By freee

Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go

Author's notes:

First of all, this is my very first story. I'm not sure where it's headed yet, but for now

some ideas swirl around in my head and I hope I can implement them into many chapters.

The storyline won't be completely different from the original one, but I took the liberty of changing times, places and age differences - and well, I tried to maintain the character's personalities as represented in the manga, but it might slightly differ.

Btw, since English is not my mother tongue, I'm afraid mistakes are going to be unavoidable, so please bear with me. =) and most importantly: R&R!

Prologue

"Hell, judging by the dust, no one seems to have been inside here for at least 10 years!"

Sneezing because he'd inhaled the dust to deeply, 14 - year old Hikaru wiped his watery eyes. He had finally decided to go through the things in grandpa's old shed - not that he expected to find anything of value since grandpa used to collect all kinds of useless things. He already eyed one of the big boxes in the far left corner of the room he knew was filled with old trophies which gramps got for getting in first or second in tournaments - for a board game called 'Go' if he recalled correctly - not

that he could ever forget.

Grandpa always used to talk about Go and to whoever came visiting, he would suggest playing a game of Go. If he wasn't playing or talking about it, he would think about that game and whoever sat close enough to him could hear him mumbling to himself about good or bad moves. It seemed that Go was the old man's elixir of life. He even tried to make Hikaru play, tried to show him the 'beauty of that ancient game', as he used to say, but that's exactly what it was for Hikaru and where it ended - an ancient game, not more nor less, made for old people not knowing how to spend their old days differently - hell, where there even people under the age of 50 playing that game?

He had played it once or twice with Gramps, but got too bored to finish either game and never felt the desire to try again.

Thinking about the past made the emotions well up inside of him again. Grandpa had been gone for 3 months now and it still hurt a lot. Hikaru let a sob escape his mouth as tears started emerging from his eyes yet again.

There had been endless occasions when Hikaru had got annoyed with gramps the couple times he'd came over to visit him. Well, basically it had been grandpa's own fault for bringing up the topic of Go again and again since gramps knew exactly he didn't want to hear or talk about it. Nevertheless he still loved and missed him a lot. Gramps had been one of the few people he could openly talk to. He would listen, give rather sound advice and annoy the hell out of him - he was like a father figure he knew he hadn't in his biological one since that one was never around to begin with. His own father was a businessman who'd never taken time for his son. Trips across the country and even abroad filled Shindo Masao's time and life, leaving his son to his wife's care. Although his father's job left them well off, Hikaru would have preferred to live in poverty and with his dad around than seeing his dad once every month only.

His Grandpa, not happy at all about the situation in the Shindo household, had sworn to himself, that his little grandson would have a father-figure around him, if not his own father, than at least himself, old Shindo.

Everything went well until 3 months ago. Grandpa's heart had finally stopped beating.

Hikaru had never known Gramps had got heart problems - no one had cared to tell him, no, had made sure not to tell him.

Gramps hadn't want Hikaru to burden with the knowledge of his illness, wanted his brazen, shameless little grandson to be the same brat he usually was. That brat could mourn for him after his death, but not while he was still around, he selfishly decided - an old man would at least be allowed to act selfish on his old days now, wouldn't he?

Too bad he couldn't convince that little, bratty grandson of his of playing his beloved board game.

Go required intelligence, a strategic mind and the power of intense concentration.

Old Shindo knew his grandson wasn't an airhead like he made some people believe - he knew him way too well.

He was just a lazy lad, not willing to study, except for things which really interested him - like Soccer - he had started playing in elementary school and now in high school he was the star player among his team. Looked up by males, adored by females. Yes, it was too bad, he didn't put in the same effort in learning how to play Go as in playing soccer.

He had tried everything to awake his interest, but all his efforts had eventually failed. That brat stubbornly refused to even touch a Go stone, no idea why he was so dead set on not playing. In the end he fell so low, he even tried to arouse pity from him by pouting and crying crocodile-tears - though not even that had helped.

But then again, maybe there was still some hope left. In his last will, old Shindo made sure to leave all his belongings in his shed to Hikaru. There he stored kifus, books and old scrolls about Go, all from old masters, the famous Honinbu Shusaku being one of them. There was even this old goban he once got from an antique shop. After hearing, that a 1000-year old ghost was supposed to possess that goban, old Shindo decided to put that very same one in his shed and rather use a newer one he purchased a couple years before.

Not that he was scared, God beware, but you never know. Better not mess with a ghost. Then again, maybe Hikaru would feel something being surrounded by the things he himself used to love so much. Maybe he should pray that that ghost would really exist, hound his Grandson and ignite the passion for Go inside of him, a task he completely failed to accomplish.

And maybe it was all just an impossible dream, but at least he could try.

Standing in the open doorway to grandpa's old shed, Hikaru let his eyes scan the room. He'd been inside that dusty thing only once in the past and when figuring out there was nothing valuable inside, he never cared to step inside again. Now it was his.

He didn't dare coming here the past three months, afraid he wouldn't be able to stay strong but burst into tears. After all, the things in here represented grandpa - his love and dedication to this game was beyond Hikaru, but he respected it nevertheless. At least he tried to. He knew, Gramps very life was stored in this room.

Of course he'd had some old geezer friends he used to meet on a regular basis, but this, Go, was his passion. Even though he'd been only on an amateur level, all that had counted was his heart and his dedication.

Hikaru looked around. Seeing all the books and scrolls, he felt a lump in his throat. He stood still and tried to regain his composure. He had cried a lot and now it was time to move on. He knew that that's how grandpa would've want it.

"Seriously, Gramps. You're never going to give up, are you? Not even in death. Leaving me this junk behind! What am I supposed to do with it? Hell, I should just leave it here as it's always been here anyway!"

He moved to the only window of the old shed, breathing out heavily. Rays of the setting sun shined trough the window glass, illuminating the corner of the shed Hikaru hadn't looked at yet. He turned around, seeing an old shelf with more scrolls and even more books. On the floor a very old goban rested. Seeing how old it seemed, Hikaru drew closer to examine if he could possibly get some money by selling it.

It wasn't one of the cheap gobans like the foldable ones, he assessed. It had four legs it stood upon, each one carved beautifully. Although the sides and surface displayed considerable traces of usage, it still looked useable and somehow elegant.

Since it's old, it probably has some worth, right? So instead of leaving it in the shed where no one uses it, why not let someone who understands its worth have it? Maybe I can get some good money out of it.

Musing about his cut allowance, as result from his bad grades in maths, and how the sale of that goban could positively effect his cash-strapped situation, Hikaru examined the goban carefully. His eyes were immediately drawn to a spot he hadn't seen in his haste. One corner of the surface was covered with stains which although weren't too bright, would draw attention to the eye nevertheless.

"Weird", Hikaru whispered, bowing over the board to examine the stains closer. "These stains look like blood to me. Geez, no one would want to buy a blood stained board.. dang.."

Using the hem of his shirt, he tried to clean the goban, but only dust came of.

"…you can see the blood stains….?", a voice, barely audible, whispered.

Hikaru froze. With eyes widened and shivers running down his spine, he carefully turned around, eyeing every corner of the room for some intruder. No one was there. He slowly let a shaky breath escape his mouth. Maybe he was getting crazy. The last couple months were an emotional rollercoaster, perhaps it was normal to hear voices in his condition..?

"..can you.. can you hear my voice, perchance?", the voice whispered again, this time sounding more urgent and desperate. Hikaru stood up and turned around. "Who is it? Who are you, come out, this is not funny!" he cried.

"You really.. you're able to hear me, thank God, I can finally return to the living world!"

Terrified, Hikaru backed away from the goban as it started glowing and a person, dressed in strange clothes emerged from it, floating in the air, gleaming in the setting sun.

Awestruck and absolutely not being able to deal with the sudden appearance of whatever that was, Hikaru fell on his bottom. With eyes almost popping out of his head and a scream stuck in his throat he got up, turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could out of the shed.