DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hikaru no Go, or any of its characters or components.

Chance

by Genie

"That Go board is something my brother bought from an antique shop out of curiosity. Then, when my brother died, it was given to me as a memoir of him."

- Episode 19

They watched him walk slowly up and down the aisles. He was an antique in an antique store – a regular, they were told. He was well past his glory years, and innumerable lines on his face showed a history of too much work, and not enough fun. His whole persona seemed to sag downwards, to the earth, and he walked as if the weight of the world had been unfairly placed on his shoulders.

It was dark that particular day in the store. There was a power outage – a result of the infamous heat wave that had recently overtaken Japan – and, since it was still daytime, the store owners were counting on natural sunlight to light their shelves. This antique store in particular was going out of business, and was holding a close-out sale.

He was the only one that showed up.

They eyed him carefully, warily, as he wandered absentmindedly throughout the store, browsing for items of value. Just as he sighed and decided it was time to leave, invisible tendrils wrapped around him, gently, changing his mind and urging him deeper into the store, into a dark and faraway corner beckoning for his arrival. He obliged, because there was nothing else to do.

And there, lying on a wooden shelf that splintered in every direction, was an old goban. It was covered in dust – everything was. The dust flew in the air, suspended, illuminated by what few rays of sunlight survived... He choked, and it suffocated him willingly. They watched him eagerly now, for this moment was critical.

His eyes fell on the goban, and rested there. He squinted and rubbed his eyes – was that blood there, staining the surface of this otherwise beautiful antique? But, when he opened his eyes again, the blood was gone. A simple trick of the light, he assumed. A pair of hands – they were his, as it turned out – grabbed the goban and brought it up the cashier. The kind young lady put it into a sturdy cardboard box for him and asked if he would like it bagged. He shook his head no and instead pulled out his wallet. The antique cost him exactly 1800 yen, a definite bargain on any day.

In an almost dreamlike state, he carried the heavy box out of the store and started the short walk home, for his apartment was conveniently placed directly across the street. He watched, feeling rather tired all of a sudden, as the traffic lights turned color and he was allowed access to walk. The climb up the stairs seemed more exhausting than usual, and as he put the key into the hole, he realized that he could not remember what it was he had bought from the antique store.

As he entered his apartment building, he placed the brown cardboard box on his kitchen counter and opened it. Inside lay the goban, with a receipt for 1800 yen.

He did not play Go.

The goban went back into its box, and stored away in his attic. He remembered quite suddenly that his brother often played Go, and made a mental note to give him the goban one day. With that thought still in mind, the old man climbed into bed and decided to take a nap.

As they watched him sleep, they looked up and eyed each other warily. They simultaneously shook their heads.

He would not be the one.

The gods had decided.

-fin-

it's kinduh short, but yeah...
please leave a review! n.n

-Genie