[Chaegowi]

[answer_key]

Heartbreak

He saw her from across the room. She had a brilliant smile, cherry red lipstick and brilliant brown eyes. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun and she wore a professional skirt, blouse and jacket. To him, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever encountered at a Go event, although that wasn't saying much, she was an exotic beauty. At nineteen he was a relatively young pro, which was becoming increasingly uncommon at that time.

Taking a drink from a paper cup, letting the ice water trickle down his throat, he allowed it to soothe his nerves. Seiji was still a little babyfaced, his suit not quite sitting right as he was still adjusting to wearing one, like many new, young pros. When he looked up, the woman was out of his sight. Mentally, he sighed.

"Excuse me?" A feminine voice lilted from behind him and he turned around to come face to face with the visitor from Argentina, the one with the bright eyes and apparently melodic voice.

Seiji smiled. Her name was Sarita.

*****

Sarita was an exchange student, in Japan to study the culture at the local university, but she also happened to be a professional Go player in Argentina. She had taken a sabbatical to finish her sociology degree because although she loved the game, the opportunities for women there were not nearly as plentiful as they were in Japan. The popularity of Go, she explained, was waning every day. She whistfully sighed and commented that she wished every one of them could come to Japan and immerse themselves in the enthusiasm of one of the original homes of the game.

As she spoke, Seiji found himself staring into her eyes. The rich colours lit up when she spoke of the beloved interest between them and he'd never really met someone so intensely passionate about Go in his life. He found himself tracing the lines of her silhouette with his eyes, watching the way her fingers extended gracefully from her hands as she fidgeted. Was she nervous? That was possible. He could imagine that he may find himself nervous had he gone to a different country and encountered all manners of people in a language not native to his own. He had yet to really travel and he admired the fact that she had come so far out of her comfort zone. He remarked that her accent, though rich and exciting, allowed her to form the words clearly.

"Your Japanese is very good." Seiji offered after a moment.

Sarita threw her head back and laughed. Her eyes lit up brilliantly and he felt her smile warm his chest. He thought she had a dazzling smile. He was no poet, but he could probably wax poetic about it all night long.

With a tantalizing brush of her fingertips along his forearm, Sarita had to excuse herself from the event. He had stared after her, the shiver traveling the length of his spine. Before he knew what he was doing, Seiji was running after her, chasing her from the room and toward the elevator. He caught her by the elbow and looked her in the eyes.

No words were spoken.

*****

Sarita's hotel room was on the seventh floor of one of the many high-rise buildings in Tokyo. It would have been more prudent for her to rent an apartment, but it would have been difficult to manage from Argentina. She had made the arrangements with the hotel months before her feet hit Japanese soil.

Few words had been exchanged from the moment he'd come after her, through their shared cab ride and now that she was leading him purposefully up another set of stairs. Seiji didn't care that the elevator wasn't available, he had plenty of energy to launch himself up flight after flight of stairs. When they reached the top, he opened the door for her. Her warm smile made it worth it.

She took the lead, sliding her long, sleek fingers into his hand and lacing them with his. It wasn't more than a minute or two before they reached the door of her hotel room. He could feel his heart pound with anticipation as she slid her key into the lock and turned it, opening the door to a neat and orderly room.

Seiji stepped in with her and slid his arm around the small of her back, leaning down to kiss her deeply. Once again she laughed at him, but allowed the kiss. He remembered she tasted of green tea and a flavour distinctly her own. Not that he had kissed many women or any at all really, but somehow he knew that's what it was like.

When her tongue brushed his lips, he groaned, parting them willingly. The heat from the kiss shot through his chest southbound and he responded by upping the intensity, pressing her back to the wall. He heard her sigh, felt her breast heave under his clumsy fingers. He groped for her chest, inexperienced and awkward. When she'd had enough of that, her hands reached for his instead, guiding him. Teaching him wordlessly where to place his hands, stroking his fingers when he got too rough or enthusiastic.

It wasn't very long before she pushed at his shoulders gently to catch his attention. He pulled away from her, lips swollen, breath coming in gasps. Sarita responded by raising her arms and undoing her long black hair from the bun atop her head. She carefully unbuttoned her blouse.

Seiji was transfixed, watching every inch of skin she allowed to be exposed, the way her chest rose and fell with every breath. Her skin was smooth, a testament to her youth certainly and she dropped her jacket and blouse over a chair. She gave him a coy smile and unbuttoned her skirt.

"Aren't you going to join me?"

He didn't need to be told twice. He was wrenching undone his tie, pulling his own button down over his shirt and fiddling with the button on his pants. By the time they were pooled on the floor at his feet she was standing there with her hands on her hips, eyes alight with laughter in just her undergarments. She wasn't the least bit shy as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, dropping it on the floor.

Seiji however, couldn't fight the blush. He hadn't been in this situation before with a beautiful woman just allowing him to be with her. Certainly he'd kissed a few girls in his time in school but he'd never gotten anywhere and they were nothing like this vibrant woman.

She closed the distance between them, licking her lips before pulling him into another kiss. She smiled into the kiss as she trailed her fingers along his chest and stomach and into his underwear. The noise he made when she grasped his shaft made her lean over and whisper into his ear. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

He shivered and allowed her to pull him onto the bed after she'd removed her panties. He let her push his underpants down and he squirmed out of them. Panting lightly, he hovered over her, kissing her again and again, light kisses trailing along her jawline. She ran fingers through his hair, a hand down his back to encourage him. In between kisses, he settled himself between her thighs and when his lips met hers he thrust into her in one go.

Beneath him, she shivered and tensed momentarily, letting out a little sigh. Seiji didn't mind much, he pulled back and began to thrust. He set a pace that was quick to begin with, but it became frantic near the end as his movements turned erratic. He groaned and pressed into her finally, releasing. It hadn't been very long at all and she looked a little bit disappointed when he collapsed upon her. She brought her fingers up to smoothe some of the hair out of his eyes.

"Like this." She said and moved his hand between her legs.

Seiji discovered a different kind of pleasure, the kind that came from making his partner sing.

*****

He had left her apartment that night a completely changed man. Seiji had experienced something wonderful and he wanted to do it again. Sarita was enchanting and he really thought he could spend more time with her, having sex and maybe even turning it into a relationship.

When he returned home, he found his cheer depleated as he was subjected to a round of twenty questions from his parents and when he'd finally reached his breaking point, he vowed from that moment on that he needed to find his own apartment. There was no way he could enter in an adult relationship with this woman if he was still living at home.

From the wide eyes his mother developed, the graceful hand over her lips and his father's glare he knew he had caught them by surprise in declaring in a fit of defiance that he was moving out.

Seiji never looked back.

*****

His first apartment was a somewhat forgotten hole in the wall which was evident by actual holes in the wall. The bathroom was small and cramped, there was no bath tub but just a shower and the kitchen was a hot plate and little else. It was perfect.

She had giggled when he brought her there, more at his pride than anything and she just gave him a flirty smile or two before helping him christen each room that weekend.

On Sunday night, he lay with her on his futon, his fingers idly stroking patterns on her stomach. He leaned over and kissed her neck lightly while she lay there, reading Go Weekly. Sarita tolerated it for a few moments until he reached her lips and she turned her attention from the magazine to him.

"Mm. Won't you play a game with me?" She asked instead.

"Of course." His voice was husky, a little uneven because he'd been working himself up but obediently he got up and pulled out the goban. He gifted her with black and the game began in earnest.

It seemed far more intimate than sex, the way her long nimble fingers that had hours ago been touching him were diving into the go-ke and pulling out a single stone. When she was thinking, she ran the edge of the stone along the outline of her lips, the dip of her chin and if it was a particularly challenging move, she tapped it against her teeth. She would extend her hand gracefully and put down the stone with enough power to make the ground beneath him tremble. Her eyes were hard as honed steel, her concentration seemed paramount. He was finding it much more difficult to perform, distracted by the bead of sweat trickling from the dip in her throat to her breasts, the way her hair accentuated her features and moved when her arms did.

The loss was humiliating. Sarita leaned across the board and pat his upper arm. "Well, you'll get better."

*****

A month later, he encountered Sarita in an official capacity at the Institute. She offered him a small smile and a wave but nothing more. The kind of touches he longed for, the stolen kisses in the dark had no place at work. She maintained a completely cool, professional distance from him out in public.

Seiji couldn't understand how she did it. Inside he was a wreck, a bundle of nerves waiting to burst into flames, butterflies flitting about his stomach as he spoke to her as though anyone would be able to tell what they had been up to together in their spare time. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone and considering she was well into her twenties, he understood how it might look, courting a man younger than herself. He never questioned it, discretion was of course a natural response to an illicit affair.

There was nothing more detrimental to his game than Sarita, but he couldn't bring it within himself to care. He'd been skating by on a poor record all month but this tournament was public. He knew people wondered what happened, he'd heard the talk and seen the gossip wondering if he'd finally fizzled out, burnt out from a strong showing at the beginning.

No, he thought, I'm finally alive.

Seiji just needed to balance his passion for Sarita with his passion for Go because she seemed to be winning every single time. As he played another shodan in this tournament, he found it was easy to catch sight of her. Those same steely eyes, the graceful but powerful movements that let him know that she was taking her opponent seriously. He caught her tilting her head, stretching her neck out carefully as the game dragged on too long. Each misstep he made was an advantage to his opponent and it ended in a loss that was far too humiliating, a loss of nine and a half moku.

The loss was soul-crushing, humiliating and it was going to forever be on record. He should have conceeded long before yose, but he'd been too distracted to make much of a showing. He raised his head after the game to see Sarita coming his way, walking to the table with her usual grace and beauty. He admired the way her hips moved and sashayed as she navigated the crowd with ease.

"That was a wonderful game you know." She giggled and tossed her head before brushing her fingertips along his opponent's shoulder.

"Sarita..." Seiji began, but he quieted when he received a furrowed brow and a disappointed look sent his way.

*****

"It was sloppy."

"You should still be supporting me, I mean, I'm your boyfriend. I love you!" Seiji exploded.

Sarita was quiet, her eyes downcast as she processed his outburst.

"It was a terrible game. What is wrong with you? Your game has completely suffered, it's nothing like your kifu used to be." She shot back instead, her words dripping with venom.

"Don't be like that, I'm getting better. I will get better, I promise. Just give me a chance to prove it to you. Please." Seiji pleaded, reaching for her to brush a stray strand of hair from the back of her neck.

"I think you should." She answered coolly before turning on her heel and walking away from him.

******

Sarita spent less time at his apartment after that, she refused to come before nightfall and she no longer spent the night. She continued to teach him, to guide his hands where she liked them, making soft encouraging noises when he got something right and merely sighed when he didn't. He didn't seem to have the right touch, his hands were still clumsy even after three months of practicing sexual encounters, he still couldn't make her come without instruction.

It was grating and annoying. At first the sex had been okay but it was wearing on her now, his ineptitude and inability to pick up on the experience he should be getting. She didn't tell him anything though, she spoke to him only through her moans and sighs, guiding hands and her continuous return to his apartment.

Every time she appeared, Seiji found himself smiling just a little brighter, getting excited and feeling that flutter in his chest that he'd attributed to lovesickness. That was what it had to be after all it made sense the way they fit together so well, the way they tussled around in bed and he felt like he needed to worship her all the time.

He greeted her that evening with a deep kiss, closing the door and shutting the world out as he embraced her. Sarita smiled as he took the initiative to peel her clothes off at her one article at a time, carefully moving to nibble at her collarbone or up to lick her earlobe.

She sighed, she always had the most beautiful sighs escaping her lips whenever they were together. Adorable little moans and breathy words of encouragement. Once he had her naked and he stripped, he tugged her to the futon by the hand. They joined together once more in a fit of passion and when they were finished he kissed at her neck, holding her in his arms.

"My term is coming to an end, Seiji." Sarita began after a few minutes of quiet.

"What does that mean then?"

"It means I need to go back to Argentina next week." She could feel his arms tighten around her protectively as a response.

"You don't have to go."

Again, Sarita sighed. "Yes. I do."

"No, you don't. I can marry you. We'll get engaged and start a life together." Seiji said enthusiastically, sitting up to share his brilliant optimism with her, looking into her eyes. All he found there was something he couldn't identify. She didn't laugh, she didn't smile and she looked a little annoyed at him.

"I'm not interested in that. I have to go home in a few days."

"That's what I'm telling you. You don't need to. I'll take care of you."

Sarita turned on him in that moment. Her eyes turned to steel, her tongue lashed at him with all the bite of a rabid dog. "With your rankings? I don't think so. Your game might have been promising once but right now it's completely abysmal."

"I can get better, I'm sure next month I will-"

"No Seiji. This isn't open for discussion." Her tone turned icy as she sat up herself, moving to get up from the futon.

He watched her, completely at a loss for words as she pulled her underwear over her hips, followed by her pants and blouse. It wasn't until she was dressed that he was able to make his mouth work.

"Sarita. I love you."

She didn't say anything for a moment, bending down to retrieve her purse and she slung it over her shoulder before walking to the door. She paused in the doorway for a moment, looking back at that stupid, young optimistic face before she left her parting shot.

"Well, I don't love you."

As the door slammed shut behind her, his heart fell to pieces.

*****

He would be ashamed to admit that the door closing sounded so final and the sobs that were ripped from his throat filled the apartment, pushing the laughter and joy into the corners and leaving him miserable, broken and alone.

He got to his feet and stumbled through tears to the kitchen, pulling a beer out of the fridge. The cold beer was a shock to his system. It didn't stem the flow of tears but it did slowly, but surely, elevate his spirits temporarily. Soon his body felt light, his spirit less broken as he sat on the sofa, head lolling on the arm of the chair.

"Sarita..." He moaned. "Why did you leave me? We're so perfect together!"

As he drank he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, something gnawing at him. Maybe Sarita wasn't so perfect. Maybe she really didn't love him like she said. Hadn't she been obsessed with his records? Hadn't she wanted to play with him once and never did again? Why did she keep sleeping with him then?

Seiji swallowed thickly, looking up at the ceiling through bleary eyes. He'd loved her, wholly and completely and she had just thrown it back in his face. He genuinely felt like she had been using him, perhaps seeking comfort from him in a foreign land.

The next beer, all these thoughts left his mind as a haze took over, a numbing haze that made everything feel just a little bit better.

*****

The momentary blissful numbness came down with a crash when the sunlight woke him up a week later. Someone was actively stabbing him in the head, every creak and noise from the people above him in the apartment shook him to the core. He let out a broken sob, the memory of her crushing parting coming back all at once. "Sarita-urk."

His stomach revolted suddenly and he found himself in the worst apartment he'd ever seen, a mess to clean up and he lay there one broken man.

Seiji was disgusted with himself. Was this who he wanted to be all his life? Some pathetic guy wallowing in self pity, drunk off his ass and tanking his career as he lay there doing nothing at all?

He rolled off the sofa and went to clean up first of all. He glanced at the calendar and realized it had been a week since Sarita left, she'd gone on to the airport by now, back to South America. He would never win her back being pathetic.

Once every inch of him and his apartment was clean, he played back his voicemails. Several were from the Institute, reprimands for missing games and there were two from his parents, concerned he hadn't called them back in a timely fashion. He didn't want to know what his father would say about the pathetic blubbering mess he'd become.

Worst of all, Sarita had left him, flying off to Argentina without so much as a phone call to say goodbye. When he closed his eyes all he could hear was the door slamming, her venomous words and the sound of his heart being crushed into a thousand broken shards. He didn't know how he was going to face the world, he didn't know how he'd gotten to the place he was and in fact, he wasn't even sure what he should do going forward. His career was in the toilet and his apartment was a shithole...it seemed like a lot to come back from. It would be much easier just to grab another bottle and hide away from the world.

Seiji opened his fridge and was dismayed to find that he didn't have any beer left, nor did he have any sake. That meant he would have to go out. He didn't think twice, he grabbed his jacket and hightailed it out of the apartment.

*****

He could have purchased some beer or liquor at the store but instead he found himself walking around, lost in thoughts. There was the place he took Sarita to eat that one time and she wound up with a noodle on her chin. There was the bench he'd kissed her in public before she'd put a stop to it all.

It was a depressing stroll through memory lane, and yet Seiji didn't want to go home. The memories there were stronger. He clear as a bell laugher, her melodic voice humming in the shower and the way her hair framed her breasts when she was sitting and didn't know he was watching her. He had it bad and she was the cause of it all. He'd thought her an angel, someone who could do no wrong. He had no idea what kind of viper lay beneath the mirage, no idea the bite that she could have. He never knew his chest could hurt so much.

What he did find was a bar that happened to be ready to open. He entered and offered an ID card before he was served. It wasn't real of course, he wasn't twenty just yet but they didn't need to know that. He sat quietly nursing the beer, staring at the bar top.

He was well into his second one when he heard a distinct chirping laugh behind him. "Well well, aren't you Seiji Ogata? Little early in the day for you to be here drinking."

The old man maneuvred himself onto a bar stool next to him. Seiji turned his gaze and stared. He was ancient. There was no way he didn't know who it was. "Kuwabara-sensei!" Heat rushed to his cheeks, he felt filled with shame and remorse.

"Well I won't tell if you don't." He winked and ordered a sake.

Seiji's heart was pounding in his ears, what was this man doing here? He was particularly ancient, it probably wasn't safe for him to go around drinking. He wasn't even sure what he should say to the man, or if he wanted conversation or what. He'd never encountered any of the top tier professionals, not yet. He was just a shodan after all.

Kuwabara didn't take offense to his shell-shocked staring. He was a shodan, a young one at that. It wasn't all that unusual. However, he did revel in that sort of attention. He chuckled again. "You know boy, you showed such promise when you passed the pro exam. You shouldn't let things get to you."

He drank his sake in one experienced gulp and set the cup back down before plunking some yen on the bar.

"I expect great things from you. I hope you'll come to me soon. I am terribly bored without a challenger." He put his hands behind his back and began to walk to the door.

"What if I can't...?" Seiji asked, staring after him blearily as though he was dreaming the entire encounter.

"You can and you will, but I'll tell you now I'm not giving up my seat without a fight." Kuwabara's expression was serious, that sharp fighting spirit in his eyes for a fleeting moment before he chortled. "You know, I think Touya Kouyo's running a study group with an open spot."

Just like a mysterious apparition, Kuwabara left the bar as though he'd never been there to begin with, giving Seiji a lot of information to chew on.

Wait. Touya Kouyo was running a study group and accepting students? His eyes widened and he put the bottle of beer back down on the bar suddenly. "I need to settle up!"

*****

Sarita was terribly obvious. Seiji caught sight of her the next afternoon on his way to the Institute to sign up for the study session. The way she shook her hips, the way she wore her beautiful hair and the enchanting smile she flashed at the young man across from her at the table.

She had been seeing someone behind his back. He felt a tightness in his chest. She'd lied to him about leaving to get rid of him, to cut him out of her life. He stood on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets as he peered at her and her date through the window. She still wore the same cherry red lipstick, had the same soulful eyes and lit up when she laughed, only none of it was for him. Not anymore.

She laced her fingers with her date's hand on the table and it became obvious that she was sporting a brand new ring. No wonder she hadn't wanted to marry him, he thought. She had someone she loved. He wondered if the man knew she'd been sleeping with him all this time. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and raised it, tempted to knock on the glass.

Sarita smiled and sent a loving gaze towards the man she as with.

Seiji's fist crumbled in that moment and he stuck his hand back into his pocket, turning his back on her and walking away from her forever.

*****

Seiji took a deep breath and ran his hands down the sides of his pants. He'd put on a white suit he purchased, he decided he would make that his look. On a whim, during the walk to the Touya home he picked up a pack of cigarettes and he had one precariously perched on his lips, unlit. He wasn't sure if it was a habit he wanted to pick up but his stomach was doing somersaults.

He took the plunge at last, stopping his stride to light it. The first inhale made him cough and sputter, but the second made him feel better. Calm. Like he was doing something and in control. He would need that calm if he was going to walk into the Meijin's study session.

He was long finished the cigarette before he made it to the Touya home and he knocked. It took a moment for the door to open but he was greeted with Akiko's smiling face.

"Hello there, welcome to our home." She smiled brightly.

"Thank you." He said and stepped inside. He looked down to step out of his shoes and noticed the little hand firmly attached to his mother's skirt. He leaned forward, head tilting sideways as he sought out the one the hand belonged to.

"Oh, that's our son Akira. He's a little shy, but once the session starts it will be fine. If you'll follow me, I'll lead you to our Go room." Akiko said kindly before leading the way.

Akira never let go of his mother's skirt the entire escort trip. When Seiji crossed the threshold, Touya Kyouo looked up at him from his goban and nodded. "Please take a seat where you like. We're going to begin now."

All at once in a flurry of child-like energy, Akira shot like a little bolt to his father's side to claim his place on his father's lap.

Seiji's eyes widened as he watched the toddler settle down to listen to the pros talk about everything that was important about recent games and strategy and all at once he felt as though he were looking into the future. There would be a time when that child would come after him.

He could not afford to stay the way he was, he could not afford to tank his career over a girl. He had worked hard for this, studied hours and hours for a career that would be unforgiving. Seiji Ogata needed to be there to stand in Touya Akira's way, otherwise he wouldn't matter when the history books were written.

Seiji reached up and pushed up his glasses, resolving then to devote himself fully to his craft because there was not a chance that the toddler sitting on his father's knee was ever going to beat him. That was a promise.

Comments

[qem_chibati]

Ahhh, poor Ogata, first love and heartbreak. This feels realistic as back story to how he became the driven white suited go dork we see today. My favourite parts were the way Kuwabara cheekily gave him answers to turn things around promise at the end that even if he's raised with go stones as teething ring there is no chance that toddler will ever beat him. (Haha, I'm sure that promise will be keeping Ogata very busy post series!)

[phnx]

His first apartment was a somewhat forgotten hole in the wall which was evident by actual holes in the wall.

I'm sorry, but that line was perfect. PERFECT. <3

This is a really interesting take on Ogata's motivations for being so... uh... Ogata-y, haha.