The air is utterly still with no hint of a breeze to cool or distract me from my objective.  I can see him clearly across the battlefield.  Standing before me with a half smile upon his lips, he nods to me.  He is ready, no, eager for the battle to begin.  And so am I.

We bow to each other, and then step onto the field.  He draws his katana and I unsheathe mine as well.  This will not be a quick engagement with one of us the easy victor.  We circle each other warily; eyes open for any weakness.  For the moment, I see nothing.  His form is perfect.  His motions belie his youth.  Unbidden, memories of our first encounter intrude into my consciousness, but then I force the thoughts away.  I do not have time for reminiscing.  I have a battle to fight, and I mean to win!

Minutes pass and I decide to bring this battle to a head.  I close the distance between us, raising my sword for an overhead attack.  He brings his weapon up for the block.  I smile at him from between our crossed blades.  Metal screeches against metal and my arms begin to shake.  He smiles back and inclines his head in a brief nod.  At his signal, I leap backwards out of reach as he does the same.

His eyes tighten and I ready myself for a counter attack.  He rushes at me, his sword held perpendicular to his body.  At the last minute, he brings his weapon up to try to wound my side.  I avoid his clumsy attack easily, but I am wary.  He rarely makes such obvious moves.  I whirl around just in time to block an attack on my other flank.  So I was right, the first attack was a feint meant to distract me.  It almost worked too, but I know him better than any other.  I know he is famous for turning seemingly clumsy moves into decisive attacks meant to slip past his opponent’s defenses.

I can see a momentary glimpse of frustration that I did not fall into his trap, before his features once again school themselves to reveal nothing.  I want to compliment him, but I know it will do no good.  His feint unsuccessful, he unleashes a series of blows designed to force me into making a mistake he can exploit.  I block his attacks again and again.  His sword never stops moving, flashing with some inner light he pushes at me relentlessly.  The blade darts toward my faces and I barely have time to react.  There is no time to raise my weapon, so I dodge.  I feel the cool metal slide through my hair as it passes and I gasp.

That was too close!

I know that I can no longer let him have the offensive.  I twist on the ball of my foot and aim an attack at his head.  He ducks under my blade, thrusting up with his own.  I leap back and feel my balance falter for just a second.  I am getting tired, but I am determined not to let my fatigue hinder me.  Once again we circle each other, this time with katanas whirling.  Sparks fly as steel meets steel.  Our swords cross and I can feel my muscles straining against his.  He inclines his head, motioning that he is willing to pause in our battle.  I nod.  I could use a rest.

We are both breathing hard and by mutual agreement we step away from each other, lowering our swords.  It has been too long since I have had a battle this satisfying.  I try not to think of when, but the memory surfaces anyway.  A memory from two years ago, when I battled a faceless opponent across another empty plain.  That time, I lost but I do not intend to do so again.  I can see that faceless genius in my current opponent’s moves.  A glimpse here, an attack there.  Most people would not notice.  But I do.  And it forces me to relive a part of my life I would rather forget.  Angrily I force the memories away.  I do not need the distraction.  I glance over to the other man.  He appears to have caught his breath, and he raises his sword in question.  Clenching my teeth, I answer in the same manner and the battle is once more joined.

I move in hard and fast, beating at his defenses ruthlessly.  His eyes show his confusion, but he meets my attacks stroke for stroke.  I press against him, my hands moving in a blur.  He smiles and blocks each of my attacks and begins to insert his own.  He is the only opponent to stand up to me.  I feel a thrill move through my body.  My sword sings through the air, and I see his left knee buckle slightly.

There!  That is the opening I have been waiting for!  I direct my strikes at his vulnerable side and slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to fall back.  My sword pierces his defenses and scores a hit against his right arm.  Now he is wounded, and I know the advantage is all mine.

My opponent knows it too.  I can see the knowledge in his eyes.  He steps back, lowering his sword.

“I resign.”

I acknowledge the first words of the battle with a bow.

“Thank you for the game,” I reply.  The battlefield fades from my view and the sword disappears from my grasp.  I look down at the go board.  I can see his strength staring up at me, and I feel an overwhelming sense of excitement flow through me.

I have found him.

I have found my true rival.  Shindou Hikaru and I, Touya Akira, shall explore new horizons.  Together, we will turn the go world on its ear, and together, we will reach for the very stars.

AN:  Please excuse me while I go beat my head up against a wall for a little bit.  Thank you.  I didn’t mean to write this in the present tense, first person.  It just happened that way.  I’m sorry.  But at least it is short.  Special thanks go out to Rhianikki who beta read this and Toshi who unwittingly got me on my writing kick again.

As you can tell, this fic is one of the many vignettes that focus on Akira’s feelings about playing Hikaru.  I thought that the battlefield analogy was accurate because of how Sai, Hikaru, and to some degree Akira visualize playing.  Besides I liked the ambiguity.  But that is me.

This is my first published Hikaru no Go fic.  There most likely will be others.

Let me know what you think!