Only Time:

 

How time flies when you are having so much fun

Or perhaps I should say when you are working yourself to the ground.

I am no longer a child now

No longer do I have foolish dreams and thoughts of conquering the world.

I have grown and seasoned with time

My mind and body, no longer as fit or as virile as it used to be.

 

I watch my grandchildren play in the yard

Every now and then one runs up to me with a shiny stone for my viewing pleasure.

 

“Look, papa!” they would cry out. “Look at it, shiny!”

“Ah, yes, it is,” I would respond with a ruffle of their dark locks. “It is as shiny as a…?”

“A Go stone!” they would cry in unison, causing me to laugh softly.

“Yes, it is a Go stone and if you are a the owner of that stone…”

“Then the goban is your universe!” the oldest one responds and I smile softly this time.

He reminds me of myself at that age.

No, he is I at that age.

I see the determination in those green eyes.

The passionate look that comes into them in the presence of a goban and a worthy opponent.

 

He tells me he has finally found a rival

And I can only nod and be grateful for that small mercy.

The boy is too good a player and my late wife had kept telling me that he is just like me.

Hmm…had I really been that conceited with my abilities and talent?

Had I really been that…aloof and cold towards others that I did not deem worthy of me?

Had I been that…alone?

I have watched him on many an occasion as he sits by himself beneath the large sakura tree in the compound, recreating games upon games all on his own.

Sometimes, I feel a fear grow within me as I continue to watch him.

I could swear that there were times when I could see the ghost of a certain rival of mine sitting across him.

Or worse yet, the ghost of someone even greater, sitting before him.

It was the ominous and daunting presence of the one who had beaten me on the fateful so many years ago in my father’s Go salon.

No, the person hadn’t been my rival back then.

It had been someone else.

And I only got to know the truth many, many years later.

 

But he is a good boy and he will grow to be a great man someday.

I hope with the new opponent he has found, that he will get the fulfillment and satisfaction I have finally come to enjoy after all this time.

 

“It’s time for our walk, grandpa!”

 

Ah, yes. Spending time with the children is my new way of passing the time and enjoying the fruits of my labor.

They pull at my hands restlessly. Even he is eager to walk with us today.

One of the children tugs at my now long but gray ponytail and I give a mock sound of pain.

That seems to tickle their funny bones and it makes me feel good too.

We walk along the path that leads to the riverbank.

In the dull stillness of the evening, the falling shadows from the orange sunset

Bathe the lush plants and its environs with color.

It is a beautiful place. One that I had always dreamed of being in at this stage of my life.

The children are one with nature as they frolic and prance about with songs on their lips.

I sigh softly and he walks up to me.

Perhaps he realizes that I am not as happy as I appear to be.

 

I stare into his eyes and I feel that tug of déjà vu again.

It is I!

I have been talking to myself after all this time!

 

“What is wrong, papa?” he asks in bemusement. “You do not look happy.”

“But I am happy,” I refute as I place my hands behind my back and stare at the dull ripples of the river before us. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

From the corner of my eye, I watch him shrug.

 

“Do you miss him?” he asks again and I am amazed at how mature he looks and sounds at the tender age of twelve.

Did I really have no childhood?

I lower my gaze and try to dull the ache that has filled it now.

Do I miss him?

 

“Everyday,” I reply simply.

 

He says nothing, but I can feel the weight of his gaze on me.

I shift restlessly.

It can be a bit disconcerting.

 

“You have a rival now, yes?”

“Yes, grandpa. I do.”

“Cherish him,” I mutter thickly as I feel the heavy sting of unshed tears behind my eyes.

“Cherish…him?” He sounds confused and I don’t blame him for that.

“Yes. Cherish him for as long as you live. He is the only person that can keep you living.”

“Grandpa…”

“Once he’s gone…” I cannot continue for the weight and burden of having to bottle of my emotions inside overwhelm and consume me.

I assume it must be frightening for a child to see a grown man cry, but not to my grandson.

He only moves closer to me, and holds on to my yukata as tightly as he can.

 

Tomorrow, I will be a year older and supposedly wiser

But in my heart, I know that I have stopped living.

I lost someone precious to me on this very day, two years ago in a fateful car accident.

He had been on his way to visit me.

To wish me a happy birthday.

But he never did make it.

I never did see his face again.

Never will…

 

“You’ll see him again,” he suddenly says to me in that same mature voice that never ceases to amaze me.

I stop sobbing long enough to listen.

“He’s waiting somewhere in front of a goban ready to play with you any day, grandpa.”

 

I cannot help smiling at the image and somehow that causes me to wipe the tears away.

I manage a weak smile and place a hand upon his head, my eyes turned towards the heavens in dawning understanding.

 

Are you really up there waiting for me, Shindo?

One more game for the ages? Or perhaps a never-ending game for the rest of our afterlives?

I wouldn’t mind.

No, I wouldn’t mind that at all.

 

Perhaps one day we will meet again, Shindo Hikaru.

And although I lost our very last game on earth together…

 

In the heavens, we can only consider ourselves to be winners…

 

 

 

~THE END~

 

 

Author’s Notes: My original intent had been to write a birthday-themed story with Hikaru and Akira as grown men, perhaps in their thirties or so. However, this vignette just churned out on its own. I figured from the beginning, that both of them would be old men and would be talking about their pasts (which would be a really cool fic to read if anyone tries to attempt it), but see what happened afterward? It ends up being a deathfic…sort of. But it’s a happy one – if that makes any sense. At least I tried to make it sound hopeful and happy at the end. ^^