Touya's phone shook his jacket, startling his stare from the sterile white wall. He dazedly reached into his pocket for his cell phone, feeling for the keys to turn off the power, finally relaxing when he heard the telltale jingle.
He hadn't slept in 24 hours, and it didn't look like he would anytime soon. He'd missed a game- the first ever. He thought about calling the institute to get it rescheduled, but the task seemed too daunting for his stupefied mind to accomplish.
He barely registered his mother at his side, her shoulders shaking. It made him uneasy to see her like this- she had always been so strong…
It shouldn't be a surprise. It was going to happen. It could happen, at any moment.
Briefly Touya wondered who had been calling him. He debated checking his messages, but remembered he was told to keep his cell phone off. He'd forgotten to do so at the time. Something about the equipment- he hadn't paid much attention to it, too distracted by other things.
He resumed his baffled stare, eyes tracing the frame of one of those inspirational posters for what must have been the hundredth time. His eyes drifted to the bottom corner, where some of the paint had been chipped, studying it over and over again. He tried to break his gaze, which only caused his lids to fall over his dried eyes.
He was tired. Exhausted. But he couldn't sleep. He could spend the rest of his life sleeping if he could only get through this one day.
A nurse came through the double doors, followed by a doctor in scrubs. Their faces were grim, and Touya gripped his seat, willing them to go to someone else- anyone else. For the first time in his life, he wished someone else would die.
They moved on down the hallway, and Touya's chest deflated. His mother just kept shaking, shoulders sagging in resignation.
Defeated.
His eyes burned. He fidgeted in his seat, hands restlessly gripping the seat, then his leg, then moved to push the hair from his eyes. It was hard to keep awake, but he imagined sleeping would be even worse. His mind was a jumble of memories, none making any sense but all so crisp he thought if he'd close his eyes he'd never come back.
Eyes staring at the fluorescent lights, he remembered his fathers hands, warm as they led him down the stairs of their one story home- large enough to live comfortably, but small enough for just three. His mother would kiss him on the cheek, then his father on the lips, and wish them good luck before resuming her cleaning. Closing his eyes, he could smell the garden, freshly trimmed as they walked up the path, heading towards the station, and inevitably the go salon. He remembered watching his father's games in awe, watching every stone but never really understanding what it meant.
He remembered the game that made him want to play go. He recreated it often. It was that day he had decided his dad was invincible. That he wanted to be just like him. He'd been enrolled in a class the next day.
He remembered how betrayed he'd felt. He'd wanted his father to teach him. But Touya Kouyo would have none of it. He spent his first year learning go without ever once playing against his father.
He remembered the first day his father asked him for a game. He'd been so excited he couldn't concentrate, and his father refused another game for months.
This time he was careful, calm. He hadn't won by any means, but for the first time he could understand that look on his fathers face. Pride.
He promised himself he'd win against his father one day.
He never did.
He'd lost sight of why he played, and he was being punished- or so he told himself. He'd become distracted with Shindou, with Sai, when what he really needed was under his nose the whole time. He thought of quitting being a pro and playing unofficially like his father did, then dismissed the thought. He hadn't the fame to make it a living without the pro wages.
The doors opened again, and Touya debated whether it would be better to face the possible bad news head on or turn away and greet it only when addressed.
He blinked his eyes into focus- the walls didn't seem as white as they were before, and Touya rubbed them vigorously, hoping to wipe the sleep away.
His hand felt in his pockets for his phone, warm from being pressed up against his belly. As his eyes met those of the gray-haired doctor searching for his face, he prayed that Shindou would somehow save him from what was to come.