Disclaimer: If I owned Hikaru no Go, I would have all the manga volumes and anime DVDs in my possession. As I don't, I think it's fairly obvious that I do not own the series. It belongs to Ms. Yumi Hotta and Mr. Takeshi Obata. I wish I did own a piece of fan art entitled "Death no Go," however. I cracked up. Now I might just have to think up a way to do a Death Note-Hikaru no Go crossover….

Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter Four: Waya and Isumi

Okay, now seriously, he never saw Mitani anymore. Why would he even matter? Waya and Isumi were the ones he hung out with, and he had never really helped them out significantly anyway….

(The asterisks still don't work.)

Waya and Isumi were high-fiving like crazy.

"Oh yeah, we did it, Isumi-san!" Waya whooped.

"Nice to meet you, Waya 1-dan," said Isumi, inclining his head a little jokingly.

"Same to you, man," said Waya. "We passed, we passed, yes!"

"Things are just going to get harder now that we're pro," Isumi fretted.

"Way to throw cold water on things," Waya said. "Forget about it! We passed. So – why don't we go out for cheap sushi?"

"Don't tell me I'm paying," said Isumi.

"You're the one who gets an allowance," Waya protested.

"Well…yes. And since I did win against you…"

"HEY!"

"My treat," Isumi decided. He paused. "Do you think we should invite Ochi?"

Waya blanched. "Why?"

"He passed, too."

"Nah," said Waya. "Let's go!"

At the restaurant, Isumi mused, "Things really are going to get harder, aren't they."

"But we're going to get way better," said Waya. "Dang it, I want to hurry up and play Touya. I'll cream him!"

"I think you're being too optimistic," Isumi said. "It's Touya. No one can beat him – no one's even close to being his rival, unless you count everybody who's a seven dan and up. He just got into the Hon'inbou League, you know."

"Don't remind me," Waya groaned. "Damn prodigy. Stick up his ass."

"Waya," said Isumi. "Let's just enjoy out celebrating."

"YES!" Waya said, punching the air. "WE PASSED! And seriously, Isumi-san, we will kick ass."

"Hopefully."

Waya thought he looked only a little older, even though he was eighteen now. He was fairly disappointed that he wasn't as tall as Isumi yet, a fact he was constantly reminded of due to Isumi's apartment being right next door to his.

Isumi had been down lately, so Waya had taken to knocking on the other pro's apartment every night to play a few rounds and get some pizza or cheap sushi. But Isumi hadn't seemed to cheer up at all.

Waya nearly sighed as he knocked yet again. Isumi finally opened the door after he began pounding on it.

"What is it, Waya?" Isumi asked, apparently on edge. "We've both got important games tomorrow."

Waya knew and nodded his agreement. He still voiced his explanation: "You just didn't act usual today. Something bothering you?"

"No," said Isumi.

Waya stayed put. "That's BS, Isumi-san, and you know it."

"Come in if you must," Isumi relented, stepping away from the doorway.

Waya entered and flopped one of the chairs Isumi had next to his computer, bookshelves, and Go board.

"What's eating you?" he asked again.

Isumi sighed heavily as he too sat. "We've both got important games tomorrow," he repeated.

"Yeah, so what? I'm playing Saeki – but I think I might beat him. We've got a chance to advance to the next round. And it's not like we're expected to get past round two – it's the tournament for who gets to challenge Kuwabara Hon'inbou. Although if we do lose the first round tomorrow we're going to get chewed out. Or at least I am, by Morishita-sensei," said Waya.

"My opponent is Touya," Isumi said tersely. "I don't have a chance."

"That sucks," said Waya sympathetically. "That asshole is totally ruthless nowadays. Doesn't talk to anybody, is too damn polite–"

"Waya. He does so talk to people – Ogata Juudan, Ashiwara-sensei–"

"And that's it, and they're in his freaking study group! Cream him, Isumi-san! You can do it," Waya said, pounding his fist into his other hand for emphasis.

"I just feel off my game," said Isumi. "And it's been that way for months – ever since I lost twenty in a row. I'm not cut out to be a pro, Waya – why did I ever try in the first place?"

"Seriously, Isumi-san, you're good," Waya assured him. "We're evenly matched. You're a three dan. C'mon. Just cause you can't beat Pretty-Prodigy-Touya–"

"I've reached a wall," Isumi interrupted. "I just keep…staying at this level. Like I've hit a never-ending plateau, or something."

"It'll end eventually," said Waya. "Just give it a few weeks. Get a couple more wins. For now, though, let's just get pizza." He whipped out his cell phone. "I've got it on speed dial."

Isumi rolled his eyes and forgot, for a moment, that he was doomed to lose the next day.

A year later, Isumi still felt he was on the plateau, despite Waya's constant pep-talks that he should be more confident and know that he was just in a phase or something.

Isumi did not believe his best friend, especially now that Waya was better than he was. It was as if he was still an insei, struggling to stay at the level he should be, not improving at all. He had thought that feeling would change after he passed the pro test.

But it had not.

His parents grew concerned when they saw him; Waya knocked on his door three times a day now – or at least called. Finally, his mother came to him with a suggestion: she and his father were planning on going to China; would he like to take a break from the regular Go schedule here and go with them?

Isumi finally decided yes, and told Waya.

"Email," his friend reminded. "And I'll call you the minute I beat that damn Touya."

Isumi laughed. "All right," he said cheerfully. But in reality, he despaired for Waya, who would probably never beat Touya Akira 8-dan.

(Yes, I apologize for the asterisks.)

He had left for China with his parents the next day.

The spent the first few weeks traveling in the county, sightseeing. His Mandarin improved drastically. (He had chosen that language to study in high school and it had been rusty. Now, however, he was back to his level of near-fluency.) Finally, his parents decided to spend a month in Beijing. One day, he had nothing to do, and by chance came across the Chinese Go Association.

He hesitated for along time outside it; finally, he went inside.

"Hello," he told the receptionist. "I'm a pro visiting from Japan; I was wondering if I could watch a few games."

"Sure," he was told, and sent to the fourth floor (where the students and pros who lived in the Go Association and its surrounding buildings relaxed). He was also directed to floor two if he wanted to observe any professional games; however, there were none at this time, check back tomorrow.

He got off the elevator and opened a door to a hallway, nearly getting run over by someone a half-foot shorter than he was.

"Waya! What're you doing here?" he exclaimed in surprise (and Japanese).

The boy looked up at him and said, "Are you foreign or something?" in Mandarin.

"Oh, sorry," Isumi responded in the same language. "It's just that I'm a visiting pro from Japan, and you look exactly like another pro I know, Waya 4-dan."

"LE PING! GET BACK HERE!" a voice yelled from the other end of the hallway. "YOU HAVEN'T STUDIED FOR A FULL HOUR YET! COME BACK HERE AND LOOK AT THE GAME RECOOOOOOOOOOOOOORDS!"

"Gotta run," the preteen said, smiling mischeviously as he pushed around Isumi and skipped the elevator, sprinting down the stairs instead.

An angry-looking man who looked about Isumi's age ran out of a room near the end of the corridor. "LE PI – oh, sorry, I thought you were–" he started.

"No trouble," said Isumi. "He went up on the elevator."

"Thanks," the man said, running past him and sprinting up the stairs.

Isumi smiled and walked down them, intending to find this Le Ping again. He did a half-hour later, in the public playing rooms.

He sat down across from where the boy was napping and said, "Hey, are you studying to be a pro?"

"Yeah," said Le Ping, lifting his head. "I'm gonna pass this year. Who're you, anyway? You're foreign."

"I'm Isumi, and I'm visiting Beijing for a month."

"So you're Japanese? Man, they suck at Go, they lose all the tournaments," Le Ping smirked. "I keep telling my friends not to get worked up over tryouts for those things. Studying's so boring. Yeah…the game's gone in Japan."

He was so like Waya, who was so brash but supportive of his friends.

"Maybe so," Isumi said, knowing that only Touya Akira and the title holders won anything internationally. "But I am a pro, you know."

"Oh? Play me, then – speed Go," Le Ping said, setting up the board. "Two seconds per move – go!" And he placed a black stone.

Isumi went back to the Chinese Go Association every day. He watched as Le Ping began to take the pro test, made friends with the other younger pros his age, and finally felt as if he were improving. So when his parents said to be ready to leave in a week, he told them he was going to play in China's professional system from now on. He was taking private Chinese lessons; he was at the college level now for his own language.

His parents had been surprised, but, since Isumi was overage, could do nothing about it. Instead, they supported him in his decision, glad to see their son happy for once. Although his confidence was still a fragile thing, he at least felt satisfied with his life.

Le Ping was secretly thrilled to hear the news and expressed his delight by placing a whoopee cushion on every chair Isumi sat in. The other Chinese pros were also pleased. They had grown to like Isumi, and recognized that he was improving more and more every day. His plateau was gone; his one regret was that he didn't miss Japan at all. Except for Waya. Maybe, if Waya hadn't been the only one who believed in him and helped his confidence, he would not have gone to China in the first place. But Waya was basically his only true friend, and now he was making many more in China.

He wondered how Waya would take the news.

"WHAT THE HELL!" Waya screamed at the computer when the email came through. "YOU FREAKING BASTARD, YOU CAN'T JUST STAY!"

His phone rang. It was the owner of the building, telling him that the other residents hoped he would shut up. This made Waya yell louder for a time, then collapse on his bed, thinking of the empty apartment next to them. He was alone, really. He could call up Fuku or Nase or Honda, but Isumi was his best friend, for God's sake!

Go really wasn't that fun anymore….

(And...the asterisks.)

Yeah, he felt for Waya and Isumi. That just sucked. Maybe, by helping Isumi and becoming another friend to Waya, he had helped. (And maybe he was helping Waya get over his Touya's-a-bastard attitude. But since he also thought that sometimes – especially when he lost five in a row to the guy – he didn't help all that often.) Whatever. Their lives weren't destroyed. They could get over it…. Couldn't they?

(I now kill the asterisks.)

This is the first chapter I really like. The others were kind of build up until this point. I love Waya and Isumi. YAY. Please review! (Unfortunately, the next chapter is the only thing I haven't written yet. I'll get on it, I promise!) I apologize for the late updating, but I'm doing what I can. Pure Shikon can attest to the fact that the school I attend is quite rigorous; ergo, we get hours of homework. So, I'll do my best to get the next chapter out! Thanks again:)