A/N: I update faster on AO3, but for consistency's sake, I will do it here as well! (◕‿◕)

Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go.

Pairings: Ditto the last.

Warnings: Mitsuo-ness.

Chapter 23

Tattered Ribbons

"You should eat something."

Hikaru stared at the proffered food mulishly. Truth be told, he just didn't think he could; his mouth felt locked shut and his stomach was violently protesting the idea that anything be added to it. His nerves had been frayed too severely, numbness having settled over his mind for a good hour or two now - he wasn't sure how long it'd been honestly - so that all he could do was stare despondently at whoever talked to him.

Annoyingly, this didn't seem to bother anyone who interacted with him. The man sitting at his desk was idly flipping through a book - it looked like a serial graphic novel, of all things - and wasn't paying him much attention. Hikaru had been laid out on a bed, and while that normally would have sent him into a panic - after everything, he wasn't sure his body had enough energy left to panic. Not to mention that the door was kept wide open and Hikaru could hear people moving about up and down the hallway, some occasionally stepping inside the room to tidy up or change the platter of food to a new meal, always left on the foot of the enormous bed Hikaru was sitting up in.

"Or maybe you don't like Japanese cuisine?" the man continued. The cuisine point was moot. They'd been going through every cuisine - they were on Japanese cuisine now after both Chinese and French failed to entice him. The man always spoke in a calm, even tone, but he had a way of speaking that felt more as if he were talking to himself rather than Hikaru. He'd introduced himself as Nishino, and according to the man - he would be responsible for making sure Hikaru felt comfortable, where ever this was. Nishino hadn't exactly been forthcoming about that.

Nishino pushed the button for the intercom system. "That's a no on Japan. You guys know he's only twelve, right? Bring up junk food," he suggested. That criticism probably had to do with the fact that all the meals they had brought up recently were hopelessly decadent.

A pause, and then the intercom buzzed. "Like a burger?" came the inquiry.

The man rolled his eyes. "Yes, like a burger. Or ramen. Or just rob a vending machine, I don't know - junk food, people!" he replied.

Another pause, and then the intercom buzzed again. "Can you ask Bocchan what he wants? Kids shouldn't just be eating junk food, y'know," came the chastisement.

Nishino practically slammed the call button. "Arata, I swear to god, I'll-"

"Nishino-kun."

Nishino stopped abruptly, moving away from the intercom almost guiltily. Hikaru, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, found his attention arrested by the figure now standing in the doorway.

Fujiwara Mitsuo entered the room, gaze steady as he moved to Hikaru's bedside. "Hikaru-kun, how are you feeling?" he asked kindly.

Hikaru stared at him. Just when he'd thought he'd reached his emotional zenith, it turned out he could still feel overwhelming dread if pushed. "Fu- Um, uh..." What did he call the man? They weren't related but he'd been adopted into the family, so technically-

No, wait, Sai was throwing him away. Didn't Fujiwara Mitsuo know that? Or had he not yet been informed? Looking into those familiar violet eyes, Hikaru felt as if a loud buzzing sound was crawling up inside him, drawing closer to his eyes and ears.

Sai was leaving him-

Sai was leaving him-

Sai was leaving him-

Hikaru choked on his sob but a new wave of tears broke forth no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. They spilled fresh and hot down his face, and he tried to turn away to hide them but Mitsuo laid a hand on his shoulder to halt his movements.

"Hikaru..." Mitsuo started, looking thoughtful.

"D-Don't touch me," Hikaru snapped back, snot-clogged noise slurring his words. He couldn't stop crying no matter how hard he tried; everything hurt, every part of him he hadn't realized could even feel pain was alight in agony. "Don't touch me, we're not anything, Sai isn't- Sai-"

Sai was abandoning him. Hikaru couldn't say it out loud because then it would feel too real. Even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, saying it out loud felt too inevitable, felt too absolute. Sai was leaving him because Hikaru had lost, because Hikaru could not be loved - hadn't he learned that?

Hadn't he learned the only type of love he'd ever receive?

Hikaru vividly remembered the touch of Amekura.

Hikaru's cries turned into uncontrollable sobbing and he couldn't hear anything anyone was saying to him now. Some part of him wanted to lash out, to get angry at the world in general for playing with him like this - but he was too tired and he hurt too much to do much more than try to curl into a ball and cry his heart out. He almost started heaving from the emotional onslaught but there was nothing in his stomach to sick up. His head felt weighed down, dizziness ringing behind his eyes and disorienting him in his own skin. This wasn't him, not really, it couldn't be- Had he always been this pitiful, had he always been this weak?

Oddly enough, Mitsuo had yet to let him go.

In fact, the man was now holding him by one arm; the touch was gentle but controlled - he wasn't letting go of Hikaru any time soon, and instead seemed to be trying to pull the boy closer to him. The man was now perched on the side of the bed, steadily pulling Hikaru closer until he'd managed to wrap the boy in a loose embrace. Hikaru screamed, attempting to propel himself backwards but his body wouldn't agree with him. His limbs were heavy, his breathing labored, and it was as if his throat was trying to regurgitate the bloody pieces of his heart that were seemingly crawling up his throat.

"Hikaru, you're safe now," Mitsuo repeated, over and over; the words tried to pierce through the haze of Hikaru's frantic thoughts and increased the hurt a hundredfold. It was just such a wholly Sai sentiment that Hikaru burst into a fresh bout of tears. He tried to squirm free but Mitsuo wouldn't let him go, even when Hikaru tried hitting him where he could. But Hikaru's strength was fleeting and instead he just let himself cry and cry into Mitsuo's chest until his energy had all but vanished, and Hikaru sagged quietly into Mitsuo's arms.

Nishino frowned, setting his book to the side. He'd been careful not to approach Hikaru the entire time to avoid all that had just transpired. "That's the second time he's passed out," he pointed out to his employer. The first time had been when they'd entered Mitsuo's son's apartment and found the child screaming into his knees. He'd passed out when Kawai tried to shake him out of it, apparently too emotionally spent to react to their intruding presence.

"Hikaru's going through a bit of a tough time right now," Mitsuo observed with his ever-present smile, hands stroking through black strands of hair. The gesture was comforting and familial, and to any outside observer, would have seemed like such a fatherly (or grandfatherly, as this case may be) thing to do.

Nishino was not an outsider, having long grown accustomed to the relations of the Fujiwara. "We'll need to hook him up to an IV if he doesn't eat something in the next 12 hours," he said instead.

Mitsuo glanced about. They had put Hikaru in one of the guest rooms but the room was used mostly for show given its close proximity to the ground floor. They'd been having employees routinely walking up and down the hallway and going in the room for rehearsed actions, to give Hikaru the impression that he wasn't stranded alone in a room with a man he'd never met.

"Check if they've finished preparing Hikaru's bedroom upstairs," Mitsuo ordered. The employees had been tasked with setting up a personal room for Hikaru when Kawai had come back with him; it would have far more entertainment and personal touches then the currently formal guest room he occupied. This would be the first time the house had a seemingly permanent Fujiwara under 18 years of age.

Nishino departed, leaving Mitsuo to tuck Hikaru back into bed. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia; he'd done similar for Sai back when he was younger, in the rare times he wasn't occupied with work. Sai had adored it, so much so that Mitsuo wanted to be there every night for his son. His work kept him away more times than not, however, and Sai instead would be left with only his mother to say goodnight to. Mitsuo could only guess at what that might have been like: perhaps his wife had done as he did, tucking their child into bed with soft words and warm smiles. Or perhaps she hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her only child, laying in her bed as silent as a doll.

"Sai used to cry himself to sleep too," Mitsuo said quietly, brushing delicate fingers through Hikaru's blond fringe. "But unlike Sai, you'd probably hate to be held for comfort."

They were remarkably unalike. Hikaru was visceral and cutting, prone to thorns and vitriol; he'd sooner expect the worst from anyone who interacted with him than believe in help. But he put himself out there, in a way Sai had never been able to do - he made friends, whether he trusted them or not; he interacted with others despite his reservations, he sought out personal connections even when he knew they would not last.

Weak, Mitsuo thought, brushing away the tear tracks on Hikaru's cheeks. Hikaru relied on others to an extent where he was hurt more often than not. But still- there was strength in a person who could climb back up again.

Mitsuo could use that.

When Hikaru next woke up, it was again to the sight of Nishino reading his book but this time set in a different room.

It was larger than the room he'd previously been in, and it took Hikaru a long moment to remember what had happened before he'd slipped into unconsciousness. Humiliation burned on his cheeks as he recalled his minor breakdown in Mitsuo's arms; perhaps that's why he'd been moved? It didn't explain why his room had gotten an upgrade - shouldn't they have just dumped him in some random alleyway? It's not like the Fujiwara family had any business with him anymore.

Tears pooled in his eyes and it took a few minutes of hitched breathing and rough rubbing at his eyes for the fresh wave of sadness to pass. Nishino was quiet through the whole thing, although his attention had moved from his book to Hikaru now.

"Are you hungry?" Nishino asked, after it looked like Hikaru wouldn't burst into tears at the slightest provocation.

Hikaru did not respond.

Nishino's composure did not waver. "You have gone nearly a whole day without eating. Coupled with the stress you are currently under, your health will continue to deteriorate," he explained. His no-nonsense tone was comforting, to an extent; couched in medical terms and said with professional ease, it was easy to believe Nishino was a doctor rather than some stranger invested in his well-being.

"I can make you something light but you must eat," Nishino said.

Hikaru wanted to burrow under the covers but didn't want to have Nishino out of sight. "It doesn't matter," he replied in a small voice.

"It does," Nishino retorted. He stood, moving over to the desk where another intercom waited. He placed an order of chicken consommé with only a brief verbal threat to the chef at the other end, before resuming his seat and turning watchful eyes back onto Hikaru.

Hikaru pretended not to notice, letting his eyes wander over the room. The bed he was on was Queen-sized, draped in comfortable dark blue sheets with a thick white comforter swamping him. The room itself was in shades of burnt charcoal gray, white, and bronze. Two small loveseats in dark shades of grey were lined against the wall, a small table set between them with a tall vase of what appeared to be wisteria flower petals filled inside. On the other side of the room was a small desk area, where a wide, modern desk rested – the shelves were filled with study materials, and the top of the desk had a winding lamp and an assortment of school supplies. The carpet itself was plush and gray, spread throughout the generous floor space. There was a step up into a nook separated by a sliding paper door, left half-open so that a small tatami room where a goban and small bookshelf sat. There were another two doors – one was left open, the quiet hallway lit by some unseen luminescence.

Hikaru wanted to ask when he'd be kicked out but the words were stuck in his throat. If he asked, then he'd get an answer, and he wasn't sure he could handle that right now. He was torn - most of him wanted to leave but the rational part of him realized that he had nowhere to go.

Sai did not want him.

"Hikaru-sama."

Hikaru looked over at Nishino, green eyes wide. The track of his thoughts had set his heart rate escalating and his breaths had started to speed up, but at Nishino's interruption, his body halted its advance to another panic attack. Nishino proved a welcome, if somewhat terrifying, distraction.

Nishino cocked his head in thought. "Do you know where you are?" he asked after a moment of consideration.

Hikaru stared at him, trying to parse out if that was a trick question. Is there a wrong answer? Why was Nishino asking? Did he think Hikaru knew too much, which was why they hadn't thrown him out yet?

"I," Hikaru hesitated. Nishino was only watching him calmly. "I'm at... a house that belongs to Fujiwara-san?"

It had to belong to Mitsuo; it didn't make sense for him to be sequestered away in some stranger's house. Hikaru didn't know why Fujiwara Mitsuo had chosen to lock him away; Hikaru knew nothing about the Fujiwara family outside of a few names. The only one with horrible secrets to hide was Hikaru.

"That's right," Nishino nodded gamely. "This is the Fujiwara main house, actually."

Hikaru's blood turned cold. There was no adequate reason as to why Hikaru was here. None that made sense to him, anyway.

"And this," Nishino said, motioning to the room at large. "Is your room."

The words echoed in Hikaru's head. Nishino only continued to watch him, nonplussed by the lack of reaction. Mostly because Hikaru didn't know how to react; there were too many unanswered questions and Hikaru couldn't hope to discern one for the next considering the chaotic state of his mind.

Sai did not want him.

Sai did not want him, and Hikaru was at the Fujiwara main house.

Sai did not want him, and Mitsuo had hugged Hikaru until his sobbing had drained the last of his energy.

Sai did not want him, and Hikaru now had his own bedroom at the main house.

"I don't understand," Hikaru said, voice small. What did Fujiwara Mitsuo want him for? Hikaru had very limited abilities, and of those abilities - the only time an adult had been pleased with him, it had left Hikaru feeling more like an expendable toy than a person.

Hikaru shuddered, curling in on himself. What did Fujiwara Mitsuo want? Did he know what Hikaru was before Sai? If he did, and that was why he had brought Hikaru here...

Sai did not want him. Who was to stop him?

What choice did Hikaru have?

"You're his grandson."

Nishino's voice cut through the frenzy, clean and clear. His tone had not changed from its factual set, his face remained impassive - as if this was common knowledge he was sharing, as if Hikaru should have known all this and come to the correct conclusion.

"Those under the direct line of the Fujiwara will always have a room at the main house," Nishino explained candidly. "Sai-sama's room is next to this one, and Mitsuo-sama's is further down the hall."

Hikaru's grip on the blanket tightened, tears once again threatening to fall. His confusion was painful; his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a hand made of fire and the stress of every waking moment was coiling tight at his temples, stabbing painfully behind his eyes.

"I don't understand," Hikaru repeated. Nishino did not respond, expression thoughtful as he ruminated. There was a knock at the door that startled Hikaru so badly he'd hit the headboard, although Nishino only called out a curt order to enter.

Hikaru had been half-expecting Mitsuo to enter again, or even another maid ready to clean an already spotless room - but instead, a young man entered. He was likely the same age as Aian, with a shock of close-cropped bleached white hair and narrow eyes. He was dressed comfortably in black slacks and a white button-up with a sunflower yellow knit cardigan. A jaunty, rainbow-colored nametag was pinned to his chest, proclaiming his name to be 'Kiyoharu' in bubbled hiragana. He was carrying a tray of what Hikaru assumed to be the consommé Nishino had ordered for him, along with a tall glass of orange juice, a slice of strawberry shortcake, and several small candies.

Nishino clicked his tongue. "Why are there so many sweets?" he asked briskly. "I only ordered soup for him."

The teen glanced at Nishino, giving a small shrug. "Arata-san said that just because Nishino-san has been a bitter old man since he was a kid, doesn't mean Hikaru-sama is the same," he replied blithely, Kansai accent evident in his words.

Nishino muttered what sounded like a death threat under his breath. The teen had turned to Hikaru, a lax smile in place as he placed the tray of edibles at the foot of his bed. He wasn't as careful with himself as Nishino was, but he didn't seem at all perturbed to find Hikaru with red-rimmed eyes and looking disgustingly wrung-out.

"Hikaru-sama, good afternoon!" he said, and then to Nishino's irritation and Hikaru's bewilderment, actually took a seat next to the tray. "I'm Yashiro Kiyoharu, but you can just call me Kiyoharu. Everyone does, except for Nishino because he thinks he sounds meaner when he uses surnames."

"Yashiro, I'll fire you," Nishino swore.

Yashiro grinned, leaning forward conspirationally. "Ask me anything you want about the house! I know all the gossip, that's why he can't fire me-"

"We do not gossip-" Nishino tried to interject in an affronted tone.

Yashiro steamrolled on, "-and I'm here like, all the time. Except after 9PM, because then I have to go home and pretend I have a life outside of this place and let's be real, I don't-"

Nishino groaned. "What useless things are you saying now?"

Yashiro winked, leaning back to recline more comfortably on the bed. He looked completely at ease despite the previous tension in the atmosphere, but that was almost a distant dream to Hikaru now. With Yashiro now in the room, Hikaru felt some of his apprehension fade just a bit; Yashiro was closer in age and didn't have the same polite reservation carried by the other staff members. His self-assurance was new, and the way he carried himself was different from the likes of Kishimoto, Tsutsui, or even Kaga; his air was not meant to impose, or calm, or even threaten. Yashiro was more like- a taste of something far more curious...

Hikaru wondered what his job was, though; he stayed rather late but he clearly did not have a uniform on, and he looked too young to hold a more official job besides. The other employees - the maids who cleaned the room and the employees who had previously brought him his food - had all been dressed in clean uniforms. The only thing even remotely professional on Yashiro was his nametag, but that looked like he had done it himself out of boredom or in preparation for a class of kindergarteners. What possible use had Fujiwara Mitsuo found for the white-haired boy?

"I have some errands to take care of so Yashiro will be staying with you," Nishino explained to Hikaru, standing.

Yashiro was his babysitter? Hikaru would have been more insulted, if he hadn't been so looking forward to a reprieve from Nishino's knowing stares.

Nishino seemed to understand the look on Hikaru's face. "...we think you're a flight risk, Hikaru-sama," he explained. "For your own health and safety, we need to be sure of your whereabouts. You will not be watched so carefully the whole time you are here; however, we are expecting a visitor this evening and we don't want anyone to disturb you while you're resting."

So what was Yashiro then, his guard dog? Hikaru glanced back over at the teen, but none of this seemed to be news to him. Yashiro had popped a piece of gum into his mouth and was chewing happily, content to let Nishino explain their reasoning and his purpose. He matched Hikaru's look after a moment, smile widening even as Hikaru glanced away.

"Once you're done eating, I can give you the grand tour," Yashiro promised him brightly. "It's just the staff here right now, but it's better than being cooped up in this room all day!"

Yashiro, apparently, had no qualms about tugging Hikaru along. As soon as the boy had finished what the older male thought to be an adequate amount of the food he'd brought in, he'd half-dragged Hikaru out of bed and out the door. The grand tour of the Fujiwara main house took a little over an hour, although most of the time was spent with Yashiro introducing him to passing employees or telling him random anecdotes as they traversed the property. Hikaru was allowed to freely roam the premises, Yashiro had explained; the only place off-limits was Mitsuo's office, for business-related reasons.

Yashiro had pulled Hikaru through multiple rooms: guest rooms, living rooms, a large kitchen, dining room, library and study, several guest bathrooms. ("There are more bathrooms than bedrooms," Yashiro had said with a snort.) There was an expansive backyard with its own pond and bridge, the garden laid out like a traditional Japanese courtyard. Hikaru noticed there was wisteria vined all throughout the garden, thinking not for the first time that there was a certain element of theatricality inherent in the Fujiwara line.

Yashiro had also introduced Hikaru to the staff, or at least the ones who were considered core employees. Hikaru could finally put a face to the voice over the intercom; the chef, Arata, was around Nishino's age, but with a rougher look about him. He'd slipped Hikaru a few extra pieces of candy during the walk-through, jaunty smile in place. Hikaru didn't have the heart or confidence to tell him that he didn't like sweets that much.

"Most of the employees are attending to other estates, so we're running on a bare bones crew," Yashiro explained. "Boss thinks it's better for the house not to be too crowded right now."

Hikaru blinked. "How many employees usually work here?" he asked.

Yashiro shrugged. "It depends on if the Boss is staying here or not. When he's not here, we only have a maid service and a gardener come in once a week. When he is here, though, there's usually about fifteen or so people crawling all over the place."

That many unknown people just being around made Hikaru's skin crawl. Still, he said nothing about it; whatever lifestyle Fujiwara Mitsuo had was none of Hikaru's concern.

But then- why had Mitsuo sent his employees away?

Evening passed quietly in the Fujiwara estate. Hikaru had not come down for dinner, but to be fair, Mitsuo had not expected him to; Nishino explained that Yashiro had taken Hikaru around the grounds for most of the day, and for someone who'd spent most of the past 24 hours in extreme emotional turmoil, a brisk walk with Yashiro would be like running a marathon nonstop. So Mitsuo took his meal alone, then retreated to his office to go through some more documents for work so as to not waste the time. He couldn't help but count down the minutes though, each tick-tock of the clock warming something inside of him.

Mitsuo didn't need Nishino to enter the study at a brisk pace to know - Sai was finally here.

It was obvious in the general upshift of movement of the employees, an obvious contrast to the relaxed state they had been in for most of the day. Unlike Hikaru - a child they could watch out for and handle, with the same grace and caution someone would use when dealing with a jittery new pet - the staff did not quite know how to deal with Mitsuo's son. Not that they hadn't guessed the reasons behind Sai's abhorrence for his family, but they also knew it wasn't their place to cast judgment for it. They maintained a polite but distant station to the inner workings of the Fujiwara family, and let Sai's laden contempt slide off them easily.

"He's brought Ogata Seiji," Nishino informed him. "They're both waiting in the reception room."

The reception room was large and airy, but also the most closely guarded; it's where the staff brought visitors that they knew shouldn't be allowed to wander independently. It was an intelligent move, likely under Nishino's choice - Sai may be family but they needed to restrict his access to Hikaru first. It was how they could maintain the upper hand with Mitsuo's volatile son.

Ogata Seiji was an expected addition. Mitsuo, of course, knew all about his son's beloved friend; the man was a fellow Go professional, and because he came from a humble background he was very self-sufficient. It had been noted by Kawai and the others that there was a noticeable uptick in the amount of time Ogata now spent around Sai (and Hikaru, by extension); and although it was only speculation, Mitsuo would have to be stupid to think it meant nothing.

Mitsuo didn't much care about such things. Love was an emotion that could not be restricted or shaped. Who Sai chose to love and how he chose to show it was not Mitsuo's concern, and no matter what - he would always find Sai to be endearing, whether he chose to love a man or a woman or someone in-between, whether he chose to love at all, whether his choices made him happy or miserable.

Still, they'd have to get a guarantee that Ogata wouldn't go around talking about Fujiwara family affairs, no matter how this ended. Reconnaissance showed that Ogata wasn't really the type that gossiped about his former relationships even if they ended badly, but just to be sure, they'd have to ensure Ogata couldn't talk.

Mitsuo entered the reception room, catching sight of his son first: Sai was standing still at the corner of the large meeting table, posture tensed but not obviously so; it was nice to see his etiquette lessons had paid off in some capacity. Showing a more overt tense posture would have given Mitsuo even more of an upper hand in this situation, and Sai clearly had no desire to do that. Mitsuo was even more amused to find that Ogata had seemingly subconsciously followed the directive, hands in his pockets and looking calm but irritated.

"You look ill, Sai," Mitsuo greeted, eyes on his son's face. Sai had dark circles, likely from staying up all night last night in his frenzy demanding Mitsuo return Hikaru. Mitsuo had toyed with the idea of withholding Hikaru from Sai for longer, seeing as this house was a recently purchased property so Sai would not be able to find it, and making his son more desperate made it easier to manipulate him.

But whatever delusion Hikaru was currently suffering under would worsen the longer it went unresolved, and Mitsuo didn't want to risk Hikaru going past some no-turning point and leave his relationship with Sai irrevocably ruined. Sai felt everything so personally, and he loved his adopted child so much that Mitsuo knew that only through Hikaru could he expect Sai to meet him partway.

"Where is Hikaru?" Sai demanded coldly. His voice was even and his eyes were steady, but Mitsuo could easily imagine the undercurrent of terror his progeny was feeling. So cute, he thought.

Mitsuo turned his eyes to Ogata, who appeared to be fighting an inner battle between being polite to Sai's father or looking intimidating to Hikaru's kidnapper. "You must be Ogata Seiji," he smiled. "It's wonderful to meet you. I hear you've been taking great care of my son and grandson."

Ogata floundered for a second, clearly unprepared for praise. Apparently all those who interacted personally with Sai expected Mitsuo to be some cold, snobby criminal; it was entertaining to him, especially when he swayed them to his side. Even Sai's reaction - he had now moved to Ogata's side, almost in front of the bespectacled man and with a mighty glower - was amusing.

Sai's expression was thunderous. "We're not here for pleasantries-"

"Hikaru doesn't want to see you," Mitsuo interrupted candidly.

Sai's mouth clicked shut, pain flashing across his face before he rallied himself back up. "I don't believe you," he gritted out. "I know you took him from my apartment-"

"We judged it would be best to remove him from an environment that was causing him harm," Mitsuo explained. He glanced back at Nishino, who nodded and pulled out his cellphone. Kawai's men had known better than to act aggressive with Sai's ward when they had entered Sai's apartment, and instead took a more peripheral approach to the situation as Kawai tried to urge the child back into reality.

Nishino held out his phone so the screen could be seen by the three other men, clicking play on a video message. It took a moment for the video to load, the static clearing in a few seconds so that they could make out the low tones of conversation as Kawai's men spoke to each other. There was a tinny noise in the background growing steadily louder, until it was more human than radio noise - it took Sai and Ogata another moment to recognize it as screaming, and then the previously unseen figures at the edges of the screen disappeared altogether as the video focused on a figure curled into a ball that both men recognized.

Sai lunged forward, grabbing the phone from Nishino with shaking hands, violet eyes wide as the video stopped and automatically replayed itself: Hikaru screaming into his knees on the floor of Sai's apartment.

"What did you do to him?" Sai demanded, voice choked by fear and rage. "What did you do to him?!"

Mitsuo eyed him. "We didn't do anything," he answered solemnly. "That's what you did to him, Sai."

Some part of Sai must have known he was telling the truth, even as he shook his head in denial; tears welled up in the Meijin's eyes, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from sobbing. Mitsuo watched, fascinated - Sai often cried, especially during the times his pets disappeared once Mitsuo had judged them to be inadequate for his son. But this-

This was something far deeper. Mitsuo hadn't seen Sai with this kind of expression before, despite the many times he'd watched his son cry. It was an ugly expression, and Mitsuo marveled that Sai could twist Saika's features into something so distinctly human.

"There must be some kind of misunderstanding," Ogata broke in, one arm clamping around Sai's wrist as he moved a step forward. His voice was calm, any earlier expression of shock at Hikaru's condition gone from his face. Mitsuo could acknowledge the ninth-dan's composure. "We just need to explain the situation to him. Please let us see him."

Polite and well-spoken, and unwilling to back down; Ogata had good eyes. Nice to see his son's suitor was neither a passive bystander nor pushover. Mitsuo feigned a thoughtful expression for a moment, as Ogata pried the cellphone from Sai's lax grip and closed the video, the tinny sound of Hikaru breaking no longer echoing in the room.

"I can understand - sometimes children misunderstand adults' intentions, even when we're only doing it for their sakes," Mitsuo agreed. "Unfortunately, Hikaru is asleep right now. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to speak with him, Ogata-kun."

It wasn't lost on either man as to what that name drop could mean. Sai's fists balled at his sides. "I need to speak with Hikaru," he said.

"And you will," Mitsuo agreed easily. "With me in the room."

"Absolutely not," Sai said immediately.

Mitsuo did not budge. "Then I'll let Hikaru know you intend to speak with him...at some unknown point in the future," he replied. "I'm sure he'll understand why you need to put off seeing him."

Sai grit his teeth and glared at him, recognizing the standstill for what it was. It was not like Sai could use legal channels to reacquire his charge; the adoption he'd pushed through had only been possible because of Mitsuo's resources, resources he could easily turn on Sai if he was so inclined. Storming upstairs regardless of his father's wishes would only invite a more physical resistance, and the employees would have more than enough strength to stop him.

Sai would have to abide by his father's wishes, for the first time in years.

"I want to see him tonight," Sai said.

Mitsuo nodded, smile once again on his lips. "As long as you don't wake him," he agreed.

Sai made a beeline for Hikaru as soon as he entered the boy's room. The room was dimly lit, only a desktop lamp the sole source of illumination, having been left on by Yashiro after Hikaru had fallen asleep. The curtains had been drawn shut and the bedcovers had been pulled over the child - making him more a small lump on the bed than a discernible figure.

There was just enough of Hikaru's head poking out for Sai to get a good look at his ward's face. It was peaceful as it always looked when he slept, and in the low lighting, Sai could not see any more of the miniscule details.

Sai wondered if Hikaru opened his eyes, would Sai be able to tell they were red and puffy from crying? Would his exhaustion show? Would his voice crack from having screamed so long by himself, distraught over the mess Sai had made? Sai wanted to wake him, to reassure himself that Hikaru was alive, even though Sai already knew his charge was by no means well. Sai wanted to hold him, to apologize, to try and explain everything to Hikaru if it would alleviate even just a tiny bit of his suffering.

Sai brushed Hikaru's blond fringe out of his eyes, touch light and gentle. The boy did not stir, not even moving slightly - which was odd. In a new environment and under so much stress, Sai had thought Hikaru would have been more restless, more wary and prone to reflexive action. Perhaps the toll of the past two days had exhausted him so much that it had sunk him into a deep slumber.

The man paused, fingers brushing blond bangs one more time as an idea surfaced. He turned a glowering look on his father, who had remained content and complacent by the desk, watching them with a fond smile.

"Did you drug him?" Sai demanded in a whisper.

"We slipped a mild sedative into his evening tea," Mitsuo responded easily, voice at normal volume.

"What?" Ogata sounded horrified, moving closer - he'd been standing a step away, trying to be considerate as Sai checked over Hikaru, but now rushing closer as if to check the child himself.

Mitsuo remained serene. "Hikaru needs to rest. We barely just got him to start eating again today, which was why we felt it safer to give him some sleeping medications to encourage rest," he explained.

He's not eating, he's not sleeping, Sai's thoughts circled around themselves. Just how much had his incompetency hurt Hikaru?

"He'll sleep until morning," Mitsuo stated. "If you'd like to step back into the meeting hall with me, Sai? We need to discuss living arrangements."

Sai's head shot up from his careful survey of Hikaru, violet eyes wide. "What?"

Mitsuo seemed almost amused. "I'm afraid Hikaru will be staying with me for a bit longer."

Hikaru awoke to sunlight. The room was filled with it, warm and inviting as it poured in from the wide windows. The curtains had been pulled back to reveal their warm honey glow, and wakefulness came slowly but surely to Hikaru's senses. He was warm, cocooned in a thick blanket whose quality left nothing to be desired, and the smell of something freshly-cooked and fragrant was filling his nostrils and making his stomach growl hungrily.

The boy sat up, rubbing away the lethargy in his eyes. His scattered thoughts came back to himself as he tried to organize them: he was alone in a room. The room was the bedroom Nishino - no, Fujiwara Mitsuo had given him, at the main house of the Fujiwara family. The last thing he remembered was crawling into bed as Yashiro started doing homework at the desk, mumbling math equations under his breath that were too complicated for Hikaru's current grade level.

Hikaru stared around the room. Yashiro had given him the house tour yesterday, and he'd already spent some time in the room - but he hadn't fully explored it yet. It seemed so heavily personalized but Hikaru didn't know how - there were a great many things in the room any person would like, like the top-end desktop computer or the Gameboy and game collection neatly displayed on several bookshelves. But some of these things were clearly just meant for Hikaru, like the Go board placed in the nook of the room surrounded by multicolored cushions.

Hikaru climbed out of the bed, standing on unsure feet as he gazed around the room again. This was the first time in what felt like a long while that he was alone, so he took advantage of the moment while he still could to investigate his surroundings without someone watching his every move.

As quietly as he could, he pulled open the drawers one after another to look at their contents. Most were just rows after rows of accessories: jewelry, hair ornaments, cufflinks, watches, ties. The desk held study materials covering all subjects in Hikaru's current grade. The shelves above it were books of various genres, and a small collection of computer games. The nook with the Go board had its own short bookshelf stand, filled with kifu and Go study materials that had not even been part of Sai's own collection.

Hikaru approached the other door in the bedroom. It led into a large, private bathroom – white tile, a large granite sink with fresh soap and the brand new toothbrush Hikaru has used last night, and a large, plush white floor mat laid out between the sink, the shower, and the bathtub. There was a separate section for the vanity area, with a large mirror and all-white granite backdrop. Various lotions and facial products were lined out below the mirror, still in their original packaging. Hikaru had glanced through them only briefly last night, recognizing the top-name brands but too tired to do anything with them.

There was a walk-in closet that Hikaru had yet to enter, as Yashiro had been the one to proffer the pajamas he was now wearing. The closet seemed bigger than Sai's room, the walls lined with shelves upon shelves, along with large sections where clothes were also hung. The flooring was thick carpeting so that his bare feet felt cushioned with every step. He took in the closet with wide eyes - there was even a small white loveseat, as if he were expected to take a break should the task of changing himself prove too daunting. The closet was already partially full, the selection almost an exact mirror to Hikaru's current collection, along with additional outfits from a similar fashion style. Shoes, all in Hikaru's size, filled the shelves; it was an eclectic variation, ranging from normal dress shoes to vibrantly-colored high-tops.

"The couch is a bit excessive, isn't it?"

Hikaru jumped, whipping around with a startled look on his face. Yashiro was leaned against the doorway, ignoring the way his entrance had surprised Hikaru as he glanced about the room with a grin. "I was asking them what's the point of a couch in a closet," he started conversationally. "And Nishino was all 'he can sit and pull on his pants without struggle' and then I was like 'how much do you struggle to pull on pants in the morning, you weirdo?' but then Nishino got that little twitch under his right eye that he only gets when he thinks I'm being annoying-"

Yashiro talked a lot. The entire time Hikaru was with him, it felt like the other boy was a constant stream of words. Hikaru had thought he'd been used to such personalities given his work in the service industry, but Yashiro didn't seem to be putting on an act; he genuinely just seemed to love chattering. This made it a bit easier for Hikaru to relax in his presence, as Yashiro's barrage of words didn't really need any replies from him.

"Oh, you may want to start getting dressed, breakfast will be ready soon," Yashiro advised him. "You remember where the dining room is? I've got judo practice this morning, so I'll be leaving soon."

"I remember," Hikaru replied. The house was large so it was a fair question, but the dining area was only just down the stairs.

Yashiro nodded. "Okay! I'll see you later!" he called, leaving as quickly as he'd appeared. The older boy was more of a whirlwind of energy, and Hikaru still had no idea what his actual job was on the estate. Yashiro had not been forthcoming on the matter and Hikaru had not felt safe enough to ask the boy or even the other employees.

Hikaru was ready in little over 40 minutes later. He'd probably spent longer than necessary considering which outfits would be appropriate for a breakfast in the Fujiwara main house, easily falling back into his old routines of analyzing how to present himself to his client's satisfaction. He'd eventually settled on black slacks, a denim button-up, and a charcoal gray cardigan sweater; a simple style that didn't challenge much in the eyes of Mitsuo's generation.

Hikaru tried to remind himself that he was only having breakfast with Sai's father, not meeting a client. He was here as a... guest, not as a worker. He could say no.

He could say no.

What happens if he says no?

Hikaru's heart hammered painfully against his ribcage. Would Mitsuo throw him out, as Sai had been aiming to do? What did the Fujiwara patriarch even want from Hikaru? An insurance he wouldn't talk, an extra toy to play with?

Sai did not want him, so what did it matter?

Hikaru flattened his hands against the material of the sweater. It felt soft and airy under his fingertips, the dark-gray color cutting a pleasant contrast to his warmer skin tone. He'd tanned again; despite the long hours spent indoors playing Go or studying, Hikaru spent more time than usual commuting these days. Practicing at Heart of Stone, trying out new restaurants and shops with his friends, even visiting Kishimoto's apartment or Akira's house; Hikaru had been allowed to get to know people in a way he'd neglected before.

He'd have to give all that up now.

There would be no more time for friends. He would have to get by as he'd done before, which meant falling back in line with the likes of Masaki and Chikara. Akira had his Go career to focus on; Kishimoto, Tsutsui, Hidaka, and Kaneko needed to focus on school and their clubs; Honda, and Waya, and Nase, and Fukui - they were aiming for careers in Go.

Hikaru could not hope to follow them. Hikaru didn't have the resources to fund starting a career in Go, didn't have the strength of heart to step into Sai's career, to glance Sai in the halls of the Go institute and think-

I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry, I'm worthless, I'm sorry, I'm-

"Hi~ Ka~ Ru~ Kun~!"

Hikaru startled at the cheery tone, stumbling out of the closet to see Kawai waiting in the doorway. The man was grinning, eyes glancing about the bedroom before refocusing back on Hikaru. "I'm playing gofer, here to fetch you for breakfast!" Kawai laughed.

Hikaru, still coming down from what had almost been a panic attack, stared at the man.

Kawai cocked his head. "You must be hungry, right? Please say yes, Arata has been slaving away in the kitchen all morning and I'm afraid if you don't eat his cooking, he'll realty start to cry," he said matter-of-factly.

Hikaru blinked, flushing as he shook his head. "No, I'm hungry - I'm coming," he stuttered out in a hurry. Kawai grinned at him, turning and moving back down the hall. He slowed his pace, obviously expecting Hikaru to follow. The boy pulled on the house slippers he'd been given the previous day, following Kawai down the familiar corridors of the expansive estate.

Kawai held open the door to the dining room, ushering Hikaru in first. The boy entered almost reluctantly, eyes finding solace in looking at the floor. Kawai came in behind him, shutting the door with a soft click, and Hikaru took the chance to look up to make his greetings.

His words died abruptly in his throat when he found two more people than expected seated at the table.

"Hikaru!" Sai said, standing abruptly. Ogata followed suit, looking so clearly distressed that it was somehow more startling than his presence there.

Hikaru couldn't help it - he recoiled, backing up into Kawai who stilled his movements by resting his arm on Hikaru's head, leaning over the boy to give the two adults a wide smile.

"He just woke up, maybe don't crowd him?" Kawai suggested, playful in tone but sharp in smile. Hikaru was as still as a statue beneath him, either too scared or too surprised to move; his green eyes were wide and unfocused, disbelief trying to edge its way onto his young face. The turmoil of emotions he was feeling upon seeing his guardian's face was too much to handle at the moment, and he looked away in desperation.

"Shut up," Sai snapped coldly, glaring up at Kawai briefly before turning his gaze back to his charge. Hikaru flinched, he just couldn't help it - was Sai disgusted? Did he not want Hikaru here, and was annoyed his father had brought Hikaru anyway? Hikaru didn't want to think about it, didn't want to acknowledge Sai's rejection in any way. It hurt too much to bear with the reality of it thrust so painfully into his face, and the disassociation set in faster with every conscious refusal to even look in Sai's direction.

I'm not here- "It's okay," I'm not here- "I understand," Don't look at me- "I understand, it's okay," Don't see me-

Sai nearly reached out, starting with halting breaths, "Hikaru-"

"Good morning."

Hikaru looked up, partially-clenched hands hovering around his ears as if he'd intended to block out all sound.

Mitsuo was smiling gaily from his seat the table. "Please sit down, Hikaru - breakfast will get cold the longer we ignore it," the Fujiwara patriarch said brightly. "That would be a shame for our first meal as a family."

A/N: Well... At least Hikaru has Yashiro? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It could also be argued that the Fujiwara arc is somewhat of a recuperation for Hikaru, which would probably be easier to believe if it didn't involve people like Mitsuo running around.

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