Chapter 6: Looking Back, Moving Forward

Onomichi. Hikaru had been here exactly one year ago. How odd it seemed, that the place would appear so new and alien to him. But again, he had been so anxious then, so full of anticipation ... rushing forward to a future that did not exist and blinded to the world that did. His heart throbbed as the pain of those repeated disappointments resurfaced in a wave of nostalgia. It was only a dull ache now, like that of an old scar, gradually healing ... and fading away. Hikaru was afraid of that. He did not want the hurt to disappear; he did not want the tears to dry so completely – he did not want to forget. And so he had turned down a job and traveled to Onomichi, then soon onwards to Innoshima – so he would not forget.

Hikaru scanned the area outside Onomichi Station. He and Kawai-san had taken a bus to Innoshima from this station last year. Spying a familiar bus stop to the left, he strolled in that direction, taking lazy ambling steps that allowed him to observe the scene around him: families, friends, couples and a few people here and there walking alone, like himself. He had been with Kawai-san when he was here the first time, but peculiarly enough, he had felt more alone last year than on this day.

It was not a long wait before a bus arrived, its destination displayed boldly above the front window: Innoshima. He clambered on and found himself a window seat. The bus shuddered slightly as the driver stepped on the gas, and soon the city was in motion before him. Trees and telephone poles whizzed by, and they soon broke through the clutter of buildings and onto a bridge over the wide expanse of the sea. The gentle swells on the surface of the water glittered in the late morning sun and seagulls in the purest of whites hovered effortlessly in the air. The sky was a vivid shade of blue, one of those rare skies one thought only existed in picture-perfect photographs, almost clear except for a single fluff of cloud scudding gaily towards the horizon. He vaguely remembered that the weather had been good the previous year too, and if pressed further, would admit to possibly recalling a few specks of white in the sky. But today was truly the first time he was appreciating the island's beauty.

Once the bus reached Innoshima, Hikaru disembarked at the first stop. He watched the bus recede from his vision, and then looked around. The waters separating Innoshima from the mainland were still in sight; the steady breeze that blew in from over the sea was cool and carried the salty tang of the ocean air. He inhaled deeply, his body feeling alive down to his fingertips and toes. The wind ran its playful fingers through his hair, whipping it into a semblance of a messy bird's nest. He stood there, unmoving, wishing that Sai was beside him, dancing his enthusiasm as he had always done.

The last time he had come to Innoshima, he had spent two days scurrying here and there, visiting all known Shuusaku memorials in existence, searching desperately for any sign of Sai. This time, his destination was one place only: Shuusaku's tomb at Ishikiri Temple. He strolled through the town, in what he hoped was the general direction of the temple. A florist's shop came into view, the scent of roses and jasmine and other flowers he couldn't name mingling together in an aromatic haze around the store. Hikaru simply walked past it, never having paid much attention to things of that sort, but it eventually occurred to him that a visit to a grave wouldn't be quite complete without an offering of flowers. Doubling back, he peered among the vibrant array of blooms that adorned the store and selected a small bouquet of freshly cut chrysanthemums.

His wanderings eventually brought him to a bold red torii at the entrance to Ishikiri Temple. He stepped in to find himself in an oasis of calm, as if the fence that surrounded the temple was a charm that warded away the hectic bustle of daily life. He drifted through the meticulously groomed garden, absorbed in the sound of his shoes raking against the gravelly path and the soundlessness of ripples wrinkling the surface of the koi pond.

"Oh!" came a sudden exclamation. "Haven't you been here before?" The person addressing him was a middle-aged woman with cropped hair, straightening up from the bonsai tree she was tending. She gave him a motherly smile as she brushed some dirt off the knees of her pants.

"Eh? Umm, yes, I came here once a year ago." Hikaru cocked his head and looked at her in amazement. "You remember me?"

"Oh," the curator replied with a hearty laugh, "my memory isn't all that spectacular. But the Shuusaku museum doesn't get that many visitors and most of them are older people anyway. There aren't a lot of youngsters coming around here – especially kids with bleached hair like yourself!" She stowed her tools away on a low shelf and motioned for him to follow.

"It's heart-warming to see someone so young take such an interest in these things," she gushed effusively as she made her way to the door of the museum.

"Um ... that's alright!" Hikaru called out hurriedly, "I'm just going to visit Shuusaku's grave today."

"His grave?" The lady stopped and eyed him curiously. Noticing the flowers he held in his hand, her face softened as she sighed, "Chrysanthemums ... I don't think I even remember the last time anyone brought flowers to that grave ..."

Feeling a little awkward, Hikaru scratched the back of his head somewhat self-consciously. "Ah ... well, it's nothing really. I just happened to see these flowers and thought I'd bring them along." He slowly edged towards the steps leading to the temple's hilly cemetery. "Uh, I'll just be off now ... I think I remember where his grave was."

"Oh, alright." She blinked, as if thrown off by the sudden end to the conversation. "Well, have a good day. Come by the museum later if you have time!"

Hikaru waved and climbed up the stairs that led through the thick forest of grave markers. He had not really paid attention to the directions the last time he came; rather, he was blindly following the museum curator's instructions while checking every nook and cranny for Sai. Fortunately, his feet seemed to remember the way, and he was content to follow where they led. There was a slight bend in the path, and suddenly, it was upon him ... so small, so insignificant, lost among the tight press of generations of the departed ... the final resting place of the famous Go player Honinbo Shuusaku.

He squatted down in front of the aging gravestone. "Hello, Torajirou. I don't think I introduced myself last time," he began in a conversational tone. "I'm Shindou Hikaru, a friend of Sai. I came by last year, but I'm afraid I didn't pay my proper respects to you at the time. I was distracted and ... a bit upset. I'm sure you understand. Sai always said you were a wise and forgiving man." Tenderly, he laid the flowers down on the altar and adjusted the blooms so that they wouldn't be flattened. "These are for you. I don't suppose you get a lot of flowers these days. Hope you like the colour."

Hikaru studied the name engraved in stone before him for several heartbeats; the lines seemed to etch themselves deep into his mind. Those simple characters elicited a welter of emotions more complex than he had expected, and his breaths came more quickly as he struggled to sort out the jangling in his chest. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring Sai with me today," he continued at last, "He would have loved to come by and visit. Oh! ... but now that he's at rest, perhaps you've already met again. Perhaps you are even playing Go together at the moment!" He smiled forlornly as he recognized that old twinge of jealousy. For once, it was a strangely comforting sensation, as if he was back in his bedroom in Tokyo, obstinately thumbing through a text on joseki after having a fight with Sai over this long dead man.

"Sai loved to talk about you, you know that? He missed you dreadfully. Your early death and your untimely parting – it was so painful for the Sai who was left behind with the stain of your blood on the goban. I think ... I kinda resented you for that. I'm so childish, aren't I? Not like you ... I was too selfish to realise that his Go was a great gift to the world. I've always wondered if that was the reason why he left."

Hikaru paused and closed his eyes. In the unearthly stillness of the cemetery, his emotions seemed to have settled like drifting snow on a tranquil winter morning, crystalline in their clarity. "I ... I feel like ... that's not the case, but I still can't help feeling guilty, you know? Like it's my fault that the Go world has lost Sai's genius forever. You wouldn't know that feeling, of course. You gave him everything." His mouth twisted bitterly. "I guess I'm really just angry at myself. Not at you. No, not at you ..."

His gaze was drawn into a minute study of a single chrysanthemum petal, and for some minutes he could not find the words he wanted to say. "In the end," he managed finally, "we both lost him. Although, you did get to say goodbye, didn't you? I guess it wouldn't be too immature of me if I were to envy only that. It isn't wrong to be envious of something like that, is it? Even Sai couldn't scold me for something like that ..."

His fingers absently brushed away the dust on the altar. The stone was cold despite the warmth of the noon sun. "In the end, it boils down to the fact that, just as you couldn't come back for Sai, I know ... he will not be coming back to me."

The words that he had spoken, words he had never been able to say out loud before – they were like a crashing wave that shattered the wall around his heart. Words poured out then; like a dammed up river suddenly finding freedom, they streamed out in rushed, turbulent swirls, powerful and direct at times, lost and incoherent at others. To a handful of flowers and a speckled grey stone worn by the years, he spoke about his meeting with Sai, the times they spent together, the countless games they shared on the goban in his bedroom, as well as Sai's fond recollections of Torajirou. All the priceless memories he and Sai had shared – that he now held alone. If I am the only one who can remember these things ... do they really exist beyond me?

But, for now, at least Torajirou shared in the memories – even if such memories were even more insubstantial than a ghost.

"Don't let Sai bully you around any more, you hear? And ... tell him to come visit me in my dreams now and then, please?"

Hikaru straightened and stretched. The sun had just passed its apex, and its brilliance seemed to wash away his worries along with the shadows that it banished. Somehow, making peace with Torajirou – even though, he privately acknowledged, it was the one-sided sort of conflict you could only have with a dead man – had lightened the stifling burden on his heart. Even if Torajirou was long gone, it felt reassuring that there was another person who could relate to his sorrow. He took one last lingering look at the tomb and whispered, "Goodbye for now, Torajirou. I'll come by again next year."

He slipped unnoticed past the Shuusaku museum and left the grounds of Ishikiri Temple. He found a ramen shop not too far away, and found that the ocean air stimulated his appetite marvelously. After polishing off three bowls, he took the bus back to the mainland and boarded the Tokyo-bound Shinkansen. Out came the magnetic go board, and soon his fingers found themselves unconsciously replaying one of his games with Sai. Hour after hour after hour, these old games flowed through his fingers without faltering. In these games, his memories took shape in the physical world – and were real.

Evening was falling by the time he reached home. "I'm back," he called out perfunctorily as he stowed away his worn sneakers.

"Welcome home," came a cheerful voice from the kitchen. His mother walked out, drying her hands on her aprons. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I'm starving," he clutched his stomach in mock agony. "Make me a bowl of ramen? I'm just going to put my stuff away." He ran up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

"Okay, okay." His mother gave an indulgent smile and made her way back to the kitchen. "Oh, Hikaru. There's a letter for you from the Institute." She pointed to a letter on top of a heap of mail as she craned her head to check that the boy saw what she was pointing at.

"Letter?" From the bedroom door, he flung his backpack onto the bed, and was back down the stairs even before it had stopped bouncing. He found the letter in question, and quickly extracted its contents. "Let's see ..." he mumbled out loud. "To the participants of the Young Lions' Tournament – Young Lions' Tournament?!" Hikaru gasped when he read those words. That's right ... the tournament is held in mid-May. I'd completely forgotten since I skipped it last year.

He scanned through the text and, not finding what he wanted, flipped impatiently to the attached page. I'll plow through every single opponent until I get to Touya! His grip on the letter tightened as his eyes searched for his and Touya's names in the tournament line-up. But ... eh?! We'll play in the second round?? Well, that's fine with me – no need for either of us to go through three days of tournament games just to play each other!

Hikaru felt his heart beating triple time. It was true that he played Touya on a regular basis and that the games they played in the Go salon were all serious games, but there was something special in the sheer intensity of an official match with Touya – the way the air around them absolutely prickled with tension. Our second official game ... just you wait, Touya! It won't be long before I'll be walking right beside you!

Argh ... that felt like pulling teeth. I have images in my mind, but without a regular work out, it's getting harder and harder for me to find the words I want. Anyway, apologies for the rather slow and uneventful chapter. Take heart – the Young Lions' Tournament is up next! (Oh, I've realized that it's actually five rounds, not four ... slight change in plans.)

I'm glad to hear that the interaction between Hikaru and Akira is believable. Their friendship and rivalry is one of my favourite aspects of the series, and I'd hate to have butchered it. As for Hikaru and Akari, oddly enough, I do have a side story in mind (to take place after the tournament). However, I've seen another story with a very similar premise, so I'm going to have to think twice about it (though I've avoided reading it so far so that I can be comfortable knowing that anything I write is my own).

As for the questions about Touya ... well, you'll just have to wait and see.

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews. I really appreciate the time you all put into writing them.