Updates ... here's another installment in Sugoroku's Story for you all. Yes...its a little earlier than normal, but I have a three day dog show to go to over the weekend and won't be home to get this up at its traditional time.

Scarab Dynasty ... You thought it was brilliant? Awesome! I totally agree with you. Sugoroku is just to unique to be stuck in the common thought processes of the average Japanese man no matter what time he was born into. Glad you're getting excited along with him, 'cause there's lots more to come!

PyroDragon2006 ... I'm thrilled you thought it was a well written chapter. I honestly wasn't planning on getting back to any sort of realization on Osamu's part, but now that you mention it...I think I will have to. Though it will be in a round about sort of way that may take a bit to get to.

BabyGatomon ... Its amazing what can happen when one isn't expecting it. That was sort of the case with Sugoroku and his father. Sugoroku was so busy doing his own thing he couldn't see it any way but his until it was too late. So very pleased to see you keeping up with Sugoroku!

And away we go!

Trixie21

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story

Part 1: Japan

17. The Parting of Ways …

What is innocence really?

Is it a single thought or lone idea? Or is it a compilation of extended beliefs and teachings that by our lack of awareness of it, lets us blissfully slide by those things that we are not ready to see or understand? Do we simply, on some subconscious level, trust that it is real, but cannot view it in the light of our wakefulness?

What is innocence?

Perhaps it is not the question of 'what' that is most important.

Consider that perhaps it is more the way in which it is lost.

For some it is taught, for others read, many see it, others are forced to it… For some it is the loss of a closely held personal belief, others a personal feeling or thought, and there are those that only equate it to a physical awareness.

The way and the reasons are as endlessly varied as people themselves, but the fact is that the person that remains when it is lost, can be irrevocably changed for life.

Self discovery of a long forcibly denied truth was Sugoroku's, and the person that was left behind was something…someone…just a bit cynical, a bit less fresh faced to the world... A bit older in thought and deed.

The innocence of possibility, that he could truly bond to his father, was gone. The idea now set, the hope now gone, Sugoroku gave up on that tie.

He returned home later that night, after his parents had already retired, and as he looked about the little house, he felt nothing more than a soft pang of regret for his mother. He would miss her of course. Very much.

She had always understood. She had always been open minded. Always kind, always soft spoken, and even a little wise beyond common thought. She had always been there for him as best as she could to help and support him. Had she been raised in another more progressive era, she might have even risked anger with Osamu by arguing with him on Sugoroku's behalf.

But this was were she lived and Sugoroku understood.

He did not tell her he was leaving until the following evening, after he had returned from the ship, and was busy putting his few things into a small duffel he had been issued to hold his belongings. His mother stared at the satchel in open surprise as Sugoroku paused in his packing.

He looked at her quietly before saying, "They have invited me to go to America with them."

Sayuri gave a slow nod as she remained silent.

"They're leaving tomorrow, early."

The woman turned her eyes down for a moment, then looked back up. It struck Sugoroku just then, how much he had failed to notice about her in the last few years. She was certainly not the woman he remembered from his childhood.

Her once raven black hair had almost completely turned a dark gray and the once smooth, pale face, had become lined with age and hardship. Her small light frame, suddenly seemed even lighter and smaller then he had ever thought, and though she still stood with a straight backed dignity, her shoulders had at some point come to sit just a bit forward. Her movements and footsteps, always slow, measured and graceful, had slowed down even more, and it was there that the young man wondered how he could have missed noticing this sooner. But he chanced a look at her eyes, and then he understood.

Purple eyes so dark they mirrored the night sky, they seemed to glow with a steady, unending shine at him. There was a solid sense to them that gave him the impression, that though there was a face of quiet contemplative understanding before him, there was a soul of strength and courage that ran just beneath. These eyes had not changed in the least for as long as he could remember and it was this that had kept him from seeing the other changes.

Whenever he had looked at her, he always looked at her eyes.

Whenever she stood before him, her eyes were the first thing he greeted.

Their clear and steady brilliance had always been what defined her to him, and what he thought of her as, was something never changing…undying.

But she had changed and yes, would someday die. That truth was clear now that the idea of not being here had taken root firmly in his mind. This was part of his regret from the following night. Leaving her behind… Not knowing how she would be in the coming years… It was almost enough to make him change his mind.

Sayuri put a small hand over his as she again nodded.

"You know what you will do there?"

"I will be helping to build relations between the Americans and our country. They will be taking me to special chess contests to show that we are not so different."

"And after?"

Sugoroku looked at his bag.

"I am not sure. But I will find it out there. What I will do, who I will become… It is out there, not here. That's why I want to go with them."

His mother sighed softly.

"I know. I have always known. You were born different from the rest of us for a reason Sugoroku. We may not understand it in this time, or even the next, but there is purpose, and I know that you will find it. You were born to go where others cannot. Born to do what others will not. To succeed at what others know as only failure. I only wish I could see you do those things myself."

Sugoroku looked at his mother.

"I will write you."

She smiled.

"I would like that."

They were silent for a moment before she gave his hand a quick pat and then left, but only minutes later she returned with a small box. She held it out to him.

"For you," she said simply.

Sugoroku took it hesitantly and opened it, to find a sizable pile of bills and coins within.

He looked at her in surprise.

"Mother! This is…"

She nodded.

"The money you have given me since you started working with the Americans."

"I cannot take this! I gave it to you to use."

"Yes, but you will need it more now that you are going to start a new life of your own."

She gave a secretive smile then and added, "Do not worry. I have kept a little aside for emergencies. Take that and exchange it for their money before you leave, so you will have it to use in America."

Sugoroku sighed, but smiled anyway as he closed the lid on the box.

"Alright. But I look at this as a loan and I will pay it back."

Sayuri gazed a second longer at her son before stepping forward and hugging him soundly.

"Be careful Sugoroku. Try hard and do well. I will keep you in my thoughts and I will always love you."

Sugoroku hugged her in return.

&&&

The next morning, when the USS Pemberton began to slowly pull away, Sugoroku stood on the forward deck, looking out across the bay towards the ocean. He was looking forward, his eyes on the future. His past was slowly moving behind him and that was where he intended to keep it.

"Hey, Sugoroku. There's someone standing by the dock," said Mark quietly.

Sugoroku looked back at Mark's indicated spot and stared. Though he could no longer see the features clearly, he knew by the dark blue, ceremonial kimono who it was. He had been to too many prayer services, and gone on too many yearly treks back to the Shinto Shrines where his ancestors had lived, to not know.

He was momentarily filled again with that feeling of regret as he acknowledged that there was no way to know if he would ever see them again. But one never knew and so he put his hand up and waved.

A small hand was put out by the figure in return and held high for many long moments, and Sugoroku stood and continued to watch until the form was nothing more than a dot on the shrinking docks.

"Goodbye," he said softly under his breath one last time before looking forward again.

Amending his earlier thoughts of the past, his mother, he conceded, was the only thing he would look back at.

The only thing worth looking back to.

Thus ends Part 1, Japan ... or what I like to call "The Beginnings Arc", lol.

Next week: Part 2, Chapter 18. The Journey Begins...

I know, short chapter for the last one in the Part 1. I just had to tie in that last string with his mother before he takes off. But don't worry. You will find that the chapters will be longer from this point on and as a consequence, there may be an occasion where it may be a little more than a week before a new chapter gets up. I have lots of research to go through to time his appearances just right, but I truely hope that if you hang in there with me, it will be worth it to you.

I will admit agonizing over whether I should start from 1 for each arc of Sugoroku's story or not. In the end I decided to just keep the continuity of the chapter numbers since will continue to number them consequtively unless I make each arc a seperate story entry. Sure I could have submitted some 5 different arcs as individual stories, but I didn't want to confuse myself. ; )

As usual, I thank all of you for trudging through with me in these early years and I warn you now...if you thought Sugoroku was different as a kid, all I can say is... "you ain't seen nothin' yet!"

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )

Special segment... The following is an excerpt from a future chapter I've been playing around with when I've been a good authoress and reached my personal limit for the more current chapters of the story. Its my way of appologizing for such a short ending to Part 1 and to further reiterate that Sugoroku's Story will be coming for a long time!

The Price of Pride…

'How does one do it,' he wondered as he looked out the window of the small bedroom. 'How can a person truly say enough is enough after so many years of it. 10 years… Good god! Has it really been that long? I could go, but… What if he is the same? What if he can't look at me as anything more than a child still? Then what reason would there have been for me going back? To see her certainly would be reason enough, but him? What if he still will not accept that I am not like him and I will never be?'

The little voice inside his head answered, 'Is it really that important anymore? You know you are different. You live by it. What sway can he hold over you with all you have seen and done and have yet to do?'

Sugoroku sighed as he looked down at the letter once more.

'Surprisingly, a lot,' he admitted.

The letter had come only hours ago.

From Japan.

From his mother.

Back dated by almost two months, it had taken time to reach him because of rerouting. He had moved since his last letter to his mother, twice actually, and it was only because of Ritchie's misplaced bag that they would have gotten the letter at all. The post had managed to get the letter as far as Morroco, but there it had stalled when there was no further knowledge of where he had gone next. Only Ritchie calling to the last hotel in his search for his bag, had found the letter waiting as well and so here it was a week later, sent with the bag.

It was a surprisingly short letter, but its words needed no long dramatization. He was more than fully aware of what it meant to those most concerned.

'Dearest Sugoroku,

I send this letter in the hopes that it reaches you in good time. To allay any fears, I say first that I am very well. These last several months have been mild, and for me, it is a blessing as it eases the aches of my years and makes living pleasant enough.

Most sadly however, your father is not well. He is very ill Sugoroku. Despite the good weather, he has become bed fast and could not survive but for my help. The doctors, though they say they have tried what they can, have not given him much time left. Perhaps a few months at best. But that is only their guess. Even they are not sure.

I know that your parting with your father was not under the best of circumstances, but I would hope that you would not hold it against your father or yourself, and would see your way to coming home even if only for a few days to visit him before he is gone from us.

Please, Sugoroku. I have asked nothing of you before. But for those last moments of his life, I ask you to return if only to say goodbye properly.

With all of my love,

Sayuri'

Two months old.

Would it already be too late even if he did return?

Did it matter?

Sugoroku looked out the window again.

No, it did not.