Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 18 - Chapter 2.01

  Public Institution

“Nice of you to come.”

A very high-ranking Shogi professional invited me over to his house today.

“C’mon in. Make yourself at home.”

“Th-Thank you for h-habbing me!”

No professional player in Tokyo has invited me where they live before, other than Natagiri-sensei, of course, but he was hosting me.

And that was only because Grampa-sensei asked him ……

This time, an opponent I faced before reached out to me.

“U-Um! This is a famous brand of sake from Ishikawa, Joukigen! It was served at a Nobel Prize dinner party, so I promise you it’s very good quality!”

“Oh? Sorry for the trouble,” the former Dragon King Ryuo, Takeru Usui 9-dan, says and takes the bag so naturally, it was like handing him groceries.

“Still, how can you tell good sake from the cheap stuff at your age? Aren’t you still in grade school?”

“Dad is …… My father is the top chef at my family’s inn. He taught me. Sorry ……”

“That’s nothing to apologize for. Everything served at the HinaTsuru during the Ryou Title Match was top notch, so I can’t wait to taste this. Speaking of, I just remembered that the HinaTsuru’s manager herself recommended sake to me personally.”

“Mom …… The manager remembers you very well, Usui-sensei. She said that you stood apart from the tens of thousands of guests she has served over the years.”

“Heh. Of course I do.”

The former Ryuo, a prodigy said to be on par with the Meijin, passes up my compliment …… and then picks up a picture in his entryway for some reason.

And says this.

“Anyway, this here is my son. He’s in his second year in junior high and has been completely hooked on a monster-based card game recently. I tried playing it with him, and there’s a surprising amount of strategy that goes into it. Is it popular in grade school, too?”

“Um …… Yes. The boys are always playing it during recess.”

“Yeah, I bet. My son might not look it, but he’s got book smarts and is a darn good athlete. He’s creative and doesn’t get bored easily, just like me. Handsome, too, don’t you think?”

“H-He sounds wonderful! And very handsome, too!”

“…………”

“…………?”

What’s wrong? Should I have complimented him more?

“…… Any thoughts?”

“Uwhaa?”

“Hmm. Whatever.”

Takeru Usui 9-dan puts the picture back on the shelf and disappears into the hallway.

―――…… What was that about?

I’m still confused even as I race after him.

First of all, I don’t understand why he invited me here at all. We traded contact information when he called a taxi for me after our match the other day. Then, completely out of the blue, I got a message from him saying come and this address.

――― I don’t think he wants to do a practice session or a versus match either.

Before I know it, we stop in front of a door that has a plaque that says Research Room on it. Usui-sensei takes out a gaudy key and opens the lock.

“Go on. Not just anyone gets to come in here.”

I follow him inside and see ……

“?!”

An unbelievable sight that takes my breath away ……

Notebooks.

Notebooks upon notebooks upon notebooks. And even more notebooks.

Piles of them are stacked high like towers that reach all the way to the ceiling everywhere I look. It’s like a forest of notebooks in here.

“Wow ………… I had no idea it was this impressive ……!”

Natagiri-sensei has a surprisingly large collection of books, but that was nothing compared to this.

Usui-sensei sounds satisfied.

“I’d wager you knew about this room, then?”

“Oishi-sensei told me this is where you fought a war against the world ……!”

“Argh. I thought I told him not to let Statics in on it.”

I honestly can’t tell if that was a joke or not.

“You can come here whenever you wish from now on. Read anything you like.”

“Th-Thank you so mu―――”

I freeze right in the middle of a word.

Because there’s someone else in this notebook forest.

“Hello. I go by Wada.”

“Wada ……?”

Are there any professional senseis with that name?

Maybe he’s a strong amateur?

“See? She forgot who I was, so you didn’t stand a chance,” Usui-sensei teases.

Mr. Wada looks …… about 60 years old. There are lots and lots of men that age in the Shogi world, so I can’t remember him right away.

“I was once the journalist responsible for covering the Ryou Title Match and was present when Kuzuryu 7-dan …… or should I say Mr. Kuzuryu claimed the title in the 29th season.”

“Ah! Then―――”

Of course he came to the HinaTsuru on the north coast!

Mom would be so angry at me if she found out I didn’t recognize a guest. Even worse, if he was in charge of the Ryou Title Match, then I had to have seen him many more times after that ……

“Don’t worry, Hinatsuru-Women’s Legend. Another journalist had taken over the position by the time you went to Hawaii with Mr. Kuzuryu. I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”

“But you’ve still got clout,” Usui-sensei interjects with a grin.

Clout ……?

“Mr. Wada was pivotal in establishing the Ryuo Title. You could say the association owes him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far …… I was just doing my job, after all.”

“Humble as always. But we pro players don’t think he needs to be.”

The former Ryuo says flatly.

“Paper companies aren’t just association sponsors. They’re like employers for players and journalists. Match articles, columns, observer requests, big board analysts at the venues, the list goes on. If you throw in the Amateur Ryuo League and High School Ryuo League, it would be near impossible to find a player who hasn’t taken a job from Mr. Wada.”

Usui-sensei counts on his fingers.

Since I played in a title match myself, I know firsthand how much time and money the newspaper companies commit to maintaining the leagues.

“Playing Shogi isn’t the only work we do. Actually, for those who cannot play as much, the paper's intentions are more important than at the height of their career. Catch my drift, Ai?”

“You’re saying …… that he has a lot of sway over senseis who don’t play as many matches as before or have already retired but have votes in player’s meetings …… Right?”

Usui-sensei gives me a satisfied nod.

Now Mr. Wada speaks up.

“I have one other role. Actually, I would say that is the main reason I’m here.”

“? What is it?”

“My role as a public institution.”

I remember hearing about those in class at school ………… Umm, what was it again?

“I will write an article about what you’re trying to achieve, Miss Hinatsuru.”

“! …… You mean, a newspaper article?”

“I won’t be holding back like a Shogi magazine would. Rather, I’ll be writing the facts as they are.”

My goal: creating a Professional Entrance Exam.

This is the perfect opportunity to get that message out into the world.

―――But ……

Not only will the things I say reflect on me.

But also, now that I have a title, my words will impact its reputation.

Usui-sensei seems to pick up on my hesitation.

“A sports paper foots the bill for the Women’s Legend League, but it’s also connected to the paper company that sponsors the Ryuo League. Picking up articles written by Mr. Wada, who is a Ryuo Title Match journalist, won’t cause a conflict of interest.”

…… It’s no wonder people call Takeru Usui 9-dan a master tactician.

His systematic attention to detail makes me feel ten times lighter.

There’s a hint of pride in Mr. Wada’s tone.

“We have a readership of ten million.”

“That’s back in the day, yeah?”

“We still advertise using that number. And, even if our physical subscribers are only half that number, articles that appear on actual paper are so much more influential than those on the internet.”

Ten …… million.

I can’t even imagine it.

Plus, the papers go out to people’s houses, so the number of people who read them is actually even bigger. Their articles are also published online ……

“Many things will happen, just so you know. Putting your name and your face in the paper doesn’t only bring flowers and sunshine,” Mr. Wada gently explains as my whole body starts to tremble. “My articles have drastically changed the lives of some people. And you, Miss Hinatsuru, are still an elementary school student. At your age―――”

“I’ll do it.”

I kneel on the spot and lower my head all the way to the floor.

“Please, let me do this! Please!”

“Good answer.”

That wasn’t Mr. Wada, but Usui-sensei.

I have no clue why he is going this far to help me, but I can’t let this chance pass me by.

Mr. Wada excitedly opens his calendar to schedule an interview.

“Well then, let’s dub this venture as Project I!”

“Project …… Ai?”

“Old farts like him like assigning names to everything,” adds Usui-sensei with a shrug. “As an old fart myself, I can tell you that it strikes a cord. What are we to do?”