Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 1 - Chapter 1.1

☗ WRINKLED PANTS

After that, we called my Master’s daughter to the Shogi Kaikan and she (barely) managed to get him back into his boxers and forced him into a taxi. We saw them off.

“They’ve gone.”

“… Indeed.”

Just Ginko and l, watching the taxi drive away.

The staff members start coming up to me now that I’m finally free from the ordeal but they look like they weren’t really sure what to say.

“Kuzuryu-sensei, Sora-sensei, I’m sure it’s been a trying day. We’ll handle the rest so …”

“No. We’ll finish this ourselves,” Ginko said flatly.

The chore of cleaning up all of that splattered urine was still waiting to be done.

“I-I must protest … This isn’t a job the two of you are meant to do.”

“A Master’s shame is an apprentice’s burden to bear.”

“But …”

The guy kept protesting to the bitter end, but got called away to take care of something else. So the job fell to us in the end anyway and we went back inside the building. The Shogi community is busy again today.

The instant Ginko got a mop and a bucket from another staff member, she turned right around and gave them right to her little brother: none other than me.

“Why only me?!”

“Divvying up duties. I’ll go issue an apology for the trouble.”

“Oh? As a titleholder, going out in public should be my responsibility—.”

“A title? I also have a title.”

Yes, she’s right. Two of them even, gah …!

She turns her back to me, sailor skirt twirling at her waist, and says, “I wish to offer a heartfelt apology to everyone affected by today’s events. Those wishing to issue a claim, please contact the Japanese Shogi Association Headquarters for further information——.”

She finishes with a bow. People passing through stop for a look and start excitedly whispering to each other.

“Hold it! Are you … d-don’t tell me, Naniwa’s Snow White?!”

“…”

“I saw you on TV! Can I have your autograph?!”

Big Sis, surrounded in the blink of an eye. Well, somebody’s popular.

“Squee! She’s so cute!”

“Wow, Snow White really is snow white!”

All the girls love her. Heeey over there. The Ryuo is right here! Even taking off my glasses doesn’t get anyone to notice me.

“Naniwa’s Snow White,” is Ginko’s alias.

It was started by some Shogi magazine but really took off when there was a piece on TV about her last year. I may have been a junior high pro and the youngest Ryuo in history, but I’m constantly hidden in her fame’s shadow. Gah …”

By the way, she doesn’t like her alias at all.

Only in junior high school, she said she “doesn’t need” the nickname “Naniwa’s Snow White” even though it’s more recognizable than “Naniwa’s Rocky” and “Naniwa’s Mozart” here in Osaka. It really rubs her the wrong way: although I’d be willing to bet most people would love to be in her shoes.

It’s proof of both her popularity and skill in the world of Shogi. Only real star players get dubbed a nickname. People like The Man Who’s Always 100 Million and Three Steps Ahead in One Second and The Early Game Edison and Wizard of the Final Curtain and Power of Youth and Virtuous Advance and Crouching Monk and Standard Preacher and Wood-Chopping Paul Bunyan and others are spine-chillingly cool. Now you might be thinking: wood chopping? That’s got nothing to do with Shogi! Just Wood! But it strikes a real cord with the more refined Shogi fans.

“Haa … Such a pain.”

Her impromptu autograph session coming to a close, Ginko opens a parasol and lets out a long sigh.

“The annoying thing about having titles is that these things happen all the time …”

“Such an embarrassment of riches you have there, Sis.”

“Want your head on a pike?”

Oh, and by the way, both her titles are from women-only tournaments.

Six in all. My senior holds “Queen” and “Women’s Throne.” So “Princess” as an alias but “Queen” as a title: ironic, isn’t it (lol)?

Claiming all the titles isn’t some far-off dream for someone with her abilities, but she can’t with the rules how they are. I’ll get into that later, so look forward to it!

“Yaichi, stop twiddling your thumbs and start. Get it over with.”

“Take a look around, he wizzed all over the place …”

“Shogi players’ hands move before opening their mouths.”

Sure, sure. I buck up and start mopping.

“But my word, that incontinent geezer …! How the heck did he hit all the way over there?! How many liters did he spew?!”

“Can’t be helped. Everyone drinks lots of water during matches.”

It’s often said that the body craves sugar when the mind kicks into high gear, but Shogi players tend to find themselves craving something a bit more vital when choosing their next move.

Water.

Some players will bring upwards of five two-liter bottles to their matches and many will drink a whole cup between moves toward the end, meaning a lot of trips to the john.

To be a pro Shogi player is to be in a constant battle with your bladder and, all kidding aside, there’s a very real possibility of forfeiting a match because time ran out while in the restroom. I think I’ve spent enough time talking about pee.

“Apparently, regulation Go matches have built-in potty breaks. Now if only the Shogi World would catch on.”

“Weak …”

“Huh? You calling me weak, Big Sis? Okay then, what would you do if you couldn’t hold it in anymore?”

“Let it flow.”

“……?”

“Wetting yourself is nothing compared to the shame of losing a match, yes?”

She’s serious.

“Shogi is a battle of life and death, is it not? It’s a duel where only one comes out alive. There’s no time to worry about a little pee when your life is on the line.”

“You have so much in common with Master, it’s amazing.”

“Your head, on a pike.”

It pains me, but I’ve got to respect that. What is she, a feudal warlord? A girl like that would dominate the women’s Shogi world, no sweat.

Evening was upon us by the time she’d finally given me the okay. Thus, my long affair with the wiz fountain came to an end. And no, there are no bittersweet feelings.

“Yaichi.”

Big Sis stops me just as I was about to return the mop and bucket—and wraps her arm around my neck.

“I’ll give you … a treat.”

“Say what?! A-a treat, from you …? What in the world would—.”

“Here you go.”

Then she draped something stiff and starchy around my shoulders. Master’s suit pants.

“Why the hell would I want this?! What in blazes would I do with it at home?!”

“Take a whiff?”

“Why?! What kind of pervert would take his Master’s pants home to enjoy the smell?!”

“It’ll be a good memento.”

“Memento? Of what?! To induce nightmares about today every time I see them?!”

“The knee.”

Ok, that was unexpected. I stop and unfold Master’s pants.

The right knee is all wrinkled up but the left is nice and smooth.

“Rather than jumping at the first strategy that comes to mind, Shogi players resist the urge by squeezing their pants. That’s why a right-handed player’s right pant leg is always wrinkled, same for the left-handed ones but on the opposite side … Yes?”

Hearing her say that makes me glance at my own knees.

Sure enough, only the right side is wrinkled.

A Shogi player’s gut instincts are right seventy percent of the time. It’s pretty common for the first strategy they come up with to carry the day.

But the other thirty percent will snatch defeat from the claws of victory.

Especially when you think to yourself, “It’s perfect!” and charge straight ahead without thinking, turning your “perfect idea” into a horrible one. A lot of players end up losing that way every once in a while.

That’s why we endure.

Fight off the urge to make the move right away by squeezing our pants and read what’s on the board.

All these wrinkles are proof that Master didn’t hold anything back during the match. Irrefutable evidence that he took it seriously despite playing against his apprentice.

“… We used to copy that all the time, making these wrinkles.”

“… That we did.”

“We wanted to be like him so bad that we’d squeeze our right pant leg like he did, even when we weren’t playing, just to get the wrinkles.”

“And got yelled at right away for ruining our pants.”

The two of us force smiles, reminiscing about our younger days when we’d do anything to look like a pro.

Ginko hides her face behind her parasol and says, “… I think Master was happy to play against you. Probably been getting ready for a long time … Put in as much preparation as a league match, just as much focus and determination too. I think he gave you everything he had. So—.”

“… Yes. I know he did.”

I nodded and give Master’s pants a firm squeeze. I can tell by looking at the wrinkles: tell how he felt during our battle and how he felt doing what he did afterward.

Today, one of Shogi’s holy sites was blessed with a trickle of holy water.

It could very well have been Master’s passionate tears …