Chapter 8: Young Lions' Tournament Half Time: Of Friendship and Rivalry

"Oy, Touya, why are you still sitting there! I'm starving!"

Akira blinked a couple of times. He stared blankly at Hikaru and then glanced over at the group of Hikaru's friends who were already headed for the exit. "Uh … me?" he gaped rather dumbly.

"What are you talking about?" Hikaru replied, sounding slightly exasperated at the other boy's denseness. "You're the only Touya around here. And even if you weren't, I'm not about to drag your father to the local McDonald's."

"I … er …." Akira hesitated as he half-rose to his feet. He looked down at the can he held in one hand, feeling the remaining tea slosh around inside as he swirled it. Hopefully Shindou would take the hint.

Perhaps he did.

"Then you're just going to sit alone in a dark corridor sipping tea like an old man? Don't tell me," Hikaru wagged an eyebrow suggestively, "you're actually nervous about our game?"

"You wish!" Akira snorted, puffing up with wounded dignity, and threw his nearly-empty can into the garbage bin along the opposite wall with a sharp toss. The can flew across the corridor and landed dead center with a smart clack. A couple of proud strides took him past where Hikaru was standing; "I need to get another drink anyway."

Hikaru stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and grinned. He caught up to Akira as the boy reached the lobby door and felt a rush of warm air as they stepped into the sun.

"Skipping lunch isn't healthy, you know," Hikaru said with a patronizingly superior air.

"It's not like eating ramen all the time is any healthier," came the quick retort.

"Hey, it's not ramen today!" Hikaru responded plaintively. "Hamburgers and fries. You wanted healthy, right?"

A group of newer pros and older insei were milling around near the entrance, chatting spiritedly about the morning's games. The conversation cut off abruptly as the pair approached, and not just a few failed to hide their startled expressions as they eyed the unexpected addition to their group. "Everyone ready?" Hikaru asked cheerfully – and obliviously. "Let's head out!"

Chatter resumed hastily as the group moved down the street. Akira trailed behind dubiously, trying not to seem like a fish out of water. A couple of the pros had drawn Shindou into an animated conversation, and the cold, challenging glares that Ochi-kun occasionally shot his way were making him uncomfortable. Although no one else was openly hostile, it seemed like they were trying to overcome their surprise at his inclusion by carrying on as usual, and in effect, ignoring his presence. He felt unwelcome and wished desperately for the familiar solitude of a book and a quiet corner. It was too late to back out, however, so he squared his shoulders resolutely and followed them through a pair of sliding doors.

Inside, the restaurant was buzzing with activity. Trays clattered on tabletops and the noise level ran high as girls giggled at a far table, little boys begged their mothers for extra large Coke and a pack of teen boys bragged about their exploits in loud, boastful voices. Heart sinking, Akira realised it was a vain hope to have banked on a peaceful lunchtime date with his volume of Honinbou Shuwa's kifus. Most people might feel the need to tread warily around an upcoming opponent, but Shindou, ever blunt and blind to such sensitive matters, obviously had no compunctions about whisking his rival off to lunch with his circle of friends.

He smiled faintly, recalling their first professional game. It had been a long time coming, and although he had never faced an opponent anxious or nervous, he had felt a tension winding up inside like a tightly-coiled spring. Shindou's and Sai's games that he had played and replayed, mentally or on a goban, seemed to blend into a blur in his mind; so many memories and thoughts and strategies were swirling through his head that he could barely manage a terse conversation with Ochi-kun and only a brief yet intense glance at his long-awaited opponent. He had been prepared to meet a rival then, in a stiffly proper confrontation that would do justice to their tumultuous encounters over the years.

But then … Shindou had just breezed in and started chatting with him, as if all the coldness and hurt of the past never existed between them. While he himself had long put his confusion behind him and was prepared to acknowledge Shindou as a rival, the casual warmth had been entirely unanticipated. Yet, it felt so natural that they should be reliving their memories and discussing recent games like old acquaintances meeting over tea. He hadn't had much to say himself, and merely soaked in that curiously pleasant moment of mutual acknowledgement.

Not to mention that strange conversation about Sai…. In his daze, he had blurted out the half-formed (and half-baked, he had surmised) conjectures that were spinning out of control from the moment he saw Shindou's trademark kosumi. He had ended up running into the elevator after Shindou, had gotten himself drawn into a childish argument, and before he knew it, they were sitting down together at the table as Shindou gobbled down his bowl of katsudon. He found himself eagerly inviting the boy to his father's Go salon for games, and he was surprised to feel a surge of relief and gratification when the invitation was just as eagerly accepted.

Akira glanced at the bleached-blond boy as he engaged Waya-kun in an argument over the merits of ramen; the rest of the people at the table laughed and ribbed Shindou fondly as he whined about their lack of appreciation for the king of all foods. He felt the ghost of a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth. The boy truly had a way of drawing people to him.

Being rivals … now that was easy, he mused. Growing up with a father who dominated the world of Go and routinely faced down challengers seeking to overthrow him, he knew what was expected of him. He knew how to treat competitors gracefully and how to approach both victory and defeat with dignity. He yearned for an opponent with whom it would be worthy to walk down this endless path. But being friends with someone his own age … that was something the wealth of experience he drew from his father, Ogata-san, and Ashiwara-san had not prepared him for. The usual rules of confrontation did not apply to this spontaneously buoyant boy, whose loud hair and even louder mouth managed to drive him up the wall, over it – and out, beyond his barriers, into a world he had never known before.

"The new pros are so strong. None of the insei was able to pass the first round this year!" moaned the lone girl in the group as she brushed aside her tray and slumped on to the table.

The tall boy known as Honda Toshiyuki gave her an encouraging smile. "That was a very good game though, Nase. Keep playing like that, and I'm sure you'll make pro by the end of this year."

"I'm sure she would have made it this year too," chimed in a bright voice, "if it weren't for Isumi-san and Kadowaki-san." A small boy with ruffled hair beamed at the other two tall, older members of the group. "They completely blew away the competition!"

Akira looked at the short boy; he seemed somewhat familiar. Noticing his examination, the boy turned to smile easily at him; "I'm Fuku. We've played in the pro exam and the preliminaries." Unlike most of the other people at the table, the boy was one of the few who hadn't spent the lunchtime eying him speculatively every now and then.

Kadowaki smiled ruefully, brushing back his red hair with one hand. "The world of the pros isn't so easy though. I've done fine in my Oteai matches so far, but … ahhh … I'm a new pro too – and I'm not that old! They really should have let me play in this year's Young Lions' Tournament at least." His eyes strayed over to Akira and Hikaru. "I would have liked to pit my Go against you guys."

Akira acknowledged his comment with a slight, dignified nod. "Sometimes, the first encounter is all the better for the wait," he stated with an oblique smile. "And there are a great many games ahead for us all." There were murmurs of agreement, punctuated by Nase's bemoaning her unending state of insei-hood.

Waya was chomping away on his hamburger, only barely listening to the conversation, but his curiosity had been piqued earlier from his conversation with Touya. His eyes darted sideways occasionally as he mulled over the boy's earlier questions. Why was Touya still obsessed with something that happened over a year ago? Not that the boy didn't seem like the obsessive type, because he did, from his perfectly straight bangs down to his immaculately neat suits. But why stoop down to Shindou, of all people, when he was already competing among the top dan players? Was there something about the mystery that clung to Shindou like a thick veil?

And, unexpectedly enough, Touya seemed to get along fine with the brash and blustery Shindou, and to be brutally honest with himself, his own bruised pride probably coloured his opinion of the boy. Sitting together for a lunch like this and watching him sit formally and oh-so-out of place … he suddenly realised that he had never seen Touya in the company of those his age. He was probably too focused on Go and the giants of the Go world to have ever felt lonely, Waya decided, but he suddenly caught a glimpse of something almost … pitiful … in the distance the boy kept from the happily chattering youths at the same table.

Still, wanting to push Touya's buttons a bit, Waya leaned forward and asked, "So why did Kurata-san switch your positions for the Korea match?"

An abrupt hush blanketed the table.

That was probably the most burning question to emerge from the North Star Cup. Of course, Team Japan had been bombarded with similar questions once reporters had access to them, but the answers were all carefully neutral and formally proper. From Kurata-san's "I had great confidence in Shindou-kun's ability to challenge Ko Yeong-Ha" to Touya's terse, "I had no objection to the switch," nothing answered the hidden question: how did the incomparable Go prodigy Touya Akira-3 dan take being bumped into the role of the second fiddle?

The boys at the table tensed; greased paper crackled as Honda toyed nervously with the unfinished burger in his hands. It was one thing to read a meticulously-composed response in the Weekly Go; they weren't sure they wanted to see humiliation surface behind those proud, deceptively calm eyes. Nase rolled her eyes, as if to say "Boys are so tactless!"

To Waya's surprise, it was Shindou who seemed uncomfortable with the question. "I was just being selfish," he replied evasively, waving a hand as if to dismiss the question. "Really, why does everyone have to ask about it? It's not a big deal. Is it that wrong for me to be first board?" He huffed irritably and sank back into his seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

All eyes fell on Touya, who was still sipping his tea placidly. Is he just going to take that? Waya wondered anxiously as a cold dread crept over him. He could almost see the next Weekly Go headline: Touya Akira 3-Dan Goes Berserk at McDonald's. Not that this seemingly composed boy would ever do such a thing, but he knew very well how Shindou's flippant manner was capable of raising ire in the most saintly of men. Feeling the half-horrified anticipation, the boy set his cup of tea down and returned their stares with a mild and steady gaze. "Ko Yeong-Ha insulted Shuusaku's Go, and Shindou wanted to make him eat his words." He paused briefly; "That's it."

"That's it?" several voices exclaimed in disbelief.

"That's it," Akira replied, raising his cup up for another sip. In the face of their incredulous expressions, he felt obliged to elaborate further. He wasn't completely oblivious to what the issue was, after all, although it aggravated him on occasion that people persisted on underestimating Shindou, that they would presume to defend his pride for him yet blithely ignore his own judgement. He's my chosen rival, after all.

"I would have liked the chance to play Ko Yeong-Ha," he admitted with shrug, "but I'll have other opportunities. It seemed important to Shindou, after all." He briefly caught the eye of Shindou, who was leaning back in his seat with a slightly furrowed brow.

"In the end," he continued with a stern, admonishing look at the faces around him, "Go is about the game, not what board you play. The Korean players would not have been there if they had not all been worthy competitors." The group cast furtive glances around at each other abashedly. Waya could feel the tip of his ears heating up; this was not a rebuke he would have ever expected of someone like the ambitious Touya Akira. It was rather shameful that it took someone like him to remind the group about the spirit of the game. An old sense of resentment stirred somewhere inside, but he was too busy regretting his question and it found no hold.

The rest of the lunch hour passed in a more sedate manner, as the boys were cowed (and awed, Waya noted with an irrational twinge of annoyance) by Touya's response. Shindou eventually regained his good humour, reminiscing with Fuku about their speed Go matches, poking fun at Nase's miniscule portion of salad, before finally ….

"Oy, Touya … why does your pinky stick out like that when you drink?"

Akira almost choked on his tea as he glared at the other boy, "My pinky does not stick out!" Eyes turned on the duo in mild shock, aghast at Shindou's deliberate baiting of the Touya Akira and taken aback by said boy's unusual loss of composure.

"It did a little flip when you drank from the cup," Hikaru replied with a mischievous gleam in his eye as he mimicked the motion with an exaggerated pointiness.

Akira made to rise, as if to protest, when he was interrupted by a polite cough. "It's almost time for the second round," said a boy with dark hair.

"Ah, you're right, Isumi-san! We'll be late if we don't hurry!"

Akira bit down the retort hanging on the tip of his tongue, and resolved that the upcoming match would be a thrashing Shindou wouldn't soon forget.

I'm so sorry about the very long hiatus! As the two-week mark drew near, I was urged to try out the World of Warcraft beta. The rest, as they say, is history.

About a third of this chapter had already been written, and I came back to it about 6 months later to try to wrap it up. However, because I've found the Hikaru-Akira game (in the following chapter, really!) so very difficult to write, I haven't really been intent on polishing off this one. I'm also sorry that, after such a long wait, nothing much really happens at all.

Part of the problem in writing all this is … I already know how I want this to end, and I can see the final chapter play out in my head. I'll just have to beg for your patience as I meander my way there.

Thank you for all the reviews and constructive criticism. It helps to know which aspects of the story stand out, for better or worse. Writing the Go matches, unfortunately, are the trickiest part, since I don't really have a firm grasp of the game itself.

As for the two insei … are they both boys? Ooops … the translation of the special chapter that I read had Oka as a female, using a female pronoun. Sorry for the mistake and thanks for the confirmation; I'll go back and make the correction.

To Dephanie: Thanks for your reminder about Kadowaki. He is now relegated to the position of a sad and envious observer of the proceedings. But more importantly, I've also read your "Returning to Meet Again" fic and love it – please update soon!