School started abruptly, summer ending its smooth, unknowing course with a sudden halt, sending Hikaru tipping over into the new school year as if he had been dallying about on a moving walkway in the airport, and had completely forgotten to get off at the end. He'd be lying if he said he was even in the least bit excited for school. Rather the opposite, unlike Akari, who was pumped for the next semester, ready to start vying for the top spot as she always did with the nerds of their class.
Hikaru walked into his first class, and wanted to die.
Algebra seemed to get twice as hard as it was before the break, Hikaru nimbly passing the last term with the grades his parents wanted, and had no idea how he'd manage to get that to happen again. (Maybe he should ask Mitani for cheating lessons). History was just as bad, sneaking up on him and biting him where he least expected it—world history. He barely even knew Japanese history, let alone the rest of the worlds. The only class he really paid attention in, and really wanted to excel in was English class. The internet had really opened his eyes to all sorts of possibilities, and English was really hard to get away from on the web. He liked the language, or rather, he liked that it always seemed to be a common denominator everywhere he went. At his international football tournaments all the kids came from everywhere across the Asia-Pacific, and none of them spoke the same language, but all of them had some proficiency in English. That had definitely helped him improve. It was so useful! Unlike algebra, he scowled.
Not to mention the pro exams had started already.
Both Hikaru and Akira held perfect records for their first six games. This wouldn't hold for long, one of them would emerge clean and the other with a smudge on their record.
Touya felt it wouldn't be him—Hikaru, for all his laziness and sporadic interest in insignificant things would be able to beat him hands down. But this did not mean he wasn't determined to try his best anyhow. He was highly anticipating the match.
"How was it?" Hikaru asked languidly as they stretched during lunch break. Touya was reading a Japanese translation of Sense and Sensibility, to which he encouraged Hikaru to do the same, at least to get a feel for English literature. As if. The boy next to him was too engrossed in his latest pokemon game to even look up.
Touya eyed the screen warily, as Hikaru made his was through an 8-bit forest. "Good, I suppose. It would be in my opponents best interest to resign soon."
Hikaru said nothing for a moment, deep in the battle he was currently wagering. "That's good, right?" He said uninterestedly, probably not knowing an ounce of what he was responding too.
Touya made a small, exasperated noise in the back of his throat. "Right." The boy was a go prodigy, probably much more so than himself. He had been born into the game, into perfect accordance with this world and had never needed to learn the rules. Komi had been one of his first words, moku, his first true understanding. And go itself, the biggest existence in his life. Hikaru had only picked it up a fairly recently, playing around with his grandfather, and eventually wandering into his father's go salon and meeting him. He'd never been serious about go—and, for that matter, serious about anything—which made Akira reel in shock. Hikaru was an impossibility. It was just downright impossible for anyone to be able to simply 'pick up' go to his skill level.
He decided not to voice any of his opinions. He'd realized by now that engaging Hikaru in deep conversation about his future would only cause him to entertain the struggle of cold feet, and run away from the intensity.
And that was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen.
"How's your game going?" He asked the boy with two-toned hair, who again, answered noncommittally.
"Great. I pretty much already won." Note; lack of enthusiasm.
"You don't seem to happy about that." Touya mused.
Hikaru shrugged. "It's not very challenging." Then he finally looked up from his video game, brightening. "It'll be great to be pros, right? I bet every match'll be interesting then!"
Yes, they probably would be. On anyone else, this exuberance and lack of concern would seem egotistical and narcissistic, but on Hikaru it managed to look both genuine and inspiring. Maybe he was an impossibility. Maybe he really did make no sense. But he was here nonetheless and seemed to candidly want to play Go, because he liked Go, and wanted to play it. It was as simple as that.
Akira swallowed. "What did you mean, before?"
"Hmm?" Hikaru drawled, attention diverted once more.
"Earlier, when you said that playing me was special," he continued, quietly. "What did you mean by that?"
The question had been plaguing him for ages.
Hikaru blinked, looking thoughtful. "Well, I dunno. Playing you just feels different. It just… feels like more, I guess."
Akira blinked, not quite knowing what to make of that, but feeling pleased nonetheless.
/
Ogata Seiji sighed as he closed the front door to his apartment, following the young brunette in front of him with great reluctance, plodding along sullenly, cigarette in his mouth as the comely woman frowned at him.
Ogata had a habit of over analyzing things and picking them apart until nothing was left unturned. This was a perfect foundation for his go, which was built upon layers and layers of over thinking. However, this was also the cause of perpetual romantic failures after the three month line.
Soriyama Ume was going to be hitting that mark in a few days time, and he figured he might as well enjoy the time when it lasts. It wasn't as if the girl was too stupid, or too dull, but that she simply, like every non-go player, didn't understand the massive part of himself that was dedicated to the subject in question. She was beautiful, he admitted to himself quietly, as the boarded into his car, like an idol or something equally as fabulous. Anyone would be satisfied with a girl like her.
She held her hands placidly in her lap, like a pair of delicate butterflies, watching the city from the window of his sleek red car.
The man certainly knew how to ride in style, she mused.
"Where are we going?" Ogata asked finally, cracking the window to let the twining hands of smoke into the open air. Ume didn't like it when he smoked.
She turned sharply to him, as if appalled he'd already forgotten. If she made a comment about that, he was going to point out that she had forgotten about his league match the other day. "My brother's soccer game." She sighed. "First of the season."
"Ah." He acknowledged without interest. And then, with a sudden cold chill. "Will your parents be there?"
Ume was a twenty-three year old girl, hardly even of age when he thought about it. He doubted her parents were keen on her dating a man almost five years her senior and a professional go player. Hardly the career choice one thinks of when they think, ''rich and famous is the only way for my beautiful daughter'.
She shook her head, relieving the tension that had whited his knuckles. "No, they're out of town, that's why I wanted to make an effort to go."
The pro shrugged. "How long?"
"An hour or so."
That wasn't too bad. There were thousands of shittier things she could subject him to. They drove over past the city and into the suburban district area, as she directed him through picture perfect single family houses that she eyed with a keen longing that he immediately pretended he didn't see. Why was it that every women always wanted to immediately start a family? And why did they always seem to look at him when they thought of that?
"It's here." She pointed to the sign that read, 'Haze Junior High'.
Ogata pulled into the parking with practiced ease, one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out the rolled down window, head leaning out to see behind him.
When they came to a stop, he noticed a sullen looking boy from his rear view mirror. He shared the same sharp cheekbones and big bright eyes, dark tousled hair and the contrary looking face when he was contemplating something deep, and looked uncannily like Ume.
"Sousuke!" She called immediately, leaping from his car to hug the boy.
The boy scowled darkly, but seemed inwardly pleased that his sister was showering him with so much attention. Ogata sighed as he exited the car, hearing it lock behind him. Typical angsting thirteen year old boy, who claimed he didn't want any attention yet inwardly yearned for it. How he hated those years.
"Ume—" The boy struggled. "Someone might see!"
She smiled brilliantly at the younger boy, and Ogata could see some of the mirth that had attracted him to her in the first place. "So, who are you playing today?"
"Kaio." The teen said sullenly, kicking a pebble on the curb. "Apparently our team crushed them last time, but that was for the spring season. Apparently most of their kids play tennis during then so now they've got all these guys who are getting back on the team who are pretty good." The boy didn't look too happy about that.
"Oh?" Ume looked puzzled. "I thought you lost to them last time..."
"E—err," Sousuke looked flustered. "I mean Varsity. JV didn't do so well against them."
"Varsity?"
At the thought of the higher team, the boy immediately brightened again, tugging his sister's hand and altogether forgetting his existence. Not that he really cared. He doubted he would be sticking around long enough to meet the rest of the family. Quite frankly, he was surprised by the teen's exuberance. Maybe he shouldn't be; they got interested in the weirdest things.
"You should see them play!" Sousuke said hurriedly, as he rounded the corner onto the field. "Varsity's really great this year. They've got Tachibana,"
He motioned to a silvery blur streaking down the field, three other boys keeping stride with him. He was pretty surprised, they were moving rather fast. Kaio, who he assumed from the colors they were wearing that decently matched Akira's uniform, seemed to be left behind in the dust.
"He's fast." Ume commented, wide-eyed.
Sousuke grinned. "Yeah, the guy with dark hair is the captain Tsukasa." He said with some sort of pride.
The boy, Tachibana, kicked it to Tsukasa, who drove to the goal and slammed it with the bottom of his foot, sending it swirling over one of the defenders before toppling into the ground due to the spin. The goalie was able to deflect it, however.
"And the blonde one..." He began with a harsh intake of breath, a dreamy-eyed look that reminded Ogata sorely of Akira when he was watching one of his father's more important, more spectacular games. As if watching god, as if partaking in something so beloved that his breath was ripped right away from him. "Is Shindou Hikaru. He's definitely the best."
"In your opinion?" Ume teased lightly.
Sousuke shook his head vehemently. "No he really is! He's the reason we're so good! He made Varsity as a first year, and last year he won the under-seventeen international championship for team Japan—and, and before that he was on the undefeated u-15 team Japan!" The boy ended with reverence.
"Oh, wow, he played on the national team?" She mused, before adding with a laugh; "Well he couldn't have done it without his team!"
Sousuke scowled. "No way—Shindou is the best. He plays for SM you know, and everyone knows they're the best club team in the country—
But Ogata hadn't heard the rest of that sentence.
All he could think of was Akira's face in anguish, as he trudged past his father's study, where a group commenced weekly to study important games of the week—this one being Kuwabara's—without even passing them a glance. This in and of itself was strange behavior, never mind the tragic expression. When Ogata had asked him what the reason for such a scowl was, he had replied, "I met this boy at the salon. He was...on a level far beyond me. I don't even know his name."
The next time he had seen Akira, the boy was contrary in rage, looking—if he had been that kind of person—as if wanted to punch the nearest wall. When Ogata asked him why he looked so troubled, he had again answered about the same boy. "I thought I could beat him...I had thought that I had simply underestimated him and that was why I lost." The young prodigy had closed his eyes. "But I was wrong. Shindou Hikaru, he is like nothing I've ever encountered before."
While Akira was young and had room to grow, he was still a formidable opponent. Anyone able to draw out such a reaction from the usually calm boy was certainly someone to keep an eye out for.
"Shindou Hikaru?" He repeated aloud, and Sousuke near jumped, as if suddenly realizing that he was even there.
"Yeah." The dark haired boy nodded, inching closer to his sister, as if he was scared of him. "He's the teams striker. Him and Tsukasa and Tachibana take turns though. They have such incredible teamwork."
Ogata nodded absently, sparing the field another glance—this one with more interest. He saw the three in question, sprinting down the field with, true to form, a surprising amount of coordination, passing the ball around defenders as if they knew intrinsically where the other would be.
Finally, the dark haired boy passed it to Shindou, who used a couple fancy moves to slam it right out of the goalie's reach. The crowd roared as the team's forwards ran up to ruffle Shindou's hair. One tackled him into the ground. Ogata sneered.
They couldn't possibly be the same though, the Shindou Akira spoke of, the go prodigy who was taking the pro exams this year, and the one in front of him who looked as if he'd never lived a life off of the soccer field.
The game ended pretty quickly after that, Sousuke grudgingly scuffing his feet onto the field with his other teammates on the junior team, looking like he was ready for a thrashing. Ume seemed completely unaware of her brother's dour mood, cheering loudly in a strikingly loud voice. Ogata winced, before turning away, watching the two-toned haired boy with the rest of his team, going through some of the mandatory stretches. He certainly didn't look like a go player, but seeing as though the only young go player that Ogata had ever seen recently was Akira, and perhaps Ichikawa was a far stretch from being qualified as "young" regardless of how mature he acted.
"Nice goal, Hikaru." Ryuu grinned at him, leaned completely over his left leg, from where the corner of his ankle to his knee had begun to blacken in a long line of bruises. "I doubt even Tsukasa could have gotten it."
Hikaru shrugged nonchalantly, while inwardly glowing at the praise. "Yeah, but he set me up for the shot, I should probably be thanking him."
"A pretty sick assist, if I do say so myself." The captain cut in with a grin, shaking out his limp dark hair from the icy water he had sprayed on it.
"I thought I'd be down after that charge their defender gave me," Hikaru rolled his shoulder liberally, wondering how it was still in use after he was tackled to the ground. "I kinda wish coach had taken me out now..." He drifted off pointedly, wincing as his shoulder twinged in protest to all the movement.
"Shindou Hikaru...am I right?"
Hikaru turned around quickly, not recognizing the soft, feminine voice. Next to him, Ryuu let out a low whistle, quiet enough that only he and Tsukasa heard.
Behind him, a vaguely familiar girl was fidgeting nervously, sparing him a questioning smile. She was a ways older than him, and very pretty, with striking auburn hair and an outfit Akari would probably kill for. He eyed her boots warily—he was pretty sure those were those ones she'd been bemoaning for this whole month.
"Yeah, that's me," He began with a bit of a flush, as Ryuu started chuckling under his breath. "Uh—I'm sorry, and you are?"
"Nase Asumi." The girl said with a bright smile.
"Oh, nice to meet you Nase-san," He fidgeted slightly with the bag slung across his shoulder. "But, uhm, where do I know you from again?"
She giggled a bit, and gave a little sweep of her eye to their surroundings, as if unsure if she should say what she wanted to with the present company. "I'm taking the pro exams with you this year."
Hikaru blinked, once, twice, and then—"Pro exams...the Go pro exams?! You? I mean—err, not like that, I just...a girl like you—I...I..." As he struggled for words, his blush deepened, and her smile grew wider and began to laugh again.
"Yeah, me." Nase smiled. "And I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and my friend Waya for a little bit. We're thinking of going to the go salon not to far from here to get some practice."
"Is that so?" Hikaru thought back. He had nothing better to do. And even though he had a paper due in World History, it wasn't like he was ever going to go very far in his education anyway, now that he was going to be a professional go player and all. "Sure I guess. Right now?"
She nodded.
"Should I change first?"
Another big smile. "You're fine the way you are!"
"Well...alright..." He wasn't sure what to say, especially to a pretty girl adamantly inviting him to tag along with her and her friend. What else was he supposed to do? He waved to Ryuu and Tsukasa, who were looking as if they wanted to crumble to the floor in laughter, sending him lewd messages with their fingers and thumbs up. He decided to ignore them completely.
Waya, he remembered a bit. They'd played the last time, with Hikaru was the winner. The boy seemed a bit miffed, but had let it slide with a, "next time, I'll win for sure!". While Hikaru didn't know how to take that, he smiled and shrugged it off—no way that was happening.
The salon was pretty fun too, the insei, while fun to play—along with the rest of the customers—weren't much of a challenge to Hikaru, but he stuck around anyway. He didn't mind if the game wasn't perfection, sometimes it was just fun to play because go was fun. It didn't always have to boil and simmer until his heart raced and his fingers heated like it did with him and Touya. And there was always something to learn from every game of go.
Or that's what he thought, at least.
"You should hang out with us more often!" Said Nase with a coy smile, as they had finished up their matches and ended the afternoon hanging out at a local ramen shop.
Hikaru grinned. "Sure, whenever I'm free. Between school, soccer, and the pro exams, its pretty slim."
Waya rubbed the back of his head, looking pretty embarrassed as he agreed. "Yeah, I didn't expect you to be so chill. Hanging out with a guy like Touya..."
"Eh?" Hikaru looked up. "What's wrong with Touya?"
Waya looked as if he had grievously insulted him, sputtering as he near leapt back in surprise and anger. "What's wrong with him?!" He near spat. "Everything! That guy acts like he's the best and knows it, all cocky and shit." Waya growled as he finished, looking away with a pair of hardset eyes. "I'll beat him one day, and make him stop and look behind."
Hikaru blinked for a couple moments, taking the information in. Touya had struck him as someone who had been inbred into go the way he had been into soccer. While there was passion, a lot of it had to do with what their parents wanted them to do as well. Sure, he was fairly certain that Touya would play go regardless, the reason he was always looking to play more challenging players, striving to be the best, was because he wanted to beat his father. He didn't seem to intentionally sound like a braggart, he simply was good and didn't deny it. Instead of arguing the point, Hikaru only shrugged and let Waya vent. The boy was probably beaten at some point by the younger Touya and had harbored intense loathing ever since.
And if he was being honest, Touya didn't strike him as someone… particularly sociable.
He was pleasant yes, and polite to a fault really, but he couldn't imagine Touya here now sprawled out in a greasy booth in the back of a noodle shop full of college kids from the university down the block. It just didn't seem like his style at all. He'd probably rather spend the time reading an interesting book or learning something new. Hikaru had come to appreciate that about him though—none of his other friends were like that, but that didn't mean it was a bad thing.
Hikaru watched the boy out of the corner of his eye, as he continued to rant to Nase, who only chuckled in amusement. While Hikaru wouldn't say he was a good judge of character, he knew that look in Waya's eye. He'd held it for Tachibana and Tsukasa, regardless of the competition for striker the three had been having since he'd gotten on this team; one he had for the other athletes playing at the elite tournaments—respect. Above all that talk, Waya knew that Touya was formidable, and that his go wouldn't be able to knock the boy a couple pegs.
/
"I can't," Hikaru said, apologetically as he wrestled his bag out from underneath his chair. Hell, he'd just gotten that thing over break and it was already downtrodden and scuffed up. He looked down at it mournfully, it was a really nice bag. SM paid for it all anyway—or rather, Nike did as their sponsor—but it was the principle of the thing. "I have a match today."
Touya furrowed his brows. "A match?"
Hikaru and Touya had spent most of the day whittling the hours in his father's Go salon—a regular occurrence these days. They'd taken to playing each other quite often. It seemed silly to wait for an official match or something, when they could just play right now.
It was nice, like this. But he knew it would be different when they met for real, more exhilarating, more exciting.
At any rate, he enjoyed playing Touya a lot—it was a highlight of his day. He was definitely improving, taking to studying each and every one of Hikaru's moves with tenacity and great introspection. Hikaru wasn't sure to make of it, but he was pretty sure Touya was starting to get annoyed with him when Hikaru couldn't really tell him why he played certain moves. There were only so many times he could say he 'just felt like it was a good idea' before the other boy would inevitable get frustrated and attempt to prod him for more information.
Unfortunately, Hikaru had none to give. It usually ended with either a sullen or angry Touya, but he couldn't help that. He knew Touya was boggled by him, but he also knew Touya was improving with or without Hikaru's advice. Touya would certainly get there, and Hikaru, even with his meager knowledge of the mechanics of go, knew that Touya had talent.
"Yeah." He answered without really paying attention, more interested as to why he was missing a shin guard.
Touya, if anything, became more confused at that. "A match? When? Against who?"
Hikaru looked up then, wondering suddenly why Touya was so interested. He certainly never was before. "Uh, I'm not very sure. Probably Karakura." And then, with a bit of a frown. "I hope it's not. We have a perfect record right now...I really wanted to keep it that way."
"Shindou...what are you talking about?" Touya began warily, blinking. "Is this a school tournament? You know that once you signed up for the pro exams you're no longer allowed to—
"Tournament?" Hikaru echoed. "What tournament?"
Touya paused in cleaning up the go stones, if possible, descended into a state far past simple confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Err—football. What are you talking about?"
Touya blinked. "Oh...I thought you were talking about go."
Hikaru stood in surprise for a moment, before chuckling. It was just like Touya to immediately assume he was speaking of Go. The boy had nothing but a love for the game.
"No, no, I figured it would be unfair to play in the school tournament now that I'm trying to be pro and all." A dreamy look cast onto his face, as he sighed. "I can't wait for the game. There's just a rush you get when you slide past a defender and the goalie comes out to cut the angle and then you pass him and shoot into a perfect, open goal..."
Touya cleaned up the rest of the board, Hikaru helping and cleaning black. "I wouldn't know." The go prodigy began. "I've never watched football, much less played it."
Hikaru closed the go ke lid calmly, before Touya's words sunk in. "What?! You've never been to a football game?!"
The young boy blinked, blushing. "No, never."
"How does this happen?!" Hikaru squawked, suddenly less interested in the fact he had thirty minutes to race across town and more strangled by the fact that Touya had never witnessed the beauty of an epic football game. He supposed in hindsight that he shouldn't be so surprised. The boy had been raised with go, go, and more go. And probably never held much interest for anything else. Touya didn't strike him as the athletic type, anyway. The same way he doubted he looked like the type of person to play go.
Touya didn't seem to have a legitimate answer, figuring Shindou was ranting more then he was looking for one.
"You have to go!" He began suddenly. "What are you doing today? You need to come!"
"Eh—" Touya wasn't prepared for Hikaru to suddenly grab his hand and drag him out of the salon, Ichikawa calling back to them. "W—Wait...where are we going?"
"To Haze." Hikaru smiled as he pulled him along past the crowded streets. "You're coming to my game!"
"What—why?"
Touya didn't get his answer, instead, Hikaru took a few nondescript turns through dark alleyways and ended up all the way in the school district, cutting through the parking lot and making their way to the field. Touya was a bit amazed at the turn up, there was a small mass of people on the bleachers, lounging in chairs, all loud and all talking. Very different from the wash of silence that accompanies Go matches, with the entire crowd awash in quiet, waiting for the next move.
Hikaru had somehow managed to pull over his number five jersey—what was up with this boy and the number five? How did he always manage to get that number?—and was slipping his cleats on, already having his socks and shin guards and had dropped the bag next to him, a book of kifu sticking out.
Akira picked it up gingerly, reading the cover—Shuusaku's greatest plays. Shindou sure did have an obsession with the man, and he wondered a bit why. Sure, Shuusaku was an amazing player; a classic, a master of the craft. And yes, even to this day it was considered a standard to be well versed in the man's kifu. But most of his playing style had gone out, and was hardly used in modern times. As he rifled through the book as Shindou tied his shoes, he mused that this would certainly explain the reason Hikaru was so fond of the Shuusaku diagonal.
"So why do you have this in your soccer bag?" Touya said conversationally, having grabbed it from between spare Gatorade and water.
Hikaru looked up sharply, fighting the instinctual urge to grab the book and stuff it into his bag before anyone could see. He looked around wildly. No one seemed to be noticing, and he sighed in relief. "It's a good luck charm, I guess." He began, a bit flustered. "My grandfather gave it to me a while ago, and I just sort of keep it in my bag. I've one every game with it in though, so it must be of some use."
Touya studied the spine of the book carefully, but looked both thoughtful and distracted.
"Did he teach you how to play go?"
Hikaru paused in the middle of tying up his cleats, caught off guard and wondering what to say. He bit his lip and looked away, suddenly unsure of how to answer the question. Lately, Touya had been asking those sort of questions, that he hadn't really thought about. When Yeongha had asked him why he was so skilled, he had answered as honestly as possible, with what little he could understand of himself. Now, to have such honesty would be to repeat his darkest secret.
"No, he didn't." Not a lie.
Touya tilted his head, dark hair falling perfectly from the side of his face. "Then who did?"
Why did he feel as if he taught himself?
No...that wasn't right. He didn't teach himself, he taught—
A flurry of images; warm, scintillating sunshine, soft patterned fabric, the silent, graceful shift of an unfolding fan, and the lovely tilt of a smile. A beautiful woman smiling at him, laughing coyly. Holding a Go stone in one hand and chiding him about something that had nothing to do with Go. How typical of the courtesan women; they were never all that interested in it to begin with. But the emperor had insisted and—
Hikaru reeled in shock. Wait a minute; Emperor? What on earth…?
Teaching.
He taught others. He was a teacher.
A go instructor.
Hikaru's breath hitched.
He was a go instructor.
The man in his dreams, the one who had drowned, with elegant, long silky dark hair and a chimerical voice, whose love of go was so deep that it was ingrained into his heart's every beat, who found the sound of the lute on an autumn day a euphonious sound to behold, eyes of the brightest blue like the curve of the sky behind a silvery cloud, long thin fingers that held go stones in practice ease, with the slightest curve of a smile on his face at every moment, with a childlike demeanor who was impressed with everything he saw—
That man was him.
Or, had been him.
After long moments of silence, Touya had figured he'd struck a nerve, anxiously tugging at the bottom of his knit shirt as he watched Hikaru's face contort in realization. "Sorry," He began quietly. "Did I say something?"
Hikaru seemed to reel out of his musings. "No, that was my fault." And, with a forced smile. "I was just thinking of something."
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to." He said softly, and inwardly, regardless of whether I want you to or not.
Hikaru shook his head. "No, it's not that. I just don't know what to tell you. No one really taught me. I mean, sure my grandfather showed me the board and taught me the very basics. But everything else I just sort of...new instinctively. Does that make sense?"
"No." He answered, quiet frank. "It doesn't." For someone to just know how to play on instinct was unheard of. There was talent, of course, but to be able to know how to make a perfect opening move without at least learning the names of the moves, or having the ability to form plays like Hikaru did without having anything to base them upon, simply impossible.
But then, Shindou was a very popular thirteen year old boy with a rowdy clique of equally rowdy popular boys and would be the last person he would look to in search of a genius go prodigy.
Hikaru sighed. "That's what Yeongha said too." But Touya didn't quite catch what he had muttered under his breath. "Well anyway, enjoy the game! Try not to get too bored, it shouldn't take too long."
And with that, he sped off past the spectator area, jogging up to his teammates who ruffled his hair and laughed loud enough that Touya could hear them from his spot on the other side of the field. He stood by himself, unsure of what to do. Around him, exuberant parents chattered with each other, and a couple teenage girls were cooing and giggling coyly at the boys on the player side. He saw some of the younger players who were waiting around too, and he figured they were the younger team waiting for their chance to play after the older guys.
One of them had unruly dark hair, and Touya had noticed him first when the boy was saying something about Shindou.
"You see his feint last game against Toshikana, when he did a flick header and assisted Tsukasa?" The boy was saying breathlessly. "Totally bad ass."
A boy next to him scowled, pushing up his glasses. "Yeah but Tsukasa was the one who got the goal—
"Like Shindou doesn't get goals." The other boy interrupted loudly.
"I'm just saying," the other one sniped back with emphasis, "he's not the greatest thing to ever happen to Haze football."
"He totally is." Another added, flatly.
"Yeah." Another agreed.
"You know he's alternate captain for SM's u-15 team? Can you believe that?"
Touya listened to it all with no small amount of incredulity—what on earth were they discussing? It wasn't making all that much sense to him, but he knew enough to realize that they only had high praise for Shindou, even the kids who were arguing against him. They all agreed unanimously that he was a talented player, and maybe the most talented on the team, but half of them were arguing that it was the team as a whole that contributed to the success of the Haze football team, or if it was Shindou alone.
Touya turned away from them as the game began, the midfielders lining up the centerline; he could see Shindou's familiar form lining up with other boys who were far taller than him, scuffing his feet and pushing and shoving with his teammates. They sobered up when the referee turned to them: he tossed the coin. It went to the other team.
The younger kids around them were grumbling at the decision.
As he listened a bit more, he realized that the way they spoke of soccer sounded a lot like the way Go was discussed. All this talk of plays and strategy, cutting off the offense and making quick defensive moves, he actually found himself able to understand and catch on to the game.
"Sousuke-kun!" A feminine voice called from the stands, and the boy some paces away from him was pulled over to the beautiful woman. "I've been looking for you! Are mom and dad here?"
The boy wedged a finger into his ear unceremoniously. "Naww, they don't think they need to. I'm only JV and stuff." He shrugged it off, but his sister cooed over him anyway.
"Touya-kun?"
Akira whirled around to the sound of the familiar voice, surprised when an equally familiar face flooded his view. "Ogata-sensei?"
At the older man's name, the young brunette seemed keen in interest, abandoning the young boy to walk over to them. "Who's this, Seiji-kun?" She began curiously.
Ogata skewered her a cross look, before sighing and looking away. "This is Touya Akira. He is my sensei's son."
"Sensei?" The comely woman repeated. "Ah! Touya-kun, do you play Go as well?"
When he nodded, she seemed floored.
"Kid's play that old man's game?" She pressed a hand to her mouth in shock. "Goodness!"
From the way the older blonde's face soured even more noticeably as the woman talked more, Touya figured whatever relationship they held was strained. And when she laughed at go, it seemed to continue to spiral downwards at an alarming rate. Not that he liked the woman very much. She was too much like every other woman he met, all touchy and up close, calling him adorable and smoothing out his hair. With one glance at Ogata he knew the man was going to dump her in a couple minutes.
They were all interrupted as the young boys started shouting and clamoring around the railing, cheering and yelling loudly. It was such a commotion he found himself curious as to what caused it; the answer made itself apparent soon enough. Haze had caused a turn over and the ensuing breakaway had everyone in the stands on their feet with the excitement. Even though he hadn't gotten up he could still make out Shindou's shock of blonde hair racing down the field.
He knew nothing about football, but he could see that Shindou was very good. And when the two-toned boy caught a pass from his teammate in midair and kicked the ball clean into the net, he could see why everyone made such a big fuss over him. His teammates toppled him over, as excited as the crowd.
He had never seen something quite like it.
"Akira-kun,"
He turned from the display of Shindou getting an indefinite amount of hair-ruffling, to see Ogata lighting a cigarette.
"Is that the boy you were talking about?"
"Huh?"
"The one who beat you, who's taking the pro exam this year." The 9-dan elaborated.
Touya nodded slowly. "Yes, that's him."
Nothing in Ogata's expression showed it, but their seemed to be a tone of shock in his voice. "I see."
"You seem surprised." Akira noted.
Ogata's eyes did not waver from Shindou, as he jogged back up to the field in chase of the ball, the other team racing to their goal to balance the score. "I hadn't thought that someone of his caliber would be competing in some..." And, with a look of disgust scouring his face. "Juvenile soccer tournament."
Juvenile wouldn't exactly be the word to assimilate to the game in front of them, Shindou rallying past the midfield line in pursuit of the ball, a flurry of quick footwork from one of the wings earning them possession.
"Go isn't all of his life." Said the young Touya, with sad eyes. "In fact, I think he barely even thinks of it."
Ogata frowned. A boy of his apparent prowess, not even all that interested in Go? Ogata would have been more annoyed with this, had the whole situation not seemed ironically familiar. He remembered another promising, talented Go player who cared little for the game, who had never had much interest in it until finally he'd been taken down a peg or two by someone a thousand times better than him. But Ogata hated thinking of himself as a child, so he dismissed the thought.
But, what a prodigy was doing here, attracting the attention of idiot pubescent boys like Ume's younger brother, messing around on the field when he should be studying for his exams, the 9-dan hadn't the slightest idea.
"He obviously doesn't think enough about Go as he should." Seiji commented offhandedly.
Akira bit his lip, unsure of what to say.
"I'm not very sure," He began quietly. "I can say that Shindou… likes the game."
He paused, forlorn but smiling all the same. "Maybe that's all that really matters."
Ogata's frown deepened. "What do you mean by that?"
Beside them, Ume and Sousuke seemed unaware of their deep conversation, cheering loudly for Haze as the score evened and the last minute or so of the first half ended. The people around them had begun chattering as the players moved back to the bleachers, Shindou near drowning himself in water, pouring it until his hair was limp and wet before shaking it out like a dog, damp strands of blonde sticking to his head.
The captain eyed the score warily, tied already in the first half. Usually, with him, Tachibana, and Shindou playing at their top game they'd be able to conquer the enemy team by the first half. But these guys weren't budging. Their defense was near impeccable, and their offense not too shabby either. Aside from Ryuu, the Haze defense wasn't as good as it should be, and the other team was making quick work of that fact.
"Shindou," He called, and the first year trotted over to where he was standing.
"What's up captain?" He tiled his head, running a hand through his wet hair. The air was a bit crisp around them, and he frowned a bit. The last thing he needed was for their star first year to get sick because he was hot and poured cold water over his head in the middle of fall.
"I need to switch your position for the second half..."
"So why does he play Go then?" Ogata pressed, intrigued. The two of them couldn't seem to make heads or tails of Shindou's motives.
Akira shrugged helplessly. "Because he likes it." He said, simply. Even to him the explanation sounded half-hearted at best.
A lot of people liked Go. A lot of people held a passing interest in it, a lot of people enjoyed a sunny afternoon in the shade, passing the time away with a game or two. It was a popular pastime in this country. But none of those people could hold a candle to Shindou. Hell, most of the professionals couldn't hold a candle to Shindou.
"But this does not explain his strength." Ogata noted. "Talent is one thing, but it is only half of the equation. Without hard work and dedication, talent is nothing."
Was it, though?
Akira had always thought so, but Shindou was quickly making him wonder just how truthful that statement really was.
Akira had explained everything about the boy up until this point. Shindou had appeared out of the blue one day, waltzing into the salon without the slightest idea of how to go about playing in a Go salon, much less playing Go in general. The young Touya had been kind, and played the boy, thinking he was in for a harsh game of shidou go. Instead, the young boy had ended up playing shidou go with him, playing from a level beyond that of a normal sixth grade boy, holding the stones like a beginner but playing like a pro. Akira had chased him down afterwards, Ichikawa remarking about how the boy had said he'd never played before. Shindou had ended up making some rude remark in his ignorance about dabbling around in the professional world and perhaps winning a title or two, which had infuriated the Go-driven Akira and had ended up with the young prodigy resigning not even twenty hands in.
Afterwards, the two had played in their school's Go club, with Hikaru once again succeeding over Akira's hard work. And the way Touya told the story, Shindou had apparently been so impressed with the other boy's intensity he had decided to find some for himself, and signed up for the pro exams.
Which lead them to the current point in time, with Touya and Shindou both on a winning streak through their exams, leading to their eventual clash with one continuing the perfection, and the other with a blemish on their records. Akira was fairly sure it was going to be him.
"Which is why I need to further my studies of Go." The prodigy began, determined, clenching his fist, as he watched his rival slide tackle the other's team's main offensive player, suddenly switched from forward to midfield anchor.
Ogata scratched his head. He knew Akira wasn't lying, the boy would never do that. But the tale made little sense regardless.
"There must be more to him than he lets on." He decided at length. "There's no way a kid like him can be this good at go without a reason."
Akira looked up, surprising the Juudan with a deep expression of alarm. "That might be so," he began, quickly. "But all the same, I'm just—happy he's playing."
He frowned, looking away. "I worry that if I press too hard into Shindou's motives, it will make him back off. And the last thing I want to do is somehow make Shindou lose interest in Go."
Ogata blinked in surprise. "You really think his interest is that flimsy?"
Akira was making it sound like a passing wind in the wrong direction would derail Shindou's Go career before it even began.
He shrugged helplessly. "Maybe. I'm afraid I don't really know."
But he wouldn't risk it anyway.
Shindou was a mystery, that was true. And he frustrated Akira to no end—everything about him was frustrating, even though the boy himself was amicable and pleasant. He had no reason to be so frustrated and annoyed with the other student; he was always so nice and friendly, and he treated Akira like a real friend, unlike every other kid Akira had ever met. Akira's talent in Go didn't frighten or deter Shindou in the slightest; his staunchly austere personality didn't annoy him; and his lack of interest in activities normal for people his age never seemed to bother Shindou one way or another.
He was a true friend, and yet, he still managed to make Akira deeply conflicted. He wanted Shindou to tell him everything; he wanted to know so he could convince Shindou that being a professional Go player was a good idea for him. Sure, Shindou was playing in the pro exams, but even still Akira could tell he wasn't as serious about it as he should be. He should be cramming and studying with the rest of the insei, practicing day in and day out and living in the Go institute. The only reason Akira wasn't doing that was because he'd been doing it his whole life. Instead, Shindou was out here sprinting and tackling his way into being MVP of the Haze football season.
"In about ten minutes or so, I believe." She checked her watch, before bending down to her little brother's height, said brother blushing in embarrassment as his friends cackled in laughter. "Then it's your turn, Sousuke-chan!"
"Onee-chan," The boy whined. "Don't do that!"
She rubbed her cheek against his. "Do what?"
"Agh!"
The ten minutes were over fairly quickly, Shindou doing spectacularly as a defensive midfielder, keeping the teams striker from making any further goals, and ended up with Haze winning by one goal, scored by the team's captain. Shindou was in the midst of the cloud of soccer players, congratulating his teammates. The captain grabbed his neck and ruffled his hair as the younger boy guffawed at the action, struggling out of the older boy's grip.
He made it over to Touya eventually hair more askew than usual, the blonde part still drying from its dousing during half time.
"So?" He began cheerily. "What did you think?"
Touya cracked him a smile. "It sure is a lot different then watching a Go match."
"I know right?" The boy hoisted up his duffel bag onto his shoulder, uncapping his water bottle and looking like he was ready to splash it over himself, regardless of the lack of summer heat, replaced by the crisping fall air. "Gosh, the exams are so quiet! I don't know how you can stand it sitting in silence for that long."
Touya looked like he was about to chuckle at Shindou's childish antics, before taking note of Ogata's curious gaze.
"Oh, this is Ogata 9-dan, he studies with my father. Ogata-sensei, this is Shindou, he's taking the pro exams with me."
"We've been acquainted before." Glowered the older pro, knowing that Shindou was probably thinking of the time that he had dragged the boy into the Meijin's salon to play his Sensei, the two toned boy ended up running out of there as fast as he could.
Hikaru nodded slowly. "Yeah, we've met."
Touya looked between them confusedly, unaware of the misting current that had electrified between them Ogata narrowing his eyes at the younger boy, and Shindou staring defiantly at the 9-dan.
"What rank are you again?"
"9-dan."
"So you're pretty good, eh?"
"Better than you, cheeky brat."
"We'll see about that, won't we?" There was fire in Shindou's eyes, one he usually didn't get unless at the prospect of playing Touya in a real match. The steely-eyed look saved for championship games and tournaments against the best Asia's elite football teams had to offer.
A challenge.
Hikaru's eyes lit, green morphing into the brightest of blues, so intense that it bespectacled his small stature, looking strange in the place of the friendly emeralds that used to be there.
Hikaru turned to Touya. "Hey, can we use your dad's salon?"
"Eh—?" The boy blinked in confusion. "For what?"
"We're playing a match." Hikaru motioned towards him and Ogata, Ume standing curiously in the backdrop with Sousuke too busy drooling with his idol standing right in front of him, Touya as confused as Ogata's subsequent girlfriend. But the two of them, Ogata and Shindou, seemed to be completely alright with this spur-of the moment game, stirred by some undercurrent that Touya didn't quite pick up. "Right now."
What does one to say to that?
"Okay." He answered lamely. "I'm sure Ichikawa wouldn't mind."