Fic of Pretentiousness, aka The Fic Which Stole My -Life-
Title: Dulce Et Decorum Est Fandom: Hikaru no Go Characters: Akari, Sai Notes: My entry for the blind-go challenge Word Count: ~3,000 Rating: PG
Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro Fatum Mori
/ / I cannot believe that God plays dice with the universe / / ~ Albert Einstein
Rain streaming down her face, Akari shook her hair out of the way and glared, grumbling to herself, at the back of her best friend’s head. She didn’t know how it happened, but every time Hikaru came up with some strange idea, she always ended up dragged along in his wake. She’d almost dared to hope that, after their last escapade (which had involved trains, sliding doors, and looking very penitent in front of the station manager when commuters had complained) he’d finally found a bit of maturity.
The fact that they were currently dripping on the floor of his grandpa’s hall in the middle of a thunderstorm suggested that perhaps she’d hoped too soon. Verging on resigned, she followed Hikaru up a set of old wooden stairs to a dark, dusty attic.
“Hikaru, are you sure we should be here?” Rain was still pounding outside, muffled by the roof and the silence of the attic. Akari shivered; she was soaked through. And the attic was full of strange shapes….
“It’s fine.” His voice was bored, slightly contemptuous, “We probably won’t even find anything.”
“Well, then, turn on a light or something! It’s too dark in here.” It really was; she could barely see her hands in front of her face, let alone her feet.
“Che. Are you scared, Akari?” Hikaru joked, fumbling for a switch which hummed to life just in time for her to collapse with a muffled yelp half-in and half-out a large box. “Akari?!” He started towards her quickly, but slowed when movement showed she was fine. “Did you find something?”
“Yeah…. some kind of old wooden board,” she said, wriggling out and lifting the block with her, heaving against the weight. “Looks like connect-five.”
“Looks old. I could probably get quite a bit for it at some boring antiques shop,” Hikaru mused, eyeing it contemplatively.
“I still don’t think it’s right. This feels like stealing to me. Besides, you won’t get much for it with this stain on the corner.” Akari scratched at the dark splatters curiously with the corner of her jacket, but they had sunk too deeply into the wood to flake off. “I wonder how that got there.”
“Grandpa never comes up here; I don’t think he could even climb the stairs! And what stain?” Hikaru scoffed, “It looks fine to me.”
“That one!” Exasperated, Akari pointed at the brown marks distorting the grain of the wood across a good quarter of the board.
“There’s nothing there!”
“Yes there is!”
“No there isn’t!”
“Fine! You’re just blind then!” Huffing, Akari turned her back on Hikaru, focusing again on the cross-hatched wood.
“You… can see it?” The voice was hesitant, almost tremulous.
Annoyed, Akari replied “Of course I can! That’s what I keep saying!”
“You can hear me?!”
“Are you being deliberately stupid!” She swivelled on the floor, glaring fiercely at the confused look on Hikaru’s face.
“But, Akari. I haven’t said anything!” She opened her mouth, preparing to let loose about immature boys and their need for pranks, when –
“You really can hear me!”
She closed it again, firmly.
“Hikaru.”
“…yes?”
“You didn’t speak just then, did you?”
“No!”
She closed her eyes for good measure.
“I don’t like this.”
“I found someone, finally!”
“Hikaru, I don’t like this, it’s really creepy here! What’s happening?” She stood up, stumbling slightly, and started towards the stairs.
“Akari? Are you -”
The bulb flickered, fizzled and sparked into darkness as the invisible voice continued “- thank you, gods, for granting me this chance -” until the only source of light in the attic was a glowing, floating form clad in ancient robes.
Akari collapsed.
~ / / / ~
Taking a calming breath, Akari paused at the door to the Go salon. She’d done her research, asked around at the classes for somewhere safe and respectable, and this address had come up more than once. The place looked clean, it was in a good section of Tokyo, but she was still a little apprehensive – the word ‘salon’ brought to mind creepy old men sitting around smoking and talking in low voices about potentially criminal exploits.
However, at her side Sai was practically quivering with excitement, little phrases bursting out, like ‘Finally!’ It was a bit infectious. Giving herself a quick shake, Akari pushed open the door and walked towards the reception desk, a smile quirking at the corner of her lips.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you offer a discount for students?” Most places did, apparently, which was probably for the best as she didn’t think any reasonable allowance could possibly keep up with Sai’s appetite for Go.
“Yes, we do actually – it’s 500 yen to play, but if you’re here to watch there’s no charge,” the lady behind the counter answered. She was probably wondering whether anyone Akari’s age would really be able to play against anyone with the confidence (or just misplaced dedication) to patronise the Touya salon.
“That’s okay, I think I’d like to play,” Akari smiled, fumbling the right note out of her purse. Glancing around the neat room, she spotted several pairs playing or discussing over the wooden boards, as well as one boy studying a spread of stones by himself. Maybe it wasn’t her age that had prompted the lady’s odd look. “Excuse me, but do you think that I could ask that boy for a game?” She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her change. Truthfully, if it wasn’t for Sai’s insistence on ‘a decent game, Akari, please? Pleeeeeeease?’ she would never have dared come to a place like this. As it was, the thought of playing an adult was mildly terrifying.
“He’s very strong,” the lady behind the counter warned her, not unkindly, “But he has been sat there a while. Maybe he’ll give you a game of shidou-go, if you ask. His name is Touya Akira.”
“Thank you,” Akari said, bobbing a bow then turning to walk slowly towards the back of the salon.
“Excuse me, Touya-san?” He seemed very absorbed in the arrangement of stones on the board.
“Ooo, that’s a good game,” Sai commented, peering over her shoulders. “Title-level, at least.” Akari couldn’t reply, her attention on the boy in front of her.
He looked up, “Yes, may I help you?”
“I was wondering if I could ask for a game? The lady at the counter said you might be okay with a game of shidou-go.”
He smiled, “Of course. Please take a seat.” Looking down, he swiftly began clearing away the stones into the little pots, handing Akari the white one. “How many stones would you like?”
“If it’s alright, could we play evenly, so I can see where I place against you?” Akari didn’t think Sai would need any stones against this opponent, but it didn’t do to act arrogant. Besides, she wasn’t exactly the best judge of Go strength yet – Sai was light-years ahead of her, but maybe he could find a challenge in this strange, pale boy who seemed to spend his free time re-playing old games.
“That’s fine. Shall we start with you as black?”
Akari nodded, bowing briefly with an ‘onegaishimasu’ which Touya quietly returned. With Sai’s voice a whisper in her ear, she reached down and released her first stone onto the board.
Touya’s response was considered, but not hesitant, fingers confident on the white pebble. Sai’s command was swift, challenging, and caught their opponent’s attention. His next stone was strident, counterattacking, Sai’s commands weaving a path through his stones even as white bit into black. This battle was intricate, deep in ways that left Akari in awe of her own fingers’ product.
In awe, and in despair.
Outside of the 13-grid teaching board for the first time, she watched as her fingers placed stones that decimated life-and-death problems she couldn’t even see until the eyes formed, as strong as castle walls holding back a siege. She took five moves to appreciate just one of Sai’s stones, fingers plinking down onto the goban without any conscious attention at all as she struggled to keep up with this rapid-fire mastery.
I…. don’t understand.
Slowly, the thought was taking root in her mind, scraping away the flimsy veneer of confidence those few classes had given her. In front of her, her fingers placed stone after stone with mounting tension, each pa-chi narrowing her opponent’s eyes slightly further. The air was oppressive, thick with a silence woven more of intensity than lack of noise – but Akari’s eyes were glazed.
How could I ever have thought that I could play –
She fumbled, stone slipping in her fingers, and flinched at Sai’s scowl – “Akariii! I said 13-7, not 13-6, you’ll destroy the shape!”
What shape? The goban was a mess of black and white patches, sprawling incomprehensibly across the carved wooden grid. It might as well have been spelt in Cyrillic for all the knowledge she could pull from the tangles – but across the board, the boy’s face was open with shock and to her side, Sai’s fan was beating against his hand – like the fluttering of a trapped bird’s wing, she thought, irrationally. Hysterically.
With the finger still resting on the smooth stone, she pushed it into its correct place and closed her eyes.
~ / / / ~
The second time Akari plays Touya Akira, she crushes him utterly. And the third time, at the Junior Mixed tournament.
But it isn’t her.
Later, maybe, she’ll admire the way Sai guided the prodigy into ingenious shapes, like training a vine or a river-bed.
For now, though, with the ribbon of her victory trailing between her fingers, she looks into her mirror and wonders exactly how far this will continue.
~ / / / ~
“No, you don’t understand!” Standing over the kitchen table, Akari’s chair screeched in protest at its sudden displacement, “I can’t, won’t and will never quit Go!”
Fujisaki Kaida never raised her voice, but with eyes like ice she seldom needed to. “I am not insisting you quit Go. I would never do that. I am, however, stating that you will never set foot in that – ‘establishment,’ or any other like it ever again. This is not open for discussion. Now sit down and we shall think about alternatives, or storm away to your bedroom to sulk and you shall stay there for a month.”
Akari sat back down, fuming, and her mother glared over the top of her glasses. Akari sighed and started counting her breaths.
“That’s better. Keep that melodrama for your school-friends. If you had stopped and listened to me first, then there would have been no need for this,” Kaida said, chiding, and slid a pen and a form across the tabletop. “Sign this. If you pass the entrance exam – which I understand is challenging – then you will be free to attend insei classes with others your own age.” Seeing her daughter’s face lighten, she continued, “However, this deal is dependant on class ranking and punctuality – fall too far or stay out late and your Go is over. Understood?”
“I understand,” Akari said, ducking her head briefly.
By her side, Sai was dancing in victory.
~ / / / ~
Akari knelt.
Hands folded and eyes cast demurely downwards, she was oblivious to the whispers around her, fellow insei as speculative as only teenagers can be.
Gossip is never harmless, though, especially when the current of words is rippled with fear. Her Go is brilliant, they say, hands flicking and their admiration tinged with unspoken disbelief. This girl is not natural – it’s written in their faces for anyone to see, and seeing is all Akari does, these days. Her passions have faded, a lively soul subsumed into a passive watcher, one who analyzes rather than interacts.
Her mother is worried – Akari feels guilty for scaring her, just enough to pretend anywhere she might hear of any antisocial behaviour. School could have been a relief from the unforgiving world of Go, where emotions have no place on a board governed by black and white.
It’s not.
Akari has never enjoyed lying.
~ / / / ~
Sometimes, Akari wonders if she is insane - if Sai is a figment of her imagination, a hallucination, a split personality of some kind.
Maybe she’s really locked away in a ward somewhere, visited occasionally by relatives but never mentioned at dinner parties.
She’ll never admit it, not even to herself, but sometimes Akari does more than just wonder. Sometimes she hopes.
~ / / / ~
Hikaru’s eyes were sad.
“Akari. I’m really glad you could meet me here – you’ve been so busy lately! It’s been hard….” He trailed off, twirling the noodles in his bowl with a chopstick.
Akari laughed, brightly. “I know, I’m sorry! It was just the exams; I won’t be nearly as tied up now I’ve passed.”
“Akari.” It was quiet, as unlike her usually brash friend as anything she’d ever heard. “Do you really think I can’t tell when you’re pretending?”
She laughed again, eyes curved upwards desperately. “Don’t be silly! Why would I be pretending? Not to brag, but I just passed the professional Go exams without a single loss – why wouldn’t I be happy?”
Hikaru glared at her momentarily from under his bleached bangs. “Just because some people are almost on a wage.…” he growled, jokingly, “But seriously. Akari. Why Go? You’ve never.…” He broke off, looking downwards.
She shifted slightly in her seat, smile as prominent as ever. “I don’t know. It’s something I’m good at, I guess.”
Pushing aside his bowl, Hikaru leant forwards, his voice pitched low but intense, “You guess? Akari, don’t you see? If you can tell me right now, honest truth, that this is making you happy, this is what you want to do with your life, then fine. I’ll leave you be. But I know you, and it isn’t. I didn’t know what I’d see today, but I know I didn’t expect this!” Akari smoothed her professional-looking jacket, eyes flickering. “What happened to the girl who used to joke around with me, who wanted to study and become a doctor or a lawyer, go to university? Akari, you laugh like that, and you smile, but to me you look like you’re hiding inside your own eyes.” Spent, Hikaru shifted back in his chair, one hand clenched beneath his chin.
Again, Akari laughed – but this was a weary sound, one stripped of joy. Exposed. “You think I’ve changed? Maybe I have. Maybe I’ve learnt that there are things more important than happiness, more precious than laughter. Maybe I’ve grown up.” Her voice was harsh as she stood and pushed in the chair, slipping several notes under her untouched bowl.
“Akari, wait!” Hikaru tried, pausing her at the door to the street. “Why not just quit?”
“I can’t. You don’t understand.” She smiled ruefully, bittersweet. “How could I deprive them of his skill?” Waving once, Akari let the door swing closed behind her as she vanished into the Tokyo crowd.
~ / / / ~
Whispers were spreading down the corridors of the Go institute as Akari stepped out of the lift.
She ignored them – after several years, the gossip surrounding her should have settled, but it seemed that Go players couldn't discuss recent kifu without also discussing the players involved. With a trail of pro games winding through most of the major preliminaries, some of the tales she’d heard were stranger than the bizarre truth behind her skill. It didn’t matter – Sai was particularly excited about the game today, oddly so for a dan match.
It was the player, not the situation, that had caught his attention. Touya Akira. The boy who had given Sai his first good game in this incarnation – and it had been a good game, better than many she’d placed since.
The opening moves had been a little weak, it was true, but Touya-san had expected an opponent not far below the 20-kyu ratings, if that. His attacks had been nearly flawless, elegant and completely without excess, and he had layered several nasty traps into his stones, but in the end Sai’s experience had drawn a resignation shortly before yose.
Shifting her bag on her shoulder, Akari walked towards the board to check her place. The few pros present were huddled near the wall, buzzing softly until they heard her footfall and fell silent.
Slightly suspicious, she scanned the papers for her name, finding it quickly and checking the number.
She blinked, and looked again.
Fujisaki Akari v. Touya Akira: Goban 2 Win by Forfeit
~ / / / ~
“Akari?”
Sai was hovering, his drooping sleeves perfectly still in the autumn wind.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you, honest, I didn’t.”
There were leaves skittering across the pavement, chasing each other around lampposts and the feet of pedestrians. They couldn’t touch Sai – nothing could, any more.
“I’ll – let you play the next game?” He was obviously reluctant, biting back immediately with “But you have to promise to let me take over if anything happens, Ogata-san is a worthy opponent and we’re so close to Honinbou now, one mistake could be -”
People were gathering, muttering and clustering around. Sai didn’t move, ignoring the commotion. Only one person mattered to him, outside of the goban.
“No. That’s not fair, is it? There’s no fun in a game that isn’t yours alone.” He sighed, “I promise, Akari. The next game is yours. No matter what.”
Someone had a mobile phone in their hand, dialling furiously. A man stepped out of his car, gesticulating and panicked. Sai was oblivious.
“Just, Akari?” He moved, finally, crouching to the curb. There was still a gap between his sandaled feet and the sticky road-surface. “Akari, why won’t you get up?”