Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 1 - Chapter 3.9

☖ THE WAY HOME

“Whoa! It’s freezing!!” 1 shout in surprise upon stepping outside the association, shivering. Naniwa Street is really busy during the day, but there isn’t a soul around. It’s already past five in the morning. It’s already tomorrow, practically morning.

The match ended at 3:48 in the morning and lasted 402 moves.

Ayumu nearly hit his head the moment he bowed out. The record keeper and I carried him down to one of the lodging rooms on the third floor to put him to bed and answer questions for the reporter. When all was said and done, the clock said five.

“… Sheesh. Nobility fights you all the way to the end.”

“Master, that was a great match!” said Ai, coming out of the association right behind me and whoosh! salutes.

Well, she’s surprisingly energetic: bouncing off the walls.

“Ai … Aren’t you sleepy?”

“I usually get tired around nine! But I’m wide awake today!”

“That’s only because your brain was working so hard during the match so it doesn’t realize that your body is tired.”

I’m unusually chatty as well as the two of us walk toward my apartment.

“That’s where a lot of people go out for drinks after a late-night match to unwind, or let off steam with a game of mahjong.”

“Master, you’re still too young to drink, right?”

“And I’ve got no clue how to play mahjong.”

“Then how do you relax?”

“I … do this. Wander around the streets of Naniwa for a while …”

“That’s even more troubling than drinks and mahjong!”

Indeed it is.

During our walk I asked Ai why she had stayed at the association.

It all happened just about how I expected. Ai begged Keika to let her watch my match to the end, and Keika asked Master Kiyotaki, who gave his permission. Master wanted to reward Ai for her enthusiasm. And, of course, Master’s the one who pulled the strings so that she could watch from the board-side table.

I can’t even be mad at her.

After all, she’s basically the reason I won.

“So, what’d you think? Learn anything from watching a pro match up close and personal?”

“It was amazing! Coming back from that far behind … I knew you could do it, Master!!”

“Ha-ha-ha. But it was one hell’a muddy☆match!”

Normally, a whole match record fits on one sheet of paper, but I think you’ll be able to tell just how stubbornly I held on by the fact that today’s record keeper needed to start a third sheet. Apparently, we played more moves than any pro official match in the postwar era.

“Shogi is a game of comebacks. The last one to make a mistake loses.”

“But, to mess up when that far ahead …? There were so many ways he could win, right?”

“That’s exactly why he messed up.”

“Fheeeh …? What, what does that mean?”

“There’s no guesswork when there’s only one way to win, especially in a close game. But when you have so many options, you get stuck trying to figure out which one is best.”

“Ah …!”

“And flukes can happen where there are so many choices. So I made a few bad moves on purpose and left two spots exposed. All on purpose!”

“T-That’s incredible, Master!! Getting your opponent to make a mistake by leaving yourself open … Like a real risk taker!!”

“Well, thinking about it logically, there’s nothing you can do against two fronts at once (lol).”

“Then isn’t that a bad idea? (>-<)”

“I won, so it’s all right. All because I won.”

I doubt this kind of cheap trick would have worked against Ayumu the way he normally is.

That’s why I had to use a second strategy that I had sealed away. I took advantage of Ayumu’s weakness, pushing him to the point where he might make mistakes.

“But professional matches are really something else! I can’t believe you can put that much time into a single Shogi match!”

“Because we can start in the morning and keep playing until the next day. Bet you never thought it would go this late, yeah?”

“Nope! And how you yelled all these lines back and forth out of nowhere like that was really cool!”

“Well, usually no one says much of anything!”

Sir Ayumu’s a talker. Then again, pretty much everything about that guy is strange.

Like how he’ll give his opponent a pep talk in the middle of a match. Really … Really strange guy.

“Oh, and Master.”

“Yeah?”

“What was God-sensei’s weakness you were talking about at lunch?”

God-sensei?

“… His family runs a tofu business in Fukagawa and he’s been going to high school until this month. He already graduated though.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Helping a family business produce and sell tofu, he’d have to get up pretty early, right? And he’d have to keep a strict schedule, going to school and all.”

“Okay ……”

“So, he gets sleepy late at night. I knew he’d start messing up if I dragged the match into the late evening hours.”

“Th … That’s a weakness?!”

“I took advantage of the mistakes he made, didn’t I?”

It’s not just Ayumu. All school-age Shogi players have to deal with it.

And not only did I not go to high school, I live by myself. Since I don’t have to abide by any schedule, I’ve already conquered that weakness!

“That’s why most Shogi players become night owls once they turn pro. In the old days, masters would force their apprentices to play mahjong at night to toughen them up.”

As good as that sounds, I’ve also heard stories that it was just so that the masters had enough players.

To be honest, stubbornly stalling a match into the early morning hours just to exploit a weakness isn’t worthy of praise.

“Wanted to win that badly, did he?”

“A titleholder relying on off-the-board techniques? Disgraceful. What trash.”

I’m sure comments like that are flying back and forth on the Internet right now. It actually was a horrible way to play …

“… I’m scared to look at Ch 2 Meijin … Afraid to look at Mr. Climbing Silver too …”

“Master? Are you shaking? Are you cold?”

“I’m, fine … Just fine …”

I know my stomach is going to hurt if I look, but I just can’t help it. I turn on my smartphone and search my own name. Does this mean I’m sick?

The net is up in flames, just as I expected. People are calling me more names, typing with more ferocity than ever before.

It’s all there————but.

“But today’s match was fun to watch, don’t you think?”

I stop scrolling, my finger planted on top of words that I never expected to see.

“I was on the edge of my seat right to the end.”

“Yeah, I enjoyed that.”

“At last, I can take a bath.”

“Nice match you guys!”

… I played horribly, much worse than usual.

But for some reason, their words are much warmer than usual.

Just what is a playing style worthy of a titleholder … Worthy of a Ryuo? I still don’t know. I can’t play a kind of Shogi I don’t understand.

In that case, I should stop worrying about it. Just play my own style of Shogi. Be the muddy, stubborn outlaw who refuses to give up. If I can keep winning that way, then I’m sure that there will be people coming out of the woodwork who accept my style. Just like today. For sure.

I stop walking, lost in my train of thought when——.

“Master!”

Ai, who had already reached the other side of the crosswalk, spun to face me with her arms open wide like wings.

“I want to play Shogi just like you real soon!”

“…… All right then.”

Seeing that pure little angel of a girl reminded me of a feeling I’d forgotten.

The day that my father taught me how to play Shogi.

The day that I first played Master Kiyotaki in that teaching match.

The day that I met Big Sis at Master’s house and played Shogi until my fingernails cracked.

The day I first walked through the Kansai Shogi Association doors holding Master’s hand.

The day that Big Sis and I wanted to keep playing in the classroom, shouting “I don’t wanna go home” over and over again.

The smile I wore the day that I won consecutive matches.

The tears after losing them all.

Didn’t Big Sis and I always play Shogi to our hearts’ content until the sun went down and go home hand-in-hand?

Those days of loving Shogi for what it was, pure enjoyment of the game came back to life seeing Ai like this.

I suppose if I can feel this way every day——.

“… Maybe taking an apprentice wouldn’t be so bad.”

Ai had been hopping forward on one leg until she suddenly turned around and put her hand to her ear.

“Master? Did you say something?”

“Nothin’!”

Lacing my fingers behind my head, I looked up at the brightening sky.

We’ll be back at my apartment any moment.

There’ve been more days when I haven’t wanted to go back to that cold, almost empty apartment after late-night matches since I went pro and started living on my own.

There’ve been times when I wanted to disappear into the darkness once the losing streak started. I was afraid to see the sunrise. Afraid of my next match. I hated seeing the Shogi board in my room so much that I hid it in the closet.

But now, I want to get home as quickly as possible.

Grab a quick bite to eat, take a bath, hit the sack.

And then play some more Shogi.