Disclaimers: Hikaru no Go and its characters are created and/or owned by Hotta Yumi, Obata Takeshi, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot (all rights reserved). I just borrow them to provide - hopefully - a bit of free entertainment to the fans.

Warning: spoilers everywhere!

The Way of Go
by VKempf

4. The Mirror of Earth


"You Go professionals have no chance to ever find it!"

The words left Akira nonplussed. He didn't believe a single one of them, but they were so unexpected that he didn't know how to react. He was just standing there, under Fukui Satoshi's thorough examination - so he realized suddenly. Still, he was able to come with a sharp reply after ten seconds:

"For someone who despises Go and has only heard about the Kami no itte, you're pretty well informed."

"You'd be surprised, young man," the man hissed.

Despite his sarcastic words, he was not really glaring at Akira. It was rather as if the little black eyes were trying to drill throughout the jade ones, sneaking a look at what was hiding behind. As long as anger was obsessing him, Akira hadn't felt the lock in the stare, but now he was very aware of it. Actually, to find himself unable to break it was really disturbing.

Fortunately, he was delivered by a sudden crash on the left: for some reason, a broom leaning on the wall had just fall flat on the floor, next to Fuku. The plump boy bent down and lifted it up against the wall, his face all flushed. The master turned his head to look daggers at his clumsy grandson, and Akira sighed inwardly. His only one desire now was to move away as soon as possible from that shop and its unpleasant owner.

"I'm leaving now. Have a nice day," he said quickly, and turning round on his heels, he made for the door.

"Ah..." Fuku let out, but he couldn't utter anything else. No doubt the Go afternoon was doomed now.

"Fukui-sama!" Onoki implored. The young lady had followed the argument between her boss and the pro with a mix of shame and confusion.

The old master didn't answer but turned again to Akira, who had already a foot on the outer door step.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you?" he called smugly.

Akira paused, then, hardly turning his head back:

"I don't mind your ranting, sir. Goodbye."

The master smiled like the insolence cut no ice with him.

"Maybe you'll mind if I let Yuuta-kun serve them to you," he sniggered. "All right, go and tell him," he said to Fuku.

"Huh ?" Fuku gaped. "You mean..."

"I mean you can spend the afternoon with this young sir; it won't be totally lost if you can teach him a truth or two... Just remember you still have studies tonight!" he added severely.

"...'kay! er... yes!" Fuku mumbled, all confused by this unexpected permission. Akira was still in the doorway, a bit surprised too by the sudden turn of events. Fuku ran to him: "Wait for me outside," he whispered, then he dashed to the stockroom. His grandfather was slowly retreating the same way, ignoring them all as if they were now out of his concern. The young lady at the counter bestowed an embarrassed smile and a quick bow upon Akira. The boy answered with a nod, then closed the door.

The heat was falling down on him again, but paradoxically Akira was breathing more easily. He wasn't usually scared by people, but the old decorator had really given him a very disturbing impression. He made a few steps in the street, quickly getting away from the shop window. It was most unlikely that its owner would be spying on him right now, but nonetheless, Akira felt a strong need of putting some distance between the two of them. The idea of running away without waiting for Fuku even crossed his mind, but that would be for sure a very disloyal move and Akira wasn't that kind. So he went and sat down on a bench, in the scarce shade of a deserted bus shelter near the street corner, where the boy would find him easily.

Five minutes later indeed, he could see Fuku sprinting toward him. He had taken his overalls off, and after a very quick token wash, changed his tee-shirt dripping with sweat, though the clean one would not remain dry very long if he kept running under the sun.

"Ah, thank you for waiting," the already panting boy managed to say. "Let's go."

So they went, without uttering a word: the embarrassing scene in the shop was still fresh in their mind, and none of them dared strike up the conversation again. But as they were walking in no definite direction, Akira eventually spoke.

"Hmm, Fukui-kun?"

"Uh?" Fuku piped with a start.

"Where do we go?"

They both stopped. Fuku scratched the back of his head, half-laughing.

"Ha-ha, yeah... Hmm, I suppose you've not had lunch yet?"

"Actually no, and it'd be a good start, I think," Akira hurried to say before his stomach emitted any loud confirmation of its own.

"OK!" Fuku agreed, his good mood coming back. "I know a place nearby where the takoyaki are great!"

"Well, fine."

If they had to go fast-food, Akira might as well taste a specialty rather than the common burger junk. So he followed Fuku in a narrow popular street flanked by many small shops and restaurants. Fuku chose one of them, and they both took a sit on high stools next to the counter. Behind it, a man in his twenties was keeping an eye on the dumplings dancing in the foaming oil. He cast a grin to Fuku.

"Wow, Fukui-kun! We don't see you much in the week. How'd you managed to fly away from the crusty old bird?"

Fuku shrugged.

"I'm still wondering. Just mind your fryer, will you?"

The waiter laughed. He served them with two generous helpings of takoyaki, along with cups of soft drink - Akira half-emptied his in a single long sucking up.

The two boys started eating silently. Silently meaning they were not speaking, for silence was irrelevant outside their short length of counter, between the sizzling fat and loud conversations behind them - it was lunchtime for many people. At least, they were in the shade, a bit away from the street, but not too close to the fryer, which was better for their clothes: they would probably reek of sweat by the end of the day and didn't need that extra flavor.

So all seemed perfect for the two boys, yet they kept mute again. Akira could already see his fears come true, but finally, Fuku spoke again.

"I'm sorry you had to put up with Jii-san," he mumbled. "He's not a cool guy, but if I'd known he'd make all that fuss..."

"Well, I'm sorry I was a bit rude with your grandfather too..." said Akira, who was hardly sorry, but still polite.

"He was rude with you!" Fuku replied, suddenly fiery. "He has no right to talk to you like that! Don't be sorry, it's great time somebody put him in his place."

Akira half-smiled.

"I didn't quite succeed, actually."

"Yeah, but the things you said... you know, that's all I've ever wanted to tell him. It's just..." Fuku sighed. "...I can't speak as well as you."

Akira shrugged.

"Whether you speak well or not, there's none so deaf as one who will not hear."

"Wow, another one I must remember! I'll ask you to write it down for me before you leave," Fuku laughed. "The problem with Jii-san is, he's too stubborn to change his mind once he's made it, on any matter. Just because he started his business from scratch, all by himself, he relies entirely on his experience and doesn't accept others' that easily. Otherwise, he's not a bad guy."

"If you say so..." Akira still found the guy creepy. "You've been working with him for long?"

"Since last October... after I failed the pro exam again. My parents put the pressure on me before, saying that I'd better pass, or at least improve my insei ranking. I did neither of them, so I hadn't much options left. I wasn't too good at school either... Since Jii-san asked many times Dad that I come and work with him, we decided it was better for me. If I prove myself, Jii-san may even let me take the shop over after him."

Fuku's tone was optimistic, but the words sounded more like something he needed to tell himself again and again to feel the least convinced. That didn't escape Akira.

"You like your new job?"

Fuku took a moment, nibbling the straw of his cup, before answering.

"Well, at first, it wasn't too exciting. Jii-san put me on deliveries and other simple stuff. But ever since, he's entrusted me with more tasks, and I must say he's taught me a lot..."

What he was taught Fuku didn't specify, though it seemed to give him much to think about.

"But he won't let you play Go..."

"It's not that he forbids me, but he sure tries to put me off playing as much as he can," Fuku sighed. " I didn't tell him I was going to the Ki-in yesterday, for example, he'd have made up some extra chore for me to do at once! He keeps saying I've played more than enough Go for a lifetime."

Akira put down his cup. Now he was feeling better enough to get comforting to other people.

"I see... You and Yashiro should join in the 'non-supportive relatives' club."

"Oh, Yashiro has problems with his family?"

"More or less. His parents tend to think, like your grandfather, that Go's not a serious business. Yashiro struggled on in spite of that, and he did well. Now that he's risen to 3-dan and he's living by himself, it's not as much hampering for him; though I guess he wouldn't mind a bit of acknowledgement from them..."

"I wish I was as strong as him..." Fuku sighed. He didn't precise what kind of strength he longed for, in Go or in character. Probably both. He took a last sip from the straw, then jumped off the stool.

"Ready to go?"

Akira nodded. After a short struggle of courtesy about who would treat who, they both paid for their quick meal ("But promise me you'll let me treat you later!" Fuku protested.)

Now that they were filled up and refreshed, the heat was much more bearable. As they were strolling up the narrow street, Akira even found a certain pleasure in the drowsiness of the nascent afternoon. Fuku, his hands lazily stuffed in his shorts pockets, was enjoying it as well.

"Never been to Osaka before, Touya-kun?"

"Hmm, five times actually, but each time just for a single game. This is the first time I stay this long."

"That's right, you must travel a lot with all your pro games," Fuku said in awe.

Akira smiled.

"Only for title games against higher dan pros outside of Tokyo, which means mainly Osaka or Nagoya. And there's little place for tourism in the schedule: checking in at the hotel, reception, game, post-game comments, interviews, other cocktails or receptions, checking out, back into the train."

"Wow, don't you sleep in between ?"

"Sometimes, when I don't forget."

"Hahaha ! You really need this day of sight-seeing, then," Fuku laughed. "How did you find the castle?"

"Very crowded, as you warned. But it's a nice place."

"No surprise at this time of the year... So, where d'you wanna go now? As for ancient stuff, you've already seen the best, I think; it's not as rich here as in Kyoto or Nara... If you want to go shopping, there's the Umeda center, or Tenjinbashisuji, the longest shopping street in Japan! We must go all the way northward to Kita-ku though..."

"I think I've had my share of crowd this morning, so I'd rather stay in open spaces... not too far away if you don't mind..." Akira begged.

"Hmm... Let me think. There's a nice route here in Abeno-ku that goes through pretty shrines, very quiet, but it's a bit short for a whole afternoon. We can keep it for later. Why don't we go back to Tennoji, you've only passed through this morning, maybe you want to see more of it?"

"With that heat, I sure prefer a walk among trees rather than buildings! Fine for me."

"OK. Let's go!"


Akira should have known that walking in open spaces or walking among the crowd affected his legs in either case. Fortunately, Fuku was very understanding on that matter, and never objected a pause on a bench or a drink at a stall ("My treat this time!"), especially since he was by far the most parched of the two. Probably because he was the most talkative, too.

Akira tried to tell him all he could remember about Fuku's old friends, but that was mainly data about games, results and rankings, all things the former insei was able to follow himself in Weekly Go or any other source. Yet Fuku was listening avidly, all too happy to recall every glimpse of the world he once belonged to. He often chipped in with personal memories of his: how he used to defeat Waya, how he and Nase were always fighting for the last ranks, how Ochi reviewed himself his lost games in the toilets...

"You know," he said earnestly, "we were all competing against each other, yet my best friends up to now are still those from my insei days. Sometimes I even wish we all stayed together forever..."

Akira couldn't know. He had never been an insei, he never had any friend who wasn't already pro and several years older. Fuku's fond memories didn't meet with any response from him. It was like being told about a foreign country he'd never been to and didn't plan to visit any time soon.

"... but it's just a dream," Fuku concluded sadly. "The winners move forward, the others remain behind, that's the way it is. You don't think about it when you pass the insei test and start in class 2. You just realize when one after another, your friends leave for the pro world or give up."

Again, Akira couldn't really comprehend "to remain behind". He lost games sometimes, but not so often that it'd stop his steady rise. At most, a loss barred him the way to a title, but it didn't matter too much: Akira would just try again the following year.

It was hard in these conditions to find proper, soothing words that wouldn't sound false, so the young pro just kept mum, listening to Fuku's babble with half an ear. He pricked up a full one, though, when a familiar name flew in the air:

"... like Shindo who became pro after ten months only! He's one who spent the least time with us, and I almost miss him the most! We had such fun together," Fuku lamented.

"He sure rose quickly..." Akira muttered intently.

"Yeah, I remember his first days among us. Everybody was talking about him as your rival. Oh, by the way, it's true you've played him third board in a junior high tournament before?"

Fuku was waiting eagerly for Akira's answer. The 5-dan blushed: four years after, that episode was still an embarrassing memory, but the fact was well known and he could hardly lie about this.

"Hmm... yes, just once," Akira said cautiously. "He had played a few good games before, and we were two or three pro interested by his skills. But he was rather disappointing at the time..."

How euphemistic! Akira thought. A few good games... You mean stupendously brilliant ones! That astonished Ogata-san, my father, our whole Go salon, Yun-sensei, plus nearly every teacher and student attending that winter tournament at Kaio... and me, of course. As for the disappointment...

Once again, Akira was bumping on the everlasting mystery surrounding his rival. The best he could do was putting a name on it: Sai. But that was no real clue. He doubted Fuku could give any either.

"Haha, yeah, he wasn't much when he started," the boy agreed. "Even brought up the rear for a couple of month before he reached class 1 in April. Then, he managed to be ranked 16th just in time for the Wakajishisen. In the pro-prelims, he was one of the last qualified, just like me and Nase, a really close call. Did he tell you how freaked he was by that big bearded Godzilla?"

"He didn't. I can understand that..." Akira said, carefully recording that fact for a possible teasing of his rival.

"But in the pro exam," Fuku went on seriously, "he was totally different. First, he didn't fear Godzilla Beard anymore, even made friend with him, kinda. Then, he had that long winning streak, just like Ochi and Isumi, and he managed to beat both of them! In the end, he passed as the third shodan, behind Waya and Ochi..."

Fuku gulped. Stating that simple fact was hard for him: two friends had left him behind that year...

"When I think of it, it seems like he was only just passing each stage, but actually, he's been a real shooting star among us. Now, he's your rival... All in all, he hasn't been so disappointing, has he?" Fuku tittered.

Akira didn't answer. The mystery remains.


After a long walk among the greeneries and attractions of Tennoji Park, they were back in Abeno ward to finish the day with the little stroll Fuku had suggested.

"What's this place?" Akira asked, as they were proceeding past a huge torii.

"Abe no Seimei's shrine," Fuku announced proudly. "A little less known that the one in Kyoto, but still..."

The shrine wasn't especially outstanding compared to those they had already visited previously, with its paved path winding amidst ancient buildings, majestic trees and stone lanterns. More than elsewhere though, the quiet atmosphere all around gave a pregnant feeling of exiting the flow of time, a typical feature of deeply spiritual places. The shade under the trees was even more refreshing than Tennoji's.

"Abe no Seimei..." Akira said. "If I'm not mistaken, he's a famous fortune teller of the Heian era?"

"Fortune teller, yeah, and a bit of a wizard too," Fuku replied. "He's quite a legendary guy here. There, d'you recognize this?"

He was pointing to a statue nearby. Akira looked at the stone effigy of a fox, at the feet of which a few offerings had been laid. The answer seemed obvious:

"Inari?"

Fuku shook his head.

"Seimei's mother, Kuzunoha. She's a white kitsune, who was in love with Abe no Yasuna. She gave all of her powers to their child. This shrine is built on Seimei's birthplace."

"Legendary, that's the word," Akira commented. "Do you think people here still believe those tales?"

Fuku glanced at Akira, looking for a mocking twitch in the pro's lips, but saw none. The words also were devoid of underlying irony, as if Akira was just conducting a survey about religious behaviors in the Kansai region.

"That wouldn't be surprising," Fuku said. "Seimei's very popular in this ward. His festival is held here every fall and gathers a lot of people... or so I've been told, I came too late last year to see it myself. Now, whether they believe the tales or not isn't really important, as long as they all have fun, don't you think?"

"I won't blame them for liking this place at any rate, it's so peaceful!"

Fuku grinned.

"I like loafing around here! You know what I most wanna do each time I come here?" he said, shoving a hand in his deep Bermudas pocket.

"Hmm... hear you fortune told?" Akira tried, a bit unsettled by the winking boy, and catching sight of a large sign advertising that very activity.

"Haha, no," Fuku laughed, and he pulled out his hand, triumphantly wielding a folding travel Go board.
"Of course, a real goban would be better, but it doesn't fit in," he added merrily, slapping the side of his shorts. "So, if you don't mind..."

Akira smiled.

"Okay..."

They sat down on a bench on the courtyard side, under the eaves. That time, Fuku reasonably agreed to a two stones handicap. Of course, to stick the small magnetic stones upon that reduced surface wasn't nearly as much satisfying as a good game on a real goban with handy stones of the proper size, even cheap ones.

But had they used black and white bottle caps upon a grid drawn on dirt, Fuku's delight wouldn't be lesser. He took his time on each hand, trying hard to build a solid strategy. He didn't succeed but at least wasn't forced to resign, and he lost by a decent three moku - of course, Akira hadn't gone all out against him.

"As far as I can judge from our games, your style relies heavily on intuition," the young pro reckoned. "Most of the time, it makes you answer accurately, and leads you to interesting openings, but you still need to calculate and anticipate to turn them into consistent sequences."

Still in the enjoyment of their game, Fuku didn't object to Akira's review.

"Aha. I'm always told I rush things too much. But sometimes, I win against stronger opponents who can't follow, I dunno why..."

"Probably because your way of playing disturbs their logic, and more likely because they don't calculate enough either."

"Haha, you must be right," Fuku admitted meekly. "I really need to work on that point. I mean, when I can..."

With that statement of his unfortunate situation came another uncomfortable silence, that Akira suddenly broke:

"By the way, what did your grandfather want you to tell me ?... about the Hand of God?"

Fuku's smile vanished at once. The boy waved dismissively:

"Never mind, he doesn't know nothing about that."

"Yet he seemed pretty assertive. You told him about it first, if I've understood well?"

"Yeah, not the best thing I've done in my life," Fuku said bitterly. "At that time, I still believed I could change his mind about Go, that it wasn't stupid at all."

"And he didn't listen..."

"He did listen to me. Then, he used my speech to make Go look even more stupid. So, I gave up on it."

"He says Go professionals are unable to find the Kami no itte from what you told him? What are his arguments?"

Fuku glanced miserably at Akira.

"You really want to know?"

"Well... yes, I'm curious," Akira acknowledged. Fuku's reluctance was obvious but Akira wanted an answer. "Since your grandfather made it a condition for you to go with me, let's be fair and fulfill our part of the deal. I don't think it'll change my mind anyway," he added to convince the younger boy.

After twenty seconds of toying nervously with a pair of stones, Fuku gave in.

"All right..."

He dropped the stones and sighed.

"Of course, you know what the Hand of God is?"

"That is..." Akira hesitated. "Well, it's supposed to be the ideal game a god would play; the perfect sequence that assure, say black's victory whatever hand white chooses..."

Fuku nodded.

"That's more or less what I explained to Jii-san... That and only very advanced players have a clue about it, and it may take centuries to find out, or never. You know what's his answer? 'Yuuta-baka, tell me who's the god stupid enough to play that way.' That's what he said."

"What'd be the proper way of playing for a god, then?"

"He told me but..." Fuku scratched his head. "Well, it's not what you and I would call 'playing'..."

"What do you mean?" Akira asked, with more nervousness than he wanted to show.
Fuku understood he couldn't remain evasive and had to spill it all.

"First, you're not supposed to look for victory..." he began.

"You mean you need to end the game with a tie, jigo? I've heard something about that theory..."

"Not even that! How can I put it?" Fuku crossed his arms, thinking hard. "... You still have two people putting black and white stones on a goban; that doesn't change at least... Now imagine both don't give a damn about taking stones or making their territories bigger."

Akira rested his chin on his fist.

"That doesn't look like the game we know, for sure. Then, it can't be the Kami no itte sought by the great players along the centuries."

"Yeah, according to Jii-san, it's got nothing to do with the Igo game, but what existed before the game."

"Before the game?"

Akira's perplexity was rising.

"You know Go is an ancient game, maybe the oldest," Fuku said. "But the goban and the stones were in use even before the game was created."

"Ah, you mean for divination? I've read a book about that: how the early goban were used as maps for astrology..."

Fuku shook his head firmly.

"Astrology, no, not at all."

"Yet in the book I read, it was clear," Akira insisted. "19x19 lines that make 361 intersections, black or white, for the nights and days in the year, the stars on the board..."

"Yeah, the hoshi for the planets, or the seven pole stars, the sun and the moon," Fuku interjected. "But the oldest goban found in China were 17x17. At the time, people must know about five planets only. Besides, a sky chart is drawn in a circle, not a square."

Akira goggled at Fuku. To be honest, he didn't expect him to challenge him on the mere ground of cultural knowledge, especially Go history.

"The square has always been a figure of the Earth," Fuku explained, pointing to the small board between them. "The forces of the universe criss-cross the earth and divide it."

He ran a finger around the territories.

"Here: black, darkness, On. There: white, light, Myo. On the goban, we can simulate their flow."

Akira was scrutinizing the board as if he was just discovering it.

"On and Myo, the two forces, can't exist by themselves, they need each other to... well, to just be," Fuku continued. "One can't prevail absolutely against the other; you need a balance between them if you want things to go smooth. That's what is called the Way."

He took a second of reflection.

"Hmm, Jii-san would yell it's not as simple as that... Anyway, I guess it's the reason you can't have a winner in that kind of game."

"I see... Your grandfather is a Taoist, isn't he?" Akira concluded.

"Taoist? I dunno... Actually, as a decorator, he practices fuusui a lot. Like the choice of colors for painting, the layout of a room, you know... Always looking for harmony everywhere. He taught me a bit..." Fuku added as to excuse himself.

"That must be interesting," Akira smiled. "Now what about the Kami no itte in Go?"

"The Hand of God, yeah... Well, if you see the goban as a mirror of Earth, you can imagine two gods playing on and myo in order to spread harmony upon the world."

"To spread harmony..." Akira repeated thoughtfully. "So that's why they can't fight each other?"

"Yup. Like Jii-san said: 'Your Go should be a building game, not a fighting one.' He even said the original Go had to be like that, and later on some idiots perverted it into a martial art - that's his word."

Fuku looked quite upset.

"In a way, he's not wrong," Akira said softly. "In Go, you don't try to kill your opponent, you manage to coexist with him, while pushing your advantage all the same."

"Of course you push your advantage!" Fuku retorted sharply. "A game of no winner is not a real game! No fight is no fun! Putting stones just to make pretty figures on the board, that's only good for small kids!"

Akira chuckled.

"Except you don't let small kids play with small stones. But for the rest, I totally agree with you."

Fuku half-smiled, calming down.

"Yeah, you're not the one I need to tell those things. But there's no point telling them to Jii-san either. 'Fun' is no good reason for him, I guess it doesn't even belong to his vocabulary."

"He won't look after you forever," Akira said soothingly. "Soon you'll be old enough to take your own decisions, so never give up on Go, especially since you've reached an insei class 1 level."

"If it was just a question of age..." Fuku muttered gloomily. "Sure I'll never give up Go!" he claimed, straightening up. "I seize every occasion to play. There's a club nearby where I sneak sometimes."

"Fine. How good are the players?"

Fuku's shoulders slumped.

"They're old geezers who don't accept handicap stones easily, even when I tell them I've been insei. So our games are not balanced, and that's not interesting for nobody, but it's better than nothing."

He raised bright eyes to Akira:

"Now you understand what it means to me, to play you twice in two days! I can't thank you enough for that!"

"You're welcome," Akira said, blushing slightly. "If you're so desperate to find good opponents, I can have a word with Yashiro if you want."

Fuku's face lit up.

"You'd do that? That would be so cool! Though as a pro, he must be too busy, like you..."

"As a formerly oppressed player, he'd better be understanding. Anyway, if he can find time for karaoke, he mustn't be that busy," Akira huffed.

Fuku considered the offer while he was taking the little stones away inside the folding board.

"No... that wouldn't be a good idea," he let out at last with perceptible regret. "I wouldn't like Jii-san to mess up with him like he did with you."

"As you wish."

"But thanks anyway, Touya-kun," Fuku added, his eyes gleaming. "Let me tell you this: whatever Waya can say about you, like... erm, like... you... mustn't be a good friend..." he blurted under Akira's stare, "... now I know he's wrong!" he asserted strongly in the same breath.

Akira cast a wry smile. He was aware of his own reputation of coldness, but he didn't mind - or pretended not to mind what Waya or anyone could think or say about it. On that account, he didn't mind Fuku's good opinion of him either. Yet the boy's attempt to make up for his clumsy praise took him aback:

"... and I'm sure Shindo knows it too!"


It wasn't late in the evening, the sky wasn't totally dark yet.

Akira was already in the Shinkansen, heading back home. Under the veranda softly lit by three paper lanterns, a kneeling Fuku was sweating on a complex calligraphy. His grandfather was sitting nearby, reading a scroll.

"Did you have a good afternoon, Yuuta-kun?"

Curiously enough, no sarcasm. Fuku answered on the same monotone.

"Fine."

Silence.

"Did you tell him?"

"I did," Fuku replied neutrally. And to prevent the unavoidable question: "He didn't mind."

"Just as I expected. Too bad."

Again, no scathing comment, just a statement.

Another silence, and the friction of the brush on paper.

"Yes, too bad," Fukui Satoshi repeated after a while. "There's something about that boy..."

He glanced at his grandson, but Fuku seemed totally engrossed by his task and didn't react.

"I was close to find out... if only you hadn't spoiled everything with that stupid broom..."

Fuku looked like he wanted to shrink.

"Unless... you did it on purpose?"

Irony or threat? Fuku couldn't tell this time, but either way, it was no use lying to Grandpa.

"I don't like it, Jii-san," he said in a muffled voice.

Heavy silence. Then the old man snorted.

"Idiot! What are you afraid of?"

Fuku didn't answer.

"You've messed that last character. Take another scroll and restart from the beginning."


(to be continued)

NOTES:

Jii-san: Grandpa. Forgot to mention it in the previous chapter, my bad.

Takoyaki: octopus dumplings, a specialty of Osaka. Remember, Hikaru is drooling at them in chap.7 of the manga (should've been kinder to Akari!)

Wakajishisen: the Young Lions Tournament, where top insei meet young pros (HnG vol.7)

Torii: the typical Shinto gate that opens on to a sacred place.

Seimei's shrine: there are at least two shrines (jinja) dedicated to Abe no Seimei (see notes in 1st chapter): the most famous is in Kyoto, the other one in Osaka.

Inari: the god of rice, fertility and foxes, one of the most popular in the Shinto pantheon.

Kitsune: fox. Japanese folklore and legends abound with them. Most of the time, they are depicted as wicked creatures taking human shape to lure people for fun or lust, but some are nice characters involved in beautiful romances with humans.

On-Myo: Yin-Yang (a little reminder). I also found the transliteration inn-you, which may be more accurate, but I'll stick with on-myo to remain consistent with the first chapters.

Fuusui: feng shui, Chinese geomancy.

--

This one came lately, sorry again. Now I'm done with the "boring" chapters, I mean, the expository ones (a bit boring for me, not for you, I hope!), let's all have candy and get into the main thing. Especially those who long for a certain bleached guy will see their patience rewarded in the next chapter - it's chapter 5, after all!

I've decided to remove the "Romance" tag for now, because it's not relevant to the current chapters and I don't want readers to expect things that won't come till much later in the story, and thus be disappointed. Don't worry, it'll be back by the end of the fic!

Thanks again for your reviews, your support and your patience!

Valérien