---------(2)-----------
By the time their game was over, the setting sun was casting long, slanted shadows through the blinds. Shindou sat back, replacing the cover of his go-ke, and blinked. "When did the two of you come?" he asked the pair of observers standing to the side.
"We came a while ago, and joined the crowd watching. We were the only ones left after you started shouting, sensei," the young woman said. Her attention shifted to Touya and she bowed; the man beside her followed. "Hello, Touya-sensei."
"Sakurai-san, Fujitaka-san," Touya greeted them. Sakurai Keiko was another rising pro: just twenty, and had a good chance of getting into the Honinbou League this year. Fujitaka Hiro was an amateur player: twenty-one and studying law at Waseda. They had been dating for a year. Both were Shindou's oldest students in Japan.
"Shouting? What shouting? That was just a friendly discussion," Shindou growled.
"Friendly discussions don't include questions like 'Are you crazy?', and words like 'idiot' or 'ridiculous'," Fujitaka pointed out. "Luckily, this part of the salon is sound-proofed." He looked at Touya, and bowed a little bow, "Sensei is excitable. We're very sorry, Touya-sensei," he said.
Shindou narrowed his eyes, and his mouth opened, probably to deliver a scathing remark that would, Touya knew, roll off Fujitaka's deceptively placid exterior.
"What did you do with our dearest Kuroda Itsuki, anyway?" Sakurai interrupted. "He's been hiding in the kitchenette all afternoon."
"Kuroda?" Shindou said, looking as though he was trying to recall who Kuroda was.
"He kept sneaking peeks at the two of you from behind the door. I could have told him that it's impossible to watch a game like that."
Shindou shrugged. "I made him wash the stones, that's all. And yelled at him a little."
"You yelled at him? Good," Sakurai said with satisfaction. "He's been getting boastful, acting like he's too big for his boots."
"He's on the verge of qualifying for the Honinbou League, just like you," her boyfriend said, nudging her with a shoulder. "No wonder he's getting cocky."
"Him? I'm playing him next, and I'm going to beat him so hard, he'll go home crying to his mother," Sakurai said, nudging him back.
There was no way anyone was going to mistake Shindou's students for anybody else's, Touya thought.
"Getting into the Honinbou League is one thing, but can you beat the rest to be the final challenger?" Shindou asked. "Touya here made it into the League when he was fifteen, you know."
"Yeah, even younger than you, sensei!" Sakurai said.
Shindou stuck out his tongue in a remarkably childish gesture. "If I hadn't stopped playing in Japan all those years ago, you'd be staring at Shindou Honinbou now," he said. "In fact, I was on the verge of challenging Isumi..." he stopped suddenly, his voice suddenly scratchy, and waved a hand. "Never mind, that's old news."
But all the fight seemed to have left him suddenly, making his face look old. "Shindou," Touya said in concern.
Shindou shook his head. "I'm fine. It's been a long day, that's all," he said. Looking up at Sakurai and Fujitaka, who were exchanging glances, he said, "I'll leave the salon to you. You two are going to lock up later, right?"
Sakurai nodded, looking attentive. "Don't worry, sensei," she said. "We have things in control."
Shindou nodded. "Good. Tell Kuroda to go home; he's done enough for today."
His students gave quick bows, murmured goodbyes to Touya, and went to the counter.
Shindou stood up. "Time to go, Touya."
"W... What?"
"Dinner. I suppose you're going to the hospital later?" he asked. At Touya's nod, Shindou looked sober. "You better eat before you go, then. Come on, the boys have been asking why they haven't seen you for some time, anyway."
"You mean, at your home?" Touya asked.
"Where else?" Shindou said, looking amused. "You've been there before, you know. It shouldn't be that much of a surprise."
"No," he agreed. "I was thinking of something else, that's all."
"Let's go, then," Shindou held out his hand, almost imperiously, and Touya found himself clasping it.
---
Touya had never really asked Shindou why he had left, all those years ago, ending a promising pro career in Japan for the varied challenges of the international stage. Not when he knew the reason. It was typical of Shindou, really. Anyone would have been flattered to be the subject of those particular rumours. A more detached person would have brushed the speculations away without thinking much on them. Shindou, however, had balked at the comparison, objected to them, and in a rash moment he had, fatally, denied them-which was of course taken as a confirmation, causing speculations to become even wilder.
Although Shindou returned to Japan regularly after his relocation, it was just not the same. Touya was glad that Shindou was back for good, even he still found himself surprised by the additions to Shindou's life.
Shindou's house, left to him by his grandfather, was a good fifty minutes away, in a quiet neighbourhood with good schools--such things mattered to Shindou, now. Even before Touya had taken off his shoes, he could hear loud footfalls heading in their direction, causing the floor to vibrate. "Just like a little monster," Shindou muttered, before a warm body collided into Touya, right on cue.
"Haku-niisan!" Shindou Kenji wrapped his arms around Touya's legs. "You're here! Welcome to our house! Come and play Go with me!" The words were delivered at high volume, while Touya tried to greet the younger Shindou son and get his shoes stowed neatly.
"What have I said about calling Touya 'Haku-niisan'?" Shindou asked as he took Touya's shoes from him, and restoring order with a firm yank on his son's shirt to get him to release Touya. Kenji gave a squeak and belatedly exclaimed, "Dad, you're back!"
"Oh, it's just Dad," the elder Shindou son came into view, crossing his arms in an unconscious imitation of Shindou at his most standoffish moment. "You're back." His eyes flicked towards Touya, and his expression grew warmer. "Please come in, Touya-san," he added.
"Good evening, Kenichi, Kenji," Touya said.
"Yes, I'm back," Shindou said to his elder son. "Did you prepare dinner?"
"I don't think it's fair for you to make me prepare dinner just because Mari-san is on leave," Kenichi said, referring to their housekeeper. "Besides, why didn't you tell me that Haku-niisan... I mean, Touya-san, was coming for dinner? What if I didn't make enough?"
"Che!" Shindou scoffed. "Then you'll eat instant ramen while Touya eats your share. Let's go to the dining room. Why are you all standing around here?"
Shindou always claimed that he had taught his sons to play Go out of self-defense--something about how hyperactive children drove him crazy, and it was either make them play Go or tie them up--but Touya thought that a love of the game had to be one of the reasons as well. He had imparted that love well; Kenji looked forward to playing Go every day, and even sullen-tempered Kenichi could be found at the salon on weekends, playing with his brother or with Shindou's students.
It was with regret that Touya turned down Kenji's eager pleas for a game. It was growing late, and it was a school night--and he had to get to the hospital. Shindou saw him to his car, his eyes worried. "I'll go and see Touya-sensei tomorrow," he promised.
To Shindou, 'Touya-sensei' would always mean Touya Kouyo. Never Touya Akira, because the two of them had called each other by name for as long as either of them could remember. Shindou was one of the very few people who did that, nowadays.
"You have a game tomorrow, Shindou," he reminded the other man. "With Watanabe eight-dan, remember? You have to defeat him to get if you want to be the final challenger for the Tengen title."
"I'll be ready," Shindou said, before his eyes brightened. "You came to play with me because you knew I have an official game tomorrow, didn't you? You were keeping track of my games?" he asked.
"The upcoming game schedule is in the Go Weekly, Shindou. Everyone knows that," Touya said, declining to address Shindou's first question.
"Yeah," Shindou said, but his tone was unconvinced. "Thank you, Touya. Sorry the boys are still calling you 'Haku-niisan'. Disrespectful brats."
"That's what happens when you use old anime shows as a child-rearing tool, Shindou," Touya said. He had watched the anime when it was first screened in the theatres, and had to endure teasing remarks from his classmates for weeks after. It seemed different when Kenichi and Kenji did it, though.
"Well, they were too young for Go then..." Shindou said, then shook his head. "It's late. Be careful on the road, Touya."
Touya nodded, getting into his car. "Goodnight, Shindou."
"Give Touya-sensei my regards," Shindou said.