It was as if that man had killed the world.
The sky wrenching its jaws apart to swallow him whole, crumbling behind raging screams as he stood in silence amongst the quiet lines of billowing smoke and couldn't understand what it all meant. The feeling that welled beneath him, lost beneath the shining white and intense black that scorned his heart.
There was some sort of immense pressure against his heart, twisting it and curling with dark shadowed hands and twining through his veins, setting his blood on fire and searing his cells. Burning like winter, crushing his soul until he couldn't breath, there it was in front of him, the answer to everything, lost within the turning tides that ebbed at the watery shores, behind his eyelids the smudge of sunlit orange dying red ocher, so beautiful… So much so that it blossomed in bright sparks that over shadowed his vision and he was falling faster, lost beneath the pressure that tore his heart and swayed between his lips in an indefinable graceless effort, the bane of his existence as his eyes snapped open—but they weren't open, were they?—and tendrils of Prussian like the quickwork splashes of a watercolour brush surrounded him and then.
Hikaru drew in a harsh intake of breath as his eyes snapped open, blue as if someone had caught the sky and placed it in them, right below the slightest spray of freckles just beneath the surface of his skin.
Inside him, the dream had awoken a restless, uneasy smoke that curled against his soul, and when he closed his eyes the color orange burned his eyes until he had o open them again.
/
"Hikaru—
Akari stopped suddenly, as the boy turned to fully look at her.
They were on their way to school, and she had her hand just above her eyes so that the rising sun that kissed the tops of the buildings didn't blind her as she tried to make out the shadowed lining of her best friend.
Hikaru was acting strangely this morning, hands in his pocket and bag on his back, regrettably carrying more clothes for soccer than books, a capricious look on his face as he scanned the horizon. For a moment, she could have sworn his eyes were blue, a deep rich hue like the stratosphere that stretched above them, as if his eyes were paper cut outs and the sky from behind him could shine through them.
And then he turned to face him, and they were green again.
"What's up, Akari-chan?" He gave her a grin that tingled the bottom of her heart.
She made a slight noise, unsure of what she was even going to say, or hot to put it into words. "For a second…I thought…" She shook her head. "Nevermind. It's nothing."
Hikaru sent her a confused look, but didn't question further. His eyes maundered about the horizon line, as if he had something he wanted to say but hadn't the beginning of an idea on how to say it.
But Hikaru was Hikaru, tactless as always. "I'll catch up with you later, Akari-chan." He said, as he veered off the street and down one of the corners, leaving her quite speechless, mouth agape.
"W—Wha—" Her face flushed angrily, as she shouted to his retreating form. "Hikaru! Don't you dare skip!"
"Akari-chan!" He turned around to face her as he walked backwards, a sheepish smile on his face. "It's for a good cause!" He retorted meekly.
"Good cause?!" She echoed tempestuously. No way, was he skipping school again?! "Good cause my ass! Get back here!"
Obviously, he didn't.
"Hikaru!"
Said blonde boy made quick work of using the small alleyways between houses—he'd been skipping ever since he'd made friends with the wrong crowd last winter, and knew the short cuts to the city like the back of his hand—to shuffle farther and farther from his shouting friend. Either she eventually gave up and walked without him or he was simply too far to hear.
The salon wasn't too far form his house anyhow, and it didn't take him long to get onto the right street to find it.
The more he thought of go, the more he wondered how the game could have such a puissant effect on him, implacable and festering in the back of his consciousness like an insufferable itch.
He pushed his way past the crowds of people making their way to work, hoping that Yeongha was still there. His flight back to Korea was going to leave in three hours, and the two of them had been cramming in as many games as they could.
He took the elevator to the floor where the salon was, silently praying that Akari wouldn't tell his mother that he was skipping today. This was important.
"Sorry!" He gasped quickly, near sliding into the chair opposite of Yeongha, the other boy languidly spread on the seat, leaning back and looking comfortable. He dropped his battered nike duffel with a thud.
He shrugged. "No worries."
Hikaru gave him a shaky smile, more out of breath than he had thought he would be. "Nigiri?"
Yeongha nodded.
While Hikaru wasn't entirely inclined to call them friends, the two of them had a mutual understanding. The blonde was sure that what Yeongha felt when they played was the same that Hikaru felt when he and Touya played, but he couldn't feel the same for the Korean pro. Playing Touya was a feeling that consumed him entirely, and could rip his breath away and send him into an unblinking trance, as soundless images past through his mind, too fast for him to comprehend but left a residual trail of emotions behind it. Playing Touya was special, and he felt as if he should cherish the moments, and use them sparingly.
Or maybe, he didn't play the other boy because he was afraid of what it did to him?
What it opened?
The game finished a lot faster than Hikaru thought it would, (it still had taken an hour to do so) Yeongha admitting defeat before yose .The Korean pro couldn't get over the immense power that Hikaru exerted, this unmoving wall of pressure that surrounded him, and defeated him so cleanly.
"How did you get so good?" The auburn haired boy whispered, more to himself than to Hikaru.
"Honestly," Hikaru began, as he studied the board. White clearly had been leading the game the whole time. "I don't know."
When the Korean said nothing in return, Hikaru dropped his gaze to study his hand, its close placing to the go ke, and mainly, the upturned go ke cover that held captured black stones. "I feel like…this ability has always been there. I'm not sure how to explain it." He gave Yeongha an apologetic smile. "I wish I could, though."
The other boy shook his head. "It's better this way. I can live with knowing that your ability has no words to it." He gave a small smile.
Hikaru laughed sheepishly.
"I came here the other day." Yeongha began, as he started to clean up the stones. "And there was this boy here."
"A boy?"
Yeongha nodded. "Touya Akira." Hikaru stiffened visibly. "He asked me why you played me, and I told him that I forced you to."
Hikaru said nothing for a moment, letting the information soak. Finally, he asked. "What did he say?"
"Nothing after that. I left."
Hikaru wanted to groan. Knowing Yeongha, he probably arrogantly told Touya off before waltzing out of the salon, attracting a gaggle of girls as he did so. Whether Hikaru wanted to admit it or not, the Korean definitely had style.
After the two had successfully cleaned the board, they fell into an uneasy silence. Hikaru felt as if the other boy wanted to say something, but didn't know how to begin it, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably and watching him. His relationship with Yeongha was a strange one, he enjoyed the boys company—actually, the guy reminded him a lot of the morons he used to hang out with, getting in trouble by and doing all sorts of dumb stuff because they thought it was cool; meanwhile, Yoengha probably didn't even mean to be cool. HIkaru supposed that was kind of the whole point. That effortless ambivalence towards rules, authority, and the opinions of other people was but being cool was really about.
Hikaru found himself both exasperated and kind of inspired. He'd spent so many years trying to be cool, and here Yeongha was, being cool without any apparent effort at all.
"What's up?" He asked lightly, his eyes meeting the pro's unwavering, piercing gaze.
"I want you to become a pro, Hikaru." He declared, steady and austere.
The younger boy blinked, once, twice.
"Eh?"
"A pro." He reiterated. "A professional Go player."
"Me?" Hikaru began confused, unable to comprehend what Yeongha wanted to do, not even being able to surface the tip of the magnitude it would cause his life in the future.
This was a joke, right? Hikaru's life was complicated enough… not to mention, he was too young to know what he wanted to do with his life! And if he was being honest, he always found himself assuming it would go in one direction; the direction of the soccer ball. Everyone else he knew assumed the same—hell, even his parents. That's why they weren't making such a big fuss on his less-than-stellar grades. They knew he would have no trouble going to a University on sports scholarship, or getting onto a professional Juniors team.
If Hikaru was being frankly honest with himself… he would have to admit that he really didn't know what he wanted with himself. He'd been so ambivalent to the future ahead of him for so long that the idea of changing it was terrifying.
When Yeongha nodded, Hikaru hoped that they were having some sort of language translation issues.
"You can't be serious…" He began quickly, already backtracking. "I mean…I'm not really that good—
"You are." The Korean interrupted quickly. "Better than me. Better that Touya Akira."
"T—That might be true…" He gulped. "But I'm just not…meant to be—
The words didn't make it past his mouth.
a go player
Something very deep inside him made him pull the words back before they could make it out. A part of him warred against this; a part of him knew the words to be false.
"I don't have any reason to." Hikaru found his words at last, answering lamely.
"Isn't it enough of a reason to play simply because you're good at it?" Yeongha tilted his head, as if not understanding.
Hikaru shook his head. "No it's not. There are people out there…" Vividly, he remembered Touya's stricken face when he lost, unable to comprehend the sheer vertigo he had caused the other boy, unable to realize what it meant to be so determined to succeed. "Who spend their life for this game, working hard and trying to become better and better, struggling to—to—
To play the hand of god.
"I have yet to play the divine move"
Why did those words ring in his ears so clearly? He'd never heard that phrase in his life! The divine move; what did that even mean?
"Become the best. I'd be offending anyone who's ever had a true love for the game." He ended with conviction.
Hikaru hadn't realized he'd been at the Go salon for so long. Outside, the sun was almost nearing its peak, light shining in from the window behind Yeongha and lining the edge of his face in brilliant gold.
The Korean looked down at him, sun bright behind him, eyes narrowed. "Who told you those words?"
Hikaru blinked. No one had told him. But he could remember how he had insulted Touya, and he figured by just having his skill he was insulting anyone who had ever had a shrivel of passion for the game.
"That's wrong." The boy retorted. "You're a gift, Hikaru."
Belatedly, Hikaru realized that was the first time the boy had ever used his name.
"A gift to the Go world. Why would you hide yourself away?" Yeongha seemed to be getting slightly angry now, and Hikaru wondered what was up with him and igniting the wrath of Go players. Perhaps he had an innate talent for that as well.
"There are many people," The Korean seemed to choke on his words then, looking away with a bit of a blush. "Like me, who have been dying to play with someone like you for many years. To not take yourself seriously and not become a pro would be a grievous loss to anyone who knows how to play Go."
His heart gave a strange flutter at that, as if those were the exact words he'd wanted to hear.
"I—thank you." He smiled, softly. No one had ever told him anything like that. But the strange feeling drifted away, leaving him hollow and cold with reality. "But I still don't know if I will. Or if I can."
Yeongha frowned deeply, as if he had never anticipated that this would be an issue. "What do you mean?"
Hikaru chuckled weakly, leaning back. "Oh man, my parents are going to flip shit if I come home and tell them I want to be a professional Go player."
"Why would they do that?" Yeongha pressed, looking deeply disturbed by this. Hikaru blinked. Why was he so shocked? Wouldn't any parent do the same?
"Because… because they don't know anything about Go!" His parents, and practically everyone else in the world. "Not to mention—I have football. A lot of football."
"Football?" Yeongha echoed, incredulous. "That's inconsequential—
"It's not, though." Hikaru vehemently shook his head, interrupting him.
The two-toned boy took a breath. "Listen: the way Go is to you, football is to me. You've been playing since you were really young, right? You said you could have become a pro years ago."
Yeongha's brows furrowed. "Yes." He agreed, slowly.
"And it's been your life, right?"
"Yes." He answered again, with deep conviction.
"That's the way football is to me," Hikaru returned, softly. Deep inside of him, he felt something stir uncomfortably at the words, but he brushed the feeling off. It was probably just indigestion. "I've been playing football since, since I learned how to walk! I worked so hard to get onto an elite club team; I swear, most of my life has been football. Football practice, football tournaments, football championships—or traveling around, for football."
Yeongha blinked rapidly, mouth opening in surprise, as if it had never occurred to him that there were other professions that required such dedication.
Hikaru was kind of annoyed by that. Granted, if he was being truthful, he wasn't nearly as dedicated as some of the other kids on his teams were. He was just… he was good at soccer. Not effortlessly—because he trained year round for a whole lot of years—but without much difficulty nonetheless. It was the closest way he could explain it, though. He knew a lot of kids who felt the same about soccer as Yeongha felt about Go; it was their lives, the galactic center that their universe orbited around.
"I see," Yeongha said, slowly. "So… you've already made up your mind to become a professional soccer player."
Hikaru blinked, slowly, before he erupted into uncontrollable laughter. "Professional?" He guffawed loudly. He shook his head. "You have no idea… the idea of me going Pro at football is laughable. There is an entire world out there that plays football, and I'm good but I wouldn't delude myself into thinking I could get onto a ManU or something."
It was clear Yeongha did not get that reference at all, so Hikaru continued.
"I'm not going to promise you I'll become a professional Go player, because I'm still way too young to know what to do with my life." Hikaru laughed. "I don't even know if I want to play football my whole life, just because I've spent my whole life playing it so far."
This also seemed to confuse the Korean, as if it had never occurred to him that people could be indecisive over their future, either. Hikaru blinked suddenly. When had he started being the odd one out? Both Yeongha and Akira were determined and driven to become Go players, they had such burning passion and intense desire to succeed in Go, and even at this age they had the conviction to become professionals. Hikaru was the normal one here! It was crazy to decide your life so conclusively at such a young age. And it was perfectly normal not to know what to do.
So why did he feel so unhappy? So at a loss? Why did he want to be like them too?
"So the option is still on the table, then." Yeongha smirked triumphantly.
"I guess." Hikaru allowed.
Yeongha checked his watch. "Shit." He looked back to Hikaru. "My flight's leaving in an hour. I have to go."
Hikaru nodded, standing too, and closing the go ke. "I'll think about what you said." His eyes held a fiery, withheld determination. "I can promise you that, at least."
Yeongha seemed to take that as a decent answer.
"See you around then, Hikaru."
And he tossed him a crumpled piece of paper.
He didn't open it for many moments, watching Yeongha's casual retreating form, as the teen moved languidly around the tables and made Ichikawa swoon as he bid her farewell, which ended with the young woman crooning about how he had a Japanese fan as he walked out the door. And as he stood there, a maelstrom of winds and words inside him, he wondered why he felt as if he had awakened from a deep slumber. Only after many minutes of simply standing there, watching these people around him who all held a love for Go, did he finally open the paper that Yeongha had given him.
It was a number. And words—in English, to Hikaru's surprise.
Maybe he shouldn't be so surprised though; Yeongha couldn't write in Japanese and Hikaru couldn't read or write in Korean, but they both were probably at least passable in the Western language.
No, what was really surprising, were the words themselves.
When you decide to be a pro, tell me.
/
(many months later)
/
Akira had to admit, explaining to his father that the reason he had joined Kaio's go team was because of one Shindou Hikaru seemed a bit harder in hindsight. There were many better ways he could have phrased himself, but in the end, his father seemed to get his point. And, dare he say, with a pleased look in his eye?
Not that it entirely mattered. The point was that he had explained the situation to his father, who only seemed passingly amused by the idea. Which was a relief, to say the least. He didn't know what his father would think of it; dawdling around like this, because what, there was a kid his age that he desperately wanted to play again? A kid who, for all intent purposes, had no intentions of playing Go? Or at least, no, intentions of playing the way Akira wanted him to play.
The boy in question was cursing himself liberally at the moment.
"I'm going to be late." Hikaru hissed to himself, shoving the rest of his algebra homework into his bag.
The winter sun was bright and beat down mercilessly, the rest of his teammates surely feeling the heat as they ran about on the field. Practice was over, but most of the varsity team had stayed behind for some one-on-one drills with Captain. Hikaru watched Tsukasa—who had retained his former glory—without any jealousy. Strange, he would have been burning in it a while ago. But for some reason, the Go Tournament weighed more heavily on his mind.
He snapped his homework shut in his book. Who cared about the quadratic formula, anyway? How was that ever going to help him in life?
"I'm leaving!" He called to the guys.
Taro, who had been hanging out by the back of the bleachers, smiled laconically. "Going to the Go Tournament?" He asked teasingly, but his voice was devoid of any hate.
Hikaru smiled. "Hehe…can't let my team down, you know?"
The older boy only sighed and put his hands on his hips, shaking out his silvery hair. For a long moment, Hikaru stood very still, wondering if he was going to make fun of him for going to a Go Tournament, of all things. He wouldn't blame Taro, honestly. It was a Go Tournament; Taro was a jock, in every sense of the word. Good looking, good at sports, good enough at school, and incredibly popular. Really he was surprised they hadn't said much on the matter at all yet.
Instead, Taro shook his head. "Have fun with that, shrimp." He waved him off with a vague salute.
"I'm not a shrimp!" He shot back derisively, obviously not hearing the compliment in his words.
Taro laughed. "Whatever you say. You're girlfriend going to be there?"
Hikaru looked abashed, hopping down from his spot on the top of the bleachers with ease. "Err—we don't really go out anymore."
"Oh—oh?! Hoo-hoo!"
Before Taro could comment any further, he dashed away down the street.
By the time he got there he had discarded his sullied practice jersey for the Haze uniform he had stuffed in his bag. He still had his Haze soccer shorts on, and cleats, but he couldn't change those while sprinting down the street. Remarkably, the go club had lasted all the way to June, to the game which he promised Touya. Even more remarkably, Hikaru had lasted too. He'd been so busy lately with his travel team he had lost sight of a lot of things—his social life, his girlfriend (oops), and even his high school team to an extent—but Go was not one of them, weirdly enough. He was third board though, he frowned to himself, and Touya no doubt was going to be first, so they might not even play. He shrugged, what did it matter, anyway? But his heart said otherwise.
Playing Touya…was like what he imagined playing in the world cup would be.
Exhilarating.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he opened it as he turned a corner in a fast break, causing a young girl with groceries to squawk indignantly. He and Yeongha still kept in touch through text messages and emails, even though the Korean pro was so far away. Hikaru knew nothing of Korean, and Yeongha's Japanese was downright abysmal, but fortunately the both of them were fluent enough in English to use it as a proxy language. Hikaru smirked. See, there was a class that was useful! Why couldn't all classes be so useful? Anyway, he still hadn't given the boy his answer though. Becoming a pro was a big step, and would define the rest of his life. Was he ready for that? They had spent the last of his days in Japan aggressively playing against each other, with Hikaru as the victor. He even had a game with that Suyon boy Yeongha always spoke of, and while the difference between Suyon and Yeongha was near palpable, one day Suyon would be great.
Yeongha had been keeping him up to date with the latest news of his career in Korea. Today, he had made it into one of their leagues. Near unheard of for a newly minted Shodan. Yeongha had only been a pro for three weeks now, yet he was already doing so well.
Hikaru smiled.
"Hikaru!" TsuiTsui called as he walked through the door to where the Tournament was being held. The young boy with glasses appeared to have been waiting for him.
He dropped his duffel bag near the chair and took a seat, smoothing out the pants he had just pulled on over his shorts. He pulled off his cleats and reverently tucked them into his bag. They were his new nikes, and he loved them as he imagined most people would love their firstborn child. He ran a hand through his messy hair, taking out his school shoes. "Am I late?" He asked, as he bent down to slip them on.
TsuiTsui shook his head. "Well no, but Mitani-kun isn't here yet." And with a quick glance. "These people scare me..." He said frightfully.
Hikaru gave a ring of laughter. "Why? They're just kids too, you know."
TsuiTsui however, didn't have years and years of team sports under his belt to not be so agitated by the pressure. "But Kaio's here…" TsuiTsui whispered.
Hikaru had long lost his anxiety over crowds and pressure, and had learned to focus in on his game, to 'get in the zone', as it was called in soccer. Anyway, what was a Go tournament in comparison to the southeast Asian championship football match he'd played during break in Singapore? That crowd had been wicked. Wow. And that stadium!
"Well duh." Hikaru answered flippantly, shaking himself out of his thoughts and scooting his chair so he was facing the older boy across the goban. "This is their school, after all."
"I mean, we'll be playing them!" He bit his lip.
Hikaru shrugged, rolling out his tense shoulders and hissing in pain. Tsukasa had landed a good blow on his forearm at practice today, and it still hurt like shit. "Let's play a game then!" He grinned cheerily. "That's help you loosen up."
As the game began, he grumbled. "Speaking of loosening up." And dropped one of his legs on the chair next to him, leaning over it to stretch it out.
"Hikaru! You could at least pay more attention!"
"I'll be fine!" He protested, leg muffling his voice. "Just concentrate on playing. Seriously TsuiTsui, I think my leg is cramping, ugh…"
True to his word, Hikaru was leading their game while doing some of his after practice stretches. And also true, TsuiTsui was beginning to relax, regardless of the fact Hikaru was gently gaining the lead with an easing flow. TsuiTsui wondered how anyone could be that strong, and also, why said strong player wouldn't mind being third board.
Mitani came in then, and took a quick glance at the game.
"If you try to escape, you'll lose the other side." He noted, causing TsuiTsui to become even more frazzled.
"Shut up!" He yelled, bangs and glasses covering his eyes from view.
Hikaru frowned a bit in worry. "TsuiTsui-san…" Before looking back up at Mitani. "Mitani, if you're that strong, why do you cheat?"
The redhead looked like he was about to reply, when Akari poked her head through the door. She bounded up to them with a flourish, skirt twisting with her movement in a way that made all the boys around them suspiciously pause what they were doing, and blushing prettily when she caught sight of Hikaru.
"Hikaru!"
"Akari," He began, surprised. "You didn't have to come!"
"You won't understand anything anyway." He added.
Akari frowned. "That's not true!" She protested. "Recently TsuiTsui-san has been teaching me. I can at least capture stones and count territory." She added with a grin, as if it was some sort of major accomplishment.
And then, with a bright smile because she knew Hikaru would enjoy it, she said, "I even brought lunch!"
Like clockwork, Hikaru's grin was back. "You're the best!"
TsuiTsui got up quickly, pushing his hands onto the table harder than he needed to. Hikaru mentally frowned, wondering why TsuiTsui was suddenly so tense. Was it because he wasn't third board this year? It wasn't like TsuiTsui wasn't good, he was killer in yose after all. He ushered Akari quickly out of the room, not making eye contact with him or Mitani, to Hikaru's puzzlement. Maybe this was just how to boy dealt with his stress, Hikaru supposed with a shrug. Everyone does it differently.
"Mitani, wanna play?"
The smaller boy shrugged indifferently. "I'll pass."
"Suit yourself!" Hikaru grinned. Mitani probably didn't have any frazzled nerves at all; he supposed dealing with games involving money would do that to a person.
The redhead sneered at him. "Just got out of practice, then?"
"Are you really that surprised?" Hikaru smirked cheekily.
Mitani snorted. "You stink, by the way."
His eyes widened, and he sniffed himself. He smelt like his deodorant. "You jerk," he looked up to see Mitani laughing blatantly at him.
He head his name behind him and, startled, he turned a bit to listen.
"Oh, that's Haze's Shindo."
"Haze's—?"
"He beat Kaio at the last tournament." And the guy went on to say. "He was only a sixth grader but he disguised himself as a Jr. High student and impressed those who watched him with some brilliant play."
Hikaru blushed a bit as the crowd became amazed. Which was totally ridiculous. These were kids his age gossiping, and yet they were making him feel more fluttery than his live television interview after the championship game! But it might be because those brilliant plays they were talking about were in Go, not in soccer, that was making him so flustered.
"Man," He smiled to himself, head resting in his hands. "I wonder what Kaio's third captain is like." From the rest of the team, probably a total jerk.
"It's me," Said a voice behind him.
He lifted his head quickly and swiveled around.
"Kaio's third captain is me," There was fire in that voice, a fire that had burned for almost a year in coming. "Shindou."
"Touya!"
He blinked suddenly. Wait, third captain? "W—why are you…?!" He stood quickly. "Third captain?" Touya was fully capable of being a pro already. In fact, Hikaru would go on to say that Touya and Yeongha would be evenly matched, regardless of Yeongha's ability to play higher dans. Therefore, he could certainly be first board on a school tournament.
"You haven't forgotten your promise, have you?" He began, intense-eyed and stone-faced. "You told me we would play again."
Had he said that? Hikaru was pretty sure he hadn't said that.
"…I'm finally here."
Akira had gone through great lengths to get to this moment. Not only had Yun-sensei adamantly refused to make him into third board until after extensive persuasion, he had been boiling over his match with Shindou ever since that fateful day at the go salon.
His eyes narrowed in conviction, "I'm not going to lose like before."
Hikaru wasn't sure what to say to that, lost in the intense emotions that brewed between them. How could someone be so serious about anything? He tried to remember Haze's game against Tomoeda, how his blood rushed through his body, coursing and searing his mind and his heart. Even the international tournament hadn't ever made him have an expression like that. But it wasn't the same. That was determination to prove himself, and to be there for his team. The light in Touya's eyes was something he'd never had before, a drive he'd never been able to achieve.
Inspiring.
"Ah," Hikaru reeled once he recognized the familiar voice. "So you're the one Touya was so worked up about," And, with a light tease, "Hikaru-kun"
"Err—" He flushed red when he saw who it was. "Misaki-chan!"
The first thing he noticed was that she had snipped her long, billowing hair for a short boy cut. If it weren't for her boobs and angry sounding voice, he probably wouldn't have recognized her. She gave him this sort of hate-smile, and he wasn't sure how to take it. Goodness, she didn't get over things very well, did she? Granted, he had kind of been a jerk about it, blowing her off unintentionally with all his soccer training and then finally just sitting her down and explaining the situation to her.
"So there's an opponent even Touya chases…" She folded her arms, and gave a bit of sigh. Touya blinked at her, looking as if he didn't quite know what to make of her. "I suppose you are pretty good though."
Pretty good? A little better than that.
"She's mad." Hikaru groaned palming his face. No shit she was mad. He looked back at Touya, putting Misake out of mind. "I'm sure we'll have a good match." Hikaru said, louder, as he smiled.
Behind them, conversation erupted again.
Hey isn't that Touya? He's wearing the Kaio uniform!
I've seen him in a Go magazine before…
Something about him being one of the future's greatest.
Why isn't he here? Isn't he an insei?
What's he doing in an amateur tournament?
TsuiTsui pushed through the crowd of people that had gathered at the doorway, completely forgetting he was holding Akari's wrist—if he had realized, he'd probably have blushed, immediately dropped it, and ran off to the bathroom in embarrassment—wondering what all the fuss was about. Around him, people began to chatter quietly about Touya Akira, and he had just gotten around to thinking what Touya had anything to do with a juvenile pre-high school go tournament, when he saw for himself.
"Touya is…." TsuiTsui gaped, suddenly overcome by a wash of desperation. Behind him, Akira peered over his shoulder at the mention of his name. "A member of Kaio?!"
Next to him, a group of three boys had begun to chatter. "Hey…." The first one said, looking quite worried. "We're playing Kaio in the first round."
Their first board pointed a finger at the smallest. "Touya just said he was third captain."
"Third captain..." TsuiTsui frowned in thought, turning away from their conversation. "Could it be….chasing Shindou…?"
"Bah." Mitani, contrary to the rest of the people gathered, didn't seem a bit phased by the appearance of the legendary Akira Touya as everyone else. "So you guys are Kaio." He sniffed, looking entirely uninterested.
"I heard you were strong, but didn't you lose to us last time?" Mitani smacked another stone down onto the game he was recreating. The girl he spoke to gave him a strange look.
"And who are you?" She crossed her arms, snidely.
"Haze's Mitani." He answered flippantly. "Kaio and Haze will meet in the second round."
"Oh wow," She put her hands on her hips. "How do you plan to beat Kishimoto-kun?" Mitani wondered if she was speaking of the boy in the corner who had been drawing pictures of orange-clad ninjas for the past twenty or so minutes.
"Hidaka—" One of her teammates began nervously.
"He plans to win by cheating." TsuiTsui said softly, so only Akari could hear.
"He wouldn't do that!" Akari protested, but in reality, she didn't know if that was the truth or not.
"TsuiTsui-san," Hikaru began admonishingly, but was cut off by Misaki.
"TsuiTsui?" She began questioningly. "Oh, the kid that beat us last time by pure luck." She added snidely.
TsuiTsui flushed angrily.
"Senpai sure was upset to lose by such a mistake." She began with a false, cheery smile. "Win by cheating, win by luck, Haze sure has some incredible members."
Hikaru narrowed his eyes. She sniffed, turning up her nose. She was being really mean to the two of them, and she had never met them before in her life! What was wrong with her, honestly…
"Mitani-kun?" She giggled, condescending. "You're just a first year who's the captain because of strategy, right?"
"What?!" Mitani slammed his hand down.
Oh. Now he understood what she was doing.
Hikaru scowled deeply, cutting in at that. "Oh, come off it Misaki," he rolled his eyes. "Don't push all your hatred of me onto my teammates, huh?"
And then, because she had attracted such a crowd and was being so foul, he added quite vindictively, "If I had known you would take getting dumped so badly I would have warned them before hand. It's not very nice to take out your insecurities onto other people, you know."
A couple of girls behind her broke out into snickers. Her teammate choked, valiantly attempting to hold his laughter. Misaki flushed furiously, looking as if she had gotten herself into a proper rage at this point. "Y—You…" She hissed.
"Look," he cut her off, exasperated. "This is a Go tournament, not a bitch fest. There's no reason to be picking fights with everyone."
She balled her fists, getting angrier.
"Hello."
A calm voice cut in smoothly. A boy with a Kaio uniform and some seriously excellent timing came up to them. "I'm Kaio's captain, Kishimoto. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand patiently, waiting for Mitani to shake it.
When he did, he began again, "I'll be looking forward to playing you in the second round. Let's have a great time."
He seemed to be a decent guy, and Mitani didn't know how to rebuke such an honest request. He nodded at the peaceful boy. "You too."
Hidaka smirked over her shoulder, the dark haired girl meekly following her. "Yeah, try making it to the second round. Then we'll see."
Hikaru sighed. "Don't listen to her. She's just doing that because she's mad at me." He assured them.
Mitani blinked a few times, and for a moment Hikaru was worried he was going to take her words to heart. Then he just smirked, shaking his head. "What the hell did you do to that girl, Hikaru?" He asked, drily.
Hikaru pouted. "Nothing—don't give me that look, honestly!" He scratched the back of his head. "We broke up over break; I kind of blew her off a bit, yeah, but I mean come on I was in Malayasia for a tournament—and then in Singapore for the championships! What exactly was I supposed to do?"
Mitani looked surprise as he went into a full-on rant. "I told her all that too, but it was like talking to a brick wall."
"You were in Singapore?" He said, incredulously.
"You were out of the country?" TsuiTsui balked.
Hikaru looked at both of them, confused. "Well, yeah. I told you I wouldn't be able to go to any of the practices over break, didn't I?"
But the coordinators had called for their attention, and neither of the two boys had time to respond.
Their first game against Iwana wasn't much trouble.
Hikaru didn't pay it any attention, simply enjoying holding the stone between his fingers. Each time he elegantly picked up a stone, was like listening to his favorite band on a rainy day. An indescribable, but simply enjoyable motion.
The boy resigned half way through, and he decided to take his lunch break early, suddenly infinitely grateful that Akari was here, now that he knew of the delicious bento she had brought. He near skipped out of the room of silent players, hoping to catch Akari somewhere and delighted at the idea of one of her home cooked meals. It would also be a good time to stretch out his legs—going from hardcore sprints to sitting still on his knees could not be good for them. He wondered how people like Touya and Yeongha could do it, sitting around in a room on their knees for such a long period of time. Professionals had probably perfected it, basking in the complete stillness, nothing disturbing their go.
If he became a pro, he'd have to learn how to do that too, Hikaru mused. Then he laughed aloud.
What a dumb reason not to be a professional go player—because they sat on their knees! That being said, Hikaru could not imagine a life where he was not moving; he couldn't sit still to save his life. That was why his parents had enrolled him so young into soccer camps in the first place.
"Shindou,"
He turned around at the familiar voice, surprised, and yet unsurprised to see Touya standing behind him, looking contemplative.
"Touya!" He smiled. "Why am I not surprised your game didn't go on for very long?"
"You won then?" He asked instead of answering.
Hikaru nodded. "Yeah, and I'm super hungry man. My friend made lunch—she always makes a lot, so we can share if you want!"
"You—" Touya blinked rapidly, clearly not used to the whirlwind that was Hikaru Shindou.
He shook his head, boggled by the boy. He was at a Go tournament, and all he could think about was food? "I came all this way to play you again," he said, unsteadily.
Hikaru paused, sparing him a regretful smile. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry for making you wait so much." He looked down, scuffing the floor lightly with his shoes. "You were right, you know, about what you said earlier." When we first met, he added, silently, and he knew Touya was thinking of that same fateful day.
"When I said what?" His brow furrowed.
"That I know absolutely nothing about Go!" Hikaru laughed. "And am probably an affront to all the people who love and cherish the game."
Touya opened his mouth, and then closed it, feeling bad. He hadn't meant it like that. Okay, he had, but that was only because he was so confused and angry and didn't know what to do with the boy he had found, the boy who was so amazing, and didn't seem to care about it at all.
"Anyway," he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I should have played you back during school, but I was too afraid."
Touya wondered how he could say that so matter-of-factly; so easily own up to his own fears, as if they weren't even fears at all.
"Too afraid?" He repeated.
"I don't really know how to explain it," the boy replied, sheepishly. "I just… I don't know. I felt like I couldn't play you. That I wasn't ready, or something."
But that was ridiculous; Shindou was more than ready. Shindou had wiped the floor with him during their last match, and he was the one who was afraid to play a match again? His thought stilled, and he frowned as something occurred to him. Maybe Shindou wasn't referring to his abilities being unready—but him, as a person, not being ready. His eyes softened a bit. He could imagine that it wasn't easy for someone in Shindou's position to accept Go.
"And during break?" Because there was ample time during then, too, and it wasn't as if Shindou didn't know Akira would be at the Go salon everyday like clockwork.
Shindou grinned, apologetic. "Ah, yeah… I'm on a club travel team, so I was away a lot."
He blinked rapidly. A club travel team? Team for what? But then he remembered that Shindou played football, and realized that was probably what he meant. This surprised Touya; he had never been fond of sports, and knew nothing about them, but he could assume that Shindou must be pretty good then.
"Hikaru!"
A voice interrupted them, and they both turned as a girl their age darted over to them. She was quite pretty, with auburn hair and a pretty smile. "I've been looking for you everywhere!" She chided.
Hikaru rolled his eyes. "You knew where I was going to be, Akari-chan. It's not like I could go very far or anything."
She pouted, but then brandished a bento box done up in pink wrapping. "I brought lunch!"
Hikaru's eyes widened. "Akari-chan, you're the best—oh, I guess I haven't introduced you two. Touya, this is Akari Fujisaki, she's a friend of mine. Akari-chan, this is Touya Akira, he plays for Kaio."
"Touya…?" Akari repeated, clearly having heard the name once or twice before.
"It's nice to meet, you, Fujisaki-san," Touya greeted, pleasantly.
"You too, Touya-kun." She returned, still looking a bit surprised. "Did you want to join us for lunch?"
The boy smiled, but this time it looked a touch strained. "Oh, thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I never have much appetite during tournaments like this." He turned to Hikaru. "Shindou… I'll see you in the next round."
Hikaru nodded, serious. "Yeah. Next round."
/
He wasn't sure what he was expecting from his match with Touya. The boy pulled out the chair in front of him, sitting opposite of him with a deep look of determination. This time, when he met that burning, piercing gaze he didn't flinch, but held his own. This time he wasn't afraid of the boy's sharp look; unsure of how to respond when he'd never held that sort of profound determination for anything. This time, he thought he could understand it.
"Please begin," the instructor called.
"You're black," TsuiTsui whispered to him. "And so's Mitani."
The three bowed in unison, greeting politely, "Please."
But Hikaru's was cut off. "Finally," Touya's voice was deceptively calm. "I finally get to play you again."
Hikaru blinked rapidly, surprised by such conviction held in those words. Yeongha's words came back to him; he had called Hikaru a gift to the go world. Is this what he meant? Touya seemed genuinely excited to play him, looking at him with an exalted expression; as if all he had thought about was playing Hikaru again; as if Hikaru was so great that it was impossible to think of anything else. Was he really that great? He certainly didn't think so. He didn't even understand how he was good at this game, at all.
Whether he was anxious due to nerves, or the anticipation of finally getting to play Shindou again, Touya didn't know.
Hikaru began the game with the upper right star point, Touya immediately responding, having waited for so long that his anticipation spilled right over, and he found he couldn't control himself. The game continued its fast pace, Touya slamming down stones, Hikaru meeting him at every turn, his go steady but his emotions uncontrolled.
He watched the boy in front of him with no small amount of wonder and incredulity; how could anyone be so… resolute? He thought back to the people he had met, Yeongha—who hid his profound love for the game underneath his 'hip-coolness'—Touya, the Meijin, TsuiTsui… all of them were eager to play Go. Where did his level of intensity match up to theirs?
Normally he would have scoffed at the idea of even comparing himself to them. What intensity?
Hikaru had picked up Go for fun, more to please his grandpa than anything else. The old man always commented on how good he was, but he was his grandfather, he was practically required to shower Hikaru with compliments. And then he played some more, met Touya, and realized that there were actually people who loved this game more than life itself, who held more determination and resolve to play than most people would ever feel for anything in their lifetimes, and had no idea what to make of it.
He certainly didn't have any of that. Or at least, definitely not with Go.
And yet… what with his strange feeling, in the pit of his stomach?
It felt a lot like mix of fear and excitement he experienced before all his soccer games. Like he wanted to play, was so excited to play, and while he was nervous, the nerves could never derail his drive for success.
Maybe he did have a bit of intensity in him, somewhere.
The thought made him smile.
Playing Touya was like… finding something he had been missing for a long, long time.
(one thousand years)
And he couldn't shake the feeling of vertigo that overcame him. The other boy had grown indefinitely, and he was greatly surprised. 15-4, 5-17, the game continued, Hikaru watching Touya's serious eyes as he continued their game. Those eyes which inspired him so greatly.
A lull came into the game, as he debated which move to play. His instincts—the ones that had defined each and ever move he played, which represented the game as a universe full of swirling stars, and he knew only by the motions within him where to play the stone—told him 13-14, yet his conscious told him 11-8. He debated with himself silently, the problem transcending simply where to place the stone, but what the divide in his conscious meant. On one side, he felt 11-8 was a perfectly good idea, and yet on the other, the spot nestled between the lines of black and white, unnamed and nothing but a fleeting instinct, seemed like a good idea as well. What was with this warring between the two sides of his consciousness? And when had it come about?
"Have I grown a bit?" Touya asked, apparently taking his silence as confusion for the game, not confusion for his own psych. "You've changed too." He added.
Hikaru blinked. "Have I?"
"You hold the stones better," Touya elaborated.
He looked down at himself, surprised. Yeah, he was. He looked like a floundering left-footed duck in comparison to Touya's graceful elegance, but he was improving all the same. It reminded him of gazing up into the sign for the Meijin's Go Salon, debating with himself if he really wanted to go in there and play a real game, with someone who wasn't his grandpa. Reminded him of how he just knew where to put the stones; he didn't know any techniques, any names, or even how to hold the stones. He just knew.
Like now.
He decided to stop thinking so deeply on it, deciding to just go with his instincts, and place the stones where his gut told him rather than trying to rationalize it out.
The game ended as abruptly and quickly as it had begun.
Touya bit his lip. He wished it could have gone on longer. Yet, even as he gazed down into the board, he could acknowledge that there was no other way for him but death. Shindou was insurmountable, he never gave even an inch—and it was brutal. He hadn't realized just how easy Shindou was going on him that first time, how much of a teaching game it really had been.
Still, amidst his disappointment at defeat, there was a rising sense of elation as well. Finally, he got to play the other boy again! And it was just as exhilarating as he had imagined it to be—Shindou had lived up to his expectations, and more.
And even if it was a loss, he had to admit that he had relished every moment of it. He would lose time and again, if only to try himself against such incredible talent over and over again.
"Are you… alright?" Hikaru asked, biting his lip and looking deeply concerned. Inwardly he was horrified at himself; he didn't know very much about the game, but even he could tell that it had been… rather vicious.
"Fine." Touya shook his head, smiling brilliantly.
Hikaru blinked. Huh. For a guy who had just been defeated so soundly he looked to be in fantastic spirits.
"You really are as good as I remembered." He frowned then, shaking his head. "No, you've gotten better."
"Have I?" Hikaru blinked, genuinely curious.
The go prodigy nodded. "Before—your moves were a bit outdated. But you've caught up to modern strategy."
Hikaru took this all with a solemn nod. In his head though, he had no idea what any of that meant. His play style was… outdated? Really? How could that be? And what the hell did that mean? He hadn't realized that he had a play style at all—where could it have come from, if Hikaru wasn't consciously doing any of this?
They began to clean the board, both equally lost in their thoughts. So lost they hadn't even bothered to check on their teammates—granted, neither of them had joined this tournament with any actual interest in winning.
"You know…" The blonde began, slowly. "I think I like Go."
This gave Akira pause. "You like Go?" He repeated.
"Yeah, it's fun."
His expression turned dark. "Fun?" He repeated again, this time with no small amount of heat. How could he just say something so callous like that?
Hikaru backtracked hastily. "I didn't mean it like that!" He assured, panicked. "I just meant—I like it. I like playing it—it is fun for me, you know? It's something I like to do, that I want to do, not something that's thrust upon me like homework or something and not something I don't really care about either way, like getting dragged to the arcade."
He blinked at those analogies.
"I…" He blinked a couple times, feeling embarrassed for some reason. "I want to play Go."
"Well that's—good." He found himself saying. It was a step, at least. But then, maybe it was unfair of him to expect Shindou to go from a curious observer to a die-hard fan in so small an amount of time.
"Actually Touya, I was thinking about it, and…" He rubbed the back of his head, fidgeting and looking away. "I think I'm going to take the pro exam."
Akira's mouth dropped open, and he accidentally dropped all the stones in his hands. He closed his gaping jaw, blinking in shock. "Y—You are?"
"Yeah." Hikaru nodded, smiling a bit. "I am."