.

.

.

Hikaru felt her chest constrict upon itself, and she had no idea why. She looked around the room, all the grave, determined faces around her. Her heart started to beat faster, a tattoo against her ribs, feeling as if it would burst. Her throat felt as if it was full of rocks; her hands were shaking.

"Hikaru?" It was Nase. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." She answered stiffly, though this was clearly not the case.

The girl let her off the hook though, probably because she had nerves to deal with of her own. This was ridiculous—was Hikaru really nervous? She wasn't even the one playing, she had nothing to be afraid of. She shook her head; not, it wasn't that. She wasn't afraid of the match, not like everyone else in the room.

She was afraid of something far worse.

"Hikaru?" Nase turned around again, when it was clear Hikaru wasn't following her into the room.

"I—I—" Hikaru swallowed thickly. "I need some water."

And then she was bolting out the door, down the hall, running at full sprint even though she didn't know where she was running to.

Finally her feet took her down a corridor without anywhere else to go but out, and then she was barreling out the fire exit, standing in the cool, dewy morning air. Her chest was heaving, like she had just sprinted a 100 meter dash (maybe not a complete exaggeration), and she was still shaking. What was she doing?

Was she really going to through with this?

Her chest seemed to grow even smaller, and then she was leaning against the brick wall, staring sightlessly out into the prowling mist. What an ugly day, she thought, idly. Was it going to rain again?

She thought of nothing for what seemed like an eternity, gazing upon the world in the silence of the still air.

Finally she was jolted out of her musings, when the door beside her opened abruptly.

A very familiar, tall figure had just stepped out, and was sparing her a surprised look.

"Ogata-sensei…" She began slowly, tactfully.

He eyed her warily. "You're not smoking out here, are you?"

Hikaru blinked, suddenly aware that she had exited the side exit, probably a usual haunt for the habitual smokers of the Go World, judging from all the crushed cigarette butts scattered about her feet. That, and the Go Professional lighting up in the foggy, gloomy morning.

"No." She replied, and then, flatly. "I'm only sixteen, sensei."

He only shrugged. "There's a lot worse you can get up to at that age."

She wasn't sure what to say to that, so she only crossed her arms. Behind her, Sai was yelling in outrage. What are you trying to insinuate about my Hikaru-chan, huh?-!

I don't think he's trying to offend me, personally, Sai. Hikaru thought, exasperatedly. I think he's just somewhat offensive in general.

Ogata seemed to get a good look at her then, for he pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and let out a drag into the cold morning air, before turning to study her unnervingly.

"Who are you, again?"

"I'm an insei." She explained, wondering what would be the most polite way to back out of this conversation without going back into the Institute. The idea of going back in there right now…

"You look familiar…" He soldiered on, clearly not to be deterred. Hikaru frowned, but held her ground against the studious glare. "Are you a friend of Akira's?"

"Touya-kun?" She parroted. "Yes, I'd think we were friends."

"A girl…?" He said aloud, but it seemed mostly to himself. And then, with a blink of what could have been surprise, "You're Shindou."

It wasn't a question, so Hikaru didn't answer.

He took another drag, before putting it out with the scrape of his shoe. He turned to her again. "Aren't you supposed to be taking the Pro Exam?"

She flinched, not answering that one either. Sai was a silent presence, but Hikaru felt like she could feel his eyes burning at her back.

"You're not taking it." And then, he frowned. "No, that's not it. You are. You're just not going to your match? Why? It's the first one, isn't it?"

Even if she wanted to, Hikaru didn't know how to answer that. How to explain that overwhelming pressure she'd felt walking into that room, the terror that had raced through her veins. Not at the prospect of playing the game—hell, she didn't even play any of them—it was that trapped feeling, like all the walls were closing around her, suffocating her.

So, she didn't say anything at all.

Ogata seemed to take her silence at length, drawing from it his own conclusions.

She doubted he'd get to the right one.

Because she didn't even know it.

"Play me."

At this, she broke out of her reverie. "I'm sorry?"

"Well, you're obviously not playing a game right now." He pointed out wryly. "So you have nothing better to do. Play me."

She shot a quick look to the door behind them. "But—

"Not here, there's a salon a block down."

She hesitated, before swallowing. Why not? "Alright."

Hikaru wondered vaguely if this would somehow make it up to Sai. After all, it was probably a lot more challenging for the ghost to play an experienced professional than some novice taking the exam for the first time. Surprisingly though, he wasn't loudly ecstatic. Instead he plodded along behind her; not sullen, but not particularly enthusiastic either.

Ogata led her around the corner, far enough for the Go Institute to fade obscurely into a block of similar looking buildings. She'd certainly been into better look Go parlors, that was for sure. She couldn't even imagine a man of Ogata's stature walking into a place like this, but the woman behind the counter greeted him with a familiar exasperation.

"Sit," He motioned towards a table not too far from the doors, lit with sun from the windows.

She moved hesitantly, feeling awkward and out of place. Ogata had turned to the carafe, where he had begun to liberally pour himself caffeine that sort of smelled like liquid kerosene. Sai was a heavy and salient presence by her side, silent and unmoving. She wanted to say something, but she had no idea how to break the tension between them. Hell, she couldn't even come up with a logical explanation for why she'd run out of there in the first place.

"Coffee?" Ogata called, diverting her attention from her thoughts.

"Oh," She shook her head. "No, thank you."

He shrugged. "Your loss." And sauntered over to the table, setting the cup down with great finality.

He appraised her with dark, indeterminable eyes. "Nigiri?"

"Sure."

She drew a fistful of stones into her palm; the Juudan placed two down in response.

Black, then.

It didn't appear that he'd heard all that much about her—or at least if he had, he didn't put much stock into the rumors. She hesitated as she pulled a stone between her fingers, and almost on instinct did she draw her hand to the board.

She only stopped when she realized she was making for the upper left star point, and then wondered what the hell she was doing. She paused, disoriented and confused.

She shook her head. Sai…?

Hmmm? The ghost returned, distracted. But then whatever appeared to have caught his attention returned it. Ah, yes. Let's start with the upper left.

She placed it down with no small amount of hesitation, wondering how she could've predicted the ghost's thoughts.

Ogata did not appear to notice any of her anguished mental debate—rather, if he had, he probably chalked it up to a young insei taking her first move against such a valued player seriously. Hikaru snorted. As if she'd ever put that much thought into go.

Still, that wasn't to say she wasn't aware of things about the game. Perhaps not the game itself, but she could tell when a move was particularly challenging, or a strategy very complex. Not from Sai—it was always very difficult to tell what Sai thought about a move, mainly because he always seemed to have a plan for everything. His opponents, however, were often easier to read. Especially when they were concentrating on the board, and not masking their emotions.

Ogata's expression went from bored, to somewhat disinterested, to surprised, and now, finally, invigorated. He was staring at the stones as if he'd never seen them before. For perhaps the first time in her life, Hikaru was actually curious a to what had caused that.

What'd you do to him, Sai? She asked her ghost, as the time Ogata took in debating his next move reached five minutes.

Sai hid his smile behind his fan. Ah, well… he thought his cluster at the bottom right was well protected.

Her eyes lowered to the pieces in question. It didn't look like much, but a creeping of black had begun to seep in from the right had side of the board. It didn't look like much now, but for some reason, she had a sinking suspicion that the few insignificant black stones could grow into something more formidable.

Can he save them?

Perhaps. Sai shrugged. But he'd have to give up territory in the upper right.

She smiled, slightly. How very tricky of you, Sai.

He laughed. Well, that's what he gets for underestimating me!

Hikaru wondered if the outcome of the game would have been the same even if Ogata hadn't underestimated her. With Sai, it was hard to tell. Not to mention she wasn't exactly the most informed source to make an educated decision. Ogata stared down at the bored, looking a very complicated mixture of awed, disappointed, and inspired. Not for the first time, Hikaru wondered what it was that could inspire such a look. She had seen it happen to a lot of people; to Yeongha, to Touya, to Waya, no matter how many times they played, to Suyong…

"I resign," he said at length, leaning back in his chair.

She bowed her head low. "Thank you for the game."

Ogata snorted. He pulled out a pack of camel golds from his pocket, drawing one to his lips as his other hand came to light it. Ah. Now she knew why he came to a go salon like this. It was probably the only one in the city that still allowed smoking indoors. The mystery of the kerosene smell was now solved.

He shook his head. "How old are you?"

She shrank back a bit. "I just turned sixteen," She said, in a small voice.

If anything, he looked more put upon. "Sixteen," He muttered, looking away.

He took a long drag of his cigarette.

"Fuck," He said then, eloquently.

He contemplated her with an odd look. "Where did you learn to play like that?"

She stilled suddenly, unable to form a quick response. No one… had ever asked her that before. It was strange to think; everyone she'd met was quick to take her and her unrealistic skill level at face value, perhaps unable, or just unwilling to question the source of both her motivations and her abilities. Even Yeongha, who had been curious about her and why she played in the first place, had stopped questioning once they had begun to play in earnest.

She waited hopelessly for Sai to come up with a response. It didn't matter: even if he did, it would be really hard to explain to Ogata that the emperor from the Heian period had wanted her (or Sai) to become his go tutor.

"My grandfather," She blurted; the first thought to come to her head. "He was a big… uh, a big fan of um, Shuusaku. So I… read a lot of his kifu."

"Shuusaku?" Ogata repeated. He took another drag, rubbing his chin. "Ah, well, I can certainly see that."

Really? Because she couldn't. She was only parroting what people had told her before.

"At any rate, you're quite talented," He noted, though when he said it, it didn't actually sound much like praise.

"Thanks," She returned, equally as dispirited.

"You also look like you'd rather shoot yourself in the foot than go back into the go institute."

She looked up in alarm.

"That's not…" She floundered. "I just—I was really nervous."

"Over what?" He scoffed. "Those insei? Listen kid, if you can beat me, then I'm fairly sure you and I both know that none of them are going to pose any problem for you."

"Who said anything about it being competition related?" She shot back, annoyed that he was already trying to psychoanalyze her. What did he care, anyway?

"Then what are afraid of?" He snorted again. "The kitchen staff?"

"No!" She frowned, illogically growing angry.

"Then what?"

"It's a big deal, okay?" She huffed, drooping in her seat and crossing her arms. "A big decision. I just… I dunno."

It felt strange to admit that out loud. She'd sort of just been dragged along by the current ever since she'd gotten back to Japan—just sort of allowing everyone to drag her into the gravitational center of Go. She hadn't even realized it until recently, opening her eyes to the situation before her, to the path she was inevitably leading herself to.

"Do you not want to be a professional go player?" He asked, observing her closely.

"N—No! I do," she answered quickly, maybe too quickly. She looked away again. "I'm just—I've always been indecisive."

The Juudan was watching her with unveiled curiosity. Hikaru had no idea why she was explaining this to him of all people.

"I moved to Korea, out of the blue one day, because I decided I wanted to study there. I don't know why I did that. I came back a year later, because I'd found another International school here that was far less complicated to attend. I… picked up Go out of nowhere too. Just one day… decided to learn." That was a very succinct way of putting it, but she wasn't about to explain how she found this ghost in her grandfather's shed. "And a lot of people told me I was very good, that I should try to become a pro, so…"

She shrugged helplessly. "Here I am."

For a long moment, the Juudan did not say anything.

Then he took another long drag of his cigarette, exhaling deeply. "Ah, escapism," he said, drily. "I see your problem."

She blinked, looking up abruptly in surprise. "You do?"

He spared her a smile, but it was not a particularly happy one. "I've encountered my fair share of it," he answered, evasively. "Becoming a Professional Go player isn't the be all, end all of life, you know. You don't have to be a Proessional player for life, you know."

Hikaru's mouth opened. "You… you don't?" Because it sure as hell seemed like everyone she knew was deadest on forever being a professional go player.

"Of course not." He snorted. "I became a pro when I was your age, you know. I was very good at go, and didn't see any reason not to be one. After a while I wondered why the fuck I was doing this." He paused. "It was the Meijin, actually, who suggested going on hiatus and maybe returning to school."

"R—really?"

"It's not one or the other," he pointed out. "Most people see it that way, but if you're set on attending higher education, there's no reason you can't do both. I don't know why you'd make yourself go through so much trouble, but if that's what you want, it's not as if you're not allowed to."

"Oh," Hikaru said softly, thoughts whirling around in her head.

Taking the pro test had seemed like… walking to her death bed, or something. As if the walls had closed in around her and this was the only option she had: forever. But Ogata-sensei was right. Why did it have to be that way? Why did she have to give up her entire life for this? It wasn't a death sentence, and it wasn't for eternity. There was nothing stopping her from one day deciding she didn't want to do this anymore.

The thought was… incredibly reassuring.

Ogata eyed her skeptically. "That's all you have to say?"

She nodded, smiling brightly. "Yeah. Thanks a lot, Ogata-sensei."

He spared her an incredulous look. "You're… welcome?" He hesitated, wondering what it was exactly that made the girl go from sullen and miserable to excited and perky.

She leapt up, moving to put away her go stones before he stopped her with a wave of his hands. "Leave it," he told her lazily, not wanting to let this game go to waste. He had a feeling he would be here for quite some time, studying the genius locked in this gridlock of stones.

"Alright." Hikaru nodded, hesitantly. "Well, I'm going to go now."

"Back to the pro test? You probably already lost."

She shrugged. "What's one loss, anyway?" She had no doubts she would win every other game. Judging from Ogata's smirk, he thought the same. "No—I'm going to go shopping."

He definitely hadn't expected that. "Really?"

"Yeah. My friends are going, but I had the pro test so I said I couldn't go…" She grinned. "But if I leave now I can probably catch up to them. Anyway, thanks for the game, Ogata-sensei, and the advice!"

And then she was off in a whirlwind of bright blonde hair, leaving the pro blinking rapidly in her wake. He took another idle drag of his cigarette. "No," he said at length, looking down at the board, long after she'd left. Thank you."