A/N: Thanks to everyone who Reviewed/Fav-ed the first chapter. It made me really happy that you liked it. And to everyone who put this fic on their Alert lists, thanks a lot and I'd be really grateful if you'd tell me what you think. This chapter is a bit shorter than the previous one, and pretty different in tone, imo. I had to change my writing style a bit for this chapter—maybe because Shindou's so wildly different from Yongha. The shorter length of the chapter is because this fic is going to be longer than I thought it would be, so it doesn't make sense to cram the whole story into five monstrous chapters anymore. Enjoy!

It is only when Serizawa nine-dan looks at him across the board for the first time—really looks at him-that Hikaru knows he has won. His deception has worked well, and he has gained a sizable territory from it. The older pro may not have known it consciously, but the moment he looked at Shindou with measuring, wary eyes, he recognized Shindou as an equal. So when the older man actually resigns, Shindou just bows his head and lightly strokes the worn folds of his fan with his index finger lightly and says, "Thank you for the game."

It is not unheard of for altercations to take place after important matches. Go pros are especially well known for exchanging barbs, indulging in mind games and generally sniffing for weaknesses before and after games; Shindou is, after all, ridiculously young to have beaten a nine-dan, so when Serizawa asks to speak to him outside the Room of Profound Darkness, Shindou is a little unsettled. Little thrills of game-lust are still racing up and down his body and Touya—and Isumi and Waya too, probably—are waiting for him in the discussion room, so he says quite clearly, "Sorry, I have friends waiting for me in the discussion room, sensei."

If Sai had been there, he would have probably cried tears of indignation and shame before going up to the other man—who wouldn't be able to see or hear him—and apologizing for Hikaru, but Sai isn't here and Shindou is tired after a three hour game, and, knowing Touya, still has a grueling couple of hours ahead of him, so he doesn't bother keeping himself in check.

Someone else in the room gives a little gasp of indignation and conversation briefly dips as everyone waits to see Serizawa nine-dan's reaction. He just smiles thin-lipped, with his mouth; his hawk-like eyes, though, are still sharp and appraising. "It won't even take a minute; this at least you can spare me," he says with a teasing tone to his voice; Shindou isn't fooled even a little, but vague ideas of treating the loser kindly nag at him, so he says—in a dull, colourless voice he has learnt to use to advantage—"I suppose."

Serizawa's smile is a slit across the expanse of his face, wider this time, and he gently but inexorable leads Shindou—who receives congratulations and exclamations of amazement with good grace- out of the room, and to an empty cul-de-sac whose walls contain only the door to a janitor's closet. For a moment, they just stand there, looking at each other; then, predictably, Shindou's ADD-ness comes into play and he scuffs his ratty sneakers a little moodily against the spotless floor and looks away.

He wishes he could go to the discussion room, where Touya will no doubt have an endless stream of criticisms about his gameplay—anyway, it wasn't his fault Serizawa hadn't fallen for his keima in the beginning, and it was sheer carelessness on the other pro's part that Shindou had been allowed to make that seeming-loss of territory into a seki—but he had won, and that was the important thing. He would have to make sure to not play stupidly with Kuwabara, of course; the Honinbou regularly-as he informed Shindou before, with relish-ate children like Shindou to go with his morning sake.

"I wanted to talk about that clever little net you snared me with," Serizawa says, his nostrils flaring white as he remembers how he was tricked. "When did you think of that possibility? Did you prepare it beforehand?"

"I don't plan games out," Shindou says scornfully, "I made it up when I saw your weakness in the upper right, that—"

"I remember very well," Serizawa interrupts, looking at Shindou; his gaze is a little different, but no less unsettling. He looks thoughtful, and a little incredulous, "Clearly," he adds, speaking to himself more than to Shindou, "I underestimated you. Yes, that was the cause of your victory. Obviously, skill had less of a part to play—my carelessness was the root of my weakness."

Shindou is indignant.

"That's cowardly!" Shindou exclaims, "Don't hide behind an excuse like that! Just admit that you lost to me. And anyway," he throws back as he walks away, "if you underestimate your opponent, it's insulting to the game. You deserve to lose."

He hurries away, face tight and burning with anger and humiliation; at the same time, a little voice in his mind is chiding him for his hypocrisy—how many times has he undervalued a weaker player? But this is different—he has never disdained another player to their face. Well, not knowingly, anyway. Unsettled, he walks carelessly and bumps right into Touya.

"Shindou—you—where've you been?" Touya asks, righteously incensed, "I've been looking for you! We have to discuss the game—and there are some journalists waiting to ambush you in the lobby."

"Oh God," Shindou said fearfully, cutting him off in an unceremonious way, "I have to take the fire escape again. Come on Touya, you want to be in that insane crowd of reporters?"

"You should meet with them! Obviously they want to talk to you—you'll be challenging Kuwabara-sensei next month for his title. Although, how you did it, I don't know; that keima—don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!—is possibly the worst move I've seen all week, and I've even had tutoring sessions…"

Touya continues to rant as the two of them go down the fire escape attached to the side of the hotel. It is an arduous task as the match was held on the eleventh floor; occasionally, Shindou breaks the monotony of Touya's tirade by weakly interjecting a defense.

"That was a really good move. It's not my fault youdidn't get it! If I had to explain myself to you every time I do something that awesome—"

"That move was the furthest from awesome-," here Touya actually draws quotation marks in the air, "-that I can think of! It was unskilled is what it was. Did you just randomly decide to give up three weeks of winning league matches because—I don't even know—did one of your Shonen Jump characters not get a power up or something? Because I can tell you that it would have been easier on all of us if you'd just committed ritual suicide, Shindou."

"Glad to see you're being so completely rational about all this. Ritual suicide, sure, I'll get right on that. What happened to Waya and Isumi anyway? Did they even watch my game?"

"Of course they watched your game," Touya says a little sniffily, "It was getting a little crowded in the discussion room so they decided to watch it back at their apartment. Ochi and a few of your insei friends are also there, I think."

This takes Shindou by surprise. Panting a little as they reach the second floor, he says, "Did you wait for me here, then?"

Touya scoffs. Or at least it could be one, but the effect is lost in the gasps for breath he makes every few seconds. Usually Touya's sneers are artful and precise; they somehow manage to convey the contempt Touya feels for the other person—usually Shindou—and how much better than them Touya is, all at once. Touya's sneers have a way of producing amusing reactions in other people—some wilt, some cower, some run away crying, but Shindou is special. He ignores them, using his special powers of obtuseness.

"Don't flatter yourself. I wasn't exactly invited to their apartment."

Touya's delivery is scathing, but there is something shockingly new in his tone, something vulnerable and a little sad. The conversation has taken a leap into unsettling territory for Shindou, and he glosses over that uncomfortable statement, cheerfully saying, "I wasn't either."

"Yeah," Touya says, relaxing a little. The sharp edge to the line of his mouth fades.

"Must be one hell of a party," Shindou muses. He is startled by Touya's quiet chuckle.

"Are you hungry?" Touya says in a conciliatory way. "We could go for ramen, if you want."

"Nah," Shindou says, yawning widely and stretching his arms, wincing as he feels something crack. "I think I'll go to bed. I've a morning lesson tomorrow…man, Korean verbs are killing me."

"I could just translate for you, if you want," Touya points out.

"Nah…you don't wanna translate the stuff I plan on telling that guy," Shindou says, smiling crookedly and shaking the hair out of his eyes. Seeing Touya's disapproving look, he adds hurriedly, "See you at the salon at around five, then?"

Touya nods after a moment.

"Goodnight, Shindou."

"'Night, Touya."

END OF PART 2

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