On the note of Japanese attires in my fanfiction, I had Hikaru wearing Yukatas in summer and in winter he wears Kimonos with Haori (coat) on top. When I mention Kimono I mean a thicker version of Yukata, the one piece dress, not the two pieces suit that have the top, the Hakamashita, tucking inside the bottom, the Hakama (Pants). Sai wears both kimonos and the Hakama set, depending on occasions. I found some info from online stores that the dress, yukata and male kimono, are everyday wears. Hikaru only wears his Hakama in this chapter but that was his costume design (formal). Anyway, I'm posting this update at three in the morning because I can't sleep on the ideas. And also, the next chapter should be the last of this Kyoto Arc, so stay tuned!

Thank you for all the favs, fols, reviews and added author. I hope to see you again soon!

p.s. I'm going to reply the reviews in the next chapter. And, oh, we may have a beta reader soon (I hope).

Vocab

Hakamashita = top piece of the two pieces kimono suit

Furoshiki = Japanese traditional wrapping cloth

Okaa/Onee -han = apprentices in geisha house call the owner as their mother and their senpais as their sisters even though they are not actually related.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikaru no Go.

Ahn Tae-seon blinked stupidly at the swarm of reporters outside the arrival gate. He looked around, trying to spot if there was any famous figure within his vicinity and his frown became more prominent when he found none. The Korean pro gingerly dragged his luggage towards the exit and he almost made it pass the group when one of the reporters suddenly pointed at him.

"That's him! That's Ahn Tae-seon! Quick get his photo!" The reporter bellowed and before the pro even came to his sense, he was immediately surrounded by the burst of camera flashes.

"What is-"

"How do you feel about having the Japanese top pro's attention?" The man on his right shoved a recorder in his face.

"Which top pro are you talking about?" Tae-seon shouted, trying to get a hand off his shoulder.

"Do you consider Fujiwara Sai your rival?"

"WHAT?" What was this woman thinking? He had just passed the pro exam about a month ago.

"Is it true that you went to Japan to secretly meet with him?" Seriously? What magazine was this guy come from?

He had his brother's effort to thank for as he made it out from the herd of hyenas with as little scratches as he had. Although, he didn't want to admit that the absence of the bulky laptop also contributed to the escape.

"How come we didn't hear from you at all? Mom bought you that laptop for a reason, you know?" His brother took a deep breath as they approached the parking lots and the Korean pro saw their mother enthusiastically waved at them from afar.

"Oh, erm...about that...I think we need to talk." He pressed his lips nervously. It didn't look like the string of bad luck had left him when he boarded the plane after all.

o0O0o

Hikaru discreetly yawned into his fist. His bluish grey Hakamashita kimono costume was so stiff and restrictive that it made him feel like he was a robot walking along the elaborately decorated procession. The fact that he went to pick up the laptop and tinkering with it until dawn did little at encouraging him to continue the walk under a heavy set of clothes. His eyes drooped downward as the heat from the sun intensified and his legs slightly fumbled as the parade slowly approached its final destination.

"You alright, Fujiwara?" The boy behind him came up to his side. He was another regular marcher like Hikaru because of his status as an heir to an antique shop that was in business for generations.

"Yes, I'm fine. It just gets a bit stuffy because these crowd keep flooding in from the sidewalks." He took a deep breath, hoping that an extra amount of fresh air in his lungs would keep him awake a little longer.

"Same as the years before, you can go tell them if you really need to rest though," the boy looked at him with concerned eyes but Hikaru knew that if he walked out from the parade before it officially finished, his grandparents would never let him hear the end of it.

"Thank you, but I'll try to stay until the end." He nodded politely as he dismissed his fellow marcher back to his position. The boy reluctantly walked away while keeping an eye out for him. One had to be unbelievably clueless to go against the heir of Fujiwara. The Kyoto residents knew perfectly well how influential the old family was in the city of the old capital. And in this parade where the heirs represented each of their family, it went without a doubt that the Fujiwara boy would permeate the air of absoluteness.

Hikaru sighed to himself. Giving in to exhaustion was equal to showing his weakness to others so it was never an option to a member of Fujiwara family whose priority was to always uphold the clan's legacy.

'Just think about the games we could play after this,' he gritted his teeth. 'I'll make it worth the all-nighter that I pulled last night. Just you wait, Torajirou.'

His mentor gave him a lopsided grin as he softly flicked the paddle fan in his hand towards his students, doing a decent job at fanning the sweaty young master with a phantom breeze.

'I know we can do this!' He cheered.

~o0O0o~

She didn't mean to slap him. She was angry with him, that was the truth, but the thought of offending him physically never crossed her mind. It was as if she wasn't herself when she landed the first hit on him. The sight of a girl clinging onto his arm and giggled away like a lunatic hag had an unexpected effect on her. Shibasaki Iroha clasped her hands over her heated face to hide herself from the rest of the world. It was a good thing that her Okiya had finished the preparation for the parades early in the month. Because she couldn't imagine herself facing him again if there were another delivery to be made.

"What's this? Don't tell me you're day dreamin' again?" A scornful voice called her out from her own worry. Shibasaki snapped her head to look behind. In the door way stood a couple of beautiful looking teenagers. Their skins were fair and their complexions were as smooth as porcelain wares even without the cakey layer of traditional makeups concealing the non-existing imperfection.

"Onee-hans, welcome back!" She blurted out nervously at the not too friendly look on one of the girls' face.

"Never mind that. You still haven't wash our laundry? Do you expect us to go out wearin' the same yukatas for the rest of the week or somethin'?"

"N-no! I'll go get 'em now." And Shibasaki ran pass them into the room that her two seniors shared, grabbing a basket full of clothes before stepping back out onto the washing area.

"Don't forget to take care of the dark navy blue one on the top as well. You will upset Okaa-han if it is not cleaned by this evenin'." The older girls snickered with contempt as they watched on at her frantic state before they disappeared into the bath together.

She threw the white clothes together into a washing bag before putting it in the machine, placing the navy blue one separately in a washing tub and left it to soak while she went inside to finish her other chores.

However, if Shibasaki wasn't in such a rush to leave the laundry behind, she would probably notice the dark color of the cloth began to leak into the water.

~o0O0o~

Akiyaba Michio was an average college student who possessed the common need to spend money on things that would entertain him whether it was fooling around in Karaokes, going to nightclubs with his friends, or even spoiling his materialistic girlfriend. However, the idea of selling his labour in exchange for money never appealed to him. He couldn't see himself blindly bowing to any potential customers or taking orders for people's burgers in McDonald's. So when his grandfather decided to turned him into an apprentice for the old Kimono shop, it went without saying that he was entirely against the idea.

"Why do you even bother? I'm not going to work here after I graduate anyway." He clicked his tongue at his grandfather.

"At least you'll have some connection. It will be easier to find a job if you have a recommendation to go with it."

"And what kind of connection would an old shop like this have?" Michio glared at the wooden exterior of the mansion and lifted a hand to knock on the gate, testing if the frame had worn down with age. To his surprise, it was sturdy and the surface was well polished

"Enough with your ungrateful attitude!" Kichirou barked at him. "Listen carefully, if you land yourself on his wrong side, you will never find yourself a job in this city. So follow me and get your act together."

Michio snorted but obediently complied to his grandfather. If all he needed to do was to get the man to like him, he certainly didn't mind sucking up to the man of influence.

He would do anything to guarantee an easier future, as long as it didn't involve a hard labour on his part.

~o0O0o~

"What are we goin' to do about this?" The aged woman sighed in defeat as she frowned at the formerly colored Hakamashita. The cloth in her hands was now ruined beyond repair. "Forget about the price we have to pay for it, how are we goin' to find another one in time for the parade? There is no shop in Kyoto that will have a spare set for rent at this time." She cried.

Shibasaki bit her lips at the distressed state of her Okaa-han. She turned to glared daggers at her seniors who pretended to sympathize with the old woman.

"I didn't know that she would wash it. It is my fault. I should have watched her closely." Her Onee-han sobbed.

"We honestly thought that she knew how to handle it since we already taught her last week. Really, Okaa-han, it is not our fault." Her other senior joined in needlessly.

Shibasaki felt a mental string snapped in her mind. It was true that they didn't tell her to wash it and it was her fault to interpret their command that way. But she was certain that these crafty people didn't teach her a thing about how to treat dyed clothes. How dare they to lie through their teeth in front of her.

"I'll find it!" She bellowed. The other ways of reasoning wouldn't get her out of trouble now. The only thing matter was how she would solve the problem at hand. "I'll get the costume in time for the parade."

"And what about the money? We only paid half of the rentin' fee for that ruined one and now we have to buy it at selling price. Where will you get the money to rent another? if you find one at all,"

"...I'll.." Shibasaki's head went blank. Her debt at the Okiya was already piling from all the years of living as an apprentice there. She couldn't even imagine clearing her debt and getting out of the house before the age of twenty five, except...

"Then you can do whatever you see fit." She hung her head low, trying to come to term with the depressing fact that this situation might end up causing her to sell her own freedom to become an heir to the Okiya and shattering her dream with her own hands.

Her dream of becoming a professional Go player and continue the hope that her grandfather could never reach.

~o0O0o~

Hikaru unpacked his clothes from his duffel bag. It had been such a pain trying to set up the NetGo program on this laptop. First with all the running around and trying to get a free internet connection which was successfully taken care of with the help of his best friend Yashiro, followed by the hours long of translating the English instruction on how to download and installing the program. It was a wonder how Hikaru managed not to pass out onto his bed the moment that he arrived back at the mansion to get a change of clothes and a permission to make the top floor of the shop his temporary sleeping quarter for easier travel during the summer. He had never been more grateful that the Fujiwara manor was situated quite far off from the more populated area.

Of course he wasn't so naive as to mention that he would be using the internet during his stay.

"Obocchama, I'm bringing in your futon." A young man in his twenties slid open the shoji door of Hikaru's temporary bedroom. He was the grandson of his grandfather's assistant Akiyaba Kichirou, who had been newly assigned there as a live in shopkeeper.

"Next time wait until I tell you to come in." Hikaru said a little too coldly as he tried to cover the laptop with his clothes. The man looked a bit offended at being told off by a grade schooler but he merely nodded stiffly before leaving Hikaru to himself.

"Whew! That was close! I sure don't want to know what he will be telling the old folks if he finds out about what we've been doing." Hikaru flopped down on his pile of yukatas in relief after seeing that the guy left his room without getting suspicious at his sudden jerk of hand a moment ago. "Well then, shall we get started?" He glanced knowingly to his side.

'OOTSUUU!' Torajirou yelled excitedly and immediately floated to the spot in front of the laptop. Hikaru grinned at his mentor's enthusiasm. Letting the deceased Go master wrecked a havoc on the internet was the least he could do to pay back for all the time that the ghost had spent improving his skills.

And he could learn more than a thing or two from watching his master's games anyway.

~o0O0o~

Waya Yoshitaka tossed his bag onto his bed and sunk into his chair in front of his computer. Today was a long and tiring day for the young insei. He started off his days going to the insei class in a good mood, only to receive a bad news that his friend, Kaga, would be quitting the insei class when falls arrived.

"But you finally got into the upper class!" Waya almost shouted at his friend in frustration.

"And what different does it make? As long as that brat is still around no one will take his place at the top!" Kaga yelled as he sent a dirty glare in their classroom's direction, earning himself a few stares from other teens.

"That's the only thing you care? Being at the top?" The messy brown hair insei furiously yanked on his friend's collar. "What happened to 'Go is fun' then? Were you just bullshitting us when you said that?"

A fist landed squarely on Waya's jaws, sending him soaring into the wall behind. A few girls screamed at the sight while some boys hurried in to stop the fight.

"What the hell do you know? You're not the one whom he said he'd lose the game for!" Kaga bellowed at him as other boys held him back from advancing.

"What?" Waya said weakly as he wobbled on his feet. Both of them ignored the people who began to gather around to witness the spectacle.

"The shithead said he would lose the game for my sake! Me! Waya! He said that to my face!" There was only pain in Kaga's eyes and not a trace of arrogance or pride in his usually smug face. Waya followed his friend's line of sight to the boy with a bop haircut. His eyes widened in the mix of anger and hatred as the boy stared back at them with his pallid face.

"Touya...you..." His face contorted into an ugly scowl.

The insei scoffed at the fresh memory he was reminiscing. "So much for turning pro together," he mumbled before turning to his computer. Maybe a good trashing on some unfortunate soul would ease his mind back to its normal state faster than sleeping it off. He scrolled down the name list, eyeing the names that would peak his interest and immediately spotted one new player with no rank, no experience, and no game records.

"Tora (Tiger)? What a name for a noob," he snorted as he moved his mouse over the name to send out a game invitation. His opponent took a while to accept his challenge and he had to rethink about playing the guy. "He seemed to have problems with computer as well. Am I playing some grey old Japanese man?" Waya rolled his eyes in annoyance as he clicked his black piece onto the virtual board.

If only he knew that it would turn out to be one of the most devastating games of his life...

~o0O0o~

"What the hell?" The teen insei grunted irritatingly at the game before him. His gaze fell onto the name 'Tora' before it turned into a glare. "What the hell is up with this guy?"

He knew his own skill, and most of the inseis' skills, that they were better than amateurs. Waya had no doubt about this claim, especially after he had been practicing hard for the up coming exam. His game reading skill wasn't as shabby as before he started forcing ties on his opponents. However, this guy could read the game deeper than him. Not only this 'Tora' had accurately seen through his plans, his responses were also prompt and aggressive as if he had thought of the same set of moves that Waya had prepared in mind. The messy brunette couldn't even form a proper territory, his shapes were shattered all around the board, and one of his cluster of stones was already in danger of dying.

"It's not even fifteen minutes in!" He mumbled as he stared at the screen. His stones on the sides of the board were all surrounded by white stones. If he as much as trying to escape from white's influence, those ivory stones would immediately spring into action. This Tora guy achieved all this with only a few threatening stones placing over his black outline. The game had barely passed into Chuban but Waya couldn't see himself gaining influence over any area at all. He could still try playing in the center. But what chance did he have without a supporting group coming from the sides.

"I'm...scared?" The teen insei looked down at his palms which had gotten so wet to the point that his mouse was smeared with his sweat. He gritted his teeth as his fingers began to move over the keyboard.

"Stop your fucking joke! I'm an insei. Who the fuck are you?"

~o0O0o~

'Told ya so,' the Edo Go master pursed his lips at the game on the screen. It was the right decision to make his student tested his opponent' strength before he decided if the game was exciting enough to draw him in. It was true that he wanted to play Go. But there would be no different than him playing the local amateurs if his mysterious opponents didn't provide such a vast different in skills. He would rather sit back and comment on the moves that Hikaru and his opponents made than to go out there and trash the amateurs who didn't even give him an ounce of challenge.

After all, a dead man had no need for fame or recognition.

Torajirou was well aware that his prime had passed since a hundred years ago. When he first came back to the world of the living, he wanted nothing more than to play as many games as he could. One could call that he was starving for Go. It got so bad to the point that he didn't even care about the quality of his opponents' skills, only the quantity that matter.

However, after the past years of trolling Kyoto's amateurs and playing with his only student, his appetite for the game had changed. Now that his crave was calmed and fed, he could see his purpose clearer than before.

To reach the Hand of God, he would need a worthy opponent.

Someone who could rival him in every aspect of his play, not just a challenge for him to overcome. And until such opponent appeared before him, Hikaru would have his priority.

Because his student was the only proof that he ever existed.

He had done many regrettable deeds in his lifetime. But only one grave mistake had been haunting him even in his death. He couldn't blame any one, especially 'him', for it was his decision to take a back seat and let 'him' take the wheel. Torajirou was grateful for the easy life he led. He had it all, be it fame, honour, glory, and even fortune. But they came together with a lifelong dilemma. He was living someone else's life. While it was him who stood under the spotlight, it was never his skill that was recognized by the people who admired him. Every praise he heard was a curse to his ears. He was actually thankful to the Gods that his death had arrived earlier than most of his peers.

Who would have thought that it was only the beginning.

He didn't expect that he would be contained within his own Goban where he had that fateful encounter with the haunting of his life. Maybe it was his punishment for acting in place of the true genius who only needed a living hand to place stones for him. And maybe the only way he could end his hundred years of misery, was to reach the Hand of God like 'that guy' had probably done.

"Torajirou! Oi! Tourajirou!" His student called him out of his stupor.

"What?" He grunted his reply even though he was thankful for a refreshing distraction.

"This guy just asked 'who are you?'" Hikaru pointed at the screen and Torajirou saw a name 'Zelda' glared back at him.

"What do you expect me to say? Tell him that I'm a ghost? Besides, I wasn't the one playing him." He chuckled at the seemingly frustrated opponent. That was my student for you.

The boy grumpily clicked off the chat window and continued with his unfinished match. But Torajirou didn't miss a glimpse of smile on his student's lips before it turned back into one straight line. A stone placer was a tormenting job to have,

and he would never put his only student in the same fate as him.

~o0O0o~

Kyoto in the month of July was notably hot and humid. But that wasn't the problem at hand for the young Shikomi. Her hands were trembling as if she was the only person living in the month of December and she also felt a chilling atmosphere that accompanied the approach of the second parade, the one procession that would conclude the end of the month long festival, the Hanagasa Bunko of Gion Matsuri.

It had been a few days ever since the washing incident but despite her best attempt at running around the town and finding a replace for the ruined dress, Shibasaki couldn't find any shop that would let her rent a costume with her current budget.

The young apprentice dropped herself onto a wooden bench outside the last kimono shop on her list. How irony it was that the one shop she swore not to step in was her very last hope at the moment. But she had to bare with the looming humiliation if she wanted to preserve her dream. She couldn't stand it if it only took one expensive Hakamashita to ruin her passion for her dream career. To think that her effort so far would be for naught...

She took a deep breath and readied herself for (probably) the most awkward moment of her life when a hand tapped lightly on her shoulders, startled Shibasaki out of her composed state. She snapped her face in the direction and came to meet with the last person on earth she wanted to see.

"Have you come to give me another smack? What have I done to deserve it this time?" The green eyes errand boy from Erizen asked her curtly. His attitude would normally ticked her off but today she found his sarcastic tone had stung her more than it intended and her rounded eyes began to well up with warm suppressed tears.

"WHAT? Why are you crying?" He flailed his arms in panic, a broomstick and a dustpan still wrapped in his hands. "Hey, wait, what did I do?" The boy lowered his tone as people began to stare at them. Shibasaki shook her head vigorously but didn't reply the boy's question as she hid her teary face behind her hands.

The boy stared at her for a moment longer before he pulled on her hand and led her to the narrow street at the back of the shop.

"I'm sorry I've ruined your shop's clothes." Shibasaki managed between her sob.

"So I've heard. But seriously, it's nothing to fret over. That Hakamashita wasn't really expensive to begin with." He frowned at her. "What will you do about the parade? Was it your dress that got ruined?"

Shibasaki paused her breath as another wave of depression washed over her mind. "About that...I think I will have to withdraw from my spot."

She didn't know what kind of expression the boy had on since she didn't have the courage to look him in his eyes. But after a pause and an audible sigh, the Erizen errand boy turned on his heels and prepared to go back inside the shop.

"Just wait here. I'll put these away and we can go look for something suitable for you to wear." He gestured at a broomstick and a dustpan in his hands. "Your Okiya would be in trouble with the organizers if you pull yourself out from the procession at the last minute. So don't give up just yet."

Shibasaki's face snapped back up at the boy's comforting tone. However, her face then turned gloom again at the thought of her limited budget.

"Erm, about the money..." Her eyes met with the his green ones and she saw them softened down as he glanced at her.

"Don't worry about it." Then he disappeared behind the door.

However, she wasn't expecting that they would have to sneak into the Fujiwara mansion for her costume.

"That guy! What was he thinkin', goin' in there alone? He could have asked me to watch out for him. If he got fired helpin' me, I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life!" Shibasaki kept on pacing back and forth in front of the back door of the manor. Should she listen to him and keep on waiting until he came back out? What if he was getting caught and was held up in there? This guy sure had a lot of nerve sneaking out a dress from his boss' house. It wouldn't end with just him losing his job if he was found out.

"That's it! I'm goin' in!" She pushed on the smaller gate and vigilantly crept into the traditional garden just outside the low veranda, gasping quietly at the well-kept plants and crystalline pond beneath the polished wooden bridge that curved over a narrow stream which connected to another pond on the other side of the building. Shibasaki's eyes glistened up at the sight of the brilliant koi carps swimming peacefully in a small group along the edge of the pond.

'Now's is not the time' she quickly shook her head at her irrelevant distraction and climbed onto the veranda, passing the room that looked to be a tea room and continued along the path with careful stealth.

It wasn't until the moment that she heard someone heading her way that she realized she was walking in a circle.

"That's weird, I thought I saw Obocchama walking around here just now." A female voice chimed up just behind the corner closest to Shibasaki and she felt her legs froze in place. The young Shikomi was too startled at what she should do next that she didn't notice a shoji door opened up behind her.

"Keep quiet," a voice whispered into her ears, her cheeks heated up under the hand that loosely covered her mouth. "Quick! This way!" The boy added.

They were tumbled on top of each other as the boy pulled her inside a small closet then closed the paper door just in time that the main door of the room suddenly slid opened.

"Now, where did I keep that Furoshiki?" Another voice chimed up as someone on the other side approached the closet. Shibasaki felt the boy's breath quickened as he seemed to recognize whose voice it belonged to and his weight shifted onto her body as he tried to pressed them further against the inner wall of the wardrobe. Her whole face lit up with embarrassment when her lips touched the base of his neck. They were so close together that she could register his scent better than the smell of the whole dusty closet.

Then their hearts stopped as the door slid open.

"Fujiwara-sama, is this the Furoshiki you were looking for?" A younger female voice called out from the doorway.

"Oh, my, this is the one! Where did you find it?" And the closet door slid shut, leaving the young occupants undiscovered.

They waited until the footsteps faded into silence and the only sound they heard was of their hearts beating.

"Didn't I tell you to wait outside?" He hissed at her.

"You were taking forever! I couldn't help worrying." She replied in a hushed whispered. "What if you get caught? They'll send you to police station for stealing a kimono."

"Stealing? I didn't steal anything. This is my house." He added. Shibasaki would have missed the playful grin on his lips if she wasn't looking at him with her eyes wide opened.

"You, on the other hand," his jade eyes connected with hers for a second before they lowered to her disheveled kimono's collar and his reddened face quickly snapped away to other direction. "are breaking and entering. And that's why I think we should leave now."

~o0O0o~

The second parade had finally ended without hitting a snag. The glamorous Hanagasa Bunko procession was the talk of the town for the days that followed. However, one particular family wasn't too happy with the appearance of one young Shikomi due to the attire she was wearing as she rode on a horse along side the other marchers.

A young master of Fujiwara family sat in silent as he studied the pattern of the tatami mat underneath his legs. Both of his grandparents were sitting across from him. Their faces smeared with stern expressions as they stared him down to submission.

"Were you the one who gave that kimono to her?" His grandmother asked through her tensed jaws.

"I only lent it to her. The ownership is still ours." He quipped back cheekily although his tone still remained polite and reserve. Hikaru didn't get to continue his subdue rebellious speech as his cheek had collided with the back of his grandfather's hand, sending him staggered to the side. He didn't let out a cry of pain nor reached up his hand to sooth the sting on his cheek since doing so would only aggravate the Fujiwara elders even more.

"How dare you...to make use of the family's heirloom as if it was always yours? You didn't even have our permission to take it out from this house!" His grandfather growled angrily. Hikaru was back sitting in a graceful Seiza as the bruise began to form at the corner of his lips.

"From now on until the end of your summer break, you are to behave yourself exactly what we told you to. If you put another toe out of line, we will pull you out from that little school club gathering you are so fond of. Is that understood?" His grandmother spoke up after a moment of tensed silent.

"I'll be mindful of your instructions, grandmother." Hikaru bowed his head to the elders as he waited to be dismissed. His wish had arrived in a form of a young resident employee after a few seconds of enduring the heated glares from his still raging grandparents.

"Pardon my interruption," a young man called out to the three Fujiwaras in the room without opening the door.

"You may leave." His grandfather said dismissively and Hikaru bowed to them one last time before leaving the room. Whatever business the elders had with the new employee wasn't his concern. As prideful as they were, they would never let an outsider witness a conflict within the family.

Even if that conflict involved their least favorite grandson.

'Time to stay low for a while,' Hikaru gingerly nursed his cheek as he strode away from the main gate of the mansion, the Go master trailing after him.

'Does that mean you'll quit playing with that blinking thingy?' The legendary ghost tried to glance away from his student. As much as he wanted to console the boy, he knew that no word would do the trick after letting him experiencing such abusive incident. If anything, the best way to go with this situation was to pretend that he didn't see it happened at all.

Or else he would risk trampling on the boy's pride more than his grandparents already did.

"Nope, we'll do just the exact opposite." The young master grinned brightly as if he was trying to forget the swell on the side of his face.

~o0O0o~

Akira let out a sigh as he pushed open the door of his father's study room. The insei class which had been a great place to meet with other children who had the same passion as him had recently turned into a gathering of gossipers. He didn't mean to sound arrogant when he offered to throw away the match with Kaga. Akira didn't even have the heart to try and win that game anyway, not when he witnessed Kaga's father violently demanded the victory from his son. But his intention didn't matter now. Most of his fellow inseis distanced themselves from him after the incident with Waya and Kaga while those closer to him were at least trying to keep conversations going whenever the opportunity arose. But he could tell that those were straining attempts and the polite talks he engaged were abrupt and awkward.

"Should I quit going there?" He slumped into the chair in front of the computer, his eyes stared onto the screen without really looking at it. It was such a perfect time that Ogata introduced him to internet Go because he could use some escape from the tense atmosphere around the insei class. Although the usual level of skills on NetGo wasn't enough to offer him a satisfying game, Akira knew that occasionally there would be professional players mixing in with the amateurs.

He was actually scanning for Ogata's handle when his eyes tripped on a large number of audiences who were watching an on-going match.

"Atsushi vs...Tora?" Akira frowned. He knew the first handle name was most likely belong to one of his father's students judging from the way he responded to his opponent's moves. But he had never seen this 'Tora' before. What surprised him more was how the guy had managed to completely overwhelm his father's student, Kitamoto Atsushi. The Japan's representative wasn't a weak amateur. Although he wasn't a pro like Ogata and Ashiwara but years of studying with his father made him into one formidable player to encounter. To see his shapes twisted and twirled into clusters all over the board was unimaginable.

"Is he a pro?" Akira glanced around the board. His eyes widened as he caught some familiar strategy in Tora's play.

"Fujiwara...san?" But the guy's last move forced him to rethink the possibility of his theory. The Fujiwara pro he knew wouldn't respond with that move. The pro would always make a clean cut whether in his attack or defense. This guy, however, seemed to prefer teasing his opponent with false mistakes and calculated traps, so much that Akira doubted if any one would notice when he actually made a true mistake.

But then again, was this guy capable of making a mistake at all?

The Meijin's heir creased his brows as he attempted to unravel the path of the traps without the help from the system (tracking moves). His frown became deeper as he realized that he was lost within that maze of stones.

"What is this?" He mumbled when he finally discovered the reason why there were so many people watching this particular game, now including him.

"Who in the world is this guy?"

~o0O0o~

Shibasaki looked up at the high blue sky above. She lifted up her paper umbrella and slid it over her head to hide in its shade. There were a couple more weeks until the new term arrived. She knew she was counting the day she could go back to school when the break started but that behavior gradually changed after she made up with the errand boy from Erizen.

On that note, she had to keep correcting herself for calling him anything but a young master.

She thought she almost had a heart attack when he came out and told her who he really was all this time. The look on his face when he was translating the fact that Shibasaki actually slapped some sense out of the young heir of Fujiwara family still made her coil in the mix of shame and embarrassment. But he didn't seem to hold a grudge and just laughed it off when she gave him a mortifying apology.

"Shibasaki!" A familiar voice called out to her and the Shikomi whirled around on her heels. A string on her Geta snapped from its hinge, rendering her keeling on the stone pavement of Gion district.

"I can't believe you are a Shikomi in training. How much strength do you have to put into that turn to make the string snaps like that?" The Fujiwara heir approached her, a teasing smile on his face. He bent down to grab her torn Geta but Shibasaki swatted his hand away.

"Wait, what are you doin'? People will talk!" She blushed.

"I'm only fixing your Geta. Now be a good girl and give that to me while you stand on mine." He crouched down to slid his black wooden Geta under her left foot but Shibasaki still wouldn't comply.

"You will get your sock dirty. I can always stand on one foot anyway."

But the young master didn't seem to hear her protest as he got down on his knees and guided her foot to rest on the front of his thigh, steadying the weight of her leg as he worked his magic on the thong.

"This way my sock won't get ruined and you don't risk falling over again."

Shibasaki felt her whole face lit up as she glanced around at the passers-by. She wanted to pushed him away for being oblivious to people' stares but she would probably attract more attention to both of them so she kept quiet.

"That reminds me, will you wait for me at Yasaka shrine after we finished tea ceremony class today?" He asked her without looking up.

"Will that girl be with you?" Shibasaki was careful not to let her tone take a bitter hint. But Fujiwara was already looking up at her with a knowing glint in his eyes.

"She will be with me during the class but it'll be only the two of us as usual in the evening." He brushed at her Geta, finishing his handy work. "There's nothing between us though," he added.

"Wha- why should I want to know if there's somethin' goin' on between you two?" She huffed while trying to school her face into passiveness. The young master tilted his head slightly to the side as he smiled at her.

"See you in class." He went ahead without looking back at her and Shibasaki couldn't help feeling a pang in her heart. As much as she wanted to walk next to him, she had to hold herself back since the rumor could start like a wildfire in this city. She wanted to be friends with him and acted like a normal friend where they could talk openly without worrying that someone they knew would spot them having a conversation. Maybe that was the reason why she was so jealous of his other friend, Hayakawa Ikuko, who could lash herself onto him whenever they met and not fearing the reproach that might followed.

It wasn't something new that Shibasaki hated her status as an apprentice in Geiko house. But it was the first time she felt so strongly against it.

"There is also nothin' between us." She mumbled sadly, the thought of an evening Go game at the shrine already floated to the front of her mind.

~o0O0o~

Akiyaba Michio hated his job. It might actually be more fitting to say that he hated to work in general but at the current time, he loathed the responsibility he was put in charge. It was unthinkable to have a college student trailing after a grade schooler just to keep an eye on whoever he hung out with. The boy himself was nothing more than a rich spoil brat who was lucky enough to be born into an influential family, yet, the snobbish brat dared to order him around when they worked together at the shop.

"I'll make you shut that mouth of yours one day." He grunted as he turned the corner. His eyes immediately fell onto the girl dressed in a yukata who had one foot stepping on the boy's thigh. Michio almost let out a gasp when her face turned to his direction but he managed to jump out of her line of sight just in time as the brat looked up.

"That was close." He peeked a glance from behind the corner, watching the whole interaction between the lovebirds as his lips stretched into an ugly grin.

The day that he would get to spit on the boy's face might actually come sooner than later.