I had to redo A LOT of this chapter because… the Japanese school year is vastly different than the American one, so I've pretty much been getting it all wrong!

/

"Pass!"

Five seconds later and Hikaru was driving up the field, the defense men hot on his tail. Ten seconds, and he'd gotten past the central and made an instep drive into the corner of the goal. The other forwards swarmed him with ecstatic shoulder clapping, ruffling his hair and saying how awesome the new first year was. Sometimes, he was happy to just be the only first year to make it onto the varsity team. It wasn't common, but it had happened a couple times, with especially talented kids. Hikaru most definitely could be considered talented.

More then talented, really.

Ryuu nudged his shoulder. "You see that weird looking dude over there, the one who's been on the phone this whole time?"

Hikaru blinked. No actually, he hadn't been paying all that much attention. But now that he was, he agreed. The guy was weird looking.

"What about him?"

"What about him?!" Ryuu blustered. "He's a KIA scout!"

Hikaru blinked even more than that. "KIA?" Now that, he knew. They were one of the elite club teams that Hikaru regularly played against. They had teams all over Asia, so Hikaru had run in to his fair share of them. "Why's he here?"

Ryuu laughed. "Probably scouting you." He teased.

"No way!" Hikaru rolled his eyes. "That's practically cheating!"

"Cheating how?"

"Well I play for SM," Hikaru said, slowly, surprised by the growing shock on the older boy's face. "And they're practically rival teams."

"I didn't know you were on a club team," Ryuu said, shocked.

"Yeah," Hikaru returned, distracted as he squinted out into the distance, trying to make out any defining features of the guy. "What branch do you think he's for? Japan? Hong Kong?"

"Hard to say," Ryuu replied at length, and if Hikaru had been paying more attention, he would have been concerned over his friend's expression.

The boy shrugged dismissively then, flopping onto the turf in a boneless heap. It was so hot. It was mind blowingly hot. It was the kind of hot that made him wonder if he would die of heat stroke out here, running sprints and scrimmages like this. Next to him, Ryuu stood in the baking sun, looking as if he'd dumped a cooler on top of himself. Hikaru probably didn't look all that much better, practically bathed in sweat.

It was strange to think summer vacation was starting soon. He felt as if he'd just gotten back from spring vacation, and then he was back again! Not that he was complaining, or anything. It wasn't as if he was a fan of school; that said, he had totally gotten his grades up to his parents standards, and though they were begrudging about it, they had agreed to buy him a computer if he kept his grades and stayed out of trouble.

Actually, though he doubted they would ever admit it, he was fairly sure his parents were pleasantly surprised with him. Not too long ago he'd been getting into all sorts of mischief, hanging out with the wrong (and far older) crowd, just trying to fit in. Nowadays he had no time for that kind of stuff, and no inclination. All he could really think about was soccer, really. Soccer and Go.

"Man," Ryuu poured a water bottle over his head, "I am so glad it's summer break. I need a break from this shit."

Hikaru made a vague noise of agreement. He knew he wasn't going to be getting any breaks. His club team would continue, break be damned. At least he wasn't going to be in any tournaments this summer, he thought with relief. Although there was the Hyundai Championships this winter, and his club team coach had been making noise about maybe getting Hikaru onto team Japan. Hikaru did not want to be on team Japan. He remembered the last time he'd played in a youth tournament representing his team, and it was stressful and exhausting. And, not to mention, utterly and irrevocably consuming; he would have no time for anything else besides eating, sleeping, and playing soccer. International tournaments were bad enough on his travel team, but being on the national team just made things so much worse.

Hikaru blinked.

When did he start thinking about it so negatively? He used to be bouncing at the thought of playing in big tournaments like that; getting to travel around without his parents nagging all the time; playing against great teams. He still enjoyed all that, but lately he'd thought upon it with more ambivalence than anticipation.

Actually, what he was really thinking was that it would severely cut into his Go time.

"What are you going to do for your break?" He asked idly, lolling his head to look at the older boy. He could hear the distant shouts of his teammates as they went through drills; they'd been split up into groups, and Hikaru's was finally getting a much needed water break.

Ryuu scratched his nose. "Not too sure yet. I think my family wants to go up to Hokkaido for a few weeks—but seriously, a few weeks? What the hell are we going to do up there?"

"You mean, what are you going to do without your girlfriend up there." Hikaru teased, grinning.

Ryuu nodded sagely. "My point exactly."

The third year looked down at him. "What are you going to do?"

"Play football." He answered, flatly.

Ryuu guffawed; "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be having practice a few times a week," Hikaru sighed. He really hoped they were indoor, otherwise he was fairly sure he would pass out before they even got past warm ups. "But no tournaments or anything." Which was very surprising.

"You're not going to go on vacation?"

"Probably not," the two-tone haired boy moped, before brightening, "I'm getting a computer though, so at least I'll have internet!" Maybe go to the pool with my friend; who knows, I might actually manage to get tan."

Ryuu barked a laugh. "Unlikely, kid."

/

Hikaru hadn't joked about being busy.

Football was certainly time consuming. It was probably for the best, as otherwise he'd be in his house all alone while his parents were at work, bored out of his skull. And that was just a recipe for disaster—and practically half the reason his parents had insisted he try out for a club team anyway. They said it would look good on his school applications and would be a great experience for him, and tactfully left out that it would also sap up all of his free time so he wouldn't have any left to get into trouble.

It totally worked though. Hikaru had no free time. His elite team was on a level far above Haze, and it showed in everything from their uniforms (brand new, nike sponsored) to their practice regime.

Today hadn't been so bad though, just film on a team from Osaka they were playing next week, and some light drills in the morning when the weather wasn't approaching heat stroke levels.

At any rate, Hikaru found himself with hours to spare for the first time in what seemed like ever, and Akari had immediately roped him into going to the pool.

Hikaru squinted beneath the desk, patting around blindly for the outlet. He found it after much difficulty, and managed to get the power chord for his laptop all set up. That ended up being the easiest of his problems, he quickly found out. "Internet password?" He scratched his cheek. Where the hell would they keep that?

He had to ferret about his dad's office until he managed to find the instructions squirreled away in a random filing cabinet. Then he had to figure out how to go about entering it and connecting it all up, and then finally trying to figure out how to play go.

"At least this way," He grinned to himself, hauling the laptop onto his spot on his windowsill. "I won't be too out of practice for the pro exams!"

He supposed go was a bit like soccer in that way. It wasn't something that one could just pick up and hold within. It had to be practiced intensely, every day, for the ability to grow better.

Touya said I was really good though, he thought to himself,.

But what did that even mean? Hikaru didn't actually know much about Go at all—for all his apparent talent he really had no idea what he was doing.

He paused.

Actually, on the subject of Go and soccer, it really reminded him of how he just knew what to do on the field from muscle memory alone. He never had to think about his footwork, or where he needed to be on the field or how to dart around a defensemen to get open; years and years of practice had gotten him to the point he just knew on instinct, and he could use his conscious to look for openings and read the field.

It was the same thing with Go. Except… he knew how to open up a game, how to attack clusters or shut down offensive moves, how to defend his own territory; but he didn't have the years and years of practice. It made absolutely no sense.

He turned the power on, waiting for the large thing to boot. It was pretty bulky and weighed heavily on his legs, but at least it was portable. His dad worked for the company that made it, so they got a discount. And his parents were so ecstatic at his grades he figured they would have bought him one regardless. Who knew that the quickest way to getting what you want was getting good grades?

Google was being incredibly unhelpful, and he was actually just about to call it quits when he realized he'd searched it so many times the online advertisements were all Go related things; one of them was a web banner for a free Go website.

Hikaru was fairly sure someone at some point in his life had warned him about clicking sketchy things on the internet, but when had he ever listened to advice from peope of authority in his life? So he clicked on it anyway.

It seemed amicable enough. He had to sign up for it though, and this was how Akari found him.

"Username?" He said aloud, stumped by this.

Every option he'd tried so far hadn't worked. Granted, none of them had been particularly original (Hikaru, Hikaru5, Pikachu, Luke Skywalker…) but it had been a decent amount nonetheless.

The doorbell rang, much to his consternation. He debated not even bothering to answer, before finally he got up with a dramatic capitulation and moved to peak out the window and see who it was. It was Akari, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a summer dress over a bathing suit, looking impatient. He scowled, wondering what to do now. On the one hand, he really wanted to play Go. On the other, he hadn't hung out with Akari at all this summer and he could tell she was getting really disheartened with that—he hadn't meant to ignore her the whole break, but he really didn't have the time. Eventually his conscious got the better of him, and he wrenched the window open.

"Akari-chan!" He shouted down, catching her attention.

"Hikaru-kun!" She chirped, ecstatic. "You're home!"

"Yeah—give me a second to get changed and I'll come down, alright?"

"Sure! Bring a bathing suit, we're going to the pool!"

"I had figured that much out myself, thanks." He rolled his eyes, sarcastic. She cursed at him in response, and he shut the window to start digging out a pair of swim trunks.

After what seemed like a small eternity of Akari wheedling him about proper suntan lotion and water safety, they finally made it to the pool.

And then Akari promptly laid out her towel, flopped face first onto it, and didn't move.

Hikaru sputtered inelegantly. "Aren't you going to get in?"

She made an indecipherable grunt.

"We did not just come all the way here for you to just lay there." He declared, expression severe.

"Just for a little bit!" She whined, looking back at him. "I really want a nice tan!"

"Can't you get that in the pool?"

But she'd already shoved her face back into her towel, and appeared to be fishing out a magazine from her bag with one hand.

Hikaru scowled, rolling his eyes as he pivoted smartly and turned away from her. There was a decent crowd at the local swimming pool, predominantly kids their age who were also out of class for the summer. To his total lack of surprise, he noticed most of them were doing the exact same thing as Akari.

He looked back to spare Akari an irascible look, but she was not paying attention.

Instead of pushing the issue, Hikaru turned around and strode over to the deep end, figuring he might as well try some of those flips he used to be able to do while she was sitting around doing literally nothing.

Something about the water made him uneasy though, and he wondered why. Water had never bothered him before. Hikaru had been near born for the water, much to Akari's chagrin. She complained he was too good at all sports; back when they were very young and still on co-ed sports teams she would always whine about it, and how unfair it was, and then she would tackle him into the mud and wrestle him to prove she was cooler than him anyway. Hikaru couldn't help that though, he'd always been a rambunctious, energetic child. But all this just meant that he was fearless in the face of contact sports, big diving boards and the deep end of the pool.

So why did he feel such apprehension at the sight of the water?

He climbed onto the board warily, wondering what this feeling was. He'd certainly never felt this way before.

It's just water, he rationalized. And you know how to swim; what the hell is wrong with you?

And yet, he eyed the shimmering surface with great unease, and the idea of willingly getting into it made all the hairs on the back of his neck rise. There was no one over at the deep end of the pool, and the silence only seemed to make everything worse. He walked slowly to the end of the diving board, peering down into the murky depths. He didn't feel like himself, suddenly, and the world seemed to crumble away into a diminutive universe that he only half-remembered.

If he was actually thinking rationally, he would have come to the obvious conclusion that something was wrong and that he shouldn't get in the water. Strange feelings aside, he'd gotten pretty bad turf burn on his calf from a side tackle gone awry and getting in the water with it would be both unsanitary and painful; he was probably dehydrated; and why borrow trouble and get accidentally get injured somehow?

All of these were perfectly logical reasons not to do this, and yet he did it anyway.

He hit the water in a perfect dive, but everything felt wrong.

His chest seemed to constrict upon itself and ice cold fear shivered up his spine. Hysteria welled in the back of his throat and suddenly he felt like he couldn't move, his entire body seizing up.

He felt as if he was suffocating; he wanted to struggle, but for some reason his body wasn't listening to him.

Hikaru's eyes slipped shut, and he seemed to fade out of his own mind. He wanted to reach out for the sparkling surface just above, but it felt as if he couldn't break the surface.

No, that was inaccurate, it was as if he didn't want to come back up. He wanted to float in his sorrow forever...

He sunk lower and lower, until he had made it to the bottom, where he sat there in the deepest silence, watching the light refract from the waves above him. There was nothing around him, yet he felt as if there were long strands of kelp that made their way from the rocky bed of the river, their tangled hands stretching to the sky above them, to where the sun slid from the choppy surface of the river.

There were long, thin strands of purple around him, floating skywards and curling with the current, and he vividly remembered his recurring dream. The wisps of purple lines, smoky, abstract green hands stretching to the sun, and a broken looking sky, deep orange spots speckling it.

This was his dream, he realized.

The purple was his hair, long and flowing, as he descended lower and lower until he was one with the rocks, the green was the plants that pulled to the sun, and the sky lay unbroken past the choppy surface of the water, red water lilies causing blossoms of fiery orange on the water's edge.

Everything clicked, and just as Akari dived into the pool to drag him out, he mouthed the words that the picture made;

Sai

/

It was fate, surely, and Hikaru didn't believe in fate so this made him uneasy.

After spending so much time earlier trying to figure out what moniker to go by… Sai ends up being available.

Sai:

I'm strong, aren't I?

A part of him was just feeling triumphant, but another pat of him was genuinely interested in hearing the answer. He knew he was strong, but he didn't understand why.

Zelda:

Who are you?

Hikaru exited out of the after game chat window without answering, bounding up to go to the kitchen and microwave himself some processed food for dinner. His parents were working late, but Hikaru didn't mind the time alone. Not when he had an infinite amount of Go at his fingertips. Zelda was good, nowhere near as good as Touya or Yeongha (he'd begun to categorize people as either close to Touya, or not close to Touya) but better then anyone he'd played at the Haze go club.

He watched the online list grow amusingly, wondering who to play next. Sometimes, he'd log off of his Sai account and change names, to try and play by actually thinking through all the moves and strategies instead of just placing stones in whatever order fit his fancy. He decided to give his mind a rest though; the skill between what he called his 'heart' and his mind were so vastly different it didn't seem like it was worth the effort to try to raise both of their skill levels. Every time he tried to rationalize through a game he ended up losing. But when he played as Sai he had at least two dozen invites for games.

He sprawled himself out at the kitchen table, bowl full of instant ramen noodles steaming in front of him as he scrolled through the messages on his phone.

All the Haze football team kids were a bunch of rowdy jocks who wanted to go out all the time and party. His club teammates were far more reserved and serious about football, but still went out and had fun on occasion. He normally would be all set for either of those two options, but lately he'd been kipping out on both teams to play Go instead. Still, it was funny to read through all the group messages to see just what sort of mischief they were getting into.

He entertained the idea of a guy like Touya going out with a bunch of guys and just hanging out. He couldn't see it at all, with anyone he knew from the Go club. Mitani maybe, but even still he didn't think it'd be the boy's style; probably too juvenile for him.

On the subject of Go players, his phone lit up with a new message from Yeongha.

The Korean pro was ecstatic that Hikaru was still playing Go, and was considering the pro test. He had no doubts that Hikaru would pass with flying colors. He felt rather bashful with all the praise, in a way he'd never been with football or anything else—bashful, and totally unworthy. He liked being good at Go, even though he had no idea why he was so good at it.

Hikaru swallowed. Was that really true though? After that day at the pool, he wasn't so sure.

Have you been online lately?

Hikaru blinked, holding his chopsticks in his teeth to reply. What do you mean?

Playing netgo, the Korean extrapolated.

Oh. Yeah.

Is your username Sai?

He choked, sending the chopsticks clattering back into the bowl. How did you know?

Your play style is very memorable, of course I knew it was you.

Hikaru rolled his eyes at the dismissive, egotistical voice he could practically hear. And yet he texted him to confirm anyway. No, I mean, how did you even know I was online to look?

Yeongha didn't strike him as the kind of guy who would spend his time playing netgo when he had the entire Korean professional world to challenge. No doubt the Korean thought it all beneath him.

Did you really think someone of your skill level wouldn't stir up a lot of interest?

Huh?

What was that supposed to mean?

To his annoyance, the other boy didn't respond. Well, whatever. It couldn't be that big of a deal, it would be just like him to be dramatic over something insignificant.

Hikaru ended up not getting any sleep that night, too busy playing netgo and altogether enjoying himself, lost in the feel of the game that could entertain him for hours upon hours. For some reason, unlike anything else he'd ever held interest for, go never became stale for him.

The more he thought of it, the less worried he became about the pro exams, and where his level of determination and drive matched with Touya's.

Akari hadn't brought him to the pool any more, deciding that he was going to drown and it would be entirely her fault and she'd have to live with killing her best friend for the rest of her life. Hikaru thought she was overreacting a bit.

He'd spent most of his summer—regrettably, sleeping. His mother was furious, saying he was wasting his life away, and his father seemed amused at his sudden introduction to the world of a slothful sofa spud, telling his wife that Hikaru could use a week or two without stress. His mom was all about getting summer homework done while his dad reminded her about the his club team practice and his summer conditioning camps. What they didn't know, was that Hikaru didn't sleep his days away from exhaustion over the year or because he was lazy. He did so to piece together the messages in his dreams. Well that, and he was so damn exhausted all the time.

Akari and he had been to a bookstore a couple days back—seeing as though the girl was too worried about him dying in the pool to bring him back there, they had to come up with a new way to spend their Monday mornings—and he had purchased a blank notebook. Akari teased that he would be one of those old stuffy critique writers for crappy magazines pretty soon, but he shook her off.

The book, at the moment, was scrawled through with vivid images he could recall from his dreams, like the fiery red of the flowers, the water, the drowning. So far, he'd uncovered his name.

Fujiwara Sai.

He'd drowned, Hikaru was fairly sure the reason had something to do with go. How death and go had anything to do with each other, he wasn't very sure. Being killed because of go just didn't seem like a logical explanation. The game was too peaceful to cause such a reaction.

Great, he thought to himself. I know that his name was Fujiwara Sai. He died. What does this have anything to do with me?

/

Summer came to a close, and before he knew it the oppressive heat wave settled over Tokyo slowly made way for the gentle reprieve of autumn. Hikaru could have kissed the coloring leaves; finally, a practice that didn't end in him covered in gallons of sweat! Unfortunately, the changing of the seasons also meant more school, but that was the least of his problems. As long as he kept his grades up, anyway.

"Hikaru!" His mother called sharply. "Are you awake yet?"

"EH!?"

He checked the clock on the bottom of his computer. It was already morning. In fact, he had thirty minutes to get to the train or else he would be late for his first day of the exams.

He immediately sprinted to his closet and grabbed a green sweatshirt that hung lopsidedly off of his shelf, a big five on the front. He pulled on some jeans he found on his floor hurriedly as he darted into the bathroom across the hall, rubbing his hair with one hand as it skewed atop his head as he brushed his teeth. The blond edges curled upwards to make an altogether spectacular bed head.

"Hikaru!" His mother called again, sternly, as he trudged down the stairs.

She stood a the base of the steps with one hand on her hips, the duster in one palm, hair tied back with cloth and her cleaning apron on.

He huffed as he walked by her "Don't worry mom!" He scowled as he entered the kitchen. "I won't be late!" He stuffed a piece of toast in his mouth to hold it, the other rifling through the refrigerator to grab the homemade bento Akari had made for him the day before.

His mother huffed. "Well you never know with public transportation."

"Sure you do." He retorted, slipping into his battered kicks, before turning with a wave. "The trains always five minutes late!"

"You're going to be five minutes late!" She shot back, before he took off at an alarming rate down the road.

She watched him go with a hand to her cheek, as he speeded past the houses and rounded the corner faster than she ever believed he could be. Perhaps all those years of soccer and conditioning had amounted to something after all. At the rate he was going he'd make it to the station with enough time to buy a breakfast and read the paper. And perhaps he was old enough to decide when to leave the house without her having to call him to.

Her boy was growing up.

/

"So you think he's a kid?" Fuku asked Waya, as they toed off their shoes before placing them in the cubbyholes.

Waya glowered. "I'm positive. Did you see what he said to me? He said—

"I'm strong, aren't I?" Nase cut in, as she walked up to them from inside, shoes already off. "You've told us this so many times already, Waya."

"And what about what he said to that Yuuki guy, huh? He sounded like a kid then, too." Waya said pointedly.

Nase shrugged. "What does it matter? If he's here, we'll know. If he isn't, then we'll check that amateur tournament. Okay?"

Waya grumbled, but said nothing else.

The three made their way into the preliminary rooms, and sat down accordingly. He eyed the people as they filed in, knowing this was the year Touya Akira was going tot take the exam. What would the boy look like, though? He'd seen him once or twice in blurry unmemorable pictures in magazines, but mostly only heard of him. By the time the room had made it to full capacity, Waya stopped paying attention, too busy staring down his first opponent to carefully inspect every single person who came in.

"Where have you been?" Touya asked with bite, as Hikaru quickly stumbled into the room alongside him.

Hikaru rubbed his head sheepishly. "I was hungry?"

"Hungry." The young prodigy repeated flatly.

They said nothing else, splitting their separate ways as they took their seats across from their opponents. Touya's was a small, frightened looking boy, who looked as if he was normally easy-going but when he realized who's name was next to his, had lost his nerves. Touya sighed, there wouldn't be any real danger of losing at least, he supposed, but in exchange for the thrill of a challenge.

By the time the sensei had announced it was lunch break, he was already breaking ahead and was currently leading by a great deal. It would be in the boy's best interest to resign after the break.

He caught up to Shindou, who was making his way to his bag. He pulled out the book he had brought to read, figuring that Shindou—from his perpetual frown—wasn't in a good mood at the moment and probably didn't want to talk about their games. Perhaps he was losing? Akira shook his head as the two sat down opposite of a scowling red head and the boy he was playing with. Shindou wouldn't lose to anyone here, he was too strong. The thought was too ridiculous to even entertain for a moment. Shindou could give most pros a run for their money; the boy made no sense at all.

Waya's glowering deepened as he drummed his fingers on the wood of the table.

"Waya-kun?"

He turned when he heard Fuku calling his voice.

"H—Huh?"

"What are you thinking about?" The younger boy must have been motioning to the scowl marring his facial expression. "Did you make a mistake in the game?"

"No I didn't." He rolled his eyes. Fuku could be so stupid. "Shut up."

He sat with his hands cradling his head, propped up with his elbows, wondering why he was getting frustrated over Sai still. Who was he? Why didn't he answer when he asked? Was he a kid? A professional? An amateur? Someone in this room?

Next to Touya, and across from the redhead, Hikaru sneezed.

His mood had increased ten fold once he opened Akari's bento, the delicious smell mouth watering. In his happiness he rubbed the side of it against his cheek.

"You look happy." Touya surmised with mirth, as Hikaru's grin increased.

"Ramen is the food for the gods..." He sighed dreamily. "But Akari's bento's...well, they're like the god's favorite food."

"That doesn't make much sense." He said lightly, but Hikaru didn't seem to care.

Waya blinked suddenly,studying the boy across from him in a new light.

"Touya Akira...?" Said the boy across from him.

"Yes?" Touya blinked, looking up from his book with a confused face.

Around them, people began to chatter about him. Apparently, no one had realized what he looked like.

Touya blushed.

Waya glared.

Fuku sipped his drink.

And Hikaru continued to rub his face against his bento, unaware of the commotion Touya's presence was causing.

The mouse-like boy shrugged. "I knew it was Touya."

Waya swiveled to see the boy beside him. "Why?"

"I'm playing him today. He's dominating me."

"How can someone trying to be a pro sound so weak?!" Waya snarled, grabbing him in a headlock. Fuku bemoaned about how it was useless to resist.

Touya blinked. "Are you two insei?"

"Yup!" The little boy nodded. "This is my first year taking the exam." He motioned to the older boy next to him. "It's Waya's third."

The redheaded boy blushed. "S—Shut up Fuku!"

"Man, starting off with a loss." Fuku sighed, as he leaned back on his elbows. "That's not a good way to start it off."

"Don't say that!" Waya interrupted hotly, pointing an accusing finger at Touya. "Come from behind against this guy!"

Fuku frowned. "Waya, you're too upset today. What happened?"

Waya propped his elbows up, a contrary look on his face. "Yesterday I was playing on the internet against a really strong guy. That strength was definitely that of a pro...and then... he says, 'I'm strong, aren't I?' It made me so mad."

"That doesn't sound like something a pro would say." Akira interrupted.

Waya scowled. "No one was talking to you!"

Next to Touya, Hikaru near regurgitated his sushi as he choked on it causing the whole table to look at him wearily. He sputtered a bit more, hunched over his food, and for a moment, Akira worried he was dying, and genuinely panicked because he didn't have the slightest idea what to do when someone was choking. The boy began to shudder, and Touya became increasingly worried, until he realized that Hikaru wasn't trembling because he was choking, but because he was laughing.

Waya seemed to notice it to, and, with a sour expression, asked, "What's so funny, huh?"

Hikaru threw his head back as he chuckled, wiping his eyes.

'I—I just..." He reverted into another bout of laughter before finishing. "Didn't think you'd get so worked up about it!"

Waya growled. "What does that mean?!"

"If I knew you'd take that so insultingly," The boy began, with a strange sort of predatory smile. "I wouldn't have said that!"

Waya gaped for a bit, as his mind pieced together what this meant.

"You—" His breath hitched.

The boy before him grinned even more, looking more and more cat like with each passing moment. It was scary, how his eyes flickered from green to bright blue in the wan spill of light from the fluorescent bulbs, watching him like a lion might watch a mouse between his paws.

"You're Sai!"

Hikaru only gave him a thumbs up. "Yeah!"

"Sai?" Touya echoed, watching Hikaru curiously.

Hikaru turned to him. "My parents got me a laptop, so I've been playing netgo recently. Sai's my name."

"Why Sai?"

Touya's question struck a nerve, but luckily, Hikaru didn't have to answer it, as Waya had already butted in once more.

"Why did you get off?!" He interrupted, leaning over the table to peer into Hikaru's eyes.

The other boy blinked innocently. "Uh. It was dinner time, and I got hungry. Sorry, I didn't think it was that big of a deal."

Waya was struck speechless, stunned into silence by such a… a reasonable answer.

"Big of a deal?!" Waya repeated with some tart. How could this boy not know how important this was! What skill, he possessed? It was like Shuusaku's gift combined with modern plays, an unbeatable team that no one else in the world could beat—or at least, he doubted anyone could. Maybe not even the Meijin. How could he just nonchalantly play around? Why wasn't he an insei? "Its a huge deal!" Waya elaborated. "The whole online world is obsessed with finding out who you are!"

"Really?" Hikaru wrinkled his nose. "Well don't tell anyone okay? I don't want people stalking me or anything."

Too engrossed in the fact that he had just inadvertently discovered Sai, Waya said nothing else, looking significantly subdued for the rest of the lunch break, a fact that Touya took greedily, being able to finish two more chapters in blissful silence without the redhead yelling about something or other.

When they were called back in, Touya quietly put away his book, walking over to the bag holding area with Shindou, who seemed to mourn the loss of his bento.

"You never told me you played netgo." Akira began conversationally, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Sure, they were rivals, but that hardly constitutes to anything when your rival hardly acknowledges your presence or ability.

Hikaru, as if reading his mind, smiled benignly. "I figured you wouldn't care. I mean...netgo is beneath you, so what would be the point in telling you I played on some site anyway?"

The boy had a point, Akira was never one for frivolous activities, like playing online just to play go, not to get better. Of course, playing go just for the sake of playing wasn't a fruitless endeavor, he just derived more interest from playing challenging games where he could learn something. Hikaru seemed to be the opposite. Not playing to learn, but because he wanted to be surrounded with people with the determination to succeed, and to perhaps gain some of this burning desire himself. It was almost as if he was doing it for someone else, becoming a pro for the sake of the go world rather then his own.

But it was just... Hikaru didn't come once over break to play Go with him, and yet apparently he was playing a whole bunch of Go online!

"If you wanted to play," he began crossly. "Why didn't you just play me?"

Hikaru blinked. "Playing you is special!" He said, easily, as if that wasn't the highest compliment anyone had probably ever given him.

But what did special mean, exactly?

Akira didn't ponder this, taking out the small slip of paper that read his number and showing it to Hikaru as they walked back into the room.

"I'm number 7, what are you?"

The boy grinned, and gestured to his green hooded sweatshirt, which read "five" in large English letters. "Lucky number five." He grinned.

Touya nodded. "So we'll meet in a couple weeks."

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He mock saluted, as he moved back to where he was sitting.