Aishuu Offers:
Brightly Burning
mbsilvana@yahoo.com
~ A Hikaru no Go Alternate Universe ~
Disclaimers: Hotta and Obata. Shonen Jump. Not Mine.
Note: Thanks to Jander for his patience, and Ami for
the beta! Also thanks to everyone who reviewed - they
kept this moving, honestly.
Earlier parts available:
http://www.fanfiction.net/~aishuu

**********
Chapter Three: Heaven on Their Minds
**********

Mashiba looked over at the insei who had taken the
seat across from him, trying to hide his nerves. Last
year he had been humiliated by Isumi, his rival, and
this year he was determined to avenge that loss �
which meant defeating the insei to play Isumi in the
next round. However, he�d unfortunately been matched
against the top-ranked insei, and Mashiba was a bit
uneasy. Every year a few of the insei won the first
round, and he knew that Shindou Hikaru might be
skilled enough to pull it off.

Mashiba recognized he wasn't one of the more gifted
pros. He had just managed to earn his 2-dan ranking,
and most of the games he won were more through luck
than pure skill. He had talent, of course, but he
didn't shine the way Isumi did.

God, he hated Isumi.

Still, the insei who sat across from him had to be
dealt with first, and he had, of course, heard that
the top insei hadn't been defeated in months. "You're
Shindou?" he asked. He cupped his hands around the
basket holding the white stones. The only advantage
given to insei was that the games were even, and they
were given black.

"Yes," the other said, shifting in his seat. 

"Have you ever played in a formal tournament?" Mashiba
asked politely.

"No," the other answered. He was studying the goban,
rather than Mashiba's face, and that irritated the
pro.

"Well, don't let me intimidate you. I was an insei
until two years ago, and just because you have no
experience doesn't mean you shouldn't play your best."
Mashiba smiled in mock consolation. 

"You won't," Shindou replied, and finally looked up.  

Mashiba shuddered inside. /Those eyes remind me of
someone.../

He shook himself from his trance, trying not to give
into the feeling that Shindou was in complete control
of the game before it had even begun.

"Begin!" The announcer called, and the buzzer sounded.

Mashiba started the timer to begin the game, and
Shindou placed the first stone firmly next to the
upper right hoshi. The board rung with his surety, and
Mashiba responded by taking the upper left star, his
fingers moving awkwardly instead of the usual grace of
a pro. 

/Calm down,/ he told himself. /You�re the pro, he�s
the insei!/  

Shindou quickly took the lower left star, barely
taking five seconds before hitting his clock. Mashiba
forced himself to take a calming breath, then played
below the lower right hoshi, drawing the lines.

/Pachi!/ Shindou wasn�t even concerned, playing in the
upper right again.

/Pachi!/ Mashiba invaded the right.

/Pachi!/ Shindou made a move next to the lower left
star.

/Pachi! Pachi! Pachi!! /

Mashiba felt sweat form on his brow as battles began
to spread across the board. A particularly fierce
battle in the upper right cost him a stone, but that
was acceptable; the game was about territory, not
pieces.

Something about this game was familiar - not in the
game itself, but how it was played. There was an
intensity, as though each move had the weight of the
world behind it, and Shindou was reading more deeply
than Mashiba could ever hope to. Nervously, Mashiba
looked at Shindou�s face for the first time since the
game started, and suddenly he realized exactly who the
insei reminded him of. 

Shindou�s face was intent on the game, slivers of a
brilliant green eyes from under dark lashes. His hands
moved gracefully to lay a stone that seemed wasted,
but as Shindou confidently left it on the 3-8 spot,
Mashiba knew Shindou was the one driving the game. He
was unaware of anything except the world created on
the goban, and Mashiba knew who Shindou felt like.

/Kuwabara Honinbou..../

That same intensity, that same level of mastery as the
highest ranking pro Mashiba had ever played � and the
same assurance that the win was going to belong to
him.

/No!/  Mashiba�s mind screamed, trying to keep from
being overwhelmed by that ridiculous thought, but it
was too late. Mashiba had intended on intimidating his
opponent and forcing him to resign or mess up, but it
was the opposite that had happened.

He lost very badly, unable to think of anything except
getting the hell away from the kid. 

****

There was something about watching Touya Akira play
that was eerily reminiscent of his father... yet at
the same time, no one would dare call the boy a
�copy.� It was the intensity, Amano had realized after
watching Akira play for the fifth time. Father and son
played with the same drive, the same surety. Both were
utterly ruthless. 

Perhaps that was why Touya Akira rarely played a
Agood� game of Go. Amano was still amazed at the boy�s
prowess, and knew that as soon as he managed to
complete his preliminaries, he would be fighting the
top-ranked pros... and win. Touya Akira would outshine
his father, someday. But there was an emptiness in the
boy�s game, and the shapes he won with were rarely
pleasing. Seeing Akira totally destroy his opponent�s
forms was impressive, but to Amano, a good Go game
wasn�t about dominance, but a meeting of minds. Akira
always left those who played him hating him, and that
wasn�t what Go was supposed to be about. No one
respected Akira � they feared him. 

Across from him was Fuku Yuuta, who had been an insei
for two years now. Fuku�s moves came rapidly, one
after another, as he played more on instinct than
design.  Touya, though, was completely unperturbed by
the rapid play, playing at a calm, steady pace. Fuku
was a good player, and getting better, but Amano knew
that the normally cheerful boy was completely
outclassed. 

Amano winced as Akira lay a move which effectively
split Fuku�s territory in half. It was too painful to
watch. He turned away, knowing the inevitable outcome
without having to witness it. 

�Did you know that Kuwabara Honibou was my sensei?� a
voice said from his shoulder. Amano tried not to jump
out of his skin. It was Shinoda, again, moving like a
shadow.

�I didn�t know..� he said, wondering where Shinoda was
leading. Shinoda always had a point to whatever he
said, but figuring out his meaning was usually like
trying to open a puzzle box.

�One of his favorite things to tell me was, �Go is a
two player game.�� Shinoda looked over to where Akira
was playing, watching him with a sad expression. �It�s
made me think a lot, as I train the insei. 

�What happens when you don�t have another player who
can match you? Some of them aren�t as good as others,
but all have their strengths and weaknesses. Fuku
consistently beats Waya, who is one of the top
students, because Waya doesn�t like speed Go. Their
games are fun to watch, because Waya is always trying
to finally take that win, and Fuku takes strength in
knowing he can play up to the level of someone who
will likely pass the pro exams this year.�

�I was thinking about that myself,� Amano admitted.
�Touya Akira... there�s no one there for him.�

�It makes you wonder if he�ll burn out.� Shinoda�s
words hung in the air between them, and Amano lowered
his head. It was something that had been preying on
his mind, an idea that he hadn�t wanted to consider. 

�Those who burn brightest... burn half as long,� Amano
said softly. �There�s no fuel to feed him, nothing to
keep him going. How interesting can it be, to always
play games you know you�re going to win?�

There was a quiet murmur from Fuku as he bowed his
head in resignation. Akira accepted gracefully, and
they began to clear the goban together. Fuku didn�t
appear to be at all upset, merely accepting of his
circumstances. He had gone into the game knowing that
he was going to lose. The crowd around them broke up,
many murmuring words of admiration for Akira�s
brilliance, and the insei spoke of the relief that
they hadn�t been the ones matched against him. When
the board was cleared, Fuku rose to his feet and went
over to a group of insei.

Akira was left alone at the goban, his expression
carefully blank. He folded his hands into his lap, and
sat with an uncanny stillness, waiting for the next
game.

Isolated from the crowd. 

Shinoda sighed as he watched. �Fire warms, but it
consumes as well. His passion and love for the game
entices, but it keeps people from getting too close.�

�How long can fire exist without fuel to sustain it?�
Amano wondered.

Shinoda gave him a slight smile. �Fire warms, Amano. I
hope that Akira...� he trailed off, glancing over at a
crowd of insei Fuku had just joined.  

�Who�s over there?� Amano demanded. This was the
second time that Shinoda had hinted at an
extraordinary insei, and if he meant to imply that
there could be someone who could challenge Akira, then
Amano wanted to know. 

Inside of him, he felt hope for the future of the Go
world take root.  

/If there was a person who was able to play Touya
Akira as an equal, maybe the Hand of God could be
achieved./ His hands went to his mustache, stroking it
thoughtfully as he realized the possible implications
of Touya Akira having an equal.

Shinoda gave him another cryptic smile and started to
move away. �Someone who may just be that fuel - if
Akira can thaw the ice that surrounds that person.�


***

Isumi Shuichirou was the ideal of the Go world. He
played well, respected his elders, and seemed to have
his feet set on the course to becoming one of the top
players in about thirty years. 

Isumi thought that that was acceptable. He loved the
game, and he knew that if he worked steadily,
eventually his Go would improve enough to let him aim
for the top. He was confident in his game.

Still, when Waya pulled him aside before the second
match, he had slight misgivings. They had lost touch
when Isumi had passed the pro exams, edging Waya out
for the third spot. Sometimes he wondered if Waya
resented him. They had only seen each other a handful
of times in the last year, and it had been two months
since they had really talked. � it made Isumi sad,
especially considering how close they had been as
insei.

�Isumi... don�t underestimate Shindou,� Waya warned.
Cat-like eyes regarded him from under brown hair that
was still worn too long, but the face was more mature
than Isumi remembered, and something about the gravity
of Waya�s voice said that the insei was trying to say
something important without saying too much.

Isumi blinked at his friend curiously. He had been
expecting to play Mashiba, and been studying kifu to
prepare for a rematch. Mashiba�s hatred of him made
his life interesting, and he was surprised the pro had
lost to an insei. He hadn�t really considered the
possibility of playing Shindou, though he should have.


�He beat Mashiba - of course I�m not going to
underestimate him,� Isumi said, offering what he hoped
was a gentle smile. Speaking to Waya felt awkward; he
had been practically ignoring his friend since
becoming a pro, and now Waya�s hand on his arm felt
unfamiliar, instead of the reassuring presence it had
once been.

Waya shook his head, and Isumi recognized the look on
his face � the one he only wore when discussing Go or
something that really mattered to him. �No... Isumi,
Shindou is... Shindou plays shidou-go with me.�

Isumi�s blood turned into ice at that thought.
Shidou-go... where a more skilled player taught
another... and to play against /Waya/, whom Isumi had
barely defeated for the last pro position...  

�I�ll keep my guard up,� Isumi said after a moment,
forcing himself to speak through the haze of shock.

Waya gave him an uncertain smile. �You�ll see,� he
said softly. �Play your best.� His hand slipped off
Isumi�s sleeve as he left to find his own seat. Isumi
watched his friend for a moment, still feeling the
phantom touch of a boy who had once been his closest
friend..

/Times change, Shuichirou,/ he thought to himself. /We
leave behind those who cannot walk the same path as
us, and if we�re lucky, someday we�ll meet again./

The thought didn�t do much to allay his guilty
conscience.

He shook it off, telling himself the best thing he
could do was take Waya�s advice seriously. He went
over to his seat and he settled himself into his seat
before searching out Shindou Hikaru.

The boy was talking to a group of his fellow insei,
smiling as they teased him. The blonde bangs stood
out, and he was waving his hands defensively,
obviously on the receiving side of some advice from
Nase, who was waving a finger in his face.

/I was one of them last year,/ Isumi thought,
wondering why it seemed like so long ago. The pro
world didn�t foster the kind of friendships he had
enjoyed among the insei, and it was harder for the
introverted Isumi to socialize. He leaned forward on
his elbows, watching them a bit wistfully. He knew
most of them, but the distance between them seemed too
great to overcome easily. 

But the Go in the pro world...

He smiled a bit at the thought of the games he had
already played. His own Go had improved immensely -
surely Shindou couldn�t be that scary. Maybe Waya just
wasn�t used to dealing with someone who was truly
talented...

He drew himself up short, not letting himself fall
into that trap of overconfidence. Waya played at
Morishita�s study group, Isumi chided himself. Of
course he knew what good players were like - Shindou
had to be something special if Waya felt the need to
warn him.

He shivered as Shindou came over to him. Shindou
resembled a jock more than a Go player, but Isumi had
seen some excellent Go players who didn�t even look
like they knew how to spell their names.

�Hello,� Isumi said. �You�re Shindou-kun, right?�

Shindou nodded his head quickly, a jerky motion that
more do to with impatience than nervousness. �You�re
Isumi-san. Waya talks about you sometimes.�

�We spent a lot of time together as insei,� Isumi
said.

�He�s a very good friend,� Hikaru said, and though
Isumi knew the insei intended nothing cruel by it, he
felt a bit guilty for abandoning Waya after entering
the pro leagues.

Concentrate, he scolded himself. �He is,� Isumi said
quietly. He touched the stones in his go ke, letting
their cool texture sooth him and bring his mind back
on track. Shindou didn�t seem annoyed at Isumi�s
distracted response; instead, he took a deep breath
and sat with unnatural stillness as they waited for
the next game to be announced.

It was strange, because most people fidgeted or
twitched or wanted conversation, but Isumi found
Shindou�s stillness strangely appealing.

�Begin!�

Shindou only took a few seconds to consider before
placing a move on the upper left hoshi, to which Isumi
replied by taking the lower right star. Shindou
obviously had studied his fuseki well, because he
moved on to take the third star on the left, leaving
Isumi to complete the parallel fuseki by claiming the
last star.

It was simple, too simple, as though it had come
directly from kifu, but Isumi knew not to
underestimate Shindou. /He beat Mashiba, and Waya
warned me about him,/ he thought. /There�s relatively
few tried and true openings - just because he chose a
bland one doesn�t mean anything./

Shindou was playing his next move, classical and not
at all challenging, and Isumi found himself responding
in kind. This was like answering tsumego his sensei
set forth - the ideal practice problems that rarely
worked itself out. 

Shindou�s next hand came swiftly, and Isumi easily
slid into a quickly-placed game. With only forty-five
minutes of time on the clock of each of them, they
didn�t have time to ponder the depth of the moves,
something Isumi was regretting. Something about
Shindou�s style pulled at Isumi�s mind, reminding him
of a well-traveled path. There was a sense of
familiarity to it, like embracing a half-forgotten
memory...

Then Shindou played his next move, causing Isumi to
hesitate.

Nobi?

What?

He blinked, staring at the board, trying to figure out
what the hell was happening.

The nobi Shindou had just played in response to his
last hand was a good move, but it wasn�t the standard
attack. He had been expecting a hane, and had they
been playing shidou-go, he would have used the move
later to explain that it was outdated.

Yes... Shindou�s joseki were old. 

Isumi studied it for a moment before laying his
counter, knowing that Shindou had lost. Apparently the
boy spent too much time studying old kifu and not
enough time learning about the modern methods that
most players deemed superior.

Why was Waya so scared of him? Isumi wondered, keeping
his eye on the game. It was true that Shindou seemed
to have all the moves down solidly, but...

Then Shindou went to the center.

Isumi blinked again, and he could feel the seconds
ticking as he stared 

Shindou still hadn�t secured his sides, but was
leaping into a battle for the center, something which
Isumi immediately recognized. It was a daring move,
after so many traditional plays, and Isumi was a bit
shocked. How often had he been told, �Corners, then
sides, then center?�

Did Shindou think he could carry it off?

He spared a glance for his opponent, wanting to
measure him, and his breath caught. Suddenly he
understood why Shindou was causing such a stir among
the insei. Bleach blond bangs tumbled over a tanned
forehead, but the eyes beneath them were of an
experienced player, one who understood the risk he was
taking, and knew he could carry off such dangerous
play.

Isumi stared at him for a moment, before reaching into
a go ke. He had been the strongest insei in his time
as Shindou was now, and it was time that someone
showed Shindou Hikaru that sometimes strength wasn�t
measured just but skill - but by determination.

Still, as he placed a capping move to begin the battle
for the center, which would ultimately decide the
game, Isumi Shuichirou wondered if he wasn�t about to
be horribly humiliated. 

****

Amano looked at the results of the second round,
wondering exactly which of the insei he was supposed
to be watching, or if the insei Shinoda had his eye on
had crashed and burned. 

Four insei had defeated pros in the first round.  Waya
Yoshitaka, Honda Toshinori, Iijima Ryu and Shindou
Hikaru. He knew of the first three, who had been insei
for a few years now and were likely candidates to pass
the pro exams this year, but Shindou was a new name to
him.

His instincts told him that Shindou was the insei that
Shinoda had been slyly telling him about. A practical
unknown, now ranked first among the insei...

And Shindou and Waya had won their second matches as
well. Amazingly, Isumi had been eliminated. That was
certainly interesting, but there was nothing to do
except watch... and perhaps ask another of the insei.
Subtly, of course.  

�Nase-kun, can I talk to you for a minute?� he asked.

The pretty girl turned to him and gave him a sweet
smile. She had been an insei for three years, and was
trying to enter the main league, instead of just the
women�s league. Amano liked what little he had seen of
her, always finding her pleasant, but wondered if she
would be able to achieve her goal. Entering the main
league was hard; she was good, but few women were able
to pass the insei exam.

�Can I help you?� she asked.

�Do you have a moment?� Amano queried, even though he
knew she did. 

Nase had lost her first game against Isumi Shuichirou,
which had been expected. Isumi had only been a
professional for about two months, but he was
considered one of the most promising talents to enter
the Go world in a while.

/But Shindou defeated him,/Amano thought, feeling a
shiver of premonition run up his spine.

She didn�t appear bitter about her defeat, She nodded
her head. �What do you need, Amano-san?�

�I wanted to talk to you about the insei who made it
into the third round.�

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she rested her hand on
her waist, cocking her hip just a bit. �You mean you
want to know about Shindou,� she said. 

/Caught like a rat in a trap,/ Amano thought.
�Well...�

�It�s natural. Shindou tends to attract attention.
Have you watched any of his games yet?� she asked
curiously. 

There was no resentment in her eyes over the attention
one of her rivals was receiving, just genuine
curiosity, something Amano found refreshing.
Wordlessly he shook his head.

�Watching Touya Akira? Can�t blame you, but if you get
a chance, watch Shindou this game,� she told him. She
leaned a bit closer to him, dropping her voice.
�Watching Shindou is a treat. There�s something in his
game � it�s indescribable. You have to see it to
believe it. Course, playing Shindou... that�s
something totally different.�

�Bad?�

She seemed to consider it. �I don�t know if I would
say bad, but... profound. Like you�re dealing with
someone who�s on another plateau, and doesn�t know it
yet.� Her voice was hushed and solemn, making Amano
wonder even more, before she gave him a wink. �Right
now the insei betting pool have three to one odds that
he and Touya Akira are going to play the final match.
You want in?�

�You�re kidding!� No matter how good an insei was,
there was no way he�d get through the next two rounds.
The field was thinning, and right now only the better
players were remaining.

�I�m serious as a heart attack,� Nase told him.
�Shindou versus Touya... it�ll be a game to see.� 

He raised a hand to straighten his glasses, smiling a
bit in amusement. �I�ll take that bet. Next game,
Shindou is playing Ochi, and we all know what he�s
like. Good as he may be, Ochi was the best to pass the
pro exams in years, with the exception of Touya
Akira.�

�You�re on.�

****

Many people described him in similar terms - focused,
dedicated, determined. Others who knew him even better
would add arrogant and annoying, but no one could deny
that Ochi Kousuke was one of the most talented Go
players of his generations.

Right now he was an irritable, talented player. He
shifted in his seat a few times, trying to make
himself more comfortable, but he wasn�t having much
luck. The seats weren�t designed for prolonged
sitting, and after two games, Ochi was beginning to
feel the strain on his lower back.

He was even more annoyed about his next opponent. He
had been looking forward to playing Isumi and getting
even for their last game, but it didn�t seem like he�d
be getting his wish. Amazingly, an insei had knocked
Isumi out of the tournament.

Curious, really. Isumi was a good player, and for an
insei to beat him, especially one who hadn�t been in
the school for long was an accomplishment. If the
insei was good enough to get into the third round,
that meant he was doing about as well as Ochi had been
the previous year.

It looked like another rival was coming up. 

He saw the insei, Shindou something-or-other, chatting
with Waya, waving his hands. Shindou seemed to be a
bit over excited about something, because all of the
sudden Waya reached out and clouted him upside the
head lightly, leaning forward and saying /something/
intense into Shindou�s face.   

Shindou frowned, clutching his head, and gave Waya a
look before turning toward where Ochi was sitting.
Waya gave him a push, earning a dirty look from his
friend.

Ochi tried not to feel jealous. He had never really
made friends while an insei, and he had always assumed
it was that his skill had kept the others away. But
seeing Shindou, talking easily with Waya, made him
wonder. 

Had he been wrong? Was it possible to walk to road to
the hand of god with company? 

Shaking his head, he dismissed such useless thoughts.
There was no time for regret, no time for uncertainty.
The game was all that mattered.

Shindou finally took the seat across from him. Ochi
was surprised at how sharp those unusual green eyes
were, how they seemed to look right through him in one
quick glance, before returning to something that was
less threatening. �Ochi-kun, right? I�m Shindou
Hikaru.�

�Ochi-2-dan,� Ochi said, making it clear where they
stood. He may have been only fourteen, and a year
Shindou�s junior, but he deserved respect.

�That�s nice.� Shindou seemed completely uninterested
in Ochi�s credentials, which inflamed the young pro.

�Are you ignoring me?� Ochi asked, his voice growing
sharper with anger.

Shindou�s attention was focused on the board. �Huh?�
he said, glancing up in surprise, before Ochi�s
question registered. �No, no... I�m just thinking
about the next game.�

His reply did little to mollify Ochi�s temper. /I�m
going to crush you,/ Ochi resolved, thinking that
thoroughly humiliate Shindou would show the insei that
Ochi deserved the respect he had been given. Rudeness
was something that he wouldn�t tolerate.

The buzzer sounded, and Shindou placed his first stone
above the upper right. Ochi recognized the
deliberation behind it, recognized that Shindou
probably had some kind of plan.

Well, he�d do everything he could to undermine it.
There was no such thing as a plan that couldn�t be
disrupted. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he
mirrored the move, a slight smile coming to his lips.

***

Waya wasn�t surprised to hear the �tap-tap-tap� of
fingers against the bathroom stall as he entered the
men�s room. He had almost forgotten Ochi�s rather
peculiar habit.

He�d just lost his third game, but wasn�t that too
upset, since he�d never heard of an insei making it
past the third round - but if Ochi was pounding
walls...

�Hey, Ochi! Have fun playing Shindou?� he asked,
knowing it was a bit mean to kick the younger boy
while he was down, but unable to resist. Ochi was an
arrogant pain in the ass, and getting under his skin
was worth it. Besides, the Young Lion�s Tournament
wasn�t that big a deal. The prize money was small, and
there was hardly any prestige attached to it.

�Shut up!� Ochi howled from inside the stall, his
muffled voice echoing through the room strangely.
�Leave me alone!�

Waya blinked a bit in surprise. There was genuine pain
in the younger boy�s voice, and he hadn�t meant to
sting him quite that badly. He knew winning was
important to Ochi, but the game shouldn�t have
mattered that much. �Ochi... what happened?� he asked,
and his voice turned serious. It sounded liked Shindou
had pulled something, to get Ochi so wound up.

�Never mind! Go away, Waya!�Waya sighed and shoved his
hands in his pockets.  He�d have to ask someone who
had watched the game. Shindou would probably play
clueless or be his usual cryptic self. 

His answer came during break, when he ran into Amano,
a reporter for Go Weekly. The reporter was scribbling
in a long, thin journalist�s notebook, pausing every
now and then to chew on his pen cap. 

In all honesty, Waya had been looking for Isumi, whom
he assumed had watched some of Shindou�s game out of
curiousity, since he hadn�t seen him at his. But when
he heard someone call his name, he turned around to
see who _ Amano.

Amano set aside his work to focus his full attention
on him, something Waya had never rated before. Amano
dealt with professionals, not insei. �Hello, Waya-kun.
You played very well today.�

�Thank you,� Waya replied, feeling a slight flush come
to his cheeks. He was proud of his accomplishment, and
knowing he could hold his own against pros would be a
great boost going into the exams.

Amano seemed a bit hesitant before speaking again.
�I�m sorry I didn�t watch your game, but I was...�

�Watching Shindou,� Waya said flatly. Things came
together, and suddenly it made a lot more sense why
the reporter was approaching him. His jaw tensed, and
he felt a wave of hostility roll through him. It was
infuriating to be left in Shindou�s shadow, no matter
how fascinating he found the other boy.

Waya�s understanding didn�t catch the perceptive
Amano, who was used to dealing with some of the
largest egos in the Go world, unaware. The man
straightened his glasses, and the uncertainty melted
away. �Yes, I was watching Shindou-kun play Ochi-kun,�
he said.

Waya sighed, running his hands through his hair. �What
happened?� he asked, as if he didn�t already know.

Amano�s face was intent as he started at the
scrawlings he had made in his notebook. �Ochi played a
good game - he always does. But Shindou...� he trailed
off, obviously looking for the right words.

Waya wasn�t surprised. He was used to Shindou leaving
people at a loss for words. It was one of the reasons
Waya wanted to strangle the other boy, when Shindou
was in one of those odd moods he fell into. 

�Went above him, pulled some new tricks you didn�t
even consider, and basically smacked Ochi down,� Waya
said tiredly, before realizing who he was talking to.
/Amano-san is a member of the press! He could be
quoting you!/ Waya thought in a panic, his eyes
darting from side to side as he looked around for an
escape before he could say anything else exceedingly
stupid.

Amano sighed, recognize the deer-in-the-headlights
look for what it was. �Waya-kun, I don�t intend any of
this to be on the record. I just want to know about
him.�

�We all do, Amano-san!� Waya blurted out, months of
frustration finally bubbling over. �He�s a good friend
of mine, but every time I hang out with him, I�m left
realizing I know absolutely nothing about him! Where
did he learn to play? Why is he so driven? Why the
hell is he so strong, and why didn�t any of us hear of
him before?� 

�Five more minutes until the next round.� Amano
checked his watch, before looking up at Waya again.
�He�s in the semi-finals. If he wins this, he�ll be in
the final round.�

�With Touya Akira,� Waya agreed. Neither of them were
giving Saeki, good as he was, much hope of defeating
the Meijin�s heir.

The two froze, the ramifications of what Waya had just
said resounding profoundly.

What would happen when Shindou played Touya Akira?
Waya's heart beat faster at the very thought. One of
the idols would finally fall, and he honestly had no
clue which one it would be.

Either way, Touya Akira was in for a rude awakening,
and Waya was honest enough with himself to admit he
was petty enough to be looking forward to it. If there
was one person who could annoy the hell out of him
(with the exception of Ochi, whom he doubted was a
homo sapien) it was Touya Akira.

It was an old grudge, dating back to the pro
preliminaries two years ago, which Touya had cruised
through with perfect scores. It was unfair how
everyone had expected it and Touya hadn�t even come
close to stumbling. The way Touya hadn't even seemed
stressed about taking the test was annoying as
anything, as though his passing was a foregone
conclusion. Touya had taken Isumi's place, which had
forced the Waya�s friend into another year of classes.
 

Amano�s thoughts, though, were of a less personal
nature. He was starting to see something new take
shape in front of him, to see the future of a
stagnated world, and for all his talk, he couldn�t
quite believe it.

Would there be a new wave, with Shindou and Touya
fighting it out? Would players like Waya, who had such
determined eyes, follow in their wake, motivated to
overtake the two?

Or would Touya sit alone on the throne, isolated
forever?

END PART THREE


=====
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep."
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