Disclaimer: Hikaru no Go doesn't belong to me.

A/N: School in Japan starts in early April not late summer, sorry for that ^^

This story, like my next one, will be relatively short (about 100 pages perhaps). Then, as my third story, Mute Go is planned. I want to get a feel for story telling first though.

Oh and as you can see I have no beta, so I'd for eternity be grateful to whoever points out really bad errors in grammar, vocabulary and research.

Maybe you misunderstood "no flames"? Flames are strings of cuss words with no "but" "and" or "Because". They are at best fun and at worst discouraging to read. Useful criticism is everything that makes an author grow, also plot pointers (suggestions) and such^^

Chapter 3

There was an energetic knock on the door. After no steps followed the visitor knocked twice then, without pause, trice.

A figure inside the traditional big house, very much like the Touya residence, shifted, clearly having been lost in other spheres. Said figure never spoke, merely stepped towards the front door in measured steps and finally opened it, smiling delightfully at the more or less expected guest.

"Sai." The man called out his friend's nickname in a polite yet slightly detached voice, looking around the empty front hall save for a rather lost looking cupboard decorated with a few beautiful flower-arrangements. "I see…" He said, but barely more was needed. Ogata and Fujiwara had known each other for two years now and they understood some essential things about each other. One, they both loved the game of Go. They both loved the competition that brought out a strong game. They both aimed for getting stronger. Yet that was one controversial point in their relationship: Ogata's worry for his young friend. He was genius in his playing but some strong feelings blockaded his forth-pressing into a world that would nurture his kind of skill more. Or better said, his forth-pressing into a world that could profit a lot from his kind of skill.

And there was another thing off about the boy. While the 9-Dan hadn't known him for long and for the most time only over the internet he still researched some stories from the boy's Insei-days. Besides his sudden fall into illness Fujiwara had undergone a 90 personality-wise. Ogata usually didn't worry about many things, except Go of course, but since people like his mentor's son Akira and his friend Sai were closely related to said game it didn't come as much as a surprise to him.

While Akira reminded him of a flame nurtured for a long time but burning stagnant due to others not putting on more material fast enough, Sai was a whole other kind of problem. He learnt fast and he honestly appreciated every kind of opponent, be it a beginner or a professional like him. Sai claimed that every single game taught him something new and made him stronger as a result. To be honest, Ogata Seiji was a bit relieved that he hadn't to be pitched against this monster in the pro world. At the same time the thought of someone young yet veteran-like like this boy stealthily moving up the ranks, far more worrisome than young warriors like Akira and Kurata could be, his lips wanted to curl into an anticipating smile.

But that was neither here nor there. All he wanted was the usual.

Sai bowed politely, pointing him to follow inside the house's interior. After Seiji shed his shoes and put on the usual slippers, he looked around while following his cheerful host into the tatami room.

"I see." He repeated after they had sat down in front of a goban. Sai who was giving him an inquisitive look (which he correctly interpreted as the usual "Do you want some tea?") stiffened slightly. "I'm still the only visitor. There is one pair of slippers prepared and the interior hasn't been altered at all." He explained his half-gut reasoning. It wasn't that the house was empty or colourless. For a man Sai certainly had some girly hobbies (like flower arrangements), but it distinctly lacked the touch of other humans. It was a solely one-man built living domain.

The young man merely smiled kindly yet sadly and touched him on the shoulders as if to thank him for his consideration. Ogata, already used to the boy's mere acceptance of the fact that going out into the world wouldn't be worth it in the end, sighed and requested a game.

Dusk was approaching stealthily, throwing long shadows and dropping the rather summer-like temperature for an early April. Many of Tokyo's inhabitants who's work had stopped early or who's school had stopped late were returning home now. Our reluctant hero, in this case, was of the second group.

BANG. The front door to the Shindou residence flew open forcefully and in came warm April breeze plus an energetic 13-year-old blond banged youth.

Without the usual "I'm back" (his grandparents were out this afternoon anyway) he shed his shoes and rushed along the corridor to the guest room that was his own personal living area for the time he stayed at his father's parents home. Only when he slid the backpack off his shoulders, and as a result nearly toppled over, he remembered the old goban from the chamber of horrors. Carefully sliding the huge thing out he put it down on an impeccably clean floor, an uncharacteristic manner he had to learn or bear his mother's nagging daily otherwise. The stain was still pretty much prominent and the more Hikaru stared at it the more it looked like blood and tears. Creepy, he thought inching away a bit and shuddered. The goban shuddered too. Hikaru leaped screaming like a girl, but then he noticed that one leg of the board merely shifted. Obviously the already porous wood had been damaged during the transportation.

Laughing a bit uneasily he hopped down in front of it, legs crossed in front. That was when he recalled the missing go ke.

I wonder it that board is one of the originals grandpa always uses to dreamily tell me about. Mh, I can ask him once he returns.

Tapping his fingers on the wooden surface he noted the dust that got stuck to his fore- and middle finger and decided to give the goban a short cleaning ritual. Jumping up he raced to the cabinet, erratically opening some cupboards until he found the wished for items. Rushing back with the retrieved dust rag and some cleaning substance specially used for wood (since his grandparent's house was very traditional they need it a lot) and began scrubbing it. After a while, Hikaru had to admit, it looked pretty decent. Yet the weird stain hadn't disappeared even one bit.

Good thing I don't believe in ghosts and stuff. Hikaru thought, cocky, but secretly even more crept out now.

Akira was many things. He was pretty well-mannered for one. He never lost his temper. Courtesy to the epitome of a traditional man that was his father he had grown up to show respect and modesty. He was good at Go, which many people saw as a given since formerly mentioned man was his father who was Touya Meijin, the best known player the world currently had to offer. He was smart too, which caused many of his classmates to shoot him envious looks. He was shy and a bit introverted, not knowing much about pop culture and transient things outside of Go, which caused many of his peers to think him arrogant and on a high horse. Plus, further strengthening the aforementioned impression, he was stubborn and refused to give way, which was a very advantageous characteristic to have as a Go player though, according to his father and many of the other pros who he was frequently in contact with. And last but not least he was bored out of his mind.

He mulled over the same tsumego for the fifth time while his mind was elsewhere. If only there was someone he could befriend and grow strong and old with, someone with the same interests and skills somewhere near him. He faintly remembered another boy he had met at his father's salon weeks ago, a boy who he thought to have the potential to be moulded into his perfect rival, but after playing other weak players he started to see the game as a fluke. Many weak players made interesting moves here and there, but it mostly was luck and they couldn't even tell what they had done afterwards.

Akira finally sighed, pushed back his chair and was about to think what to do with the remaining Sunday when he remembered something. Father is at the Go institute, enjoying or working at the event probably. I guess there's nothing lost if I take a look too. Who knows, it might turn out to be pretty interesting.

And, unknown to him, it would give a boy's conflicted priorities the last push.

The very next day found Hikaru in front of the Institute again. Only a small peek, he assured himself. So what if I'm not honest to myself, he mentally retorted to a particularly vicious version of his childhood friend's voice. He still got the goose bumps when thinking about yester eve.

His grandfather had taken one look at the board and claimed it to be real kaya, which obviously was pretty rare and expensive. When the old man had scoffed at the broken leg but said nothing about the obvious stain in front, Hikaru intervened, only to earn himself a worried look, a hand on his forehead and the suggestion to turn in earlier this evening. He was still hoping his grandpa had only been joking around, but had been too afraid to ask. Thus his presence this Sunday afternoon was pretty much excused – he wanted a real evaluation of the goban (secretly keen on not mentioning the stain at all – denial could be bliss after all) and according to certain sources Go events such as this often had antique booths solely devoted to Go.

Um… let's see. He pushed open the front door only to be surprised by a whole mass of people standing around, chattering. So many people, he thought, awed. The lobby obviously portrayed the information and welcome room. Listening in he found out that tutoring games were played on the second floor, in the built in Go salon. While the vendor booths were situated on the third floor, which had the most free space. Filing through the masses, paper bag rustling, he finally reached the elevator. The door opened and he was just about to enter too, when someone ran smack into him from behind. "Hey!" "Sorry, my bad." A grinning auburn messy haired boy said, rubbing his head apologetically. A tall young man next to him sighed, right hand rubbing his face. "Waya, don't always be such a ditz." He finally said, half-amused and half-exasperated. "I already apologized, didn't I?" The boy called Waya harumphed.

Huh, aren't they…?

"Ah! The insei!" Both looked at him weirdly while people pushed by them, urging them onto the elevator. "Do I know you?" Waya mused, eyeing him curiously. Then his face brightened in an age-old Heureka fashion. "Ah, I recall. The strange boy with the two others at the Go institute."

Isumi piped in. "You've missed your friends though, since Nase only had some tutoring games from morning to early afternoon."

"Uh… actually…I kinda want to get something I found evaluated."

The elevator pinged and Hikaru automatically got off it with his two new acquaintances in tow. Who both raised a questioning brow at this statement. "Something you found?" "Mh, some kind of old goban. Grandpa says it's real kaya, but I can't be sure." "Real kaya and you FOUND it?"

"Sh, Waya, not so loud." Isumi looked contrite and only now both loud mouths noticed that they were at the floor with the tutoring games.

"You wanna sell it?" Waya inquired, this in a more moderate tone. "Uh…" "If it's really worth something I might even buy it." Same boy announced smugly. At the aghast looks he received he immediately went into defense. "What?! My mentor kind of infected me with his "old boards are the best" fetish, you know. Plus with all the additional work he arranges for me I might really be able to afford it." Hikaru grinned.

"How did you plan to get it evaluated anyway?" "I heard that there were some antiquary booths on the third floor-…" "Forget that!" Waya interrupted rather forcefully, ignoring another adamant shush from Isumi. "Most earnest Pros have more knowledge of those kind of things than those vendors do. Let's just look for my mentor, I'm sure he'll know. You want to play a game while we're waiting for him?"

Not a bad idea. Inner Hikaru cheered and started bouncing around while Hikaru tried to mock-smash him down with a fly swatter.

"I have a school tournament next week and could really need the training." He accepted, feeling free in his Go-liking, like he had felt in Touya's Go salon. Waya's eyes started to sparkle, but then dimmed a bit. "Oh, I forgot. We'll have some real customers as in middle age geezers soon so teaching you can only happen for half an hour or so… not too much time."

"We could swap afterwards." Isumi suddenly interjected, though he was eying Waya in mild rebuke. "I don't have to work till one hour later. What is it?" He added after noting the boy's incredulous stare. "Uh… just why would you do all that for some stranger?"

"It's not often we meet someone outside of the insei who is our age." Waya offered, followed by a glare, "Plus it'll be my good deed for the day, so don't you dare oppose me."

One hour flew by and Isumi and Hikaru still sat at one of the tables, first guy explaining why an atari in this case would need a gote instead of a sente and how that move influences his highly probable later loss in territory. "Strategies are all about timing and reading further than your opponent does." He went on. "Therefore it needs quick thinking and an intuitive mind to play a good game."

"Mh…" Hikaru was staring at the stone groups, clearly out of his depth.

Maybe he is one of those who'll never get a grip of the game, Isumi thought somewhat regretfully. He really liked the big mouthed youth, from what he had seen of him. "Isumi, it's your turn." Waya commented from beside them, looking at the game curiously. "Komiya has just left."

"It was nice teaching you, Shindo-kun." Isumi said with a smile and left for his tutoring booth. "Sooo, did you learn anything good?" Waya grinned, throwing a familiar arm around the boy's shoulders. Hikaru, used to such familiar moves from virtual strangers due to his Western influenced soccer comrades, didn't shrug him off. "I guess. Isumi-san's pretty good at explaining things."

He got that thing with the huge territory loss partly wrong though. Or he just forgot to mention it, being called away. There was one other option that could have turned the tides.

Hikaru was also painfully aware of the fact that Isumi played shidou- Go with him. Hence he was pretty sure it was easier to pinpoint certain strategies due to the teacher's simplifying of his playing, so the student could learn better.

"Yup, it helped me a lot." Looking up he saw a figure clad in a light suit approaching them with obvious intent. "Um… who is that?" "That who?" Waya, who's break was for about twenty minutes, turned towards were Hikaru was looking. And kind of blanched. "Did you offend Ogata 9-Dan in any way?" He hissed under his breath. "Errr, no, who is that?" "That guy coming over here, you dolt. And he looks pretty pissed off… not that it's uncommon, but still…"

So that guy actually always looks as if his cat just died, Hikaru, who now remembered, mused. Must lead some pretty lonesome life. Still, I don't think he noticed me that day… Once the man had reached them he threw a cursory glance at the still filled board before giving the boys an inquiring stare which they returned with some trepidation. "Someone overheard you both about having a real kaya goban to assess?" Oh… There was a collective sigh of relief which made the man secretly smirk.

"Um…"

"Just show it to him." Waya suggested under his breath so the older man wouldn't hear him. "He's one of the real experts, be it skill or quality."

"But-…" Hikaru whispered back. Remembering just in time not to mention the super creepy stain he merely reached into the paper bag and pulled out the board. "It was lots more dirty when I found it." Hikaru quickly explained after receiving a suspicious look from the adult. Ogata took it readily enough, clacking a stone on the surface or merely squinting his eyes at it. "It's real." He finally ascertained. "Though I couldn't guess its age. There is someone far more suited for that kind of evaluation. If you don't mind I will consult him too." The man's glower obviously said "I'm sure you don't".

"Though he's a real stickler for taking great care of such items so that broken leg might tick him off." Ogata silently chuckled to himself. "And that stain won't?" The boy said before he could keep his mouth from running. That earnt him a disbelieving look – again. "There is no stain on there, boy." The man deadpanned, ogling the boy as if he just announced alien invasion next Sunday. Great, now his homeroom teacher's perfect partner thought he was nuts too. "And there is no use for you trying to talk me off." Or not. "Don't worry, I'll return your find in no time." His hand vanished in one of his breast pockets and came out with a card. "Just call me in about two days. Then I'll know the proper prize for it and if I want to buy it too. Plus the man who's going to assess it would kill me if I lied to you, so don't worry about that either."

Can that man read minds or what? Nah, he's probably used to people being wary of him or stuff like that.

"That would be great, thank you, Ogata-san." Hikaru, finally remembering his manners, said, bowing slightly.

"Don't mention it." Came the response accompanied by a small smile that made the boy wonder if his initial impression of the man was truly accurate. "Just don't forget to call." With that he walked off.

"Mh, someone got lucky today." His new friend quipped. "If Ogata claims to know an expert it's probably the best the whole world can offer. That guy is a freakin' perfectionist. You're gonna be rich."

A/N Sorry I got sick and wasn't able to write. Or better said I couldn't look at the screen without getting dizzy. I'm all fine now though.