... Lord of .. that .. THING, and it's still screwed up? I'm still screwed up! And I have to play a screwed up GOD! Oh shit! I'm so screwed!"

"No," Sai's tone sounded low and firm. "No, you aren't. In this place, the level of play -- the world itself -- is based on the potential and the talent of the players involved ... you shouldn't be having a problem here, no matter what Osusuki did to you. He can't take that away from you."

"My talent..." Hikaru stared at his hands. "Oh."

Sai knelt next to him. "Wait, it's not what you think--"

"Okay, so what AM I supposed to think?" My talent. My potential. Without the memories of our games ... "All I see is ashes."

Nothing but ashes, and the memory of that smile, cold and cutting. "He knew. That's what he meant, isn't it? That's why no one takes my game seriously."

"Hikaru," Sai reached out, flinching as Hikaru pushed him away again.

Hikaru might have smiled. He might not have. He just knew that he couldn't cry, no matter how much the tears threatened. "I've doomed us all, haven't I? Ever since I stepped into this forest. Since I saw that stupid goban in my grandfather's attic. I can't play a g-god. I can barely play real people!"

"That's not true! Hikaru ... you can play. And we aren't condemned yet. What has happened is not a curse. It's a blessing."

"For who? From who? Blood and tears, Sai. If it was something good, wouldn't it have been, I don't know, daisies or something? It's a CURSE!"

Sai stilled completely. The ghost's hands lowered.

"Hikaru, you can't mean that," he rasped.

Hikaru looked away. "I ..." The games aren't there anymore. And when I saw that blade, when it nearly took my head off, I knew that -- "I-I always wanted to know if I'd be anything without your games. And I found out, didn't I? Dust and ashes. "

Lowering his gaze, Hikaru took a hitching breath, then plowed on. "Look. It's not really your fault. You didn't get to play the way you wanted either, in the end. I can't remember the games we had together, but for some weird reason, I do remember one of the first times you ever played ... well, it's not really me remembering ... but back when you were a kid, I saw you play. But I think .... the you back then ... why do you play now, Sai? Tell me, when you teach me, is it to help me really learn Go or is it because there is no other way for you to play?"

Sai said nothing.

"You lost the reason why you played in the first place, and maybe -- maybe I never had a good reason. Without you, maybe I'm not supposed to play." Exhausted, Hikaru bent forward, closing his eyes. This time, no hands came forward to try to support him. "If that's not a curse, I don't know what is. I'm tired. Tired of the game hurting so much, not just you, not just me ... not even just tonight."

"I'm so tired. An' my sword's stuck. Couldn't even defend myself," he added as an afterthought. "I don't know anything about swords! No one ever taught me about swords ..."

The whisper of cloth swishing met his ears, as well as what might have been a raspy, shaking sigh. Footsteps, muffled against the dust, faded away.

"Shindo-kun ..."

"Go away." Hikaru curled into himself as tight as his armor would allow him to. It wasn't tight enough.

He knew that a part of him utterly hated what he had just said, that a part of him wanted to rip himself apart for how much he had just hurt his best friend.

And part of him acknowledged the bits of truth inherent as well.

Lost deep within his misery and self pity, it took Hikaru a little while to notice the sound. It started softly, like the slow swinging creak of a rusty gate, before growing louder and louder, until its harsh screeching echoed ceaselessly in the empty air.

Laughter.

Hikaru didn't have enough emotion left in him for surprise or alarm. The best he could manage was a numb sort of acceptance as Sugawara no Akitada slowly appeared, rolling around in the dust, nearly convulsing in his glee. Shreds of his tattered kimono unraveled around the Imperial tutor, and pale, sagging flesh could be seen in the great rents of cloth.

"Clever boy! Clever, clever, CLEVER boy!" Sugawara howled. He was missing most of his teeth, Hikaru noted faintly, and there was a strange, wet sucking sound to his words. His mouth was a little more than a ragged, empty hole. "Don't need that loser, don't need him, don't need Fujiwara!"

The ghost levered to his feet, his head at an odd angle, his motions stilted and marionette like... yet still ... still somehow radiating a strangely compelling power.

"Stay away from me!" Hikaru tried to get up, but failed. His legs felt frozen.

The ancient Go tutor tottered forward, step by step, a wide leer slashing across his ravaged face. "I'm a sensei, too! The best in the court, I alone! I can show you how to play the Devil's game. Fujiwara never taught you that, did he? Sugawara can."

Hikaru threw up both of his hands in a desperate warding gesture. "You cheated! And you went to Hell for that! Why would I want learn from you?"

"Cheated? Went to Hell?" Sugawara no Akitada stopped, his arms swinging loosely at his sides as if their connecting strings had been cut. "Yes. I did. Been there. Done that. Quite fun too. Not the Hell part, but the winning part. I didn't mind the cheating part either, oh no, oh no, but the other part, the Hell part ... Listen to me Listen."

For a moment, the mad, spiraling eyes cleared, and Hikaru found himself pinned by a sharp, amber gaze. "Listen. Cheating wasn't the problem. Isn't the problem. Don't you want to win? You can't, you know. Not Fujiwara no Sai no deishi. You can't. Not against a God. You are a deishi of a loser, a loser of a deshi you are! But I can change that. Be Sugawara no Akitada no deishi. Be my deishi."

The long moment seemed frozen, captured under glass. Hikaru stared at those eyes, unable to break away. The ancient Go tutor took one last step forward. The edge of his rotting kimono brushed Hikaru's knees, and a dry, musty scent of mold and decay followed in his wake. Hikaru panted in soundless terror the slavering mouth yawned open above him. "I play to win. I know, I know Go. It iswaswillbe of swordsdeathblood. And I always win. "

Somewhere in those long, rambling moments as Sugawara circled but did not quite touch lucidity, Hikaru knew that, once upon a time, this was a man capable of killing with the game. Could still, if he chose, do more than enough damage, especially when the game itself took the form of swords and bloodshed.

Most of all, he knew that this man could teach him to do the same.

Hikaru's decision came without hesitation. "No."

The ghost of Sugawara no Akitada straightened. Eyes wide, sagging arms akimbo, he lurched toward Hikaru. A whining shriek emerged from the frothing lips. The sound may have encompassed words, but Hikaru had no chance to even guess at a possible meaning as the former imperial tutor lunged at him. Despite his frail appearance, Sugawara no Akitada still had all the strength of an enraged beast as he hammered Hikaru into the dust. Bony fingers clawed toward Hikaru's scabbard.

His arms straining, his entire body twisting, Hikaru fought to keep those scrabbling hands away from his face, away from his sword, away from him. A long, sinewy hand escaped Hikaru's grasp and enclosed around the sword hilt at his waist.

With a throat scraping yell, Hikaru dug his nails into the soft, rotting flesh, trying to rip away Sugwara's grip. A stream of light erupted forth from Sugawara's hand, racing down the length of the sword. Despite Hikaru's efforts, the blade began to slide free. If the sword left the scabbard . . .

NO! Without thinking, Hikaru's right hand moved to seize the exposed blade, stopping its progress, even as his left rammed outward, smashing into slavering face above him. He had a moment's respite, then the spindly weight slammed into him again, forcing all the air out of his lungs. His vision began to dim and curve at the edges.

"Leave him ALONE!" The body above him was abruptly jerked away, leaving him gasping and heaving. Rolling to his knees, Hikaru gagged, his eyes streaming as he coughed. His left hand closed around his right, and he felt a warm, sticky wetness coat both hands. Swallowing back bile, he forced his left hand to release his right and reached awkwardly toward his scabbard. He shoved the exposed blade back in. To his relief, his sword had not truly left the casing. But the metal felt different now, crackling slightly against his skin as if electrified. What did he do to it?! Sai! HELP ME!

"Shindo-kun! Are you all right?"

That's not Sai's voice. He looked up. Torajiro?

Unarmed, unadorned save for a white tunic similar to what a battlefield healer might wear, Torajiro now crouched beside him. Hikaru was relieved to note that Sugwara no Akitada had retreated somewhat, though he was still too close for comfort. Though not exactly fearful, Sugwara seemed to want to keep a healthy distance from the snapping blue aura that now flared around the Go saint. Hikaru, too, slid a few inches backwards. He remembered all too well what he had faced when Torajiro first became angry. Judging by looks alone, Torajiro was well beyond enraged. "What did you do to him, Sugwara-san?"

Sugawara no Akitada stuck out his slimy tongue and waggled it. "You don't scare me, oh no, oh no. Not you, Go saint, the non-player. Wimp! Tell me, tell us, how did you go down? Tell us, pleasies. On a cross? By stones? In a river of bones? Not that kind of saint? No. How did you lose? Tell us. It's important, it is."

"I don't deny I couldn't win," inexplicably, Torajiro's aura died down to a normal flicker, "but for one game, winning has never been important to me."

"Then what is, Go-oey Saint? You didn't save Fujiwara. And you think you can keep me from him? " the snaking tongue darted forward again, lapping at Sugawara's top lip in a horridly obscene gesture. "I always get my way in the end. Ask Fujiwara, if you don't believe. I alone, at the court, I alone was the best. Ask Fujiwara! Ask him! But where is he, my lovely, my only, my scaredy-cat foe? Ran away again, Fujiwara did? Once to a river, once to a goban, and now to Hell. I won, you know, and he couldn't take that. I won! I alone! I always win, in the end."

"And look where that led you."

"And where did your path of goody-goody-ness lead you? Same. Stalemate, Go saint. You played for the people, I played for myself, and it's still the same." Sugawara no Akitada chortled wildly, small brown eyes slitting in mirth.

"You cannot help him. Fujiwara cannot help him. He needs to win. For that, he needs me . Hehe, too bad I'm not all here. I can lose myself sometimes. But I don't ever lose. Little boy, clever little boy, you can't deny it, no you can't. You feel something between us, you're connected to me, yes. You understand that sacrifices have to be made. You never would've run away to a river, all alonely, no. You would have fought me, yes. You want to be the best, yes. Prove yourself, yes. I can feel it in you. Like hunger."

Clutching his bleeding right hand tight against his chest, Hikaru gritted his teeth, refusing to reply.

"Fight or die, die or fight. The only way out is to play. You know this, you feel this, like me. Fight or die. Fight and die," humming the words, Sugawara rocked back and forth, scrubbing a hand through his lank hair repeatedly.

"Die or fight. Die and fight. I know this, I've always known this. He never understood, Fujiwara, no. My only hope is trained by a fool who didn't fight back, who lost himself in a river! Maybe this is another vision of Hell, here to taunt me? My only hope, taught by a loooooser ... but I can still do it, teach him to win. He's a fighter, like me! And you know what I can do."

"Enough. Please be quiet, Sugawara-san," Torajiro's said softly. Politely. But something in the Go saint demeanor made Hikaru take notice.

"Neener poopies, why should I listen to you? You and runaway Fujiwara. Nope."

"Sai is not here because I asked him to stay away. I thought it might not be wise, since he also has a sword, if he came near you now." Hikaru blinked at the revelation.

"Hiding behind his skirts again? Oooo." Sugawara giggled.

"Nor did I want to upset him if I had to ---" pausing, Torajiro seemed to be searching for the right word. Hikaru backed away as the light enveloping the ghost flickered. "I have been to Hell, and Sai doesn't like thinking about that. But yes, I know what you can do. Do you know what I can do?"

Torajiro tilted his head. His aura turned a pale, silver blue. Sugawara froze.

"So please be quiet, Sugawara-san. No more."

"He still has to fight, Santy Go Saint. Fight or die. Die and fight. And for that, he needs me, needs the cheaty beater. Otherwise, there is only one endsies for him," Hikaru tensed Sugawara turned to face him again. Deep within the craggy face, amber eyes sharpened once more. Torajiro drew himself upward, taking one, measured step toward the former Imperial tutor.

"Only one end. Well, we're all mad here," Sugawara no Akitada shrugged jerkily, one shoulder at a time. "But I think I'm going to be mad over there. Good day."

With a suprisingly graceful bow, the tutor rapidly slinked off to the side. He stopped about twenty meters away from them, waved cheerfully, then plopped to the ground and stuck his pinkie in his ear.

"I ... I think my brain just broke," Hikaru mumbled to himself. "Yup. Really think some screws have fallen out. If I shake my head, I think I hear a rattle."

At his side, Torajiro slowly relaxed, letting out a long sigh, even if he didn't technically breathe. "Shindo-kun, are you all right? Sai would be here too, but like I said, I don't think it'd be wise. Sugawara might have become even more agitated, and while Sai is normally a peaceful soul ... at any rate, bloodshed should be avoided here if possible."

Hikaru stared at his hand. "Too late."

Torajiro dropped to his knees in front of Hikaru. "Shindo-kun! I didn't know -- let me look. I should have stopped Sugawara soo--"

"I did it myself to myself," Hikaru heard himself babbling, as if from a great distance. Everything had assumed a rather fuzzy quality. He wasn't quite sure he liked it. "It's kinda stupid. I grabbed the sharp end. That was real stupid. I don't know much 'bout swords, but even I know you shouldn't grab the pointy ends."

Torajiro didn't reply as he hastily ripped off a part of his under tunic. "Let me see."

In reflex, Hikaru clutched his hand closer to his chest, hissing as the cut burned even more.

"Please, Shindo-kun. I can help. I want to help."

"It's okay, it's fine, I can fix it." Hikaru shook his head numbly. "It's okay. Really."

"Let me help. Please." Torajiro offered his hand. "Whatever it is I have said or done ... put it aside. We are in the same predicament and we are more alike, perhaps, than you know. Please."

The wound burned, sharp and fierce. Torajiro's gaze seemed to hold the same fire. Slowly, Hikaru extended his damaged hand. The Go saint took it gently, as if handling something that could break apart with a breath.

"You're gonna get blood all over your pretty tunic," some disjointed part of him apologized.

"It will not be the first time," Torajiro replied. Hikaru winced as the ghost dabbed at the wound with the cloth, then squeezed it tightly.

"OW!" The pain helped clear the fuzziness.

"I know it hurts, but I need to stop the -- there we go now. This is pretty deep; it may require stitches, though I think a quick dressing should suffice temporarily. It's a clean cut, and it'll heal, given time," the Go saint's touch was skillfully light, though his fingers froze, ever so slightly, as he reached the end of his sentence.

"But I don't have a lot of that, huh?" Hikaru curled his free hand into a ball. "I'm kinda surprised Lord Kickmeintheballs has left us alone for so long."

"Outside time has little meaning in here," Torajiro said as he wrapped the wound. "And he has no choice. The rules of engagement are clear. And Sai and I will make sure that he abides by them." He tugged the cloth tight, then deftly tied it off.

"Owww!" Hikaru hissed again.

"Sorry," Torajiro's fingers moving soothingly over the bandaged area. "I'm sorry ... I don't want to hurt you."

"I know," Hikaru said, touching the bandage himself. "Really. I know. It's not you. It just ... happens, sometimes. Hurting people, I mean. 'Round me and my mouth, 'specially. I really didn't want to ... and I kinda feel bad about ... Kinda. Really bad."

He glanced in the direction Sai had taken, but there was no sign of the ghost. "I didn't want to..."

"Sai knows, Shindo-kun, even if he is a little upset at the moment," Torajiro said, seeming to successfully piece together the broken fragments what Hikaru had said (and hadn't said). "And I must apologize as well for leaving you alone with Sugawara. I won't let it happen again."

"But why?" Hikaru took a deep breath. "Why is he here? And no offense, but why are you here? How are you here? Sai, I kinda understand. But you an' ol' Screwloose?"

"I don't know," Torajiro said. "Like Sugawara no Akitada mentioned, there is a connection. I feel it too. Of what, by what, I can only guess. Something about you, perhaps, calls to us. Something that not even Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi can stop."

"Me? I don't think so," Hikaru snorted. He gestured around at the grey plains that stretched before him. Not the exact settings he would ever choose to have a heart to heart with his fellow deishi, with their mentor still absent and a madman watching. But the night had more than just changed his perception of what was "strange". "I still don't know what you see. Maybe, if you can tell me I could see ... something. Or at least understand."

"I don't know if that'd would help," Torajiro said, his voice soft. "I couldn't win." He pulled his knees up to his chest, and rested his chin on his folded arms. "But ... I didn't lose either."

Hikaru raised his own head. "WHAT?!"

"Seki. A seki formed, at the very end of the game," the Go saint's shoulders slumped. "I couldn't break it, not without destroying myself totally in the process."

"But a seki means ... you TIED with the LORD of EVIL!?" Stunned, Hikaru rocked backwards. "You tied with a GOD! You ... you CAN play!"

"I never said I couldn't play. I chose not to play, Shindo-kun. There's a difference. But the one time I did choose ... I did not win. Could not win." Torajiro laced his fingers together, and closed his eyes. "You have to win over evil, to make it count. Just merely forcing a draw is not enough. And that's my Hell. Forced, eternally, to play a game I cannot lose, cannot win ... really, where I cannot make any play. Given how I've lived my life before . . . I think you can understand the irony. To be alone, unable to move forward, unable to go back ... that's the Devil's Game, and I don't know how to help you avoid it. Perhaps you're blessed by not seeing it the way I do. Or perhaps ... you may need Sugawara no Akitada after all."

Hikaru sucked in a breath through his teeth, trying to imagine an eternal game, without rest, without pause. What would happen if I never make a play? Never drew my sword?

"It won't help," Torajiro replied as if he had heard Hikaru's thought's aloud. "If you are thinking that you can avoid playing. That would be a Hell in and of itself to you, I wager, given your nature. To be trapped here, knowing that there is something you can't see, that you can't understand, thinking your abilities have failed you --"

"Thanks for reminding me," Hikaru scowled.

"No. I didn't mean it that way." Torajiro shook his head. "To be honest, I understand, somewhat. I wanted to play at first, you know. "

Curious at the non sequitor, Hikaru blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Huh?! You just said ..."

"My mother taught me the game. We would play together, just she and I, in our house by the sea in Onomichi. It was a simple life. My father was a merchant, you see, and just successful enough so that I saw little of him. In my earliest memories, it was just my mother and me."

Hikaru wriggled nervously. Crud, we are more alike than you know.

Torajiro paused, studying him, then nodded slightly.

"It was a simple life, but to me, it was my whole world. The games were merely a part of that. An accent, perhaps. Reminiscent of the touch of salt that enhances the presence of other flavors. But I began to grow stronger in the game," Torajiro's voice never changed its inflection. He gave Hikaru a small smile that was neither sad nor bitter, but at most, was wistful.

"She was so delighted when I could beat her. It made her so happy. So I kept attempting to progress higher. Kept playing. Kept winning. When I was six, my mother invited the local damiyo, Lord Asano, to visit. It was an exceedingly rare opportunity. I won the game I had against him, though he gave me a five stone handicap. I won, and he offered me a place as a member of his household. My mother accepted the proposal. She made me promise to always play my best. I only saw her twice after that, though we both still lived in the same town."

Pausing, Torajiro spent a moment adjusting his robes, then folded his arms again. "When I met Sai, I remember being amazed that there was actually could be someone even more sad than I was about the game. Only he was sad because he wanted to play, while I ..."

The ghost shrugged. "I have a talent for the game, Shindo-kun. I am not being immodest when I say it is a great talent. But what is talent without a heart behind it? I never wanted anything more than to be able to play in a small house by the sea," Torajiro closed his eyes. "Sai gave me a heart, and a purpose, after I had given up. He seemed understand how I felt about having to leave home, and he helped me understand why my mother ... did what she did. In return, I let him play. It was the only time he found peace, in the beginning. And in his path, in his happiness, I found mine, as well."

Torajiro shifted forward onto his knees. Hikaru found himself doing the same. "I couldn't play for myself. But I could play for him, as I did once for my mother. And through him, I could keep my promise. It made sense, in a way. Why else was I given this talent, after all, but not the drive to play? I was destined to meet him, to help him on his way."

Unable to find the right words, Hikaru traced the edges of the bandage around his hand. He tried to imagine what it would have been like, to have talent but not to have urge to use it. He still couldn't quite grasp the idea though.

Torajiro looked up, and Hikaru felt his breath catch. "I was also very arrogant. I thought I had the power to save him. But tonight ... after meeting you, I think ... I know I was wrong."

I don't get it. What does he mean?! Why is he telling me his life story?

The complexity of it all made his head spin. "Look, you're a super good guy for what you did, okay? This mess we're in now proves you were right. Without Sai's games, we're all screwed. I can't see the game! You were right from the start. I should've let him play all my games."

"No, Shindo-kun, that's not what I'm saying." The Go Saint bowed contritely. "I am sorry for burdening you with this, especially now, when you face a crisis of your own. But -- don't you understand? I can see the Heart of the Game, yes, for I have the talent. But playing and winning requires something else. And you have that. I believe you can see the game. What's more, you can play." Each word was spoken with a quiet conviction.

"Run that by me again?" Hikaru spluttered.

"If even I can see it, you must be able to. We both have great talent, otherwise Sai would have never appeared to us. Where we differ is that you truly have played on your own. That should give you an advantage that I never had. I could see the game, I could play it, but I couldn't win. I didn't realize until I met you, why that might be. I was so used to trying to save people. Or having them save me. But it doesn't work that way."

"But it doesn't work my way either! I can't remember a single strategy." Hikaru insisted. "All of his games are gone!"

"But something of the game must still exist between you two; otherwise I doubt we'd be able to follow you into the Heart of the Game itself. Even if it's like ... this," The wavering quality to Torajiro phrasing gave Hikaru pause.

"You're not talking about the ashes and the dust, are you?"

"No. Please forgive me for putting this so bluntly, but do you really, truly want to see the game?"

"What?!" Hikaru stared at the Go Saint. "What do you think I've been trying to do since I got here?!"

The ghost paused, his expression hesitant. "Forgive me once more, but trying and wanting are not the same. I ... I of all people should know. I think that, well, your memories may have nothing to do with inability to see the game. You must want to see it first."

Torajiro grew quiet. He folded his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have ... but that's neither here nor there. If you truly want to see the game, perhaps ... well, I have spent my life watching Sai's games. A lifetime teaching his games to my students. Strange, isn't it? Over the years, I've never wanted to play, but I loved teaching about the brilliance in aftermath of his games. The game before you now was his at first. Perhaps I can help you see what I spent my life observing and teaching. Will you let me try?"

His throat dry too dry for words, Hikaru nodded mutely.

"For now, don't think of the game before you. Don't think about what you've lost. Don't think about any game at all. Let everything settle, become still. Take a deep breath. Good. Close your eyes."

"I want you to picture where you would play Sai, night after night. Shh, no, I'm not asking you to think of a specific game. I know it hurts you when you do, " the touch to Hikaru's shoulder was gentle, and it stilled the last of his nervous shifting.

"Just think about the events surrounding a game. It's safe. You can remember the events around a game, right? Picture how you would sit, with the goban before you. Do you remember how you felt, anticipating the game? How your mouth would go dry? How your heart would pound, knowing that whatever move he directed towards you, you would have to answer with all your strength? Now remember that this isn't shidogo. How many stones would he allow you to place? Find that number. Don't worry about the placement. Now picture him about to make his next move. He is drawing back, reaching forward and --"

In his mind, Hikaru could see the a white fan, dipping and pointing, and his own hand preparing to follow it with a stone. The sound of a piece being placed on the board, the polished slickness of the wood as his nails glided over the --

CRACK! Without warning Torajiro smacked his hands together a hairsbreadth away from Hikaru's nose, causing Hikaru's eyes to pop open. He scrambled backwards as the image of the Go saint, of the very ground beneath his feet, wavered. Shapes begin to coalesce, malformed objects that twitched and lurched into existence. The air was hot, and held a tang of copper. Of blood. Of decay. Terrified, he bolted to his feet. Arms enveloped him, holding him firmly in place. "Shindo-kun, NO!"

And as abruptly as the image had appeared, it was gone. Only grey ash remained. Hikaru collapsed backward, causing Torajiro to stumble with him.

"What was that?!" he breathed.

"You saw it, didn't you?" Torajiro gently eased him back down to his knees. "Do you still see it?"

"No! What the Hell was THAT?!"

"The Heart of the Game, as controlled by Amatsu Mikaboshi," Torajiro said quietly. "It's all right to be afraid. I was. I am."

"I'm n-no-not afraid! It's j-just ... eh ....THAT'S even LESS like Go than before!" Hikaru felt his breathing speed up. "Oh shit."

"It's the game as Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi sees it," Torajiro's hands patted Hikaru's back awkwardly. "Shindo-kun! Don't breathe so fast. It's still Go ... it's just in one of its most ancient forms. In China, where Go first started, the game was seen a way to teach battlefield strategy. Army commanders learned the game to improve their skills on the field; it may be one of the reasons why we still refer to the moves as "fighting" and as "engagements" and as ko "battles". Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi sees the game as a war, so therefore the game manifests itself as--"

Every last muscle in Hikaru's shoulders tensed. Blood. Bodies. The scent of decay ...

"Shindo-kun!"

"I can't. I can't. It's just me, Shindo Hikaru. I can't play like that. I can't play here. I can't. It's just me. And I can't."

The way Sai and Torajiro had talked about the Heart of the Game, he had been expecting ... well, nothing remotely like the brief flash he had just seen before him. Bodies. Blood.Oh God, Oh God ...

"Shindo-kun!" Torajiro shook him. But even after the Go saint let him go, Hikaru couldn't stop shaking.

"Little boy about to wet his pantsies!" the irritating singsong whine made him dig his nails into his palms.

"Sugawara-san, I won't ask you again. Please be silent."

"MAKE me, Go-oey saint! Make --"

Abruptly the shrieking cut off. Hikaru winced, certain that he did not want to know what had occurred. If Hell could force the clearly gentle hearted Torajiro to resort to such lengths then ... he shuddered.

"Shindo-kun, please, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-- I'm ... I'm going to get ..."

"Hikaru?" Sai's voice reached out to him. "Hikaru? It's okay. It's all right."

I can't, I can't, I can't, I'm so outmatched, I have nothing to play with ... I can't play!

Hikaru couldn't find the strength to voice the thought aloud, so for once, he kept silent. That seemed to make Sai even more voluble. "Hikaru! What did Sugawara -- "

"N-no. Wasn't him. The Heart," his words did not seem to want to cooperate in coming coherently out of his mouth. Hikaru twisted his hands together. "Why didn't you tell me? That's it's like ... did you really think I can play here?"

"Hikaru ..." Sai paused, then came to kneel in front of him. "Yes. You can play here. You may not like it, but you can."

"No! I can't! I don't want to!" Hikaru blinked. Okay, so Torajiro was right. "I don't want to. Cause I'm scared. Of what I might find out about ... you know. How I really play."

Sai stilled. He bent his head slightly, but when he looked up again, his gaze as well as his voice was uncompromising.

"You asked me why I played the game, followed it over a thousand years, didn't you? You were right, I guess. At first, I would have answered you that I wanted to reach the Hand of God. It would be useful now, especially fighting a god. But seeing how it's affected you, Torajiro, even seeing Sugawara here ... I ... don't know anymore. Maybe it it is a curse. But I do know one thing. Look at me. Please?"

Hikaru turned his head slightly towards the ghost.

"I won't lie to you. I did ... and perhaps still do, see you and Torajiro as a means to the Hand of God. And I still love the game, painful as it may be. But that's only a small part of the blessing from Kami-sama. Even if in the end, the game isn't worth the pain, even if it's led us here, to a game you don't want to see ...to a game I don't want to see, if I am to be honest ... even given all that, there's still a blessing in the curse."

Sai waited again until Hikaru met his eyes once more.

"There's a blessing, Hikaru. A gift. I know what mine is. You just have to find yours," the violet eyes seemed to shimmer, but with what emotion, Hikaru could not guess. "I know you're scared, and you have every right to be. No one wants to play this type of Go. But you can't run away. You've never ran away. It's what makes you ... you."

Hikaru ducked down, as if his chest had become his center of gravity. "But I ... I just can't. Not on my own. I always thought I could, but no. I can't. Not without your games. They're still gone, Sai."

Each word fell from his mouth like a leaden weight, "you know the funny thing? I always though that I had to prove to everyone I was better than their memory of your games, that I could erase their expectations of you and make them see me ... make them chase me. Can you even guess how stupid that makes me feel right now?! My own memories of your games got erased, and this is what happens! So I know. I absolutely know now I have no chance on my own. I can't play without your games."

"Hikaru ... my games?" Sai's voice deepened as he reached a hand out and gently tilted Hikaru's chin upwards. Hikaru was surprised to find that Sai's fingers felt ... warm. Or perhaps he was the one who was cold. "But ... don't you know? They're your games too."

Warmth. He felt warmth. "They're your games too, Hikaru. All of them."

Each word came slowly and reluctantly, as if Sai admitting something the ghost, himself, had just barely acknowledged. "Your independence ... your drive, your fight to be yourself no matter what, no matter who stands in your way -- it's the strongest thing about you. One of the best things about you. And ... it's why you are there, in each one of "my" games, in each stone we place together, in each step we take. As you began to understand the game more, you started to see it through my eyes, to know the intent and the meaning behind my hands. You know all my games, inside and out, because you are right there with me as I play. Without you, my Go couldn't exist."

Sai closed his eyes, and his voice dropped to the barest whisper. It did nothing to dampen the impact or the intensity. "In truth, I'm the one who hasn't had a real game of his own ... not for a very long time now. I may have directed the moves, but you were behind me the entire time. You were the one who had to live with the consequences of each game -- the very thing that I've always run from. You were the one who learned the most, who came the farthest. That makes my games yours, to an extent which can only exist between the two of us, to an extent which no one else can take from you. Not Osusuki. Not any wanderer. No one."

"But no one believes that I can play!" No one in the Wandering. No one in the Waking. "Just look at Touya ... How can your games be mine, when I can't even get him to..."

"Enough!" This time, Sai shook him hard enough to make Hikaru's teeth click together. "Enough. The one Touya chases is you, Hikaru. It's YOU. He may be confused about it, but don't ever be confused yourself. Even though he started chasing me, he will reach you, in the end," Sai paused. A shadow passed over his face, briefly, but his determination never faltered.

"You ... you were right. I didn't live my life to its fullest. But you ... I wish you could see it, because I can. If I am to be honest, it makes me jealous, yes, but I can see your future, shining so bright before you. It doesn't matter that you started on this path through me. What is important is that you are walking it, as best you can. And there will come a time, when you make your own moves outside of my teaching. A time when you will make the game your own, and start bringing me with you, instead of the other way around. But no matter when or how, we will always share the ones which I played through you, the ones which we play with each other, every night, and the ones which Kami-sama will bring to us in the future. The reason you couldn't see the games, the reason you can't see this game ... stop separating them in your head, Hikaru. Stop fighting against me, stop comparing, stop being afraid. Stop trying to erase that which is your legacy. It's not the other people's expectations or perceptions that have been driving you. It's not mine. It's not Touya Akira's."

Sai tilted his head, his eyes as piercing as Hikaru had ever seen them. "It's your own. The talent is yours. The games are yours. You don't have to accept or understand it right now. Just believe."

Hikaru shuddered, shaking his head numbly. It couldn't be that simple. It just couldn't be that stupidly simple.

But ... Touya ... the others ...think it's a fluke ...

"I'm telling you the truth! I wouldn't lie to you, not on this." Truth? But ...

"Hikaru," Sai's hands came together. And when they opened ... "Here. You dropped this earlier."

A fan. Sai held out a fan.

Drawing his sleeve back politely, Sai delicately offered it to him, handle first. When Hikaru hesitantly opened his left hand and accepted the fan, the ghost wrapped his own fingers around Hikaru's grip. "Our games are one. It doesn't matter what others think. Believe, even if you don't fully accept it yet. Believe, even if you don't understand. Believe, because I do. With all that I am, with all of my existence, I know you can play!"

In a single, breath jarring moment, Hikaru finally grasped why Sai had treasured Torajiro so much. At the very lowest point of his existence, to find such faith where his own had faltered ... Hikaru held onto the fan for a few, panting moments. He closed his eyes. Believe.

Then, taking a breath, he opened them again.

Some part of him had been expecting some sort of fanfare to mark the moment, perhaps a halo of light opening up above him, with a choir in the background, or flash of lightening, with thunder as the final drum roll. Perhaps it would have been better, to have been given some sort of dramatic warning, but there was none for Hikaru. The space around him merely rippled like a backdrop in the wind, before slowly changing texture and shape. The dust beneath his feet remained, but directly in front of him, the ground now sloped gently down until it flattened into shaped valley. And upon it ...

He stuffed his knuckles in his mouth in a vain attempt stop his building horror from becoming audible. Hikaru thought he had a pretty good handle on the whole ghost situation, but when hordes of transparent, white clad bodies began materializing, he staggered, then dropped to a kneeling position. The bodies did not stay insubstantial for long. Within a few moments, they were solid against the grey dust. Hikaru closed his eyes against the countless bleeding torsos, the gaping wounds, the splashes of red and brown intermixed -- the brutal evidence of violence and its results. The fact that the figures were faceless did not help soothe his rapidly unraveling nerves ... it was somehow worse, to see the eggshell smooth anonymity where some trace of individuality should have been.

Hikaru clamped both hands over his nose and mouth, but the scent and taste of something coppery, like newly minted coins, sieved through to his senses anyway. It took him a moment to realize it was the tang of blood he was breathing from the air. He wheezed desperately, fighting the urge to retch. He had seen all sorts of horrors throughout the night, from creatures who ate mortal flesh to creatures who ate mortal souls. But this again, was something different, too real somehow. At least with the monsters, he could pretend he could banish them with the day.

Some soldiers had managed to remain whole, their hands ready to draw their swords. Others held their weapons aloft. At sporadic intervals, fortresses of white marble seemed to rise out of the ground, glimmering bright against the grey sky. Mixed inbetween the white figures were black ones, all similarly clad in armor and all in the somewhat the same pose as the white troops. Where the two colors met, the soldiers had their weapons drawn. Large black fortresses stretched across the distance.

The Heart of the Game.

"I can see it now," Hikaru shuddered violently, turning away from the sight. "Oh God, I can see it."

"I know," Sai said. "I'm sorry."

"T-the soldiers in white are my pieces, right? And the fortresses are the established territories," Hikaru murmured. Even with his eyes closed, his stomach twisted at the memory of the actual state of his "troops". Those that weren't disemboweled or bleeding had looked rather pitiful. "And the umm ... dead ones are the ... dead pieces that can't been cleared yet. There's a lot of them." Hikaru shuddered again as he tried to concentrate. Opening his eyes, he looked upon the endless rows of shattered bodies before him. It was too much, the blood, the stench ...

"Don't be distracted." Torajiro joined them. "Look beyond, look deep. Sai's game is in there. Look for the beauty. And remember those quiet times you shared. Remember the peace, and hold tight to that."

Taking a deep breath, Hikaru obeyed. For a moment, instead of an ash grey field, instead of a slew of badly wounded bodies, he saw the welcoming gold brown of a goban, and the perfect roundness of black and white stones. He could hear the quiet swish of the traffic from outside his room and the click of the Go stones as he followed the direction of the pointing fan. Like a knot unraveling, the sequence of the game emerged whole and unbroken.

"They're really still there, aren't they? Under it all. The memories ..." he whispered. But do I dare trust them?

"You will know, Hikaru." Sai answered his unspoken thought. "You'll know. The trick is not to trick yourself. That's the key to all kitsune charms. The games cannot be taken from you, because they are truly a part of you. And your ability to read deeply ... it'll never play you false. Not if you believe. Read deeply. Trust yourself. You can play the devil's game, even if it hurts, even if you don't want to. You can play."

Believe.

The moves had just entered the stages following fuseki. Sai's four and four handicap had been devastating, but after a few moments spent on the razor sharp edge of hyperventilation, Hikaru felt his nerves calm somewhat. Devastating, yes, but not so much as it may have first appeared. He breathed a short sigh of relief. Due entirely to the distraction of Hikaru's faulty memories, Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi had not only made one huge error, he had made several, small ones as well. Yet, the real game losing mistake had come about eight moves before, when he had fallen into Sai's major trap. Remnants of the maneuver could still be seen.

Man, that one is even worse than the time when I screwed up against Kaga! Jeez, I guess I should be glad that I'm stupid enough to ruin even a god's game.

But now that the Demon Lord's the four stones had been placed and taken, the flow of the board swung heavily in favor of the black stones. After squinting for a few more minutes, Hikaru deduced that Lord Amatsu Mikaboshi used all of his advantage to attack around the tengen, which Sai must have previously controlled. The Go genius would have never been so messy in his territory acquisition.

The handicap had effectively cut both Sai's actual and potential territory in half. Now, the white that still remained around the tengen seemed all but dead. He would almost certainly lose that group, as well as the chance to make a larger connection between Sai's remaining holdings. Still, Sai had managed to retain most of the northwest territories, and he even had a tenuous entry on the black moyo in the northeast quadrant. Black would not allow the areas to stay undisputed for long, though.

The tengen. The tengen was the key ... if he could somehow retake that space ...

"Can you see the path now?" Torajiro's voice broke Hikaru's quiet, almost trancelike state. Hikaru blinked, and the imaginary goban before him disappeared, leaving the bodies and bloodshed in its place. Hikaru licked his lips, hating what he saw, but his previous nausea did not return. The memories held firm, and the game was there, masked as it was.

"You were right. Thanks," he said, meeting the Go Saint's eyes again. Torajiro's smile was something quick and darting, like a sparrow springing to flight, but it lit his face in its brevity. Hikaru found himself giving a tentative smile in reply. In the corner of his eye, Hikaru could see Sai staring at them, a mixed expression of pride and apprehension in his gaze.

"Okay. How about the other stuff? Like how to place a piece? Or how to take prisoners," Hikaru bit his lip. How to win.

"It'll come to you." Sai said firmly. "Now that you have the game fixed in your head, the rest will come as well. You know how to play, Hikaru, no matter what form the game takes. Therefore, you will know what to do. Draw your sword. But be ready. Once your sword leaves its sheath, there is no turning back until the game is over."

Hikaru dropped his eyes down to his sword, studying it closely for the first time. From what he could see of it, the hilt was iron, and the grip wound in a tight layer of braided cloth. A real sword. He had a real sword. At least it looked real. It certainly had felt real; the sharp stinging in his right hand was proof enough of that. Hesitantly, he traced the metal then grasped the hilt. The bandage around his right hand had just enough give for him to close his hand securely around the hilt, though it was still rather painful.

The metal also felt cold, but it wasn't the same kind of cold that Amatsu Mikaboshi's blade had emanated. Instead, it had the natural coolness of metal left untouched by sun or flesh. Hikaru slowly eased the blade half out of its covering, revealing the etched tiger near the hilt. Lean and lithe, the creature had its mouth opened in a fierce snarl. Its grooves had been outlined in blood. My blood, Hikaru realized. Ewwwww.

"A tiger ...?" Sai murmured, his voice half surprised, half awed. "In blood?"

Similarly entranced, Hikaru reached to touch it with his left hand, but he immediately drew it back. "No, not doing that again. That hurt."

"You have to be careful," Torajiro warned. "I don't think that the Heart of the Game has ever been reached by someone still alive. I don't know what playing here might do to you, or what would happen if you were to di-- ..." the ghost blanched. "Shindo-kun, what happens in the game isn't isolated on the board anymore... it's hard to explain. It's like a gateway. "

"Sai ... you said something like that. Didn't you?" Hikaru rubbed his face wearily. "That a talented enough player could even ..."

"Part the gates of time and see into the very universe itself," Sai finished. "Yes. But that's only one of the gates that can open ... and Hell is not the only possibility that waits on the other side. Like I said, the moves here have a price beyond just merely losing stones. And the damage to you will be real."

"Don't worry about that, Shindo-kun." Torajiro waved his hands placatingly, "You will just have to be very careful."

"He can't be," Sai's voice shook slightly. He had his face averted. "He can't be careful and win. He's going to have to play a fierce Go to catch up, sacrifice pieces and charge fiercely for each moku. And ... there will be a lot of damage before it's all done."

"Oh," Hikaru couldn't think of anything better to say that wouldn't cause the building pressure in his gut to explode. "Um. Why a tiger?"

"Yes, yes, tiger, tiger, burnt in metal bright," seemingly summoned by the word, Sugawara no Akitada tottered up to them, grinning toothlessly. He winked at Torajiro and blew a raspberry at Sai. When neither showed any reaction, he shrugged. "Well it's my turn! My turn! I wanna talk!"

Hikaru gritted his teeth. "You did something to the sword, didn't you? I couldn't get it out before. What did you do?!"

"Nothing, nothing, and everything. I marked you, cause I know what you truly are. Some are tigers. Some are dragons. I know, I know what you are! But the question is, do you know? Huh? Do you? Do you?"

Sai stepped forward abruptly. His hands had bunched into fists. Torajiro shot him an alarmed look.

"Be quiet, Sugawara-san. You've done enough."

"Awww, don't be a meanie. Or I won't tell him what I did to his little pointy swordy thingie. Don't ya' wanna know what I did? Hmmm? Or better yet, how to win with the pointy thingie?"

"Hikaru, don't. Not his way. Not his Go. You can't win his way." Sai said, ignoring Torajiro as the Go saint tugged at his sleeve.

"And should he win your way? Oopsie, but you didn't win, Fujiwara. Did you?" Sugawara no Akitada taunted. "Who are you to tell him what to do?"

Hikaru felt his heart skip a beat. Torajiro locked a hand firmly around Sai's swordarm, but to Hikaru's surprise, his mentor made no move towards the blade. Sugawara no Akitada cackled gleefully in response.

"Hey! Do you ever feel bad for what you did?" Hikaru interrupted. "Ever?"

"Feel bad? Why? I didn't kill him. He did that to himself. All I did was win," the Go tutor's head swung back and forth with each of his words, like a metronome striking a steady cadence to his unsteady sanity. "No, I laughed when I heard. He was such an idiot. It made the win complete for me. Perhaps it's not as fun as if I killed him outright, or not as fun as if he tried to kill me back, but dead's still dead. I alone was the best in Heiankyo after he died. I alone. No one ever challenged me again, no, no."

"But what's the fun in that? Didn't you ever feel sorry for yourself? You won but did you really ever play? You were the best in court, yeah, but you alone were the best. It must've been boring. It must've been lonely." Hikaru willed himself to stillness. His voice dropped. "I know I would've felt that way."

For a moment, Sugawara no Akitada stopped his frantic jabbering, becoming still. He was even more eerie without the repetitive motions. Both Sai and Torajiro moved, placing themselves slightly in front of Hikaru. Sugawara's eyes, however, never left Hikaru's face.

"No, no, boy. No. Wrong-o! Sorry, no cookie for you! I won, didn't I? Yes. In the end, it comes down to that. It just proved I loved the game more than he did. It's easy to kill yourself. But to kill for the game? Not so easy. Stupid boy. Winning requires sacrifice, in blood or in sin. Everytime I've paid, yes I have. There's such power, if you know the price. Hell is in the knowing, you know." Sugawara laughed.

"What will you pay to win? Do you know? I do, I do. I'm the one who unlocked your blade, and more besides that! And I was naughty, you see. So very naughty. Cause you're gonna be the one who pays, not me." Sugawara no Akitada snickered. "I could teach you, though, yes I could. If you were my deishi."

"You must be having a big serving of stupid on TOP of your portion of crazy." Hikaru gripped the sword tight, preparing for another attack from Sugwara. Beside him, Torajiro and Sai tensed as well. "I'd be a deishi of a baboon before I'd declare YOU my sensei!"

Instead of the expected attack, Sugawara merely crossed his arms and huffed. "Oh poo. Fine. Be a baboon boy. See if I care! You can move the sword now, but d'ya know how to use it? And the other stuff? Heh! But if you will not be my deishi, then don't be like your sensei, oh pleasies, no. Don't be like him. You could've been. You could've been him or me. Or we could've been you. What you can have, what you could have had ... what do you have, Hikaru no Hikari? Dare you frame that fearful symmetry? Cause if his games are yours -- well, do you remember the last one he really played? Against me? A loser of a deishi, you are. If you play like your sensei, you'll die."

"Be quiet," Sai finally seemed to recover his voice. "He will not --"

"He will, Fujiwara. He will die, if he's walking your path. You never understood, did you? You ... you ran away, all alonely, to a river. You ran away for a thousand years, behind your deishi. You play, but you don't pay the consequences. So you don't know, no, no. If he was my deishi, he'd win." Sugwara sighed. "Don't be like your sensei, little boy. Don't complete that symmetry. You'll just become a ghost, bound and chained. Yes. And into the river, drowning deep and dark."

Hikaru stared at him, completely unnerved yet again. His grip never left his sword. "Just SHUT up, will you?! Enough crazy! I'm not gonna die."

Sugawara laughter became full, body shaking guffaws.

"Hikaru ... let it go. What he says ... what he is -- it doesn't matter. He's wrong. You won't end up like us. You won't," Sai's touch on his shoulder was light, but Hikaru could feel the tension flowing from the ghost as Sai glared at the former imperial tutor.

Hikaru rubbed his head, then turned away from Sugawara no Akitada. The quiet, slithering voice remained though.

"I still know, little boy. I know your limits. I know what you are. I know the price. But you don't. Thus we are all bound, we are trapped we are chained, we are stained by guilt, grief ... sin ... just as surely as with blood and tears we are contained -- in Hell or a goban, it matters not. Even your Fujiwara no Sai. Kuwara no Torajiro. Even them, by this. We could've been you, but you don't know what you are."

What does he mean?!

"Hikaru?" Sai spoke again. "Let it go. Find the depth of the game. And you'll know the answer."

Sai's right. Stop thinking about it. The game is what's important now. Sai wouldn't have given Amatsu Mikaboshi those stones to if he didn't have some plan of escape. He wouldn't have brought me here. And if his games and mine are....

Hikaru's grip tightened around his fan. I should be able to find the path he would have taken. Even if it leads to...

He slid the fan into his belt next to his sheath. He cleared his mind of all doubts, all insecurities, anything else but the game. When even the sounds of Sai, Torajiro, and Sugawara no Akitada had faded into the background, he opened his eyes and looked for his troops.

His soldiers were in desperate trouble. The southwest group looked like it was going to fall soon; the territory there was vital if he was to hold the star point fortress. He scanned the other troops. If he moved in to protect that group, he would loose the momentum he had gained in the southeast. However, that point did not hold as much worth as his southwest territories. For now, he would have to accept the loss. He would move to protect the southwest group

Steeling himself, praying fervently to any deity who would listen, Hikaru drew his sword.

"Onegaishimasu."

continued in Part 10c ...