Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 12 - Chapter 1.6

  SUMITO SAKANASHI

“Hey. Long time, Sakanashi.”

Beneath the tracks at Fukushima Station.

At a sushi restaurant so cramped there’s only room for a counter.

Waiting for me at this-hole-in-the-wall restaurant is–––my opponent for tomorrow’s 3-dan division match.

“It has been a while. And …… thank you, Mr. Kagamizu.”

About a week ago now, I sent him a message.

“If you have the time, why don’t we meet at the usual place?”

He never responded, nor did I expect a response. The chances he would come here today were 50-50 at best.

But Hiuma Kagamizu greets me with a smile just like he always does.

“I thought you’d show up pretty soon, so I put in an order for you. You like sardines, right?”

“…………… Thanks.”

For a minnow who lost four straight matches to start this season of the 3-dan division like myself, eating another weak creature feels like cannibalism. However, I cannot refuse a senior Sub League member’s kindness. Taking a seat, I help myself.

Taking a bite out of his shirauo gunkanmaki, a ball of rice wrapped with seaweed and topped with an icefish that’s named after a battleship, Mr. Sakanashi strikes up a conversation.

“We live in a strange world. Everything’s a competition, including the sushi. We tend to pass up on minnows and end up choosing barracuda or seabass. Even little superstitions, like thinking sanma mackerel is good luck because it sounds like sanman— a quick advance—in mah-jongg, are all over the place.”

“…… As silly as they sound, I found myself following those superstitions before I knew it. Are they part of competition?”

“Heh …… I wonder.”

“Though, you aren’t a typical Sub League member. Who would normally sit side-by-side with their soon-to-be opponent and eat sushi?”

“Well, I am at the top. You do have a point, though. Anyone willing to be buddy-buddy with a guy they’re about to face in the 3-dan division probably isn’t normal.”

Setting aside the fact that we are both facing matches that decide if we promote or are forced to retire, a true do-or-die late-game situation, even players on the best of terms will avoid each other the day before they play. That’s only natural.

“It’s just, turning down an invitation wouldn’t be normal for me. You knew that when you sent me that message, right, Sakanashi?”

“…… I did.”

Divided by East and West, Mr. Kagamizu and I are not particularly close, which is why we’re not on a true first name basis.

This routine of ours all started on one fateful day.

“I happened to run into Kuzuryu on the way here. He and Sora were playing a bizarre kind of hide-and-seek.”

“What is going through their heads ……?”

“Seeing them like that, having sushi together right before regular activities, seems like nothing at all. Kansai truly is a different world.”

Three years ago.

After allowing the birth of Yaichi Kuzuryu 4-dan, I was in a terrible rut.

No matter how sick I was of hearing about the exploits of that junior-high-school-aged professional, there was no escape. The youngest title challenger in history claiming it …… And every time I heard about him, I couldn’t help but remember the move that sealed my fate.

“If only I had made this move instead ……”

Maintaining a stable state of mind while having constant flashbacks to a lost match is impossible. My next season in the 3-dan division was a disaster.

Since I had hit a wall, I decided to do something out of the ordinary.

Travel to the Kansai Shogi Association on a whim.

It wasn’t to hunt down and extract some sort of revenge on Kuzuryu. The idea just came to me one day …… and I was on a bus for Osaka that night.

It pulled up in front of Osaka Station bright and early the next morning and I walked to the Kansai Association in the Fukushima district. Cautiously peeking into the Player’s Room, I found ……

Hiuma Kagamizu was sitting at a table and greeted me with a friendly smile.

“Well, if it isn’t Sakanashi? Would you be willing to teach me a thing or two in a match?”

I lost in the most pathetic fashion. I doubt I even advanced to his side of the board.

That wasn’t all.

That was also the day I faced a still kyu-ranked member of the Sub League, Sota Kunugi, the first time. Rumors about him had reached me in Kanto, but …… He was so strong I could only laugh at myself after losing ten 10-second speed matches in a row.

There are people stronger than me.

They have fought harder and suffered more than I have.

Yet they can’t promote to 4-dan.

Once that realization hit me …… all the scenarios that had been running through my mind seemed insignificant and I finally was able to focus on the Shogi in front of me again.

“That day …… When I saw you in the Player’s Room playing Shogi so early in the morning, I realized what I was lacking. You have my thanks.”

“You were strong the whole time, Sakanashi. One look at a player’s match records and you can tell how much research they do, yeah? I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to learn something.”

He’s being nice, but I know most of that is a lie.

I may have regained my form now, but there was nothing he could have gained from playing against the shell of a man I was three years ago.

“I also need to thank you for this season.”

“Hm?”

“When I was overwhelmed with despair after starting the season with four consecutive losses and couldn’t stand the sight of a board …… You happened to be in Kanto and told me that there was still plenty of time and to keep my head up. It’s thanks to you that I got my head on straight. I wanted to thank you in person.”

“Hey, where’d that come from? Thank me all you want, but we’re still splitting the check.”

“After my losing streak, I decided to get a driver’s license. A person with minimal education who can’t drive stands next to no chance of finding employment, now do they?”

“Are you quitting?”

Mr. Kagamizu seems surprised.

“Finish with a winning record and you can extend your time in the Sub League, just like I did.”

“That’s alright. I’ve decided that this year will be my last.”

“…… I see.”

He doesn’t tell me to reconsider.

My sending him that message probably gave him some idea that I was planning to move on.

“…… You’ve got guts, Sakanashi. Really.”

“Me? You’re the one who has fought tooth and nail to extend your career–––.”

“No. I’m just scared, that’s all,” he says, almost aggressively. 

I certainly wasn’t expecting that tone.

“Shogi has become so ingrained into my life that I’m scared to go into the outside world. My heart hasn’t been in Shogi for years. That’s the same as quitting.”

“But, Mr. Kagamizu, you–––.”

“I worked as a match recorder the day after I promoted to the 3-dan division. It was the Meijin against Tsukimitsu-sensei, their golden card match. It was so much fun, and the match was so intense, I wondered if I would be recording that match for the rest of eternity ……”

Mr. Kagamizu whispers as if trying to get the words off his chest.

So I sit quietly and encourage him to continue.

“Tsukimitsu-sensei asked me if I had any thoughts during the review session. Since I was recording everything, I decided to explain the sequence I had in my head and this time it was the Meijin who said, ‘Oh. What a nice idea.’ …… That meant the world to me.”

I can relate, painfully so. That is the highest praise a match recorder can receive.

“But, even working as a match recorder before my first season of the 3-dan division ever started …… From lunch break on the first day, there was part of me that was thinking: man, sitting on my ankles so long really hurts.”

“……!”

“Surprising, isn’t it? I wondered how long it’s been since my heart drifted away from the game, but I could never place it …… I was stunned.”

“But you have the top position right now! Your Shogi, there’s an edge to it that no one else has …… You can’t expect me to believe your heart isn’t in it!”

“Well, I did make a promise.”

“A promise ……? To whom? What about?”

“…………”

He doesn’t answer.

It must be very personal. I won’t press any further.

“If I may ask, is it true that Sota Kunugi lost to Sora?”

“Sure is.”

“This may not be my place to say, as I surrendered a come-from-behind loss to Sora in the opening match of the season, but …… That shouldn’t be his match to lose, right? Just what was the problem?”

“He’s probably still a bit naïve and held back.”

“What for? Out of concern for Sora after her three-match losing streak?”

They don’t seem particularly close to me ……

Again, Kunugi is just an elementary school student. His skill is more than sufficient, but there are plenty of examples that show his mental maturity may not suffice. At this rate, he may find himself in a downward spiral before promoting to 4-dan–––.

“Look at you, 25-year-old Sumito Sakanashi. Have you risen so high up that you’ve got the time and energy to worry about an 11-year-old prodigy?”

“……! I wouldn’t say I’m worried ……”

“You’ve got Karako first tomorrow, right? That man laid the foundation for what the Kansai Sub League is today. His style may be old, but his fighting spirit is as strong as they come. Don’t take him lightly.”

“What, the Karako Theory? I admit that Kansai stubbornness has given me plenty of headaches over the years.”

“Heh. I hope that’s all it does ……”

That’s all? What does he mean by that?

“Excuse me, can we get a final round?”

Almost as if the sushi chef behind the counter was waiting for this exact moment, he pulls out two plates and sets them down in front of us.

“Fried egg roll sushi.”

People in the sushi industry call it gyoku. That strikes a cord to Shogi players, who use the same word for the King, and overlap the meaning with taking a lunch break by saying “gyoku wo toru,” or “take the king.” …… It’s a bit forced, in my personal opinion.

I eat mine all in one bite.

Mr. Kagamizu, on the other hand, slowly sinks his teeth into the fried egg sushi and savors it.

“Let’s play a good match tomorrow. One that …… we can both leave without any regrets,” Mr. Kagamizu says as we leave the restaurant. 

With that, we shake hands and part ways.