Hikaru No Go Fic: Desynchronization (WIP) Part XIV (1 of 2)
Title: desynchronization. Part XIV of XVI
Main Characters: Ogata, Sai, Touya Kouyou
Disclaimer: These lovely characters are the creation of Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata. Not mine, I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Spoilers: For the entire series.
Warnings: Ages 16 and up. Cursing and sensuality. It's possible the rating will go up eventually.
Word Count: 10,455
Notes: Much thanks to my betas, aiwritingfic and harumi, whose advice was invaluable as usual.
Long time no update, huh? ^_^ Well, it's a really long chapter (I had to split it, thanks LJ). Happy early 4th of July to my fellow Americans, or to anyone else who happens to enjoy massive explosions.
Master Fic List. Previous chapters can be found here, just look for the story's banner.
Part 1 of 2
Wednesday couldn't have come quickly enough.
Ogata pulled the Mazda into the Touyas' driveway, navigating the narrow space with the ease of experience. He'd gone through all his usual pre-match routines: replaying his opponent's latest games (to look for their weaknesses), replaying his own latest games (to look for his own weaknesses), and playing a little NetGo (to look for the weaknesses of complete strangers before crushing them efficiently). None of these familiar routines, however, had relaxed his mind properly; Ogata still felt as tense as he'd been ever since Sensei had suggested the match.
He scowled at himself as he strode towards the door; he was hardly a jittery, over-eager insei any longer. He was a seasoned title-holder... a seasoned title-holder who probably needed to cut back on the coffee.
Akiko greeted him in the entranceway with a warm smile. “Ogata-san, it's been too long,” she said, taking his suit jacket from him.
“It certainly has,” Ogata replied, returning her smile easily despite his nerves. Akiko had always been kind to him, even when he'd been an awkward, standoffish teenager. “I'd scold Sensei for dragging you all over Asia and depriving us of your company, but Akira-kun has informed me that you've been enjoying yourself thoroughly.”
“Let's pretend I haven't. I should like to see the look on Kouyou-san's face when you scold him. He isn't scolded nearly enough, you know,” Akiko said as she led Ogata to the study, her guileless expression not slipping one iota. Ogata stifled an inappropriate snort of laughter before Akiko slid the study door open.
Sensei was seated in front of his goban, clad in his favorite haori and hakama. Only a handful of stones had been laid on the surface. Ogata took in the pattern quickly, but he did not recognize it.
“Ogata-kun.” Touya-sensei glanced up and smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “It's good to see you.”
Ogata gave a small bow. “I'm also happy to see you,” he said, and then he knelt on the tatami so he wouldn't be towering over his teacher.
“It's hot outside. Ogata-san must be thirsty. I'll bring some more tea,” Akiko said.
“Thank you,” Touya-sensei said, smiling again as his wife disappeared into the hallway. Ogata noticed how white his teeth seemed against his skin.
Had Sensei been spending more time outside? He was more relaxed than Ogata remembered; there was something looser about the set of his shoulders, and Touya-sensei had definitely never smiled this frequently before. Perhaps Akiko had finally managed to infect her husband with her perpetual good cheer. Or perhaps Sensei was giddy at the prospect of meeting his opponent. Fujiwara certainly was, ever since Ogata had convinced Fujiwara that Touya-sensei was not, in fact, in the habit of devouring his young competition alive.
Touya-sensei began to remove the white stones from the goban. “How is your mother finding her new position?”
“Very good,” Ogata said, leaning over to pick the black stones off. He was only mildly surprised that Touya-sensei knew about his mother's promotion. Although Sensei spoke little, he was an excellent listener, and had sharp recall. “Management suits her abilities.”
Touya-sensei nodded as if satisfied. “And your next Kisei League game?”
“Next week. Serizawa 9-Dan is a strong opponent.”
Sensei nodded again as they scooped the last of the stones into the goke, and Ogata was certain the next question would be about Fujiwara. Sensei had already asked after Ogata's mother and the games, so he had nothing else to inquire about.
“Shall we nigiri then?”
“Um, yes,” Ogata said, hiding his surprise as he took his place on the opposite side of the goban. So then, Sensei was simply saving the Fujiwara questions for later.
Ogata won black, and immediately played at 3-4. He planned to gradually establish a framework in the upper left quadrant, although he knew that he'd have to approach the framework obliquely. Touya Kouyou was very, very good at perceiving his opponent's intentions, and even pretending to play right into those intentions, seemingly as gullible as a lamb. Right up until the last moment when he sprang his own trap.
Ogata watched intently as Touya-sensei's white stones began to speckle the board. Most of the moves were familiar to Ogata, almost as familiar as the faces of the most senior students in Touya-sensei's class. These were strong moves, hands that Touya-sensei knew how to use to maximum efficiency because he'd refined them over the years during countless games with his students and opponents. These were not the moves that worried Ogata. He knew what to expect from such moves - what the area of the influence could be, the relative strength of each, and how to counter them. Some of the techniques were ones that Ogata himself used on a regular basis with an equally cutting efficiency.
But here, at the 10 - 4 coordinates, and there, at the 9 - 3 coordinates... Ogata pushed his glasses further up his nose and leaned in, his attention captured by the unusual arrangement. It wasn't a threat yet, but Ogata couldn't discern the purpose of the arrangement, not at this early stage. What was Sensei planning?
A quick glance at his opponent confirmed nothing: Sensei's expression remained as impenetrable as a stone wall, his hands tucked into his haori sleeves as he gazed at the goban, waiting for his turn. Ogata frowned. His instinct was warning him of Very Bad Things in store for Black, but he also knew that making a response before he understood the purpose would possibly play into Sensei's plans and make matters worse.
After another moment's mulling, Ogata chose to focus his play on securing territory in upper left and lower right quadrants, while keeping one wary eye on the developments at the upper right. Even in the worst-case scenario of White gaining control of that area due to the mysterious arrangements, he could strengthen his holdings elsewhere and cut off White's ability to expand.
The exchanges flowed at their usual pace as the game progressed into the mid-stages. Touya-sensei responded with his characteristic rapid speed to Black's moves, sometimes with familiar hands, sometimes with curious moves that could have originated anywhere, now that Sensei no longer confined himself to Japan: perhaps in some smoky go salon in Korea, or at a conference in Taiwan, or even on an online go server. Ogata narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar moves, resisting the urge to obsess over the moves. Analysis was one of his greatest strengths, but the flip-side of that was his weakness: hesitation. Of course, hesitation wasn't an issue when Ogata was playing weaker opponents; even if he made mistakes by forging boldly ahead, he still had an acceptable margin of error. It was the masters who gave Ogata reason to pause -- especially Sensei. Each year, as Ogata's own ability increased, he became more and more acutely aware of the depth of Touya Kouyou's talent. It was both inspiring and intimidating to realize how much he still had to learn from his teacher, even though he'd managed to attain titles of his own.
Again, Ogata glanced across the goban, and this time Touya-sensei met his gaze. The other man's expression seemed completely emotionless, but Ogata recognized the glimmer in his dark eyes - that hint of challenge and confidence and even a little... joy. Yes, there was no doubt of it; Sensei was enjoying himself.
Ogata felt a muscle in his hand twitch in irritation. So, did Sensei consider this game a mere amusing prelude to his real game? Perhaps it was time to ratchet the intensity up a few notches. Ogata set his jaw, evaluating Sensei's strong formations that were stretching from the upper right to the fringes of the lower left. Attacking them would be risky. The path to a successful invasion was complicated and would leave him exposed if he made a mistake; if he failed, White could split his stones down the middle.
But then, hadn't he spent the entire summer facing Fujiwara? He'd had to battle against brilliant play by taking risks he'd never entertained before, dredging the very edges of his mind to keep pace with Fujiwara's innovation.
He'd fought, and he'd lost. And he'd grown.
Decision made, Ogata spear-headed his assault against the formation. Holding back when he should have pushed forward had cost Ogata the victory against Touya Kouyou before, but that wouldn't happen this time. If Ogata lost, it would be because he'd crashed and burned spectacularly.
Touya-sensei looked at the invading black stones. His eyebrow arched, as if he were puzzled or surprised. Then the corners of his mouth quirked ever-so slightly. Rather than responding to Ogata's invasion, Touya-sensei laid another white stone at 9 - 2, and in a flash of epiphany, Ogata realized exactly what his teacher was planning.
It was an elegant plan, Ogata thought, approving of the sheer cunning behind the formation. White could easily erase Black's influence there with an additional stone or two to tip the balance, and it would be difficult for Black to cut off White at this late stage.
White was in a similar predicament in the upper left, however. Black had remained unchecked long enough for Ogata to establish a satisfactory outline, one which Touya-sensei wouldn't be able to break easily, although he'd obviously caught onto Ogata's plan since he'd belatedly placed several blocking moves.
Ogata allowed himself the indulgence of a tight smile. Whatever the outcome of the game, it certainly wasn't going to be dull.
* * *
Black and white stones sprawled across the board like tangled ropes of pearl, the outlines thick and complex. A few moves remained, but Ogata already knew the inevitable result. With komi factored in, he would lose by three and a half moku. It had been some time since Ogata had lost by such a margin, but the usual sting of failure felt dulled in the light of such an exquisite, intense game. Touya-sensei's play reminded Ogata of the tantalizing glimpses he'd seen during Game 5 of the Juudan Finals- the game in which he'd finally managed to wrest a title from his teacher.
Ogata hadn't been deluded enough to believe that he'd won the title match because he had played particularly brilliantly, or that Touya-sensei had lost because he'd played uncharacteristically poorly. No, Ogata had won because Touya-sensei's uncanny sense of balance had been off. Usually, Touya-sensei instinctively knew when to strike, and when to hold; he could sense the ebb and flow of the stones to a degree that was unsurpassed in the go world. In the aftermath of losing to s a i, however, Touya-sensei's moves had been brimming with surprising twists and ideas -- beautiful, refreshing go -- but it was still too raw, too full of unrefined kinetic energy to be wielded like a scalpel, even in a master's hands. Perhaps against a lesser player, or even simply a player who was not so familiar with his style, Touya Kouyou might have succeeded regardless. Not, however, against his oldest pupil, a pupil who was already able to go toe-to-toe with him on his best days. Ogata knew Touya-sensei's play intimately enough to realize precisely where to push when he'd spotted the tiny openings and rough edges, and that knowledge had been enough to tip the game in his favor.
There had been no such rough edges today, Ogata thought as he reviewed the entire game mentally, his eyes skimming the board. In the two years since playing s a i, Touya-sensei had refined and advanced his game to a level that Ogata had scarcely imagined possible. Ogata had followed Sensei's matches in the Beijing leagues, of course, but playing with Sensei himself, in person -- the experience wasn't comparable. In this game, there was a peculiar beauty to the shape of the stones. Even in the middle of the most violent clashes, the stones flowed together in harmony, the push of Black balanced perfectly by the pull of White, or White's offensive here echoed exactly by Black's defense there. Usually, one would expect to see some unnecessary overlap or excessive responses, even in a game between top players. It was natural: a player could hardly anticipate his opponent's thoughts to such a degree, even a familiar opponent. Or so Ogata had believed. The beautiful game before him was a testament to the contrary.
When had he become capable of such an exchange with with his teacher?
Ogata bowed low over the goban, feeling oddly humbled. “Makemashita.”
“Do you want to discuss the game?”
Ogata already knew where the critical mistakes had been made. “Not right now, thank you. I'm a little tired,” Ogata said, pulling off his glasses so he could rub at the tension at the bridge of his nose and his temples. He felt like he'd just played a title match game.
“I'm glad that you've been able to keep pace with me, Ogata-kun.”
Ogata opened his eyes to stare disbelievingly at Touya-sensei. Had he just...?
“Even though my go has changed, you were able to play very evenly against me. Your ability to adapt has grown stronger.”
Mutely, Ogata nodded. Sensei was complimenting him. Praise was rare from Sensei, although always sincere. Ogata replaced his glasses, and Touya-sensei's face sharpened back into focus. He was still studying the board, a thoughtful set to his features.
Ogata watched his teacher silently, waiting for him to finish his contemplation. Ogata had learned long ago that if he were patient, he had a far better chance of being privy to Sensei's insight.
After several minutes had passed, Touya-sensei stirred. “There is a certain type of game you can play only with an opponent who knows you very well. I had wondered if I would still be able to play this kind of game in Japan.”
Although Sensei had never directly said so, Ogata knew he'd been disappointed that none of his peers had managed to keep stride with him during his professional career. There was a certain traditionalism in the uppermost ranks of Japanese pros which - at its worst - led to complacency and stagnation. But for the past two years, Touya Kouyou had been continuously matching wits with the fiercely competitive pros in Korea, China, and Taiwan, constantly advancing his game.
“My early retirement caused many people difficulties, including my students,” Sensei stated evenly, without a hint of regret. His eyes grew distant. “It's been two years and six months.”
Two years and six months since he'd played s a i. Sensei had never explained that he was searching for s a i, but he hadn't needed to. Ogata had figured out Sensei's aim rather quickly - it was blatantly obvious, the way Sensei flitted from country to country whenever he received word of intriguing talent.
Touya-sensei looked up from the board suddenly, fixing Ogata with a sharp look. “When my Internet match with s a i was arranged, it was on the stipulation that I would not discuss it with others.”
“I see,” Ogata replied flatly. Obviously, Ogata couldn't blame his teacher for honoring a secret. Ogata supposed that this made him the guilty party, as he had had no promise barring him from speaking freely about s a i. Was this what Sensei was driving at? Ogata already knew he was in the wrong for keeping Fujiwara hidden. He didn't need a lecture.
“However, I also thought that if you had the opportunity to play him, it would inspire your go as well.” Touya-sensei's expression gentled. “And I thought that s a i would enjoy having another strong opponent, since Shindou-kun was so passionate about my playing him.”
Ogata blinked, taken completely aback by the turn of the conversation. “You... really thought that?” he asked, realizing only belatedly that he probably sounded like a middle school boy. He was lucky his mouth wasn't hanging open.
Touya-sensei gestured at Ogata's assault into White's territory. “Before, you would have not made this move against me with the outcome uncertain. Playing Fujiwara-san has made you bolder.”
A “Thank you,” was all Ogata could manage to string together, his mind swirling with the revelation that Sensei had wanted him to play s a i. Sensei had been thinking of Ogata and Fujiwara, whereas Ogata had only been thinking of his resentment about being left out of the loop about s a i.
For the second time that day, Ogata felt humbled -- this time, because of the generosity of his teacher's spirit.
Touya-sensei tucked his arms back into his haori sleeves with a grave air. “You already know that I disagree with how you handled finding Fujiwara-san, when you realized his identity. You shouldn't have kept him apart from Shindou-kun.”
Ogata willed himself not to shift his gaze away. He wasn't in the habit of shirking responsibility for his mistakes, although explaining the situation had been much easier over the phone with the blessed absence of Touya-sensei's penetrating stare.
“Excepting that, it was fortunate that you were the one to find him. You've prepared him for a normal life again, and you helped him remember his go. I'm certain that must have been a great comfort to him.”
Ogata tipped his head in acknowledgment. He supposed the go had been a comfort. That he hadn't played Fujiwara for almost two weeks - ever since their confrontation - wasn't a matter he was inclined to mention to anyone, especially Touya-sensei. Go meant so much to Fujiwara, so being excluded from that aspect of his life (even voluntarily) was... disconcerting to say the least.
Regardless, Fujiwara had asked Ogata to attend his game tomorrow, a game that held great significance for him.
“Does he really have no family?” The lines around Touya-sensei's mouth deepened into a frown.
“According to Shindou, no.” And the lack of any missing person reports filed, and the fact that Fujiwara's picture had been circulated throughout the entire Japanese police network, yet failed to generate even a single inquiry. If Fujiwara did actually have a family, they weren't trying to find him.
Sympathy flashed in Touya-sensei's dark eyes. “That is a shame. Family is important.”
Ogata thought of his mother, and the father he hated. “Yes, it is.”
Touya-sensei looked at him carefully, then returned his attention to the goban, his expression shifting to one of deep absorption.
From their long acquaintance, Ogata knew the session was over. “Thank you for your instruction,” he said, bowing before he stood up.
Touya-sensei made no answer until Ogata was mid-step through the shouji sliding door. “Ogata-kun. Thank you for looking after Fujiwara-san.”
Ogata's hand tightened around the door frame. Sensei sounded genuinely grateful, despite his knowledge that Ogata's motives had been far from altruistic. Ogata didn't know how to respond.
“You should come tomorrow. Observing the game will be of benefit to you.”
They both wanted him there. “Yes, I will,” Ogata said, his throat suddenly constricting, and he was relieved that his back was facing the room. He didn't want Sensei to see the expression on his face.
When Ogata got into his car, he shook his head in disbelief at himself. After all these years... Sensei was still able to affect him like very few people could. Ogata snorted, lighting a cigarette to relax himself for driving.
That didn't really matter, though. What mattered was the game he was going to witness tomorrow.
* * *
To Part 2.
Main Characters: Ogata, Sai, Touya Kouyou
Disclaimer: These lovely characters are the creation of Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata. Not mine, I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Spoilers: For the entire series.
Warnings: Ages 16 and up. Cursing and sensuality. It's possible the rating will go up eventually.
Word Count: 10,455
Notes: Much thanks to my betas, aiwritingfic and harumi, whose advice was invaluable as usual.
Long time no update, huh? ^_^ Well, it's a really long chapter (I had to split it, thanks LJ). Happy early 4th of July to my fellow Americans, or to anyone else who happens to enjoy massive explosions.
Master Fic List. Previous chapters can be found here, just look for the story's banner.
Part 1 of 2
Wednesday couldn't have come quickly enough.
Ogata pulled the Mazda into the Touyas' driveway, navigating the narrow space with the ease of experience. He'd gone through all his usual pre-match routines: replaying his opponent's latest games (to look for their weaknesses), replaying his own latest games (to look for his own weaknesses), and playing a little NetGo (to look for the weaknesses of complete strangers before crushing them efficiently). None of these familiar routines, however, had relaxed his mind properly; Ogata still felt as tense as he'd been ever since Sensei had suggested the match.
He scowled at himself as he strode towards the door; he was hardly a jittery, over-eager insei any longer. He was a seasoned title-holder... a seasoned title-holder who probably needed to cut back on the coffee.
Akiko greeted him in the entranceway with a warm smile. “Ogata-san, it's been too long,” she said, taking his suit jacket from him.
“It certainly has,” Ogata replied, returning her smile easily despite his nerves. Akiko had always been kind to him, even when he'd been an awkward, standoffish teenager. “I'd scold Sensei for dragging you all over Asia and depriving us of your company, but Akira-kun has informed me that you've been enjoying yourself thoroughly.”
“Let's pretend I haven't. I should like to see the look on Kouyou-san's face when you scold him. He isn't scolded nearly enough, you know,” Akiko said as she led Ogata to the study, her guileless expression not slipping one iota. Ogata stifled an inappropriate snort of laughter before Akiko slid the study door open.
Sensei was seated in front of his goban, clad in his favorite haori and hakama. Only a handful of stones had been laid on the surface. Ogata took in the pattern quickly, but he did not recognize it.
“Ogata-kun.” Touya-sensei glanced up and smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “It's good to see you.”
Ogata gave a small bow. “I'm also happy to see you,” he said, and then he knelt on the tatami so he wouldn't be towering over his teacher.
“It's hot outside. Ogata-san must be thirsty. I'll bring some more tea,” Akiko said.
“Thank you,” Touya-sensei said, smiling again as his wife disappeared into the hallway. Ogata noticed how white his teeth seemed against his skin.
Had Sensei been spending more time outside? He was more relaxed than Ogata remembered; there was something looser about the set of his shoulders, and Touya-sensei had definitely never smiled this frequently before. Perhaps Akiko had finally managed to infect her husband with her perpetual good cheer. Or perhaps Sensei was giddy at the prospect of meeting his opponent. Fujiwara certainly was, ever since Ogata had convinced Fujiwara that Touya-sensei was not, in fact, in the habit of devouring his young competition alive.
Touya-sensei began to remove the white stones from the goban. “How is your mother finding her new position?”
“Very good,” Ogata said, leaning over to pick the black stones off. He was only mildly surprised that Touya-sensei knew about his mother's promotion. Although Sensei spoke little, he was an excellent listener, and had sharp recall. “Management suits her abilities.”
Touya-sensei nodded as if satisfied. “And your next Kisei League game?”
“Next week. Serizawa 9-Dan is a strong opponent.”
Sensei nodded again as they scooped the last of the stones into the goke, and Ogata was certain the next question would be about Fujiwara. Sensei had already asked after Ogata's mother and the games, so he had nothing else to inquire about.
“Shall we nigiri then?”
“Um, yes,” Ogata said, hiding his surprise as he took his place on the opposite side of the goban. So then, Sensei was simply saving the Fujiwara questions for later.
Ogata won black, and immediately played at 3-4. He planned to gradually establish a framework in the upper left quadrant, although he knew that he'd have to approach the framework obliquely. Touya Kouyou was very, very good at perceiving his opponent's intentions, and even pretending to play right into those intentions, seemingly as gullible as a lamb. Right up until the last moment when he sprang his own trap.
Ogata watched intently as Touya-sensei's white stones began to speckle the board. Most of the moves were familiar to Ogata, almost as familiar as the faces of the most senior students in Touya-sensei's class. These were strong moves, hands that Touya-sensei knew how to use to maximum efficiency because he'd refined them over the years during countless games with his students and opponents. These were not the moves that worried Ogata. He knew what to expect from such moves - what the area of the influence could be, the relative strength of each, and how to counter them. Some of the techniques were ones that Ogata himself used on a regular basis with an equally cutting efficiency.
But here, at the 10 - 4 coordinates, and there, at the 9 - 3 coordinates... Ogata pushed his glasses further up his nose and leaned in, his attention captured by the unusual arrangement. It wasn't a threat yet, but Ogata couldn't discern the purpose of the arrangement, not at this early stage. What was Sensei planning?
A quick glance at his opponent confirmed nothing: Sensei's expression remained as impenetrable as a stone wall, his hands tucked into his haori sleeves as he gazed at the goban, waiting for his turn. Ogata frowned. His instinct was warning him of Very Bad Things in store for Black, but he also knew that making a response before he understood the purpose would possibly play into Sensei's plans and make matters worse.
After another moment's mulling, Ogata chose to focus his play on securing territory in upper left and lower right quadrants, while keeping one wary eye on the developments at the upper right. Even in the worst-case scenario of White gaining control of that area due to the mysterious arrangements, he could strengthen his holdings elsewhere and cut off White's ability to expand.
The exchanges flowed at their usual pace as the game progressed into the mid-stages. Touya-sensei responded with his characteristic rapid speed to Black's moves, sometimes with familiar hands, sometimes with curious moves that could have originated anywhere, now that Sensei no longer confined himself to Japan: perhaps in some smoky go salon in Korea, or at a conference in Taiwan, or even on an online go server. Ogata narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar moves, resisting the urge to obsess over the moves. Analysis was one of his greatest strengths, but the flip-side of that was his weakness: hesitation. Of course, hesitation wasn't an issue when Ogata was playing weaker opponents; even if he made mistakes by forging boldly ahead, he still had an acceptable margin of error. It was the masters who gave Ogata reason to pause -- especially Sensei. Each year, as Ogata's own ability increased, he became more and more acutely aware of the depth of Touya Kouyou's talent. It was both inspiring and intimidating to realize how much he still had to learn from his teacher, even though he'd managed to attain titles of his own.
Again, Ogata glanced across the goban, and this time Touya-sensei met his gaze. The other man's expression seemed completely emotionless, but Ogata recognized the glimmer in his dark eyes - that hint of challenge and confidence and even a little... joy. Yes, there was no doubt of it; Sensei was enjoying himself.
Ogata felt a muscle in his hand twitch in irritation. So, did Sensei consider this game a mere amusing prelude to his real game? Perhaps it was time to ratchet the intensity up a few notches. Ogata set his jaw, evaluating Sensei's strong formations that were stretching from the upper right to the fringes of the lower left. Attacking them would be risky. The path to a successful invasion was complicated and would leave him exposed if he made a mistake; if he failed, White could split his stones down the middle.
But then, hadn't he spent the entire summer facing Fujiwara? He'd had to battle against brilliant play by taking risks he'd never entertained before, dredging the very edges of his mind to keep pace with Fujiwara's innovation.
He'd fought, and he'd lost. And he'd grown.
Decision made, Ogata spear-headed his assault against the formation. Holding back when he should have pushed forward had cost Ogata the victory against Touya Kouyou before, but that wouldn't happen this time. If Ogata lost, it would be because he'd crashed and burned spectacularly.
Touya-sensei looked at the invading black stones. His eyebrow arched, as if he were puzzled or surprised. Then the corners of his mouth quirked ever-so slightly. Rather than responding to Ogata's invasion, Touya-sensei laid another white stone at 9 - 2, and in a flash of epiphany, Ogata realized exactly what his teacher was planning.
It was an elegant plan, Ogata thought, approving of the sheer cunning behind the formation. White could easily erase Black's influence there with an additional stone or two to tip the balance, and it would be difficult for Black to cut off White at this late stage.
White was in a similar predicament in the upper left, however. Black had remained unchecked long enough for Ogata to establish a satisfactory outline, one which Touya-sensei wouldn't be able to break easily, although he'd obviously caught onto Ogata's plan since he'd belatedly placed several blocking moves.
Ogata allowed himself the indulgence of a tight smile. Whatever the outcome of the game, it certainly wasn't going to be dull.
* * *
Black and white stones sprawled across the board like tangled ropes of pearl, the outlines thick and complex. A few moves remained, but Ogata already knew the inevitable result. With komi factored in, he would lose by three and a half moku. It had been some time since Ogata had lost by such a margin, but the usual sting of failure felt dulled in the light of such an exquisite, intense game. Touya-sensei's play reminded Ogata of the tantalizing glimpses he'd seen during Game 5 of the Juudan Finals- the game in which he'd finally managed to wrest a title from his teacher.
Ogata hadn't been deluded enough to believe that he'd won the title match because he had played particularly brilliantly, or that Touya-sensei had lost because he'd played uncharacteristically poorly. No, Ogata had won because Touya-sensei's uncanny sense of balance had been off. Usually, Touya-sensei instinctively knew when to strike, and when to hold; he could sense the ebb and flow of the stones to a degree that was unsurpassed in the go world. In the aftermath of losing to s a i, however, Touya-sensei's moves had been brimming with surprising twists and ideas -- beautiful, refreshing go -- but it was still too raw, too full of unrefined kinetic energy to be wielded like a scalpel, even in a master's hands. Perhaps against a lesser player, or even simply a player who was not so familiar with his style, Touya Kouyou might have succeeded regardless. Not, however, against his oldest pupil, a pupil who was already able to go toe-to-toe with him on his best days. Ogata knew Touya-sensei's play intimately enough to realize precisely where to push when he'd spotted the tiny openings and rough edges, and that knowledge had been enough to tip the game in his favor.
There had been no such rough edges today, Ogata thought as he reviewed the entire game mentally, his eyes skimming the board. In the two years since playing s a i, Touya-sensei had refined and advanced his game to a level that Ogata had scarcely imagined possible. Ogata had followed Sensei's matches in the Beijing leagues, of course, but playing with Sensei himself, in person -- the experience wasn't comparable. In this game, there was a peculiar beauty to the shape of the stones. Even in the middle of the most violent clashes, the stones flowed together in harmony, the push of Black balanced perfectly by the pull of White, or White's offensive here echoed exactly by Black's defense there. Usually, one would expect to see some unnecessary overlap or excessive responses, even in a game between top players. It was natural: a player could hardly anticipate his opponent's thoughts to such a degree, even a familiar opponent. Or so Ogata had believed. The beautiful game before him was a testament to the contrary.
When had he become capable of such an exchange with with his teacher?
Ogata bowed low over the goban, feeling oddly humbled. “Makemashita.”
“Do you want to discuss the game?”
Ogata already knew where the critical mistakes had been made. “Not right now, thank you. I'm a little tired,” Ogata said, pulling off his glasses so he could rub at the tension at the bridge of his nose and his temples. He felt like he'd just played a title match game.
“I'm glad that you've been able to keep pace with me, Ogata-kun.”
Ogata opened his eyes to stare disbelievingly at Touya-sensei. Had he just...?
“Even though my go has changed, you were able to play very evenly against me. Your ability to adapt has grown stronger.”
Mutely, Ogata nodded. Sensei was complimenting him. Praise was rare from Sensei, although always sincere. Ogata replaced his glasses, and Touya-sensei's face sharpened back into focus. He was still studying the board, a thoughtful set to his features.
Ogata watched his teacher silently, waiting for him to finish his contemplation. Ogata had learned long ago that if he were patient, he had a far better chance of being privy to Sensei's insight.
After several minutes had passed, Touya-sensei stirred. “There is a certain type of game you can play only with an opponent who knows you very well. I had wondered if I would still be able to play this kind of game in Japan.”
Although Sensei had never directly said so, Ogata knew he'd been disappointed that none of his peers had managed to keep stride with him during his professional career. There was a certain traditionalism in the uppermost ranks of Japanese pros which - at its worst - led to complacency and stagnation. But for the past two years, Touya Kouyou had been continuously matching wits with the fiercely competitive pros in Korea, China, and Taiwan, constantly advancing his game.
“My early retirement caused many people difficulties, including my students,” Sensei stated evenly, without a hint of regret. His eyes grew distant. “It's been two years and six months.”
Two years and six months since he'd played s a i. Sensei had never explained that he was searching for s a i, but he hadn't needed to. Ogata had figured out Sensei's aim rather quickly - it was blatantly obvious, the way Sensei flitted from country to country whenever he received word of intriguing talent.
Touya-sensei looked up from the board suddenly, fixing Ogata with a sharp look. “When my Internet match with s a i was arranged, it was on the stipulation that I would not discuss it with others.”
“I see,” Ogata replied flatly. Obviously, Ogata couldn't blame his teacher for honoring a secret. Ogata supposed that this made him the guilty party, as he had had no promise barring him from speaking freely about s a i. Was this what Sensei was driving at? Ogata already knew he was in the wrong for keeping Fujiwara hidden. He didn't need a lecture.
“However, I also thought that if you had the opportunity to play him, it would inspire your go as well.” Touya-sensei's expression gentled. “And I thought that s a i would enjoy having another strong opponent, since Shindou-kun was so passionate about my playing him.”
Ogata blinked, taken completely aback by the turn of the conversation. “You... really thought that?” he asked, realizing only belatedly that he probably sounded like a middle school boy. He was lucky his mouth wasn't hanging open.
Touya-sensei gestured at Ogata's assault into White's territory. “Before, you would have not made this move against me with the outcome uncertain. Playing Fujiwara-san has made you bolder.”
A “Thank you,” was all Ogata could manage to string together, his mind swirling with the revelation that Sensei had wanted him to play s a i. Sensei had been thinking of Ogata and Fujiwara, whereas Ogata had only been thinking of his resentment about being left out of the loop about s a i.
For the second time that day, Ogata felt humbled -- this time, because of the generosity of his teacher's spirit.
Touya-sensei tucked his arms back into his haori sleeves with a grave air. “You already know that I disagree with how you handled finding Fujiwara-san, when you realized his identity. You shouldn't have kept him apart from Shindou-kun.”
Ogata willed himself not to shift his gaze away. He wasn't in the habit of shirking responsibility for his mistakes, although explaining the situation had been much easier over the phone with the blessed absence of Touya-sensei's penetrating stare.
“Excepting that, it was fortunate that you were the one to find him. You've prepared him for a normal life again, and you helped him remember his go. I'm certain that must have been a great comfort to him.”
Ogata tipped his head in acknowledgment. He supposed the go had been a comfort. That he hadn't played Fujiwara for almost two weeks - ever since their confrontation - wasn't a matter he was inclined to mention to anyone, especially Touya-sensei. Go meant so much to Fujiwara, so being excluded from that aspect of his life (even voluntarily) was... disconcerting to say the least.
Regardless, Fujiwara had asked Ogata to attend his game tomorrow, a game that held great significance for him.
“Does he really have no family?” The lines around Touya-sensei's mouth deepened into a frown.
“According to Shindou, no.” And the lack of any missing person reports filed, and the fact that Fujiwara's picture had been circulated throughout the entire Japanese police network, yet failed to generate even a single inquiry. If Fujiwara did actually have a family, they weren't trying to find him.
Sympathy flashed in Touya-sensei's dark eyes. “That is a shame. Family is important.”
Ogata thought of his mother, and the father he hated. “Yes, it is.”
Touya-sensei looked at him carefully, then returned his attention to the goban, his expression shifting to one of deep absorption.
From their long acquaintance, Ogata knew the session was over. “Thank you for your instruction,” he said, bowing before he stood up.
Touya-sensei made no answer until Ogata was mid-step through the shouji sliding door. “Ogata-kun. Thank you for looking after Fujiwara-san.”
Ogata's hand tightened around the door frame. Sensei sounded genuinely grateful, despite his knowledge that Ogata's motives had been far from altruistic. Ogata didn't know how to respond.
“You should come tomorrow. Observing the game will be of benefit to you.”
They both wanted him there. “Yes, I will,” Ogata said, his throat suddenly constricting, and he was relieved that his back was facing the room. He didn't want Sensei to see the expression on his face.
When Ogata got into his car, he shook his head in disbelief at himself. After all these years... Sensei was still able to affect him like very few people could. Ogata snorted, lighting a cigarette to relax himself for driving.
That didn't really matter, though. What mattered was the game he was going to witness tomorrow.
* * *
To Part 2.