Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 5 - Chapter 5.3

  BOARD OF FANTASIA

My waiting time was gone before I knew it.

“Fifty seconds …… One, two, three, four, five, six, seven–––.”

“Kh!!!”

Pressured by the match recorder’s countdown, I grab a piece from the board and smack it down like swimming through water.

The Meijin was all about his pursuit of Shogi theory knowledge during the match that ended in a Repetition Draw, but he’s changed gears entirely. Now, he’s playing to win.

…… Not thinking about the record huh? Yeah right! You’re sprinting right for it ……!

And, the truly frightening thing.

The Meijin–––is stronger when he’s out of time.

He’s transformed himself into a quick glance quick move type of player during that thirty-minute break.

–––There’s no way this is the same person I played against last time! Is he a god for real?!

Meanwhile, I can’t seem to flip the switch.

–––There are too many options! I can’t focus in and end up reading through every single one at full speed ……!!

I started the match in high gear and read deep into every sequence if I let my mind wander for even a second. That’s why my waiting time went up in smoke …… 

Long gone, I’m already playing one-minute Shogi.

On the other hand, the Meijin still has three minutes of it but plays each one of his moves in less than one. He’s conducting a masterful battle and his waiting time isn’t decreasing at all.

–––That gap is huge …… 

Only three minutes.

But that three minutes gives him triple the amount of time that I have to read to the very end. In other words, he can run three times faster than me once we get to the homestretch ……!

…… And I’ve got my hands full just trying to keep up!!

My spirit nearly breaks each time I see the gap in experience between us, but I don’t have time to feel bad for myself. Each and every second I have is spent reading the board.

I’m way beyond my limit.

My sense of time is gone. I can read through seemingly infinite sequences in the blink of an eye, but it feels like an hour goes by each moment. I’m so tired that the line between my mental Shogi board and the one in the arena has blurred to the point I’m having trouble telling the two apart.

Haaa …… huh.

Losing concentration, I look up from the board for a brief moment to catch my breath.

This person …… 

My train of thought off of Shogi for a second, I look at the man sitting across the board from me right now, the Meijin.

–––So …… That’s what his face looks like.

It always seemed like he lived in another world. Right now, during the rematch of the fourth match, is the first time I’ve ever looked him square in the face.

Salt-and-peppery stubble has grown onto the chin of a tired middle-aged man playing Shogi late into the night.

His eyes are sunk pretty deep and surrounded by dark bags. Bloodshot, too. His mouth is hanging half open and I can hear soft groans coming from inside.

It’s much different from Chairman Tsukimitsu’s youth and refinement.

He certainly doesn’t have Mr. Oishi’s charming free spirit.

Of course, he’s no god. He just looks like a run-of-the-mill guy.

Seeing the Meijin like this …… 

–––So cool.

That’s my honest reaction.

Just like kids grow up idolizing the characters in anime and video games, he was my idol. Even now, sitting across from him, I admire him more and more with every move he makes.

He wasn’t born into special circumstances.

He doesn’t have some extravagant destiny to fulfill.

Born in a new suburb of Hachioji City in Tokyo, he went to public school and grew up like a regular kid on the block. Other than the fact that Shogi was the only thing he could think about, he was a normal boy. Even now, he rides the train to the association, swaying back and forth like everyone else. Having two daughters, his wife recently said on her Twitter account that he plays Pokémon Go wearing shorts around the house.

Just your average geezer. A kind father.

At the same time–––he’s a brave warrior.

A man who kept on fighting without getting bored, losing interest or losing a step the whole way.

No stage too big for him, he faced his opponents’ best strategies without fear and that courage is what destined him for victory, to become the best player in Shogi history.

Seeing him this close up, looking at him face to face for the first time …… I can’t help but look up to him.

I don’t think I’m stronger than he is.

I don’t think I have more talent, or that I could become like him.

But, that’s fine by me.

The Meijin is the Meijin, I’m me.

That’s why I play Shogi my way. Staring blankly at him in the middle of this neck and neck battle and only coming up with something so plainly obvious is pretty stupid, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

“After all, only death can fix stupid ……”

I smirk at myself, whispering under my breath. Then, in that exact moment …

The Meijin’s hand starts shaking before he puts a piece down in a place I never saw coming.

“?! …… Magic!!”

I knew it was an extraordinary move the moment I saw it.

These unexpected curveball sequences people call magic have opened the gates of hell in the late stages of the Meijin’s matches many times before, allowing him to pass back and forth between worlds whenever he wants. That’s the Meijin’s special talent.

It’s like when kids do something just out of curiosity, like destroying a wooden castle you’ve built together on a whim just to start over again and build something new from square one.

I’m in limbo, and he’s a demon that’s trapped me in a never-ending Shogi match hell.

Damn, Four-eyes is brutal! How can he physically keep going ……?!!

Anyone’s fighting spirit would snap in the face of a move that reset the whole match this far into the late game.

But.

…… Fine, then. Let’s do this!

The only thing the Meijin’s strange move did was stoke the fire already burning inside me.

There’s only one weapon that can deal with magic. I have it.

Clenching my jaw as tight as it would go, I read all the way up to the limit and smack that piece onto the board despite not reading all the way to the end!

“There–––how’s that?!!”

Energy pulsing, I grab a piece and swing that weapon as hard as I can.

The only one I have in my arsenal–––being stubborn and willing to get muddy: Kansai Shogi.

It’ll never have a name that sounds as cool as magic, but Kansai players like me aren’t going to lose to a few curveballs.

Standards can eat dirt. This is sudden-death Shogi. I don’t care if I end up like roadkill, I’ll tread water as long as it takes. Get as muddy as it takes. This stubborn fire can burn my insides to a crisp. I’ll keep playing until my heart stops beating!

“……… Intense ………”

I pull my collar open and vigorously fan my neck. My brain’s working so fast that it’s overheating and feels like it’s going to explode. I chug what’s left of my water and wipe my lips with the back of my hand. Sheer adrenaline has kept my nose from bleeding.

The Meijin narrows his eyes at my move and straightens his hair with his right hand. Then, he thumps his lower back with that same hand and groans in pain.

“Fifty seconds–––.” 

Rushed, the Meijin starts drawing Xs in the air. It almost looks like he’s praying to a god of some kind.

“…… Seven, eight, nine–––.”

He plays at the last possible second with his hand shaking the whole time. Not just his right, but his left hand clenched around his neck is shaking up a storm. Those trembling hands unleash another round of magic hellfire over the board and drag me further into purgatory … deeper into the torture known as never-ending one-minute Shogi.

“Intense!!”

Feeling the Meijin’s flames burning my skin, I play another stubborn, muddy move and step deeper into that purgatory on my own.

Into the board of fantasia.