One Liberty Left

Chapter 3: A Matter of Fate

"Whether you win a game or lose it is a matter of fate at the time. What really counts is whether or not you played good moves" (Kajiwara Takeo)

Their world wasn't as black and white as the stones on the board. The amount of games that could be played, the possibilities on the surface of three hundred and sixty-one intersections were infinite. There was something about those possibilities that entranced him beyond words. There existed no greater joy in his life than to learn that he had improved, even if by the smallest increment. When he played, he could forget the past and the worries that plagued his days.

Tonight there would be no such peace of mind. The shadows were after his blood and the secrets of the board that such a tainted soul would never reach or understand. The empty room suffocated him until he couldn't find his breath anymore. Such a selfish thing I am, he thought, to wish in vain that I can live when I am already dead. There was no honor in that and it yielded no pride. The best would be to quietly resign, except this time he wasn't waking up again.

He had been blinded in his time of weakness and without his sight the opponent slowly crawled and surrounded him until he could grasp at arms that bound his body. No matter how far he read into the game, there was no positive outcome, no chance of winning. There was nothing to attack, nothing to defend. There were no moves he could make that would offset his opponent. He had not felt this vulnerability, this complete lack of control over his actions, since he played the reigning Kisei after he passed the pro examination.

He was scared. He was scared, but found some consolation in the knowledge that he wouldn't die until he made his move. Lost as he was, his opponent had the courtesy to wait, even if he spent that time tormenting him. There was only one path that he could walk and that path now led to death. He refused to cry until he reached the end.

Reid understood how Shiro was a professional at such a young age. Despite the pressure he felt from Reid and the dread that seemed to take over his features, Shiro played like nothing was wrong in the world. Whatever emotions he had revealed to Reid before were gone and replaced with a calm and steely exterior. The control over his emotions wasn't the only give away. Shiro played stones in places Reid would rarely think about. His groups of stones were elegant in shape and hard to attack, let alone kill.

It was a general rule that 'weak' groups died unless they were reinforced, but Reid could hardly find room to do so. He found himself losing by a small margin in the middle game and remembered Gideon's words. If he didn't think outside of the box, he wouldn't win, not against Shiro. What was not strange more than it was admirable, Shiro did not have the genius gift for the game that Akira had, yet he was one of the toughest opponents Reid ever faced.

When his phone rang, Reid contemplated between taking the call and continuing the game. They were well over a hundred moves into the rapid-fire match. He chose to let the message go to voicemail. The game wasn't going to continue all the way into the end game, that much he could tell. Since they made their decisions so fast, they were making some mistakes that normally wouldn't appear. The next few moves were earth-shattering.

"…I resign…" Morgan wouldn't let Reid ever live this down, he was sure, but the honorable thing was to resign after such a harsh battle had taken place. The weak groups that Shiro had were impossible to kill without risking his own, one of which was already dead. There were no other opportunities left on the board, no more liberties to fill. Without words, they scooped the stones into their respective containers until the board was clear again. "You know that I'll have to ask you anyways." Shiro nodded. "Have you spoken to Lin Zhang since the Congress started? Did you notice anything off about him?"

"Yes, I spoke to him. He is bitter and he deserves to be," Shiro said quietly, again that strangely meek version of himself. Even though he did not meet Reid's eyes, he wasn't lying. Reid hadn't even told the boy about what he knew, but Shiro withheld no illusions. "He does not like me. He said that the Chinese are better players, which I agreed with. Lin is not a Chinese player; he is an American player. He is not a pro and does not desire to be one anymore. Still, he was angry that I said that, even though I told my opinion and did not lie."

"Did Lin Zhang murder Wen Mah and Ken Hamasaki?" Reid kept his thoughts to himself and considered the facts. Even when he rejoined the team, he would have to bring Shiro with him. It seemed that Lin Zhang might be building up to some sort of revenge and if they couldn't hold him, Shiro might just be his next target. It was possible that he was aiming for that 'road' that Shui Liu talked about earlier until his brother was injured. "Did you see him on the night of the murder?"

"I…no," Shiro said with a shake of his head. Reid frowned and inched closer when he caught the blatant lie in his voice. Shiro didn't bother to cover up his blunder and for the first time, allowed his shoulders to slump. Just to keep his hands busy it seemed, he took both containers of black and white stones and began placing them on the board. Reid recognized the action as replaying a game. He had an eidetic memory, so things like that were easy for him, but it took normal people a lot of time to be able to remember entire games. For the most part, pros were able to do so. It looked as if Shiro had replayed this game many times, though. There was no falter in the placement.

"We both know that you're lying. You don't have to feel obligated to protect him. What your brother did and who you are…those are completely different matters. Lin is killing innocent people, people that live in the same world as you and when Lin finally breaks, he's going to go after his real target: you. He may have told you that you owe him, but it doesn't condone murder. Remember the profile: he only sees the people around him as expendable pawns. This is a game to him and he's only getting more enjoyment watching everyone around him suffer. Now, did Lin Zhang murder Wen Mah and Ken Hamasaki?"

"That is why I dislike chess." Shiro laughed weakly until it died down into soft, barely audible sobs. When teardrops fell onto the board's smooth, pale golden surface, he hastily wiped them away and rubbed at his eyes. Reid gave him a sympathetic gaze so that he knew he wasn't alone. The boy responded with a small, quivering smile. "I am used to it- crying that is. Until you have experienced many tears, you do not reach shodan…But this time, I am scared beyond my ability to understand. I know that I am weak and that I am blinded, but I do not want to die. I do not want him to kill me. I am selfish."

"You aren't selfish for wanting to live," Reid said, caution in his voice. Shiro was delicate emotionally now, no matter what front he tried to put up as a shield. He was also making references to go, not just his own fear. Reid had long known that go was how he expressed himself. "He was just manipulating you, making you believe him and bend to his will. And this is real life; things are a little more difficult than on the board. Remember, Lin doesn't have any more honor. He doesn't respect people anymore."

"He did kill them; he told me that he did," Shiro said in a voice that barely surpassed a whisper. His shaky fingers ghosted over the stones with a strange sense of reverence. "I saw him come out from the rooms, but he told me not to tell. And I did not tell anyone; I played into his trap…" anger directed at himself was laced through the shaky breaths the boy took. He met Reid in the eyes and directed him towards the board. "Hey, this game, do you know how famous it is? I can never bring myself to play past the hundred and twenty-seventh move because the rest is simple compared to this."

Obligingly, Reid observed the board and instantly recognized the record. "Honinbo Shusaku is considered to be one of the best players in history. This is the game he played against Inseki Gennan, with Shusaku as black. This move had superior influence over the entire board." Shiro nodded, for once without anything to add to Reid's explanation. With a deep sigh, he swept all the stones off the board and replaced them in their containers. "Shiro, I need you to come with me. My teammates might not be able to hold him until I get them your confession."

"He is not after me yet," Shiro said, a sudden flare of anxiety flowing through his body. Now tense, he flung a desperate glace at Reid and then the door. Fists clenched, he took a few moments to regain his breath. Already, before he could talk again, Reid was rushing him out the door and down the hallway. "He said that he would take away someone important to me first. There is no one here that I treasure more than my rival. We fight sometimes and pretend to hate each other, but we're important to each other. I think he knows that something is strange between me and Zhang. His intuition is very good. His name is Ayumu, Hashimoto Ayumu."

"Right," Reid said, fumbling for his phone, his fingers searching for the speed-dial. There was not time for thinking now. "Hotch, Shiro Minami said that Lin Zhang told him that he murdered those victims and he witnessed him exiting the rooms. We have reason to believe that he's after his friend, Ayumu Hashimoto next. He might not wait until night now that you've questioned him. Alright, we'll meet you there." Reid shoved his phone into his pocket just as they reached the stairs. "Shiro, where's the tournament hall? Where's your friend?"

"He is not my friend…" Shiro muttered before he ran ahead and out of the building into the dull light of the late afternoon without pause. Dusk would fall over the campus soon. "He is playing a three-on-one simultaneous game now. He was going to visit me afterwards, but he should not be done yet, I hope. If I know him, he might just finish the game quickly so that he can check on me. For a long time he was very worried. I promised that I would tell him."

"You do seem to be pretty good friends. Friends care about each other," Reid said. They were approaching the glass doors now and wasted no time entering the building. Though the gun on his hip would attract attention, Reid didn't have the time for being subtle. Lin already knew that law enforcement was here and after him. Still, the tournament hall acted as if nothing was wrong when they entered. Reid forced Shiro to slow down as he headed for a back corner of the room where the simultaneous games were held. Shiro talked with a volunteer while Reid headed over towards his teammates in the distance.

"This is Lin Zhang's file. He was adamant about not knowing anything about the murders and without any evidence, we had to let him go," Hotch explained. Reid glanced at the picture, which was all he would need right now. "No one's seen him since this morning's tournament. The team's looking for him now. You're sure that he's after Shiro Minami's friend first? Since he's pressured, he might just go for Shiro next, if he's Lin's real target."

"Lin seems to like torturing Shiro mentally more than he wants to kill him, actually," Reid said as they kept a watchful eye on the Japanese boy. "Lin wants to cause him pain, but even if he gets caught, he might just be satisfied with causing Shiro the greatest pain of all: losing someone close to him. We've interrupted his plans, but it should be more satisfying for him to kill Ayumu Hashimoto anyways. He's a go player; he knows how to pick his battles."

"Ayumu is not here. But we did not see him when we entered!" Shiro said in a clearly upset and frantic voice. As Reid headed over to him, he caught his usage of his rival's first name, which meant that they had to be close. The Japanese normally used surnames to address each other unless they were good friends. The composure that Shiro had wielded in the game against Reid and the words exchanged before and after was gone. All Reid saw left was a young boy scared for his friend's life rather than his own. It was rather noble, he thought, but useless if they couldn't stop Lin.

"Calm down; the agents you met before are looking for Lin Zhang now. We're going to look too," Hotch said with a troubled frown on his face. Reid knew that he was unhappy with the arrangements. It would be better and safer if they could bring Shiro to a disclosed location, but they had not the time to do so. Shiro wouldn't have gone along quietly, he knew, not with his personality unmarred by Lin's influence. The fire in his eyes shone beneath his fear and trembling body. "Stay close to us. Is there anywhere Ayumu would have gone? Has he ever talked to Zhang?"

"Ayumu has never met him and he would not have gone anywhere else. He was too worried, that is why he played his games so fast today. Usually he takes his time to think," Shiro said. After a quick survey of the room yielded no results, Hotch and Reid started for the doorway after they had a word with the tournament officials. The boy ran to catch up, reluctant to remain behind Reid and seemingly irritated that Hotch had called Ayumu by his first name, if his scowl had anything to do with it. If the situation weren't so dire, Reid would have cracked a smile.

The first beginnings of darkness that were covering the campus made Reid check for his flashlight, just in case the chase carried on into the night. Both he and Hotch knew that it was too dangerous to drag Shiro into the situation fully. They wouldn't give Lin what he wanted. It was beyond difficult to explain that to Shiro, who fought and fought until the adults relented. That wasn't actually the case, since Reid was just going to take Shiro somewhere safer while Hotch searched, but the boy didn't need to know that. Reid wouldn't put it past him to figure it out eventually.

With the argument, there was hardly any light left in the sky. Occasionally, Reid would catch glimpses of the artificial light that came from his teammates. By this time, some of the competitors and spectators were dispersing the tournament halls and heading for the apartments. When there were enough people around, Reid deemed it safer than standing in the corner on the look-out. By that time, Shiro also seemed to notice the trick that had been played and made a disgruntled face. He didn't argue anymore, surprisingly. "You're calm."

"Getting upset and angry at something I cannot change does not help," Shiro mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. Judging by the number of times he switched seats in the lobby, he was clearly agitated. The acceptance would have been suspicious any other time when he requested to go to the bathroom, except Reid was too accustomed to his ways in go. The understanding that had aided him now made him fall for such an obvious trick. Of course, go or no go, Shiro was a teenage boy whose good friend was in danger of being killed; he wouldn't just accept that even if he knew that he could make no difference.

Reid was almost panicking when he finally got Morgan on the other end of the connection, only to find out that Lin had a rather sharp knife pointed at Ayumu's throat. Since he hadn't been taken down yet, the shot must have been too hard to make or would have jostled the knife too much. The maze of clues and evidence that Lin had passed by led the agents on a wild chase that would have perhaps been better if Reid had gone along. Now he stood outside the apartments without Shiro and a deadly confrontation somewhere around another building.

With the aid of his flashlight, Reid managed to catch a glimpse of movement. It was really his luck that it was moving towards the building he was also going towards. That was probably Shiro, if he could take a wild guess. The only hope he had at the moment was for Shiro to maintain the same instincts that gave him the power to best Reid in the game they played. Shiro could tell apart a losing situation and he should've known to avoid it, especially with a knife and guns involved.

Ten minutes later, after having wound up on the wrong side of the building, found Reid running into the confrontation that had apparently come out of the standstill it once was. He groaned upon seeing Prentiss with her arms around Shiro, who was struggling with all his might. It was a rather good thing that he spent his days sitting before a go board, Reid thought with dry sarcasm, because that meant that he was rather weak of body. Against Prentiss, he stood no chance for all his efforts. It was just their luck that both boys were from Japan when the association had wanted to avoid this international disaster.

"You are too hot-headed, Shiro." Ayumu spoke with utmost caution and offered his friend a small smile though his body trembled with fear. The words seemed to pass through Shiro's head unheeded, yet at the same time he clung to them as if they were Ayumu's last. Lin snarled at the Japanese words and tilted the knife just a slight bit further. Reid couldn't see in the dark, but there had to have been blood. "Remember that you don't play with your emotions. Have you already forgotten that? That's why you lose to me so much."

"Let him go! Do you not want me instead? Ayumu, you lose to me just as much! How can you talk to freely when he's got a knife at your throat?" Shiro snarled. His voice hitched as he spoke, but he was too stubborn to let it show any more than it already was. There were definitely tears across his face. Reid regretted not understanding him, because the words seemed to bother Lin and that could have helped. If he understood what the boys were saying…

"Lin, you don't want it to end this way," Hotch said with caution, staring the crazed man in the eyes. To emphasize that he wished only for peace, Hotch slowly placed his gun on the ground and raised his hands in the air, harmless. That didn't change the fact that two other agents had their guns pointed at him, but Lin seemed willing to listen at least. "You're angry, angry at Hideki Minami, because he hurt your brother. That's understandable, but Hideki's dead. You're not angry at Shiro. Shiro has nothing to do with this. He just reminds you of Hideki.

"Nothing's going to change if you take your revenge here. You're not going to feel any better; just like killing all those other people didn't make you feel any better. Maybe you got some satisfaction, for a brief moment, but it was gone before you knew it. That's why you killed again," Hotch said. Lin tensed as the agent drew closer, but the words Hotch said struck something deep inside him and made him pause and hesitate. The knife was still too close to Ayumu's neck for them to make any sort of move and it was still too early to consider this a victory.

"You were never after the Hand of God, were you?" Ayumu said when the realization had dawned on him. Lin tensed and Ayumu whimpered. Shiro almost tried to resist Prentiss' hold on him again until Ayumu continued. "What we aim for is the Hand of God, in the end. You were never after that? You were never on the same plane as us. So you were just imitating our life, but you lack the passion of your own. Go is not about reckless revenge. We all just want to live."

Lin snarled, as if vehemently denying the accusation. If Reid hadn't glanced over towards Shiro, he would have completely missed the shocked and terrified expression on his face. Then Ayumu started talking and Reid understood why Shiro had been startled so suddenly. He knew Ayumu better than anyone else and could read his moves. "I can live. You cannot kill me. I have two eyes, unclouded and able to see the truth. You are half-blind; you cannot win. There is no place to run. You are not an amateur; do not needlessly die when you can resign."

"Ayumu," Shiro snarled, tears obstructing his voice. For a moment, everyone waited with baited breath for Lin to respond. Ayumu, surprisingly, appeared the calmest of the three boys. Reid wanted to do something, not just stand there with his useless gun outstretched, so he eased Shiro away from Prentiss and held him close. Under any other circumstances, the boy would have started and insisted on being released, Reid knew. He didn't seem to care so much about his reserved nature now.

"I…I resign."

Two words never meant so much.

Notes/References:

• This is my buffer chapter I forgot about. Oooops.

• Kisei is a title able to be played for in Japan, much like the Meijin or Honinbou.

• The next chapter...will be written over winter break, when I plan to get back into go. Unfortunately for me, this story is far too complicated to write on a whim.