But even with all these mementos, Hikaru could not deny that Sai was slowly fading away in his memories, as if God had decided Hikaru had wasted enough time with the ghost and started to erase every single trace of him in existence.

One fine morning, Hikaru woke up and discovered, to his sudden shock, that Sai’s kifu was all that he had left of him. He couldn’t remember Sai’s voice. He couldn’t remember what Sai looked like.

The 18-year-old scrambled out of bed to find a piece of paper and proceeded to sketch Sai from his faded memory. Unfortunately, like his handwriting, his artistic skills were equally atrocious.

After much scratching out, erasing, frustrated tearing of his hair, and ignoring his mother’s patient calls for breakfast (she eventually gave up and gave his breakfast to his father so Hikaru suffered dry toast), the bleached-bang boy finally scratched out what he thought Sai looked like.

Not known for his patience, except during a go-games that mattered, Hikaru was known for his skill in speed go when playing weaker opponents. It is not that surprising the sketch turned out like a five-year old with his first crayon. An impatient five-year old at that.

The ‘Sai’ in the sketch was a stick figure with a big head holding a paper fan in his over-sized, four-fingered hands. Sai had longish hair, Hikaru couldn’t remember how long so he decided on a mid-length and a standard oval shape that was skewed by Hikaru’s attempts to make it symmetrical, Sai had ended up with a chubbier check on his right and two ears that looked too large for him, sticking out comically like Dumbo’s.

There seemed to be something missing.

Hikaru gazed at the sketch trying to figure out what, but Sai looked what he thought a ‘Sai’ looked like.

Maybe it was his drawing skills.

Maybe Sai didn’t have big ears.

So he tore off another piece of paper and tried again.

Maybe Sai had short hair.

Hikaru drew that.

Maybe Sai wore his hair in a ponytail.

Hikaru drew that too.

Maybe Sai was bald.

Hikaru drew that as well.

Maybe Sai had bangs like him and wore his hair in braids.

Hikaru drew that also.

Maybe Sai had curly hair.

Hikaru soon had twenty-five different Sai’s scattered on his desk and his mother bellowing about the time and his upcoming match.

Frowning to himself, he gathered the artwork and taped them on the wall before heading for a shower. He wouldn’t be too late if he ran all the way to the station.

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A week of staring at badly drawn sketches eventually persuaded Hikaru that Sai had long hair. Except for the bald and short hair version, Sai had long hair for the other twenty-three sketches. So that’s two versus twenty-three. That meant a bigger possibility of getting it right…right?

Thus decided, Hikaru announced happily that he was going to grow his hair out at the monthly family dinner. He had heard that imitation is the form of the highest honor. Kind of like the popular trend of fans try to imitate their pop idol’s pink locks, boisterous attitude and loud voice. And how the cos-players love going around in the sweltering, stifling, summer heat in their long, dark trench coats, fake silver wigs and dragging a seven-foot sword behind them.

Sai was his idol and mentor, in a way. Sai deserved no less. Plus, it would be his chance to scream out to God, if he was listening, that Hikaru had no intention of forgetting Sai anytime soon.

His parents responded as he expected. His father choked on his food and muttered something about a late rebellious teen behavior. His mother sat in shock with her fingers clutching a bowl of rice until it finally dropped into her soup. His grandfather simply looked at him and as if deciding that Hikaru’s go skills wouldn’t be affected, asked to play a game after dinner.

But Hikaru decided he was on the right path. He would make God realize that just because he sent Sai away, it doesn’t mean that he died. As long as Hikaru was alive, Sai would also be alive. All he had to do was wait.

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Two months later, Hikaru had a flash of insight, a missing piece to Sai’s visage that suddenly struck him whilst he was on the train to meet up with Waya and Isumi. Sai had his ears pierced. Hikaru was sure of it, looking at the long-haired woman standing next to him on the train, with pearly white studs that looked like white go pieces. He was sure Sai had earrings like those.

On his way to the go salon, Hikaru had his ears pierced with a white stud in his right and a black stud in his left. Of course that made him a little late but Waya seemed to have forgotten his tardiness after he offered to buy them lunch. It was ramen, much to Waya’s chagrin.

Though Hikaru didn’t know it at that time, his minor change was only the start of major changes.

And that night, after their monthly family dinner, Hikaru flashed a bright smile of triumph to his parents and showed them his latest finding in his search for Sai’s forgotten face. His father glanced at him once before muttering something about the new generation of popular pretty boys, and how he had once mistaken a teenage boy as a girl. His mother froze in shock, holding a tea tray until the tea turned cold and the apples turned a golden brown. His grandfather just shrugged and asked for another go game and why Hikaru had go pieces stuck to his ears.

And during Hikaru’s next game, he wondered if Sai pierced his ears so it acted as a psychological attack on his opponents who kept blushing and stuttering whenever Hikaru swept a hand over his errant bangs and just past shoulder-length hair, flashing the tiny studs adorned on his ears.

And Hikaru questioned Touya why he avoided him in the hallways and gave excuses to leave early each time they played in his father’s go salon. To which the go-genius burned red and gave an excuse that Hikaru couldn’t understand. When he asked Waya and Isumi, they gave him an long, odd look and wondered aloud whether Hikaru was born denser than concrete.

But Hikaru decided he was on the right path. He would make them see Sai in their minds and know that when they lost to him, they lost to Sai, even if they didn’t know they were actually doing it. All he had to do was wait.

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Half a year later, Hikaru had an epiphany. It was during history class and he wondered why he never thought of it before. There was no bleach in the Hein period. Perhaps Waya and Isumi were right in calling him dense. So he redyed his hair black, for the first time since he turned nine.

On his way back from the hair salon, he met up with Waya in the shopping district and greeted him, who stared at him suspiciously before his mouth dropped open and asked what the hell was Hikaru thinking and whether he was imitating Touya, the insufferable brat.

Though Hikaru didn’t know it then, but practically everyone he knew had wondered if Hikaru had been playing Touya so much, he had unconsciously copied his rival’s traditional, stiff attire and dislike of all things punk and casual. Hikaru, out of frustration, had yelled out that he wasn’t copying Touya. Why would he want to copy someone who’s obviously colour-blind?

During the next monthly family dinner, his father asked Hikaru if he was planning to stay the night and whether he was Hikaru’s friend and where the hell his son was. His mother, the only one who recognized him, stared with her mouth open, and asked if Hikaru was feeling sick and whether some ghost possessed him. His grandfather chuckled and said that if Hikaru was possessed; he wouldn’t be playing go with him like he always did. Afterall, what do ghosts know of go?

And Hikaru wondered if Sai liked having long hair hanging down his face in one color, and whether Sai sometimes tied them back in the summer heat, or left it down to flutter in the autumn breeze only to brush them back with one hand as he waited for his opponent’s next move. Perhaps in Sai’s time, his adversary would act the same as Hikaru’s, sitting across sometimes faltering and making careless mistakes when he would smile his Mona-Lisa smile just before they placed their stones.

And Hikaru told Touya he was glad his rival was friendlier now and questioned why he was glaring at everyone else greeting him in the hallway. Touya stuttered out an incompressible answer and stomped off in the other direction like an angered dragon, leaving Hikaru blinking bewildered in the hallway.

But Hikaru decided he was on the right path. He would inspire awe and wonder in his opponents and know that they were playing go in the presence of Sai, even though they didn’t really know it. All he had to do was wait.

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A year later, Hikaru threw twenty-five hideous sketches of Sai’s visage into the trash bin. After a year, he decided Sai wouldn’t like Hikaru screwing up his image and that looking like Sai was more trouble than he thought.

On his way back home from the go salon, he had been followed by a gaggle of giggling schoolgirls, who didn’t even seem to hide the fact that they were stalking him. They kept blushing when he turned, long hair sweeping, bangs fluttering in the wind, to glare menacingly at them. They tittered like hyenas. Hikaru decided to ignore them and tried to run to the train station.

Though Hikaru didn’t know it then, he was lucky the girls didn’t catch his train, much to their disappointment. To his delight, Waya and Isumi were also on his train. Between the both of them, Hikaru managed to escape mostly intact from the clawing grasp of another newly-formed fangirls during the fifteen-minute train ride. Mostly intact because Hikaru was sure his behind was bruised from all pinching from God-knows-where.

And on Hikaru’s good days, he only got mistaken as a girl once, usually by a horny, male teenager looking for a good time. On Hikaru’s bad days, it would be several horny, male teenagers looking for a good time. On extra bad days, it would that same ugly carrot-top, gangster teenager who just wouldn’t stop stalking him. Hikaru wondered if Sai ever had this problem and whether he’d dealt with it with a nice, clean swipe of his blade, or perhaps pepper them with go stones.

During the next family dinner, his father had came back after a month-long business trip and asked Hikaru whether he was his son’s fiancé and where the hell is his son. His mother choked on her rice at the comment before asking Hikaru what he planned to do with those people who kept calling his house asking for him, something about photoshoots and reporters. His grandfather smiled in a senile way and quipped up that it was too sad that Hikaru was too busy to play go with him nowadays, but he was glad that his new granddaughter was a go pro and could they possibly play a game after dinner?

And Hikaru wondered whether Sai won all his games by default and whether it was true that female go-players were weaker in their resolve, hence making them weaker opponents. Hikaru tried to smile reassuringly at them, a soft pink curve of a mouth, and told them not to hold back on him, before bowing and sweeping his hands casually through his hair. But they would lose their resolve every time before entering yose, claiming to be feeling dizzy or sick with a cold, holding a tissue to their noses before rushing out. The male go-players fared a little better, although they always seem to be afflicted with a permanent pink rash on their cheeks.

And when Hikaru asked Waya and Isumi they goggled at him and told him if he couldn’t figure it out himself, then Hikaru really is hopeless in everything except go. To which an indignant Hikaru would turn his back to them and stomp off in search of Touya.

And Hikaru always seem to find Touya on his Touya-radar. And his Touya-induced smile would always be enough to send Touya willingly into a ramen stand, have him pay for it, and agree to a go match later on that day. Although he still couldn’t figure out why Touya kept glaring at everyone around him, even Ogata-jyudan, which would send the man smirking.

But Hikaru decided he was on the right path. Sure, he didn’t get an answer from God or even a dream from Sai to indicate he’d been doing the right thing, but he never expected to get one anyway. Sure, he didn’t make the others see Sai through him, everyone seems to have forgotten his existence even on the netgo. Sure, he didn’t inspire awe and wonder through his go skills, everyone seems to be more interested on what he will be doing after the game instead of in the game.

But still it was free ramen and Touya now seems to be chasing him instead of the other way around.

That had to be a good thing right? Maybe he’d stick around being like Sai a bit more.

At least until that new wasabi-miso ramen came out…

END