K-Pop star Shindou Hikaru is on vacation visiting her grandfather when she's hit in the face with an ancient goban and a go-playing ghost all in the same day. Fem!Hikaru

The art for k-pop star fem!Hikaru is real. I'll try to post a link but ffnet hates links. Anyway I (obviously) do not know very much about Go, even if I write far too much about it, and I'm not all that better with k-pop, although researching both has been fun. But for those of you who know kpop, I've pretty much inserted Hikaru in fx as Sulli.

Chapter 1: Four Walls (에프엑스 ) - f(x)

Track 1:

Destiny

Hoody

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Hikaru normally believed in fate.

She didn't necessarily believe it to be preordained, but she did think things happened for a reason, even if they didn't make much sense at the time. When she was ten years old her parents divorced and it truly seemed like the end of the world; her father got remarried, she and her mother moved to Korea, and she had to move schools, make new friends and learn a new language all in the same year. But if that had never happened, she never would have discovered her love for dancing. And then again, when her mother got remarried and decided to move to America, the decision to finish school in Korea had been the most painful one she had ever made. But if she hadn't, she would have never had the opportunity to sign for a record label, get the chance to be a trainee for a hugely popular recording studio, be part of a cutting edge girl's group…

At any rate, she wouldn't be where she was without this selection of decisions that, in hindsight, seemed both overwhelmingly significant and absolutely arbitrary.

Despite this, she had a really hard time believing this was happening to her right now.

Hikaru pressed the ice pack to her cheek, really hoping it wasn't going to bruise. She pulled it away to examine her reflection in the hallway mirror; red and splotchy, which could have meant anything. With a grimace she placed the pack against her cheek again, pivoting smartly on one foot as she sighed into her phone.

"I'm not joking, Sunyoungiee~," she complained loudly. "How does this stuff happen to me?"

"Because you're supremely lazy." Her groupmate replied, succinct and utterly unsympathetic. "I bet you anything there was a ladder in that shed—but did you use it? Of course not. You just tugged something from a shelf above you and hoped nothing was on top of it."

Hikaru scowled. Yes, that was exactly what happened, but hell if she admitted that aloud. "I hope it doesn't bruise." She said instead.

Honestly, what were the odds that a goban of all things would be on the top of the shelf? Before she knew it as she's been tugging out an old box of photos the stupid thing slid right off the top to hit her in the face.

"Me too." Luna snorted. "We have the elle shoot in two weeks!"

Hikaru made a vague noise of agreement. It would be awful, but not completely irreparable.

She chatted with her group mate for a bit longer, before Luna had to run off to visit some family of her own. It wasn't often that they got to have down time like this, so all the girls had jetted off to see family around the world.

Finally she hung up, tucking her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans and deciding she had ignored the elephant in the room long enough.

It wasn't actually an elephant, but Hikaru would have preferred a large, hairless and smelly mammal in this case.

"So, are you going to tell me your name?" She addressed to the sullen ghost in the corner.

He looked up at her with the expression of a miserable, kicked puppy. "I'm sorry I hurt you." He said sadly, in response.

Hikaru sighed. "It was an accident—and not actually your fault! Just don't tell anyone I said that." She added hastily.

The ghost smiled a bit at that. "So you admit it, then."

"I may have acted a bit rashly." Hikaru allowed. "But whatever, I was in a hurry. Anyway, so who are you?"

He picked himself to his full height. Hikaru was a little taken aback by how tall he was, until she realized he was floating a bit. That, and his clothing made him seem about five times larger than a real person. From his clothes alone she could tell he was misplaced in time, and that was to say nothing about the fact he was see-through.

"My name is Fujiwara no Sai." He bowed low. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Sai?" She repeated, blinking. Hikaru smiled. "Well, isn't that a coincidence?"

The ghost looked up, confused. "Eh?" The expression made him seem about ten years younger than the cordial look he'd had on when he had been formally introducing himself. It was still taking Hikaru a little bit to wrap her head around the fact that there was a ghost in front of her, and that ghost happened to have facial features. And expressions. And feelings, apparently.

Hikaru shook her head, chuckling under her breath. "My stage name is Cy. It's pronounced the same."

He brightened. "Ah! Are you a performer, then? Like Kibuki theater?"

Hikaru's laugh turned a little strained. "Um. Sure, yeah. Something… like that. So—you're clearly not from this time period. Or any time period that's happened in recent history."

Sai nodded his head vehemently. "That is correct. I am from—I believe you refer to it as the Heian period."

Hikaru choked. "What?"

Sai's tale would have been so outlandish it would have been unbelievable if Hikaru wasn't already having the most bizarre day of her short life. After waking up on the musty floor of her grandfather's shed to a worried, frantic voice asking if she was okay, she had sort of given up this day as a lost cause. That was probably for the best, because it didn't look to be getting any more coherent as it went on.

Apparently Sai was a former Go instructor for the Emperor. That would explain why he had been haunting a hulking block of wood. That Goban had apparently belonged to Honinbo Shusaku—the Go Saint, as he was called these days. So this wasn't Sai's first rodeo around, haunting people and what not. He promised he didn't mean any harm; his only wish was to play Go. A wish he held so fervently that he had haunted this world for over a thousand years.

Yeah, Hikaru could believe that.

She found herself unwillingly impressed by his dedication. She'd always thought she'd been very dedicated in her training, trying to be the best performer she could be. But Hikaru wasn't sure she'd ever go as far as to haunt the world of the living for over a thousand years to make that happen.

It was a good thing her grandfather was still at the neighbor's house gossiping about the new neighbors down the street, because she wouldn't have any idea how to explain away her current situation; sitting in front of his goban, playing with the air itself.

After listening to his convoluted—and if she was being honest, incredibly heart-wrenching—tale, she had agreed to at least play a game with him. As it turned out, she doubted they'd ever get around to playing an actual game. At least, not today. Not only did Hikaru not know a damn thing about how to play the game of Go, she also didn't know a damn thing about it, period. She spent at least fifteen minutes just counting the sides of the board up and down to figure out where to put the stones for Sai. And that was just for him to teach her the mechanics, let alone actually playing it.

Okay, so it was a bit harder than it looked. But Hikaru had good muscle memory; it came with years of dance routines. She'd get this down in no time.

'No time' ended up being by the time her grandfather moseyed his way back home, stuffed full with snacks and dirty secrets. Sai was actually impressed by how quickly Hikaru had managed to memorize the board, but it was clear she still had a long, long way to go.

Her grandfather was taken by surprise to see his only grandchild lounging on the back porch, go stone in hand.

"You hold that thing like a pro!" He laughed when he saw her.

Hikaru looked up, stirring out of her thoughts. She smiled slightly, holding her hand out to examine the pearly white go stone in between her forefinger and middle finger. She'd gotten the hang of it about halfway through—it had felt odd at first, but Hikaru had always been good at picking up things like that.

"If only I could play like one too." She laughed slightly, placing the stone down where Sai had told her to.

He peered over her to get a closer look at the board. "Oh? What's this you're recreating?"

Hikaru froze for a split second, before thinking quickly and whipping out her phone. "I was just looking up a game," she lied, knowing he wouldn't call her out on it. Her grandfather still had a flip phone, and even then he barely knew how to use it. The idea of the mobile phone as a technology platform capable of the same kind of performance as a computer utterly bewildered him. But then, computers still bewildered him too.

As she expected, he only shook his head. "Kids these days..." He muttered, puttering into the living room.

After a moment of shuffling he returned with a thick book. Hikaru watched him curiously.

"Here, if you're going to be recreating things—this is a book of Shusaku's kifu; he was one of the best, you know."

"Shusaku…?" She repeated. Hikaru smiled sheepishly. "Oh! Right. Shusaku. You wouldn't happen to have anyone else, would you?" And then, to his outraged face. "It's just—you can find all his stuff for free online! Do you have any books on someone, um, like less popular?"

That probably wasn't even a lie, but all the same she couldn't tell him that she was currently hosting the ghost of Shusaku already, and a book of his kifu would be moot at this point.

Her grandfather grumbled something about seeing it in person and seeing it on a screen being too different to compare, but Hikaru only rolled her eyes.

"I don't know about that," Sai said with big eyes, in response to her grandfather, hiding most of his face behind his fan. "This little block of yours is very informative, if a bit… loud."

Hikaru rolled her eyes again. "That's youtube for you." She agreed. But she didn't know of any other place to watch someone explain fuseki with a puppet show of all things. Sai had really gotten a kick out of that.

"Ah ha!" Heihachi returned after a beat, hefting an even larger book, if that was possible. "This here is a good one! I'd forgotten I had it, actually."

Hikaru took it from him curiously, examining the title. "The brilliance and clarity of Minoru Kitani?"

She flipped it around to read the summary. She had no idea what any of these accolades might mean, but after seeing the dates of his life and doing the math, she decided it was as good as any. Maybe it would be good for Sai to get some exposure to more modern Go.

"This looks great." She said, turning it back to its front. "Thanks, grandpa!"

He grinned at her. "No need to thank me; just return it in good shape, you hear? And play me once you've learned a few things."

"Good idea." Hikaru nodded with a laugh. "Dinosaurs probably play faster than me at the moment."

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By the time Hikaru had returned to her hotel room, she felt as if she'd been in choreography practice all day long. Who knew Go could be exhausting? She'd stopped by a convenience store to inhale some food, before returning to her hotel to pour over youtube videos of Go games the way she did with new k-pop music videos. Of course, that wasn't to say she didn't distract herself with a lot of those too. Sai's only experience with the future thus far was new go strategies and new k-pop moves. Hikaru felt this to be surprisingly sufficient, given the state of things.

She'd tried to explain things as they took the train back to downtown, where she was staying at a hotel, but Sai was either far too bewildered or just in plain disbelief. He refused to believe that people had been to the moon, and despaired over the lack of innovation in umbrella designs.

And he thought k-pop was absurd.

"This isn't theater!" He had protested vehemently, when Hikaru attempted to explain what it was.

"I—I know that." She agreed hastily. "That's just the uh, closest comparison I can think of."

"I'll say!" Sai harrumphed, folding his arms. "How did things change so much since Torajiro's time? You know, even then I still understood things."

Hikaru wasn't sure how to explain away modern society, so instead she had just returned to more Go tutorials and kifu. Sai had quickly changed his tune about the sordid and appalling internet when Hikaru explained he could find almost every Go game ever recorded inside of it.

At any rate, teaching herself a new game that apparently took years of study to fully appreciate—and teaching Sai all about the future full of the internet and mobile phones and k-pop, was utterly exhausting.

Hikaru fell asleep to her own vague promises about continuing on tomorrow, and woke up in yesterday's clothes with a half unpacked suitcase and a completely upturned room that she had yet to fix—oh, and a ghost in the corner, looking exuberant at seeing her open her eyes, ready to pounce on the day.

It took Hikaru a shower and at least two cups of tea to even consider herself human enough to combat the day, and even then she was at a loss.

Did yesterday really happen? One look at the bouncing ghost by her side told her that yes, yes it did.

After an order for room service, Hikaru shoved away all the sneakers and makeup on the unused side of her bed to prop herself up with pillows, laptop in hand. She ignored all the new emails that had found their way into her inbox with the light of morning, and instead returned to where she left off in her summary of the game of Go. A summary that had, sadly, barely passed Atari.

She'd been watching for hours, but was no closer to figuring it out than she had been when she started. And Sai, sitting beside her, eagerly watching and waiting for the moment she could turn around and start to play him, was not helping. She understood that he'd been waiting for a long time—a couple decades long, actually—so Hikaru could see why he'd be so overeager, but it was starting to make her impatient too.

Room service came and went, and after Hikaru had picked sufficiently at breakfast, she closed her laptop with great finality.

"Okay, this isn't working." She announced, to her ghost companion.

Sai's eyes grew wide and wet. "What do you mean?" He protested. "The man in the box was just explaining a Hane—

"I mean, it's not working for me. It will, I'm sure, in like, a few weeks, but I can tell you're itching for a game right now."

Sai looked like he might protest this too, before finally closing his mouth. He nodded miserably. "I apologize for my impatience." He demurred, eyes lowering. "I didn't mean to offend you—

Hikaru waved him off, plucking another strawberry before hopping off the bed. "Sai, it's fine, really. We'll just have to find someone else for you to play at the moment."

Sai immediately brightened. "Really?" His eyes lit up. "But, would that be alright?"

"Sure, sure." Hikaru nodded genially, casting a wary eye about the room as she surveyed her wardrobe.

Her first thought was to haul back through town to grandpa's house. At least there she'd be in the relative comfort of somewhere she knew, away from prying eyes. She wasn't exactly famous over here—definitely not like she was in Korea, where it was impossible to get very far without a fan or a paparazzi taking photos—but all the same there were quite a few people who had come up to ask for an autograph already, and she'd prefer not to have to deal with that. But then she'd have to explain to her grandfather how she went from completely incompetent yesterday to Go-playing genius today, and she didn't think youtube would suffice as an acceptable answer this time.

So that just meant she'd have to opt for some kind of disguise.

"First things first though," Hikaru clapped her hands with a sparkle in her eye. "I need to change."

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Sai had clearly underestimated what a daunting task this would be.

Even growing up in the Heian era, where people wore far more clothing, did far more elaborate things with their hair, and had far more etiquette to remember, no one had ever taken this long. They certainly didn't have that many clothes to chose from, as a start, but Hikaru had so many tools in her beauty arsenal it was starting to make Sai's head spin.

He took the ample free time as an opportunity to observe the future in its natural element; Shindou Hikaru, pop star and idol.

She flittered about the room, holding elaborate garments in all assortments of styles up to her figure in the mirror, posed, and then threw them over her shoulder. Some looked effeminate, others complicated, and some just plain bizarre. It was clear the future had many different styles of attire—some more modest than others; absolutely none of them resembling anything Sai could recall.

Hikaru had decided on what she assured him was an 'out-to-do-errands look with enough casual street-punk to drown a Tokyo drift star' (whatever that meant) which constituted of black pants (leggings) and very, very white shoes with ribbons of some kind holding them together (sneakers) a hooded top (hoodie) and a black hat (beanie). She had a lot of words for things that already had words to describe them, Sai digressed. She also sung along to things that came out of that magical box of hers, and danced around the bathroom as she did her makeup. That, at least, Sai remembered.

From what Sai could understand, things had changed… a lot. And yet, Go was still played—still loved. This was more than enough to bring a bright smile to Sai's face. The future was more than he could have ever imagined, and Go still thrived.

By the time Hikaru pronounced that she was ready to go, Sai was worried they'd already missed most of the day. Hikaru assured him they had plenty of time, before hopping out of her room and down the elevator.

He was still casting wide eyes about the world when they finally made it down onto the street, Hikaru puttering about on that little box of hers.

Finally, she made a triumphant noise.

"Found it!" She grinned up at him. "It says here there's actually a salon nearby!"

"Says where?" Sai peered curiously over her shoulder, but the glare from the sun had made the glass light up until he could see nothing but white.

Hikaru waved him off. "I promise I'll explain to you the wonders of technology some other day," she assured, bounding away. "But right now, let's just hope it's right."

Sai leapt after her. "There's a chance it's wrong?" He asked with a gasp.

Hikaru, however, was no longer paying attention. Her focus was buried in that little device, and every once in a while she'd look up to confer street signs or landmarks. Sai decided that there must be some kind of map in there—moving paintings in one moment, directions the next… Sai could sufficiently say the future was more than he could have ever hoped. And they still played Go!

After a while wandering the streets, Hikaru eventually came to a stop in front of an unsuspecting office building, peering up at the signs outside. A dentistry, a few establishments she couldn't discern… she squinted. And yes! There was a sign for a go salon. Perfect.

"Here it is, Sai." Hikaru grinned. "A Go salon. You ready?"

"More than!" Sai clapped his hands.

Hikaru ducked inside, making her way down the halls until she found the salon. The inside was… nice. Relieving. Hikaru remembered many a go salon from her days being babysat by grandpa, and they all left much to be desired. In hindsight, that probably said more about her grandfather than it did the state of the go world. He would've picked somewhere that would have let him smoke inside, and somewhere all his old geezer buddies would be allowed to growl around and drink and smoke and debate moves. In other words, the last place he should be bringing his young granddaughter.

At any rate, this establishment was almost the exact opposite. Nice and big, and clean. It didn't smell like smoke, and there was a lovely, polite lady minding the counter who ushered her in when she saw Hikaru standing there dumbfounded.

"Hi," she greeted. "Is this your first time?"

"Erm—yeah, sort of. It's been a while." Hikaru replied, flushing. Or maybe more like one-thousand years.

The clerk took it in stride, nodding her head as she pointed at a binder below her. "Well, just write your name in here, and your rank… or, do you not know what your rank is?"

Hikaru shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't." She admitted. "But, I'm certain I'm very good."

She raised a brow. "Certain, huh?" She repeated, drily.

Hikaru had a feeling she was being patronized. "Incredibly." She bit out, miffed. The woman laughed at her, only annoying her further. In the clerk's defense, Hikaru wasn't exactly helping her argument. The woman probably she thought she was here to impress some boy or something like that.

"Well, you can leave it blank for now if you don't know." She stifled a giggle. "Why don't you find someone to play with? I can help you if you don't know anyone…"

After paying the fee, Hikaru looked around, wondering how difficult it would be to asks someone for a game. They all looked quite a ways older than her, but still friendly enough. Still, a great majority of them were already playing with friends, or crowded around someone else's game.

Finally a boy her age caught her eye. He looked like he'd been helping some of the other patrons out, leaning over their board as he spoke to them. He straightened, probably feeling someone's gaze on him, and turned around.

Realizing it was impolite to just stare, Hikaru waved. He tentatively waved back.

The clerk behind her made a strangled noise. "Oh. Well. That's—

But he was already coming over.

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"—You would have been better off playing a pincer here instead—" Touya Akira was in the midst of saying, placing a black stone to prove his point.

The two patrons beneath him made vague noises of comprehension. Wakakusa-san laughed heartily. "An excellent observation as always, Touya-sensei." He beamed. "Thank you for the help."

Akira bowed his head. "Of course."

He felt a prickle against his neck and he straightened up, wondering if someone else needed his help. He didn't mind when people called him over for the occasional teaching lesson, even though he normally came to his father's salon to be able to peacefully study kifu. But then, if he really wanted total silence without interruption, he was better off going home. However Akira tended to enjoy the low murmurs of other people around him; it made him feel… less alone. Unfortunately that came with the flip side of having customers come up to him asking him questions.

But the gaze he found was definitely not an elderly customer asking for his opinion or assistance.

For a long moment, Akira simply stared.

He knew it was impolite, but he had simply been caught off guard. In his defense she was… incredibly pretty. Pretty like the kind of girls at his school who only ever talked to themselves or the boys who played baseball—prettier, even. She had an aura of calm and confidence that he'd never quite seen on any girls his age.

Well, it was equally as impolite to simply stare at her from across the room, so with a steady gait he picked his way through the tables, making for the front entrance.

"Akira-san," Harumi greeted, looking a tad flustered. "This is, um—

"Hikaru," she stuck out her hand. "Shindou Hikaru."

He shook it. "Touya Akira."

"Right," Harumi laughed nervously. "So this is Shindou-san, and she's—

"I'm looking for a game." Hikaru talked over her, smiling. "Are you free?"

Akira wasn't used to girls being for forward normally, but actually it was a bit relieving. Half his problem with the girls his age was that he simply had no idea how to talk to them, and they were never very forthcoming.

"Sure, follow me."

"Bingo!" Hikaru cheered in her head. "Look at that Sai, easy, huh?"

Sai spared her a nonplussed look. "I think Hikaru has ulterior motives."

"What motives?"

"Bad motives," Sai pouted. "Picking the young, handsome boy…"

Hikaru laughed heartily. "Well, come on Sai, it's not fair if only you get to have fun!" She winked at her ghost. "At least this way we'll both be entertained."

Sai gasped, scandalized. "Hikaru! How improper…"

But Hikaru only continued to be amused. Sai had a lot to learn.

Touya led her to a table in the back, a bit removed from the noise of the rest of the parlor. She sat down curiously, realizing a bit belatedly that this was going to be the first game of Go she'd ever played.

"Is a four stone handicap alright?" He asked, as he removed the goke lids.

"Handicap?" Well for her, she'd probably need a hell of a lot more, and it was probably rather courteous of him to ask, but for Sai's sake she pretended to be affronted. "But we're the same age!"

"Well, right…" He looked caught of guard.

Hikaru rose a cool brow, smiling slyly. "You better not be trying to go easy on me because I'm a girl."

Touya flushed spectacularly. "I—I would never—

"Great!" Hikaru beamed. "So, no handicap is okay? Nigiri?"

He looked as if he wasn't sure how this conversation got away from him so quickly, nodding wordlessly. Hikaru chuckled to herself. Poor kid didn't know who he was dealing with here. Hikaru was the master of being manipulative.

Touya grabbed a handful of white stones, still looking a tad forlorn, if not sheepish. This, at least, Hikaru knew how to do; she put down two stones.

"Black," Sai noted, sounding delighted. "I've never lost with black!"

"But they didn't have komi back then, right?"

Sai stilled. "Ah… good point." He agreed, after a beat. "I had almost forgotten about that new rule, I was so excited to play. Yes, hm, this will certainly change things."

He'd lost Hikaru at that point, so she simply waited patiently for him to ponder.

"No matter," he shook his head, breaking his silence. "I think I still want to start with the diagonal."

"Diagonal—yeah, okay, sure. How do I play that again?"

Sai chuckled, tapping with his fan. "Put your first stone here."

Hikaru snuck a glance at Touya—he looked like he was trying to be patient, but was inwardly regretting his decision to play her. Don't worry, Hikaru wanted to say. I promise this game will get interesting. At some point. It might take a while, considering how many times Hikaru had double checked she'd played the stone at the right spot. But she had a feeling Sai was going to be utterly amazing.

Meanwhile, as Hikaru studied the board, Akira studied her.

She had started with Shusaku's diagonal, which had surprised him. It certainly wasn't a bad move, but it hadn't been what he'd expected. To that end, he wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting. Shindou was… not the kind of person who normally wandered in here. He found himself less interested in the game at hand and more at her—why was she even here? Maybe she was killing time between appointments; maybe she was waiting for someone else to show up, an uncle, or grandfather maybe; maybe she was meeting her boyfriend? Akira paused. Why was he even thinking that? At any rate, he couldn't quite figure it out. Maybe she liked playing Go; maybe she went around the city to all the different parlors, aimlessly challenging people.

Her joseki was outdated, but all the same she was a good player. Better than he had expected from his first impression of her. She was about as good as the girls in the Kaio Go club, who had sometimes come up to him after class or during lunch to ask him for a game. They stopped pretty quickly with that once they realized he was going to take them as seriously as he would anyone else.

He found his eyes wandering to her again. He didn't mean to, but his eyes found hers again. Her dark lashes were lowered, a strip of contemplative, focused green bright and burning beneath. She had really nice eyes, he found himself thinking, inanely.

Wow, this really wasn't like him. Akira shook his head, focusing back on the game.

Hm, should he let her continue her shape in the upper corner? He could block it now with a cut, but it might be better to let her…

Hold on.

He looked back down at the board.

Was he missing something?

And then she played a hand far out into uncharted territory, closer towards the bottom of the board. For a moment, he simply dismissed it as a poor move. But after further contemplation, he wondered if it was intentional or not. It wasn't a move he expected, really, it wasn't even a good move. But he couldn't understand her motivations. It wasn't helping her expand her territory, or fortify her shape. It almost seemed… arbitrary.

Had she played it accidentally? Was she trying to lay a trap?

Or maybe—

Akira looked up sharply. The girl's features gave nothing away.

Was she testing him?

Just who was this girl?

He felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck as his mind whirled through the possibilities. He dropped his stone back into the goke, his hands returning to his armrest as he mentally flickered back through the entire game. It couldn't be possible… had she been playing with him the whole time? Humoring him? Tutoring him? Was this shidou go?

It was true, she hadn't pressed the offensive at all. She'd fended him off, but not as aggressively as she could have. She'd let him control the pace, never once attempting to gain back sente. Her defense was, upon further inspection, perfectly deflecting him at every opportunity, but still she was responding, and he was still attacking. All the same, though he was winning, she was still holding him off from widening the gap. It almost felt like playing his father; like he was pushing against an indomitable force that wouldn't budge no matter what he did. It took all his efforts to get his father to go all out on him, otherwise he simply gently pushed Akira's advances, or shot him down outright. It wasn't that his father went easy on him—just as it was clear Shindou wasn't going easy on him either—he just didn't push the envelop anymore than he had to. Unless Akira forced his hand, there was no reason to.

He looked up at the girl again, gaze narrowing.

If that was the case, then he'd simply have to push her to show her true hand.

"Just what did you do exactly, Sai?" Hikaru thought curiously, as Touya continued to stare down at the board, looking like he had no intention of playing another move any time soon.

Sai smirked from behind his fan. "Oh, just gave him something to think on."

Hikaru spared the boy a noncommittal glance. "Huh." She shrugged. "Well, how is he? Any good?"

"He's very impressive, especially for his age." Sai replied. "I haven't quite figured out just how impressive—he's going easy on you."

Hikaru rolled her eyes. "Of course he is."

"To be fair, I haven't given him much adversity." Sai revealed. "I've only been testing him so far."

At that, Touya played another hand, lightning fast, the stone hitting the board with an audible smack. Both Hikaru and Sai's brows shot up at the passionate display. "I think he's done playing around." Hikaru noted, belatedly.

Sai chuckled. "Now we'll really see just how good he is. 14-14."

Hikaru nodded diligently, placing the stone where Sai had commanded.

After that, the game was on.

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"Hikaru,"

"Hmm?"

Even though she wasn't actually playing, she felt caught up in the excitement anyhow. Even without any knowledge of the game she could tell that this game had racked up in intensity, to the point it almost seemed tangible between them, thick and heavy in the air. Touya's laser sharp focus hadn't once left the board, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sai as well had gone quiet a few hands after their brief conversation, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. When he gave Hikaru commands, she couldn't decipher anything in his tone.

Sai snapped his fan shut. "It's time for you to resign."

Hikaru blinked in shock. "You lost?"

The ghost shrugged. "I really wasn't trying to win." He explained.

"You weren't?" Hikaru balked. "Then what were you playing for?"

Sai gasped. "There's more to Go then just winning or losing!" He lectured. He straightened up, huffing and folding his arms. "I was—teaching him, you could say. Evaluating him."

From a level far above him, went unsaid.

Hikaru sighed. Ah, well, guess it can't be helped then.

She dipped her head, just like she had seen in all the tutorial videos. "I resign."

She couldn't quite tell if she had done it right or not, because either way Touya seemed very surprised.

After a moment he recovered, his hand slipping away from his goke, where he had positioned it to retrieve another stone, as if anticipating another move from her. Just like that the spell was broken, and the determined, sharp features dissolved back into something sweet and polite. More than anything though, he just looked caught off guard.

"Thank you for the game." He answered on instinct, still looking surprised.

"You're—you're very talented." Touya added.

Hikaru blinked at him, her turn to be surprised. "Um, thanks. You know you won, right?" She pointed out with a laugh.

He looked at her carefully. "Yes, but…" He hesitated for a moment. "You were going easy on me." He accused.

"Was I?" Hikaru feigned ignorance, tilting her head. She laughed again at his pinched expression. "I wasn't, promise—I was just…" What had Sai said? "Testing you." She finished with a wink.

It successfully threw him off, a flush creeping up his neck. "Oh. Well. That's…" He seemed to be at quite a loss for words.

"You're very talented," she tossed back, assuming it was true. Sai had said as much already. "How old are you?"

"I'm turning sixteen soon." He answered, looking at a loss for words and very out of his element.

Hikaru brightened. "No way! I'm fifteen too! What a coincidence!" She grinned. "Are you still in school, then?"

"Um…"

Hikaru shifted in her seat some, trying to scratch her shoulder. The movement dislodged her phone from her pocket, and with a gasp she hastily swiped it off the floor. Her stomach twisted when she turned it on to see she had at least a dozen missed calls from her manager. Shit.

"Oh shit, why did I turn it on silent?" she bemoaned, mostly to herself. She should know better by now.

Whatever it was, it must be important. He never called this much unless it was.

"I'm so sorry," she looked up at Touya, genuinely apologetic. "I really have to call him back."

"Oh, that's," he blinked. "Sure, of course."

Hikaru smiled at him gratefully, before darting out of her seat and ducking through the other patrons to make it towards the front door. She didn't want to interrupt all the other players while she was on the phone.

The dial tone rang for a few seconds, before her manager picked up. He had been trying to get a hold of her about a schedule change. Upper management had called to say they were pushing their next tour a few weeks later. Normally this would be a bit relieving for Hikaru; more time to train, more time to sleep and keep regular hours like a normal human being and not an idol—except they were pushing it back for more marketing time, which meant Hikaru would be equally as busy regardless.

Hikaru sighed; first things first, her manager wanted her to get in contact with a small-time Japanese fashion blogger for a quick interview, as soon as possible. It wouldn't do for her to be sitting idle here.

So much for a vacation.

She shook her head. In the world of idols, there really wasn't any such thing. Without any hesitation she picked up the phone to confirm a time for their interview.

"Hi, is this Kei-san?" She greeted as the call connected.

"Um, yes. Might you be Shindou-san?"

Hikaru spent another couple minutes pacing up and down the relatively deserted hallway, conversing with the blogger. It didn't seem like it would be a long event, but she did want to meet with Hikaru as soon as possible, before she left for fashion week. Hikaru ended up penciling in a time later in the afternoon—she'd have just enough time to sprint back to her hotel, shower, and then get in a cab to the designated meeting place. If she was lucky.

Hikaru said her goodbyes, already feeling stressed.

"Hikaru is so busy," Sai noted, once she was done.

Hikaru nodded with a sigh. "Always." She groused.

Then she ducked back into the salon, making a beeline towards the boy still waiting for her at their table. She really regretted having to leave so soon; he was really quite cute. And she knew Sai was dying to discuss the game with him, so he probably felt something of the same.

"Touya-san?"

He looked up when she called his name.

"I'm really sorry, but it looks like I have to run." His expression fell a bit, but he nodded all the same.

"I see." He said, smiling slightly. "That's alright—thank you for the game."

She nodded. "Yeah, thanks for the game; it was great!"

With a wave, she bounded off, already checking her watch and cursing about the time.

.

.

.

Track 2:

Galaxy

Ladies Code

.

.

It wasn't until after that Akira cursed himself.

He had been so flustered by her he hadn't even thought to ask her for another match! How could he not, after this game? He could barely believe they were the same age; just who was she? How could she be so talented? And how had he never heard of her? Was she an insei? No… he would have at least heard of someone with that kind of power. Did she play for her school Go club? What school did she go to? He cursed himself again for not asking.

It only occurred to him after the fact that he didn't know a damn thing about her. He hadn't thought to ask.

He was really regretting that now.

How was he supposed to find her again?

.

.

.

Harumi sighed, finding herself at a loss. It was rare to see Akira both so passionate about something and so frustrated. Of course it had everything to do with a girl. She sighed again. She'd always thought she'd be his first crush, but the age for first crushes passed him by without even a hint of confirmation from Akira. There were never any girls, though not from lack of trying on their part. She'd picked him up a few times at school, only to see him conversing half-heartedly with a girl. He always looked both flustered and painfully awkward in those situations; it looked like this recent one was no different.

Of course, there had never been a girl that had made such a lasting impression on him either.

But that was to be expected, she thought. None of them had ever caught his attention with Go.

And this Shindou Hikaru seemed to have done a lot more than that.

Not that Harumi was surprised; she had been very pretty. Very trendy. Very nice, too. A perfect girl, in other words. And a little familiar, if Harumi thought on it deeply. But that might just be because she was wearing the cute clothes all the girls her age seemed to have, with that popular hairstyle they all seemed to have too. After a while they all seemed to look the same.

She turned her attention to the boy in question.

He was sitting in the same spot he had been for days, recreating the same game.

Harumi wondered what it was about the game—apparently, she had lost. She'd wandered over with the rest of the salon once the girl had left; there had been a lot of ribbing about the young master 'getting himself a girlfriend', a few questions on the nature of the game. It was close, but all the same she'd lost. That didn't seem to matter to Akria though; he was treating it like one of his Kisei league matches. Maybe there was something there that she just couldn't see.

Akira scowled to himself, playing the girl's pincer that had ruined his shape in the center.

The more he replayed the game, the more her true genius bled through. I was just testing you, she had said, so casually. At the time, he could see how she had been evaluating him, playing moves simply to see how he reacted—playing a game she had no intention of winning. Now though, he was beginning to realize the true extent of her words.

He was still having trouble believing in her existence.

The idea of someone his age being so powerful, maybe even more so than him, was an exhilarating one. He'd been uncontested for so long, rising through the ranks as a solitary presence. He'd assumed he'd only be able to find challenges from those above him—it had never occurred to him to stop and take a look around at those around him. There were no other pros his age that even came close. They weren't enough to make him stop and look.

Shindou Hikaru, though. She was more than enough.

He found his thoughts wandering from the game he had practically memorized these past couple days. His hand stilled above the board as it occurred to him that he had to find her. He couldn't… how could he have possibly let an opponent like her slip away?

To his surprise, this brief game was more than enough to completely make him forget about his loss to Ogata in the Honinbo league. A game like that—not to mention, Ogata's words to him after—would have been clouding his thoughts for months. They should have, and yet here he was not even a week later and he'd actually forgotten that it had even happened. And it had only taken one game.

Not even a game, really. The two couldn't be compared.

One of them was played in a title tournament, against the current Juudan. The amount of pressure and intensity felt in those games simply couldn't be replicated anywhere else, the stakes were just too high. The other game was played on a casual, unsuspecting afternoon; it wasn't necessarily a friendly game, but there was no title on the line here, no infamous, renowned player sitting across from him. Just a beautiful girl he'd never met before.

There were only so many times Akira could replay a game before even he began to get frustrated. He'd analyzed her hands back and forth, picked them apart as judiciously and rigorously as he had every other important game he'd ever played.

Yes she was talented, impressively so; yes she was a complete surprise. But that shouldn't be enough to captivate him so.

It was more than just her play. He found himself seized by this unquenchable thirst, this fervid need to redeem himself, one that rivaled what he felt towards Ogata right now. He hadn't taken her nearly as seriously as she warranted, and it showed. Just how much better would this game be if he had played her all out? Just how far did her genius run? He'd scratched the surface, and what he had found amazed him. Now he was eager to dive even deeper. Just how powerful was she?

Unfortunately, all these questions came without answer, so all he could do was run in circles.

The day found Akira staring listlessly out the window of his last class of the day, wishing to be anywhere else.

He was always very studious, but he had no intentions of overexerting himself with his academic studies when he had league matches to worry about. He still went, of course, and applied himself to all his classes, but he had no urge to extend further than that. Despite this he normally found school at least somewhat relaxing; a novelty these days, considering how many days he skipped due to matches. Today however, he couldn't find it in him to be relaxed—he felt on edge. There was so much restless energy inside him and he had no outlet for it.

Students poured out of the Kaio buildings once school was over, bemoaning the weather and the humidity.

Akira paid them no mind, dodging past crowds of strolling students as he made his way to the train station. Sometimes Ichikawa would pick him up if he was on her way, but a pipe had broken on a floor above them and the salon was closed for the day while the repairmen fixed the damage. He might have stopped by otherwise, spending his afternoon as he had all week; reconstructing his game with Shindou Hikaru.

He sighed. At some point, he was going to have to let it go. He had to start preparing for his games—the games that actually mattered. He would be playing in the Kisei main tournament soon; it would be a good idea to start reviewing the recent games of the pros he knew would be in it.

To Akira's misfortune, about halfway to the station the skies opened up with a thunderous clap. The foot traffic around him cried aloud in dismay, everyone scattering about for shelter in the face of the sudden downpour.

Akira ducked through them, finding relief under a deserted bus stop.

He let out a breath, sparing a surveying glance down at himself. It looked like he had saved himself just in time. His gaze traveled out into the abysmal weather, the rain pelted down onto the bus stop roof with a deafening thunder; through the streaks of rain a seething mist rose through the watery street lights, wandering about in place of the people.

He let out a long breath. Great.

He checked his watch, absently wondering just how long this shower would stay for. Hopefully it was just passing by. The traffic lights lit up in the onslaught of the downpour, the noise of irritated drivers fulminating even over the overbearing rain.

There was splashing from behind him, and then a drenched, hooded figure dove under the roof with him, heaving for breath.

"What a horrible rain."

Akira nodded his acquiescence, not really in the mood for small talk, but far too polite to ignore it. "Hopefully it stops soon."

"Too late." The figure bemoaned. "I'm already soaked."

He turned at that.

His breath caught.

A hand moved back to pull a soaking hood away from drenched blonde hair. A girl with striking features and remarkably green eyes stood beside him, dressed in workout clothes, halfheartedly shaking out water from her sleeves. She grimaced as she plucked an earbud out of her ear, the steady beat just barely audible above the rain and the traffic and the murmurs of people passing them by.

Shindou Hikaru rung out her limp ponytail with both hands, jumping out of the way of the ensuing waterfall that poured out.

"Shindou…"

She looked up then, bright green gaze catching his own. Her smile was genuine, but confused. Then a flicker of recognition passed her eyes. "Oh, Touya!" She greeted. "How are you?"

"You…" He couldn't quite believe this was happening, blinking at her in shock.

She looked him up and down. "You seem to have avoided the worst of it." She noted cheerfully.

"Good timing, I suppose." He found himself replying, despite his bewilderment.

Better than she even knew.

"I'll say." She laughed.

In spite of himself, Akira found himself just simply watching her. She didn't seem real, staring out into the endless sludge of Tokyo traffic, city lights casting against her face in glowing colors. Water clung to her lashes, she blinked a few times, until the droplets fell from her eyes like little diamonds falling to the floor.

"I've been looking for you." He blurted out.

For a moment, her expression didn't change. Then she blinked, turning to him. He flushed, only realizing after the fact how ridiculous that sounded.

"I mean—I just," he looked away, wondering if he could pass his flush off as a reaction to the humidity. It wasn't like him to be so… discomfited. He'd never felt so out of his element before. "I wanted to play you again."

"Oh." She said, after a beat. "Me too," she added, so casually. As if that didn't mean everything.

He turned back around at that. He thought on what to say, weeks worth of words rushing to the forefront of his mind. "I waited for you."

That was definitely not what he had intended.

"At the salon." He added. "I'm there almost every day. But you didn't return."

Shindou fidgeted, tugging at her waterlogged sleeve. "I've been busy." She hedged.

Akira hesitated. "Will you… would you come back?"

She shrugged. "If I can." Her smile was different, this time. Soft and nebulous. "I'm—I just, I have a hectic schedule."

He swallowed thickly. "Oh. I see."

This was very unlike him. Well, everything about this was unlike him, but in particular he was dumbfounded at his casual acceptance of this. He was never one to just let things happen—he pushed and shoved, aiming for his goals with a single-minded determination, and a willingness to move mountains to make them come to fruition. Yet he couldn't make himself do it now; he wanted to play her again, wanted a promise that she'd be there next time. But nothing came out.

When he chanced another glance at her, the smile had drifted away, as if it had wandered off in the gloom around them. Her eyes were lost in the distance. One of her hands was tangled in her headphone cord, winding it around.

Before he could stop himself, he was reaching for her hand. She startled at his touch, but made no move to take it back, even as he turned her palm over in his own.

He hadn't noticed before, but now it was clear as day. This wasn't the hand of a go player. Her hands were small and graceful, with long, perfectly manicured nails. There wasn't a single callous to be found on her palm.

"Um…"

After a beat, he released her hand, as she gently tugged it out of his grip. For a while, there was only the long, endless sound of rain.

"Have you ever thought of becoming a pro?"

Her gaze was incredulous at best. "No, never."

He frowned.

How could that be? Had no one ever told her just how talented she was?

"What about you?" She turned the question around. "Have you ever thought about it?"

"I already am." He didn't hesitate to answer.

Shindou's gaze flickered with surprise. "Oh."

"You could be too," he informed her. "You're more than good enough."

She smiled again, small and secretive. "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. What did she mean? Did she really not realize? He watched her deeply; she had turned away again, turned towards the washed out world outside their dry, diminutive universe, shifting restlessly in her shoes. Before he could reply, she spoke again, head tilted to the rain. "Do you want to play a game?"

He blinked, taken aback. "Right now?"

Her eyes slid towards him, smile turning coy. "What, you need a board, Mr. Professional?"

His eyes narrowed in challenge at that. "No." He replied, curtly.

"Good." She spun to face him, eyes alight with something like mischief. "Rock, paper, scissors for Nigiri? I get black if I win."

He'd never heard of something so ridiculous, but he did it anyway. It felt so surreal, standing here in the gloom with her, playing such a silly game. He couldn't believe this was happening. Like having a recurring dream turn into reality, it didn't quite feel like it was real.

"Black it is." She grinned victoriously, once her paper won over his rock. Her palm was surprisingly warm covering his fist, even though he was just holding it.

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.

.

To Touya's lack of surprise, Shindou started with Shusaku's opening on the komoku rather than the star point. He was more than prepared for that, ready for the diagonal thereafter that had surprised him so much during their first game. He did not intend to give her even an inch this time—he had a feeling Shindou was the kind of player who could hold onto that inch until the very end.

While that might have been true, he had no evidence to support this, because by the time he recalculated in his head how the points were adding up, he appeared to be winning. From a more pedantic modern view she was giving too much away, but considering the era of her joseki her forcing move in the lower left made sense. She left the upper left wide open, and he didn't intend to let that go to waste.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised by the brutish force she displayed to turn the tables on him, in desperate contrast to the contemplative and unhurried play she had shown in their first game. Almost as if she had, once again, allowed him to take the lead. Except this time, she had every intention of wrenching it back from him, systematically clawing it away from him until she could pry it out of his cold, dead hands. It was enough to make a cold sweat break out on his neck, despite the weather.

He had capitalized on the weakness of her outdated joseki, but he wasn't sure if it would be enough.

Without a goban to focus on, he found himself once again unwillingly ensnared in her appearance. Despite the brutal game tumbling in his head, he found his thoughts insensibly lingering on the most absurd of things; the way her hair curled in the afternoon rain, the flutter of her wet lashes, her mouth and the flash of white as she bit at her bottom lip. He dismissed them in favor of his own thoughts, even as he continued to focus in on her intensely.

Hikaru may have suggested playing a game like this, but she hadn't exactly expected this outcome.

It was one thing to have that penetrating gaze and laser-focus fixated onto a goban, and a whole other thing to have it fixated on herself. If she was actually the one playing this game, she doubted she'd be able to concentrate at all. His icy blue eyes were enough to give her frostbite; so profoundly centered on her it almost felt as if his gaze was burning.

"How's the game going, Sai?" She asked hesitantly, as she spoke aloud another point on their imaginary board.

"Well." He spread his fan over his face, eying Touya thoughtfully. "I have a thick territory advantage along the lower edge, but his move in the upper left was a good shape. However, his last move may have left his center a bit too thin."

Even when she could see it she found it hard to conceptualize—Hikaru didn't even bother trying to imagine in when there wasn't even a board to see in the first place.

"How good is he?"

"Very impressive." Sai replied immediately. "Such overflowing talent, and it is so refined and concise. Without a shadow of a doubt he is a professional—it wouldn't surprise me at all if he was on the cusp of winning a title or two."

Incredibly flattering words, coming from the patron Go Saint of the world, and the ghost who bemoaned a great majority of the future joseki they had seen during Hikaru's crash course on the last one hundred years or so of Go history.

"All the same," he continued, "It won't be enough."

Hikaru pulled her gaze away from the temperamental weather, back to the boy seated across from her. He certainly looked conflicted. The intensity in his eyes had not dimmed in the slightest, but his mouth was pursed as if his thoughts were warring against each other.

Akira cursed under his breath, reorganizing his thoughts once again as he contemplated his next move. He had built up a moyo of great potential in the center—there was no reason for him to be so dissatisfied, regardless of the territory Shindou had built in the top left corner. But the moment he played an attachment at 5-2 he realized immediately how needless it was. It was too small-minded of him; he only had ko threats in the top-right hand corner, but black could easily sacrifice its position there. And he ended up leaving himself completely vulnerable on his left flank.

At this point, black would not be deterred. Whatever lead he had would disappear with his precarious position in the center.

It was almost bitterly ironic; he had put so much effort into thinking through this game, and yet it hadn't even lasted half as long as his first.

They exchanged more hands at the bottom right; Shindou continued onwards, heedless of his traps. Could she truly be out reading him to such an extent, or was he simply that transparent? A few more exchanges, and he managed to stop her advancement into the center; he responds with a hane to her last probing move, expecting her answer at 15-16. He also expected her next move after that, playing a connection that was too severe for her to leave unanswered. In the following fight she took two of his stones, but he returned with taking five of hers; much to his frustration, sente returned to her though with her next move, forcing him to play in response to the danger of a cut.

By the time Akira came up for air and surveyed the board in full, he could see a few options unraveling before his eyes. None of them were as optimum as he would have liked, despite the steady defensive front he'd been working on. After a brief attack on black to settle the situation in the encroaching battle around the bottom edge, he managed to collect more points in the center, coming out of the battle with Shindou's shape still alive, but without much risk of intrusion.

To his calculations he may have won that fight, but the larger war was a different story.

He may have decent territory in the bottom right, but the vast majority of his potential territory was tied up in the center—and despite his best efforts, he didn't know if he would be able to secure it.

Akira's brow furrowed grimly. If he could read ahead enough to see the outcome, then so could Shindou. There was no point in drawing it out further.

"I resign."

He caught her gaze in the muted light, wondering what his own expression must look like. Her expression was difficult to read, soft but taciturn, studying him deeply. His must be even more confusing, because his own inner turmoil was so perplexing even he didn't know what to make of it.

On the one hand, he felt invigorated—there was a pleasantness floating in him that came from the simple joy of playing an especially challenging game. But there was a bitterness there too; this was a game he had no intention of losing. The two did not mix well together, and the end result was an emotion lost and forlorn.

"Thank you for the game." She demurred, holding his gaze.

But he had gotten his wish. He had played her once again, and Shindou did not disappoint. If anything, she had lived up to his expectations and then some.

.

.

.

In the face of his expression, Hikaru didn't know what to say.

"Sai… what did you do to him?"

The ghost said nothing for a long moment. "I played him with the strength he deserves." He replied, then.

But what does that mean? Hikaru thought, concerned. He looked devastated, and yet still composed. Hikaru couldn't quite tell if he felt disheartened or galvanized; maybe a bit of both. He still hadn't said anything, and Hikaru found herself equally at a loss for words. She had only been speaking numbers for what could have been the past hour, and yet her voice felt hoarse and overused.

She shifted uncomfortably, tearing her gaze away.

The rain had evened out into a gloomy drizzle; traffic continued unheeded. From the bright, watery lights painted down the street she assumed it must have gotten pretty late. She was fairly sure a bus had come and gone at some point while they were playing, without either of them getting on, or even acknowledging it at all.

"It stopped raining." She found herself saying, for lack of anything else to say.

Touya looked up at that, his eyes finally leaving her, as if he was pulling himself out of his own head to remember the world outside of it.

Hikaru stood, stretching out her legs as she threw her arms over her head, a tentative hand moving to her hair. It probably looked like a hot mess. She checked her phone, relieved to find there were no pressing messages.

"Where are you headed?" She asked, when it became clear he wasn't going to say anything.

"I—" He stopped. "Home, I suppose." He ended, complicated expression breaking into something sheepish.

Hikaru hummed. "By train?"

Touya nodded.

"We're going the same way, then." She smiled.

He followed her without a word as she turned around and walked out from underneath the shelter of the bus stop. It felt like a spell had been broken, crossing back out into the real world. People brushed past them as they walked side by side in silence.

"So… do you go to school around here?" Hikaru asked, feeling a bit lame with the attempt at conversation, but she'd noticed he was wearing a school uniform, and found herself curious.

The question went unanswered for long enough that she turned to look at him.

"Hm? Oh, sorry," he shook his head abruptly, as if clearing his thoughts. "I'm still… a bit stuck on our game. Yes, I go to school nearby."

"It's okay, me too." She assured him—at least, it seemed that she should be, from how unusually quiet Sai was being. "You're still in school, even if you're a professional go player?"

"I don't intend on continuing after graduation." He explained in answer.

"I see." Hikaru said. "So you're doing both, huh? It must be hard."

Touya looked down. "I suppose so." He replied, modestly.

An understatement, most likely. Her eyes trailed down the long stretches of window displays, the bright signs and lights sprinkling onto the wet ground like diamonds. She knew how difficult it could be to pursue a career while still in school. Her life as a trainee was a never ending cycle of exhaustion and lassitude; always one step from burning out, nothing but determination and drive keeping her moving. The life of an idol wasn't any less exhausting—the fatigue could be crippling at times, but it felt like it was worth it, to do what she wanted to do. Hikaru was sure Touya felt the same—like all the unending hours and hard work were all worth it in the end.

Hikaru tore her eyes away, returning her attention to her companion. "So what do you do, exactly?" She found herself asking, curiously. Sai did not have much to illuminate on the subject, seeing as though his experience was woefully outdated. Hikaru doubted they were still playing castle games, after all. "As a professional go player, I mean."

"I play games with other professionals, compete in tournaments to win titles; I also teach, and commentate on other's games sometimes."

"Titles?" Hikaru repeated, making a face. "Oh! Like Honinbo?"

"Yes, like Honinbo." Touya agreed, thoughtfully. "Your favorite player, Shusaku, held that title once."

"Huh? Favorite?"

Touya looked taken by surprise by her confusion. "Well it's just—you favor his opening, and his diagonal." He explained hastily.

"Oh." She smiled abashedly. "That, yeah."

"Do you not… know what titles are?" He asked, uncertainly.

"Um, well, I know who Shusaku is."

Touya stared at her blankly. How could someone so amazing not know something so basic? It was as if she knew absolutely nothing about Go at all—which was absurd, considering her skill level.

Their last fight before his resignation was still fresh in his mind. Her complex style spoke of antiquity, and yet it was surprisingly refreshing. The game still swirled in his head, as if waiting to burst at the seams. What did it matter, in the grand scheme of things, if she didn't know much about the professional scene? Her Go was more than enough. All of a sudden he was itching to write it down, to see it on a real board, not just as floating clusters and sequences in his head.

He turned to her, wanting to ask her a thousand questions all at once. But what came out was, "Are you busy right now?"

"Right now?" Shindou blinked. "Not really; I was just gonna get some food and take a shower."

"The Go Salon is closed today for renovations, but my parents are out of town. There's food on the way there."

She was looking at him blankly.

"I'd like to… discuss the game with you." He ended, hoping he wasn't coming off to strong, but wanting her to agree all the same.

She appeared to be pondering this, gaze tilted up into the overcast sky. The night was stormy and purple, an impenetrable mask that made time seem meaningless.

"Sure." She said, to his great relief. "It's not far, is it?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

It didn't occur to him until after they'd gotten off the train, picked up food, and headed to his house that he'd never had friends over.

People came to his house all the time, for study sessions and teaching games and whatnot, so it wasn't as if he wasn't used to entertaining. He wasn't sure if Shindou could really be called a 'friend'—and she was coming to discuss a game, so maybe she wasn't all that different than anyone else who came over. But they were alone here, with his parents gone for the evening in another prefecture for one of his father's matches, just the two of them.

"It's very pretty," Hikaru noted, eyes big and bright as she studied the solemn gardens.

"Thank you," he replied, awkwardly, distracting himself with fishing for his keys. It wasn't as if he had anything to do with the landscaping. Or the house, really.

He led her to his room, so they could play Go and eat at the same time. Otherwise they would have to eat in the kitchen or living room, as they couldn't eat in the study. Shindou didn't seem bothered by this at all, even as Akira spared a wary glance around his room, picking up all the little blemishes; a dress shirt thrown over his desk chair, shoes by the door, kifu strewn messily over his desk. She spared a cursory glance around the room, before plopping in front of the goban, making grabby hands for the bag of takeout.

She made a noise of happiness as she unearthed her dumplings. She bit into the dough with one hand, wielding a go stone in the other. "Hmm," she mumbled around her mouthful. "Where did I start again?"

Shindou hummed, before placing her stone at 3-4. "Ah. That's right."

Akira folded himself across from her, dipping into the white goke to retrieve a stone of his own.

They recreated their game together as they ate, Shindou far more enthusiastic about that than he was. He eventually fished out his own bowl of noodles, peppering the silence with occasional questions, more interested in the game then the food. Why did she defend here, instead of there? Why the atekomi instead of the obvious atari? His questions came faster as they launched past the beginning of the game, when the pace of the game switched hands.

The feeling of seeing a game living inside of his head spiral out onto the goban was beyond words. Somehow, in the abstract the intangibility of it had left him without as much appreciation as the game rightfully deserved. He may have resigned, but he could be proud of this game. Despite the handicap of playing without a board, they both played incredibly.

"I shouldn't have used the keima here," he murmured, placing the stone down. It was a costly rookie mistake.

"Why do you say that?"

He looked up at that, suddenly realizing that Shindou was no longer seated across from him. She had sprawled out more comfortably a while ago, but now she was slumped on the ground, head pillowed in her arms.

"Shindou…"

"I'm fine." She said, smiling with her eyes closed.

His brow furrowed. "But, you—

"I can play just fine from here, promise." She assured him good-naturedly. She paused for a moment. "I don't think it was a bad move at all. Maybe the one-point jump is considered more offensive but that would have left you open for the cut-through on the left."

He stared down at the board, dumbfounded. Maybe she didn't need to see it after all. Then again, she did beat him soundly without even needing a board.

"I see." He said, thoughtfully. She had a point. "What would you have done in my place?"

Her eyes fluttered a bit, but stayed closed. "I don't think I would have approached the shape like that at all. Not that yours was bad—I just don't think I would."

"What would you do, then?"

She yawned. "Do you mean, how would I have defended that territory in the first place? To start I wouldn't have responded to black's pincer. I would have…" She yawned again. "Played a tenuki, drawn black's attention elsewhere."

"A tenuki?" He repeated, gaze drifting back down to the board. Interesting. It wasn't in his instincts to let a battle slide like that, but at this point in the game it might have been a better play.

And if that was the case… yes, if he had taken the blow there—a smaller one, perhaps one or two points—he could have secured his position across the board with a thicker shape, which would have greatly helped him later. And at that point, he could have kept his superior shape in the center and returned to attack this area, changing sente back into his hands, forcing Shindou to defend. It was a plan quite unlike him, but one that would have worked very effectively.

"Yes, I see…" he murmured, continuing the train of thought. "A shape like that would have put me in better form for the later battle in the center."

He set more stones down, the clack of the pieces against the board the only sound aside from Shindou's rhythmic breathing.

"But it's a bit riskier than I would like…" He added. "It leaves a dangerous gap that could be exploited."

And then, as an afterthought. "I suppose it would just be a risk you'd have to be confident taking." And Akira had a feeling Shindou had more than enough confidence in her abilities to do so.

Akira hummed thoughtfully. "What if instead of either, white had played an extension?"

When she didn't answer, he looked up.

"Shindou?"

This time, Shindou was fast asleep. Maybe she didn't have any trouble keeping up with the game and his thoughts even without her sight, but it looked like she'd fought a losing battle with sleep.

He sighed, smiling over her with an emotion that felt oddly like fondness. It was strange to think he'd been thinking on her nonstop for days and now she was right in front of him. She had a way of casually blowing all his expectations, he was noticing.

"Shindou, you can't sleep there." He told her gently. When she only made a sleepy noise of commiseration, he wondered what he ought to do.

Well, obviously he couldn't just leave her there. Should he call her a cab? But that almost seemed rude—he didn't want her to think he was kicking her out or anything. Maybe it might be easiest just to let her sleep here. But what should he do? Move her to the guest bedroom? Would she even wake up?

He found himself staring down at her sleeping form, wondering all sorts of ridiculous things about her.

Finally Akira shook his head, climbing to his feet. Perhaps it would be best just to grab the spare futon and roll it out next to her. He might not have much luck getting her to move rooms, but getting her to roll over onto it had merit.

.

.

.

She was awake before him.

There was a respectable amount of space between their futons, and it wasn't as if anything untowardly had happened, but all the same he woke up feeling vaguely embarrassed.

"Hey," Shindou looked over to him, when she noticed he was awake. She put her phone down from where she had been sitting up scrutinizing it closely. "Sorry I crashed here." She apologized, grinning sheepishly.

"Oh, it was no problem." He assured her, getting up. He couldn't believe he'd slept so soundly with someone he didn't know right beside him. For all he knew, she could be a secret serial killer. That sounded rather implausible, but the fact remained she was pretty much a total stranger.

Shindou pulled a face, looking down at herself. Even thinking of touching her while she was asleep, let alone taking off her jacket or changing her into more comfortable clothes had made him flushed in the face, so she was still in yesterday's attire. At the very least, it appeared to be dry now. "Wow, I'm gross." She commented with a laugh.

"You can use the shower, if you like." He offered.

"Is that alright?"

"Sure—I'm sure I could find… something for you to change into." Although he had no idea how he would manage that.

This was how the morning found them in his kitchen, Shindou lounging in a chair at the table while Akira reheated leftovers from last night, dressed in her leggings from last night and one of his shirts, braiding her wet hair. The both of them were quiet aside from occasional questions rehashing some of her moves from their game. He had thought that playing her one more time would be enough; just one game, a redemption of sorts. But now all he could think of was another one. And then another after that, and another. He felt he hadn't even explored the shallows of her mind, wondering just how deep it went.

The microwave dinged, and he moved to open it as he set aside both their tea. Shindou had expressed a distaste in coffee—she said she only ever used it in dire circumstances, much to his amusement—but had no opinion on tea flavors, so he'd used whatever his mother kept around. She was humming something under her breath, checking her phone.

Whatever it was, it occupied her attention conclusively, her fingers darting over the screen.

It occurred to him then that she might have had plans for last night that he had total derailed. He certainly didn't regret it, but he did feel somewhat abashed.

"Are you… late for something again?" He hazarded, remembering how they had gotten cut off last time. "I'm sorry. I should have checked if it was alright with you before I offered—

"It's fine." She cut him off with a smile. "Thanks." She grabbed her cup from his waiting hands.

It was a quiet breakfast, but not uncomfortably so. There was something effortless and easy about Shindou's presence; a benign collectivity that came from an internal confidence. When people were uncomfortable with themselves it always tended to manifest in some subtle, unconscious way—at least to Akira, who was an expert at reading other people. He always managed to inadvertently pick up on that sort of thing; during games he utilized it to his advantage, but outside of matches it always made him feel unsettled. But Shindou's aura felt calm and impenetrable.

She asked him about his professional matches, exhibiting a deep fascination with professional go. It was disheartening, actually, knowing she was so interested, even if she had no intentions of becoming a professional herself. All the same he didn't mind discussing it. It was interesting, actually, conversing about his games and tournaments and having to explain things he normally wouldn't need to with his other peers.

"So are you in a tournament right now?" She asked curiously, swiping the last of the shrimp dumplings as she did so.

He put his tea down. "I was in the main Honinbo tournament," he answered, surprised by the lack of bitterness in his voice. His loss to Ogata had been a point of contention for a while now. "But I have the final round of the preliminaries for the Kisei league, and after, I start the preliminaries for the Meijin."

"Sounds busy." Shindou remarked, raising her brows. "But exciting."

Akira smiled a bit at that. "It should be, once it proceeds into further rounds."

"Not challenging enough for you yet?" She grinned cheekily.

"Finding challenging players is difficult." He looked at her deeply at that. "Difficult, but worth it."

She must have realized he was referring to her, looking away. Akira was a bit surprised to see a blush creeping onto her face; he hadn't done it intentionally, he was just being honest.

When he opened his mouth again, he'd made up his mind. He was being honest, she was a worthy player, and he would do whatever he could to keep her. This wasn't the sort of talent he could simply walk away from without trying his hardest to keep.

A noise interrupted him, startling them both.

For a moment he didn't recognize what it was. Then he identified the rattling noise as the key to the front door—eyes widening.

His parents were home.

Early.

Shindou looked just as caught off guard, eyes as big as his. They both froze. There was no amount of quick thinking that could save him; his mother was calling his name, voice traveling closer. It didn't take her long to find him.

He met her gaze on accident, as she appeared in the doorway, followed quickly by his father. She looked about as surprised as he felt at the scene that greeted her.

Shindou, at least, did not seem shell-shocked into immobility. She leapt to her feet, turning around to face his parents.

"H—Hello," Hikaru stuttered, looking about as mortified as Akira felt.

Akira had never seen his mother look so shocked before. He wanted to bang his head on the table and die of mortification. "Hello," Akiko recovered herself well. "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Akiko, Akira's mother."

"Shindou Hikaru," she bowed hastily. "Sorry to intrude, um, we were staying up late recreating a game and I accidentally fell asleep…" She tugged nervously at the bottom of her shirt—his shirt, he noted with mortification.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. I hope Akira was a good host." His mother replied, smiling.

"Yes, absolutely. It was very kind of him to let me stay over." She laughed lightly. "But on that note, I really ought to get going… "

"Are you sure? You're welcome to stay for longer, it looks like you two were in the middle of breakfast."

"Oh, thank you for the offer, but we've about finished up." She smiled. "It was great to meet you both."

He wasn't sure if it was possible for this situation to get any more painful. His mother looked befuddled and confused, his father stoically silent. She bowed to both of them again before rushing through her goodbyes and making a mad dash for the front door—Akira didn't blame her, he wanted to do the same.

In the ensuing silence, Akira took a resigned breath.

"Akira," his mother turned to him, with a light scolding tone. "You could have at least mentioned you were having a friend over."

"I'm very sorry mother," he apologized profusely. "I'm afraid I hadn't intended on it. We had played a game without a board earlier in the day, and I wanted to recreate it and record it. At that point it was already so late; it seemed rather impolite to make her leave."

It was testimony to Akira's profound maturity that both his parents took this explanation at face value. Not that any of it was a lie, but even to his ears it sounded unrealistically convenient.

"Oh, she's a go player?" With that out of the way, his mother's expression had done a total one-eighty. She looked rather ecstatic. "How wonderful! Does she go to your school?"

"No, she doesn't." Now that he thought about it, Akira had no idea where she went to school.

Akiko tilted her head. "Where did you two meet?"

"At the go salon," he answered promptly. "She came in and asked for a game. But she had to leave before I could ask for another. Fortunately we ran into each other yesterday."

"I see." She said, eyes twinkling. "Well, she seemed like a very nice girl. I hope you invite her over again."

"Yes…" He trailed off, wondering if his face was really doing this admirable of a job imitating a tomato or if it was just in his head.

.

.

.

"Well, that was interesting." Hikaru laughed as she wandered to the main road, hailing a taxi.

"Was it really okay to just leave like that?" Sai wondered aloud, worried.

"Better that than the alternative." Hikaru laughed some more, shaking her head.

It was probably for the best that his parents had come home when they did—she had been at a loss as to how to politely take her leave. More than that though, she had actually felt reluctance at the thought. She liked Touya; he was such a gentleman, and certainly a sight for the sore eyes. If he hadn't told her he was a professional go player, she wouldn't have been surprised to hear he was an idol too. Hikaru sighed. Man, not even plastic surgery could get you features like that.

And anyway, Hikaru wasn't exactly up to playing nice with the parents right now. She didn't have much time left on her vacation, and no time at all for relaxing.

She planned out the rest of her day in her head—first off, she had to go back to her hotel and change. Alternatively she could hit the gym or the studio for a bit, since her workout yesterday had been waylaid by the weather. She had a call with management in the early afternoon, and an interview with a magazine editor to prep for. For some reason, Hikaru didn't really feel like doing any of that right now.

"Excuse me," she leaned over the front seat. "Would it be alright if I changed the destination?"

"Sure," the cab driver replied. "Where to?"

"Hey Sai, what do you think of another game?"

The ghost gasped in delight. "Really?"

"Yeah—why not?"

Hikaru focused back on the driver. "Know of any Go salons around here?"

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