Twenty-Nine -
Hikaru no Go: Sam Shindou, Private Five, Isumi and Waya
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"He thinks they're less well protected than the ones in the center of town," Ochi rapped out, hunching over his end of the goban and ignoring Waya as best he could. "He's wrong."  Mopping his forehead with a clean white handkerchief Ochi leaned forward, studying the board, and finally placed his own black stone. That done, he sat back up, his eyes helplessly following Waya as Waya paced silently around the room, eyes flicking from door to window to sliding door and back, fingers flexing in anticipation of mayhem.

"Mm," Isumi said, smiling pleasantly. He was perhaps the only person in the world who had absolutely nothing to fear from Waya and thus, unlike his opponent, he was able to ignore his bodyguard's ceaseless patrol in favor of concentrating on the game. Another white stone crashed to the board, cutting off Ochi's last gambit. That done, he sat back and flicked his paper fan open, fanning himself against the heat of the summer evening. "Deal with it as you see fit, then. Take Iijima-san if you feel you need help."

Ochi snorted. "I can handle it myself." He glared at the goban like it was personally offending him, then jerked his head down in an abortive bow. "I have nothing," he snapped, and jerked his head back up. "Thank you very much."

Isumi inclined his own head politely. "Thank you very much," he echoed, in a much more pleasant tone. "It's such a shame you have to go take care of this business, Ochi-san. I would have enjoyed another game. Ah, well..."

Ochi, knowing all too well when he was being told to leave, jerked his head down again in another little bow and then shoved himself upright. "I'll handle it, Isumi-san. Good evening--" and he turned to go and nearly crashed into Waya, who had, at some point, appeared almost at his shoulder. Ochi staggered back a step, nearly stumbling into the goban, and had to bite down on a strangled affronted squawk; Waya glared at Ochi like he was considering biting off the smaller man's nose and then, eventually, flashed him a large and insincere smile that was a little too full of teeth. Ochi muttered something impolite, eased around Waya, and nearly bolted out of the room. Isumi affected not to notice any of this, instead peacefully studying the completed game.

Waya slid over to the door and listened at it until Ochi's scuttling footsteps faded. "Hn," he finally said, rolling one shoulder to resettle his expensive gray suit. Despite the heat of the day he seemed perfectly cool and at ease; he also seemed particularly ill-suited to the meticulously tailored suit, like a shaggy feral-eyed wolf dressed in human clothes.

"Well?" Isumi said, still studying the game. His voice was still pleasant, but there was something else in it now, something hard and eager and actually curious. "Your opinion, Waya?"

"Stupid," Waya said.

Isumi looked up at him questioningly. "How so? Surely Ochi can handle such a small infiltration by himself."

"Not that," Waya said, and just like that he was back at the goban again, standing astraddle of the cushion Ochi had just vacated. There was a gray blur of sleeve and he was pointing at one of Isumi's white stones. "After you played that, he should have played there." His finger jumped to point at another of Isumi's stones, one that connected two stretches of territory via a slender bridge. "That would block you here, and then he could have spread out here, played here--" Waya's finger traced loops and whorls over the goban, until finally it came to rest actually touching one of Isumi's white stones and Waya again said, "Stupid."

Isumi was so still that he might have been made of black stone and white stone himself. His fan had ceased to move. Waya watched him for a moment, then grunted and vanished, taking up his patrol of the room's perimeter once again.

"You've been watching," Isumi finally said, his voice soft.

"Hn," Waya said from behind him, almost lost in the evening's shadows. Isumi closed his eyes and permitted himself the faintest of smiles.