Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 11 - Chapter 2.3

  HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION

I may have forgotten what I ate my first time at Twelve, but I remember my first dinner as a live-in apprentice all too clearly.

Mountains of shiitake mushrooms.

“Yaichi. Do you have any favorite foods?”

“Curry!”

“Anything you don’t like?”

“Shiitake mushrooms ……”

“Okay. Thank you!”

Keika, still in her first year of high school and wearing an apron over her school’s blazer-style uniform, started humming to herself as she set to work in the kitchen.

She was always so nice to me from the moment we met: pretty, and the older sister that I, who only has brothers, had always dreamed of. And those huge boobs.

That’s why I thought she was going to take the shiitake mushrooms out for me, but …… I was very, very wrong.

“…………?!”

Words failed me as I looked out over the piles of mushrooms cooked up in every way possible for dinner that night.

Keika looked apologetic, but Master said very plainly, “Sorry about this. But, father said …… Competitors can’t succeed if they’re dealin’ with weaknesses. There is no need to start likin’ ’em, but we’re gonna eat mushrooms every day ’til ya can eat ’em without makin’ that face. Buckle up, kiddo.”

This wasn’t an original training strategy that Master came up with, but a traditional teaching method that pretty much every live-in apprentice in the Shogi world had to deal with.

The never run away mindset, even from food I didn’t like, was drilled into my head each and every day from the beginning.

As I plugged my nose and did my best to get the mushrooms past my tongue as quickly as possible, I couldn’t believe my eyes watching Big Sis slather sauce onto her mushrooms and eat them like it was no big deal.

“…… What food don’t ya like, Ginko?”

“None.”

Ginko Sora’s goal, first and foremost, was to defeat Kousuke Kiyotaki, the one who had given her a humiliating loss.

Now that the first stage of her plan for revenge, infiltrating the Kiyotaki household, was complete, her next move seemed to be reducing his fighting strength. She never complained about the food no matter what.

Though Big Sis did have a weakness–––.

“I spent all that time in the kitchen cooking for you, but you can’t even taste it through all that sauce, can you?”

“…………”

My very first day, I noticed that the only time Big Sis’s face ever showed any hint of emotion was when Keika lectured her like that.

Big Sis and Keika never seemed to get along in those days …… They needed about three years to grow closer than actual sisters.

It was bath time after dinner.

“What do you think, dad? Would it be a good idea to have Yaichi go in with Ginko?”

“Yeah. Ah, but join ’em today, would ya, Keika? Somebody’s gotta teach him how to use the shower.”

“Yes, I think so, too.”

Huh? …… Say what?!

“Yaichi, I’ll be joining you today, all right?”

“?! S- ……… Sure!”

And that’s how I ended up bathing with Keika on my very first night!

I know I’ve brought it up several times now, but she had just started high school at that point.

It’s just that six-year-old me saw her as a genuine grown-up and, even thinking about it now, she was mature for her age. I mean, Big Sis has started her first year of high school and she’s still smooth down there ……

Anyway, seeing Keika that night was too much for me to handle.

Which is why I stayed in the corner of the tub with my eyes shut tight …… That is, until Keika was finished washing Big Sis and kindly said, “Come on over here, Yaichi. I’ll wash your hair.”

“U-Umm …… I-I can do that myself–––.”

“Don’t be shy. It’s all right …… See?”

I was a little kid, but it was still really embarrassing and part of me felt like I was about to cross a line that should never be crossed–––.

M-Master told me to! This isn’t my fault!

I convinced myself to go over there and ended up letting Keika wash me from head to toe. Of course, I had my eyes closed the whole time.

“There we are. Squeaky clean.”

“Th- …… thank … you ……”

“Now, Yaichi. It’s your turn to wash me, okay?”

“?!”

The one getting washed can keep their eyes closed, but the one doing the washing has to look.

She handed me a sudsy sponge …… And I cautiously opened my eyes.

“Umm …… Uhhmmmm ……”

I love boobs.

But …… Big, wet ones glistening with bubbly soap, I love even more!

“Well? Do you think you’ll be okay just you and Ginko starting tomorrow?”

“I-I ……………… I’m not too sure ……”

That was the first lie I ever told after joining the Kiyotaki Shogi family.

“You’re not? Okay, the three of us can bathe together tomorrow, too!”

Keika, being the nice person she is, bathed with us the next night as well.

I felt so guilty about it after a few days, though, I told her, “I’m fine on my own now!”

Free time was after bath time. If Master wasn’t busy, I’d get instructional matches from him.

That being said, bedtime was 9 o’clock sharp.

“’Cause amateur and Sub League matches never last late into the night. Early to bed, early to rise for Shogi. Live by those words. There’ll be plenty ’o chances to stay up late when yer a pro.”

Everything in this household revolved around Shogi. There was a reason for every part of our daily routine, and it was all for one goal: get stronger at Shogi.

Except, falling asleep was really hard after a night of hard-fought matches.

Especially on the days I lost.

On those days, Big Sis would come over to my futon and read her favorite picture books and fairy tales to me.

“I’ll read you a story.”

For a four-year-old, Big Sis could read tons of Chinese characters.

I never heard all the details, but apparently Big Sis was such a weak kid that she’d spent most of her life in the hospital and always had her nose in a book when she was there.

Six-year-old me, on the other hand, only knew the Chinese characters written on Shogi pieces, numbers that show up in match records and the ones I needed to write my name. If you take away all the characters in my name that aren’t connected with Shogi—Ya ichi Ku zu ryu—you’re only left with zu meaning head. It was my one and only character outside of Shogi.

Big Sis and I often read a book called Elmer and the Dragon.

It’s a story about a boy named Elmer who rescues a baby dragon and they go on adventures together. The dragon still can’t fly very well.

It’s part of a series called My Father’s Dragon, but Ginko seemed to like this one the most and read it a lot.

“You see Elmer? He likes oranges. But the Dragon doesn’t like oranges.”

“Huh? Then what does he eat?”

“Orange peels.”

“The peel ……”

This story taught me many things like the beauty of friendship that spans species, the importance of supporting one another and how to go with your gut ……

Big Sis loved reading books, knew many Chinese characters and Master’s place was filled with Shogi magazines that had everything from classic playing styles to the latest strategies.

Those magazines were just stacks of paper to me because I could barely remember the hiragana and katakana alphabets used along with the Chinese characters to write Japanese. To Big Sis, however, they were treasure troves.

“I’m trying a Bishop Exchange strategy I read about, so you’re going second all day today, Yaichi.”

“Whaaa ……?”

“Close the Bishop Path and I’ll cut off your head.”

It’s only human to want to use a strategy you just read about in a book. The same way a martial artist wants to try out a new secret technique they just learned ……

Master saw what was happening and said, “That’s human experimentin’ right there.”

And he was right. I was a test subject.

Just a pitiful guinea pig. I had no rights. Because, well, I was an animal.

Big Sis tested standards and sequences she learned from books on me the same way the neighborhood bully would test out wrestling techniques he saw on TV on an unlucky kid. There were times she made me start playing from a certain formation. I couldn’t refuse. Because, well (see above).

Of course, I lost more times than I can count.

Just loss after loss after loss, followed by another loss. I couldn’t win at all.

I’d been treated like a boy prodigy in my hometown, so not being able to win a single match against a girl two years younger than me was more of an identity crisis than actual pain.

Simply put, what ended up happening was–––.

“Ginko is the prodigy. We’re totally different.”

I figured that out early on. I was losing, so it was obvious.

But Shogi wasn’t the only thing. Not only did she read so much more than I could despite being two years younger, the fact that she had this pristine beauty about her played a big part as well.

Basically, I started revering her like someone from a higher plane.

As a country boy from Fukui, that perfectness blew my mind.

I wanted to be something special to Ginko Sora, even if it was just as her pet.

I don’t need you anymore.

The thought of hearing those words scared me more than anything.

Which is why I, in desperation, committed myself solely to being useful to Big Sis.

I took every single one of the strategies she tried on me head on, desperate to come up with a counterstrategy that wasn’t in any of the books she’d read.

I wasn’t allowed to avoid the strategy altogether. But I also wasn’t allowed to lose the way the book said it would happen.

I have to be more useful to her than the books or magazines!

I had to become Big Sis’s Dragon.

These early childhood experiences were a huge factor in my power-based playing style that mixes in an unorthodox “bend but don’t break” style of defense.

Once Big Sis tried out all the interesting strategies she could find, she moved on to techniques that weren’t written in any books.

Off-the-board tactics.

Some were innocent enough, like holding taken pieces in her hand so I couldn’t see them or humming songs to distract me, but others–––.

Quietly knock the right Lance to the piece stand and use it later.

While reaching across the board to deploy a piece in the opponent’s territory, move a piece in your own territory while your arm is blocking their view.

There are tons of cheats like those.

It may sound childish like this, but even adults get fooled by them when they’re done at lightning speed.

You would get found out right away using them in league matches because it would be obvious on the match record, but anything goes if there’s no evidence. Shogi’s first rule is to let the opponent admit defeat. The proof disappears as soon as the pieces are put away.

On a side note, Ai Yashajin lost the first Queen Title Match against Big Sis after accidentally knocking her Lance onto her piece stand with the sleeve of her kimono. Big Sis has done this same thing many times on purpose, so of course she recognized it and set Ai up to deploy the piece and break the rule. To her, it was like taking candy from a baby.

At first, Big Sis secretly refined her cheating craft against the old geezers who often dropped by Master’s classroom.

Then, in matches where something was on the line ––– usually chores or snacks ––– she used them against me.

“Ah! Ginko …… That last match, you cheated, didn’t you?!”

“Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Daaang it! If that’s how you’re going to do it, two can play at that game!!”

I wasn’t about to just take it lying down, so I thought of all sorts of things. Then, Big Sis would come up with new ways to cheat that outdid mine.

I don’t mean to brag, but our sleight-of-hand skills got faster and faster every day. Even now, at the pro level, I’ve never seen anyone pull off a cheat as quickly as we could back then.

Master saw all this happening, but never said a word.

When it comes to Shogi techniques and perfecting new skills, you have no choice but to do it yourself.

If Master taught us all the ins and outs, we might have gotten stronger at the time, but it would’ve held us back in the long run.

You can never be the strongest if you’re always learning from someone else.

That’s why Master held back what he wanted to say and watched as we found our own ways to get stronger, even if they were cheats and off-the-board tactics.

However, there is a limit to everything. Big Sis and I became way too proficient in our cheating techniques.

Master had seen enough, so he brought Big Sis and I to a workshop that made boards deep in the mountains of Nara and told us about the Shogi gods.

“Gods?”

“’At’s right. If the Shogi gods got somethin’ against ya, ya ain’t never gonna turn pro. Certainly never be the Meijin.”

The smell of trees permeated the air and there were logs, thicker than I could believe even existed, piled up in well-organized stacks. It was a tranquil, almost mystic place.

Hearing about the Shogi gods in those majestic surroundings, I believed in them straightaway.

Even though the strange girl swinging around a plastic toy sword while yelling wiener and tally whacker at the top of her lungs ruined the mood ……

“The gods hate cheatin’ and off-the-board tactics. ’At’s why it’s better not to use ’em.”

“No. It’s your fault if you get tricked,” I believed, but Big Sis stubbornly refused.

“If there are gods, why don’t cheaters get punished?”

“The fight lasts forever. Can ya keep cheatin’ forever? Yer better off buildin’ up yar skills the ol’ fashioned way. It’d be faster, too.”

“Just do both. Get stronger at Shogi and better at cheats.”

“That ain’t possible.”

“Why?”

“Ginko. Wanna play me right here? Then ya’ll know why.”

“……?”

“I won’t use pieces. Ya can play however ya want, Ginko. Cheat if ya wish, or play fair ’n square if ya wanna.”

–––That’s right! No cheats will work on a mental Shogi board ……

While Master’s revelation hit me like a ton of bricks, I didn’t think he’d be able to play at full strength while playing blind.

Big Sis had her foldable Shogi board with her, as always, and they lined up the pieces. Master took away his Rook and Bishop to give her a two-piece handicap.

Big Sis lost. It wasn’t even close.

“Wh-Why ……? I won before ……!”

“Ya don’t get any stronger when ya cheat ’cause ya get so focused on what’s happenin’ off the board ’at ya can’t focus ’n what’s happenin’ on it. Not readin’ the board makes yar Shogi skill level drop. Obvious, no?”

“Ah ……”

“A match ’r ten won’t make much difference. But after 100, after 1,000 matches, anybody could see the difference.”

I thought he hit the nail right on the head.

Even I could tell that my Shogi felt a little strange once I started using off-the-board tactics. It didn’t matter how much I won because I wasn’t getting any stronger ……

“If it’s just this one match that ya gotta win, anythin’ goes. Cheatin’ is logical if it guarantees ya’ll get the win. But, ya know? We pros spend our whole lives fightin’. In that kinda world, stayin’ still’s the same as goin’ backward,” Master said as he put his hands on our heads. 

It almost sounded like he was saying it more to himself.

“That man who’s stronger than anyone else fights fair and square against unfamiliar opponents so that the Shogi gods’ll love him more than anyone else. It’s heroes like him ’at become champions.”

“………… There are no gods.”

Big Sis didn’t believe in the gods all the way to the end, but …… Master’s words must’ve reached her heart because she stopped cheating after that.

She and I were starting to figure out that Shogi wasn’t just a simple board game.

It wasn’t just fun, but went much, much deeper.