Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 3 - Chapter 1

  NEMESIS

This happened about one year and eight months ago.

“…… I lost.”

My first league match–––after turning pro–––ended in failure.

October. My last year in junior high.

Having advanced out of the Sub League to become only the fourth junior high school student professional Shogi player in history, I came to the Tokyo Shogi association in Sendagaya to make my pro debut.

“The first junior high pro in twenty-five years has arrived!”

The match was supposed to have taken place in Kansai against another person registered with that association. But since everyone was expecting the media to swarm in for the scoop, my match was moved to Tokyo instead.

Dressed in my school uniform and collar firmly clipped in place, I was enveloped in a flood of flashing lights once I entered the arena.

My opponent was in B League, 1st group, 7-dan.

A guy in his thirties. A veteran player with refined skills to match.

Normally someone in C-2 who just became a pro would be no match …… But then again, I was the first junior high pro in twenty-five years.

Everyone in the room was like “Maybe he can pull it off?” 

And even I was thinking, “Maybe I can? And isn’t going up against a B League opponent a bit boring? I came all the way to Tokyo … why not put me up against someone in A?” Honestly, I was overconfident.

The match itself …… was a hard-fought battle right out of the gate.

However, I caught a break in the late game when my opponent messed up.

If I had just kept a cool head, I would’ve won. But with all the journalists around and the hype that went into my debut match going to my head, I made an even worse mistake. Not only did my chance to put him in checkmate slip through my fingers, but he finished me with his next move. Out of all the ways to lose, this hurts the worst.

Yes, instant death.

“Kuzuryu 4-dan. What are your thoughts on the match?!”

“Was the professional wall just too hard to break in today’s loss?!”

“……”

It hurt too much to say anything, and my opponent’s next words drove me even closer to the edge.

“What, what? You mean you didn’t see that checkmate? It was a rather simple sequence if you ask me.”

“……”

“Looks like prodigies can fall flat on their faces much harder than normal folks can ever dream of! Wheew, that was a prodigy overlooking a checkmate? Genius! Looks like Kansai prodigies are of a different feather! I didn’t think a face plant like that was even possible.”

"UWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

"HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

I raced out of the Shogi association and passed Hatomori Shrine right next door at a breakneck speed, only stopping at the large Shibuya scramble intersection to wait for the light to change. The instant it did, I turned all of that built-up pain into energy, yelling from the bottom of my lungs and running forward as fast as my legs could carry me.

I thought about catching a train at Sendagaya Station, but the pain was so severe that I ran right by it and even the next one, Yoyogi Station, before I knew it and ended up running along the Odakyu-Odawara Line from Minami-Shinjuku all the way down.

“UWAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

I cried!

Tears and snot flying off my face. I cried and cried!

I ran!!

School backpack still strapped to my shoulders, my leather shoes pounded the asphalt as I ran like I’d never run before!!

“UWAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

It hurt so much!

It was so pitiful!

It was so embarrassing!

It wasn’t the loss that hurt. Going in so cocky was embarrassing. My weakness was pitiful. It was the only pro debut match I’ll ever have in my life and I didn’t play my best. That’s what hurt.

“UWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

It was dark before I came back to myself.

What’s more, a pitch-black ocean spread out in front my eyes.

I was dead set on jumping in and swimming all the way back to Osaka Port, but a guy who worked at a nearby surfing shop mistook me for being suicidal and stopped me.

I ended up running nonstop for eight hours after that match, going all the way from Sendagaya, Tokyo to Chigasaki in Kanagawa Prefecture. That’s 61.4 kilometers (I checked on Google Earth once I got home). My uniform was soaked with sweat and my leather shoes were in bad shape.

Chigasaki has warm water, so surfers hit the waves in winter quite a bit too. After I got there, I worked for the guy who saved me at the surfing shop, living there for a week. That’s when Big Sis came looking for me, but my spirit was still in pieces. I bartered.

“I’m done with Shogi! I’ll work here and become a surfer!!”

“Your head—on a pike.”

That was the end of it. I got dragged back to Osaka.

That’s how the curtain fell on the story of my pitifully painful pro debut loss, as well as my first time running away from home–––.

Afterward, all that pain and suffering became a springboard that launched me to victory in the Ryuo Title Match. And thus the youngest title holder in history—Yaichi Kuzuryu—came to be.

Now.

The reason I’m bringing up the past is–––

“Hm, hm, hehe♪ What fun. Playing against you, Yaichi, is just so much fun ……♪”

Because right now I’m sitting across the board from that very opponent.

Jin Natagiri 8-dan. Ranked fourth in A League.

He was in B-1 when I made my pro debut, but he rose all the way to A, 8-dan by throttling everyone he went up against in last year’s placement matches and now stands among the best of the best.

Being one of the Shogi world’s few truly devoted researchers, he fully comprehends a wide range of the latest strategies and sequences. He can play Static Rook, Ranging Rook, take the first move for the second, defend and attack …… A true All-Rounder.

He’s got a nickname too–––Switch Hitter.

“Sigh~ I’ve got butterflies! Will my narrow advance make it all the way through your defenses? Oh, the butterflies! Heheee ……!!”

Is this some kind of off-the-board strategy?

Mr. Natagiri’s bizarre ramblings are really throwing me off my game—it doesn’t help that he’s completely controlling the pace of our match. I hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Not only is he particularly good during the early game, he went first and drew me in with one of the latest strategies, resulting in a commanding lead early on.

We’re already in the late game, and he hasn’t let me go on attack even once. Seriously, he’s still advancing on to my side of the board while cutting off all my counterattacks before they happen. The Ryuo is down for the count.

“…… Ughhh ……”

I hold my head in my hands, groaning at my pitiful performance. All these bad memories are coming back.

The thing is, I didn’t just lose to him on my pro debut. I also lost to him in my first match after claiming the Ryuo title, the first of eleven straight losses. I still remember the article in the newspaper: Ryuo Beaten to a Pulp.

More painful memories come flooding in, squeezing my spirit almost to the breaking point …… But!

“…… Nn!!”

I’m going to hold out as long as I can and save every possible second of waiting time!

At this point, my only chance is to hope that my opponent messes up. It’s time to put the stubborn, muddy playing style Kansai players are known for to good use. If I can maintain even just a one-minute edge of waiting time once the final battle begins, I’ll have a chance to turn the tide ……!

Whether Mr. Natagiri knew what I was trying to do or not, he started leaning forward to get a better look at the board whenever his turn came around and would then speed up.

Now both of us are hovering over the board, leaning in.

I glace up for a moment and see Mr. Natagiri looking right at me. 

Then, he whispers, “You know something? Matches …… are a lot like romance ……”

 …… What the heck is this guy talking about right in the middle of a league match?

“Don’t you see? We spend the whole day so close to each other. Why … it’s almost like a date.”

“You …… have a point.”

Mr. Natagiri is way up in the Shogi world hierarchy, so a bottom feeder like me has no choice but to acknowledge him. 

He continues, “I’ve been thinking about you …… all night long …”

Say what ……?

“Actually, no. Since long before then. Since the moment that this match was determined, every single day … Every hour, every minute, I’ve been thinking about you … Learning all about you ……”

Learn …… ing ……?

“What strategy might you use today? What sequence would you prepare just for me? What clothes will you wear? Whose fan will you use? Will we get to eat lunch together? While I think about you, are you thinking about me the same way ……?”

“???”

Is he trying to provoke me by saying this weird stuff?

It’s the late game, so is this his way of making me lose focus? To make me mess up?

“Then there’s the match itself. The way you take off your glasses when you’re deep in thought, and I get to look deep into your real eyes. Don’t you just get butterflies? Or do you not get them the way I do ……? Oh, I was just so nervous.”

Crap, crap, crap, crapcrapCRAP!!

Huh?! Hold up, hold up?!

His nickname: Switch Hitter …… Is that what it means?!

I’m one bad jolt away from a panic attack, and he starts whispering to me through hot breaths.

“Yaichi ……”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you have … someone special?”

Switch Hitter asks something completely unrelated to Shogi but keeps up the feverish pace on the board. Haa …… Haa …… It’s like he’s gasping for breath over there. I look away out of reflex.

“Ah! That means you do have someone?! Could it be a girl? Or, just maybe–––.”

“!! ……!!”

I look over at the recorder in a desperate plea for help, but the Sub League member (♂) sitting there keeps his eyes firmly glued to the match record. Have a heart!

“…………!!”

I look back down at the board and put my hand on my cheek, acting like I’m thinking about something very hard when really I’m just making sure our eyes don’t meet.

I’m in no shape to think about Shogi right now, but I’m a pro player. Not only that, I hold one of only seven Ryuo titles. So, I put every ounce of concentration I have left to get the most out of every second and to focus on finding a way to come out victorious in the end. It’s time for muddy stubbornness to turn the tide!! Just when I’d finally flipped the switch …… I gotta take a leak ……!

An urge to race to the nearest restroom hit me like a tidal wave. I’ve still got a little bit of waiting time left, so I start to get to my feet to take care of business when–––

“Oh? Potty break? Want some company?”

Why are you trying to come with me?!

“……!!”

My waist hovering over my ankles, I put both hands down on the tatami mat and endure the growing pressure in a Crouching Style Shogi stance. 

Mr. Natagiri mumbles, “Ah, so you’re not going,” and looks back down at the board. “Why don’t you go!!?”

There’s a restroom right outside each of the arenas in the Black Corridor, the fifth floor of the Kansai Shogi Association.

However, such a short distance has never felt so far away …!

At this point, the only way I’m going to get to go to the john is to finish this match. It’s too dangerous to go in there with the Switch Hitter. I cannot let that happen. Which means, I have no choice but to end this.

“…… I will win!”

Enough stalling. I’ve bet everything on a wing and a prayer.

I went in for the counteroffensive, which seemed to surprise Mr. Natagiri as well, but he charged out to greet me head-on. We trade blows back and forth using no time at all. There wasn’t even time to put the pieces firmly into place, each move making a loud snap! The pieces are barely inside the lines.

“…… Intense!”

An overexaggeration leaks from the recorder’s mouth. I’m the one trying not to leak!

Then–––

“Ah …… I lost!”

At the very end, when my last offensive had been completely cut off and I read that I’d come up one move short, I threw in the towel once my opponent moved in.

“…… So, Yaichi.”

Paying no attention to my current situation, the victorious Mr. Natagiri calls me by my first name and suggests out of the blue, “My hotel isn’t too far from here … Why don’t we go there and have our own private review session–––?”

“Sorry, no can do, goodbye!!” I yell, jump to my feet, and hold it in as I bolt out of the association.

Three minutes later.

“…… Ahhh~~~. That’s better ……”

I made it all the way back to my apartment without any leaks and, finally, relief.

If I hadn’t been able to hold it during the match, the Internet chat rooms would’ve roasted me alive. Thanks to a certain Master of mine peeing out of the association window, I’m already stuck with that image …… 

“Whew …… I’m so glad I live this close to the association. And the second floor too. Suppose I owe Big Sis a thank you for that ……”

She invited herself along when I started looking at apartments and simply said, “Here.” Never mind that the room is in my name, she ignores everything I say and treats it like her own place.

She lets herself in to play Shogi whenever she wants, uses the kitchen whenever she wants, leaves her own shampoo and toothbrush here all the time, borrows my shirts and wears them around, etc., etc. It’s hard to tell who’s the real master of the house. 

“The younger brother’s apprentice’s stuff belongs to his big sister too.” That’s her policy. Who is she: the queen?!

Then again, she doesn’t drop by anywhere near as much now that I have a live-in apprentice.

But, anyway–––.

“I hope I wasn’t rude. He’s one of the top players, after all. But, wait, the way he was acting during the match really didn’t seem like an act, so maybe he really is that way ……?”

Even now I’ve got chills. Shaking from head to toe …… 

“If I remember right …… I’m scheduled to play him again in …… three weeks?”

Honestly, I don’t think I can win. Today marks my third loss in a row.

“I know it’s not good to dread going up against one person in particular … But it feels like focusing on him would be much worse … But seriously, which side is he, really? Ayumu might know something … Wait, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would be interested in gossip, so maybe Ryou Tsukiyomizaka would be better–––.”

Thinking things through, I walk into the tatami room and see … 

 … my apprentice sprawled out on the floor.

“………… Ai?”

Her face flat on the mat and backpack still strapped to her shoulders, my apprentice doesn’t respond to my voice whatsoever.

“Ai! What’s wrong?! Ai!!”

I rush to her side and prop her up against my knee. It looks like her tiny chest is rising and falling. Thank goodness, she’s alive!

But she looks very weak.

Why in the world ……?!

After calling out to her over and over again, Ai’s eyes open ever so slightly and she reaches a trembling hand toward my face.

“M …… Master ………” Then, putting the last bit of her strength into forcing words out of her mouth, she says, “…… B ………”

“B?!”

“……… Big ……… bath …………”

 …… Bath?