Chapter 5: In which Hikaru meets a rude, loud-mouthed jerk on the train…

"Thanks again for coming with me, Waya. I don't know how I would have managed two suitcases alone."

Isumi 3-dan was sitting on the train with his friend and fellow go professional Waya Yoshitaka, headed to the airport. Each held on to a medium-sized suitcase with one hand and tried to eat their onigiriwith the other as the train sped forward.

"Don't mention it," Waya grinned, "And besides, I got a free lunch out of it." He waved the salmon rice ball Isumi had bought him and took another large bite.

Isumi laughed and bit into his own lunch. He had been invited by the China Go Institute—where he had previously spent two months studying—to teach as a guest instructor this spring. Isumi had accepted without hesitation. He had even been learning Mandarin just for the occasion.

"I still can't believe you're just going to pick up and go to China," Waya said, still chewing. "I get that you made friends there two years ago, but this is a huge thing you're doing for them!"

"I mean, they are paying me. They did a lot for me when I was there, so I want to help out. Besides, I'm not just doing this as a favor."

In the summer of 1999, Isumi was, for lack of a better word, intimidated into failing his pro exams by the bulldozer powerhouse that was Touya Akira. Feeling discouraged, he had accepted an invitation from some pros the following spring to go with them to China and participate in a series of goodwill games. He ended up staying for two months, (skipping school, much to the consternation of his parents), and Yang Hai at the China Go Institute had helped him overcome his emotions in competition.

The following summer, Isumi had passed the exam with flying colors. That same summer, Yang Hai also became a pro in China, and now held a teaching job at the institute there. It was he who had asked Isumi to be a guest teacher, as a way to encourage the students—Le Ping included—to boost their games.

"What do you mean, not just a favor?" Waya asked.

"Well, I just feel like I've sort of plateaued this year. Maybe China will help."

"Really? That's not right. You've won nearly all your games this season, haven't you?"

"I have won a lot of games," Isumi sighed, "but it feels like I'm not really fighting to full capacity each time, you know? I don't really know how to express it."

"This is news to me," Waya frowned. "Why haven't you brought it up in study session before?"

"I'm not even sure what the problem is, so I haven't really told anyone, not even Narusawa-sensei. If I bring it up in study session, I'll get a thousand different opinions from all of you and get even more confused."

"Huh, okay. I haven't noticed when we've looked at your games, but I guess you'd know your own playing best. So, what, you're going to China to train?"

"Something like that," Isumi said thoughtfully. Last time, going to China had given him a major breakthrough in his playing and view of the game. Since passing the pro exam nearly two years ago, he had felt his gaming improving—inching a little bit forward—with each game he played. Recently, though, that inching had come to a halt. It was like there was some block on his skills, and he wanted another breakthrough. Isumi hoped that China would work its charm again.

"Still, isn't three months a long time? I didn't even know China gave out visitor visas for that long."

Isumi gave his younger friend a side-eyed look. "Waya, they're providing me free room and board, and they're paying me. Why not stay a bit longer?"

"Geez, the Chinese sure are generous when it comes to supporting their go," Waya muttered.

"Yeah," Isumi sighed again.

If only their own government gave the Japanese go institutes that much monetary support.

"Anyway, it's a shame the institute didn't schedule me to play you this season," Isumi said after a silence. Waya had passed his pro exams the previous summer, and was playing in his first set of Oteaigames this spring. Isumi had actually been looking forward to playing Waya in an official capacity since he turned pro, but it was not meant to be.

Oh well. There was always the fall.

"Tell me about it," Waya wrinkled his nose. "I've actually got a bone to pick with the scheduling desk. Honestly, they had me play Touya literally in my second game! What's up with that?"

"Still not over that, huh? Honestly, I don't even know where this animosity comes from. Touya has always been a perfectly nice guy when I've seen him." Waya had brought up his displeasure at having to play Touya so early in his career too many times to count. During Wednesday's study session, they had completely dissected his utter defeat at Touya's hands, but that did nothing to placate Waya, whose red hair seemed to stand on end just at the mention of the prodigy's name.

"He's just so arrogant, you know? But he acts so suave, like he doesn't care? And what's with his wardrobe, anyway…"

After his tirade against Touya Akira, Waya finally changed the subject.

"Anyway, Isumi-san. Let's forget about that brat. When exactly are you planning on asking out Nase?"

Isumi almost choked on the plum in his rice ball.

"What?!"

"What?" Waya blinked, all innocence, then nudged his friend knowingly. "Don't act all surprised, man. We all know you've liked Nase for ages. What's the holdup?"

Isumi almost choked again. "What do you mean 'we all know'? Who's 'we'? And you've got it all wrong! I don't like Nase-san! We're just friends, and I respect her playing, and her perseverance, and…and…" His face had turned beet-red.

Waya smirked. "Don't worry, man. Let's see…only me, Honda, Fuku, Iijima, and Komiya know. Oh, and Ochi complained the other day that you two weren't dating yet, so I guess he knows too."

Isumi only blinked at him. He didn't know what to think. Finally, he said the only coherent sentence he could muster.

"Am I so obvious that even Ochiknows?"

Waya burst out laughing.

"Man, sometimes you just stareat her during study session, you know? Like, at her face, and then at her hands, and then back at her face? We get embarassed just watching you."

"Ugh, no! Do you think she can tell?" Isumi despaired, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows.

"No idea, but why hide it? Just tell her and ask her out already!"

"I can't do that! She and Iijima are…I don't know, but she likes him, doesn't she?"

"Uh, no." Waya rolled his eyes. "Iijima likes her, but they're not together or anything. I heard he tried to ask her out before he quit being an insei, but apparently she told him she wanted to just be friends."

"Did she really?"

"Yeah! I'm positive. And besides, Iijima doesn't even hang out with us anymore. He's out of the picture, so he doesn't even qualify as competition."

"Wait, how do you know she turned him down?"

"Fuku overhead them."

"You mean Fuku was eavesdropping."

"Potato, potahto. Anyway, point is, she's not with anyone."

"Well, I still can't ask her out. She probably turned Iijima down because she's not interested in a boyfriend. That makes sense. She just passed the pro exam, so she probably wants to focus on—"

"Oh, come on, Isumi-san! Nase. Likes. You. I'm almost sure of it."

"What are you saying? How could you possibly know that? And if she liked me, why hasn't she told me?"

Waya sighed, as if Isumi was dense beyond all hope.

"Isumi-san, you're supposed to be smarter than me. Come on, can't you tell she's been trying to get closer with you? Hasn't she started calling you Isumi recently? You know, dropped all the honorifics and stuff? And she's always asking your opinion on everything. And she's always inviting you to hang out and do non-go things."

Isumi opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again. After a few moments, he finally shook his head.

"No, no, she doesn't like me. If she were interested, she'd have said something."

"But you like her, and you haven't said anything!" Waya leapt out of his seat. This caused him to let go of Isumi's suitcase, which promptly began sliding away from them on the linoleum floor. Waya stumbled a couple of steps, retrieved it, and sat himself down again.

"Geez, Isumi-san, I'm telling you, she likes you! I don't know why she hasn't said anything, but who knows how girls' brains work? Either way, you should just man up and tell her. Stop hesitating! It's just a confession! Haven't you ever confessed to anyone before?"

Isumi gave him a curious look. They were go players. Nerds of the highest degree. Even when they were in school, they were far from average kids. Was Waya serious?

"Are you saying you have confessed to someone before?"

It was Waya's turn to get red, but only slightly. "Uh, yeah, I liked a girl in middle school. I confessed to her too late, and then we graduated, so nothing happened. She accepted, though! And we hugged and everything! So…so…there's nothing to hesitate about."

Waya smiled a little awkwardly as Isumi gawked.

"You've never told me that, Waya! And this happened last year?"

"Yeah, I didn't tell anyone because nothing came of it."

"Wow, Waya, I never thought I'd say this, but you really surprised me."

"Well, I—wait, what does that mean?! Are you saying I'm predictable? I'm not predictable!"

"No, no, it's just, from the way you used to talk about school, I thought you didn't have much of a life there, that's all."

"Hey! I had a life at school!"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you did, Waya."

"You're one to talk! You can't even confess to a girl that you like her!"

At the airport, after Waya had waved him through security, Isumi sat in the waiting area and thought about their conversation on the train. Yes, he did like Nase-san. Quite a lot, actually, and had for quite some time. Since their second year as inseitogether, when she had announced that she could play as well as any boy and intended to compete in the general title matches one day, he had caught himself staring at her from time to time. Go always came first, but as the years went on he realized that he looked forward to Sunday not only because he got to play go the whole day, but because he liked spending the whole day with her, even if they weren't talking for most of it.

She was very pretty, and if it weren't for go, Isumi knew they would probably not have even met. Nase-san was bubbly and outgoing and funny, and reminded him of the girls at his high school who rolled their skirts up and wore makeup, who always traveled in groups, who were always giggling and whispering and peering at each other's pink flip-phones.

But Nase did play go, and Isumi was glad for it because it he could actually be her friend. She was smart. She was an excellent player. She had a steely resolve to never accept defeat, and he found it mesmerizing.

At this point, so many years later, he had just come to accept liking Nase as part of his daily life. Somehow, every day, she would pop up in his thoughts through some channel or other, and he would see her smile in his mind. The past year had been rough, because she was still an inseiwhile he had gone pro, and he couldn't see her every weekend anymore. Last summer, though, she had passed with Waya, and now he got to see her more than he ever had before. They were always at Waya's new apartment these days, and the number of times she's asked him to go to karaoke or the arcade with their insei friends had increased too. Yes, his life since last August had truly been wonderful.

Isumi stared at his phone, flipping it up and then closing it again. Was Waya right? Could she really be interested in him, even a little? He'd always thought she just saw him as a nice friend, but maybe…

He got up and started to pace around the various souvenir shops by his gate. His mind raced, his ears turned red, but finally, he sat down again and resolutely scrolled through his contacts until he found Nase-san's number. He pressed call.

Then he promptly hit the hang-up button.

A few minutes later, he pressed call again. This time, he brought the phone up to his ear, took a deep breath, and waited.

A few rings later, Nase's voice came through the phone.

"—Moshi moshi? Is that you, Isumi?".

"Yes, yeah. Uh, hi!"

She laughed. It sounded almost like a giggle. Isumi felt his face heat up.

"—What's up? Aren't you headed to China today?"

"Well, uh, yes, I was. I am. I'm in the airport right now, actually."

"—Oh, cool."

There was a moment of silence. Isumi took a deep breath.

"Listen, Nase-san, I…I just wanted…um…uh…"

"—What is it?"

Another deep breath.

"I really like you, Nase!"

Silence.

"I really like you, and I've liked you for a really long time, and I'm sorry I'm not telling you in person because I should, but I suddenly just needed to tell you right now.You…you…don't have to give me an answer right away. Or at all…if you don't…uh, yes, please, just do whatever you want with this. Think about it while I'm in China. Or don't, if…Sorry I'm telling you over the phone, but…but…"

More silence. Isumi thought he heard Nase take a deep breath over the line, but he couldn't be sure. And then,

"—Isumi, when do you come back?"

"…Huh?"

"—When do you come back?"

"In July. July 8th."

"—Great. Can I call you then? We'll set up a date for dinner."

"I…what?"

Another bubbling laugh came through the phone.

"—I like you too, Isumi. Let's go on a date when you come back."

Rokuoiji High School excused special-track students like Hikaru from afternoon classes every Friday. The idea was they would use the time for make-up tests. This Friday was no exception, and Hikaru, having no tests to make up, left the school after lunch.

"Where are we headed, Hikaru? Are we going back to the salon with the old gentlemen from yesterday?" Sai, excited as ever at the prospect of playing go, flitted around Hikaru like a butterfly. Hikaru smiled indulgently at him as she tread over the blanket of cherry blossom petals on the sidewalk.

"Nope, we're going to my grandpa's house. He still owes me a very pretty music stand, and maybe I can get him to give me that go board you were living in. Just using that book without a physical board isn't really doing it for me."

"Ah, I see, I see. Good idea."

Hikaru paused for a moment, suddenly remembering something.

"You don't mind, do you, Sai? If I use Torajiro's board, I mean?"

"No, that's alright. It brings back many fond memories, actually. But you…are you comfortable with the blood stains on it?"

"Ooooh, I forgot about that. Eh, I'll have to see it again. If it bothers me, maybe Gramps has another board in that attic. He's such a hoarder."

"Does you grandfather play go, Hikaru? Oooh, can I play him?"

Hikaru raised an eyebrow at Sai.

"You mean you've lived in his attic this whole time and you don't even know if he plays go?"

"What? Whatever do you mean? Before you came along, I was in an eternal sleep! How could I have known anything, Hikaru, how?"

"Oh. Well, in that case, yes, he does play go. He played in some tournaments when he was young, but I don't know how good he is."

"Well, none of it matters. Can I play him? Can I play him, please?"

"Sai, Gramps knows I've never been interested in go in my entire life. I can't just show up and ask for a game. He'll think I was cloned or something. Don't worry, though. I'll let you play him one of these days."

"Ah I see. I'll just have to be patient then. One day soon, though?"

"Yes, Sai."

They continued walking.

"Hikaru?"

"Hm?"

"What does "cloned" mean?"

"Uh…don't worry about it."

Shindou Heihachi was the typically indulgent grandfather, even more so because his only granddaughter never asked him for anything that wasn't related to her harp playing. And Heihachi was very proud of Hikaru's harp playing. Back when he babysat her, he would physically glow with pride when his friends heard her play. They looked at him with admiration then, genuinely impressed that he had such a talented granddaughter. How could he deny Hikaru anything?

And so, when his granddaughter showed up at his house for the second time that week—and especially given her disastrous fainting spell only two days earlier—Heihachi had needed very little convincing to get up into the attic of his shed himself and search for that rosewood music stand.

Unfortunately, the music stand was, once again, elusive. The pair looked in every single box in Heihachi's attic, (despite Hikaru's protests that she had already checked them all on the day she fainted), and sure enough, it was not there. This episode further softened Heihachi to his granddaughter's requests.

Hikaru mentioned that she wanted to start learning go. Since her grandfather had promised her a present, she reasoned that the ancient go board in his attic was a suitable substitute for the absent music stand. Heihachi agreed almost immediately.

He did remember to warn her of the supposed ghost in a tall black hat, but Hikaru had only smiled somewhat knowingly to the air beside her shoulder and waved it off.

"Don't worry Gramps," she'd said. "I don't believe in ghosts."

There is no way to exaggerate Heihachi's excitement at Hikaru's sudden interest in his favorite pastime. The old man herded his granddaughter onto his back porch, then brought out book after book of kifu, go instruction, and go analysis, completely deaf to her protests that these were way too many for her to handle. Finally, he laid an old handbook from the Go Institute on top of the pile and told her,

"There, that's some light reading for you. Once you work through all of these, come play a game with me."

That afternoon, Hikaru stumbled out of her grandfather's house, balancing a large box containing one blood-stained go board, two dusty goke, and thirteen old books. It was going to be a long journey home.

She toppled down the stairs into the nearby station, trying to adjust to her new center of gravity, and had just managed to nab the single empty seat in the car when she heard someone yell at her,

"Hey! I was sitting there!"

Waya was on the subway home from the airport, listening to his Walkman and thinking, yet again, about his recent game with Touya.

Stupid! Stupid, stupid. Why didn't I connect in the upper right when I had the chance? I knew he would use every crack in my defense against me, so why did I insist on attacking? Stupid!

As he wallowed in his self-flagellation, he lost track of time, and when he remembered that he was on a moving train, Waya realized he had no idea what stop they were at.

Dammit!

Just as his thoughts were returning to reality, Waya thought he heard the loudspeaker announce the station two stops after his own. He leapt out of his seat to check the stop monitor over the heads of the standing crowd.

Thankfully, they were still five stops away from his apartment in Shinjuku. Relieved, Waya turned around to sit back down. He blinked. In his seat—the seat he had vacated just fifteen seconds ago—now sat a small girl carrying a very large box.

A little dumbfounded, Waya took a few moments to comprehend the situation.

"Hey! I was sitting there!"

At his cry, the girl looked up from the pile of books in her box, green eyes all innocent and clueless.

"Yeah, you! I'm talking to you! You stole my seat!"

The girl cocked her head, looking at Waya as if he were insane, then, slowly, furrowed her eyebrows.

"Your seat? If it were your seat, you'd be sitting in it. This is my seat."

"What?! I got up for literally a second! You fucking stole my seat!"

"There aren't assigned seats, stupid! You sit in whatever empty seat you can find! This one was empty, so I sat in it. What the hell is your problem?" The girl's voice was raised now, too, and they were beginning to attract onlookers.

"Stupid? Look who's talking! My problem is that you saw I was sitting there! I barely got up to look at the monitor, and you just—"

"SHHHH! Hush, you delinquents! This is a public train! Shut your mouths!"

Waya and the girl looked up, both resembling deer in headlights, at the booming third voice. It was a large, middle-aged uncle, and he glared at the two teenagers from across the isle. Beside him, several fashionable old ladies had stopped their whispered chatter and were also glaring over at them.

Waya's first instinct was to tell the man to mind his own business, but everything about him—his broad, square jaw, his thick pointed eyebrows, and even his voice—all bore an unsettling resemblance to Morishita-sensei. His eyes widened, all protest dying in his throat, and he mumbled an apology before turning back to the culprit in his seat.

The girl, too, seemed to be somewhat chastened. Waya narrowed his eyes at her. She narrowed hers back up at him.

"Didn't you hear the uncle?" she sneered, her voice a scathing whisper. "This is a public train. I found an empty seat. Quit looking at me like that."

"Che!You and I both know I was sitting there first. You're just trying to make yourself feel better for being a depraved seat thief."

The girl closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath, but was apparently unable to keep her response to herself.

"Even if you were sitting here—which you weren't, because this seat was empty when I took it—but even if you were, you should at least have had the decency to offer it to me. Do you see this ogre of a box I'm carrying? You really have no social decency, do you?"

Waya's mouth fell open. How did this turn into his fault? He was the victim here, but now this girl was accusing him of having no social decency?

"I…I…" he sputtered. "Just because you're a girl you doesn't mean you can bully people and steal their seats!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

The girl's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her sockets, they were so wide.

"Me? Bully you? I'm here, minding my own business, trying to get this giant box home safely, when you come along and start yelling at me! You have the audacity to accuse me of—Oh!"

Before she could finish, the train jerked to a stop at the next station. The books resting on the top of her box slid to one side, and she scrambled to catch them with one hand while holding the box steady with the other.

One of the books fell the floor, and reflexively, Waya bent down to retrieve it.

It was only as he straightened up that he remembered the situation. Without looking at her, he thrust the book back into the box.

"Thanks," she mumbled, barely audible through the din of the station outside.

As she adjusted the books to prevent any more sliding, Waya looked down and saw, with surprise, that she was carrying an old go board and gokein the big cardboard box. It looked like a nice board, too, possibly Kaya, and the surface was weathered but polished. How unusual. He was pretty sure the girls at his old high school didn't even know what go was.

Waya eyed her with a wary interest. For some minutes, he debated whether or not to open his mouth, but curiosity won out in the end.

"You uh…you play go?"

Silence. Then,

"What's it to you?" She did not sound any friendlier.

Waya snorted. "Never mind. I should have known someone like you wouldn't know how to play."

If she wasn't holding her box with both hands Waya was convinced she would have slapped him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the girl hissed. "What, you think girls can't play go?"

Waya's brain was about to explode. What had he done to deserve this? Hadn't he just picked up a book for her? He had been nice! And he was the victim here! Once again, without thinking, he shot back,

"What if I do think girls can't play go?"

The scalding, murderous green of her eyes as she glared at him from under her lashes made him immediately regret his decision.

"Wait, I didn't mean it like—"

Her eyes narrowed into dangerous lines.

"You seem to have a lot of opinions about women. Why don't you tell me more, hm? Girls are domineering and unintelligent? What else?"

"I told you! I didn't mean it like that…I…I was just…"

Waya didn't think he had ever misspoken so badly in his life. Of all the times he'd put his foot in his mouth, this was quite possibly the worst.

The cluster of old women were looking over again, muttering among themselves and looking at Waya with what appeared to be punishing contempt. How was this happening? He felt himself slowly sinking into a hole he had somehow dug for himself.

He had no idea what to do.

The girl gave a little scoff.

"You think girls can't play go? I'll show you just how wrong you are, you ignorant jackass. Let's play a game! Right now."

"What? This is a moving train!"

"This stop is Shinjuku Gyoen. We can play there."

The train was, at this moment, conveniently pulling into station.

"Wait, but—"

"What, you say girls can't play go but you're too scared to play me? So you're an ass who's all talk, huh?"

"Fine!" Waya felt his own irritation bubble at the acid in the girl's voice. Who did she think she was? "Fine, let's go to the park! Just don't get too embarrassed when you lose!"

The Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden is an expansive, 143 acre park in Tokyo's Shinjuku district. Formerly a family estate, then an imperial garden, it became open to the public after the war. In the spring, the cherry trees that line the park paths become heavy with flowers, and as the warm breeze travels through, the whole park is touched by the faintest clean smell of the sakura. The entire park is a palette of tender greens and gold and every conceivable shade of soft pink, all pressed harmoniously against a baby blue sky.

On this particular Friday afternoon, a small girl in a high school uniform with a very large box in her hands stomped along one of these flower-laden paths, face as cloudy as the day was clear, completely ignoring her watercolor surroundings. A few paces behind, a boy of similar age followed, face just as ominous, glaring at the figure of the girl.

"Sai, you'd better teach that idiot a lesson!"Hikaru huffed."I can't believe he'd say something like that! The nerve of him! His views are completely medieval!"

"I fully intend to teach him a lesson, Hikaru. You'll see"Sai floated alongside her, his eyes narrowed."And maybe he'll learn some manners, too. How very rude of him to yell at a lady in public! And to say that girls can't play go! Any of the Heian court ladies I tutored could beat him."

"That actually sounds very interesting," Hikaru conceded, voice still gruff. "Please remember to tell me more about the court ladies and their go later tonight. Right now I have to focus on being pissed off."

Neither ghost nor human seemed to remember or care that this particular girl, in fact, really couldn't play go. This was beside the point. Hikaru had no idea how many women were go players, but she was determined to show this jerk that a girl could beat him. She had a point to make, and details weren't important.

She came upon an empty bench, and set her big box down beside it. The boy came up behind her and frowned.

"This bench is right in the sun," he pointed out. "It'll be blinding. We can't play here."

"Sorry, I didn't know your eyes were so sensitive."

He ignored her jab and pointed to a bench right under a cherry tree.

"Let's use that one."

Hikaru rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"That one is covered in flower petals."

"Uh, you can dust the petals off, genius." He returned her eye-roll, walked over, dusted half of the bench, and sat down. Hikaru glared, but eventually followed. The afternoon sun actually was quite blinding.

She set down her box again, retrieved the go board and gokeand placed them on the bench, then sat herself opposite the boy. She made a point of not dusting away the layer of flower petals.

"Nigiri," Hikaru said, plunging her hand into the white stones and grabbing a handful. The boy opened the black gokeand plucked out one stone, but then held it up to examine it.

"Are these…dusty? How disgusting! When was the last time you washed these?"

This earned him a annoyed scowl.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I just brought them down from my grandfather's attic. Now, nigiri.You do know how to do that, right?"

Waya heard himself growl. This girl was evil incarnate, he was sure of it. What was her problem? He had just been going about his day when she popped out of nowhere and riled him up into this current mess of a situation. What was worse, now his pride as a go player wouldn't allow him to just up and leave.

At least it would be a quick, easy win. He took some comfort in the knowledge that she would lose spectacularly. He knew the face of every Japanese female pro their age—there weren't that many—and he was certain she wasn't one of them.

The problem was, thought, even when he won, it wasn't like he could get in her face about it. What was he going to do, tell her 'see? I was right. Girls really can't play go'? He knew that wasn't true. Girls could play just as well as any guy, maybe even better. Having lost to Nase innumerable times in the past few years, Waya knew this fact better than most.

Still, he had said that to her in the train. He was irritated. She pissed him off. He wanted to get on her nerves too, and it just slipped out. Just thinking about how he was going to get out of this situation made his skin prickle.

Waya slapped the single stone down onto the old board.

She counted six stones. Silently, they exchanged their goke. After a minute's pause, the girl played her first move. Waya countered. Only a few hands in, Waya's irritation as slowly melting away, replaced by bemusement. The way she set up her fusekiwas strange, to say the least. It almost reminded him of…but that couldn't be right. Why would a teenage amateur use outdated josekifrom a hundred and fifty years ago?

Waya looked up at his opponent, and for a second forgot that it was his turn to move. All through their subway ride, she had reminded him of an angry hedgehog, quills up and ready to attack. Now, however, while she still looked less than pleased, a calm stillness had settled around her. The way she moved was fluid—not slow, but composed, as if nothing could ruffle her. Looking at her made Waya feel…relaxed, maybe. Coolheaded. Easy. As the wind picked up again, cherry blossom petals fell softly into her shock of black and blond hair. She looked like some flower fairy, still and otherworldly. The green of her eyes under her thick line of lashes shimmered, cold like glass. Suddenly, they flickered up at him. He felt his neck prickle.

"It's your move."

"Oh. Right."

Waya placed another stone and turned his attention back to the game. He didn't dare sneak another look at her face. They were still in early fuseki, but he could tell she was good. A bit strange, but very good. Experienced. Better than he was expecting. He'd actually have to take her seriously.

"Sai, I hope you're going all out on this guy,"Hikaru said as she played another move. She couldn't really tell who had the upper hand. The general shapes didn't clearly favor one color as in the games Sai had played against the old uncles yesterday. Instead this game reminded her of their first game against Touya.

"Yes, I do plan on a quick game, Hikau," Sai said.

"Can you tell if he's any good yet?" They were just entering chuban.

"He is. Quite skilled, in fact. Not as good as the first boy, but stronger than most I've faced."

"Seriously? This guy?" Hikaru placed a stone and looked up at her opponent. The angry glare he wore before the game was long gone, and he was staring at the board with a mixture of confusion and intense concentration.

"Indeed. However, like I said, this game will quick."

Sure enough, midway through chuban, Hikaru placed a stone into white territory, and the red-haired boy gaped up at her, then down at the board, then finally bowed his head in resignation.

"Thanks for the game," Hikaru said shortly, not even bothering to hid the impatience in her voice. Already, she was beginning to clean up the stones.
She was about to say more—almost opened her mouth to jab him with another insult—but Sai put a ghostly hand on her shoulder.

"Hikaru, I think this boy will never underestimate women in the future."

"Fine."

Hikaru rolled her eyes, but did keep her mouth shut, if only so that Sai would take his frigid aura off of her.

"Who are you?"

Hikaru was halfway through tidying up when the boy finally spoke.

She looked up at him, eyes hard, and didn't answer.

"Seriously, who are you? How are you…how are you this good, but I don't know who you are?

Hikaru forgot that she was going to keep her mouth shut. Her lip curled into a contemptuous smile.

"What's that supposed to mean? You know everyone who plays go? What, can't deal with the fact that some random girl beat you?"

The boy took a deep breath.

"I already told you, I didn't mean what I said on the train. Really, I didn't! I just…I just wanted to piss you off, okay? I've played girls who were better than me. I don't think girls can't play go. That's ridiculous."

"Oh. So you're just an angry jackass, then."

"Look, can we stop talking about what I said? I'm serious. You're too good for an amateur, so just who are you?"

This last sentence caught Hikaru's attention. She stopped her tidying and looked up at him.

"What do you mean, too good for an amateur?" she asked carefully.

"I'm a pro. A professional go player, and I've—"

"You're what? You're a professional go player? You?"

"Hey, don't look so surprised!"

Hikaru's eyes grew very wide and very round. She blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend, and looked as if she had just received terrible news.

"Sai?! Did you hear that? This guy is a professional? But…but that game you just played…you beat him by so much…you…him…how on earth am I supposed to explain this now?"

"Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. This was unexpected, indeed." Sai did not know how he could be of help.

"Perhaps, Hikaru, the best way would be to take leave and not tell him anything."

"So, who are you? Are you a pro from Korea or something? I know for sure you're not a Japanese pro with the Nihon-ki'in, and you don't sound like you're from Kansai, so…"

"What? What are you even saying? I'm not a pro." Hikaru held up her hand for effect

"You're not? But how is that possible? You're so much better than me! Maybe a couple of the best amateurs in the world could beat me by a few moku, but your level of playing is way beyond that!"

"I…I think you're mistaken." Hikaru had gone back to tidying up the stones at lightning speed. "I have no idea what you're saying, and who I am is none of your business."

"But—"

"Dude, let it go! I'm just a regular person who plays go sometimes. I got mad because you were stupid on the train, so I wanted to prove you wrong. Now that's done, and I've got places to be."

With this, she put the goke and board back into the box, lifted the box with both hands, and marched back in the direction of the station. After a moment, the boy chased after her.

"Oh, come on, what's your problem?"

"Clearly, I'm not the one with the problem here."

"My name is Waya Yoshitaka. I'm a 1-dan. Just turned pro this year. Can't you just tell me your name?"

"No. Go away, Waya-san."

"You can't just play a game like that and leave without telling me anything!"

"I believe that's exactly what I'm doing."

"Come on! Just tell me who you are! At least, who'd you learn go from? How long have you been playing? Your joseki are really outdated, you know."

"Like I said, it's none of you business."

"Can't you just—"

"Leave me alone!" Hikaru finally snapped.

"No!" The boy called Waya yelled right back. "You can't just play a game like that and leave!"

"Watch me." Hikaru whipped her head around and kept walking, faster than before. The whole way out of the park and to the station, the boy walked alongside her and badgered her for information, but Hikaru did not say a single word. Her face just grew darker and darker as she tried to keep down the annoyance bubbling up her throat.

Finally, they reached the station. Hikaru surveyed the crowds as she waited in line at the turnstile, searching for the best way to blend in and lose her new tail. The boy was right in line behind her. When her turn came, in a practiced motion she leaned over and let her PASMO card scan against the machine through the side pocket of her backpack. She walked through, trying to duck into a crowd before the boy could get in.

As she looked back, however, she was surprised to see the boy still at the turnstile. Something seemed to be wrong with his own card.

"Yes! You see that, Sai? Let's lose him!"

"Hikaru, really, that was an very rude encounter. When I said take your leave, I didn't mean the way you just did."

"Dude! You saw how he kept chasing after me! What else was I supposed to do?"

Sai sighed and followed Hikaru as she darted into the crowd and boarded the newly arrived train.

"I suppose you are right, Hikaru. Alas, how times have changed for the worse! To think that society is so lacking in manners and social etiquette…"

"Sorry I'm not some court noble, Sai, but you'll be happy to know that the imperial family is still alive and thriving! We did get rid of the shogun though."

"There is no longer a shogun? But the imperial family thrives? My, it's as if you've returned to the ways of the Heian court!"

"Well…not exactly…"

Hikaru spent the rest of the train ride home explaining the ideas of a constitution and the National Diet to a flabbergasted, albeit highly intrigued Sai. Further discussion of the go pro named Waya and his revelations that day were abandoned for the time being.