Disclaimer: All characters and specifics of "Hikaru no Go" are copyrighted Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha and Studio Pierrot. All rights reserved. This fanfiction is property of Shikami Yamino and is not intended for any monetary purpose nor an infringement of copyright laws. No one is to post/host/use any aspect of this fanfic without explicit permission from the author.
Notes: Well... ^^;; I really don't know what to say except thank you to all those who waited patiently for this part to come out. I'm currently blaming school, a recent bout of Gundam Seed fanaticism and Akira's reluctance to see the truth for the delay *L*
To Dark Cyradis: yes, I am from down under ^_^
To purple hotagi: no, the Hokuto Cup arc exists only in the manga
And to Merellia: as to whether Waya would call Isumi-san "Isumi-san" during private moments... *sheepish smile* it's always been a funny issue with me because I tend to call Isumi "Isumi-san" *L* But aside from that, I can't really imagine Waya calling Isumi-san "Shinichirou" and I can't really imagine Isumi-san calling Waya "Yoshitaka" *sweatdrops* And as for the "-san" honorific, I'd imagine that they'd be getting over it soon, but for now, I'm gonna stick with the timeless adage that old habits die hard *grins* Look for references to their names in future chapters though ^_~
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Since the original part 11 was much MUCH too long, I decided to split them up into halves (Part I and Part II). There is no doubt that this and the part after it were the hardest parts to write to date. Akira was happily oblivious, and writing those oblivious actions is much easier than trying to set his thoughts on the right track *L* This was the main reason for the numerous edits and re-writes that occurred for this part since I really wanted to keep Akira as in character (for BD) as I could and out of the realm of major angst (which I was EXTREMELY tempted to do ^_~ Me = angst writer at heart). As a result, I'm not really sure if I've actually succeeded ^^;;; guess it's up to you guys to tell me *L* So without further ado...
Hikaru no Go: "Blind Descent"
by Shikami Yamino
Part 11 - Right Before my Eyes ~ I ~
Two weeks into his stay in Korea, Akira was seriously becoming homesick. This was not to say that he wasn't enjoying his trip. To the contrary, studying with all the top Korean pros and kenkyuusei at the Korean Go Institute had been an extremely fascinating and educational experience. It was only when he returned to his hotel room at the end of every day that thoughts of home bombarded his otherwise occupied mind.
He missed the quiet comfort of his apartment. While the hotel room was certainly more than adequate for his current needs, it still wasn't a place where he felt comfortable padding around in less than formally presentable attire. He missed genuine Japanese food. Home-delivered sushi and okonomiyaki and, dare he think it, even Shindou's ramen.
But most of all, he missed just being Touya Akira. Over the years, since Shindou had breezed into his life, he had begun to distinguish Touya Akira, the boy, from Touya 6-dan, the go pro.
Touya 6-dan was infallibly polite, calm, focused and impervious; yet he was also possessed of a ruthlessness on the goban that very few could ever hope to match. Touya 6-dan could intimidate opponents from across the board with a simple look. Touya 6-dan was the face he showed the outside world, the flawless professional inside the body of a mere teenage boy.
Touya Akira, on the other hand, *was* that boy. Touya Akira enjoyed sleeping in when the opportunity arose. Touya Akira was the one stumbling around the apartment in the morning still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he tries and fails to avoid crashing into the furniture. Touya Akira revelled in the immaturity of the insults he and Shindou flung at each other on a daily basis. Touya Akira was more than that flawless professional he presented to the outside world.
Unfortunately, Touya Akira also had no place here in Korea among all the people that admired and sought to challenge his professional strength. It wasn't the first time since Shindou had appeared in his life that he'd wondered how he had ever survived those fledgling years when go had been the be-all and end-all of his life. It was, however, the first time that there had been no conceivable reprieve from the Touya 6-dan mask; and after two weeks without the respite that being at home brought him while he was in Japan and among friends, especially Shindou, the strain was undeniably taking its toll.
Walking into the Korean Go Institute on the morning of the start of his last week in Korea, Akira mentally steeled himself. After a whirlwind of planned activities and games for the last two weeks, today was meant to have been a free day for him. With nothing scheduled, he'd been informed that he was free to tour the city or any of the popular tourist destinations if he so wished. Nevertheless, he'd found himself back here at the Go Institute, looking for a free goban on which to recreate some games and regain some mental balance.
As he made his way over to the public playing rooms, a comment from behind him stopped him in his tracks.
"Touya Akira. Fancy meeting you here."
Akira turned and smiled a polite acknowledgement at the tall pro with long auburn hair. "Ko Yongha, it's nice to see you again."
The Korean pro sauntered up casually, a faint arrogant twist playing on his smile as he nodded. "It's been a while. Your Korean is improving." The lazy grin that was Ko Yongha's trademark widened. "Care for a game? If you have time, of course."
Eyes hardening at the subtle challenge, Akira's smile was considerably cooler when he replied, "Lead the way."
After several meetings during the first and subsequent Hokuto Cup tournaments, strong ties had formed between the top young members of the Japanese, Korean and Chinese professional go worlds. Since all three teams had attended the rematch between Shindou and Hong Suyong after the first Hokuto Cup, it had been a tacit agreement by the team managers that the opportunity for their top young players to pit themselves against their foreign counterparts was too good to pass up. As a result, it had almost become a tradition for the visiting teams to delay their return to their home countries after the Hokuto Cup by a few days in order to take advantage of said opportunity.
During these periods of intense concentration and game play, a healthy dose of respect had been nurtured between all those who participated. While some bonds had strengthened into that of friendship, such as that between Hikaru and Suyong, the same could not be said of Ko Yongha. Evidently, the volatile events of the first Hokuto Cup would not be so easily forgotten.
Studying his opponent as they sat down in a discreet corner of the almost empty public playing room, Akira deduced that the Korean 6-dan hadn't changed much, appearance wise, from the last time they'd played each other more than a year and a half ago. Only the pending game would tell of any changes in his skills.
Being a year older, Yongha hadn't been eligible for this year's Hokuto Cup, ending the annual Shindou Hikaru and Ko Yongha showdown that had been a main attraction at previous tournaments. But while Akira had never played the auburn-haired Korean professionally, there had been plenty of chances to gauge each other's strength at the matches following the Hokuto Cup.
A few years ago, many reporters and go fans had frequently speculated that a rivalry between Touya Akira and Ko Yongha would have been even more spectacular than the acknowledged one that existed between the former Meijin's son and Shindou Hikaru. At the time, Akira had conceded that he and Ko Yongha were, indeed, closer in strength than he and Shindou had been. However, he had also recognised that if they had become rivals, he and Ko Yongha would only ever be able to push each other so far. They were extremely competitive, but they were not rivals.
While Akira was never as arrogant or openly cocky as Yongha liked to appear in public, it was obvious from both experience and kifu that they shared the same relentlessly aggressive attitude in their pursuit of the win and the same uncompromising confidence in their own abilities. It was that similarity in their playing styles that made them poor rivals compared to Shindou's innovation and razor-sharp creativity.
To an extent, Akira knew that Yongha recognised it too. Why else would the Korean pro doggedly provoke Shindou at every opportunity each time they encountered the other, if not in the hope that Shindou would get aggravated enough to accept the challenge?
It was a process that Akira had always felt strangely smug about not having to go through, every time he wanted to play Shindou.
Settling quickly into the game, Yongha having taken black, fuseki came and went in the blink of an eye, both of them eager to begin the battle. As the middle game progressed, they found themselves in an arduous struggle for the lower left, the territory having proven itself to be crucial in the outcome of the game.
Akira studied the board, his face a mask of fierce concentration. He was at a slight disadvantage that would become fatal if he failed to make it up before yose. Like many higher 'dan's, Ko Yongha's yose techniques were flawless; to hope for a mistake during yose to make up the difference was to severely underestimate the Korean pro.
Rapidly considering and subsequently discarding possible moves in his head, Akira's winter blue eyes were soon unerringly drawn to one inconspicuous intersection of lines. It was not a move that most would contemplate; yet intuition and experience gleaned from hundreds of games told him that it was the move best suited to his purpose. With a distinct 'pa-chi', he laid his white stone down decisively, eyes never leaving the board.
Ko Yongha eyed the new stone on the board with caution. It was a move he had anticipated but dismissed for its inefficiency. He had expected Touya to extend white's reach into the right and in the same move set up the foundations for an attack on black's loose shape in that area. Instead, the Japanese pro had simply chosen to defend against black's threat from the center.
The deceptively simple appearance of the move was what made it dangerous. And though Yongha was ahead, the lead was so small that the tiniest measure of complacency could tip the scales in the Japanese pro's favor. But no matter how far ahead he read, he had yet to see another purpose for the move and so opted to extend his lead rather than contest that one stone.
As the black stone made contact with the board, Akira allowed himself a tiny mental smile of satisfaction. Outwardly, he merely picked up a stone and continued to press, knowing that the end was in sight.
~~
"I resign."
"Thank you for the game."
With a low exhale, both players leaned back in their seats, eyes fixed on the final pattern of black and white.
"You've improved," Yongha commented.
"Thank you," Akira replied with a nod of acknowledgement and a faint smile; coming from Ko Yongha, it was high praise indeed. "You too. It was a tough game, as always."
Amber-brown eyes continued to scan the board as Yongha's lips turned up in amusement. "You and Shindou are beginning to rub off on each other, though I suppose it was inevitable."
Akira raised a politely inquisitive eyebrow, not at all surprised that Shindou had come up in the course of conversation. To date, Shindou had never failed to show up in any of their conversations. "How so?"
"This move here," Yongha said, gesturing to a particular stone, "is more reminiscent of his style than your customary aggressiveness."
Inspecting the stone and recalling the move that had placed it there, Akira smiled wryly. "As you said, perhaps it was inevitable given how often we play each other."
Gazing steadily into midnight-blue eyes for a moment at that remark, Yongha smirked before returning his eyes to the goban. "Actually, I'm surprised that he didn't come with you on this trip, given the way you two are attached at the hip and all."
A blink was all the surprise Akira allowed himself at this turn in the topic of conversation. "Excuse me?"
Yongha lifted his eyes leisurely, subtly letting his companion know that he was continuing this conversation only because he felt like it. From anyone else, it would have been a blatant insult, yet for Ko Yongha, it was simply a part of his character. But that didn't mean Akira had to like it.
"Suyong told me that you two had moved in together."
Akira frowned as he stated matter-of-factly, "We don't live together."
Yongha smirked. "My apologies. I believe Suyong's words were, and I quote, 'They've moved in next to each other, but from what I saw, they might as well be living together.'"
The inconspicuous narrowing of wintery midnight blue eyes was the only sign of Akira's veiled irritation at the Korean pro treading into unwelcome territory. His voice was, to the contrary, completely nonchalant as he replied, "Suyong is, of course, entitled to his opinion, however incorrect he may be."
Leaning back into his seat, Yongha laughed quietly as he regarded Akira in amusement; almost like a spider that was content to sit back and watch its prey struggle in the confines of its web simply because it knew that those struggles were futile. "You'd be surprised at how correct he can be at times."
"Really." It wasn't a question, but a succinct statement that embodied Akira's increasing ire and conveyed a tacit recommendation that the current conversation be put to a halt as soon as civilly possible.
Needless to say, the confident Korean pro felt no compunction to follow such advice.
"Suyong's a perceptive kid. He sees a lot of things that most people don't. And not *just* on the go board either." Yongha raised an auburn eyebrow meaningfully, practically taunting Akira into responding to the implications of that statement.
Avoiding the taunt gracefully, as he would any other trap on the go board, Akira simply said, "Shindou and I are friends. Nothing more, nothing less."
Yongha smiled knowingly. "Not comfortable talking about it, are you?" The brazen grin was accompanied by an elegant shrug, though his eyes never left Akira's. "Though I can't say that I'm actually surprised. Like I said, it was probably inevitable, given that you two were always more considerate and affectionate than simple rivals or friends would be."
In response, Akira smiled with a customary gentility that somehow didn't make it into his eyes. "Given that you haven't seen us in more than a year, I wouldn't think that you'd be in a position to make that sort of judgement, Yongha."
"I don't have to be," Yongha returned easily, waving the statement away with a careless hand. "It was obvious enough the last time I was in Japan. By now, you could probably finish each other's sentences if you wanted to. The same way you can imitate each other's go." He flashed that lazy smile again, his tone of voice light. "Believe me, sometimes it's almost nauseating how in tune with each other you both are.
"But of course, you don't have to take my word for it." That statement was conceded almost graciously with a fluid roll of Yongha's shoulders. "I suspect that your Isumi 5-dan could probably tell you the same thing." Flickering the briefest of sly smiles up at the Japanese pro, Yongha centered his attention on returning the scattered black stones to his go-ke.
Hands moving of their own accord and out of pure habit to gather his own white stones, Akira frowned inwardly. But before he could reply, the Korean pro had already risen from his seat with a satisfied grin.
"While I'd love to stay and chat, I'm afraid that I'll be late for my appointment. Of course, give my regards to Shindou."
Akira nodded amicably as he stood up as well, giving no outward sign of his puzzled thoughts or irritation but for the hard light in his eyes. "Shindou asked me to relay his regards as well."
Yongha smirked. "I'm sure he did, but perhaps in not such polite terms." Chuckling to himself, the Korean performed the traditional courtesy bow with his customarily subtle yet distinctive flair. "As always, it's been a pleasure."
"Likewise," Akira said, returning the gesture.
As he walked to the door, Yongha turned his head to shoot a parting comment over his shoulder. "Try not to miss him too much." Then with a last smug smile and an insolent wave, he was out the door.
Tracking his opponent's exit until he disappeared from view, Akira sighed and shook his head discreetly as he re-seated himself. It was evident from that exchange that while Ko Yongha's skills on the goban had improved a great deal, his mannerisms still left a lot to be desired. Not unlike the display in the first Hokuto Cup, the Korean still possessed that same urge to 'stir the pot'; so supremely confident in his own abilities to weather any resulting storms that he was happy to sit back, relax and watch the show unfold.
It was the aspect of Ko Yongha's personality that Shindou loathed with a vengeance. And after today, Akira had to admit that he wasn't so fond of it either. Especially when it was directed at his personal life.
Shaking his head once more, he resolutely pushed the unproductive thoughts away and concentrated on the goban in front of him. Placing both go-ke beside himself, Akira began laying the stones in the pattern of yesterday's exhibition game. He had won by six and a half moku, yet it had been a narrow escape in his eyes. Mentally going over the game later in the solitude of his hotel room had revealed an opening which he was positive Shindou would have jumped all over had it been the bleached-blonde who sat in the opposite chair.
"How the hell could you have missed that opening there?! All he would have had to do was play a stone here and black would have ruined that shape in less than ten hands!"
The scathing comment would have been accompanied by emphatic gestures at the place in question while Shindou's eyes flashed with irritation.
Unbidden, the corner of Akira's lips twitched at the image as he laid the black stone on the point in question. He scanned the board again, noting the way in which Shindou would have taken advantage of white's weak outline. It was a thought process that had almost become ingrained when he was going over games by himself.
Moving to counter-attack, Akira played the next few hands without interruption. Yet as new positions and combinations were tried and countered, it became painfully apparent that the mistake he had made in overlooking that opening would have been a fatal one had he made it during a game with his rival.
Akira shook his head wryly. He could almost hear Shindou's half-accusing and half-concerned voice in his head at such an uncharacteristic blunder.
"Did you hit your head or something?! You never make a mistake like this! Get your head out of the clouds stupid!"
And his own reflex retort.
"I am NOT stupid!"
Had they been playing in his father's go salon, they would have both stood up, slammed both hands down on the table and got in each other's faces as the insults continued to fly. At least until Shindou pushed back his chair and with a loud "I'm leaving!" stalked out of the go salon at an angrily exaggerated stride.
Akira laughed inwardly. It probably would have been a 'discussion' worthy of giving the ever-cheerful Ichikawa-san a headache, even considering how accustomed she must have become to their arguments.
Had they been playing at home however, the argument would have eventually just simmered down and disappeared completely once one of them left his seat to fetch drinks or snacks. They had worked out fairly early on since they'd started playing in each other's apartments that it wasn't really appropriate for Shindou to stalk out every time they argued; which was also every time they played. This was especially so when it meant that Shindou would sometimes be stalking out of his own apartment.
Unable to keep the smile from his lips, Akira remembered the first time they'd argued after playing a game in Shindou's apartment. After his rival's ritual leaving and slamming the door routine, he'd sat at the goban still in the middle of his rival's living room and blinked. But as per the routine, he'd begun the process of clearing the board to prepare for his own exit. Just as he'd finished however, there'd come a knock on the door.
When he'd gotten up to open it, there stood a red-faced Shindou Hikaru who'd stammeringly admitted to having left his keys in the apartment. The episode had ended with him smirking in amusement while the bleached-blonde continued to scowl at him from the other side of the threshold. Then both of them had burst into laughter and Shindou walked into his own apartment with an embarrassed hand tangled in his blonde bangs.
That had been the first time they'd broken their established post-game routine. Nowadays, Shindou was much more likely to simply quieten down and ask him what was wrong after the obligatory irritation and half-accusations.
It was somehow almost uncanny the way his rival could read him like an open book; knowing without asking when something was bothering Akira or simply when Akira just wanted a quiet, soothing silence as opposed to their usual banter. But then, by the same token, Akira had to admit that he probably knew Shindou just as well. Such as the fact that there was always a week before Boy's Day when a cloud seemed to shadow the usually bright green eyes. It was then that the fan, which usually only appeared during Shindou's pro matches, never left his rival's side.
He supposed that it was just a side effect from having been friends for so long.
//By now, you could probably finish each other's sentences if you wanted to. The same way you can imitate each other's go. Believe me, sometimes it's almost nauseating how in tune with each other you both are.//
Akira started as Yongha's words surfaced in his mind, almost making him drop the black stone he hadn't realized he was still holding. Fumbling with it, he shook himself back to reality and trained his eyes back onto the goban. But the distraction was enough that perhaps for the first time in his life since he'd started playing go, he failed to see anything but black and white dots scattered on a wood-grained backdrop.
Brow furrowing as he focused his concentration on the board, the black and white dots were finally beginning to coalesce into the recognisable shapes he'd been creating when another memory derailed his thoughts.
//They've moved in next to each other, but from what I saw, they might as well be living together.//
Sighing, Akira slumped back into his seat and decided to call it a day. There was obviously no more concentration to be had while he sat at this table when Yongha's words were still floating in his head. Especially, he thought ruefully, when even his thoughts were beginning to take on the Korean pro's irritatingly smug tone.
Carefully replacing the stones back into their respective containers, the Japanese pro gently pushed out of his seat and made his way to the doors. Stepping out into the chilly mid-December weather, Akira shook his head at himself in mild disgust at letting Yongha's words throw him off his concentration.
While he certainly wasn't as worldly as other young men his age, it didn't mean that he was completely clueless about such matters. He understood exactly what it was that the Korean pro had been insinuating about his relationship with his rival. After all, he'd taken the relationship between Isumi-san and Waya fully in stride and with no real surprise, hadn't he?
But to shine that kind of a light on his and Shindou's friendship was an idea so preposterous that it shouldn't bear any more thought than the conversation had already entailed. They were simply nothing like Isumi-san and Waya. For one thing, he'd never seen Isumi-san and Waya argue half as much or as heatedly as he and Shindou did.
So then the question was: why did the idea niggle insistently at the back of his mind like a move that was just waiting to be tested out on the goban? So much so that he was unable to concentrate until he'd worked it through?
Lost in his thoughts, Akira absently tucked his hands into his coat pockets to avoid the wind and slowly began the walk back to the hotel.
It was true that he and Shindou were good friends. Akira would probably even venture to say that they were the best of friends, given the time they'd spent with each other over the seven years of their acquaintance. They certainly hadn't exactly understood each other very well when they'd first met, each of them standing in a completely different world to the other. One of them a typical twelve-year-old boy, the other the prodigy son of a world-renowned go master. Yet somehow they'd latched onto the other as firmly as Akira had latched onto Shindou's wrist on that fateful day seven years ago, and then pulled and bullied and chased each other until they'd arrived at where they were today.
With a smile that was instinctive, Akira recalled that day when he had first confronted Shindou in front of a subway station and challenged him to a game. He could still clearly remember Shindou's offhand remarks about becoming a go pro and his own heated replies. He remembered offering his hand to the bleached-blonde boy as he issued the challenge. Then as the sky opened up and the rain drenched everything still standing in the streets, he hadn't waited for an answer before snatching Shindou's wrist and dragging him back into the subway station.
Almost in answer to his thoughts, thunder rumbled overhead seconds before the first raindrops began to stain the pavement. Chancing a look upwards at the sky, Akira grimaced at the dark clouds before he was forced to sprint for the shelter of the awning of a nearby apartment building.
As the spackle of raindrops became a steady shower, Akira huddled under his dubious shelter and rolled his eyes at himself. Sometimes, it seemed that he had the worst luck with rain. He ran a hand over his hair in the futile hopes of removing the worst of the moisture, peering out into the sudden gloom that had enveloped the street. It didn't look as if the rain would let up anytime soon and waiting here was simply not a good idea when it was getting colder and windier by the minute.
Understandably, he was not amused at having a sense of déjà vu wash over him. Firstly, he definitely didn't enjoy being sick, and secondly, Shindou would kill him if he managed to return from Korea with another case of the cold. But unless he was prepared to stand here and be battered by the growingly slanted rain until whoever was upstairs saw fit to decide that they'd had enough fun at his sodden expense -- which didn't look likely either -- he had no choice but to make a dash for the hotel.
Looking heavenward once more, Akira whispered a single prayer of thanks that his hotel was at least closer from his current shelter than his apartment had been from the restaurant.
End Part 11... to be continued.
Author's Notes: Firstly, don't lynch me for leaving it there *L* This next part is meant to be read as the direct continuation of this so this part is essentially unfinished -- which explains the lack of plot development ^^;; And secondly, the second half is written and in its last stages of editing so it WILL be out soon *L*
For those who are interested in my portrayal of Ko Yongha, the spider reference probably describes my impression of him most effectively (see Chapter 175-177 of the manga) ^_^ I simply see him as an extremely observant, confident and antagonistic character but essentially without any ill intentions. Not the most likable of characters but an interesting character to write nonetheless *L* And as for Akira -- well... this is the side of him that we don't see when he's interacting with Hikaru ^_^ The boy's still got quite a bit of bark and bite left in him (though he's about as dense as a log ^^;;) -- even if I do tend to portray him like a puppy most of the time *grins*
Coming up: The conclusion to "Right Before my Eyes". And Hikaru makes a cameo!! ^^;;; sorta... I love them too much to separate them for too long *L*