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Chapter Text

Touya Akira glanced up doubtfully at the signboard at the entrance of the bar. It was no different from all the other establishments on this street: it was small, seedy-looking and stank of stale cigarette smoke. This was his last shot. Shindou had better be in this one; otherwise, Touya decided, he was going to go back and apologise the next day instead.

No, that was not true. Touya acknowledged to himself that he would probably continue looking until he found Shindou. It was truly a slip of the tongue, one that Touya usually prided himself on not making. Shindou, however, had a talent for making him say impossible things at times. Still, he knew that demanding Shindou to tell him about Sai was probably unwise, especially when it was approaching May.

Luckily, he spotted the familiar blond head at a corner of the bar, slapping down a cup with clumsy enthusiasm. Shindou seldom drank unless he had company, and it looked like he had found a drinking buddy. Touya entered, nodding at the proprietor's greeting and indicating with a lift of his head that he was with them. The bar was empty otherwise.

As he approached, he could hear Shindou say, "Oh, yeah! Did you know, if you play with your left hand it makes you look clumsy, and then your opponent underestimates you?"

"That reminds me of the time I played with Maeda I played with both hands. It confused him." His partner gave a rumbling laugh. "Lost by eight moku and a half."

Shindou pointed at him. "You're a wicked old man," he shook his finger severely, and suddenly sounded more enthusiastic. You pretended to be dozing when you were playing Mashiba-san, didn't you?" He didn't seem to notice as Touya sat down beside him, and neither did Kuwabara.

"He was so nervous he didn't know what to do with himself," Kuwabara chuckled. "Come on, drink up!"

"Yeah!" Shindou downed the next drink. "You're famous for-"

"Holding on to my title?"

Shindou waved a hand in denial, and Touya watched as he nearly swept the cups off the table. "Nah. For scaring people and out-psych... psych-ing them. I heard what you did when Ogata challenged you the first time. You made him so nervous he couldnt play properly!"

Kuwabara's laugh echoed through the empty bar. "Stick with me, punk, and I'll teach you some good tricks."

"Che!" Shindou snorted. "I have pretty good ones of my own, old man!"

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like like if I play 'attach' over here, you'd think I was making a big mistake!"

To Touya's amusement, they were discussing Go on the table, on a 'Go board' formed artfully from toothpicks and pieces of candy.

Kuwabara cackled. "Call that a trick?" he scoffed. "You're getting known for playing tricks on your opponents, punk. No one will ever fall for that!" He knocked back his own drink - he and Shindou kept filling each others cups - and nudged a stone (actually a sugar cube) two spaces away. "See, that'd reel them in!"

Shindou peered at the makeshift Go board, his eyes nearly crossing. "Might work, yeah..." He looked up at Kuwabara. "You're a bloody genius, old man. Have another drink, it's on me!"

"Thank you." The older pro drank, then spoke. "Isn't it a bit late for you, punk?" he asked. "Look, your other half's already here to get you."

Touya barely had time to blink at the realisation that Kuwabara had noticed him, before Shindou swivelled around, and spotted him. His cheeks were reddened with alcohol, making him look about five years younger. "It's Touya!" he crowed.

With that, he latched onto Touya's neck like a limpet, nearly upsetting the two of them to the floor by the force of his movement. "You're here, Touya," he said as he slobbered into Touya's shirt.

"You're drunk, Shindou," Touya said, trying to disentangle himself. If Kuwabara's grin got any wider, his face was going to split in two, he thought with asperity. With some difficulty, he managed to pull out his wallet and take out enough money (he hoped) to settle Shindou's bill.

"No!" Shindou shook his head vehemently, worrying at Touya's shirt collar like a terrier.

"Yes. You're drunk, Shindou."

"No! 'm not Shindou."

Touya paused. That was not what he was expecting. "Yes, you are," he said. "You're Shindou Hikaru. Remember?"

"I'm Sai."

Certainly not what he was expecting. "What?" he asked, before he realized he was questioning someone who was currently incapable of telling right from left. "Never mind. I'm sorry I asked you about Sai. Now. You're Shindou Hikaru. Let's go back, all right?"

"No! I'm Sai," Shindou nodded his head firmly, his chin knocking on Touya's shoulder with each movement. "I am Sai. Sai am I. That's the secret."

"What secret?" Kuwabara asked.

"Shhh!" Shindou shushed him. "I said, it's a secret!"

Touya tried not to roll his eyes. "Of all the times for you to tell me about Sai-" he began.

"Sai!" Shindou moaned. "I'm Sai!"

"Well, it's time for you to turn back into Shindou Hikaru again, all right?" Touya said.

"I want Sai," Shindou said, but he let Touya pull him to his feet. "Let's play Go. We'll play for a thousand years, okay?"

"Yes, Shindou," he said. At least Shindou had stopped insisting he was Sai. No wonder he balked at revealing the details about Sai; it seemed to be a complicated secret. He shifted Shindou's arm so he could hold on to the other pro properly, before glancing at Kuwabara. "Sensei-"

"I'll be fine. They'll call a taxi for me. You'd better bring Shindou back." He seemed utterly content to sit there and contemplate the makeshift Go board.

Despite the clinging weight on his arm, Touya managed a polite bow. "Goodnight, sensei," he said, before he half-dragged, half-walked Shindou out.

The cold air outside seemed to revive Shindou a little, and he began to stand on his own. "Do you know the older pros do weird stuff at title games to rile one another up?" he asked.

"I've heard that, yes," Touya said, wondering if they ought to call for a taxi.

"Kuwabara says he sings drinking songs while his opponent is thinking," Shindou said. "And he says Sakai-sensei does the rumba while sitting down. Do you think we will ever be that weird?"

"I hope not."

"I think it sounds like fun. Even your father does it."

"My father?" He reminded himself that despite his even tone, Shindou was rip-roaringly drunk. He was not responsible for the things he said.

"Yeah... I mean, he doesn't do anything funny. But he gets this look, like you owe him a billion yen or something, and he puts down the stones extra hard, and they're always perfectly straight. That must creep his opponents out."

Touya fought a snort. "That's all?" he asked.

"I mean, they don't even wobble! That's weird, right?"

"Shindou, I never thought I'd say this, but you're thinking too much."

"No! I'm Sai."

Before Touya could correct him, Shindou nodded once. "I'm Sai, Touya. Really. Or rather," the expression on his face turned sad. "I was Sai."

"Shindou..."

"I'll tell you, if you really want to know," Shindou said.

"What?"

"Tomorrow. First thing tomorrow."

His heart beating fast, Touya stared open-mouthed at Shindou's sudden, determined look. Remembering the events of the evening earlier, he said, "Shindou, I shouldn't have pushed. You don't have to tell me if you don't want..."

"I want." Shindou hummed to himself, and nodded again, the sadness from lifting his face just as quickly. "Sai's Go is in my Go," he said with another nod. "I don't mind." Shindou shook his head wildly, and swayed, as though dazed by the movement.

Touya reached out and grabbed his wrist, hard.

Shindou stopped swaying, and turned to grin at Touya, his smile so infectious that Touya found himself smiling back, helplessly.

Chapter Text

As Touya expected, the bar was mostly deserted. The proprietor, who recognised him, jerked his head in the direction of the two men seated at the far end. Touya inclined his head, and walked towards the pair, who were so intent on their drinking that they didn't even notice him.

At least, Shindou hadn't. Kuwabara had, however, looked up from his newest drink, and though he barely raised an eyebrow, Touya knew that the older pro had seen him. Instead of acknowledging him, though, Kuwabara turned to Shindou again, and said, "So, after knowing him for so long, you still haven't picked up any manners from him?"

"I have perfectly good manners, old man," Shindou retorted.

"Then why is it Touya-kun is known to be polite, and you are just a rude and careless brat?"

"Oh no," Shindou said. "Touya only looks polite. If you threaten him, or if he thinks of you as an opponent, he gets this huffy look that says, 'You, defeat me?' and he glares." He looked into the distance for a moment. "Touya's eyes are really pretty when he glares, though." There was a wistful note in his voice.

Standing slightly to the side, out of Shindou's line of sight, Touya managed not to choke.

Kuwabaras gaze focused on him briefly, then turned back to Shindou. "Pretty, huh?" he muttered. "Are you sure you haven't been drinking too much?"

"I can still drink you under the table, old man," Shindou declared. To prove his point, he snatched up the brimming sake cup and knocked it back, then dropped the cup, before resting his elbows on the sake-splattered table and propping his head on his hands. "Too bad Touya is never in the mood before one of the title games," he revealed to the older pro.

Predictably, Kuwabara laughed. "Not in the mood, huh, punk? Hadn't thought you were the sort to wait for him to make a move."

Touya cringed at the thought that Shindou was about to tell the old and venerable Kuwabara Honinbou about their sex life, and wondered whether it would be less embarrassing to interrupt Shindou now, or later.

"He looks so good when he's focused," Shindou continued, his voice a little dreamy now, "and his eyes are so shiny, and his lips go in a straight line, like this," he attempted to demonstrate by pinching his own lips between thumb and finger, pursing them at Kuwabara.

Touya privately thought that Shindou looked like a duck. With yellow feathers.

Then Shindou was drifting to other topics. "Touya-sensei is exactly the same way, come to think of it," he said.

"He makes raspberries at you?" Kuwabara asked. "Hadn't thought that Touyo Kouyo had that in him."

Touya managed to muffle his cough.

"No!" Shindou waved his sake cup wildly in negation. "I mean, he gets this look on his face too, when he plays Go, like it's life or death."

"All Go is life or death, Shindou."

"Yeah," Shindou sat up a little, and helped himself liberally to more sake. "How long have you had your goban, Sensei?" he asked, real curiosity showing through the sake-soaked tone.

Touya's ears pricked up.

Kuwabara sipped his sake, and narrowed his eyes at Shindou. "I've had the same goban for longer than you've been alive, punk. I bought it with the money I won in my first big tournament. Young people these days... they change their gobans as frequently as they change phones. As soon as they can get a better one, or a more expensive one! I bet you didn't even buy your own, punk."

Shindou shook his head. "Grandpa bought me my goban. He said it was to encourage me to be better at Go."

"Che!" Kuwabara poured more sake for him. "I hope you don't assume that an expensive goban makes you play better Go. You don't look that dumb."

Shindou knocked back his sake, and stuck out his tongue. "It's not an expensive goban," he said.

"Oh, really?"

"Its of cassia wood," Shindou snorted, "so there." He poured more sake. "It's considered a cheap goban, I know that, but-" he rested his chin on the tabletop. "Therere many memories associated with my goban."

"Good memories?"

Shindou sighed. "Some good, some bad. Mostly good." He drained his cup, and Kuwabara poured him more. "I don't know. I grew up with that goban. Once I thought I lost a friend but I found him when I played on it," he chewed on his lip. "It's very precious to me."

"So what's the problem, kid?" Kuwabara asked. He indicated the refilled cup. "Go on, drink up!"

Shindou frowned at the sake cup. "I guess there isn't," he said as realisation slowly dawned. "Yeah. I'll just keep the goban. Touya won't mind, anyway. Right!" he grinned.

"Good. Now will you go home? I think Touya-kun's feet must be getting tired by now."

Touya jumped. Shindou raised his head, the word 'Touya' freezing on his lips as he spotted his rival.

"Touya? What are you doing here?" Shindou asked, his words a little slurred.

Kuwabara cackled. "He came to find you, of course. What kind of brainless person would go to a bar without wearing his jacket or bringing his wallet? I hope you weren't planning to sponge off me, punk. Not with the games you're winning."

"I forgot them when I left home, okay?" Shindou asked with drunken belligerence. His eyes focused on Touya. "Touya, you came to find me!" he exclaimed, his lower lip trembling just a little. He looked about five.

"Like Kuwabara-sensei said, you didn't bring your jacket," Touya said, starting to throw the jacket at him, but changed his mind at the last minute and put it around Shindous' shoulders instead.

"You came to find me!" Shindou repeated, sitting closer to the edge so Touya could drape the heavy jacket around him. He seemed in danger of falling out of his seat. "And did I mention before, you have very pretty eyes?"

Touya shook his head. "Shindou, you're drunk. Come on, let's go back."

" 'kay," he stood up, then sat down again.

"Shindou?" Touya wondered if he had really drunk too much. "What is it?"

Shindou looked up at him, his expression plaintive as a child's. "Touya, is the goban still there?" he asked.

"Of course," He remembered what Shindou had been telling Kuwabara, and realized his earlier suspicions were correct. "If you mean the one Yoneda-san delivered this afternoon, I've put it in the storeroom until we decide what to do with it. Really, Shindou, do you expect me to pick up after you?"

Shindou came as close to a pout as Touya had ever seen him. "I don't want to change gobans, even if mine is just 'a cheap goban used by housewives'." He quoted the words in a resigned, glum tone, and sounded like he was on the verge of bursting into tears.

"You don't have to," Touya said. "I agree that it is a perfectly good goban, all right?" He had known something wasn't quite right when Yoneda delivered the expensive kaya-wood goban, and had set out to persuade Shindou that a top player like him also required a top-class goban. After the goban merchant left, Shindou had been restless for a few hours, until he finally gone out, saying he wanted to be left alone.

Shindou's eyes widened at Touya's reply. "Really?" he asked.

Touya gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yes," he said, and braced himself.

Sure enough, Shindou barrelled into him. "Touya!" he exclaimed. "I knew you'd understand about Sai!"

"What?" Touya started to question further, but realised that he had better dealt with a drunken Shindou, who was a great deal heavier than he looked, instead. "Shindou, stop that, you dropped your jacket-"

Kuwabara started cackling.

The sound made Shindou look up from where he was nuzzling Touya's jacket. "Huh, what?" He looked around the bar for a few seconds, shrugged, and went back to burying his face in Touya's neck.

"Put on your jacket," Touya said, wondering why he was bothering, as Shindou wasn't listening. Despite Shindou's arms around him, he managed to get his wallet out, called the proprietor over, and settled the bill for Shindou and Kuwabara.

The older pro smirked in a way that made Touya blush. "So now you also re-arrange his furniture?" he asked.

"Goodnight, Kuwabara-sensei," Touya said blandly. He grabbed Shindou's jacket and half-walked, half-dragged Shindou out of the bar.

This time, Touya was prepared and had a taxi waiting for them. He bundled Shindou into the back, and got in after him. The driver glanced at them from his rearview mirror - probably hoping that Shindou wasn't going to throw up, and started driving.

After a few minutes, Shindou said, "Touya." He didnt sound as drunk, and was instead sitting up straight, staring out of the window.

"Yes?"

"I played with Sai on that goban. I know it isn't the best, and pros like you should play on a top goban, like Yoneda said-"

"Shindou," Touya decided to set him straight. "For most of my life, I either played on my father's goban, or I used the portable ones at the salon. I don't need a 'top' goban to play Go. I just need a good opponent. All right?"

The smile on Shindou's face was all the answer he needed.

Chapter Text

This time, Touya pulled up a chair for himself and sat down at the tiny table, watching Kuwabara and Shindou take turns to pour each other sake. "Shindou..." he began, unsure if he should interrupt them.

Shindou turned to him with the goofiest smile he had ever seen. "Touya!" he said. "You found us... hic!" he gave a drunken hiccup, and without warning, reached out and grabbed Touya's right hand before he could protest, before displaying the appendage, for Kuwabara's apparent inspection. "See, didn't I tell you that Touya's hands are the nicest?" he demanded, his voice haughty with triumph. "When he plays Go, you can't take your eyes off his hands. Who would be interested in looking at your skinny, wrinkly hands, old man?"

"Shindou!" Touya tried to pull his hand back, but Shindou only turned to him again, his grip still tight. "Touya," he said. "You're still my rival, right?" he asked, then seemingly satisfied with something he saw on Touya's face, pushed a cup towards him, and splashed sake into it. "Drink up, Touya!"

Touya shifted his chair closer. At least Shindou didn't persist in trying to shove his hand in Kuwabara's face again. Frankly, he was half-afraid that Shindou would try to do something more embarrassing, but all Shindou seem to do was to turn his attention back to Kuwabara. Touya was only a little surprised to see that Shindou had placed his old, battered magnetic Go set on the table between the two of them, and it looked like they were in the process of going over the afternoon's game. Shindou released his hand as he started to point out a formation on the Go board, his words tumbling over one another in his haste.

The first game of the Honinbou finals, which had taken two days, had ended that afternoon. As Touya feared, the game had been a circus the first day, leading to consternation from everyone but the participants. To add to the insult, Shindou and Kuwabara had openly grinned at the various reactions they got. Touya had to restrain himself from yelling at the two of them for insulting the game of Go.

However, with one hour to the finish on the second day, just as nearly everyone was about to assign this game mentally under the annals of "utterly stupid games played by pros", Shindou and Kuwabara had stunned the observers, the game officials, and the reporters by simultaneously launching themselves into the game and finishing it with lightning speed that made commentary utterly useless. Touya thought he saw the game recorders nearly cry from the stress of trying to record each hand accurately, a task that was near-impossible due to the speed at which the stones seem to position themselves onto the Go board. Neither Shindou nor Kuwabara noticed; in that hour, their concentration had been total and they seemed to have ignored the existence of everyone else in the world.

They had also played one of the most brilliant games to appear in the Go world in the last few months.

By the time Kuwabara indicated his resignation with a toss of his stones, Touya could see that even the older pros were practically salivating over themselves to start the post-game discussion. That was when Shindou, his face flushed from exertion, had turned to the empty air to his left, and before the dozens of watching eyes, loudly asked, "How did I do, Sai?"

Silence had fallen on the room with the force of a sledgehammer after that. It didn't help that Shindou, upon realising what he had said, had clapped both hands over his mouth, and turned the colour of his white stones. He stood up then, stumbling from slightly numb legs, and tried to leave. When the reporters and the pros clamoured to ask him what he meant by the reference to Sai, he had muttered "Leave me alone!" before running away.

A dozen reporters and dozens of Go friends hadn't been able to find him. Then again, a dozen reporters and dozens of Go friends didn't know about his drinking buddy or his watering hole.

Touya gave a start as Shindou tugged at his hand. "Drink, Touya!" he urged, before his attention turned to the Go board again. "I knew it!" he exclaimed to Kuwabara. "I was thinking of opening over here too," he pointed, with a glare at the older pro. "That was when you tried to distract me, by upsetting your go-ke, wasn't it? Stones flying all over the floor. 'Accident', indeed!" he accused.

Kuwabara's eyes were narrowed too. "If you are so easily distracted by a simple incident like that, you don't deserve to play with me."

Shindou's eyes flashed as he knocked back a drink. "Then you pretended that you couldn't figure out which hand to play!" Shindou pointed his sake cup, in lieu of a finger, at him. "You hemmed and hawed for a good fifteen minutes. You didn't fool anyone, old man."

"And that was when you started to 'stir' your go-ke, wasn't it?" Kuwabara asked, "Didn't anyone tell you that it's rude to stick your fingers into your go-ke before it was time to make a move, punk?" Kuwabara looked blandly upwards, sipping from his cup.

"Che!" Shindou snorted. "Anything you can do, I can do better, old man!" He reached out to pour more sake for the two of them. "Drink up!" he demanded.

"Oh?" Kuwabara took the refilled cup and drained it. "Was that why you took thirty minutes to play this hand?" he extended a finger, yellowed from the cigarettes, at the corner of the Go board. "And you put down the stone so loudly that it gave everyone a start."

"You were pretending to snore!" Shindou said, getting increasingly boisterous. "And like you can talk! You took one hour to play the next hand."

"You started to play 'spin the bottle' with your go-ke cover," Kuwabara said. "I wanted to let you play to your heart's content, little boy."

Shindou spluttered. "You were picking out dirt from beneath your fingernails," he said loudly. "Do you know how disgusting that is?"

"You hummed 'Old Macdonald had a farm', and you made your white stones moo at each other."

"You picked lint from your clothes, and flicked them in my direction."

"Well, you slurped your tea extra loudly," Kuwabara countered.

"You pretended to choke!" Shindou said, his eyes bright.

"You faked a cough!" Kuwabara accused, his brow furrowed, finally showing signs of agitation.

"Cheater!"

"Punk!"

"Banzai!" The shout from both voices was loud enough to make the proprietor look up.

And before Touya's mystified eyes, the two snatched up their cups, clashed them together in a fervent toast--spilling half the contents--and drank up.

Shindou wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his white shirt, slapping down his cup with a loud clang. "And it's all your fault that we didn't play more than thirty hands on the first day, old man," he said.

"I wanted to make it easy for you to seal the game," Kuwabara said, laying down his cup more gently; the toast seemed to have driven the agitation from his demeanour. His martyred look fooled no one.

Shindou snorted, and poured more sake. "You don't make it easy for anyone, you... you old fossil," he jabbed a finger at the Go board again. "Who plays that hand these days?" he demanded.

"I wanted to rattle you," Kuwabara admitted, as he ignored Shindou's 'hah'. "It was popular, oh, more than one hundred years ago. I didn't expect you to know the correct response to that."

Shindou stuck out his tongue briefly. "I know more than you think," he declared.

"It's quite rare. Hardly anyone uses it now. I learnt about that hand from my teacher through shidougo."

"Shidougo..." Frowning as he tried to recall, Shindou said, "I don't think I've ever had anyone play shidougo with me." He turned to Touya. "Touya, do you know?"

Touya stared at him in amazement. "How would I know?" he asked, trying to sound reasonable.

Shindou's lower lip stuck out a little. "But I thought you'd know. You know me best."

"But not about how you learnt Go."

"So from what you know, no one has ever played shidougo with Shindou?" Kuwabara asked.

"The first game we ever played was an even game, sort of..." Touya glanced at Shindou at that. "After that..."

"After that I went for a few Go classes, and later I joined the school Go club!" Shindou said, with the air of someone making a sudden discovery. "So, no shidougo!"

"That's a little unusual. Even Touya-kun must have played his share of shidougo games with his father," Kuwabara said, nodding at Touya. "No wonder you play the way you do," he said to Shindou.

"What do you mean by that?" Shindou asked suspiciously, turning his attention to Kuwabara.

"You don't expect your opponent to give you any mercy. From your Go, I can see that you're used to playing on an equal basis even with the strongest opponents."

"Yeah, well," Shindou's eyes focused on the Go board, but Touya could see that his thoughts were far away. "The person I played with... he was my friend, and I didn't want him to play shidougo with me. Now..." he sighed. "Maybe I should have done so. Maybe I should have let him play more..." His face fell, and he slumped in his seat.

Feeling helpless, Touya could only reach up to pat Shindou awkwardly on the back. He looked up uncertainly, wondering if Kuwabara was about to make a cutting remark.

But Kuwabara's eyes were sharp. "This friend of yours..." he said slowly. "Is he called Sai?"

Touya found himself nodding before he realised what he was doing, and froze.

Shindou nodded, his eyes still downcast.

"I've heard the name here and there. A strange sort of friend," Kuwabara said. "You think about him often," he went on, "but he's no longer around, is he?" he asked.

"N-no."

"Huh." Kuwabara took a sip from his cup. "Even your mentor is like a ghost. Shindou, you are one strange kid."

Shindou gave a start at the word 'ghost', and looked up. Seeing nothing, his gaze turned to the floor again.

Kuwabara put down his cup, and addressed Shindou directly. "Oy! Shindou!"

"W...what?"

Touya was relieved for the first time to hear the whine in his voice, as Shindou looked up to face Kuwabara.

"I hope you don't think you're going to be winning the rest of the games, punk," Kuwabara said. "You were only lucky today. I won't make it easy for you in our next game. Maybe I'll play shidougo with you."

"Che!" Shindou had sat up to face the older pro directly. He didn't look like he was dwelling on Sai anymore. "No way, old man!" he declared. "Just wait, I'm going to make you eat your words," he said, his eyes red-rimmed, but his grin was wide enough to reach his ears.

"I'll look forward to that," Kuwabara said, with a distinctly disbelieving tone. He poured Shindou more sake. "Never-played-shidougo-before punk!"

Touya called an end to their drunken discussion one hour later. Shindou's words were starting to slur, and Kuwabara was developing a decidedly salacious grin at the way Shindou was worming himself into Touya's chest. He settled the bill in tune to Shindou's whispers in his ear about how he was going to kick Kuwabara's ass in the next Honinbou game, and how he was going to get Touya drunk when he did so.

Kuwabara had the proprietor call taxis for them. Out of respect, Touya let the older pro take the first one, and waited outside the bar for the next with Shindou. Shindou muttered under his breath after Kuwabara left, his head stirring from its position on Touya's shoulder. "He's not playing shidougo with me," he grumbled, then blinked up at Touya. "You look nice from here, Touya," he said.

"I wish I could say the same for you," Touya said. Shindou's suit was crumpled; strangely, he looked like any salaryman going home after a drinking session, rather than a Go pro.

"Was... was there a big fuss, after I left, earlier?" Shindou asked after a while, his voice sounding more sober.

"It's all right," Touya said, though he could imagine all too well how the other pros were going to descend upon Shindou the next morning.

"I really wished he could have seen that game!" Shindou said.

"Shindou..."

"I wouldn't let Sai play shidougo, you know," Shindou confessed suddenly. "He wanted, but I wouldn't let him. I said I didn't want him to give in to me." He sighed. "I was young and stupid. He was so much better..."

"You never want anyone to give in to you, Shindou. You've always wanted to do it by yourself," Touya said. He thought about what Shindou had been muttering moments before. "Now, you're not going to let Kuwabara-sensei play shidougo with you, are you?"

"Him?" Shindou straightened in his indignation, nearly stumbling over Touya's feet. He grabbed Touya's hand, as tightly as he had done so earlier that evening, and grinned in relief as he found his balance. "Old Man Kuwabara had better be careful I don't play shidougo with him instead!"

Chapter Text

Touya told himself that his presence was required to ensure that Shindou would be able to get home safely after his drinking session, though really he had come to ensure that Kuwabara would not, in fact, murder him. So far, his worries had only been partly assuaged: Kuwabara was liable to shoot vicious glares at Shindou every now and then, even after two hours of determined drinking, but he had not done anything worse.

The table was silent except for the sound of drinking and sake cups being refilled, and the smell of sake was becoming nauseating. The proprietor, who was more used to seeing this set of customers arguing loudly, was giving Touya curious looks.

"I'm sorry, okay!" Shindou suddenly growled.

Kuwabara ignored him.

After five minutes, Shindou slapped down his cup, and glared back at him. "Who stuck the stick up your ass, anyway!" he demanded. "Stop staring at me."

It was so much like Shindou to take the offensive, even in matters where it was technically his fault, Touya reflected, even as Kuwabara responded, "I'll stop staring as soon as you explain yourself, you little shit."

Shindou's expression turned mutinous again.

A bare five minutes before what was, arguably, one of the most important games of his professional life, Shindou had stood up, his body rigid with shock for no reason Touya could see, and asked for a postponement. The officials hastily declared an unprecedented thirty-minute delay, and bundled Shindou to a private room for a private talk. Ten minutes later, Shindou had announced a change of mind: he would go on with the game, after all, though Touya could see that he was still pale and had barely managed to pull himself together.

Kuwabara, who seemed to have taken Shindou's actions as a massive insult, had spent the entire game stalking Shindou with bloodthirsty intent. To Shindou's credit, he held on grimly and managed a two-and-a-half moku loss, which was not insignificant considering his initial lack of composure. But it was a game which frayed the nerves. By the time the game ended, Touya felt as exhausted as though he had been playing the game, instead of Shindou.

It was also by the time the game ended that Touya realized what was wrong. Shindou's hands were empty; his fingers were curved around his go-ke and they twitched restlessly on empty air when he bowed his head to resign. There was no fan.

Shindou had kept a Japanese-styled fan by his side soon after he returned to Go, and over the years it had become his trademark. He never unfurled it, but held it as he contemplated a game. When he laid it down, it usually meant that Shindou had begun to play in earnest. He had been known to tap the fan on the go-ke when he was impatient with how the game was going, and some of the more easily intimidated pros had been known to resign on cue just from hearing the sharp, firm 'thunk'.

Touya watched as Shindou poured more sake for himself and Kuwabara, and downed his own. Then he poured himself another cup and drank that too. "Shindou" he began.

Shindou leant back, and for a second Touya thought that he was about to pass out. But he only dug into his pocket, pulled out something and slapped it down on the table between Kuwabara and himself.

It was the fan, of course. Shindou had left the minute the game ended, and Touya knew he must have gone back home to look for it.

Kuwabara raised an eyebrow at the object. "This was what made you back down from the game?" he asked.

Either Kuwabara had noticed the lack of a fan in the game, or he had just deduced Shindou's reasons for wanting a postponement. The old man was sharp, indeed.

Shindou helped himself to more sake. "It was his," he finally said. "He gave it to me."

"And this is a reason for clinging on it so strongly that you can't function without it?" Kuwabara asked.

Shindou flinched as though he had been punched. "I-" he started, then looked at Touya as though for assistance. "It was his!" he repeated.

Touya froze as the sense of Shindou's words penetrated his mind. "Sai... this was from Sai?" he choked. Actually, he had heard that Shindou bought the fan from the shop at the Go Institute.

Shindou nodded. He turned back to Kuwabara. "Today was the first time I forgot to bring it. I panicked. I thought I couldn't play without it."

Kuwabara still looked as though he would have liked to remove Shindou's entrails by hand. "You are the stupidest opponent I have had, if you think that," he said.

"But Shindou-" Touya started, trying to make sense out of his disordered thoughts.

Shindou was bristling at Kuwabara's tone. "I had a shock, old man!" he said.

"What are you, a ten-year-old?" Kuwabara retorted.

"Ten-year-old!" Shindou spluttered. "A ten-year-old is someone who gets a grudge just because someone wouldn't play with him!"

"As though someone who can't play without his security blanket is any better. You're no better than a five-year-old!"

"Shindou-" Touya tried again.

Shindou was too intent on returning the insult to hear him. "Five-year-old!" he shouted. "When I was five years old I was showing the kids at kindergarten that I was boss!"

"Ooh, I'm scared." Kuwabara's expression belied his words, however. "When you were five years old, I was already defeating challengers for my title."

"And when I was three, I could play baseball!" Shindou shouted, somewhat incoherently by now. He turned to Touya suddenly. "What were you doing when you were three, Touya?"

Taken aback by the question, Touya stuttered, "I-I was playing Go." He tried again. "Shindou, when you said Sai gave you the fan, what did you mean?"

But Shindou had already turned back to Kuwabara. "Playing Go when you're three," he said as he shook his own head.

"Shindou!"

"Drink up, Touya!" Shindou urged before pouring Touya a cup.

He turned to Kuwabara again. "It's important to me, this fan," he said, more serious now, looking down at the fan on the table. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, so will you stop acting like someone dumped you?" he said.

Kuwabara cracked a smile for the first time that evening, though his gimlet-eyed glare was still just as ferocious. "We'll see how you play in our next game, punk," he said.

"Huh." Shindou poured more sake for the two of them. "I'm winning the next one, fan or no fan. Get ready to surrender your title, old man."

Since Shindou was in no danger of being glared to death by Kuwabara, Touya suggested that the drinking party come to an end sometime after midnight. This time, he insisted that Shindou foot the bill--which included a generous tip for the harassed proprietor--and saw Kuwabara into a taxi. Their taxi arrived soon after, and Touya made Shindou get in, and climbed in after him.

"Shindou," he asked after a while, remembering what he had been trying to ask.

"Yes?" Shindou asked, before he laid his cheek on Touya's shoulder. It had not escaped his attention that Shindou's fist was still clenched tightly around the fan.

"Shindou, did Sai-"

"Yeah," Shindou nodded. Then his face fell. "It was in a dream."

Touya allowed himself an unobtrusive sigh of relief. For a while, he had thought that either ghosts were corporeal, or that Shindou was hallucinating things. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"It was after our first game together, after I started playing again," Shindou said, before he sighed. "I dreamt about him. Do you know, he used to point out Go hands using it? It's like a part of him."

"I see."

"I guess I thought that so as long I had it-had this," Shindou raised his hand, with the fan still in it. "I wouldn't forget him."

"You wouldn't forget him, Shindou," he said.

"Yeah. Believe it or not, it took a game with the old man to make me realise it," Shindou said, looking up at him, his eyes blurry, though his grip on the fan never wavered. Touya watched as the stressed lines of his face slowly smoothed out and a soft smile appeared in its place. He returned the smile as Shindou sank into sleep.

Chapter Text

Touya stared across the table at the occupant sitting opposite him in the bar. Terrible music--scratchy and something J-pop--was playing from the radio at the counter, and the proprietor was pretending to wipe a glass, all the while shooting suspicious glances at them. Touya glanced down at his sake cup, which was still full, and looked up again.

"It won't turn into water however you stare at it," Kuwabara said. "Are you going to drink or not?"

"This isn't helping," Touya said.

"No shit," Kuwabara scowled at him from across the table. "You are the most boring drinking partner I've ever had, with the exception of your father. Are you sure you're Japanese?"

Insults were Kuwabara's stock-in-trade, so Touya ignored him, only adding, "This isn't a good idea."

"I don't know what Shindou sees in you, anyway, except maybe enforced sobriety," Kuwabara said.

Touya felt his heart skip, but managed to control to himself. He didn't want to give the old man an opportunity to heckle him about him and Shindou.

As he hoped, Kuwabara didn't seem to have noticed Touya's silence; he only poured himself more sake and knocked it back. Then he poured another and drank that too, before he sat back to study Touya. "All right, since I'm doing this on the brat's account-"

"You don't have to-"

"-even if he did trick me into meeting you, here's it: how was the game with Ogata-kun?"

Touya didn't flinch, but dismay filled him as he remembered what happened the day before, when he had challenged Ogata for the Juudan title in the first of the five final games. The bitterness at his crushing defeat seemed to burn him, even now. Eight moku. He had not lost by such a great margin for years!

Judging from the smirk on Kuwabara's face, Touya knew that he had not managed to hide his feelings about the game.

"Ogata-kun has always been a bit vicious," Kuwabara said, pronouncing the last word with relish. "He may hide it under that cool image he's created for himself, but his speciality is to go in for the kill."

It was clear that Kuwabara actually liked Ogata for that.

"You grew up with him, so maybe you don't see that," Kuwabara said. "Of course, you learnt Go from that old woman, Touya Kouyo himself, so you've been corrupted by his idealistic bullshit."

"Kuwabara-sensei!"

A loud cackle of laughter made him realise that he had been goaded. Kuwabara was looking amused now. "I thought this would be a boring evening, but you're just as easy to rile as Shindou, aren't you?"

Touya didn't feel like dignifying his barbs with a response.

Kuwabara went on, "I used to think that you were as dull as your father, but I changed my mind when I learnt that you were the one who brought Shindou into this world. I thought to myself, someone who knows the worth of Shindou in this world isn't going to be a dull duck."

"-dull-" Shindou wasn't kidding when he said that Kuwabara spared no tact for anyone.

Kuwabara laughed at Touya's reaction and waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. "You have no idea how lively Shindou has made this world for me. After so many years, when I thought I had seen everything, too!"

It took a moment for Touya to realise that he meant the Go world. From the way Kuwabara spoke, it was as though the Go world was in a different dimension altogether. But he thought about how Kuwabara had been playing Go for more fifty years-more than half a century-and how he seemed to represent professional Japanese players at a time when those far younger than him, such as Touya's father, had retired.

Go could be a lonely path.

"You must have seen a lot, sensei," Touya said. It was a wonder that he was still around, full of fighting spirit even at his age. He studied Kuwabara himself, noting of the deep wrinkles that covered his face, trying to see the young man that Kuwabara once must have been.

"Che! You're making me feel old," Kuwabara grumbled. "Now, Shindou. That's a boy who respects age, but doesn't expect me to put up with a load of bowing and scraping." He nodded to himself, pleased. "You'd think that his own teacher was even older," he said, then laughed.

Instead of responding to that, Touya picked up his cup and drained the sake, before putting the cup back on the table, so quietly that it made no sound at all.

Immediately the cup was filled. "But sen-"

"You need to drink more," Kuwabara said, pouring for himself at the same time. "It'll make you less uptight, not like that father of yours."

He wasn't Shindou, always disrespectful of his elders, but Touya managed to give the old man a pointed look.

Kuwabara chuckled. "I see it's too late." He picked up his own cup, sipping it slowly.

"I thought I could defeat him," Touya confessed in a small voice, saying for the first time the fear that had formed inside him since the defeat. Kuwabara would sneer and laugh at whatever he said anyway; there was no need to hold back with him.

"Oh?" Kuwabara said, putting down his cup.

Remembering his manners, Touya took the sake flask and filled it, ignoring the small 'ha' of response. He drank his own sake and refilled the cup, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through him. He didn't often drink sake, but it felt inviting right now.

"I thought I had reached his level," Touya said, speaking to the cup rather than to Kuwabara. "Because I had finally managed to become his challenger. But the game only proves what the difference between us is."

"Really."

"It's true."

"Is it?" Kuwabara's tone was so skeptical that Touya couldn't help but look up. "I imagine Shindou said something different."

"He said-" Touya shook his head. "It doesn't count, he only said that because-"

"You're rivals?"

Touya looked down again, staring blankly at the wooden grain of the table. "I don't think I can be a rival for Shindou. Now that I've lost to Ogata-"

"Bullshit."

"What?"

Kuwabara was still shaking his head when Touya finally looked at him. "Is your world so small? Do you really think that Ogata-kun, good as he is, represents all that the Go world has to offer?"

The words stung Touya. "No," he said, but it was on reflex.

"Ogata-kun is flying high. One day, he might actually become as good as he thinks he is," Kuwabara smirked, but then the smirk disappeared as he looked at Touya. He looked sober despite the flush of alcohol in the tip of his nose. "Hasn't meeting Shindou showed you that there is more to the Go world than the pros above you?"

"I-"

"This world that we live in, the Go community, is not just a place of registered pros and title games. That is only the most surface level-the most ostentatious one. It's a world where Go scores and dan-ranking can determine a player's worth, where you defend a title for the sake of the prestige and where someone like Touya Kouyo can attract controversy merely because he wanted to play amateur Go."

The mention of his father made Touya frown. "But my father-"

"Yes, yes," Kuwabara waved off the rest of what Touya was about to say. "A terrible show-off, I've always said. Does a man really need five titles? Doesn't it sound like he's overcompensating for something?"

Outrage burst inside Touya at Kuwabara's snide tone. "Kuwaba-"

"However," Kuwabara interrupted his protest mid-stream, holding up a hand. "He wised up a few years ago."

"Oh." Touya felt deflated somehow.

"The Go world that you judge yourself by is just a scoreboard. You can't analyse games by counting moku. Even eight moku."

For some reason, the dig at his defeat at Ogata's hands didn't sting as much. "Did Shindou say that?"

Kuwabara scowled at him. "Brat. Don't assume that he has a monopoly on all the smart lines."

They didn't speak further and only continued to drink.

(END)