Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 7 - Chapter 3.5

  THE TASTE OF NANIWA

“To today’s win.”

“Cheers! …… Thanks, Mitsuru.”

Clicking together cups filled with hot sake, Kousuke downed the rice wine sake in one quick gulp.

–––When was the last time I was drinkin’ to celebrate rather than drown out the pain?

Kousuke had invited Mitsuru Oishi, who was analyzing matches late into the night at the association, out for a drink at the Shouben Tanbatei and was now thoroughly enjoying the taste of victory along with exquisite sake.

“Care to join us for a round, Takashi?”

“I’d be honored. There we are ……”

Takashi Hinatsuru prepared a cup for himself from his spot in the kitchen without a word of protest. Raising the cup to Kousuke, he drank it all in one swift swig.

Happily grinning as he watched, Kousukse said, “I gotta ask …… How long’s it been since we came to Hozenji, Mitsuru?”

“Just the two of us? I’d say around ten years, give or take. Still, I drop in on my own every now and then. In this area at least.”

Mitsuru poured himself another cup, refilling it yet again.

“Minami is actually a bastion for jazz music, it’s just not many people know about it. Hozenji Temple’s grounds play host to a jazz festival each summer.”

“That right?”

“Back in the 1920s, musicians displaced by the Great Kanto Earthquake rushed into Osaka and jazz took hold right here. The scene has all but disappeared by now, but I used to have a part-time gig playing piano in Minami back when I was in the Sub League.”

“That’s how ya met yar wife, ain’t it? Make sure ya treat her right.”

“Haaaa ……”

“The old vets always said the key to winnin’ title matches was havin’ a stable house. A guy with yar skills countin’ wins and losses just ain’t right.”

Mitsuru was currently caught between a rock and a hard place in the King Title Match after losing consecutive matches to Kanto player Crown Yo Okito.

Including the A division placement match, Mitsuru had dropped three straight to the Crown. Momentum was clearly against him.

“Things are fine at home, and I don’t have anything personal against that Okito guy, either …… It’s just that I can’t get my head around all this software stuff.”

“Software, eh?”

Yo Okito may have been the first professional player to lose to a computer, but it’s also said that this event triggered Shogi software’s incorporation into modern research methods. Many of the top players, including Kousuke himself, were fiercely against this trend at first.

However, the situation was changing now that all these new software-based strategies were producing results.

“The newest programs don’t bother with human match records and spit out match data they made by goin’ against themselves. Gettin’ stronger that way, too. That’s why people say they’re beyond us and why their senses are totally different. I took a close look for myself, and the things come up with some interestin’ ideas.”

“Well, you sure sound well-informed.”

“Been researchin’ with the youngens. The strategy makin’ waves against Rangin’ Rook right now is called Silver Halo Anaguma–––.”

Kousuke leans across the counter, excited to impart his knowledge.

Stuck listening to an explanation of the very strategy making his life miserable, Mitsuru grimaced and kept downing cups of sake.

“Good grief. Here I thought I was doing a favor for Keika, but …… Who’s supposed to be doing the cheering up here?”

“Keika?”

“Not just her. Even Ginko and Yaichi have been worried about you.”

“That so ……? Some Master I turned out to be.”

“No, I’m jealous, to tell the truth. I’m not exactly a people person, but those kids you raised up are an exception. They don’t beat around the bush, just like their Master.”

Mitsuru has never been one to mince words. What he said could be taken at face value.

Trying to hide his loosening tear ducts behind another cup of sake, Kousuke asked, “What about yar little girl? …… Asuka, yeah? She’s as good a kid as they come. Was nice enough to drop by my practice session the other day.”

“She’s a quiet one. Spitting image of someone I know.”

Shades of a father peeked out from the competitor’s visage for a brief moment as Mr. Oishi continued.

“Only thing is that she’s figured out how Shogi works as of late. She can get the gist of how her father is doing just by looking at the match record …… Hard to play like that.”

“…… I know what that’s like. Went through it myself.”

The two men now shared a bond that was absent in their younger days, both were Shogi players and fathers of Shogi players.

“Here you are, kantodaki oden,” said Takashi Hinatsuru, sensing a break in the conversation and putting bowls of piping hot compressed seafood, vegetables and eggs on sticks in front of them.

Kousuke’s eyes lit up the moment he took a bite and asked, “Tell me somethin’, Takashi. Is it just me, or is the flavor a lot stronger than the one I had after losin’ my placement match ……?”

“…… You noticed?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but …… Do ya change the flavor based on wins and losses?”

“It’s called the Flavor of Kyoto, Taste of Naniwa–––.”

Takashi leans over the counter as he explains.

“The classy dishes served to nobility and the Imperial family all started in Kyoto. Since that cuisine plays a role in ceremonies, proportions must be equally balanced while maintaining gorgeous presentation at the same time. In other words, preserving the traditional form passed down through the generations is important and bringing out each ingredient’s flavor is what defines elegance.”

“So, that’s Flavor of Kyoto, eh ……?”

“Yes. On the other hand, Naniwa–––cuisine here in Osaka doesn’t have a definite form. Actually, sticking to form will get you nowhere.”

“Following patterns …… won’t work?”

“Osaka is a city of commerce. Wining and dining potential clients at restaurants or catered events happens all the time, and business people are counting on the food to help close the deal. Every person has their own preferences already and each individual person’s tastes will differ depending on how they’re feeling at the time.”

“……”

“That’s where a chef shows what he can do. Of course, being able to satisfy the customer’s pallet is a must, but what taste is the customer looking for in the first place? Figuring that out and adjusting the menu on the fly is his chance to shine.”

“A contest of strength with no standards to follow? That’s Kansai Shogi right there,” said Mitsuru with a grin.

Kousuke followed him up with a serious look in his eyes.

“What taste do customers want? The only way to know that is to step into their shoes. That’s where it all leads. Which makes me think the chefs with the richest life experiences are in demand. Your bout lasted much longer today than last time, Kiyotaki-sensei, so I added more flavor.”

“Flavor of Kyoto, Taste of Naniwa ……,” Kousuke repeated several times, letting the words roll off his tongue.

His final placement match opponent was one of Kanto’s most prominent young players. He would never win by employing the latest strategies. This was the world of Kyoto cuisine.

However, that would not be the deciding factor in this battle.

–––Experience I got in spades. The experience of fightin’ through the Sub League, risin’ through placement matches and standin’ on top of it all in A.

He was fully aware of his strength at the time, as well as his weaknesses.

Where he was weak then …… That’s where his opponent would be weak now.

Even if he couldn’t compete in terms of youth, everything he’d built up over the years …… Couldn’t he bring out that flavor? There would be plenty of waiting time during the placement match to stew.

With all these thoughts going through his head, Kousuke found it strange.

–––How long’s it been since I was still thinkin’ ’bout Shogi right after a match?

What’s more, not the agony of defeat …… but having this much fun.

“Mr. Kiyotaki.”

Mitsuru spoke up after Kousuke fell silent.

“There’s a jazz bar on the way to Dohtonbori. Care to join me?”

“Nah. Sorry, but I’m callin’ it a night,” said the cheerful Kousuke Kiyotaki as he slid into his coat. No matter where he was, the snap of Shogi pieces was all he would hear.

“…… Rejected, eh? Here I thought rejecting was always my part to play.”

Mitsuru cracked a joke with a somewhat rejuvenated look in his eyes as he watched Kousuke say a quick thank you and walk out the door. Then he started bringing his cup of sake up to his lips to down what was left.

However, his hand stopped halfway, and Mitsuru didn’t take another sip of alcohol.

It wasn’t a stiff drink or music that he needed right now.

“That was delicious.”

With that, Mitsuru was about to make his own exit when he turned on his heel.

“Are you sticking around for a while?”

“Yes. Another two weeks, I’d say.”

“Then you should drop by my bathhouse sometime. Sure, it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles you’ve got up at the Hinatsuru, but …… I think you’d enjoy the sting of a nice hot bath at mine.”

“Thank you very much. I will.”

Bowing his head, Takashi was satisfied with his performance today.

For warriors, a rest was simply a way to gear up for the next battle. He was just happy that his cooking had lit a flame within Kousuke and Mitsuru’s hearts.

Cuisine wasn’t the star in Osaka. The spotlight belonged to the people who dine.

“…… I wonder what kind of food Ai makes for Kuzuryu-sensei ……,” Takashi Hinatsuru mumbled to himself as he watched Mitsuru disappear into the night, his thoughts on his not-so-far-away daughter.