A Man, a Promise, and Go
The Boy Who Wasn’t a Warrior
In the small town of Mayabashi (厩橋), strength meant everything. Swords were more common than books, and a man’s worth was often measured by how quickly he could draw steel.
Kondou Sashiba (近藤左司马) didn’t belong in that world.
He had no sword. No scars. Just a quiet demeanor, thin wrists, and a sharp mind—especially sharp when seated before a Go board.
People whispered behind his back, calling him soft. But Sashiba had long since learned to ignore them. He wasn’t trying to win the world’s approval.
He just wanted to marry Eiko (荣子).
Eiko (荣子)
Eiko was a local girl, a bright soul with a fierce sense of loyalty. She loved to read, often more than she let on, and she found Sashiba’s quiet confidence magnetic. Where others saw a frail boy, she saw someone thoughtful, careful, and kind.
Their love grew quietly—late walks, stolen glances, whispered dreams beneath spring blossoms. They promised each other a future.
But not everyone was so romantic.
Her parents wanted a husband with muscle, not manners. A samurai, or at least someone who could hold a sword without trembling.
When Sashiba came to ask for her hand, they laughed behind closed doors.
Eventually, after days of pleading from Eiko—tears, hunger strikes, drama—they relented. But only on one condition:
“Prove yourself. Earn real recognition. Do something that matters. Then we’ll talk about marriage.”
The Decision
That night, Sashiba didn’t sleep. He sat on the veranda, staring into the garden’s blackness, thinking about every way he didn’t fit the mold.
But there was one path he could walk—a path of black and white.
Go.
He wasn’t the best in Mayabashi. That honor belonged to Seiemon (清右卫门), trained by the infamous gambling master Gengorou (源五郎). But Sashiba knew he had a chance.
So he made a vow. To Eiko. To himself.
“Give me three years. I’ll go to Edo. I’ll study at the Honinbo school. I’ll earn a 3 dan certificate, and return a man worthy of your hand.”
Eiko gave him her scarf.
“Three years. No more.”
The Road to Edo
Days later, Sashiba set off. No horse, no entourage—just a travel pack, a few coins, and a secondhand Go set tied to his sash.
He walked for days, sleeping in roadside shrines and cheap inns. By the time he reached Kumagaya, his feet were blistered and his back sore.
He checked into a small guesthouse just before sunset. As he was washing up, he heard the familiar click of stones outside.
Curious, he peeked through the shutters.
A Game with Shadows
Two men were deep into a Go match in the courtyard. One wore merchant robes, the other a noble’s silks. But more interesting were the two watchers:
● One, a man puffing on a long pipe.
● The other, a mysterious figure beneath a wide kasa hat, holding a parasol despite the dry air.
Sashiba stared at the board. The match was subtle, elegant, precise—clearly the work of strong players. But something was off.
The pipe-smoker would blow in different directions, tilt his head, and tap the bowl of his pipe just so. Then the parasol would tilt slightly, catching the moonlight and flashing onto the board.
Moments later, the next move would land, always exactly on the reflected point.
A cold trick. But cleverly done.
And then came the final cheat.
The pipe-man, while feigning a yawn, reached forward and plucked a black dead stone from the opponent’s bowl. Just one. Just enough to change the game’s outcome.
That was too much.
Sashiba forgot himself.
“You thief! You stole a dead stone!”
Chaos
All hell broke loose.
The merchant roared. The nobleman flipped the board, sending stones flying like hail. The pipe-smoker shouted threats, and the man with the parasol stood calmly, watching it all.
Sashiba ducked back, heart hammering.
Moments later, the inn’s maid burst in, wide-eyed and breathless.
“Are you insane?! That was Hasegawa (长谷川) out there! He’ll kill you for ruining the game! Run!”
Sashiba didn’t need to be told twice.
He bolted into the night.
Storm Shelter
The rain caught him halfway through the rice fields.
With no town in sight, he took shelter in a crumbling roadside shrine. Cold. Soaked. Alone.
He sat against the wooden wall, trembling.
And then—another set of footsteps. Another man is stepping into the shelter.
It was the parasol figure from the game.
They recognized each other immediately. For a long moment, they said nothing. Then the stranger chuckled.
“You have sharp eyes,” he said. “Not many catch on that quickly.”
They spoke in the dark.
And then, without explanation, the man asked:
“Shall we play a game?”
Sashiba hesitated. He had no board. No stones.
“In our minds,” the man said.
Blind Go in the Rain
So they played. Move by move. In the pitch-black shrine, soaked from the rain, neither able to see the other’s face.
Sashiba tried to track the board in his mind, but his vision began to blur. He’d never played like this. The stranger, calm and collected, waited between every move. Patient. Kind.
They reached 50 moves. The man stood.
“We’ll finish this another day,” he said.
And then, without a name or farewell, he vanished into the forest just before dawn.
To Be Continued in Part 2: The Man in the Rain
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Copyright Notice
This English adaptation is based on Japanese Go Stories (《日本围棋故事》, 2016) by Xue Zhicheng (薛至诚).
For non-commercial use only: Shared for educational purposes under fair use.
Rights retained: All copyrights belong to the original author and cited sources.
Modifications: Minor narrative adjustments were made for readability; all historical content remains accurate.
No affiliation or endorsement: This work is independent and unaffiliated with the original author or publishers.
Contact: For verification or takedown requests, please email help@zeejyan.com.
References
Adapted from:
Xue Zhicheng (薛至诚), Japanese Go Stories (《日本围棋故事》), 2016.
Cited in original work:
Watanabe Hideo (渡辺英夫), Shin Zaigin Dansō (《新坐隱談叢》)
Watanabe Yoshimichi (渡部義通), Kodai Igo no Sekai (《古代囲碁の世界》)
Lin Yu (林裕), Weiqi Encyclopedia (《围棋百科辞典》)
