After quickly buying the latest issue of Dream Comic, Hiroto eagerly flipped to the serialization page of Hikaru no Go.
As a long-time fan of this magazine, his favorite work had always been Source War Chronicle, but that preference had changed about half a year ago, right here, when he first saw the serialization of Hikaru no Go in this very magazine.
Back home, seated at his computer desk, Hiroto took a deep breath.
"Go, Hikaru no Go, go!"
He silently cheered in his heart.
He was cheering for Hikaru in the manga, and also for Hikaru no Go itself in the magazine.
Unlike most readers who only cared about the story, Hiroto closely followed the weekly popularity rankings officially released by Dream Comic.
He knew very well that Hikaru no Go was not far from surpassing Fist Armor, which currently ranked third in the magazine.
With mixed emotions, Hiroto lowered his gaze to the manga page.
The chapter opened on the morning of the final day of the Professional Go Player Qualification Tournament.
By now, most players already knew whether they had succeeded.
For example, if Hikaru won this match, he would qualify with certainty.
And if he lost, then, provided Isumi won his own match today, Isumi would advance instead.
Likewise, Waya had the same record as Hikaru, but his opponent today was relatively weak, making his chances of losing quite low.
There were also those whose elimination had already been decided by their win–loss records, such as Hikaru's friends from the dojo. All of them had come today purely to support him.
"That's right… with Ochi's sharp tongue, it's no wonder he doesn't have anyone cheering for him. Everyone's probably hoping he loses."
Even so, Hiroto quickly calculated the situation in his head.
"Even if Ochi loses, it would only be a single loss, he'd still qualify steadily. Compared to that…"
His thoughts raced.
In the end, he let out a sigh.
Could Isumi and Hikaru really not advance together?
If Isumi hadn't made that fatal blunder in their previous match, if that foul and resignation hadn't shaken both of their mental states and led to their later losses, then under the current win–loss structure, both of them would still have had a chance.
'Shirogane-sensei… what are you doing? Why are you so cruel?'
In the manga, Hikaru stood at the entrance, picked up the victory stamp, reserved only for winners, from the recording podium, and pressed it firmly into his palm.
"I must win."
The next moment, Hikaru and the hundreds of players who had fought their way to the final round entered the vast playing hall.
Isumi.
Waya.
Hikaru.
Ochi.
Ochi wanted to qualify with a perfect record.
The other three were locked in direct competition.
If all three won, Isumi would be eliminated.
If Isumi won, then whoever lost between Hikaru and waya would fall.
All four had reasons they could not afford to lose.
In the manga, the four sat down at their boards, eyes steady, expressions resolute.
That unique blend of romance and cruelty found only in competitive sports surged through Hiroto's chest.
Even Ochi, the most disliked among them, wasn't truly despicable. His biggest flaw was merely his sharp tongue.
He was the kind of person who would lock himself in the restroom after a loss, replaying every mistake in his mind, harsh toward others, but even harsher toward himself.
This manga had no villains. There was no scheming, no malice.
Everyone simply wanted to win. Everyone wanted victory.
How could such people, brought together by a plot Shirogane-sensei had carefully built for over two months, culminating in this final round, not move him?
At that moment, Hiroto quickly opened his computer, launched his music player, and queued up the classic BGM tracks from the Hikaru no Go TV series.
"It really feels best to read the manga with the instrumental version of the theme song, personally composed by Shirogane-sensei."
His focus returned to the page.
Those who still had hope, and those who didn't, had all come to give their final game meaning.
Even the bearded Go player who had once tried to disrupt Hikaru's mindset appeared again. Having already confirmed his elimination, he simply gave Hikaru a thumbs-up, silently wishing him luck.
Hiroto turned the page.
Ochi, glasses on, expression severe, sat down across from Hikaru.
Their eyes met.
Behind Hikaru stood Sai.
And behind Ochi, the phantom image of Akira.
"Akira is watching this match… through Ochi."
Hikaru understood it immediately.
From the very first chapter, he and Akira had been rivals.
Now, forty-three chapters later, that sense of fate, that romance of destiny guiding them toward each other on the path of Go, had grown impossibly strong.
Akira had become a professional one year earlier.
And now Hikaru, after a year in the dojo, stood only one victory away from reaching the same starting line.
Akira was a genius.
But what about Hikaru?
"Just a little more…"
Hikaru's hand trembled.
"Just a little more, Akira."
"I can reach your world."
Hiroto felt a surge of mixed emotions, and his eyes gradually reddened.
"I won't lose. I absolutely won't lose. I have Akira behind me… What about you, Hikaru? Who is supporting you?"
Ochi's gaze hardened.
The game began.
The plot soon reached a point Hiroto could no longer fully understand.
Although he had tried to seriously study Go after falling in love with Hikaru no Go, reality was cruel, how much could someone really improve in just half a year?
He still couldn't comprehend the Go positions in the manga that he wasn't meant to understand.
But even if he couldn't read the board, he read the story, page by page, panel by panel.
The two placed their stones one after another.
In the midgame, Ochi played a brilliant move that instantly changed Hikaru's expression. After a long pause, Hikaru responded with what looked like an insignificant countermove.
Just as Ochi believed that Hikaru's confidence had been shattered, that this casual response meant he was rattled;
A memory surfaced in Ochi's mind.
The game between Hikaru and the Korean genius Go player that Akira had told him about.
In that match, Hikaru had once placed a stone casually during the midgame. At the time, it looked bad, almost careless.
But dozens of moves later, as the endgame unfolded, that very stone became the key move that reversed the entire situation.
Because he remembered that game.
The contempt in Ochi's eyes vanished instantly.
"Akira… you really…"
Hiroto was practically jumping out of his seat.
If Akira hadn't abruptly set aside his own training to become Ochi's tutor, if he hadn't drilled into Ochi the danger Hikaru represented...
Then this match would have already belonged to Hikaru.
The game entered a white-hot phase.
Ochi's mind repeatedly replayed the meaning behind Hikaru's move.
Ten moves.
Twenty moves.
Fifty moves.
As the simulated variations piled up, Ochi finally saw it.
That "bad move" was actually a brilliant one, laid out with dozens of moves in mind.
Hikaru didn't panic even after his setup was exposed.
Since the trap had been seen through, then so be it.
They would decide the match with pure strength.
In the manga, the tempo of the game accelerated.
Ochi's initial advantage was gradually eroded, turning into a brutal stalemate as both sides fought over every stone, every single point.
Ochi had only received Akira's special training for a single month.
But Hikaru?
"He played Go with Sai for two whole years! Every single day, he lost game after game to Sai, sometimes more than ten games a day. Who has experienced harsher matches than Hikaru?"
"Every game he played against Sai was an uphill battle, and he never won even once!"
"And now he's only slightly behind you, and you think you can defeat him?"
"When it comes to pure strength, how could Hikaru possibly lose to you?!"
Unable to contain himself, Hiroto stood up while reading.
By the endgame, Ochi's expression finally changed.
Hikaru wasn't just catching up relentlessly.
In the endgame, he used countless sharp, clever moves to pierce Ochi's black stone framework.
Hiroto swallowed hard.
Even though this was only a manga, his tension felt painfully real.
The scene shifted.
Isumi had finished his match early and was waiting outside the playing hall for the final results.
Then he saw Waya's smiling face after a victory.
Which meant, If Hikaru did not lose, Isumi would definitely be eliminated.
Hiroto's chest tightened again.
Isumi waited alone in the room, anxious for the outcome…
In the end, no friends came in to congratulate him.
If Hikaru had lost, then Isumi would have advanced. With the number of friends Isumi had at the club, a whole crowd would surely have gathered to celebrate with him.
But now, the surroundings were deserted.
A trace of sadness appeared on Isumi's face.
That could only mean one thing, Hikaru had won.
Under the pouring rain, Isumi left the playing hall alone.
Hiroto watched the scene with tears welling up in his eyes.
He knew he should have been happy. After all, the protagonist Hikaru, had defeated Ochi and finally become a professional Go player.
And yet, at this very moment, his heart ached.
On the other side, Ochi also returned home alone after his defeat.
Even when Akira rushed to Ochi's doorstep, hoping to obtain the game record, Ochi coldly refused him.
The final panel of the chapter showed Akira sitting quietly in the car, his expression solemn.
He understood.
Hikaru had officially stepped into the world of professional Go.
And in the not-too-distant future, they would meet again across the board.
Akira murmured softly, "Come on, Hikaru."
Hiroto turned the page.
The chapter ended there.
He leaned back in his computer chair. After a long while, the storm of emotions inside him finally began to settle.
"So he finally became a professional Go player... Forty-three weeks," he murmured to himself. "From the very first chapter until now, Hikaru, you've finally reached Akira's world."
"It really wasn't easy."
Hiroto felt like crying.
There was no joy in his heart, no sense that this outcome was simply the natural reward for Hikaru's efforts.
Among those who had lost to Hikaru, some had worked harder than him. Some had cherished the professional qualification tournament far more deeply.
Ochi. Isumi. Waya.
Which one of them had not been immersed in Go since childhood?Which one had not challenged the professional exam again and again?
And yet, in the end, Isumi failed to qualify.
Rather than a sports manga, this felt more like watching real lives unfold.
The lives of people who hoped to make a living from Go. Who pursued higher skill, higher ground, higher dreams.
Through Hikaru's eyes, Hiroto was merely witnessing their struggles.
Were professional Go players in reality also forged step by step like this?
The thought lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.