Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 3 - Chapter 2.5

  A DETERMINED DRESS-UP DOLL

“Sorry to call you over here like this, Ginko.”

“It’s alright. You said you wanted to talk?”

Two days after I received the B, Ginko and I sit down for a chat in my home’s tatami room.

My father …… my Master is at the association for a match, so it’s just the two of us here now.

Rather than beating around the bush, I get right to the point.

“The other day at the Practice League …… I got a B.”

“…… Yes.”

She’s not surprised. I bet she already knew.

“I had been winning on and off since getting promoted to C-2, but nothing’s going right these days …… So, I wanted to talk to you about it. I don’t have much time left–––.”

I can stay in the Practice League to become a Women’s League player until my twenty-seventh birthday.

The end of the month: that’s my time limit.

Right now, I’m twenty-five years and seven months old, which means I have less than a year and a half.

The Practice League meets once every two weeks, four matches each time.

That’s 108 matches per year. So, I have about 160 in that year and a half.

Since I’ll get promoted if I win six matches in a row, it looks like I’ve got plenty of chances left.

But …… I’ve already been in the Practice League for seven years.

I had a chance to go up to C-1. Back when I was twenty-one.

I let that chance go away.

Because of my mistake, my opponent came from behind to win.

“Another chance will come up in no time!”

Back then, I was optimistic about the future.

“I can be in the Women’s League at twenty-two, when my classmates are graduating from university!”

I believed in that possibility.

But rather than looking for another chance, a slump, the likes of which I’ve never had, hit me like a ton of bricks.

I didn’t know how to pull myself back up after falling down. Although I managed to avoid demotion three times, the fourth finally got me.

From C-2 down to D-1–––.

“…… I, can’t do this anymore.”

Back then, I was twenty-four.

Long past when I thought I’d be a Women’s League player at twenty-two, the words age limit began to feel a lot more real.

At the same time, a little boy I’d once lived with became a Shogi professional in junior high school and a little girl I’d once lived with passed over the Women’s League altogether, claiming titles of her own and climbing toward becoming the first-ever female professional … getting closer every single day.

I couldn’t move forward no matter what I did. Meanwhile everyone else was leaving the nest, flying off into a bright world. Then my former classmates were all getting jobs, getting married and starting their lives in society.

“Should I quit? But …… what else would I do ……?”

By the time I knew what happened, it was too late to turn back. 

It felt like I’d been abandoned on a deserted island. Looking up at the sky, I could see Yaichi flying away, bound for someplace off in the distance …… He stood at the top of the Shogi world.

I fought as hard as I could, but even with all that momentum behind me I turned twenty-five by the time I returned to C-2. I knew this was my last chance, so I put my nose to the grindstone and researched like my life depended on it.

Right along with the best professional Shogi players, I memorized books written on standard strategies and absorbed all the latest styles like a sponge. Every spare moment I had was spent at a Shogi classroom or online playing a match. I kept every single match record and used software to find my best and worst moves.

“I couldn’t possibly prepare any more than this! I’ve studied more Shogi now than I ever have in my life!!”

Yes, I could be proud of how much effort I put into it.

I worked and worked, worked so hard that my whole life revolved around Shogi.

And now–––rather than going up, I’m in danger of getting demoted yet again.

“Losing all the time is painful but …… not being able to progress, no matter how hard I try, is worse. I don’t even know what direction I’m going anymore …… And knowing that I’m not going anywhere makes it feel like what I’m doing is pointless, and I can’t focus on studying ……”

I spit out all the dark, negative thoughts that had built up inside me in one solid stream. Ginko just sat there silently, listening to every word.

But there’s something besides always losing that’s putting more pressure on me.

Ai.

A little girl who caught the Ryuo’s attention with her talent. Then she proceeded to go down a path, which took me seven years to travel, in no time at all.

Her being that way, her talent …… I’m clearly jealous, and that makes me angry.

“What do you think of my playing style? Why do you think I can’t win anymore? What do you ……?” I gulp down the air in my throat as I prepare to expose my darkest, ugliest feelings and say, “What do you think is the difference between Ai and me? I want you to tell me.”

“……”

Ginko didn’t answer. She just lowered her eyes a little.

That expression tells me a great deal about what she’s going to say.

But I’m not mentally strong enough. I need to hear it, loud and clear. Because if I don’t I’ll start thinking things like, “Do I even have talent after all?” I’d get wrapped up in baseless hope. That’s why–––.

“Tell me. Ginko.”

“Keika ……”

“Say it. And be honest.”

“……”

She looks like she’s about to cry.

But I think that she’s realized I’m not about to change my mind because she looks me straight in the eyes and says, “You’re clearly getting weaker.”

“……!”

“You already know that, don’t you? That your Shogi has no heart. That you play standard and follow the latest trends, but there’s nothing beneath the surface. Rather than thinking for yourself, you depend solely on memorizing what others tell you and fall apart as soon as the match veers away from the standard patterns. That’s why no one is scared to play against you at all. There’s nothing for you to build on, so you’re not improving. You weren’t as knowledgeable, but you were much stronger back when you were excited to play when you were twenty.”

“…………”

I thought I was prepared for that …… But now I’m the one on the verge of tears.

She nailed me right where it hurts the most. That’s what it felt like.

“That pip-squeak doesn’t know the first thing about standards. But that’s exactly why she thinks through everything herself. That’s why each move shines. Every single move she makes becomes experience and that experience builds into strength.”

“…… I know that.”

“Keika ……”

“I know. I know I’m just imitating other people when I play Shogi …… I know my playing style is basically just some dress-up doll ……”

That’s a lie.

I had a feeling, but I’ve kept looking away from the truth. Saying “I know” is a lie.

But if I don’t say it like this, my fragile pride would snap and my spirit will be as good as gone.

“In one year …… no …… in six months I won’t even be in Ai’s shadow anymore. I know.”

We may both be in the Practice League, but our talent levels are worlds apart.

I can tell by how others react. I can tell how much they expect from Ai Hinatsuru and Ai Yashajin. Even I, with no talent at all, can tell how incredible they both are by looking at their match records.

“But even still, I can win like this. If I can just get a lead in the early game and maintain it without making mistakes, then I can–––.”

“No, you can’t.”

“……!”

“The way you’re playing now, you can’t. Even if you get a lead early on, you’ll get passed by in the late game.”

“Have I gotten ……”

Have I gotten that weak?

Has Ai …… gotten that strong?

“So then …… my Shogi has …… decayed that far ……”

“……”

“Ginko. Can I ask you one more favor?”

“What is it?”

“I would like you to be my practice partner.”

Practice groups are not some club for friends.

They’re relationships between Shogi players built on give and take. If one side comes on too strong, that relationship gets distorted and turns sour. In a pure place like the Shogi world, that kind of relationship won’t last.

But even so, that’s what I’m after right now.

“Please, Ginko. No, Sora-sensei.”

I put my hands on the tatami mat and bow my head.

She’s always been like a little sister to me, so this is the first time I’ve ever called her Sensei.

“Just one month is fine. Please give me some of your time for just one month, Sora-sensei. If you agree, I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life finding a way to pay you back–––.”

“Stop!”

Ginko cuts me off with tears in her eyes.

“Please stop …… Why do you have to say it like that? You know I’d do anything for you, Keika! Why did you have to use those words to ask for something I’d do anyway?!”

“…… Thank you, Ginko. I’m sorry ……”

If I ask like this, there’s no way Ginko would refuse. The whole thing was a dirty trick, a calculated performance that I had planned out ahead of time.

How did I turn out like this?

I thought about the sly, underhanded person I’ve become and lightly grimace at the distance that separates dreams from reality.

Never once in all my life did I dream of becoming a person like this.