Background: About a year ago, I wrote a 50-sentence Yeong-ha/Hikaru piece (If the Pieces Fit) for 1sentence. This is an expansion on that universe.
"...the Go Institute of Korea would like to formally extend an invitation to Shindou Hikaru to participate in the program." Hikaru waved the letter at Kurata. "What is this?"
Kurata read through the lines and whistled, as if impressed. "They work fast, I'll give 'em that."
"Work fast? For why?" Hikaru's eyes searched Kurata's face for any indication of suspicious behavior. "What's going on?"
"Well, these were only rumors whenever I heard them," Kurata said. "Whenever the tournament was going on, someone has the brilliant idea to put in some kind of exchange program between Japan, China, and Korea. Some people even thought this would lead to some glorious international league of Go." He snorted at the ridiculousness of the idea. "Well, I didn't think they'd start anything so quickly"
"Wait-but why Shindou?" Touya asked keenly. "He lost."
"Thank you for reminding me," Hikaru scowled. "I had completely forgotten."
"Completely valid question," Touya returned placidly.
Kurata chuckled. "I didn't even know that they were going forward with this," he said. "I know even less about their selection process. Better question is, Shindou-kun, what are you going to do?"
Shindou opened his mouth, frowned, and closed it again. He knew what would happen if he said no; life would continue on as ever before. Saying yes, on the other hand...
"If I accepted this," he said, ignoring the way Touya's eyes flashed at him, "what would happen to my ranking in Japan?"
"Given the circumstances, probably nothing," Kurata said, scratching his chin. "It'd probably be treated like a medical leave. I can't imagine they would improve your ranking, but I'm certain they wouldn't deduct from it."
Hikaru looked down and stared at the letter some more. A chance to immerse yourself in the styles of international professionals, the letter said.
Touya's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You're not actually thinking about accepting this," he said incredulously. "Shindou—"
"What do you think I should do, Kurata-san?" he asked quietly.
Kurata looked between the two of them; Touya who looked as if he was barely holding back his objections, and Shindou who desired his honesty. "Korea has a lot of strong players, Shindou-kun," he finally said. "I don't know when you'll get an opportunity like this again."
And so Hikaru made up his mind. He resealed the letter and handed it off to the Korean delegate as they left the hotel. Three weeks after returning home from the Hokuto Cup, Shindou was back on a plane to Korea for a three-month program that would cause his path to go irrevocably off-course.
/
A droopy-cheeked old man old man is waiting for him outside the airport gate holding a sign with "Shindou Hikaru" scrawled across it. When he speaks, it becomes clear that the man was not chosen for his conversational skills as much as he was for his astoundingly good Japanese.
"My name is Baek Daesoon," the old man said, bowing slightly, with no detectable accent. "Please follow me."
Hikaru bowed in response, declined assistance with his luggage, and followed him out to the cab.
"We would like to express our delight in you agreeing to take part in the program," Daesoon said when the driver exited the pickup lane. "We will provide for you a room at the Go Institute dormitory, and you will have access to the cafeteria along with a food allowance. We will have three matches for you scheduled every week. Otherwise, you are free to partake in practice rooms or enjoy your stay in Seoul.."
Hikaru nodded agreeably.
"I teach the beginner class," Daesoon added as an afterthought. "I will be around should you require a translator."
"That sounds wonderful," Hikaru said politely. "Thank you."
/
After a brief tour of the Korean Go institution, whose gobans sat on tables and chairs, and vending machines featured an unfamiliar array of unfamiliar drinks, Daesoon led him through the dormitories to his designated room.
"This is where I will leave you," Daesoon said with another little bow. "If you should need to be in contact with me, please do not be shy."
The room was larger than Hikaru had expected, with two's of everything: two desks fitted under two loft beds, two closets, two mini-refrigerators, two gobans with stones splayed all across them, and two familiar faces who lit up at the sight of them.
"Shindou!" Suyon bounded up to him, looking thoroughly pleased. "You're the exchange from Japan?"
"Yeah, that's right." Hikaru narrowed his eyes at Yeong-ha, who was sitting back in his chair with a lazy smile on his face. "What's he doing here?"
"He lives here," Suyon said, as if suddenly aware of the tension in the room.
"I see..." Hikaru shrugged. "It's not a big deal, I just thought I would only have one roommate."
"Oh...actually,," Suyon scratched his head. "I was also selected in the exchange program-I'll be leaving for China in a two days."
"Ah, I see." Hikaru said. And then. "Wait, so my roommate is him?"
Yeong-ha grinned at him and said something in a mocking tone.
Disregarding all manners, Hikaru glared at him.
"He said 'it's a pleasure to be your guide'," Suyon cut in hastily, and said something to Yeong-ha in an imploring tone that could only be a plea to behave.
Yeong-ha grinned at the two of them before swiveling back to his laptop screen where the countdown to the next game of StarCraft was beginning.
Suyon sighed. "Are you hungry, Shindou? I'll take you out to eat."
/
They end up at a small family-owned restaurant, barely visible on the corner of a large, bustling street, and by the time the food arrived, the lines of conversation had shifted to far more pleasant topics than Hikaru's unfortunate draw of a roommate.
"The Chinese asked me about two days after the Cup," Suyon said. "I couldn't say no."
"Well, my letter was waiting in my room when I got back from the closing ceremony," Hikaru laughed. "I don't even know what they were planning."
"Yeah, I'm surprised they asked you," Suyon said, smiling briefly at the waitress who left with them each with a plate of bulgogi. "I heard the invitations were suppose to go out to the lowest-ranked player, not the first-chair."
Hikaru blinked. "I haven't heard that."
"So it wouldn't interfere with their ranking, assuming that the higher the chair, the higher the ranking," Suyon said. Then his mouth formed into a mischievous smirk. "Guess we all know where you stand, huh?"
"You," Hikaru sniped, reaching across and ruffling the front of Suyon's hair, "are decades too young to be trying to one-up me, kid."
Suyon batted his hand away and grinned. "C'mon, I'll take you to my favorite salon," he said. "The regulars are gonna get a kick out of getting a change to cream a Japanese professional."
/
When they finally returned to the dormitory, it was dark outside, and judging from the cloudy mirrors in the adjacent bathroom, someone had just taken a shower. And judging from Yeong-ha's state of undress, with his hair in a messy tail and missing shirt, Hikaru thought his hypothesis to be correct.
Upon their entrance, Yeong-ha jumped to his feet and started speaking in Korean while motioning meaningfully toward the goban.
"He wants to play a game," Suyon supplied helpfully. Yeong-ha said something else. "Speed Go," he added.
Hikaru hesitated for a second, but playing a game with infinite possibilities for so many years had robbed him of his self-doubt. They sat down and played a game of speed Go, which turned into three. Three games, three defeats.
Hikaru sat back and exhaled loudly. In the final game, he has lost by his smallest margin: 2 moku.
"You're pretty good at speed Go," he said. Yeong-ha replied and motioned to the center region. "I know it was a risk, but I had to make up for what happened here." Yeong-ha made eye contact and said something else. Hikaru scowled at him. "Shut up."
Suyon watched the exchange with fascination. He laughed to himself-maybe mathematics was not the only universal language.
/
Suyon left for China with strict instructions to get along or else so help me, I will end you both, and Hikaru won his first game.
He realizes another mild culture shock his first day, walking into the game room. While he was well below the average age of the Japanese Go institution, there were still at least a fair number of professionals around his age he could converse easily with. The Korean Go institute, on the other hand, was almost exclusively adult, and walking through the place with Yeong-ha, they are given a wide berth.
His opponent was a middle-aged man whose style was like a refined Honda, but with unexpectedly bold moves that forced Hikaru to continually improvise; in three months, Hikaru would discover that his first opponent was one of the more conservative players.
Discussing the game afterward was also not as comprehensive given the language barrier. Given the population, with most of the younger players still struggling with their Yeon'gusaeng rankings, Hikaru got a sinking feeling that there weren't many peers to be had here in Korea.
That first night after Suyon left for China, Hikaru returned to his room so tired and jetlagged that he crawled straight into bed and fell asleep. He woke up hours in the darkness with someone snoring softly in his ear.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Hikaru bellowed, putting his palm on Yeong-ha's face and shoving it away as hard as he could.
Yeong-ha stirred and blinked up at him groggily, before his head hit the pillow again.
"Hey, hey, GET OUT OF MY BED," Hikaru insisted loudly, but Yeong-ha only—oh god-snuggled closer. Hikaru poked him. Yeong-ha didn't budge.
Hikaru mumbled under his breath as he began to crawl out of his own very warm, very soft bed for Yeong-ha's bunk—when suddenly Yeong-ha's arms wrap around him and pull him back down. Into a hug.
Oh hell no.
Hikaru tried twisting out of Yeong-ha's arms, but like a Chinese finger trap, the more he moved, the tighter Yeong-ha held on.
Well, he decided after what felt like hours of fruitless struggle, Hikaru sighed, and decided that he could wait it out. And he would absolutely not fall asleep in a bed with this person.
/
When he opened his eyes again, it was sunlight. What's worse, he felt so refreshed he wanted to cry.
/
The hastily sketched picture was a comic strip involving two stick figures, one who was clearly himself and one who was clearly Hikaru.
The first square had them laying down on two separate rectangles (beds, obviously). The second square had stick-figure!Yeong-ha shuffling across the dividng space with his stick arms outstretched. The third square had the two stick figures lying in the rectangular beds side by side.
"You want to sleep with me?" Hikaru (absolutely did not) squeaked.
Yeong-ha positively beamed at him. Hikaru made a mad dash for the door, but then he learned Yeong-ha was also…faster than he was.
He lifted his hands in the universal 'hold on, wait' motion, pointed to his drawing again, and drew sleep lines emanating from the stick figure in the second square.
"You…sleepwalk?"
Cautiously, Yeong-ha nodded.
Hikaru laughed uneasily. "You…are…very, very strange," he said. Yeong-ha smiled and nodded. "You have no idea what I'm talking about either, do you?"
Yeong-ha shrugged, strolled back into the room, sat down at his goban, and tapped the side of it as if demanding a game.
Hikaru was pretty sure he hated that guy.
[ / ]
tbc