Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 1 - Chapter 1.7

☗ REVIEW SESSION

“…… I lost.”

Hearing those words, I was dumbstruck.

How much stronger Ai was in the late game than I thought she’d ever be!

Above all I was dumbstruck by how much fun I had during the whole thing.

I haven’t had such a sweet and stimulating time since facing a top-top class pro in a Double Wing Attack in the Ryuo title match.

No one can play Shogi alone, obviously.

So a meikyoku, a match worth remembering, can never happen if either player is much stronger or much weaker than the other.

Both strategies have to clash at full force, both players keep the big picture in mind and continue making the best possible moves so that the victor is decided by the slimmest of margins and the defeated gracefully accepts their fate like a badge of honor.

That’s what a great match requires.

This match wasn’t one. It was too chaotic to qualify for that name.

However, no matter how highly skilled the players—even pros using the latest research—there is such a thing as a boring match of Shogi. A kind of match that cools the heart.

On the other hand, there are some matches that completely ignore the latest research and throw the standard style out the window to become a perverse variation of the game. That, along with crummy matches where both players make mistakes left and right, tend to get the audience fired up.

Just like words that remain unsaid, a style of Shogi that remains unplayed, no matter how much preparation has gone into it, can never inspire people.

Shogi matches that ignite the soul—where both players put their “hearts” into every move—have courage, fighting spirit, pride, but also fear, tenacity, will, passion, hope, despair and grit. They make the soul burn brighter and brighter.

And Ai’s Shogi reminded me what that feels like.

That Shogi could be this intense. That it was this much fun.

Losing became scary once I had the weight of Ryuo on my shoulders and started caring what was written on the Internet as well as what other people thought. For someone like me who avoided confrontation, choosing to play the safe way even against his own Master, it’s been ages since feeling this heat, since I enjoyed playing this much.

Numbed by eleven consecutive losses, my spirit is shaking, burning to the very core. Something is flickering in my chest, I can feel it.

“Uh, um …”

A nervous voice brings me out of my stunned train of thought at the end of the match.

“S- … Sensei, um …”

“Look here.”

“Huh?”

“What would you have done if I made this move?”

“Oh, well, um … this.”

Going back a few moves, we say what we were thinking at the time.

It’s a study method unique to Shogi called a “review session.”

Even pros don’t always make the best moves.

Time and endurance are limited, so the winner is decided by who made the least number of mistakes. We’re human after all.

“Shogi is a game where the one who made the last mistake loses.”

There’s a reason for this saying.

But we can relax during these review sessions, relive the match and see what the best move was without the pressure. We can pursue true Shogi without all the restrictions. It’s the most fun part of playing for me. A bit irritating after a loss though.

“… I see. You’re pretty strong.”

Confirming Ai’s ability to read the board, I’m impressed by her strength in the late game once again.

“Your early and mid-game strategy could use some work, but you have an excellent feel for the late game. You’ve also got a knack for choosing when and how to attack.”

“N-no, not really … um, thank you so much … Hehe♡”

“Do you do Double Wing Attacks often?”

“Often … well, actually, um …”

Ai shyly drops her head and quietly makes a shocking confession.

“This is the only way I know how ………”

“Say what?!”

Blushing, Ai leans forward to hammer her point home even as I shriek in disbelief.

“I saw your title match in person and was amazed! So I started playing Shogi myself! I wanted to play like you, Sensei, so I copied your style.”

“Hold up! … What? So what you’re saying is …?”

Her proclamation throws me for a loop.

The only opening formation she knows is the Double Wing Attack? So her only starting move is to advance the Pawn in front of the Rook? She’s that new to Shogi? What if her opponent used a Ranging Rook style?

No, before that: she started playing after seeing my title match … right?

“So, then … you’ve only been playing for three months?”

“U-um … Yes. Sorry …”

She must think I’m scolding her, giving a dejected apology like that.

No, no, no, no, no. This is … almost headline news.

A grade school girl who started playing Shogi three months ago challenged the Ryuo to a match with no handicap is an incident in and of itself, but the more startling news is that a grade schooler (practically a beginner) with the ability to put the Ryuo against the ropes in the late game even exists.

“Um … Sensei?’

“Eh? Oh, what is it?”

“M-My … My test … um …”

Eyes getting wetter by the moment, she keeps looking up at me only able to say “um” over and over.

“Test?”

“To be … um, your apprentice …”

“Oh, right.”

That’s what this was. Her entrance test. That’s right, that’s right.

I was going to turn her down either way, and completely forgot about it.

“Hmmm. Let’s see …”

Pretend to think really hard, taking her as an apprentice or not didn’t really seem to matter much anymore.

I just wanted to keep playing Shogi with this girl.

“I still don’t know enough to make a decision. So how about another match for now?”

“P-Please!!”

Her face brightening in the blink of an eye, Ai cheerfully starts lining up pieces.

Time absolutely flew by from there, the two of us continued to play Shogi without stopping to eat anything.

Until dawn. All the way through the night.