Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 3 - Chapter 5.5

  TO TEN-YEAR-OLD ME

“…… She’s good ……,” I groan to myself as the gateway to a different world of Shogi opens right before my eyes.

My early game was perfect.

 …… At least, I thought it was.

But the gears started jamming mid-game when Ai sacrificed her Promoted Bishop … Even after that, I thought I played the best possible move turn after turn … 

“…… Very good ……”

I glance up at the little girl seated on the other side of the board once again.

That girl is concentrating on the board so hard that she’s holding her breath, cheeks puffed out as she analyzes every single detail.

Almost the way an athlete who is running a 100-meter sprint at full speed finds that extra burst to go even faster … And she’s about to overtake me.

“…… I’ve been running a marathon, I’ll have you know …”

I doubt she heard my gripe either. Of course she didn’t.

Sacrificing a Rook to take a Bishop.

Then deploying that Bishop in a spot that was as good as throwing it away.

That magical, almost universal sense dismantled my defenses in no time flat. The fact that I was leagues ahead until the mid-game made no difference.

“……… But where …?”

–––Where did I go wrong?

–––Where did things turn against me?

Knowing that I’m about to lose breaks my concentration, and I reflect on what just happened.

Then, long before that …… back to when I first joined the Practice League.

A seven-year quest to become a Women’s League player.

Back then, I thought I was starting on the journey a little bit later than everyone else. That’s all.

I thought that I was talented just because Dad was a professional player. It was so easy to think so in those days.

I was certain that if I took it seriously, I’d be in the Women’s League by the time I turned twenty. All of us in the Practice League at that time talked about how great the future was going to be, laughing and enjoying every day.

But I’m the only one still here.

Everyone else either joined the Women’s League or went to college, found a job or got married after they quit.

Happy birthday.

I’m not sure when it started, but now those words sound like a curse.

My window of opportunity feels like it’s closing a little more with each year that goes by.

Even though I had to keep studying, I had to research Shogi as much as I could, I started to hate the sight of a Shogi board.

Even though I was doing what I love, pursuing my dream, in reality that very dream was starting to crush me.

It’s gotten to the point where just coming to the association is embarrassing.

I don’t want to see Ginko. I don’t want to see either of the Ai’s. I don’t want to see any of their names written in magazines or newspapers.

Because I’m envious.

Because I’m jealous.

Those girls are living my dream. They’ve become what I wanted to be, possess what I wanted to have. That’s why I feel so worthless whenever I see them. Playing Shogi starts to feel pointless and I start to question why I’m even alive.

–––You’re not needed.

–––You have no talent.

It’s like every time I see a black circle on my match card, that’s what it’s saying to me. My spirit starts to crack with each one.

Every time I see a white circle on Ai’s Match Card, it’s saying the same thing and my spirit cracks even more.

She’s done nothing wrong, and yet there’s a part of me that hates this girl more and more. That’s why I don’t want to see her, don’t want to talk to her.

But worst of all …… I hate that part of myself.

I hate the weak me!

“Whew ……”

I take a deep breath and look toward the ceiling to settle down.

This is about as good as trying to fix my breaking spirit with scotch tape. It’s a total mess, but somehow someway it’s still holding up.

The chess clock ticks away the seconds.

I hear heavy breaths from my friends and fellow Practice League members; all of them desperately trying to read the board.

And the sound of Shogi pieces snapping like chopped wood adds fuel to my spiritual fire.

I’ve heard these sounds since before I was born.

I learned the rules from my parents when I was six and hated it with a passion when I was eleven.

Then I seriously faced Shogi for the first time when I was eighteen.

It’s been seven years since then.

I’ve lived in this world, trying to become a Women’s League player for longer than this little girl sitting in front of me can remember her own life. I’ve been fighting to make Shogi, something I once hated with every fiber of my being, into a lifelong career. Being cut deeper, more painfully than spilling blood ever could be the entire time.

Do I want to run away from it? Escape from this dream?

“…… You know you don’t.”

Because seriously, I don’t know when to give up, even in a hopeless situation like this.

That’s right.

I don’t give up.

Not to brag, but–––I’m confident in saying that there’s no worse loser out there than me.

“Not yet!!”

SLAP!

I smack both cheeks and slam a piece down into my formation with a louder SNAP! And then hit the chess clock with an even louder WHACK!

“Come and get me!!” I howl at a grade school girl to come back from so far behind, to get all this built-up poison out of my heart. Appearances don’t mean a thing.

“K …… Keika’s broken …”

Yaichi sounds scared. Has he been seeing things? This is the real me.

“Go get her, Keika!”

“You’re doing great, Ai!”

More and more Practice League members gather around and start cheering for us now that their own matches have ended.

Our lead instructor is silent, but I can feel his kind, supportive gaze.

I can tell that Sub League members, people who have done practice sessions with me, who used to be in the Practice League with me, are silently offering their support while busy with their own matches.

That wasn’t all.

The friendly lady who always says hello from her post at the gift shop downstairs has her hands together in front of her chest, praying for me. The security guard, who’s always offered a kind word ever since I was a kid whenever I would come to the association, is watching this match from the shade of a support column in a corner of the arena. They both think they’re well hidden, but they’re not hidden at all. They’re on the clock, so the two of them are neglecting their duties right now.

“……!”

A spot deep in my nose twitches, my eyes tear up and make the characters on the pieces look blotchy.

So many people are here supporting me.

So many people are holding out hope that someone as weak and pitiful as I am can win.

My brittle, nearly snapped spirit is now–––.

“…… Burning!!”

Now able to focus, I turn my attention back to the fight.

I’m at a disadvantage.

But I still have an option left.

Calling upon all the skills and techniques I’ve built up during my journey–––.

“I will take you down!!” 

I take hold of my own King and put it back down with force.

King—quick escape!

“Followed by!!”

A mad dash to the opposite side of the board: nyugyoku! 

An approaching King always makes an opponent slow down and think twice, which will apply pressure to the opposing King as mine comes barreling down on it!

The key to any comeback is to keep pressure on the opposing King.

You have to make your opponent continuously think about offense and defense. That way, they have to work twice as hard under pressure and are more likely to make a mistake.

I up the ante by slapping my pieces down as quickly as possible with each move to interrupt Ai’s thinking rhythm, a little technique that I’ve picked up. All the experience I’ve cultivated in the Practice League … Everything I’ve learned since I was in training before then … I call on it all, bring every single tidbit to bear in this match!!

Even Ai Hinatsuru shouldn’t be able to handle all of this at once …!

“…… Here, here, herehereherehereherehereherehere–––.”

She’s not …… backing down.

“Herehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehereherehere––––––.”

Not only is Ai unaware of the people around us or my tactics, I’m pretty sure she’s forgotten that I’m even here. She’s completely absorbed in the board, looking at Shogi and nothing else.

Seeing her like that, I think to myself, Have I …… ever faced Shogi with that much intensity before?

I want to be a Women’s League player.

That dream of mine, it was because if I joined the Women’s League, people would call me Sensei. People would respect me. I chose to follow that dream for the simple reason that my childhood home is also a Shogi classroom, and it looked like more fun than getting a job job. There was nothing else to it. If Ginko can do it, then so can I. That’s it, cut and dried.

My drive to become a Women’s League player didn’t come from a love of Shogi.

That may be true for the person I was at ten years old, when I wrote that letter but …… I’d forgotten what it felt like by the time I joined the Practice League. That was the most important thing.

I was always concerned with what others were thinking while I was playing Shogi. I was so concerned with what they thought of me that I never concentrated entirely on my matches. I always had the future, money, status and fame in the back of my mind when I was playing.

But, Ai is different.

Ai wants to join the Women’s League because she really loves Shogi.

Then again, she probably has no interest in the qualifications at all. Ai had no idea that Women’s League players existed until recently.

It was her admiration for Yaichi and Shogi’s charms that drove her to dive headfirst into this world without thinking about the implications. She’s not in it for herself.

Unbelievable, yes? This nine-year-old girl loved Shogi so much that she left her home behind to become a live-in apprentice all by herself. It’s incredible.

She left the only home she knew to jump into the arms of her favorite Shogi player.

Just like the undefeated Snow White–––just like Ginko.

“…… I can’t compete with that …”

My King is already trapped. It can’t break free. Even I, weak as I am, can tell.

There’s a chance I’ll never join the Women’s League.

That window became even smaller today.

However, I think I found something even more important.

This girl …… there’s something that playing against Ai made me realize.

A love for Shogi.

The feeling, a desire to keep playing it.

Ai reminded me what it felt like, the pure love for Shogi I had back when I was ten years old.

She has so much more talent but …… this girl might be my younger self, reincarnated by the Shogi gods.

If the girl who wrote that letter saw her twenty-year-old self, she’d probably be disappointed.

But not because I didn’t make my dream come true.

Because I’d lost sight of it.

So–––.

I straighten my posture, put my hand on my piece stand, lower my head, and say as loud and clearly as I can.

“I lost.”

Words I’ve said thousands and thousands of times before.

Words I’ll probably say hundreds of thousands of times more.

To my ten-year-old self.

Twenty-five-year-old me is still chasing the dream.