Title: Unfolding Fan
Author: Luce Red
Series: Hikaru no Go
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Hotta and Obata
Notes: General fic. The first line of this fic (slightly modified), as well as its inspiration, is from Muri. Love and my heartfelt thanks!
Warning: Some angst.
Summary: More than twenty years later, Touya mopes about his life. Shindou is there.

---------(1)----------

Touya never would admit it aloud, but if there was a cure to the mid-life crisis, it could be found in Shindou Hikaru. Even at the age of thirty-seven, the other pro always seemed to be two steps ahead--and sideways--of everyone else in the Go world. Two years ago, fresh from numerous victories around the world, Shindou had confounded the expectations of Go watchers and fans worldwide by moving back to Japan, and proceeding to challenge the top players for their titles.

In a way, it was as though he had never left. Touya had heard more than enough stories about how Shindou's reputation was scaring off the younger, less confident players, a strange echo of what it had been like when Shindou started challenging the title-holders at the age of eighteen. Worse; unlike twenty years ago, Shindou was now more than capable of backing up his brash claims.

Such as the one he had just heard Shindou make. "I'm going to defeat you by fifty moku. Prepare to surrender!"

"Sensei!" A younger voice moaned. "Have mercy!"

"No way. Who was the one who boasted that he could defeat me if we played blind Go?"

"I... I... Touya-sensei, you're here!"

Shindou, who had looked up at his student's greeting, turned in his direction before reaching up to pull off the blindfold placed over his eyes. "Touya, you're here," he said.

For a disconcerting moment, Shindou looked exactly the way he had when Touya had met him, at the age of twelve. It had to do with the open, juvenile delight in his eyes, Touya decided. "My appointment ended earlier, so I came by to see if you wanted to play a game," he said, sitting down opposite his rival.

Shindou grinned. "With you, always." He aimed at a look at his student, who was attempting to inch away. "Kuroda-kun."

Kuroda straightened miserably. He was sixteen and looked it: all gangly limbs, with a worried-looking face that still retained slight traces of puppy fat. "Yes, sensei?" he replied.

"We'll play next time. An even game."

Kuroda looked pathetically relieved to be let off the hook. "Yes, sensei," he said. "I... I'll make you and Touya-sensei tea!" he said, rushing to the back of the Go salon.

"And remember to wash the stones!" Shindou called after the teenager, who turned to bow hurriedly in acquiescence, before he grinned at Touya. "I love doing that," he said with a cackle.

Part of Touya wondered why Shindou's students remained with him if they were so easily intimidated by him. "Kuroda-san is already playing in the second preliminaries of the Meijin tournament. He's a good player. You shouldn't scare him like that."

Shindou looked innocent. "I'm toughening him up!" he said. "You know as well as I do how weird the top players can be."

Including you, Touya thought.

"Besides," Shindou turned a laughing glance in the direction of the kitchenette. "I wonder how long it'll take him to realize that he doesn't really have to jump to my every command. When that day comes, he'll be someone to reckon with." His gaze was serious now.

Touya nodded in agreement; at that moment, Kuroda came out of the kitchenette, a tray in his arms.

"Touya-sensei, your tea," he said, putting down a white porcelain cup. "Sensei," he added, serving Shindou with a similar-looking cup, who nodded as regally as a king. Touya found himself overtaken by the urge to snort.

With the tea served, Touya expected Kuroda to leave them to their game, but Kuroda paused by his side. He looked at Kuroda inquiringly.

"Touya-sensei," Kuroda was turning a bit red. "I just wanted to say that I heard that your father was in hospital, and I wanted to give him my regards..."

"Go and visit him if you want to show your concern!" Shindou snapped, and Kuroda jumped.

"Right away, sensei!" he shouted, then flushed a deeper red, turning to Touya. "I mean, Touya-sensei, if he's allowed visitors...?"

Sensing that Shindou was on the verge of jumping up and cracking open his student's skull with his fan, Touya said, "I think it's better if you wait until he's better, Kuroda-san. I'll send along your regards. Thank you for your concern."

"Of course, thank you," Kuroda bowed a few times in succession, glanced at Shindou--and the fan in his fist--and removed himself with alacrity.

Touya found Shindou studying at him with an exasperation that was familiar and at the same time, strangely touching. "You shouldn't shout at your student like that, Shindou," he chided.

Shindou shook his head. "You're just as diplomatic as ever," he said.

Touya wondered if Shindou putting a sarcastic slant on his advice, or referring to his words to Kuroda.

"Really, you should have told Kuroda to fuck off," Shindou went on. The latter, then. But Shindou was talking again. "You have more than enough to handle at the hospital without having to manage my student's little crush on you."

"Shindou!" Touya was not sure what he was protesting to.

"If it weren't for the fact that you come over so often, I think Kuroda would totally ditch me to join your discussion group."

"Shindou." But he said in the most level voice he could manage.

"Sorry," Shindou said after a second. "It's just that..." he struggled for words. "I can see what a strain you're under, Touya, and I think the less you're bothered by young fools like Kuroda, the better."

They were silent for a few seconds. Touya reached for his tea, wanting to occupy his hands, to stop them from shaking. "His heart is much too weak," he said. "Even a heart transplant wouldn't help now--his body has been under a huge strain for a long time. Mother is as strong as she can be, but even she knows... he can't go on."

His fingers trembled over the edge of the teacup-and Shindou's hands were there, covering his. He met Shindou's open gaze. "I'm frightened," he admitted.

"I'm here," Shindou whispered.

---------(2)-----------

By the time their game was over, the setting sun was casting long, slanted shadows through the blinds. Shindou sat back, replacing the cover of his go-ke, and blinked. "When did the two of you come?" he asked the pair of observers standing to the side.

"We came a while ago, and joined the crowd watching. We were the only ones left after you started shouting, sensei," the young woman said. Her attention shifted to Touya and she bowed; the man beside her followed. "Hello, Touya-sensei."

"Sakurai-san, Fujitaka-san," Touya greeted them. Sakurai Keiko was another rising pro: just twenty, and had a good chance of getting into the Honinbou League this year. Fujitaka Hiro was an amateur player: twenty-one and studying law at Waseda. They had been dating for a year. Both were Shindou's oldest students in Japan.

"Shouting? What shouting? That was just a friendly discussion," Shindou growled.

"Friendly discussions don't include questions like 'Are you crazy?', and words like 'idiot' or 'ridiculous'," Fujitaka pointed out. "Luckily, this part of the salon is sound-proofed." He looked at Touya, and bowed a little bow, "Sensei is excitable. We're very sorry, Touya-sensei," he said.

Shindou narrowed his eyes, and his mouth opened, probably to deliver a scathing remark that would, Touya knew, roll off Fujitaka's deceptively placid exterior.

"What did you do with our dearest Kuroda Itsuki, anyway?" Sakurai interrupted. "He's been hiding in the kitchenette all afternoon."

"Kuroda?" Shindou said, looking as though he was trying to recall who Kuroda was.

"He kept sneaking peeks at the two of you from behind the door. I could have told him that it's impossible to watch a game like that."

Shindou shrugged. "I made him wash the stones, that's all. And yelled at him a little."

"You yelled at him? Good," Sakurai said with satisfaction. "He's been getting boastful, acting like he's too big for his boots."

"He's on the verge of qualifying for the Honinbou League, just like you," her boyfriend said, nudging her with a shoulder. "No wonder he's getting cocky."

"Him? I'm playing him next, and I'm going to beat him so hard, he'll go home crying to his mother," Sakurai said, nudging him back.

There was no way anyone was going to mistake Shindou's students for anybody else's, Touya thought.

"Getting into the Honinbou League is one thing, but can you beat the rest to be the final challenger?" Shindou asked. "Touya here made it into the League when he was fifteen, you know."

"Yeah, even younger than you, sensei!" Sakurai said.

Shindou stuck out his tongue in a remarkably childish gesture. "If I hadn't stopped playing in Japan all those years ago, you'd be staring at Shindou Honinbou now," he said. "In fact, I was on the verge of challenging Isumi..." he stopped suddenly, his voice suddenly scratchy, and waved a hand. "Never mind, that's old news."

But all the fight seemed to have left him suddenly, making his face look old. "Shindou," Touya said in concern.

Shindou shook his head. "I'm fine. It's been a long day, that's all," he said. Looking up at Sakurai and Fujitaka, who were exchanging glances, he said, "I'll leave the salon to you. You two are going to lock up later, right?"

Sakurai nodded, looking attentive. "Don't worry, sensei," she said. "We have things in control."

Shindou nodded. "Good. Tell Kuroda to go home; he's done enough for today."

His students gave quick bows, murmured goodbyes to Touya, and went to the counter.

Shindou stood up. "Time to go, Touya."

"W... What?"

"Dinner. I suppose you're going to the hospital later?" he asked. At Touya's nod, Shindou looked sober. "You better eat before you go, then. Come on, the boys have been asking why they haven't seen you for some time, anyway."

"You mean, at your home?" Touya asked.

"Where else?" Shindou said, looking amused. "You've been there before, you know. It shouldn't be that much of a surprise."

"No," he agreed. "I was thinking of something else, that's all."

"Let's go, then," Shindou held out his hand, almost imperiously, and Touya found himself clasping it.

***

Touya had never really asked Shindou why he had left, all those years ago, ending a promising pro career in Japan for the varied challenges of the international stage. Not when he knew the reason. It was typical of Shindou, really. Anyone would have been flattered to be the subject of those particular rumours. A more detached person would have brushed the speculations away without thinking much on them. Shindou, however, had balked at the comparison, objected to them, and in a rash moment he had, fatally, denied them-which was of course taken as a confirmation, causing speculations to become even wilder.

Although Shindou returned to Japan regularly after his relocation, it was just not the same. Touya was glad that Shindou was back for good, even he still found himself surprised by the additions to Shindou's life.

Shindou's house, left to him by his grandfather, was a good fifty minutes away, in a quiet neighbourhood with good schools--such things mattered to Shindou, now. Even before Touya had taken off his shoes, he could hear loud footfalls heading in their direction, causing the floor to vibrate. "Just like a little monster," Shindou muttered, before a warm body collided into Touya, right on cue.

"Haku-niisan!" Shindou Kenji wrapped his arms around Touya's legs. "You're here! Welcome to our house! Come and play Go with me!" The words were delivered at high volume, while Touya tried to greet the younger Shindou son and get his shoes stowed neatly.

"What have I said about calling Touya 'Haku-niisan'?" Shindou asked as he took Touya's shoes from him, and restoring order with a firm yank on his son's shirt to get him to release Touya. Kenji gave a squeak and belatedly exclaimed, "Dad, you're back!"

"Oh, it's just Dad," the elder Shindou son came into view, crossing his arms in an unconscious imitation of Shindou at his most standoffish moment. "You're back." His eyes flicked towards Touya, and his expression grew warmer. "Please come in, Touya-san," he added.

"Good evening, Kenichi, Kenji," Touya said.

"Yes, I'm back," Shindou said to his elder son. "Did you prepare dinner?"

"I don't think it's fair for you to make me prepare dinner just because Mari-san is on leave," Kenichi said, referring to their housekeeper. "Besides, why didn't you tell me that Haku-niisan... I mean, Touya-san, was coming for dinner? What if I didn't make enough?"

"Che!" Shindou scoffed. "Then you'll eat instant ramen while Touya eats your share. Let's go to the dining room. Why are you all standing around here?"

***

Shindou always claimed that he had taught his sons to play Go out of self-defense--something about how hyperactive children drove him crazy, and it was either make them play Go or tie them up--but Touya thought that a love of the game had to be one of the reasons as well. He had imparted that love well; Kenji looked forward to playing Go every day, and even sullen-tempered Kenichi could be found at the salon on weekends, playing with his brother or with Shindou's students.

It was with regret that Touya turned down Kenji's eager pleas for a game. It was growing late, and it was a school night--and he had to get to the hospital. Shindou saw him to his car, his eyes worried. "I'll go and see Touya-sensei tomorrow," he promised.

To Shindou, 'Touya-sensei' would always mean Touya Kouyo.  Never Touya Akira, because the two of them had called each other by name for as long as either of them could remember. Shindou was one of the very few people who did that, nowadays.

"You have a game tomorrow, Shindou," he reminded the other man. "With Watanabe eight-dan, remember? You have to defeat him to get if you want to be the final challenger for the Tengen title."

"I'll be ready," Shindou said, before his eyes brightened. "You came to play with me because you knew I have an official game tomorrow, didn't you? You were keeping track of my games?" he asked.

"The upcoming game schedule is in the Go Weekly, Shindou. Everyone knows that," Touya said, declining to address Shindou's first question.

"Yeah," Shindou said, but his tone was unconvinced. "Thank you, Touya. Sorry the boys are still calling you 'Haku-niisan'. Disrespectful brats."

"That's what happens when you use old anime shows as a child-rearing tool, Shindou," Touya said. He had watched the anime when it was first screened in the theatres, and had to endure teasing remarks from his classmates for weeks after. It seemed different when Kenichi and Kenji did it, though.

"Well, they were too young for Go then..." Shindou said, then shook his head. "It's late. Be careful on the road, Touya."

Touya nodded, getting into his car. "Goodnight, Shindou."

"Give Touya-sensei my regards," Shindou said.

---------(3)-----------

More than one person did a double-take when they saw him, and Touya could hear curious whispers as he looked for a seat at the sides. He kept his expression neutral despite his discomfort. Touya Meijin, it seemed, simply did not watch a game in person, especially a game that was not even a title game--only between potential title challengers.

"Over here," he heard a soft voice, and looked up to see Waya Yoshitaka motioning to the space beside him. He had not seen the seven-dan player for a long time, but it stood to reason that he could come and see Shindou's game, too. He settled down beside Waya with a murmured 'thank you,' before turning his attention to the game.

He had arrived later than he liked; Shindou and his opponent Watanabe were deep into mid-game, and the atmosphere in the room was hushed. Shindou was in fine form, though. From the luminous look of concentration in Shindou's eyes, Touya knew that Shindou was in full control of the game. When that happened, the stones invariably went "pachi, pachi"--a curious two-step tapping that had become a signature of Shindou's quick games. There was a pause, then it started again: "pachi, pachi".

Touya could hear a few of the younger watchers muttering angrily about Shindou's way of playing, and truth to say it had seemed almost insulting the first time Touya encountered it. Few people could remain calm when faced with a near-instantaneous reply to one's hand, constantly--Watanabe had barely placed a stone before Shindou's white stone was there, smartly checking his advance into the upper half. Watanabe glanced up, and scowled slightly. There was a speculative look in his eyes, as he reached into his go-ke for a stone and placed his black stone in a spot that was almost certainly randomly chosen.

Even before the black stone stopped wobbling, Shindou had already replied to neutralize any remote threat that could be caused by Watanabe's hand.

A few minutes more, and Watanabe bowed. "I have nothing," he said.

Shindou paused, as though he was surprised, before he dropped his hand to his lap, where he closed his fingers around his fan, and bowed as well. "Thank you for the game," he said, sounding breathless.

Beside him, Waya shook his head. "That's Shindou for you," he muttered, either to himself or to Touya. "Blows into town, and decimates the competition--just like that!"

Ignoring him, Touya watched intently as Shindou and Watanabe launched into a discussion of their game. He had yet to play Shindou officially, and it was always interesting to compare Shindou's game with other players with their casual ones.

Watanabe had turned pro in Shindou's absence, and like many of the younger players, he regarded stories about Shindou's strange flashes of brilliance as mere stories. Touya hoped for his sake that he had realized how wrong he was. Shindou did not set out to intimidate his opponents with his style. When Shindou was in control, he not only read his opponents' hands instantly, he read every possible move on the Go board. It was more than an hour later that the discussion ended, and the game officials informed Shindou that he would be the final challenger for the Tengen title.

Waya stood up as the room emptied, and walked towards Shindou. "Hey, Shindou. Good game," he said by way of greeting, certain that Shindou had yet to notice him, "but did you have to go and scare the children like that?"

"Waya!" Shindou said, putting his stones into the go-ke, "I thought you'd still be in Kyoto."

"Nah. I had to come and see if you're going to win the Tengen title this year," Waya said.

Shindou shrugged. "Well, I have a shot at it, at any rate," he said, before bowing to Watanabe, who returned the gesture. Touya stood up as well as Watanabe walked out, his head bowed. He waited by the doorway, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

"Wait," Shindou said, frowning, "didn't I hear that you had got into the Tengen finals as well? Why didn't I get to play you?"

Waya shrugged. "I dropped out. Something came up, Shindou. That's all."

"What do you mean?" Shindou demanded, searching Waya's face. "It can't be that you're afraid to play with me, Waya!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Shindou."

"I'm not being ridiculous." Shindou's frown deepened. "That's... that's... but Waya, you've been doing well since I left Japan. The NEC Cup, the NHK Cup... Why..."

"Because you weren't in Japan, all right!" Waya burst out, his voice tight.

Shindou's jaw fell. "What?" he said.

Waya hunched his shoulders, and crossed his arms in a gesture of protectiveness. "You're my good friend, Shindou. But you just steamroll over everyone. Like Watanabe. I lost a game to Watanabe just last month, but you beat him just now, like it was nothing. I don't... I really don't want to play with you."

"Waya..."

The other pro held up a hand. "I'm sorry, Shindou. I just can't play with you. I don't want you to show me how... far behind I am, compared to you." He looked down at the tatami floor for a moment. "Congratulations, anyway. I've got something else on. We'll meet some other time for dinner, okay?"

"But Waya..."

"Goodbye, Shindou."

At the doorway, he met Touya's eyes for a second, then looked away.

Touya approached to see Shindou still frowning, his hand outstretched as though to pull his friend back. "Shindou," he said.

Shindou looked at him. "But he was fine when I visited!" he said, his voice plaintive.

"You know that he's right, though."

Shindou shook his head in bewilderment. "Maybe my Go is better than his, now," he said softly. "But this thing about not wanting to play with me because he'd get defeated, it's not... it's not..." He stopped, at a loss for words.

"Waya-san carved out a comfortable career in your absence, Shindou," Touya said. With his own achievements, Waya had even stopped actively disliking him in those years. "Without you, he had a good chance of getting a title, sooner or later--most people know I'm not trying to get any more titles--but with your return, his chances turned to nothing. He knows how good you are."

"He..." Shindou clenched his fists. "He's let himself be trapped by his own territory?" he asked.

For a moment, Touya thought Shindou would revert to a childish tantrum, but long seconds passed, and Shindou managed to control himself. He straightened. "Touya, you came to see my game?" he asked with belated realization.

"I was a little late. You'll have to replay the game for me next time," Touya said apologetically. "We had a new specialist come in to look at Father this morning, and the examination took longer than we expected."

"I know that!" Shindou said. "I called your mother when I couldn't reach you this morning, and she told me. That was why-"

"That was why you played so quickly," Touya deduced.

Shindou nodded. "Yeah."

Touya didn't know whether to feel exasperated or touched.

"How was it?" Shindou asked, breaking the silence. "The examination by your new doctor. What did he say?"

Touya could feel a pained smile appear on his lips, remembering the strange sense of betrayal he had felt at Dr. Kajima's diagnosis. "Nothing we didn't already know, Shindou," he said.

"I'm sorry."

The short declaration was sincere, at any rate. Shindou was not adept at courtesy for courtesy's sake. Touya shook his head. "If you want to see Father, you'd better come with me today. He was looking more energetic when I left just now."

"Of course. That was my intention all along," Shindou declared, a shadow of his usual brash manner returning.

They exchanged resigned smiles and began to walk out of the room.

***

To Touya's surprise, they met Ochi in the lobby of the Go Institute. The current Tengen title holder was still short, with the stockier build of the middle-aged covered in an expensive-looking suit. He had stopped wearing glasses years ago.

"Shindou," Ochi said. His gaze flickered to Touya, and focused on Shindou. "I heard that you are the final challenger," he said to Shindou, sounding as though he was about to demand a game immediately.

Shindou nodded wordlessly. He seemed slightly taken aback by Ochi's strident tone.

Ochi smiled faintly, noting his reaction, and his nose wrinkled, as though to shift the non-existent glasses. "It'll be interesting to see what your skills are like after twelve years," he said. "After all, you left Japan without even defending your first title. I wonder if it was because you were afraid of Touya-san's skills."

Shindou's eyes narrowed for just a split-second, before he replied, "Touya knows that I've never been afraid of playing against him, no matter the outcome."

Ochi shrugged with fake civility. "You have known each other for a long time. I'm sure he wouldn't hold your deteriorating skills against you. After all, you've been playing only with foreigners."

Shindou snorted. "Yeah, right," he said, sounding as though he was about to give a loud rebuttal, before he glanced at Touya. He said instead, "Some of the foreigners I've played with include Korean and Chinese world title champions, and I've held my own so far. I'd like to see you do better."

Indeed, in the intervening years more and more Japanese players were venturing out to play in international tournaments, but some players, like Ochi, still continued to play only in Japan.

Ochi's eyes glinted--strange that he could do that without glasses--at Shindou's reply, and his nose wrinkled once more, as though he was on the verge of sneezing. Touya felt like offering him a handkerchief. "Then I'll see for myself when we play next month," Ochi said. There was a smirk on his face as he took in Shindou's sudden puzzled reaction, before he gave a curt nod to Touya, and squeezed past him towards the exit.

Touya was still wondering about Shindou's reaction--there was no way his rival would be intimidated by Ochi--when Shindou raised a hand, pointing at Ochi. "That guy!" he exclaimed. "That's Ochi!"

Ochi's retreating back stiffened, before the automatic doors opened in front of the departing player. Ochi walked through the exit, and the doors closed again.

Touya glanced at Shindou incredulously. "Of course it was Ochi. Who did you think it was, Shindou?"

Shindou looked sulky. "I didn't recognize him without his sweaters," he said.

Anyone would have pointed to Ochi's absent glasses instead. Shindou, of course, had to be different, Touya thought, before realizing that he was staring at nothing, and Shindou was frowning at him. As usual, when he was thrown by Shindou's weird reasoning, Touya found that he had to grope for the missing end of the conversation. "I thought you were going to shout at him when he belittled you," he said.

Shindou shrugged. "I've been threatened by the best," he said. "Some of the other players at the world title games are even more belligerent--they're good, and they know it." He glanced at Touya. "And then there's you."

"Me?"

"Sure. Wait, let me get a drink first," Shindou walked towards the vending machine, before he turned back to face Touya. "You're my rival, and you challenge me just by your Go. I'm sure you don't go asking if playing with people like Ko Yong-ha has made their skills worse." He thought about it, his eyes turning to the ceiling. "Actually, I know you don't. You don't go to international games that much, but everyone gushes about your 'gentlemanly manners' when you do."

"We're adults, and we should behave as such, Shindou," Touya said.

"Then why is Ko Yong-ha as annoying as ever?" Shindou groused, buying a can of iced coffee. "I just played with him last month in Seoul, and he was acting like he owned the world." He made a face, then chuckled. "Ochi thinks that you wouldn't mind if I er, displayed my deteriorating skills against you," Shindou said. "He's even worse than Ko-san; he doesn't know me, or you, at all."

Touya's eyebrows rose. "What makes you say so?" he asked as Shindou began to drink his coffee nosily, like a teenager.

Shindou put down his can. "You'd throw a fit if I'd let my skills deteriorate, Touya. Don't deny it," he said, a grin on his face. He patted his pockets and came up with a rumpled handkerchief. Wiping his lips, he said, "That's why I always trust your Go. Come on, let's make a move."

***

It only took thirty minutes to reach the hospital. They had barely stepped out of the car when someone approached, and exclaimed, "Akira, is that you?"

"Takeshi?" Touya said, surprise colouring his voice as he recognized the other man. He was aware of Shindou's visibly startled look, and belatedly realized that Shindou had seldom heard him call another adult by his given name. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said.

His ex-boyfriend's expression was serious. "I came to visit your father. I heard that he had been hospitalized recently," he said.

Touya nodded. "I see," he said, before turning towards Shindou, to make introductions. "Shindou, this is Ueyama Takeshi."

Judging by Shindou's reaction, he had just figured out who Takeshi was. "You're that Ueyama?" Shindou pointed, then looked down at his hand. "Er, sorry." He bowed. "Shindou Hikaru. It's nice to meet you."

Takeshi bowed in return, his eyes curious. "Shindou-san," he said. "It's nice to meet you..." he trailed off, turning to Touya. "So this is Shindou Hikaru! Your rival."

"And you are Touya's boyfriend!" Shindou said.

The two of them examined each other surreptitiously. Both of them were in suits, but Shindou had the knack of looking casual and relaxed even with a tie, while Takeshi was his usual neat and serious self. It was a novel experience to see his Go-life meeting his... well, his other life, Touya decided.

"And how is Touya-sensei?" Shindou asked.

Takeshi blinked at the question, before looking uncertainly at Touya. "But Touya-sensei... I didn't get to see him."

"Why not?" Touya asked. He had assumed that his father was well enough for visitors.

Takeshi frowned, a worried look coming into his eyes. "I met your mother," he said. "She told me that Touya-sensei needed to rest. There was a doctor with her."

A doctor? Dr. Kajima had left for the day--he had said he would come again by only in the evening. Touya was beginning to feel unsettled. His father had been fine when he left just now. He was not strong, but he had said he was looking forward to seeing Shindou. And now... a glance at Shindou showed that Shindou was frowning, too.

"Surely you don't think..." Shindou murmured, his voice very low.

"I'll go and find out," Touya decided. "Takeshi, I'll see you soon."

"Let me know if I can help, all right?" Takeshi said, looking from him to Shindou.

Touya nodded absently, his legs already bringing him to the hospital lobby. Behind him, he could hear Shindou exchange goodbyes with Takeshi, before running steps indicated that Shindou had run up to catch up with him.

"He'll be all right," Shindou was saying, before they reached the lobby.  Then he said "Touya-san!", his eyes widening at the newcomer.

Touya looked up to see his mother approaching them, her eyes large with fright. "Akira-san, I was just about to call you," she said.

----------(4)----------

Touya Kouyo's hair was all white, and he looked so frail that Touya half-expected him to fade away at any moment. He kept his eyes on his father, afraid to miss any change. His father had looked old since the last heart attack, but this was the first time he looked tired. This was the five-titled Go pro who had dominated the Go world before his retirement, but now he could barely speak.

"Akira," his father murmured, as he and his mother stood awkwardly by.

Touya leant closer to hear the soft brush of his father's breath against his ear, so soft that it hardly seemed tangible. "It is time," his father said.

It felt wrong to deny it--he had months to prepare himself for it--but Touya opened his mouth to try.

His father shook his head, a faint smile curving his grey lips. "It's all right," he said. "I have had a good life. I have my Go. I have a family: a caring wife and a son that made me proud. I played many good games."

Touya bowed his head.

"It's just that..." his father went on. "I wish that I could have played with him once more." He felt silent, while his chest rose and fell sluggishly.

Touya's head came up. Sai, he thought, then Shindou. He stood up.

***

Shindou was just outside, in the waiting area reserved for visitors. He was in the middle of a video-call, and as Touya approached, he could hear a woman's voice. Shindou glanced at him upon hearing him approach, but continued speaking.

"Yes, Mari-san. I can't say how late I'll be. Will you be able to stay the night?"

His housekeeper, then. Shindou paid Suzuki Mari highly for her help in keeping an eye on his sons, as well as staying over whenever he had to travel out of Tokyo for games. "Don't worry, Shindou-san, I'll take care of things," Touya heard her say.

Younger, boyish voices replaced Suzuki-san's a moment later, and Touya was close enough to make out Kenji's voice on the video screen.

"Touya-sensei is very ill, and I'm going to stay late at the hospital, okay?" Shindou was saying.

"Is Touya-ojisan going to die?" Kenji asked, his voice childish and curious.

Touya flinched.

Shindou caught his reaction. "Don't talk nonsense," he snapped, but his expression softened almost immediately when Kenji's face crumpled. "Kenji, I..."

Then the face on the screen changed to Kenichi's. "Did you have to yell at him?" Kenichi demanded, looking furious.

"I didn't mean..." Shindou sighed. "Tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at him," he said.

Kenichi's hostility faded a little. "Touya-ojisan is really very sick?" he asked. "Like with Great-grandpa?"

Shindou nodded.

"We could come to the hospital..."

Shindou was already shaking his head. "No, you stay home, and take care of your brother."

"But..."

"No." It looked like Kenichi was about to argue, but Shindou continued: "It's difficult enough for Touya."

Surprisingly, it made Kenichi nod, though he did it with a scowl. "All right. You better remember to apologize to Kenji when you see him." The connection ended.

Shindou sighed, and turned to look at him directly. "I'm such a bad father..." he said. "I yelled at my kid."

Touya was surprised into a tired chuckle.

"Is... everything all right?" Shindou asked, watching him. His face grew alarmed. "He isn't..."

"No. He's probably talking to Mother now. Or Ashiwara. Or Ogata." The other two pros had turned up for their regular evening visit, and had been shocked to hear of the sudden turn in his father's condition. "Shindou," he said, bracing himself. Shindou had said before that he never wanted to bring up the matter again.

"What?"

"I know I shouldn't bring this up, but Father was asking." He swallowed. "About Sai." He held himself stiffly, afraid of rejection.

But Shindou surprised him. "Ah," was all he said, before he turned and walked towards the ward.

Touya caught up with him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shindou?"

Shindou gave him a sharp look. "Did you think I wouldn't trust Touya-sensei with the truth about Sai?"

Lost for words, he shook his head. "I..."

"It's all right," Shindou said. "I would have told him earlier, if I knew it was still on his mind." Without a second word, he walked up to the door and opened it.

Ogata, Ashiwara and his mother were there. Shindou bowed, but his eyes were intent on Touya Kouyo lying on the bed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I need to talk to Touya-sensei privately for a few minutes."

Ogata frowned, and looked as though he was about to object, but Touya's mother stood up, giving Shindou a smile. "I understand. Please excuse us," she said, looking first at Shindou and next at her husband.

Touya found himself waiting outside with Ogata and Ashiwara.

After a while, Ogata stood up and paced impatiently.  "What is he doing in there?" he asked.

"It's all right, Ogata-san," Ashiwara said. "Sensei had always liked Shindou-san. They must have lots to talk about."

Touya glanced apologetically at his mother, and reached out to hug her shoulders gently. "Shindou won't take long," he reassured her.

As he spoke, the door opened, and Shindou came out, his eyes suspiciously bright. "Touya. Touya-san," he said. "He wants to see you now."

***

To Touya's surprise, his father looked more cheerful than he had in the last few weeks. He was paler, and still breathing weakly, but he smiled at the two of them.

Touya sat down, his eyes intent on his father. His mother sat down beside him. Touya couldn't help thinking that she looked calmer, no longer as frightened. 

"Akira," his father said. "Thank you for asking Shindou-san to talk to me. I think I can understand... his friend. It must be splendid, to continue to play Go like that." There was a wistful note in his voice.

"Father..." He didn't think he could bear it.

"But perhaps it was lonely too," his father said. "Perhaps I'm luckier than him, in my search for the Hand of God."

"Father..." He couldn't help saying it, as though saying it would call life back into his father.

His father smiled at him. "You'll be fine, Akira. I know you're strong. I'm just worried about your mother." His eyes focused on his wife. "Akiko..." he said.

His mother leant forward to clasp her husband's hand tightly. "It's all right. I'll be here. I'll sit here, and I'll wait till it's time," she said, smiling faintly though her eyes were red. "That's what I've been doing all along."

----------(5)------------

The Go board stood out in shining, broken rows of black and white. If Touya squinted, it looked merely abstract, like black-and-white pictures on old newsprint. On deeper scrutiny, though, he could see that the shape was unpleasing, full of sharp corners and breaks. He had abandoned the territory in the centre too quickly, a mistake he had not made for years.

"I have lost," Touya said, bowing. Not for the first time that day, he thought of his father.

Takeshi had been the first to offer his condolences.

For some reason, when he and his mother left the hospital room, he had expected to see Shindou. But it was Takeshi who stepped up, sympathy in his face. For the life of him Touya could not remember what to say. He remembered being conscious of his mother standing beside him, both of them aware that they were staring, yet somehow, they were physically incapable of making the proper reply to Takeshi's words.

It took him a moment to realize that his opponent, Akashi, had acknowledged his words, and they went on to the post-game discussion. On one side of the room, the game officials and various observers listened.

The same tight, waiting silence had nearly paralyzed Touya and his mother at the hospital, after Takeshi stepped aside. Reporters, friends, Go players both professional and casual had filled the lobby, all waiting for news. He had heard Shindou's voice to one side, exclaiming in his usual tactless way, "Ueyama-san, I though you had gone back already. You're still here?"

Shindou, it turned out, had gone with Ogata to help arrange for the use of the hospital's conference room, so that Touya and his mother could give the final pronouncement.

Shindou had offered no condolences.

Everyone had tried to tell him that it was foolhardy to resume his game schedule so soon after the funeral, but Touya felt that it was a far better way to remember his father than an extended period of mourning. Now, he wondered what his father would think of the game he just played.

The post-game discussion finally ended, and Touya felt drained. He walked with Akashi to the side-room to retrieve their jackets.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Shindou was standing in his way.

He stared. "Shindou, you-"

Akashi, in the middle of pulling on his own jacket, turned back. "You shouldn't talk to Touya-sensei like that," he said. "I'm sure Touya-sensei needs his rest after a difficult game like that."

Touya had to give him points for being bold. Akashi had been the final challenger for his title for the last two years, and this was the first time he had been able to win a game between them by more than five-and-a-half moku. No wonder he was feeling triumphant.

At Akashi's words, though, Shindou narrowed his eyes.

Damn, Touya thought. He watched as Shindou stalked over to Akashi. "Akashi Yuki, right?" Shindou asked.

Akashi attempted to keep his composure. "Yes," he said.

"Do you know who I am?" Shindou asked.

Akashi nodded, his eyes darting from Shindou to Touya, and back again. "You're Shindou Hikaru, nine-dan," he said. At Shindou's continued silence, Akashi added, a sounding little reluctant, "Touya-sensei's friend."

"Wrong," Shindou snapped.

Akashi jumped at the menace in his tone, and tried to hide the reaction. Touya could see him trying not to meet Shindou's eyes.

Shindou went on. "I'm Touya's rival," he said. "I was Meijin before Touya was, and I'm going to be the one to take that title back. You don't even have a chance."

"But you... you're only in the third round of preliminaries..." Akashi faltered.

Shindou smiled with his teeth showing, like a shark. "And I will qualify by next year. Keep that in mind," he said.

Akashi's eyes flashed. "You won't scare me off that easily!" he said suddenly, looking from Shindou to Touya once more. "I've heard about you, Shindou-san. We're playing in the Honinbou League soon. I didn't think you'd resort to frightening off your opponents, but I was wrong..." He drew himself up to his full height, a full two inches taller than Shindou. "Good day, Touya-sensei." He pointedly ignored Shindou, before turning on his heels and leaving.

Touya waited till he was sure Akashi was out of earshot. "You weren't really trying to intimidate him, were you?"

"Did it work, do you think?" Shindou looked at the doorway, his voice absent. "You know him better."

Touya froze. "You mean you really... Shindou!"

Shindou turned back. "Please," he said. "I'm not a thug like Kuwabara was," he said. He looked innocently up at the ceiling. "But if it came out like that..."

Touya was not sure whether to believe him. "Shindou!" he said again, but Shindou had turned to him, his eyes serious.

"We need to talk," he said. Without another word, Shindou grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room, down the hallway, not stopping until they were inside the elevator.

"This is the third game for the Meijin title, Touya!" Shindou said, his voice echoing weirdly in the enclosed space. "You won the first game with Akashi, but I know it was a fluke--he shouldn't have tried to trick you with that corner hand. But you lost the second game. And now this one as well?"

Shindou's earlier irritation with Akashi faded in comparison to the fury in his voice now. Touya bristled. "It's none of your business, Shindou!" he said.

Shindou continued. "There are only five final games. Akashi has won two. If you lose the next one, you can kiss the Meijin title goodbye!"

Shindou's words cut right to the heart of Touya's fears. To hide it, he taunted, "And you think you know my Go as well as that?" The elevator stopped at the lobby, and they walked out.

"I'm your bloody rival, thanks," Shindou said, glancing at him. He controlled himself with visible effort. "Touya, you have to stop torturing yourself..."

"Shindou, I'll thank you not to assume that you know everything about me," Touya said coldly. He was tired of Shindou thinking that he knew him, and could fix his Go and solve his troubles, just by reading ahead and placing the right hands. He was not a Go problem for Shindou Hikaru.

Shindou's eyes widened in shock. "You..." he began.

Touya felt resentful suddenly. "Do you know how important my father was, to me? He's always been the one I wanted to be. I admired him. I respected him... And now that he's gone, I keep thinking of all the hands I could have played against him, all the things I could have said, and I can't help it! What right do you have to come and tell me not to miss him?" he demanded.

Shindou drew breath. "Because I know what it feels like..."

"Bullshit!" Touya shouted. "The last time someone important left you, you quit Go!"

The silence in the lobby was loud, after his outburst.

Shindou's face was pale. "Yes," he said. "I did."

---------(6)----------

Shindou's third game with Ochi, the current Tengen title-holder, was well-attended. The younger pros, who had been too young to know Shindou, now exchanged ever wilder rumours about the newly-returning pro: why he had left, the reasons for his return, and the various games he had played with foreign Go pros while abroad. There were speculations that Shindou Hikaru, who had once won the titles of Meijin, Kisei and Juudan in the same year before he abruptly left Japan, was planning to take Japan's Go world by storm again.

Touya was grimly amused to note that his rivalry with Shindou Hikaru came under the heading of 'that can't be true, you're insane', though the looks on the pros' faces, when Touya looked at them, was worth treasuring.

He turned his attention to the Go board. Shindou had won the first game, lost the second, and if Touya read the situation on the Go board right, he was going to win this third one by five-and-a-half moku. Shindou's knack, many knew, was his ability to come out with hands that looked innocuous at first, but later turned out to be perfectly positioned for taking over what was previously unassailable territory.

"That was amazing!" one of the watchers exclaimed, as Shindou made an unexpected attack for Ochi's territory in the corner, and captured it within six hands while Ochi was still wondering how to counter the first attack.

"I don't know how he did it," another person said, when Ochi finally bowed to indicate his resignation. The post-game discussion was full of similar questions; Touya tuned them out. The crux of it, Touya and his father had discussed, was in the timing. Shindou's Go was not merely the result of superb analytical skills, but also impeccably timed hands. The years abroad had sharpened Shindou's skill, but it was still recognizably his, and he was still the person with whom Touya most wanted to play.

It had been one week since Touya came out with that accusation, and he did not want to stay away from Shindou anymore. He only waited until most of the crowd had left, before he went to the main room.

Shindou was talking to his students, who had turned up to watch his game. Sakurai and Kuroda, both of whom, considering their talents and skills, would shortly become his--no, their--rivals, were bantering with Shindou.

"I still think you should let Kenichi take the pro exams, Sensei," Sakurai, who was more assertive, was saying. "It's a good way to pick up girls, being a pro."

"And you would know this how? All you ever do is pick up boys," Shindou enquired with a lift of his eyebrows. "At least, before you and Fujitaka got together."

"Well, how do you think I found Hiro?"

"I introduced you to him." Shindou smiled, his eyes mischievous. "If I remember right, you blushed like a tomato, tried to bow but tripped over your own feet, and ended up hugging a table."

"Sensei!" Sakurai growled, looking around. "You promised never to repeat that. What if someone else... oh. Touya-sensei!"

Kuroda looked up at her exclamation, his eyes widening. "Touya-sensei!" he said.

Shindou blinked at him, and his expression turned sober. "Touya," he said. "I didn't expect to see you here."

That hurt; they had used to make a habit out of attending each other's games a long time ago, and had even come to expect each other's presence. "Sakurai-san, Kuroda-san, good afternoon," he greeted. "I thought I'd come and see you play," he said to Shindou.

Shindou's eyes revealed nothing, but he glanced at his students. "The two of you," he said. "Go back first, and tell Kenichi and Kenji that I'll be back soon, all right? I need to talk to Touya first."

Kuroda opened his mouth as though to say something; a wince came over his face where Sakurai had kicked his leg. "Of course, Sensei!" she said, as cheerfully as ever. "See you later, Touya-sensei." She dragged Kuroda out of the room.

It was only the two of them now. Shindou was still watching him. Touya, not knowing what to say, found himself asking, "Is Kenichi going to take the pro exams?"

A moment's puzzlement flashed on Shindou's face, before he answered, "He's only eleven. I don't want him to turn pro so early."

"Oh."

Silence fell between the two of them once more.

"Shindou..."

"Touya..."

They stopped talking at the same time, staring at each other.

"I..."

"You..."

They stopped again. Then Shindou shook his head, and raised his right hand like a child in a schoolroom. "I'll go first," he said, his lips twitching, it seemed, in spite of himself. "I'm glad to see you, you know. Even though I'm still pissed off at you."

That was not really the opening he was going for, but Touya didn't want to lapse into silence again. "I shouldn't have said... what I said." He looked away for a second.

"Damn right," Shindou muttered, and mumbled something else under his breath.

"What?"

Shindou shook his head, before he stepped forward to stand in front of Touya. "I'm worried about you, Touya," he said, his eyes serious. "It's been years, but I still remember what it was like to miss someone so much that you'd move heaven and earth to get him back." He looked down for a second, and Touya could see Shindou's lip tremble, just for a second. "In my case, I quit Go... but Touya, you need a break."

Touya shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, Shindou, but..."

"But you're determined to be an ass about this, aren't you?"

Shindou's resigned tone was tinged with affection, and the sound made Touya feel warm inside. "I promise you, Shindou, I'm fine." At Shindou's dubious look, he added, "Or I will be. But I can't stop playing. It feels wrong, somehow."

Shindou crossed his arms. "I've said it then, I've said it before: you and your father are the most stubborn people I've come across."

There was nothing he could say to that.

***

They drove to Shindou's Go salon, Shindou declaring that his own sons would disown him if he did not bring their 'Haku-nii-san' down for a visit. "Hey, I didn't realize your boyfriend was an acquaintance of Akari's," Shindou said as they walked in the direction of the Go salon.

Touya tried to keep up with the unexpected change of topic. "Ex-boyfriend," he said without thinking.

"What?" With a wave at the counter receptionist--Inoue Kaori, who worked Saturdays--Shindou led the way into the kitchenette, declaring that he wanted tea.

"Takeshi," Touya said, collecting his thoughts. "We broke up last year, actually."

"Last year?"

Shindou seemed to be deep in thought, so Touya asked, "Fujisaki-san knows him?"

"Yeah. Akari's working at that publisher, you remember? She said she's met Ueyama-san a few times because of work."

Touya paused to think. "Yes. Takeshi works part-time as a freelance writer for Weekly Go. You talked about him with Fujisaki-san... at the funeral?" he guessed uneasily.

"Yeah," Shindou gave him an apologetic look. "People do that, you know. Talk. And gossip. At funerals."

Touya nodded, trying to keep his composure. "And class reunions," he added, trying to sound as though he didn't mind. "Birthday celebrations. Weddings."

"Yeah." Shindou's voice was quieter. Touya glanced at him, noting the frown on his face, before he realized what he had just said. "Shindou, I'm sorry."

"What for?" Shindou asked, blunt as always. "You were probably the only one who didn't gossip about my Go skills during my own wedding reception."

"They were wrong to say such things. I know you. I know your Go. You were strong enough to take the titles at the time."

"Yeah. But you know who the only ones to believe that I could do it were?" Shindou said. "You, your father, Waya, Isumi and Kuwabara-sensei. Even Ogata was giving me some strange looks at one point." He shook his head.

"Only the people who have truly played with you know your strength, Shindou," Touya said.

"That doesn't explain Kuwabara-sensei," Shindou pointed out.

"Sensei!"

Sakurai and Fujitaka entered the kitchenette, which was not meant for four adults. Shindou scowled. "What are you doing... ow!" he said as he banged his elbow on the refrigerator. "What happened? The kids..."

"They are fine," Sakurai said immediately. "They are playing a game in the private room, that's why you didn't see them. Sensei, Touya-sensei, this is serious."

"What?"

"This!" Sakurai switched on the monitor attached to the wall, turning it to the channel dedicated to Go news. "We just saw it on the way here."

Touya's breath caught in this throat as he began to make sense of what he was seeing.

Shindou Hikaru, related to legendary NetGo player Sai? was the least speculative of the headlines.

Touya could feel his jaw dropping in sheer disbelief. Beside him, Shindou cursed.

-----------(7)------------

Some of the headlines were familiar, even from a distance of more than twelve years; subtle and not-so-subtle comparisons between Shindou and Sai, speculations that Shindou was Sai's student, and arguments that Shindou had pretended to be a poor player in his insei days. Other wilder stories, like speculations that Shindou was Sai himself, were less popular.

That was about to change, Touya realized.

"Sensei, you were possessed by a ghost?" Sakurai asked. Her hand went to her lips in a gesture that was meant to convey suppressed laughter.

"No," Shindou bit out.

"But it says here..."

Too late, Sakurai had failed to notice the embittered tone, and she shrank back when Shindou turned to her, his eyes blazing with scorn. "We're living in the twenty-first century, Sakurai. Don't tell me you still believe in ghosts."

"I..." Sakurai stuttered, and Fujitaka bit his lip.

Shindou turned and walked out of the kitchenette. Touya paused to give Sakurai an apologetic glance before he followed after Shindou.

Shindou was heading for the private tatami room where he held his lessons. Kenichi and Kenji were in there, a Go board between them, but they were not playing Go. Instead, they seemed to be talking rapidly, their heads next to each other's.

Touya could see Shindou's anger deflate at the sight of his sons. "What's going on?" Shindou asked, his voice wary.

Kenichi looked up, and his eyes narrowed. Before he knew it, Kenichi had stood up and stalked over to them. "What are you doing about these rumours?" he asked.

Shindou stuttered. "Rumours?" he asked, glancing at Touya.

"Yes!" Kenichi's shout contained pure fury. "These... stupid rumours about you... you and Sai?"

"Me and Sai?" Shindou's voice broke on the name, but his son did not seem to notice.

" 'Ghost from a Go board'?" Kenichi asked. "I've never heard of something so ridiculous in my life!"

"What?"

"Next, you'll be claiming that the Go boards in our storehouse are all haunted!" Kenichi went on. "As though it wasn't enough to hear about people comparing Sai with you..."

"How did you know about the rumours?" Shindou asked.

"We just heard about them from Kuroda-san," Kenji answered, coming to stand beside Touya, as though to use Touya as a shield from his angry brother.

Kenichi was still talking. "... and now they are saying that you were Sai..."

Touya just had time to think, Drat Kuroda, before Shindou drew himself up to his full height.

"You just shut up about Sai right now!" he shouted.

Silence descended. Kenichi glared at his father, his face reddened with rage.

"Shindou," Touya said, keeping his voice soft. "Calm down. Kenichi, you too."

With some tugging from Kenji, Kenichi tore his gaze away from his father's, and looked down at the floor.

After a while, Shindou's gaze fell on him. Touya could read the frustration in his eyes as plainly as the stones on a board. With a visible effort, Shindou managed to bite back further angry words.

"Sit down," Touya said, sitting down himself. He aimed at look at both Kenji and Kenichi, who sat down next to him reluctantly. "Shindou," he reminded.

Seconds passed, but finally Shindou sat down heavily on the floor, his whole stance radiating stubbornness.

Touya decided to ignore him for the time being. "Kenichi, you shouldn't have yelled at your father because of the rumours."

Kenichi frowned. "But they are wrong!" he said, and glared at his father. "Why didn't you stop them from saying such things?" he accused.

"Do you think your father can control what other people say?" Touya asked.

"But..." Kenichi clenched his jaw, but could not find anything else to say.

"Don't pay any attention to such stories," Touya said. "They are just that, stories. Kenji, you too."

Kenichi glared at his father. "And are you going to be frightened off by the rumours?" he asked. "I heard Grandmother say that you left Japan before we were born, because of the same rumours. I warn you, I'm not going to move."

At that, Shindou raised an eyebrow, sarcastic despite himself. "I thought you didn't like Japan."

"But Kenji does."

At the sound of his name, Kenji wriggled in his seat beside Touya.

Shindou glanced at his younger son, and his gaze softened. "I know. Don't worry. I'm not going to be intimidated so easily."

"But..."

"I was young," Shindou said, his words directed to both of his sons, yet somehow, to Touya as well. "I didn't think it through the last time. But now that I've come back, I don't intend to leave." His gaze met Touya's as he continued, "I will stay here with you."

--------(8)--------

Shindou's next game was even better attended than his last one. Touya nodded and exchanged polite greetings amidst snatches of conversation that ranged from "Did you see the myosho Shindou executed in the later half?" to "Did you hear about the rumours?" One unexpected effect of the rumours about Shindou that were sweeping through Japan's Go community was that the sympathetic looks directed at him had disappeared.

He made his way to where Shindou was talking to the game officials about the game schedule for the next few months.

Shindou looked up as he approached. "Touya," he greeted. He nodded to the officials, ignored a pair of earnest-looking reporters, took Touya's arm and led him from the room.

"Congratulations," Touya said, when they were seated in a secluded corner of Shindou's favourite ramen restaurant. "Now you're the final challenger for the Kisei title."

Shindou nodded. "I'm glad one thing went smoothly for me, at least," he said. "You know, Go isn't that popular a game, even in Japan. I don't know why there are so many people interested in rumours about what happened to a middle-aged pro twenty years ago."

"People tend to talk about someone who returns to Japan after an absence."

Shindou shrugged. "It seems like every time I achieve some success in Japan, some crazy rumours appear."

Touya said, "The last time rumours about you and Sai spread, it was the year you had won your titles, remember? We thought at first that it was just because you were so popular, and the media were making use of you."

"Yeah. I thought it was a pretty wild rumour anyway, based on what people knew of Sai," Shindou said, his eyes distant. "I mean, the only people to ever make the connection, other than you, were your father, Waya and Ogata-san. Waya wouldn't ever spread rumours like that. And Ogata-san isn't the type, either."

"But this time, the rumours are stronger than ever," Touya said. "And the content is more... disturbing."

Shindou frowned. "You mean, it's more accurate," he said. " 'Possession by a ghost'. 'A ghost from a Go board.' For a wild story, it's very close to the truth."

Touya sat up, catching Shindou's gaze. "Shindou," he said.

His urgent tone made Shindou narrow his eyes. "What?"

Touya tried to calm his racing pulse. "What... what if it isn't a wild story invented by someone?" he asked.

Shindou's jaw fell. "What?"

Touya gathered his thoughts. "You said it yourself, to Sakurai-san. In this day and age, who believes in ghosts any more? It's not just a random wild story. This particular rumour seems to be rather prominent compared to a few others I could name..."

"Like the one where I deceived everyone about my Go skills at the age of twelve?" Shindou agreed. "Or that I was paying a mysterious Go pro to be Sai?" he went on. "At least it's not the rumour where Sai is a woman and I went to Holland to have an affair with her."

Touya wrinkled his nose in reaction to that.

Shindou gave an unconscious nod of agreement. He rested his elbows on the table, nudging his empty ramen bowl out of the way. "What you're saying is: you think there might be someone who knows the truth."

Touya considered what he had said, and nodded.

"Impossible." Shindou slammed a palm on the table, earning a dirty look from the patrons in the next table. "I haven't told anyone else at all," he said. "Those irresponsible bastards just stumbled on this by chance. It has to be chance. I won't..." he shook his head. "I won't let those bastards sully Sai's memory."

Touya looked down at the table, where Shindou's fist rested. "I hope so too, Shindou." He had learnt to take Shindou's protectiveness towards Sai's memory in his stride years ago.

"No one else knows about Sai. Only you," Shindou said a second later. He was about to say more, before he gave Touya an embarrassed look, and sat back. "And your father. But he's... well..."

"He's dead, Shindou," Touya said. He had meant to sound severe, but to his own ears he sounded weak and lifeless instead.

Shindou met his eyes once, before he looked down onto the surface of the table. "Yeah."

Touya thought of his father, who had played with Sai and thought him a worthy opponent, and had in fact retired as he promised when he lost. Shindou had been perplexed by his father's decision--stubbornness, he called it--but Touya thought it was fitting. The commitment of playing seriously with a thousand-year-old spirit should have required nothing less than the weight of one's career. He was just lucky that he had been too naïve to challenge Sai on the same grounds.

"It was after his game with your father that Sai started acting weird."

It took Touya a few seconds to realize that Shindou was talking again. He looked across the table at Shindou, who was still staring at the table as though his life depended on it. "Weird?" he asked.

"Now that I think about it, I think it's because he sensed that he would be leaving soon. He even told me. I didn't believe him. I told him he was being unreasonable."

The voice, so soft and broken now, made Touya want to stretch out an arm to touch Shindou, but he had no idea how to comfort him. He had no words to act as a balm for Shindou's loss, anymore than he could numb his own grief. "Shindou," he settled for saying, hoping Shindou would understand.

At the sound of his name, Shindou looked up. His eyes were reddened, but he forced a smile. "Rather different from the rumour where I disguised Sai as me, and made him play my title games, huh?"

It took Touya a second to recall that this rumour had also been prominent soon after Shindou won his titles. He replied, matching his tone to Shindou's, "I don't see how that could have happened. If Sai had been playing, he would have never made all those mistakes you made in that final Meijin game with Kurata-san."

A second passed, before Shindou retorted, "Hey, I won!"

He had had argued over that game with Shindou for a full three hours, until Ichikawa threw them out of the Go salon, saying that an argument was no way to celebrate Shindou's first title.

"Mistakes are mistakes, Shindou," Touya said.

"Ha ha. I bet you are just pissed off I didn't stay on the next year for you to take the title off me," Shindou said, a grin returning to his face. "Come on, let's go to my place. I've got some kifu from Ko Yongha's latest games that I bet you haven't seen." He called for the bill, and settled it quickly, before standing up to leave.

Touya remained seated.

"Touya?" Shindou called, turning back.

Touya gave a start, before he looked up. "I was pissed off, you know."

"Huh?" Shindou asked. "Oh." He gave Touya a sheepish smile that would not have been out of place on his younger son's face. "I was stupid. I should have stayed, you know. I really wanted to defend the Meijin title from you personally. I wouldn't have made it easy for you."

"Is that so?" Touya replied as he stood up, very much on his dignity as the defending Meijin.

But Shindou only looked on indulgently as he approached, as though Touya were sixteen again and being stubborn about a game they had played.

--------(9)--------

"Waya!" Shindou exclaimed when he entered the Go salon. "When did you come back?"

Waya looked up from where he was seated before a Go board in a corner of the Go salon. "Last night," he said. "Shindou, I thought about what you said when I was in Taiwan, and... Oh. Touya-san, you're here."

"Good evening, Waya-san," Touya said.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Shindou said to Waya.

Touya stifled a spike of jealousy at the pleasure in his voice. Waya and Shindou had been firm friends since their insei days, and despite the former's discomfort with Shindou's meteoric success in the Go world, he had always supported his friend without fail. Touya had never been able to find that kind of ally in his own life.

"You've been in the news lately," Waya said.

Warning bells went off in Touya's head at the lack of inflection in Waya's tone.  He would have expected joy, pride or even envy for Shindou's recent games, but instead it sounded as though Waya was trying to restrain himself from another emotion altogether.

"Shindou's the final challenger for the Kisei title this year," he said, as though making a general announcement.  Some of the customers heard, and for a while the Go salon erupted in shouts of congratulations and offers of continued support.  Touya watched as Waya's face darkened at the noise they made.

Shindou was beaming, and his face looked young again as he thanked the well wishers.

"Yes, Shindou," Waya said.  "Congratulations."

"Waya?" Shindou had picked up on his tone by now.  "What's wrong?"

Waya's eyes narrowed in a frown, before his expression smoothed out again.  "Nothing.  Will you play a game with me, Shindou?"

Touya could tell that Shindou was taken aback by the request.  He remembered their previous encounter where Shindou had accused Waya of being afraid to play with him.

After a second, though, it seemed as though Shindou had decided to concentrate on the fact that Waya was interested in playing Go with him, for he nodded.  "Of course!  Over here?" he indicated a table near the back, which was quieter and further away from the customers.

Waya nodded and sat down at the indicated spot.  A few customers muttered about wanting to see how pros played, and walked over so they could view the game.  Cautious, curious, and not a little worried, Touya went over to watch them nigiri.  Shindou got black, and started off on a fairly standard hand on the upper right star-point.

At first everything seemed normal, but on the fifteenth hand Waya said, with studied casualness, "I saw in the news the rumours about you, Shindou."

Shindou snorted, his gaze fixed on the Go board with his usual concentration.  He held his fan loosely in his right hand.  "Those reporters exaggerate everything," he grumbled.

"It seems like a lot of people remember Sai," Waya said.

"Aah."  Shindou's actions stilled at the mention of Sai, and his fingers froze around the fan.  He glanced up, and turned his attention to the Go board again.  "He was unbeatable during the time he played NetGo.  There are a lot of people who study his games," he said.

"But don't you think it's interesting that suddenly, there are all kinds of the sensational news about him, and your relation to him?" Waya asked.

Shindou made a face.  "No," he said in the repressive voice Touya had come to associate with Shindou discouraging nosy reporters.  "Reporters like that have nothing better to do."

"That's true," Waya said.  "But the timing is strange.  It's funny that reporters chose a time like this to spread rumours again.  After all, they did it once before."

Shindou looked up from the Go board again, and this time his eyes were narrowed.  "Let's concentrate on the game, Waya, and forget about the rumours, Waya.  I don't decide on what the reporters say, after all."

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

Waya's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.  "Nothing.  Let's play, then."

Touya had a bad feeling about the game as it proceeded.

Shindou frowned once when a two-stage ko formed right in the centre.  The shape, which was initially drawn by Shindou's joseki, became twisted and sprawled in an ungainly fashion over the Go board.  Shindou retaliated, and the struggle at the top turned ugly.

"You were right," Waya said as he played a stone.

"What?" Shindou asked, his attention on the Go board.  He was still holding his fan, and was loosening and tightening his grip by turns on it.  Touya wondered if it was because Shindou was still deciding on a strategy, or that he couldn't make up his mind whether to let Waya down gently.  The next hand he played was cautious and conservative.

"I was afraid to play with you."

Shindou's grip on the fan tightened, and he looked up.  "Waya, I..."

"No, you were right," Waya said, glaring fiercely enough, it seemed, to bore a hole into the Go board.  "I thought about it when I was alone in Taiwan.  I've been behaving like a coward."

Shindou shook his head once.  "No, Waya, that's not what I meant..." he started to say, but his words were cut off by Waya's firm reply on the lower corner, accompanied by a "pachi!" which echoed in the salon.

Waya leant forward slightly, his smile tight with victory.  "I've thought about it," he said again.  "I was wrong to give up without even fighting, Shindou.  I was afraid merely because I thought you were too good.  But when I heard about the ridiculous rumours, I realized that even someone like you needed publicity, and however pathetic it was to make use of Sai's name..."

"Wait a minute," Shindou interrupted, his face growing red.  "You thought I made use of Sai's name?  To get publicity?"

"Didn't you?" Waya asked.

"No!" Shindou said.  "What makes you think that?"

"I remember when we were in Morishita's study group, Shindou," Waya said.  "You knew about Sai then, and whenever we discussed his games in the study sessions, you were always the one who seemed to know more about Sai than anyone."

"But that's because..." Shindou stuttered to a stop, and swallowed, before glancing at Touya with bewilderment. 

"And I remember you as Shuusaku's supporter," Waya went on.  "We all knew Sai used Shuusaku's Go, but you were the only one who got so fervent about Shuusaku.  A lot of people connected you and Sai because of that."

"But..." Shindou stopped again.  His grip on the fan tightened so much that his knuckles nearly turned white.

"Waya-san," Touya interrupted.  "Shindou would never make use of Sai's name for his own advantage."

A hint of uncertainty entered Waya's eyes, but he retorted, "What about the year he won his three titles?"  His jaw was set.  "Do you remember how many players were distracted by the rumours?  They all happened to be your opponents, Shindou."

"I was playing in nearly every tournament, Waya!" Shindou exclaimed.  "Everyone I played knew about the rumours!"

"And now it's the same thing," Waya said.  "You're playing in most of the tournaments again, and the rumours appeared again. Especially the ones that say you're Sai."

"It's not because of that!" Shindou shouted, his temper flying out.  "Waya, why are you doing this?" he asked.  "You know I'm not Sai."

"Yes, but you're not above using him to intimidate your opponents, are you?" Waya said.  "My students told me that attendance at your games have more than doubled since the rumours came out, and even business here is picking up."

Shindou slapped down a stone.  "Those rumours... they are not something I can control!" he shouted.

"Then why haven't you refuted them?" Waya asked.  "I can see you using the rumours for your advantage, Shindou.  You're that skilful.  I hear that you intimidate the younger players half the time.  I heard about what you said to Akashi.  You told him that you were going to win the Meijin title.  If you wanted to scare him, the rumours would work in your favour.  A lot of people still think highly of Sai."  He placed a stone.

Shindou replied, his fingers trembling with furious energy.  "Waya, I don't believe you.  Are you out of your mind?"

Waya shook his head.  "No, Shindou.  It's you who is out of your mind.  I didn't think you would do this.  Once was enough: you were young and ambitious--it was understandable.  But this time... you're acting like Kuwabara-sensei, using the reporters to further your own ends.  You still haven't changed from the person you were at twenty-five."

Touya tried to intervene.  "Waya-san, you are mistaken.  Shindou has nothing to do with the rumours."

Waya gave him a look.  "And I suppose the fact that those rumours come from your side has nothing to do with you, either?"

"What?" Both Touya and Shindou exclaimed.

"See the news for yourself later," Waya said.  His eyes flashed, his anger all but visible.  "I may not be able to beat you, Shindou, but I'm going to try."  He slapped down another stone, a direct challenge to Shindou's main territory.

Drawn by the challenge, Shindou ignored rumours for Go, and his concentration intensified.

Touya could tell that this game was not going to be simple, though. Waya seemed determined to be hostile. He had no qualms about making vicious attacks into Shindou's territory that paralyzed Shindou's ability to respond, even at the expense of his own territory. Touya could see that Shindou was finding it difficult to turn the game to his advantage.

Eventually, the game stumbled to a conclusion, and Touya's fears came to light.

"This is..." Touya frowned. He had never been superstitious, but a triple ko had always been considered to be a premonition of disaster. Murmurs of concern came from the watching players as well.

"Triple ko," Shindou said, his tone unaffected.

Waya glared at him. "Don't you know what a triple ko means?" he asked, not referring to the rumours for once.

Shindou frowned. "I've heard that it's a bad omen. But that's just a stupid saying, Waya," he said in his blunt way.

Waya's face grew red with anger. "A triple ko is unlucky! Don't you even care?" he demanded.

Shindou shook his head. "No," he said. He looked up, and saw Touya's expression. "Touya, surely you don't believe in this?" he demanded.

Staring at the triple ko game, Touya tried to answer, but could find no words.

----------(10)-----------

In the days to come, Touya would find his mind casting back to that game, wondering what, if any, cosmic ripples it had produced. Waya and the other spectators had been alarmed, true, but Touya himself had never believed in Go superstitions. Shindou, he could tell, was even more skeptical, and remained in his seat, refusing to listen to any more talk of bad luck. But Waya, angry and ignorant, had seemed like a large-sized figment of reality, intense and trivial, as he stumbled through the crowd of worried faces and out of the salon.

It seemed incredible that a mere coincidence on the Go board could cause such uneasiness. Touya dealt in abstractions and strategy, not omens and signs. It did not compute. As a result, the significance of the triple ko game sank into the back of his mind, to be replaced by the disaster in his professional life.

He lost his Meijin title.

In the past, he had wondered when this would happen. The focus that had always come easily to him now felt thin and overstretched, and even with Shindou to spur him on, Touya felt as though the Hand of God was sliding ever further out of his grasp. At the age of thirty-seven, he was long past the days when he was a prodigy. He was no longer the intrepid challenger to the established players. Instead, he was the giant that the young pros wanted to bring down. And even the best had to fall sometimes.

Seeing Akashi in the tatami room of the hotel in Hiroshima had been a chastening experience. The flare of challenge in Akashi's eyes saying, I want your title, was sharp and familiar, and at that moment the impact of numerous similar looks over the years hit him at once with immeasurable weight. The little group of younger players sitting to one side of the audience's space--Akashi's supporters--looked quaint and threatening at the same time.

Perhaps it was because no one had come so close to the title in years. He had sat down before the Go board on weakened knees.

"Please give me your guidance," Akashi said, his voice cool, at odds with the burning look in his eyes. I'm going to win, his eyes seemed to say.

Touya let his head fall as he bowed. "Please give me your guidance," he said in return.

That was all they exchanged, until Touya gathered the words that had been stuck in his throat for the last three hands, and resigned. The murmur of surprise among the audience that followed, the congratulations to Akashi, and the commentary on the game: all these seemed far away as Touya sat there, thinking about the loss of a title that had been his for so long that he had forgotten what it was like to be without it. But even with the heaviness in his belly, Touya remained hyper-aware of the one member of the audience who had been silent throughout the game.

Even worse than losing to Akashi, part of him thought, was losing in front of Shindou.

Shindou, who had taken the opportunity to go to Innoshima in the morning, who had made it for the game five minutes before it was due to start, and who had managed to disguise the tight, haunted look around his eyes with a harum-scarum entrance that had caused several annoyed mutters and stares. Throughout the game, Touya was conscious of Shindou's attention on the game, his silent will in the corner, as though he could play the game for him, but when he looked up again from the surrendered Go board, Shindou was nowhere to be seen.

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. He stumbled to his feet; the expression on his face deterring the reporters, avoiding the gazes of the spectators.

Outside the game room, he stopped dead when he came across the last person he expected to see.

"Takeshi-san," he said.

Takeshi had disliked the way Touya put an honorific to his name when they were together, and he now saw his ex-boyfriend's eyes narrowed for a split second at the 'san.' "Akira," Takeshi said. "I'm sorry about your loss."

Touya was aware of shaking his head, dazed. "Why are..." he stopped, and thought. Takeshi knew a large number of young pros and insei; it made him one of the more popular reporters for Go Weekly. "You're here to write about Akashi-san," he said. Stories about young, successful Go pros were always popular, unlike boring stories about middle-age pros.

"I'm also here to support you," Takeshi said, his eyes earnest.

Touya could feel his polite smile crack. Of all the people in the Go world, Takeshi was the one person Touya felt he could not show his weakness. Perhaps it was because they had a relationship together before, but Touya had always considered their break-up an amicable one, and he was unwilling to reveal any lack of his composure now. He stood frozen, willing himself not to break.

"Touya."

And there was Shindou, his casual clothes rumpled and his face tired, reaching for him with an outstretched hand.

Takeshi frowned, looking between him and Shindou.

Shindou's hand was still outstretched, and helplessly, Touya saw himself putting his own hand in Shindou's, feeling the calluses in his rival's hand, both their grips tightening at the same time.

"What…" Takeshi began.

"Excuse us, Ueyama-san," he heard Shindou say, before his rival pulled him away from Takeshi.

The rest of evening passed in a blur as Shindou led him down the hallway, and bore him away to the hotel bar where they ate in total silence, gazed into separate spaces, thought about Go games, and finally, got drunk together.

It was a long night despite that, and Touya found himself waking in the middle of the night, thinking about the missed opportunities in his game, haunted by the possibility that he could have won, somehow. He thought about Shindou sleeping away in the next room, wondering if Shindou tortured himself with such thoughts whenever he lost a game as well. Somehow, the idea of Shindou obsessing over a single game seemed ludicrous. Touya knew this was his own stubbornness; hadn't one game with Sai held his attention for years? Shindou was more likely to set his jaw and fight harder. That was the Shindou he knew.

The last game he saw Shindou play was with Waya, and Touya frowned a little as he remembered the results of that unusual game. He sat back in bed, letting his mind drift to other matters. If the triple ko's bad luck was supposed to refer to his lost title, Touya reflected with black humour, it had done its job.

But he was wrong; it was not over.

A triple ko game was supposed to forewarn of disaster, and while it made for perfect numerical correlation, Touya could not have expected three bouts of misfortune.

-------(11)--------

Shindou's place was burgled two nights later.

Kenichi and Kenji met him at the entrance. The police, at least, seemed to have left already, and Touya knew from his enquiries at the Go salon that Shindou had asked his students not to visit as he was still putting things back together.

Kenichi had his usual sullen expression, which lightened only a little when he saw who the visitor was. "Touya-sensei," he said, bowing in greeting.

"Haku-niisan!" Kenji clambered over to where Touya was removing his shoes and grabbed his hand.

"Excuse my intrusion," Touya said politely, accepting with a bow the slippers Kenichi set out for him. He laid a hand on Kenji's shoulder and squeezed it gently, before looking up at Kenichi. "How is your father? None of you were hurt, I hope. I heard that the burglars only entered the warehouse."

"We're all right. Dad is all right," Kenichi said, allowing himself a faint frown. "He's just moping over what the burglars took."

Kenji started to shake his head at that. "No!" he said. He looked up at Touya, tugging his hand, as though to pull him deeper into the house. "Dad is really sad, Haku-niisan! Come and talk to him."

His brother cuffed him lightly on the head. "Dad said not to call Touya-sensei 'Haku-niisan'," he told his brother. "Say 'Touya-sensei'."

"'Touya-sensei'," Kenji said, parrot-like, and tugged at Touya's arm again. "Come on! Dad will be happy to see you, and then he won't be sad anymore."

Kenichi had a mildly disgusted look on his face. "A grown man acting like that," he muttered, but relented when his younger brother turned a mournful look upon him. "Please go in, Touya-sensei." He nodded in the direction of Shindou's room.

"I'll show you!" Kenji said.

Touya was amused to see Kenji knocking quietly at a door, calling out, "Dad? Touya-sensei's here." Despite Shindou's complaints about his 'rude' sons, it seemed that both Kenichi and Kenji behaved far more politely than one would expect. Perhaps he was just too used to Shindou's impetuous habits.

His amusement faded when the door opened and he saw Shindou at the doorway, looking grey and ill.

"Shindou!" he exclaimed.

Shindou faced him unsmilingly, and every bone in his body radiated tiredness. "Touya," he said. "What brings you here?" he asked.

Before he could stop himself, Touya asked, "Are you all right, Shindou?"

"Dad?" Kenji looked from his father to Touya. His eyes grew frightened when neither answered him. "Dad?" he said again.

Touya watched as Shindou gave a start, and smiled at his son. "I'm fine," Shindou said. "Go and find your brother. Touya and I want to talk by ourselves, okay?"

Kenji was not old enough to see how difficult it was for Shindou to summon up a smile for reassurance. He nodded, "Okay!" and skipped in the direction of his room.

As soon as he turned the corner of the hallway, Shindou's smile disappeared. He regarded Touya. "You might as well come in," he said, stepping back to let Touya enter. "Though I warn you, I'm not in the mood to entertain anyone at the moment."

Shindou's room was cluttered. The bookshelves were filled with books of kifu and two portable Go boards were set out on a table littered with loose kifu. Shindou's Go board was tucked in a corner, well-used and gleaming.

Touya sat down, taking a seat next to where Shindou had been sitting. He waited while Shindou settled down, the dark expression re-settling itself on his face. "What did they take, Shindou?" he asked.

Shindou flinched, and closed his eyes.

Touya waited.

"The police said they were after the antiques in the warehouse," Shindou said after a while. "Grandpa had left me his collection, though I had no interest in them. But the Go boards..." he stared, unseeing, at his own Go board sitting in a corner. "Antique Go boards. They took them too."

Shock suddenly hit Touya. "You mean..."

"They took Sai's Go board, Touya!" Shindou said, raising his voice in agitation. "They took it!" He buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders began to shake.

"Shindou," Touya said, shifting to sit closer, hoping his proximity would comfort Shindou. To his shock, Shindou let his hands fall, and buried his face in Touya's shoulder.

"What am I going to do, Touya?" Shindou asked, with his voice harsh with suppressed emotion. "I lost Sai's Go board. It's my only connection to Sai, and I lost it!"

Carefully, Touya raised his arm and put it around Shindou's shoulders. In response, Shindou pressed closer, his breath dampening Touya's shirt. They sat like that, until Kenichi knocked on the door to bring them tea.

***

A week later, Kenichi and Kenji went missing.

---------(12)---------

To the best of his recollection, Touya Akira had seen Noguchi Asako only three times in his life: the first when Shindou introduced her at a formal dinner, the second at the funeral of Shindou's grandfather, and the third at the wedding.

Nonetheless, he recognized her immediately when a tall, smartly-dressed woman strode into the living room with all the haste that Shindou himself could muster, and coming to a stop in front of both of them, her fists clenched.

"Where are my sons, Shindou Hikaru?" she asked.

Shindou, who had flinched at the sight of his ex-wife, stood up. "Still missing," he said. "The police are doing everything…"

"Don't give me that!" she said, her voice rising.

Shindou paled even further.

Touya could see, underneath the carefully applied makeup, that her eyes were shadowed with sleeplessness.

She was grabbing the front of Shindou's shirt now. "I let them stay with you because you said you would take good care of them, Hikaru! How could you let this happen?" she demanded.

"I… I…" Shindou pushed her away, and sat down again, running his hands through his hair. "Did you think I wanted this to happen?" he shouted.

She deflated at that; her shoulders slumping, she sat down beside him. Touya couldn't help noticing that he had placed an arm around her, and was squeezing her shoulders.

"How did it happen?" Noguchi asked, visibly leaning against Shindou, all the anger drained from her.

"They were supposed to walk back from school together," Shindou said, his voice dulled by hours of unspoken worry. "Mari--she's our housekeeper here--she expected them back by three. When they didn't turn up by three-thirty, she called them, but Kenichi's phone was disconnected. Kenji's too.

"She went looking, and called me when she couldn't find them. I was angry at first," Shindou glanced at Touya.

They had been at a game when Mari's call came, and Touya remembered Shindou's annoyed huff at his housekeeper. But he had gone back at once. They searched the route between Shindou's house and the school, and all the places in between, and Touya could remember Shindou's increasing desperation as the hours passed. "We called the police three hours later," he said.

"Hikaru…" Noguchi placed a hand on her ex-husband's arm. "What's going to happen?" she asked. "It's been two days. If they've been kidnapped, shouldn't there be a ransom demand already?"

Shindou shook his head. "Nothing yet," he said. "I've been driving out at night and in the mornings, searching on my own, but I can't…" he swallowed, and glanced at Touya once more. "Touya. He's been helping me. You remember Touya, don't you, Asako?"

Finally, Touya met Noguchi's eyes for the first time that evening. "Noguchi-san," he said.

"Touya-san," she said.

***

There had been a time when Touya believed that the future in Japan for Shindou Hikaru would be as bright as his name--professionally and personally. He had been dating Fujisaki for two years when the first rumours of Sai re-surfaced, but despite previous disharmony about Shindou's single-minded devotion to Go, Touya never expected that relationship to crumble so quickly.

In the year Shindou won his three titles, he broke up with Fujisaki, met Noguchi, buried his grandfather, and made plans to leave Japan, seemingly for good. Touya had soldiered on, winning his titles and triumphs alone, but since Shindou returned, Touya had been trying to reconcile this new version of Shindou, who seemed so familiar and yet so different.

He stopped at the doorway, memorizing every detail about Shindou with habitual concentration. Shindou looked tired, yes, but it was a look that Touya was used to seeing. What made it different this time--what made it difficult for Touya to leave--was the misery on his rival's face. He once believed that only Go--and Sai--could put that expression on Shindou, but he was utterly wrong. Touya suddenly felt as though he no longer knew this Shindou.

"Are you going out again later?" he asked.

Shindou nodded. "I have to keep looking," he said.

"What about Noguchi-san?"

"She'll be here. Just as well, she needs the rest, after traveling across half the world like that." He hesitated, then said, "It's all right, Touya. Go back first. You need your rest too. Don't you have a game with that Kimura Sachiko tomorrow?"

Touya had already cancelled the game, but he nodded. "Take care of yourself, Shindou," he said. "I'll come by tomorrow… if it's all right?" he turned the last part into a question, suddenly terrified that his presence would be unnecessary now that Noguchi was back.

Shindou smiled tiredly. "Of course it's all right," he said.

Inside, he relaxed. "Let me know immediately if there's any news," he said.

Shindou nodded, and Touya turned to walk away, knowing that Shindou was leaning against the doorway, watching him leave.

***

Nonetheless, it was with a sense of disconnection when he saw that it was Noguchi at the door the next morning. She was dressed in a plain cotton dress, and she looked at home in the midst of the tatami floors and sliding doors. "Noguchi-san," he said.

"Touya-san," she greeted, and looked behind him.

"The police dispersed them," he explained, referring to the reporters and the curiosity seekers. "Is it true, that there's news?"

Noguchi seemed to bite back a comment, only stepping back. "You better come in first," she said. "I'll let Hikaru tell you."

Morning in the Shindou household seemed particularly cold, despite the sunlight flooding through the windows. Perhaps it was the lack of two noisy boys squabbling over breakfast and the sound of Shindou trying to keep peace. Touya followed Noguchi to the inner hall, the one where Shindou usually played Go.

Touya stopped short, standing in the doorway. There were four Go boards spread out in the room, all of different ages and styles. "Those are…" he blurted out.

Shindou, who was sitting between them, looked up at the sound of his voice. "Touya," he said.

"What's the meaning of this?" Touya asked, entering the room. "I thought there was news…"

"The police brought these back," Shindou said. "They found them in an antique shop in Yokohama."

"Your stolen Go boards," Touya said, realizing what Shindou was referring to. "You've got them back!"

Noguchi made a bitter-sounding noise. "I'd rather have my children back," she said.

Touya swallowed in shock. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

With effort, Noguchi shook her head. "I know. It's all right, Touya-san. I'll go and get you a drink," she said, and left.

Touya stepped forward, and sat down beside Shindou, who was staring at the Go board in front of him with unseeing eyes. "I'm sorry, Shindou," he said.

Shindou looked up, and finally met his eyes. "Don't apologize," he said. "I know you didn't mean it in that way." He gave a weak smile. "Tell you something that's going to shock you," he said, clearly in an attempt at levity. "Sai's board isn't here."

---------(13)----------

"What… What do you mean? Sai's board…" he stopped, looking around at the boards again.

"It's still missing," Shindou said. "I don't know if someone bought it first--the police are checking the antiques shop's sale records--or the thieves never sold it to the shop at all."

"Do you think it's connected to…"

Shindou shook his head. "I don't know. Why would anyone take Sai's Go board, and my sons?" he asked. "It makes no sense." He stretched out a hand and ran it down the side of the nearest board, as though to comfort himself by the gesture. "If someone wants Sai, they should talk to me," he said. "Who else knows more about Sai? Hell, I was Sai, in a way. My sons have nothing to do with him."

"Yes." Touya was quiet for a while, thinking. "But you have spent the last twelve years denying your connection to Sai," he said.

Shindou's jaw fell.

***

The news that the date for the final game of the Tengen title had been confirmed sent waves of confusion through the Go community in Tokyo. There was none who did not know that Shindou's sons had already been missing for three whole weeks, and expectations from the police were low. Some were aghast that Shindou could bring himself to play at a time like this. Rumours, as were to be expected, ran high.

When Shindou finally appeared at the Go Institute where the game would be played, a huge crowd had gathered, and at the realization that he had indeed arrived, started to murmur amongst themselves. Touya watched as Ogawa Toru, the official for the game, approached and talked to Shindou for a few seconds, before bowing and leading him to the Yugen no ma.

Touya took a seat in the viewing room, and found to his surprise that sitting opposite him was the new Meijin. The younger man looked even more surprised, and somewhat discomfited.

"Akashi-san," Touya said. "I didn't know you were interested in Shindou's games."

Akashi gave a small shake of his head, almost instinctively. "No. I came to see… Ochi-sensei play."

Touya hid a smile. Akashi was brilliant at Go, but he was young at life. "Ah, you're Ochi's supporter, then. Good, he doesn't have many, especially in this crowd." Who had all come to see Shindou.

"No!" Akashi flushed at little at his outburst. "I mean," he controlled his voice with effort. "I mean, I am interested in Ochi-sensei's Go, that's all."

"Ah," Touya said, speaking far more gently than he usually did. "I'm here to support Shindou, though. He and his Go. Besides," he eyed Akashi, "Shindou has won the two games. He only needs one more win to get the Tengen title." Akashi, he knew, was about to enter the Tengen league, and he faced the prospect of challenging Shindou if he beat the others in the league.

Akashi fidgeted and dropped his gaze, turning to the projection screen where the game would be displayed. On the screen, Ochi and Shindou bowed to each other to start, both their eyes on the Go board. The atmosphere became tense, and the tightness spread even to the viewing room. The other spectators who had arrived in the room became eerily silent as Shindou played the first hand.

Shindou's Go had always a pleasure to watch, for he was capable of adroit, surprising hands that made every strategy fresh again.

However, Touya had something else on his mind. Ever since their conversation about the missing Go board, Shindou had been extraordinarily silent about Sai. He also started to make excuses not to play Go with him, something Touya would have put down to worry over the boys' disappearance if it weren't for the fact that Shindou was practising Go continuously. Noguchi said that when Shindou wasn't studying kifu, he was playing online games. When Touya commented on it casually, Shindou simply avoided the topic.

"Shindou-san's moves are really good," someone commented into the silence.

"Ochi-san is strong too. Those stones he placed on the star-points are going to be useful, I bet."

The other watchers were already copying Shindou and Ochi's moves on various portable Go boards in the room. Although the video screen showed the entire Go board clearly, most Go players still preferred to recreate the game by hand. Opposite him, Akashi was frowning over the replayed moves on the Go board before him.

Touya, however, watched the video screen intently. The game was in the beginning stages, but already, it was starting to show the classic brilliance of Shindou's Go: his opening moves were flawless, and denied Ochi any openings to exploit. Ochi's Go had always relied on his comprehensive analytical skills, a superb strategic grasp of the game, and as some said, pure dogged persistence. With Shindou, though, his superiority receded to mere points; Shindou had his own analytical prowess, his strategic skill, and his determination.

Then Shindou attacked: a single black stone into Ochi's territory. It looked like one of his typical bold moves, but Touya felt his eyes narrow at the hand. It was not the best hand, even if it looked like that to other watchers. But Touya knew Shindou's Go so well that he could tell that at any other time, Shindou would have played a less obvious, but ultimately more powerful, extension of his left territory. There was something else going on here.

Akashi placed the stones delicately as Ochi fought back, ousting Shindou and wasting his stones, even as Shindou began to encroach into the upper right.

Touya began to analyze the hands as the game went on, matching it with a pattern he knew he had seen before. It was like Shindou's Go, but subtly different from the Shindou he had been playing with for the last twenty years. But what was it?

Ochi bowed to resign at the end of a three-and-a-half hour fight. He looked so furious on the video screen that Touya half-expected him to take off to the nearest bathroom (a habit that had stopped many years ago).

Shindou bowed his head to accept the admission, and opposite him, Akashi whistled softly as he slapped on the stone that had driven the final nail into the coffin of Ochi's Tengen title. As Shindou and Ochi began to discuss the game, the other watchers began chattering among themselves.

Touya almost had to step over the bodies of fans to get to Shindou. It was as though the other players had lost their apprehension about Shindou's turning up for the game even with his sons still missing, and were mobbing him.

"Akira," a voice said softly, and Touya glanced up to see Ueyama Takeshi. "Takeshi-san," he greeted. He had expected Go Weekly to send someone more senior to cover the final game of the Tengen title, but Takeshi had always been enthusiastic about his assignments.

Takeshi glanced back from where he must have been, the Yugen no ma. "I should have thought you would be here to watch Shindou-sensei play," he said.

Touya smiled. "It's the final game of the Tengen title, after all," he said.

"It's incredible that Shindou-sensei was able to play so well even with his sons…" Realizing what he had been about to say, he stopped. "Is there any news?" he asked. "I heard that the police found the stolen Go boards?"

Takeshi was also a reporter, Touya reminded himself. "Yes, but I don't know anything other than that," he said. "Excuse me, I need to speak to Shindou," he inclined his head in a bow and walked towards the Yugen no ma.

Shindou was talking to the main game official, Ogawa Toru, but he raised his head instantly when Touya entered, as though he was hyper-aware of Touya's person.

"Shindou-sensei, are you sure?" the game official asked, and Shindou turned back to him.

"Yes. I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble, but that is my plan," he said, and bowed.

The games official bowed as well. "Of course, Shindou-sensei," he said. "We will arrange it as soon as possible. I shall contact the other players to inform them that your games schedule will resume."

Shindou nodded. "Thank you, Ogawa-san. I shall look forward to further news from you. Excuse me," he bowed again, and his eyes met Touya's. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed to be expecting something.

"We need to talk," Touya said.

Shindou only led him to the car, not saying a thing.

They were on the way back when Shindou said, "I'm resuming my schedule, Touya. I've put off my responsibilities for too long."

Touya nodded. He had half-expected it, in fact, ever since he identified what felt so unusual about the game.

"What did you think about the game?" Shindou asked a moment later.

Touya didn't hesitate. "You played like you were twelve," he said flatly.

Shindou stopped the car, and turned to face him directly. "What?" he said, outrage colouring his voice.

"No." Touya met Shindou's eyes, wishing he knew how to express himself better. "I meant, you're playing like you are twelve. When you were twelve," he added insistently, his voice breaking on the 'you'.

--------(14)--------

To Touya's surprise, Shindou made no response to his pronouncement. He merely started driving again, and watching Tokyo whiz by in silence, Touya, began to pick mentally through what he knew of Shindou's activities since the boys went missing.

All signs pointed to a distraught parent paralyzed by fear and anxiety, someone who was unable to do anything but live with the agony of not knowing what had happened. Touya could sense the hysteria of a parent, pushed to the limits of endurance, beneath Shindou's outwardly controlled surface.

Yet, Touya knew his rival as well, if not better, than he knew himself. There was something more--the indefinable strength that Shindou retained even in the darkest moments. True, for the most part, Touya had seen that strength only in Go games, but this was Shindou, who had left Japan to start all over in a new country at the age of twenty-five. Shindou had long made that strength part of himself.

They reached Shindou's house before Touya could say anything else. There was an unfamiliar car in front: small and anonymous-looking, a common dark blue colour, and so ordinary that Touya's pulse began to race.

At the sight of the car, Shindou had already stopped his own, nearly falling down in his haste to reach the front door. The sudden hope lighting his face made Touya's heart clench, and he followed closely.

The door opened, and Touya found himself holding his breath.

He didn't know what he expected. In the days after his father died, Touya had started to miss him everywhere. He kept expecting to see his father when he entered a room, or when he went to the Go salon, or the Go Institute--and even to the most implausible of places, like the supermarket. He knew by the way Shindou's eyes sometimes searched the crowd that the same thing was happening to him, too.

But the doorway was empty of children.

Instead Touya could see two adults emerging from the inside, and recognized one of them as Noguchi. The other man was wearing a plain-looking shirt and jeans, and looked rather young. Noguchi bowed to him, and disappeared into the house, leaving the door open.

Shindou's shoulders had drooped at the same time Touya took in the sight, but they straightened again as he approached the front door, his steps heavy but quick.

"Morita-san," Shindou said.

The man looked up and gave a small bow of greeting. "Shindou-san," he said.

"Has there-" Shindou began, but glanced back in Touya's direction at the man's pointed look.

Without knowing why, Touya stiffened.

Shindou waited until Touya joined them, before he said, "Morita-san, this is Touya Akira, an old friend. Touya, this is Morita Kazuya."

Touya bowed, and straightened to find himself looking into a pair of serious-looking eyes.

"Touya-sensei," Morita said, his voice low and polite. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Shindou-san often mentions you to me."

Yet this was the first time Touya had heard about this man. It was clear that there was something between Shindou and Morita. There was an uncomfortable feeling at the pit of Touya's stomach as he replied, "Pleased to meet you."

Morita gave a brief, polite smile. "I wish it were under better circumstances, Touya-sensei," he said, and Touya realized he was referring to the boys. Without waiting for Touya to reply, Morita turned to Shindou. "I'll contact you soon," he said.

Shindou frowned. "There's still no…"

"We'll talk later, Shindou-san," Morita said, interrupting him while his eyes flickered in Touya's direction. "I'm sorry to rush off, but I have to catch a train." He bowed to the two of them, and walked towards his car.

Touya stared as the car sped off.

"Come on, Touya," Shindou's voice roused him. "Let's go in."

***

"Asako introduced us," Shindou said as they entered and removed their shoes. "Don't be fooled--he looks young, but he's actually very serious and focused. That's what I like about him."

"Shindou," Touya began, but didn't know what else to say. There was a sour taste in his mouth.

Shindou ushered him to the living room, where Noguchi was clearing up plates and cups from the table. Touya greeted her in his usual manner, noting that the strain was beginning to tell on her: she was thinner, and the shadows under her eyes showed the lack of sleep.

"Did Morita-san say anything else?" she asked Shindou.

Shindou shook his head. "Just that he had to catch a train," he said to his ex-wife.

"To Yokohama," Noguchi said. "He said he had to meet someone there." She glanced at Touya, and excused herself.

Touya was beginning to feel like an outsider.

"How was the game?" Noguchi asked, entering again with two glasses of water.

"I won," Shindou said, sitting down with a murmur of thanks. He drained the glass.

Noguchi's expression was surprisingly neutral. "Congratulations, I suppose," she said. "I'm going out," she added.

"Will you be back later?" Shindou asked.

Noguchi paused, and nodded.

***

After she left, Shindou led the way to his study.

"Shindou, what is going on?" Touya asked. They were sitting in front of Shindou's Go board, and the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows into the room.

"Play a game with me," Shindou said.

Touya assented with a quick nod, and stared in surprise as Shindou placed black stones on the eight star points and the tengen, and pushed the go-ke of black stones towards him. "Shindou, what-"

His words froze when Shindou glanced up, his eyes hard with determination. "I need to learn how to catch up from behind, Touya. They have the advantage now, but I can't let them win. I won't. Help me."

Touya reached out to accept the go-ke in sudden comprehension. They were no longer just playing Go now.

The game began.

"Morita-san is a private detective," Shindou said when they were into their first corner engagement.

The Go stone fell from Touya's fingertips. "What?" he whispered.

Shindou flashed a quick, mischievous smile, his mood lulled by the rhythm of the game. "I just couldn't let your jealousy affect the game any more," he said with exaggerated concern.

Touya narrowed his eyes, wishing he could drop a piano on Shindou by sheer mental effort.

Shindou's smile widened at his reaction, before it faded away. "It's not something the police approved of--interfering in their investigation and so on--but they haven't showed any results either, have they?" he asked.

"Morita-san is helping you to look for Kenichi and Kenji?" Touya asked. He picked up his stone and played it.

Shindou nodded. "He's rather young, but according to Asako's friend, who recommended him, he has a lot of experience with cases involving children." He studied the Go board and replied to Touya's hand, his gaze becoming abstract with thought.

"How long has this been going on?" Touya asked, continuing to play.

"Nearly two weeks." There was a pause, before Shindou continued. "I know it was fast, to pull in a private detective after only a week or so. But I could sense it, Touya." He played another hand, and for the next fifteen minutes, they were locked in battle for the lower left corner. Shindou finally gained it, and for the next hand he played near the centre. "There's something strange about all of this," he murmured.

"What do you mean?" Touya asked, studying the board. Shindou's advantage was less than he probably hoped for, but he knew from experience that Shindou was tenacious enough to battle for every little bit of territory.

"I was out of my mind with worry," Shindou said, his voice sounding almost mechanical. "It was even worse than losing Sai, because Sai was already dead. But if anything happened to Kenichi or Kenji…" he stopped, and placed both hands on the floor to calm himself. "I can't lose them," he said, his words coming out in a rush.

"Shindou…"

Shindou shook his head, took a stone again and attacked the centre. His stone was placed crookedly, but the position was just right.

Touya parried, using the tengen stone as a lever to strengthen his territory.

"I could sense it," Shindou said as the pace of that struggle faltered after a few hands, neither side gaining on the other. "It was no ordinary disappearance or kidnapping." He chucked bitterly. "As though such things can ever be ordinary."

Touya managed to stop himself from replying with an inane 'They'll be all right'. Instead, he attacked Shindou, cutting off his escape on the right. Shindou replied with a recklessness that Touya seldom saw, and they rushed into a tussle that expanded to the entire right side.

"This has something to do with Sai," Shindou said, taking part of the lower right by using the dead group there so skillfully that Touya raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "So I told Morita-san about Sai."

"What?" He didn't mean to sound so accusatory.

Shindou dropped his stone to take up his fan for a moment. "Not everything," he said. "Just… about the rumours. That people thought I was Sai--he can check the news for that--and how Sai was known to use Shuusaku's Go. And that the only Go board that is still missing is Shuusaku's Go board."

"In other words, you asked him to look into a connection between Sai and the boys' disappearance."

Shindou nodded, and laid down his fan to resume playing. "Asako thinks it's crazy, but she's as desperate as I am, if not more. She feels guilty, because she gave me custody. But then Asako doesn't know the whole truth about Sai."

Touya thought about it even as his eyes followed the patterns of black and white on the Go board. "What does Morita-san think?" he asked.

Shindou gave a small smile. "At first he thought I was crazy, too, but it looks like he's starting to think that my suspicions weren't totally ridiculous." He played a jump into Touya's territory.

Touya countered it, but he wasted a hand doing so. "What has he found out?" he asked.

"He talked to a few people at the hospital, and he thinks someone eavesdropped on my conversation with Touya-sensei," Shinodu said, playing a hane. "When I told him about Sai, I mean. You suspected that too; and Morita has seen the rumours from the news for himself. I'm afraid he now thinks badly of me for telling a dying man a ghost story."

There was the sound of a choked laugh, and Touya realized that it came from him. He dropped the stone back into the go-ke, and frowned at the situation on the Go board. Despite the handicap, he was not gaining as he hoped; Shindou's revelations were as unsettling as they were distracting.

In addition to that, Touya realized, Shindou was still playing in the way he did with Ochi: bold, tricky, enticing his opponent into traps. Exactly like when he was twelve. When they were twelve. "What else?" he asked.

"He and I have been checking to see who is making enquiries about Shuusaku's Go board in online communities."

Touya saw an opening, and played it. "What did you find out?"

Shindou's eyes were narrowed and focused on the hand Touya had just played. "Eventually?" he asked. "Someone believes the ghost story."

"What?" Touya asked, confused.

At that moment Shindou replied to his hand, and they were suddenly wrestling for that narrow strip of territory at the top which pointed directly to the centre. Touya managed to cut Shindou's territory, but it turned out that Shindou was only making use of the opportunity to revive his stones in the centre, and he managed to occupy that before Touya could stop him.

They played, and as the room started to grow dim from the setting sun the game ended, and Touya felt like swearing. The outcome was still unsatisfactory, even with a handicap. The Go board showed the pace of their conversation, at once leisurely and at once murderous. Yes, it was familiar. Sai's Go, just like it was when Shindou was twelve. Touya was beginning to understand.

Shindou's gaze across the Go board was intent and expectant at the same time.

Touya nodded once, and stared directly at him. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

----------(15)-----------

Shindou's study had always been neat, an unexpected contrast to his outwardly easy-going manner.  Touya remembered being surprised when he first visited Shindou's home to play Go, to see his possessions carefully put away, nothing out of place.  That neatness was somewhat deceptive, though, as he had learnt after Shindou moaned about misplacing an autograph card with with half of Kurata's signature--and somehow, only Shindou would manage to get half of an autograph--as well as his newest game schedule, his recent kifu, and his cell phone, all in that orderly-looking space.

Parenthood and professional life did not change that state of affairs.  Volumes of manga were stacked neatly with books of kifu, children's books, and tiny plastic action figures, toy robots and cars shared space with bowls of stray Go stones.  Shindou was probably also the only pro who also owned a Go timer clock in the shape of Doraemon, which took pride of place on a low shelf.

Now the study was a mess.

The walls were covered with sheets of paper filled with kifu, and the floor was filled with half a dozen portable and whole Go boards, all showing games in various stages.  Entire stretches of the ceiling-high shelves were empty.  His desk was cluttered high with half-opened books, each wedging the other open, so that the whole structure looked like a fantastic sculpture of books, and numerous kifu, some old, some recent, and some half-finished. 

Touya entered after Shindou, taking in the entire room at a glance.

Shindou was staring at his study as though it was the first time he had seen in in days.  "I suppose I should have cleaned it up..." he muttered, before he turned to regard Touya.  "Well?"

Touya walked closer to study the kifu on the walls. "This is what you've been busy with?" he murmured, repressing a start as he recognized the games.  A jolt out of the past, indeed.  He frowned at one in particular.

"Yeah," Shindou said, turning to one side to look at his desk, at a photograph that showed Kenichi and Kenji, making faces at the camera.  "All those that I could dig up," he said.

 "You've managed to dig up a lot," Touya said, looking at the kifu that had caught his attention.  Maybe it was a coincidence that Shindou had placed it here, but the memories welled up, anyway.  Even now, he could remember the anticipation that had nearly made him sick, the nervousness that made his heart beat twice as fast, and the excitement that had made his hand tremble as he logged on.

It had been one of the last online games he had played for a long, long time. 

"I hope it's enough," Shindou said.

The tone of his voice made Touya look up, even as he realized what had been bothering him ever since he saw the kifu.  "Shindou, this is too much," he said.

Shindou looked up from the photograph.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Sai was online for only two months," Touya said.  "But this..." he looked around the room, and at the desk, his eyes catching the titles of the books there.  "He didn't play that many games."  He paused.  "Did he?"

"He also played with me, you know," Shindou said, moving to the back of the desk to pull up a chair.  "And before he played with me, he played with you, with the players at the Kaio tournament, with perfect strangers."

Touya took a step back, his gaze running over the walls again.  There must have been hundreds of kifu there.  "All of them?" he asked.  "You remembered them all?  Shindou!"

Shindou, who had rested his head on his hands, looked up at his exclamation.  "It wasn't easy.  It was so long ago," he said, a trace of weariness in his voice.  "You know, I keep saying, I won't forget him.  But I hadn't realized how many of our games I'd forgotten."

Touya was speechless.  While it was true that Go players, especially professional Go players of Shindou's caliber, could recall past Go games with an accuracy that dumbfounded outsiders, he was sure that it was not possible to remember every single game you had played.  "That was more than twenty years ago!" he finally said.  "How... how..."

"Some were easy, you know," Shindou said.  "His games with you, for example, and with Touya-sensei.  But the others... he beat this old geezer in a run-down Go salon in twenty hands once, do you know?  Simply amazing.  But the hundreds of casual games we played..."

"They are all here?" Touya asked, feeling breathless just at the thought.

Shindou nodded.  "As many as I could recall."

"Incredible."  Touya looked at his rival.  "You weren't just studying Sai's Go, were you, all this month?  You were trying to remember them!  I would have thought that was impossible."

Shindou smiled, and lifted a lock of his hair that was hanging in front of his eyes for inspection, squinting at it.  "Well, my hair hasn't turned white from the effort.  But it would still have been worth it, even so."

"And Shuusaku's Go?" Touya asked, nodding at the books on the desk.

"Well, Sai's Go is similar to Shuusaku's Go, especially when he was beginning to play NetGo."  Shindou straightened, and began to put away the books, one by one.  "I hadn't even realized, until you mentioned it just now, that I was beginning to play like Sai," he said.

Touya frowned, as he took a seat beside Shindou, tapping on the touch-sensitive screen sitting to one side.  The screen image immediately resolved to show the sign-on client for an online Go site.  "This won't cause any difficulty?" he asked, his voice low.  He watched as Shindou's eyes took on a faraway look, the look of a Go master calculating possibilities upon possibilities.

"No," Shindou said.  "I don't think it will.  I just need to be careful in the future, that's all.  And against stronger opponents... I won't have the chance to pretend to be Sai--I'll be too busy fighting my own fight."

"But..."

"No." Shindou shook his head.  "Even if someone notices it, like you did, I can't back away now.  This is something that I must do."

Touya understood.  This was not a game, and Shindou was not after a perfect strategy.  However imperfect or outwardly foolish this was, Shindou was committed.  He nodded.  "Shall we start, then?" he asked.

Shindou glanced at him, before turning to the screen, shifting closer so that Touya could feel his warm presence just behind him.  "Here," he pointed.  At the prompt for username, he entered S-A-I.

---------(16)---------

Despite the circumstances, Touya had been at first secretly thrilled to delve into the intricacies of a playing style that had once mesmerized and awed Go communities around the world.  Sai's Go was endlessly intriguing; it was bold and aggressive at the beginning, which lured the opponent into making mistakes, and when a game reached yose, it was as delicate as a spider's web, surrounding the helpless opponent with deadly finality. 

What was most unsettling, Touya thought, was that he was losing the ability to differentiate Sai's Go from his own.  He and Shindou had worked out a schedule, but Touya was playing the bulk of the online games, while resuming his own schedule of official games--admittedly not as heavy as Shindou's--and teaching sessions.

"Sensei, did you hear the news?  Sai is back!"

Touya gave a start, and the Go stone fell from his fingers.  "Excuse me?" he asked, looking up.  The meeting room that he used for teaching sessions was only half-filled today, and his students, who were huddled around the Go board watching the game, all looked up.

Fujino Rika, his youngest student and current opponent, was beaming at him.  "Sai, the online player?  I watched a game by him the other day."

"Are you sure it's him and not an impostor?" Matsuba Hiro, still an insei, asked doubtfully.  "There are always Sai impostors online."

"It's him," Fujino nodded.  "He played a game with CKT from China, and won.  CKT's a real pro, eight-dan, too.  Sai also defeated Takabe seven-dan last week.  I think it's the real Sai.  All those impostors have never won games against pros.  At least, not high-ranking pros."

Matsuba frowned.  "Really?  It's him?"

"Go online and see for yourself," Fujino said.  She nodded at Touya.  "Sensei, isn't that exciting?  You played with Sai before, right?  The real Sai?"

He managed a smile for her enthusiasm. "It was a long time ago.  When I was even younger than you, in fact."  Fujino, who had turned pro last year, was only fifteen, belying the fact that she was climbing the ranks with the verve of someone much older.

Fujino's eyes grew envious.  "What wouldn't I give to play with Sai!" she exclaimed.  "My friends and I have tried to invite him, but there are so many other people clamoring for his attention."

"What do your friends say?  Do they also think that it's really Sai?" he asked, curious to see how quickly news about Sai's 'return' was spreading.  Morita, who monitored online activity during and after the games, had assured him and Shindou that discussion groups were buzzing with talk, as well as analysis of Sai's games, but he wanted to know what Fujino thought.

She nodded.  "Yeah!" she exclaimed, then thought about it.  "Well, they are still a bit doubtful, but we're comparing the recent games with the old Sai games we have on record, and they follow the same style."

Touya felt an unexpected jolt of relief at that. 

"But Sensei, I think your game is getting a bit like Sai's, too," she said, looking down at the Go board between them.  "Are you studying Sai's games?"

Only the iron control he had honed in his career allowed him to nod, without a trace of irony, and say, "I've always enjoyed studying Sai's style."

***

"Touya-san, it's you."

He looked up to see Noguchi, warmly wrapped in a dark brown coat against the chilly air.

"Noguchi-san," he said.

"You're on your way to the Go Institute, aren't you?" she asked.

He nodded.  He had, in fact, just finished a game as Sai, and had decided, on the spur of the moment, to catch the last part of Shindou's game with Takaba eight-dan.  "Yes.  Noguchi-san, how about you?"

"I was hoping to catch Hikaru for dinner," she began, before her expression turned frustrated.  "It's going to be Kenji's birthday soon, you know that?  I just couldn't stay in that house for another minute, seeing the boys' stuff around the place, and them not around... Sorry." She calmed herself, and attempted a smile.  "Why don't we find a place to something to drink, while we wait for Hikaru to finish his game?" she asked.  "I'll send him a message to let him know where we are."

He hesitated; despite his long friendship with Shindou, he and Noguchi had never spent much time together.  "Of course," he said, out of politeness, if nothing else.  "There's a cafe just ahead."

"Yeah, I know it.  Just about every Go player in Tokyo has frequented it, at some point in their lives," she said.  "Hikaru brought me there a few times when we were dating.  We would run into pros, insei, and reporters... I was so annoyed at him for that," she revealed as she led the way into the plainly-furnished cafe, taking a table at a corner without hesitation.

Noguchi Asako, Touya recalled from Shindou, did not play Go--if he had to guess, it was the main reason for her breakup with Shindou.

They were seated with cups of coffee when Noguchi spoke again.  "I'm sorry for being so pushy.  If I don't talk to anyone, I'll burst, I think."

He didn't know what to say.  "It's been hard on you," he finally murmured.

Noguchi gave a bitter laugh.  "Hard on me, hard on Hikaru, hard on his parents, and even on that housekeeper."  She drew a deep breath.  "Hard doesn't even describe it."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize," Noguchi said, a little too loudly.  Then, more softly, apologetically, "I have enough of people telling me they're sorry.  As though they're already dead.  At least you're doing something, even if it sounds harebrained to me."

Touya remained quiet.

"All I know is that Hikaru believes that doing all of this... will help to find Kenichi and Kenji."  She narrowed her eyes.  "He's never told me the truth about Sai, but I know he told you."

He gave a start.  "Shindou-" he began, trying for a denial.

She started shaking her head.  "It doesn't matter.  I know that it's Hikaru's secret to tell.  It's got something to do with the way he started to learn Go when he was young, isn't it?  And that fan he carries around, there's a connection to Sai as well, right?  He acts like Sai gave it to him, sometimes."

Touya choked.  "Noguchi-san, I-"

"Never mind."  She gave a bitter laugh, looking down into her coffee in lieu of the frantic apologizing that usually accompanied any faux pas in Japan.  "I don't understand Go.  I don't really like it, either," she confessed.  "It always seemed so pointless, moving pieces of stone around on a piece of wood.  That was the reason he married me, you know," she said.

Hearing that sudden, mystifying revelation, Touya blinked.  "What?" he asked.

She smiled, though it looked more like a grimace.  "We never talked about it, but I know Hikaru.  I've always thought that after his break-up with Fujisaki-san, Hikaru went and found someone who was the total opposite of her."  She bit her lower lip.  "Someone like me.  I didn't like Go, and I hated the idea of becoming a housewife, especially not for a man who was totally dedicated to his career.  There was chemistry between us, though, so when Hikaru proposed, I accepted."

Touya was starting to feel embarrassed at the flood of confidence.  Being intensely private, he had never been the type to talk about personal matters with just anyone.

"...when Kenichi was born, it was the best time in our marriage," she went on.  "We were starting to get used to living in Amsterdam.  Hikaru was still finding his feet in Europe, and he had plenty of time for us."  She took a sip of her coffee--she took it black, Touya noticed--and smiled, a little grimly.  "It sounds awful to say it, but the fact that he was considered a failure at that time probably allowed us to remain married for a few more years.  Later, when he became more successful, we spent less and less time together.

"By the time Kenji was five, we were already separated.  Then Hikaru decided to come back to Japan, and that was the last straw for me.  I couldn't stand being known as the wife of Shindou Hikaru, Go pro."  She drank more coffee.  "I thought it was enough to know that Kenichi and Kenji were fine with him.  And now..."  Her hand on the table curled into a fist, the sign of someone trying to control her emotions.

"We'll find them soon," he couldn't help saying, and reached out on impulse to take her hand.  "Noguchi-san, Kenichi and Kenji will be fine."

She snatched away her as though she had been burnt.  "No!"

"I'm sorry," Touya said, not knowing what else to say.

She rubbed the side of her palm, where his fingers had been.  "No, I should be the one saying that.  It's not you, Touya-san.  It's just that I can't accept comforting words now.  They make me feel as though I'm giving up hope."  She was silent, and pushed her coffee to one side.  "You're a kind man, Touya-san.  We... Hikaru is lucky to have a friend like you."

"No," he said, "I'm lucky to have Shindou as a friend.  I can't imagine what my life would have been if I never knew him."

"Because you're rivals," she said, surprising him with her insight.  "You can't play a game with just one person, right?  You need an opponent."

He nodded.  Noguchi might not play Go, but she had already grasped the meaning of the game.

They sat in silence until Shindou came.

***

"I came to find Shindou," Waya announced.

Touya looked up to see the other pro standing at the counter, looking at Inoue Kaori. 

"I'm sorry, Shindou-sensei is at home today," she said, sounding a little bored.  As the receptionist, she had already repeated the same line more than a dozen times that day.

"Sensei is preparing for a game tomorrow," Kuroda said, approaching them.  "Waya-sensei," he greeted, his face a little wary, probably remembering the way Waya had accused Shindou of making use of Sai's name for his own ends.

Waya frowned.  "Kuroda-kun, right?" he asked, and caught sight of Touya, and walked towards him.  "Touya, you're here as well?"

"Shindou asked me to help Kuroda-kun to practise for the Wakajishishen, since it's this weekend," Touya said, standing up in greeting.  "What happened, Waya?"

"'What happened?'" Waya repeated.  "Don't tell me you don't know."  He approached Touya, his face darkening in a scowl.

"Don't know what?" Touya asked.

Kuroda, glancing between them, took a few steps as though to intervene, but retreated when Touya gave him a quick, surreptitious shake of the head.

"Sai!" The name burst from Waya's lips like an epithet.

"What about Sai?" Touya asked.

Waya narrowed his eyes.  "Don't pretend you don't know!  Sai. He's appeared, and he's playing NetGo.  I played with him last night."

Touya had to quench a sudden impulse to murmur, yes, I know, Zelda.  Waya was much more aggressive when he played NetGo, but his style was still recognizable.  Besides, he had been using the same username all these years.

"And I know for a fact that Shindou was still playing with Takaba eight-dan when I ended the game, so it couldn't be him."

Touya remained silent, but he pulled up a chair at the nearest table, and sat down.

Waya responded to the unspoken invitation, sitting down opposite him.  "You know, I've always thought that Shindou was Sai," he said.

There was a clutter.  Both of them glanced up to see Kuroda scrambling to pick up the Go stones which had spilled from the go-ke in his hands, muttering apologies.

Waya ignored him, his eyes on Touya.  "When Sai first appeared, I played a game with him, and when we finished, he taunted me.  It made me think that Sai was a kid just like me."

This was not new to Touya, but he nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"When I got to know Shindou, I suspected him because he mentioned a couple of things that only Sai would know."

"But Shindou has said that he isn't Sai," Touya pointed out.

"I know!" Waya burst out, frustrated enough that he was running through a hand through his hair like the boy he was twenty years ago.  "I know I accused Shindou of using Sai for his own career, but that was because I kept suspecting that he was Sai.  And last night I realized that I was wrong.  The Sai that I played with... isn't a fake.  It's really Sai.  So..." he looked away.  "I wanted to apologize."

That came as a surprise.  "I... see," Touya said.

Waya scowled.  "I don't know why I'm telling you this.  You didn't even know that Sai was back!"  His eyes narrowed suddenly.  "Or are you just pretending?  You're hiding something, aren't you?  Touya, if you're keeping anything..."

"Touya-sensei doesn't know anything!" Kuroda burst out.  He was suddenly standing before the two of them, the go-ke still clenched in his hands.

"Wait..." Touya tried to calm him down, but the younger player was glaring at Waya.

"You shouldn't threaten Touya-sensei," Kuroda went on.  "He doesn't know anything about Sai."

"Kuroda-kun, it's all right," Touya said.

"In fact, Touya has been trying to play with Sai, too!"  He turned to Touya.  "Right, Touya-sensei?"

"God, I hope not."

Both Touya and Kuroda turned to Waya, who had spoken.

"What do you mean?" Touya asked.

"Think about it," Waya met Touya's eyes with grim humour.  "When Sai first appeared, you played a game with him, and he disappeared for nearly two years.  Sai appeared again to play with your father, before he disappeared once more.  Do you begin to see a pattern here?"

"You mean..." Kuroda began, hesitant, his show of temper forgotten.

Waya nodded.

Touya allowed himself to smile.  "What you're saying is, I shouldn't try to invite Sai to a game?" he asked.

Waya looked alarmed.  "You're not going to do so, are you?" he asked.

Even as his thoughts raced, Touya could find the humour in the situation.  I need to talk to Shindou about this, he suddenly thought, and remained silent.

"You're not going to invite Sai to play, right?" Waya asked, sounding worried now.  "Oi, Touya!"

---------(17)---------

Somehow, death threats seemed a little extreme.

He had been pretending to be Sai for three weeks.  Shindou had been doing it for as long, though at a lower frequency.  Kenji and Kenichi had been missing for nearly two months, with no clue as to their location or well-being.

That some anonymous person felt it right to threaten violence over a mere NetGo game seemed like a cosmic joke.

Touya wrenched his mind back from that avenue of thought, which would only lead to more distraction.

A knock at the door drew his attention.  "Akira-san, there's someone to see you."

"Who is it, Mother?" Touya asked, hearing the wariness in his voice as he stood up to face the door.  He looked down at the hand-bound book in his hand, and slid it under the heavy volume of A History of Japanese Igo.

The door opened.

"Hello, Akira," the visitor was standing beside his mother, his suit looking a little rumpled.

"Takeshi-san," Touya said in surprise.

His mother mentioned something about giving them their privacy, and excused herself, leaving Touya to stare at the other man.

So it was Takeshi.  Then again, it made sense.  Though it normally prided itself on its emphasis on professional Go and professional titles, the speculation over the upcoming NetGo game was such that even Go Weekly must have been forced to acknowledge and even cover the story.  As though to acknowledge the concession, the publication had sent a freelancer like Takeshi instead of one of its regular reporters. 

"Am I interrupting anything?  Can I talk to you for a moment?" Takeshi asked.

Touya said nothing.  Retreat in order to draw the enemy's response, he thought, then shook himself inwardly.  Takeshi was not an opponent.  "Please, come in," he said.

***

"You wouldn't believe what happened!" Shindou grumbled when he saw Touya.

"What happened?" Touya asked, removing his shoes and entering the house after Shindou.  They were planning to spend afternoon studying more Go, and going over Shuusaku's Go, in preparation for their NetGo game that night.  Or to put it more accurately, Sai and Touya's game.

"When I was leaving the Go salon today, someone stole my fan!" Shindou said, opening the door to his study and sitting down at the Go board.

"Your fan?  But..." Touya's eyes went to the fan placed in front of Shindou's seat.

Shindou followed his gaze.  "I have another one."

"Another one?"  He frowned, thinking.  Shindou's fan was one of his trademarks: the way he held it, the way he sometimes used it to point at the Go board, and the way he never unfurled it.  It seemed incredible that he could replace it so quickly...

It was as though Shindou could follow the direction of his thoughts, for he gave a dark chuckle.  "Did you think I would be devastated if it went missing?" he asked.

Touya sat down, watching as Shindou took up the fan, turning it gently between his fingers.  "I haven't thought about that," he confessed.  "It seems like so much a part of you that I've never really questioned it."

A corner of Shindou's mouth quirked up in a half-grin, before his expression turned sober.  "When you're fifteen, you hold on to... certain objects," he said slowly.  "I've always felt that Sai is in my Go.  But after so many years... I've lost the urge to think of Sai... as a fan, I guess."

"What do you mean?"  That was certainly not the strangest thing he had heard Shindou say, but it came close.

"I mean..." Shindou frowned as he tried to find the words.  "I mean, Sai is with me on my quest for the hand of God, whether I have a fan or not.  I'll never lose him, anyway."

Touya considered, feeling a slight pang of envy.  Shindou was more mature than him, it seemed.  That seemed to be against the order of the universe.  "That makes sense, I think," he managed to say.

"I'm still pissed off that someone stole it.  But I'll survive.  Besides, it's not the same fan I had when I was fifteen."

"Excuse me?"

"When Kenichi was teething, he chewed it in half."

"What?"

"I was so mad.  I yelled at him for that, and Asako yelled at me for yelling at her son," Shindou said, shaking his head at the memory.  "I got a replacement, and two years later Kenji tore that into pieces, and managed to cut himself on the splinters.  Asako gave me hell."  A reminiscent smile drifted to his lips, before it was replaced by the familiar worry.  "What wouldn't I give to have them back," he muttered.

Touya looked down, not knowing what to say.  "We'll find them, Shindou," he said finally.

Shindou glanced at him for a second, before he turned to the fan in his hand again, lost in memory.

***

Shindou had assured him that he had an alibi prepared, though he did not elaborate. 

Touya signed on using his real name.  Immediately, he was inundated by messages alternately advising or pleading him from proceeding.  Ignoring them, he looked for, and found Sai's presence.  As agreed, they set up the conditions: three hours, the komi following Japanese standards of eight and a half moku.  Nigiri: Touya to go first.

He fancied that he could see Shindou sitting in front of the screen, like him, his eyes narrowed with concentration.

Let's go.

----------(18)------------

It felt strange to be playing NetGo as himself, after two weeks of impersonating Sai.  His own skin seemed too tight for him, by contrast.  Sai's Go, imperfectly learnt, was too strong nonetheless, and Touya felt as though it was about to burst out of him. 

At this stage, only a dozen hands each, Sai--or rather, Shindou--had yet to show his true power.  That was usually Sai's style: never to attack immediately, but to strengthen his own shape so that it surrounded the targeted territory.  Then, slowly, Sai would entice, confuse and trick his opponent into making a mistake, and from there Sai would pounce and force through a devastating takeover.  Playing in his own room as Sai in the weeks past, Touya had sometimes felt overwhelmed by the speed with which Sai's Go could move, as though it could leap from the computer and destroy his own small room through sheer power.

But not yet.  Their territories were staked out now, and they proceeded smoothly into the mid-game stage, when both players would concentrate on consolidation and attacks to protect or gain territory.  As Black, Touya had gained a slight advantage but it was easy to see that White was no pushover either.  It had mapped out the lower left first, and though the territory there was small, there was potential for extension to the rest of the Go board.

Touya considered his choices carefully, already considering the possible points of contention, and searching for the best places to ply his attacks.  There.  And there.  His black stones were already on the crucial points, he could see.  Those territories would be vulnerable, and he planned to surround them first before White could.  That was his way.

If he were playing only Shindou, the thought crossed Touya's mind, he would be expecting a pointed, perhaps crude reprisal, most likely a hand that looked clumsy but would succeed in pushing back a crucial boundary at a later, pivotal moment.  However, the counterattacks that came from White were polished and well thought-out, with the weight of experience behind each hand.  Touya understood.  Shindou was just as careful to play only Sai's Go.

In every game with Shindou, Touya had played with the aim of thwarting Shindou, of anticipating Shindou's strategies and countering them.  Now it was no longer Shindou's Go he was facing. 

Some fifty hands later, he had to admit that it was frustrating him.  He was used to playing with Shindou.  He had longed to play with Sai, as his father had, for years.  But to know that it was Shindou, playing as Sai--it was... Touya's left hand cramped from being clenched so tightly, and he held it close to his chest, messaging it with his other hand.  It was unsatisfying.  Touya would have been glad to play either Sai or Shindou, not this awkward, confusing amalgamation.

The game had to continue, however.  Touya leaned forward, concentrating on the game, pushing his feelings away for the time being.  He could see an opening for Black at the right...

The lights in his room went out.

There was only the eerie glare of the lighted screen in the pitch-dark room.  Touya gave a start, before standing up quickly and finding the wall switch.  He flicked it, but the lights refused to come on.

He frowned.  The house's electrical fixings had not been upgraded for more than thirty years--since Touya was a child, in fact--but they had always worked without a hitch before. 

Thank goodness the computer had a separate power source, and nothing about the game seemed to be disrupted, at least.  Touya pondered the possibility of a blackout, or perhaps an earthquake-related disruption, and wondered if he should continue the game.  In any other circumstance, he would have continued playing without further thought, but the silence made him feel uneasy.  He turned to his desk and fumbled for the emergency flashlight stored there.  His hand closed around it at the same time he realized that the hand-bound copy of kifu, given to him by Shindou, was missing from his desk.

There was a crash from the back of the house.

"What was that?" he called out.  His mother had left on another week-long visit to her sister, something she did more and more often now that his father was gone; Touya did not think that she had come back so quickly.

Silence only.

Gently, softly, Touya could hear the slightest creaks of the tatami floor outside as someone moved on it.  Not a normal walk--the house was old enough that certain parts of the floor creaked loudly if one walked normally--but someone creeping, trying to make as little noise as possible.  Someone was coming to his room.

Touya retreated towards the other end of the room, fumbling in his pockets for his phone, which he usully switched off before playing a game.  The screen showing the Go game gave off barely enough light to see by.

His door slid open.

Touya stood motionless, trying to make himself invisible.

Someone entered his room.  Tall, with short black hair, with the build of a man, his face hidden despite the flashlight in one hand.  He saw the screen, and gave a muffled curse.  He reached out towards the switch.

Touya clenched his teeth, willing the man to stop.  That was his game!

"Wait!"

It was not him.  Touya waited in astonishment as loud footsteps, obviously at a run, approached the room.  "I forgot to tell you," said the newcomer, as soon as he came in, "that if the game is still on..." he faltered as the beam of light from his flashlight fell on Touya.  "T-Touya-sensei."

---------(19)---------

Touya stared at the speaker, trying to de-jumble the thoughts that had sprung up at the sight.  The Go game, his worries about Kenichi and Kenji, his frustration with Shindou as Sai--all of that had derailed in an instant.  "You... What are you doing here?" he heard himself ask.

The panicked eyes stared at him.  "I..."

His companion straightened, and shook his head sharply, as though to stop him from talking.

Touya flinched as he finally caught sight of the other's face.  "You," he said.  "It was you."

"Don't-" the man said, putting out a hand as though to prevent the two of them from getting closer.  At the same time, he reached out with his other hand, almost casually, and flipped the switch that powered off the computer. 

There were gasps of protest--Touya realized he was not the only one who had the same protest as the Go game flickered from view.  Even the dim light of the monitor disappeared, and by the light of the flashlights, Touya felt as though he was in a particularly disconcerting dream and facing a pair of alien creatures.

"We've got to get out of here," one of them said, his voice so harsh and urgent that Touya could not pinpoint the speaker.

"You can't leave."

It took Touya a moment to realize that the words came from the doorway.  Someone else was there: someone who seemed to be comfortable in the half-darkness.

"Who... who are you?!"  Light beams from the flashlights danced crazily in the room as the two men at the computer turned to the doorway.

"I'll get to that," the man said in reply, and spoke again, this time as though to someone else.  "Have you fixed the lights, yet?"

There was the softest buzz of a reply, probably from a miniature microphone, and seconds later, the lights came on.

Morita, standing at the doorway, seemed to be surveying them: Touya, holding a unused flashlight in front of him like a weapon, and the two standing in front of the computer, inching away slowly.

"Thank you."  As always, when he was at a loss, Touya took refuge in courtesy.

"You're welcome," the detective said.  "That was my assistant, by the way, at the power mains," he said to Touya, with a sideways jerk of his head, presumably at the person who had restored the electricity.  "I'm afraid we broke some of your stuff coming in--I'll pay you back for them."

"It's all right," Touya said.  He turned back to the pair, resolutely ignoring one while staring at the other.  "You haven't answered my question, Kuroda-san.  What are you doing here?"

Kuroda paled so much that he looked grey, but he seemed incapable of answering.  Instead, he only cowered behind his companion, as though to use him as a human shield.

"Kuroda Itsuki," Morita said, eyeing him thoughtfully.  "You're Shindou's student.  And you."  He addressed Kuroda's companion.  "I can't say I'm surprised."

Takeshi glared at him, hostility from every pore.  "Who are you?" he finally asked.

"I'm a friend of Touya-san's.  He was worried about someone sabotaging the game, so he asked me to keep an eye outside his home," Morita lied. 

Shindou, of course, Touya belatedly realized.  Of course Shindou would have wanted Morita to keep track of things.

"Liar," Takeshi said.  "I know Akira's friends, and you aren't one of them."  He glanced at Touya, but Touya refused to meet his eyes.

Morita remained unruffled.  "It doesn't really matter whether you believe me or not.  Like Touya-san, I'm simply curious about your purpose here."

Takeshi replied, with a glance at Touya, "We didn't mean any harm.  We just wanted to stop him from playing with Sai."

"Why?" Morita asked.

"Why?" Takeshi repeated.  "Do you even need to ask that?  Akira playing with Sai.  He'll lose, and Sai will disappear."

Even in the midst of his shock, Touya couldn't help reacting with indignation to the assumption that he would lose to Sai.

"So?  Sai is only a NetGo player," Morita said innocently.

Takeshi frowned.  "Sai is a legend.  But I don't believe that in this day and age, he can remain hidden much longer.  All I need to find him is time, and I can't do that if Touya makes him disappear."

Kuroda, avoiding Touya's eyes, added shakily, "B-besides, Touya-sensei has been getting death threats because of this game.  What if someone really hurts him?"

"So you decided to come and stop the game?" Touya asked.  "Because you didn't want me to play with Sai?"  He had no idea which one of them he was addressing, but he was aware of an anger inside him that grew stronger and stronger as the on-goings began to make sense. 

He finally met Takeshi's eyes, but Takeshi looked away a second later.  "It's important that Sai doesn't disappear," he mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Sai," Touya spoke softly, but Takeshi's head rose at the name.  "It's all because of Sai, isn't it?" he said, in a voice so faint that it was almost inaudible.

Takeshi said nothing. 

Kuroda opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and tried to look as though he were invisible.

Morita said nothing, but stood watching all of them.

Touya drew breath slowly, as though it took effort to detect air in the tension-filled room.  Suddenly he was furious.  This was not a mere game he set up for fun.  This was an opportunity to lure the person who had such an extraordinary interest in Sai.  This was a chance to find whoever had taken Kenichi and Kenji.  But it was all ruined now.

It had been difficult enough for Shindou to create an alibi by having Touya pretend to be Sai, but Touya was falling under suspicion too, simply because of his long association with Shindou.  There were all the times he was unavailable as he played as Sai--those absences would be remembered.  If rumours connected him to Sai, they might never get another opportunity--and it had been two months already.

"You idiots!" he screamed.

-------------(20)----------------

All three in the room looked shocked at Touya's outburst.

Touya felt as though he was in a race, and time was running out.  Outraged and aghast, his voice rose in volume.  "Did you even think about what you were doing?" he demanded, heartbroken for Shindou.  "You could have ruined-" he stopped.

"What?" Takeshi asked.

Everything.  "Nothing," Touya said, horrified at what he had nearly revealed.

Takeshi was frowning.  "But you said-"

"Shut up, Ueyama-san," Kuroda snapped, before his lips opened in surprise, as though he had not expected to say that.

"But-"

This time, it was Morita's turn to silence Takeshi, albeit with a look.  "Touya-san," he said.  "What are you going to do now?"

Touya took a step back, feeling numb, trying not to imagine Shindou's face when he found out.  "I don't know..." he muttered, then decided, coldly.  "I want to call the police," he said.

"What!"

"They broke into my house," Touya said, ignoring Takeshi's protest.  "I think this is a matter for the police." 

Morita nodded slowly.  "Yes, it is," he said.  But he did nothing, as though waiting for Touya to change his mind.

"Touya-sensei," Kuroda said softly, looking at his feet.  He did not dare to make it a protest, but his shoulders were slumped as though he was expecting to be punched at any moment.

Looking at him, Touya felt a moment of sympathy, and thought about retracting his words.  Maybe Kuroda had simply been alarmed by the death threats.  Maybe he had been encouraged by Takeshi to join him.  After all, Touya was well aware how persuasive Takeshi could be.  And Kuroda was Shindou's pupil, his favoured student--perhaps it was wrong to destroy their relationship.  But then what should he tell Shindou...

"Oh, no." 

The brittle, forced tones of Takeshi's voice interrupted Touya's thoughts, and he looked up to see Takeshi edging towards the door.  There was a bright, ingratiating smile on his face.

"Surely there's no need for that," Takeshi said.  "The police?  You're kidding, Akira.  I know it was wrong of us, but Akira, you're upset.  You need to calm down, Akira.  There's no need for this. It's just a game."

Touya said, "Stop calling me Akira."

The smile on Takeshi's face disappeared, as though it had been switched off.  "You're being irrational," he said. "I'm going to leave now."  He turned smartly towards the doorway and walked towards it.  Then fell down.

Touya blinked as both Kuroda and Morita extricated themselves from the groaning man on the floor, and stood up, albeit with a few staggering steps.  Kuroda, in particular, was gingerly rubbing the shoulder that he had shoved against Takeshi's chest.

"What possessed you to tackle him like that, kid?" Morita asked, raising his voice in annoyance.  "I was about to trip him, and you had to crash onto my foot!"  He wriggled the appendage a few times.  "I guess it isn't broken.  Ueyama-san, are you all right?"

Takeshi was trying to get up, and making another attempt for the door.

Touya kept watching the floor, unable to take his eyes off it.  "Stop him," he said.

"Yeah, I know, but-" Morita finally saw the items that had fallen out of Takeshi's pocket.

A rolled-up book of kifu, and a paper fan.

***

Shindou was on his way.

The police had been skeptical at first, but Morita had called in some favours, and they were going with full back-up.

Takeshi had given only the vaguest of directions, and even sparser information, trying to minimize his role, saying that he was only in charge of investigating Sai, and that he couldn't be sure, and he was sure he couldn't possibly be connected with anyone crazy enough to kidnap children, of all things.

The sad thing was, Touya thought, it might even be the truth.  Takeshi was brilliant at his job but his ambitions were a little too single-minded.  It was a trait that Touya thought he could identify with, once, and they had fitted well together, until they didn't.  They had simply drifted apart at the increasing mismatch, until Touya was too busy helping with Shindou's move back to Japan to notice.

Shindou was on his way.

He had been at Isumi's place when Morita called him--Touya didn't know the details, but he was sure it would make a fascinating story, one day--for he had somehow managed to persuade the Honinbou title-holder to be his alibi.  Noguchi had met him there, and they were coming together.

The police had wanted to discourage their presence, Touya could tell, whether out of a fear of interference or a distaste for civilians he couldn't tell, but Morita was there to back him up.

"The fan was Shindou's," Morita said, as they drove through dark neighbourhoods, following a nondescript police car.

"Yes."

"But why did Ueyama confess just because you saw that he had the fan as well?"

"It was one thing to steal the kifu--he could put that down to curiosity, even if Shindou had used Sai's name in his comments to the games.  But the fan... I remembered something Noguchi had commented once.  She said that Shindou acted as though Sai had given him the fan.  Then someone stole Shindou's fan."

"You mean-"

"I can't explain why I thought it was him.  It was just a vague suspicion: I had always thought he was the one who spied on Shindou telling my father about Sai, at the hospital, but I thought at that time, his reporting instincts got the better of him.  But when I saw the fan... maybe he saw something in my expression..."

Morita nodded, accepting that for now.  He indicated the turn-off ahead with a nod of his head.  "If I remember right, the place should be along that," he said.  "I hope we find them."

Touya swallowed, his heart beating.

Shindou was on his way.

***

Touya entered the now unlocked room, ignoring the police officers in it, his eyes searching.  He squinted in the dimness, barely noticing the messy futons on the floor, and the remains of lunchboxes on a low table.

"Haku-niisan!" A small body ran into him, then another, slightly larger one plastered himself to him, muttering, "Haku-nii... Touya-san."

Kneeling down, Touya found that his arms were wrapped tightly around two small bodies, even as he looked up at Morita's relieved, amused face.

-----------(21)-------------

"I'm leaving Japan," Shindou said.

"What?"  The pair of chopsticks Touya was holding clattered noisily to the table, and rolled down to the floor.

Kenji jumped at the sound, and huddled closer to Shindou, before he realized what he was doing, and withdrew, looking embarrassed.  He gave Touya a nervous smile, and began to eat from his bowl rapidly.  Next to him, Kenichi reached out and patted him once on the shoulder, before he resumed glaring at Shindou.  Noguchi had excused herself from the table already, pleading a poor appetite.

"Sorry, Kenji," Touya said, and looked at Shindou.  "What did you mean by that, Shindou?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice steady.

After a split second of surprise, Shindou's face twisted in a chagrined grimace.  "Sorry, I should have realized how that would sound," he said, shaking his head.  "Don't eat so quickly, Kenji, you'll choke.  Kenichi, do you want more soup?"

Kenichi scowled.  "No," he said loudly.  His younger brother darted a look at Shindou at the reply, and in the next moment, his bowl of soup had tipped over, splashing out over the surface of the table and dripping down the sides.

"Be careful, that's hot!" Shindou exclaimed, as he caught hold of Kenji and moved him out of the way.

Touya, too, had already made Kenichi stand up and back away from the table before the soup could spill on him.

"I'll get a cloth," Shindou said.  He hoisted Kenji into his arms and hurried in the direction of the kitchen.

His arms still around Kenichi, Touya noticed the way the boy stiffened when Shindou disappeared, and the way his eyes watched the doorway to the kitchen.  When Shindou came back brandishing a tea towel, Kenichi's shoulders relaxed, and his scowl returned.

"I'll do it," Touya said, taking the towel from him and starting to mop up the mess.  Shindou helped to shift the bowls to one side while he cleared up the mess.  Finally, they sat down again.

"What do you mean, you're leaving Japan?" Touya asked, when Kenji was coaxed into drinking a refilled bowl of soup.  Kenichi was playing with his food, something that Shindou and Touya were both ignoring.

"Not permanently," Shindou said quickly.  "Just for three or four months.  To Amsterdam, where Asako has her business.  Her partner has been holding the fort all this while, you know.  I thought it'd be good to get away from Japan for a while... let all the publicity die down."

Something inside Touya's chest relaxed.  "I see.  When are you leaving?"

"As soon as the police agree to let us leave," Shindou said.  His eyes slanted to his sons, particularly Kenichi, who was undoubtedly listening avidly.

"Ah."  Touya nodded, the boys' presence preventing him from saying more.  Takeshi's contact, he later learnt, was the owner of the house where they had been found.  Takeshi himself only knew his contact as someone who would pay handsomely for that kind of news--he truly had no notion that he would be connected to a kidnapping, of all things.  There had been many Sai-obsessed fans before, but never one that would resort to crime, and one as ugly as this.  Touya hoped it would be the last.

"So I'll need to withdraw from the title games, for this year," Shindou said.  "I've already contacted the Go Institute."

"Including the Meijin title?" Touya asked.  "You're already in the League, aren't you?"

"Ahh..." Shindou looked guilty.  "I'm in two minds about that, actually.  You see, I know I have a good chance of getting the title next year..."

"Fat chance," Touya said immediately.  "I'm going to be your opponent for the final challenger next year, and you know what that means?"

"Means you lose?" Shindou said.  "Nya nya nya."  He stuck out his tongue and made a face.  Kenji giggled at the sight, and Shindou looked away from Touya to beam down at him.  "Yeah, I'm the next Meijin!" he chanted, ruffling his younger son's hair and tickling him.  "Me! Me! Me!"

Touya contented himself with his emotional maturity, and said nothing.  He met Kenichi's eyes, and for a second they shared a reluctant smile at Shindou's antics.

After a while, Shindou stopped tickling his son, who was still prone to giggles.  "Well, Touya?"

"Well, what?"

"Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

"My mouth-" Touya raised his eyebrows, and regretfully decided that it would be too late for him to stay this time.  "Name your time and place," he said instead.

"Done."  Shindou leant forward, his eyes sparkling.  "Tomorrow, noon, at my Go salon."

***

Well. This could easily be the most innocuous game in the history of Go. The set-up had been bland and innocent, and the shapes growing along the sides were simple to see, easy to decipher. Touya glanced at his opponent for just an instant, and turned his attention to the Go board again, suspicious. He was used to playing bold, strong hands, but Shindou’s style had always been somewhat unusual. Creative. Yet, right now, all that Touya could see was that Shindou’s hands were harmless. They lacked teeth. Something that said, 'Aren’t I cute?' with Kenji’s boyish grin. Innocence radiated from the Go board like light from a burning city.

It was a nice irony that Shindou was playing black, really.

Touya could hear the murmuring from the spectators, which included a number of pros and insei, among them his own students. How had they known he was playing here? He could feel his eyes narrow with concentration as he studied Shindou’s shape again. There was danger here, and damn if Touya was going to be ambushed by Shindou. He fingered the edge of his stone. Make every hand count, he remembered his father saying. If you’re going to waste a hand, you might as well not play it.

There. It would connect his territory at the top, and put him in position to defend the lower half as well. If Shindou was going to attack, Touya was going to give himself a spectator’s view of the on-goings. He put down his stone.

He watched as Shindou put down his fan, and felt himself become hyper-focused.

Seconds later, Shindou placed a black stone on the Go board. His eyes were hard with concentration. It looked like any ordinary hand, which meant that it was a hand that Hikaru had planned long beforehand.

Touya braced himself as he took in the ramifications of Shindou’s hand.

"Holy shit," he thought he heard Sakurai mutter.

The most innocent game in the world had just turned into a deathtrap. Every single scrap of disputed space was suddenly quicksand. Large groups of Touya’s stones stood to be taken in the next few hands, and entire swaths of territory were in danger of being surrounded by black. One stone had overturned the entire game.

Ah, the blade is reversed.  Inwardly, he grinned. He had been so frustrated by the Go they were playing in the last few weeks--all Sai's Go. Now this was all Shindou's Go, brashly, expertly and uniquely his.

The Go board was full of sharp edges now.  He was once again reminded that Go was a game of war. Burning cities, indeed. He could feel his lips part in a feral grin, and with a komoku, he secured the corner on Shindou’s lower right. He had been preparing that corner since the game began, and this was exactly the right time for it.

Shindou’s jaw fell the fraction of an inch.

Touya smirked, very slightly, but let Shindou see his grin. He was not the only sneaky one here. Shindou might have the talent of playing amazing hands, but Touya was not going to be caught flat-footed if he could help it, either. He’d played more than enough games with Shindou for that.

Without a word, Shindou placed another stone, enforcing the stand he had put in place with his earlier hand.

Touya snatched up a stone and placed it at a spot that he knew would frustrate Shindou’s momentum.

Shindou replied, over-powering Touya’s group at the upper right.

Touya continued to frustrate Shindou, keeping an eye on the territory he was conceding, and the territory he managed to wrestle from Shindou. Both of them slapped their stones on the Go board as quickly as they could, simultaneously losing and accumulating territory with each stone they played. With a corner of his mind that was not busy thinking and calculating, Touya started thinking of it as a dance that spun with dizzy power within the restrictions of the Go board.

He forgot the worry and frustrations of the previous weeks, not hearing the mutterings from the spectators, ignoring even Kenichi and Kenji, who were sitting there watching the game as well.  Despite everything, Shindou had assured him, his two sons still loved Go--something that precious had not been destroyed, after all.  He settled into the rhythm of the game, taking and giving, playing and extending this dance.

When it ended, Touya was not surprised to find himself breathing hard. Across the Go board, Shindou was no better; his hair was dark with perspiration. Touya blinked the sweat out of his eyes in turn, and let the breath escape from his lips in a light pant.

"Breathe, Itsuki," he thought he heard Sakurai say to Kuroda. Shindou had attached no blame to Kuroda, though the young man had been overcome with shock at learning of Takeshi's connection to the kidnapper. He was going to Amsterdam with them, Shindou had confided, to give him a break as well, and to toughen him up with exposure to the European Go community.

Touya looked across the Go board; Shindou’s gaze held his for a moment, and his eyes were still hard, full of competition, before he looked away, blowing his hair out of his eyes in a noisy breath.  Then he bowed.  "I have lost."

With sudden pain, Touya noticed that beneath the bright blond locks, more of his opponent's hair had already turned white.

***

Touya found Shindou sitting in the front room, contemplating the ancient Go board that had been recovered from the kidnapper's house as well.  Kenji was asleep, his face pillowed on Shindou's lap.

"Where's Kenichi?"

"He's sleeping as well, in his room," Shindou said.  "Asako is with him."

"Ah.  Has he forgiven you yet?"

Shindou smiled sadly.  "I can't ever make up for the fact that it took me so long to find him," he said.  "On the other hand, he thinks that I have the good taste to have you, his hero, for a friend and rival, so perhaps in time he'll stop trying to stare a hole into my back."

"He's only doing that because he's afraid to let you out of his sight," Touya said, "like Kenji."

"I know," Shindou said.  One of his hands fell lightly on Kenji's head, smoothing errant strands of hair from the sleeping face.  "Good game today," he said.

"Yes."  Touya thought about the game.  Only Shindou could have played that game with him--Shindou and no one else.  "You're back, aren't you?" he said absently.

"Huh?"

"Not Sai anymore."

He looked up when there was only silence, to see Shindou looking at him.  "What is it?" he asked, wondering at the naked expression on his rival's face.

"I haven't been Sai for a very long time, not until this," Shindou said.  "And though there are still times when I miss him with all my heart, the Go I play is mine, not his."

 Touya nodded.  "Good.  Then I'll wait for the time when you come back, and for you to show your Go to me again."

Shindou's chin rose with the same stubbornness Touya had come across twenty years ago.  "Hey, same to you too," he said, his solemnity evaporating and his grin reappearing.  "Don't worry, I'm not about to fade away. There's still a long way to go. I still haven’t played my best game," Shindou said. 

Touya could feel his own head dip in comprehension at Shindou's words. "I know," he said, thinking of the game they had played that afternoon. "I haven't played my best game yet, either," he said, though he suspected that his best game, in the future, would be one with Shindou.  "The game I want to play most of all…"

"The perfect game…" Shindou murmured.  Almost unconsciously, he held his son a little tighter.

"Hasn't appeared yet." They both finished at the same time.

------------the end---------------

Luce Red (redacanthus@yahoo.com)