![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sub_dividedA million years ago ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
svz_insanity requested AkiHika. But, umm, this isn't it. It's gen. Focus on Go, about which I know nothing. But hey! ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days! Except I'm not crossposting because it's underdeveloped and I don't like it very much.
EDIT somewhat expanded, thanks guys!
Series: Hikaru no Go
Genre: chracterization-through-board-game
Summary: white VS black
31_days: 10 August "Way of Difference"
In the old days it was “Akira, always ahead.” It wasn't that he was invincible: he was only particularly good at precise plays designed to maintain and enhance an early lead. (Emphasizing your innate superiority, Shindou said once. You can be really vicious sometimes, you know that?) His record balanced evenly – seven tournaments, 43 wins playing black and 38 playing white – but, as he'd privately admitted, he preferred black.
As in all things, Shindou was the opposite.
“White again?” Akira asked. “Shouldn’t you try to play more evenly? Your tournaments wins are lopsided, too.” He stared intently at Shindou, his fingers folded neatly in his lap. They'd been given a table in the further corner of the salon at his request; an odd bend in the wall meant he could brush the wall with both sets of fingers if he stretched his arms out all the way. The setting wouldn't matter when the game started -- in semi-privacy or on a pedastal in the middle of Shinjuku, the world fell away when he played Shindou. But that wouldn't stop the other patrons from noticing them, and Akira was nothing if not considerate.
“I prefer white,” Shindou said defensively. “I can attack more freely from behind. And there’s a psychological advantage in coming back.” He reached for the go-ke as he spoke.
Akira caught sight of the counter over his left shoulder, where the regulars were already placing bets. On what, he did not care to speculate. Swatting Shindou's hand away, he took the stones for himself. “It’s a weakness,” he decided. “From now on, you play black against me.”
Shindou was indignant. “Save the coach act for your students! Besides” - he leveled his fan, a superior gleam in his eyes – “look who’s talking!”
He can't remember names for the most basic of standard formations, Akira thought, but he remembers something I mentioned once, offhand, over a year ago. And uses it against me. Akira put the stones on the floor, where Shindou couldn’t get at them, and leaned forward with his hands braced against the table, staring Hikaru down over the length of his extended arm.
“So it will be good for both of us!” he said, determined to glare until Shindou saw reason.
Shindou blinked, retracted his arm. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was strange. “Huh. Okay, then.”
And just like that, they resumed.
It later occurred to Akira that their old play styles had mirrored their old relationship. What did it mean, then, that Shindou now lead as often as followed?
END
*crawls under a rock and dies*
svz_insanity requested AkiHika. But, umm, this isn't it. It's gen. Focus on Go, about which I know nothing. But hey! 31_days! Except I'm not crossposting because it's underdeveloped and I don't like it very much. EDIT somewhat expanded, thanks guys!
Series: Hikaru no Go
Genre: chracterization-through-board-game
Summary: white VS black
31_days: 10 August "Way of Difference"In the old days it was “Akira, always ahead.” It wasn't that he was invincible: he was only particularly good at precise plays designed to maintain and enhance an early lead. (Emphasizing your innate superiority, Shindou said once. You can be really vicious sometimes, you know that?) His record balanced evenly – seven tournaments, 43 wins playing black and 38 playing white – but, as he'd privately admitted, he preferred black.
As in all things, Shindou was the opposite.
“White again?” Akira asked. “Shouldn’t you try to play more evenly? Your tournaments wins are lopsided, too.” He stared intently at Shindou, his fingers folded neatly in his lap. They'd been given a table in the further corner of the salon at his request; an odd bend in the wall meant he could brush the wall with both sets of fingers if he stretched his arms out all the way. The setting wouldn't matter when the game started -- in semi-privacy or on a pedastal in the middle of Shinjuku, the world fell away when he played Shindou. But that wouldn't stop the other patrons from noticing them, and Akira was nothing if not considerate.
“I prefer white,” Shindou said defensively. “I can attack more freely from behind. And there’s a psychological advantage in coming back.” He reached for the go-ke as he spoke.
Akira caught sight of the counter over his left shoulder, where the regulars were already placing bets. On what, he did not care to speculate. Swatting Shindou's hand away, he took the stones for himself. “It’s a weakness,” he decided. “From now on, you play black against me.”
Shindou was indignant. “Save the coach act for your students! Besides” - he leveled his fan, a superior gleam in his eyes – “look who’s talking!”
He can't remember names for the most basic of standard formations, Akira thought, but he remembers something I mentioned once, offhand, over a year ago. And uses it against me. Akira put the stones on the floor, where Shindou couldn’t get at them, and leaned forward with his hands braced against the table, staring Hikaru down over the length of his extended arm.
“So it will be good for both of us!” he said, determined to glare until Shindou saw reason.
Shindou blinked, retracted his arm. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again his voice was strange. “Huh. Okay, then.”
And just like that, they resumed.
It later occurred to Akira that their old play styles had mirrored their old relationship. What did it mean, then, that Shindou now lead as often as followed?
END
*crawls under a rock and dies*