Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 18 - Chapter 2.08

  Boys’ Shogi Camp

In a room so inundated with male odors that the throat begs for mercy, Natagiri 8-dan crosses out the final remaining number on the waiting time reference chart placed atop the boardside table.

“Kannabe-sensei, one-minute Shogi begins now.”

“Acknowledged!!” I softly scream with my gaze firmly affixed to the board.

Beginning yesterday morning, both of us have exhausted nearly every last second of our allotted eight hours of waiting time in this match. As that time itself has been measured using a stopwatch that shaves off seconds down to the nearest minute, we have been at war for well over sixteen hours, at the very least.

The formation, indistinguishable. However there is a discrepancy in our waiting time.

Thinking is a luxury I no longer possess.

“―――There!!”

My first instinct leads me to a sequence that exploits my adversary’s vulnerable underbelly and I ride out in full force.

Immediately following that is a body blow in the form of a big piece that arrives from a completely unforeseen angle.

“Urgh?!”

Being hit unexpectedly under one-minute Shogi makes breathing physically impossible. Worse, a follow-up blow nails my defenses before the phantom pain left by the first can fully dissipate.

“Ngh ……! Arrrgh ……!!”

Already suffering from fatigue induced by a match longer than any I have ever experienced, an unexpected flurry of blows at the very end forces pathetic grunts and groans from my lungs.

Except this pain is not nearly enough.

―――If he were here …… the sequence would have been even more merciless ……

I spend my last threads of consciousness offering up my surrender.

“What’s with you? Chin up,” says a scantily clad Natagari 8-dan, emerging from the bath while drying his damp hair with a hand towel.

I, who had received the honor of the first bath, remain hunched on the sofa and give this response.

“………… One who could raise their chin after being defeated by an adversary they vanquished in the Challenger Match under title match rules seems far more unnatural to me ……”

“Are you going to act like this when it counts? Because when the title match starts, it’s the time starting from when you know you lost a match that’s important.”

“How do you mean ……?”

“You lay the groundwork for winning the next match once you accept the current one is lost. It works the other way, too. Once your opponent knows they won, it’s their chance to pile on the damage. They’ll try to crush your spirit. And if you mope around like this, it’s safe to say it works like a charm.”

“……”

“There are some tricks of the trade just for this. And the only place to pick them up is playing on the title match stage.”

―――The point of saying that escapes me ……

“How am I supposed to contend without that experience―――”

It comes to me in a flash in the midst of my counterargument.

Did the Meijin …… organize this session just to give me said experience?

“Be grateful. Even young pros hate the idea of having to do a practice match using title match rules, and that busy, busy man not only gave you that much of his time, he made the offer in the first place.”

Very true.

The Meijin proposed this title match preparation session the very day the Crown Challenger Match came to a close.

The participants: the Meijin, Natagiri 8-dan and myself.

It was that number that first struck me as unusual.

By and large, practice sessions are carried out with an even number of participants. That way, all can take part in matches simultaneously.

This session, however, only had three.

Two play while one records. Even the Meijin took his turn.

Then, once the match was complete, we used computer software to analyze the sequences while conducting our own thorough review session. This, I assumed, was the most vital element.

Reason being that Yaichi Kuzuryu of late has risen to a point that the Shogi sense of one individual would never be enough to stand against him.

Chances are that the Meijin intended to host this practice session regardless of the Challenger Match outcome.

The final event scheduled for the excursion was a two-day format mock title match between the Meijin and myself. It was the most extreme form of practice I have ever undergone.

“Playing an eight-hour waiting time match against the Meijin with a recorder present to boot. Even a chance to practice a sealing move. This was the real thing, what title matches actually feel like. Why, I’m so jealous, I could bleed green for days!”

It goes without saying that my gratitude is boundless.

Natagiri-sensei filled the role of match recorder, even using a stopwatch to track the waiting time. I never imagined an A League player, one who challenged the Meijin in the Meijin Title Match just last year only to be vanquished, would consider attending such a practice session.

But …… with the title match on the very near horizon, dark thoughts start to emerge through the tattered remains of my fighting spirit.

―――Was this retaliation against me for robbing him of a title match against Yaichi Kuzuryu?

When, from out of the blue, Natagiri 8-dan asks, “You’re having a beer, right?”

“No, I―――”

“Haven’t had one before, hm? Then tonight is too good of a chance to pass up!”

I formulate my counterargument to that flawed logic, but Natagiri 8-dan takes a can of that alcoholic liquid from the refrigerator and tosses it in my direction.

“You’d better get an idea of how much beer you can hold. After all, it’s next to impossible to avoid drinking entirely at opening night and closing parties.”

“Wouldn’t a sip during the opening toast suffice?” I retort, and somehow manage to catch the cylindrical projectile of a beer can.

In the event that this title match runs to a full set, there will be seven parties of both varieties. Indeed, with that many opportunities, I may end up consuming more alcohol than anticipated.

This beverage is also used to celebrate victories and dull the agony of defeat …… Both of which I anticipate experiencing over the course of the title match.

“Word to the wise: hard drinks can be a good weapon to have.”

“A weapon …… How?”

“Picture this: it’s your first title match. A series of seven games, all against your life-long rival and best friend. You’ll either be stiff as a statue or roaring with competitive fire. Things don’t flow like they usually do when you’re like that, no?”

“…………”

“That’s where a nip from the bottle, or can, comes in. Just the right amount can give you a good night’s sleep. The problem is that the inexperienced tend to drink too much when they’re just starting out. That’s why right now, with full-fledged veterans around, is the best time to experiment. Okay?”

“……………………………”

Why do I feel as though these are sweet words meant to persuade me ……?

“…… Then I accept.”

“Cheers! ♡”

Natagiri-sensei plants himself beside me, close enough for our shoulders and legs to touch, and raises a can to his lips. Deep, indulgent gulps echo as he drinks the entire beer and, almost as if taunting me, flips the can upside down.

The 8-dan grins from ear to ear upon seeing the tremor in my eyes.

“Better start with just a little taste.”

“……!!”

Not a drop of alcohol has entered my system, and yet I feel my face turn a red hue.

While I highly doubt consuming this concoction will have much if any influence over me …… it is slightly frightening to consume something I have never tried before.

No, I say! What is there to be frightened of?!

“Hmn!”

I press the can to my lips and tilt my head all the way back.

The cold liquid flows like rapids into my open throat.

And I choke.

“NRGH?! Koff ……! KOFF ……!”

“O-ho! Very nice. ♡” Natagiri 8-dan gleefully comments between swigs from his second can next to me.

Perhaps he derives pleasure from teasing me ……?

“Why are you sitting beside me in the first place? Face to face is the standard, yes? Oh, and don more clothing, would you please?”

“What, after we played naked together?”

“…… I kept my undershirt on during that match.”

The emptiness of that counterpoint is apparent, even to me. But I argued back lest I would appear weak in his eyes. Ever since that fateful A League Placement Match, I have been on the receiving end of messages from this man every single day. Master …… Rina has even suspected me of being unfaithful.

“So tell me. Did you get a feel for title matches?”

“I had a fairly solid image of them already. A vision of my inevitable clash with Drakin in a 7-round bout, to be specific. However―――”

“This wasn’t what you had in mind, hm?”

“I yearned to freely collide head to head, my power against his, rather than to cross blades in this dystopian Shogi world bound by digitally produced ratings. So you are correct.”

The alcohol must have entered my system because words I wouldn’t normally utter come forth.

“Think computers impure, do you?”

“In all honesty, I cannot rid myself of that perception.”

“Yes, it’s true that they can run all sorts of simulations for the early-game. It’s also true that the one who sticks to standards rather than striking off on their own usually wins. But you could also say that the importance of reading your opponent has become that much more important in professional Shogi, no?”

Reading the opponent …… rather than their emotional state—this refers to inferring what software program the opponent uses, how deep their understanding of standards goes, how that influences their playing style and applying it to your own preparation.

Though it can be said that a competitor’s true characteristics shine through in the battle of data analysis ……

“But …… isn’t that just a battle between computers in the end? Human beings downgrading themselves to mere tools.”

“People can’t even hold a candle to machines now.”

“……!”

“Only a select few have reached the levels you’re talking about. And even if they had sole access to the strongest computer around, playing that way would give you a certain uniqueness, don’t you agree? If you want to reject that sentiment, your only choice is to win.”

“…………”

“From where I’m sitting, you look like you’re desperate to find the reason you lost. If you do, then you can justify the butt-whooping the Meijin just gave you. Tell me, why do you think you beat him in the Challenger Match?”

“But of course, my skill was―――”

It dawns on me as the words leave my mouth.

In terms of skill, title match experience and techniques used therein, I’m far outclassed by the Meijin. That became painfully obvious today.

Then the reason I was victorious against him before was ……!

“Mine was stronger.”

I bring up the one aspect of which I would never lose to anyone. A vital aspect that a computer could never experience.

“My determination to face Yaichi Kuzuryu was stronger than that of the Meijin!!”

“If you understand that much, quit doubting yourself.”

So saying, Natagiri 8-dan takes the can of beer out of my grasp and downs the remaining liquid in one swift motion.

Climbing to his feet, he asks, “It’s about time we got going, don’t you think? The grown-up pajama party is waiting!”

“…… Yes.”

I accompany Natagiri 8-dan to the bedroom where the Meijin awaits with, unsurprisingly, an open beer in his hand.

His earlier victory has made him more jovial than usual. As he has done every night of this excursion, the Meijin regales us with whatever stories come to mind.

Tales of the era when he possessed all seven titles, including his thoughts after losing one for the first time ……

I sat there, my ears agape and my mind a sponge.

Here is the Meijin, speaking about Shogi with the same energy and passion as an adolescent.

His story is a colossal epic, as if foretelling the fate of all the stars. It’s about the birth and death of a planet called Shogi, which lightly spans thousands, hundreds of thousands or even hundreds of million years.

Why did Shogi come into being and how will its existence come to an end?

Long before we were born, the Meijin clearly understood how modern Shogi would evolve and envisioned further beyond.

It all sounds so absurd …… Even I, born into the generation for which computerized Shogi is commonplace, have a hard time believing that we are talking about the same game.

That’s when I understood beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The Meijin’s overwhelming loneliness.

He traveled millions of light-years beyond his contemporaries, well before software became as strong as it is today. This man has lived in complete solitude because Shogi requires two to play.

Yaichi Kuzuryu is surely experiencing the same isolation loneliness at this very moment.

His supercomputer of a rocket ship may have already whisked him to a place where the rest of us cannot reach ……

“I will close the distance. I swear it,” I proclaim while reaching for the night sky beyond the window.

Though I may become the laughingstock of this generation, my sights are set on the bluish glint of planet Shogi far off in the distance.