Chapter 4: The World of 300km/h
By the time I returned to the venue, it seemed most of the first-round matches had concluded.
The same went for my team. Takebayashi-senpai, Aoi, and the Sakuma brothers had already finished their matches and were taking a break.
"Explain yourself, Asuka…!!"
"N-No, you don't understand… that’s not it…"
"What’s not it?! Begging your opponent to let you win? You’re a disgrace to Shogi!"
It seemed Asuka’s attempt to negotiate with me had been branded as match-fixing, and she was being grilled by her teammates.
Asuka had kept her voice fairly low, and the venue was always filled with a constant roar of noise that tended to drown things out.
Still, it must have been audible to anyone fighting right next to us. The Vice-captain who had been playing against Kaito Sakuma looked absolutely furious as he interrogated Asuka.
Well, given the look of her, she won’t be acting high and mighty again anytime soon.
"Hey, Mr. Captain."
"?"
As I was thinking that and moving to take my seat, a voice called out from behind me.
I turned around to find Kaito Sakuma standing there.
"…Um, you know. That looked like a lot to deal with."
Kaito was actually being considerate, which caught me off guard. I looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"S-So you heard that…"
"We were right next to each other. It sounded like you had some history with their Captain, but you okay?"
"Well… I’ve officially cut ties, I think."
"I see."
Kaito didn't pry any further. Instead, he took his seat next to mine, a guilty expression on his face.
"Still, I had no idea you were that strong. Watching your playstyle while you were dismantling their Captain… it was terrifying. …I’ll admit it, I totally underestimated you. I thought you were just some newbie. —I’m really sorry for everything I said. I apologize."
With that, Kaito placed his hands on his knees and bowed his head deeply.
"It’s fine. I am a new member who just joined, after all. And honestly, I didn't have much confidence in being the Captain myself. I figured I’d just play the role of the decoy."
"You’re the Captain and you’re bringing in wins. I’m never calling you a decoy again. If anything, I’m the one who should be the decoy."
"Haha."
I never thought the day would come when I’d be chatting like this with one of the Sakuma brothers. …Well, the older one, anyway.
"—Mikado-kun!"
As we were talking, Mika came running toward us after finishing her own match.
Since Mika was the "Vanguard," she had been playing at the far end of the row from me. There was quite a distance between us, and yet…
Mika’s pace didn't slow down; if anything, she seemed to accelerate.
I got a bad feeling when Kaito suddenly slid his chair out of the way, but it seems my foresight only works for Shogi—.
"Congratulations!!"
"Wait—?!"
Mika lunged at me with incredible momentum and wrapped me in a hug.
"M-Mika-san…!?"
"Are you okay? Did she do anything to you? Did she say anything mean? If she did, I’ll go give her a piece of my mind right now!"
Mika stayed clung to me, her grip only tightening.
Wait a minute, I’m too busy trying to process this sudden hug to worry about Asuka! Also, something’s touching me! Something really soft is being pressed against me! And she smells good—no, that’s not it, this is way too much physical contact…
"I-I’m fine. I won, and she didn't say anything to me."
"I see…! Thank goodness! Thank goodness…! I was so worried about you!"
"Y-Yeah. More importantly, are you okay, Mika-san? Did you win?"
"Me? Of course! There’s no way I’d lose!"
As expected. Given Asuka’s skill level, the members of Ryutei Dojo must have been quite formidable, but since Mika was so certain of her victory, her strength really was the real deal.
…Still, I wonder how long we’re going to stay like this.
I never dreamed I’d get to hug Tojo Mika, but we’re in a very public place, and I’m starting to get embarrassed.
"Mika-senpai~? How long are you planning on staying like that with Mikado-senpai~?"
Before I knew it, Raizaki Natsu was standing there with a pout, glaring in our direction.
"Ah! S-Sorry! I just got carried away! Ahaha…"
"Hmph…"
Mika turned bright red and pulled away from me, while Natsu shot me a look that seemed almost envious.
Personally, it was a wonderful experience and I was very happy, but it was a shame that my mind was so focused on the tournament that I couldn't fully savor the moment.
I realized then that as the Captain, I hadn't checked the team’s overall results or reported our win yet. I quickly looked around.
I saw Takebayashi-senpai already heading toward the reception desk, likely reporting the results in my stead.
I always think this, but for someone with such a boisterous personality, he’s incredibly efficient. It was technically my job to report, so I felt a bit bad that he was handling everything for me…
Alright, I’ll treat him to something later.
"Sorry, I’m a bit late. Can I hear the results? I know Mika-san won, but…"
I glanced at the others’ expressions and asked the two of them what had happened.
Everyone else seemed to know the results already, but I was still in the dark. If we had lost, we’d be heading home immediately.
In a team tournament, even if Mika and I won, if the majority of the team lost, the team was considered defeated. Beyond my own performance, I was anxious about the outcome.
"We won, don't worry. Our high school is full of powerhouses, after all."
Mika said this as she handed me a slip of paper with everyone’s results.
"Ah! Mika-senpai, no!"
Before Natsu could stop her, I’d already seen the contents of the paper.
Captain: Watanabe Mikado 〇
Vice-captain: Kaito Sakuma 〇
Third: Tsutomu Takebayashi 〇
Center: Raizaki Natsu ×
Fifth: Aoi Rena 〇
Second: Hayato Sakuma 〇
Vanguard: Tojo Mika 〇
Those were the results.
"Aww, why did you have to look…"
Natsu let out a dejected sigh.
I see, so Natsu was the only one who had lost.
I was actually surprised that everyone else had won. I hadn't been underestimating my teammates, but to see them all pull through against such strong opponents made them feel incredibly reliable.
In that sense, Natsu’s single loss was a trivial matter. There was no reason for her to worry about it.
"Ugh… I’m so embarrassed that I was the only one who lost…"
"Don't be silly, Natsu. You’re a slow starter; there’s nothing to worry about. Besides, this is a team tournament. All that matters is that the team wins in the end."
Mika offered her some words of comfort.
"Exactly. Like Mika-san said, this is a team game. You don't need to stress over a single loss."
"Thank you, Mikado-senpai! That means a lot!"
"Hey, are you just going to ignore what I said?!"
That’s right—this is a team tournament. Rather than blaming someone for a win or a loss, we should be grateful that we fought together.
I could just as easily have my feet swept out from under me at any moment, too.
"Ah! Mikado-chi! You’re back~!"
Aoi Aoi came skipping over toward us, waving her hand. At the same time, Takebayashi-senpai returned, laughing loudly after finishing the report.
These two were certainly energetic, considering they’d just finished their matches.
"Good work, Watanabe-kun! Raizaki-kun, that was a close one!"
"Ugh… I’ll win next time!"
"Wahahaha!! That’s the spirit! And I’ve got news—our next opponent has been decided!"
With that, Takebayashi-senpai showed us the match chart he’d brought from the reception desk.
"—'Gin-funari Branch'?"
Mika looked puzzled at the strange team name.
Ah… so the team names don't have to be the name of a school or a dojo.
Gin-funari—"Unpromoted Silver"—was a term used in Shogi when someone deliberately chose not to promote their Silver piece.
In Shogi, when your piece moves within the top three ranks of the opponent’s territory, you can choose to "promote" it. Since a promoted piece can't be turned back, it’s a crucial decision.
Silvers are particularly tricky in this regard. Promoting a Silver turns it into something nearly identical to a Gold, but a Gold and a Silver serve very different roles. If a Gold is like a punch, a Silver is like a kick.
So, "Gin-funari" likely meant they were a group of eccentrics who refused to promote their Silvers no matter what.
—To put it bluntly, a bunch of contrarians.
Regardless, they were a team that had made it through the first round. They weren't going to be an easy win.
"Whoa, seriously? Is that Tojo Mika…?"
"Aw, man… This is the worst."
As I was thinking that, the members of the "Gin-funari Branch" began to gather near us.
The moment they saw Mika, their faces fell. Then they saw Aoi Rena drinking a boba tea she’d apparently bought somewhere, and their expressions grew even more disgusted.
"Ugh… even Aoi Rena is here…"
"Guess we have to be prepared to lose two or three matches."
"…Tsk."
Hayato Sakuma clicked his tongue as he overheard them—they didn't even seem to consider the possibility of losing four matches and being defeated.
Looking closer, they appeared to be students.
They didn't look like they were from Nishigasaki High, but they seemed like a group of middle and high schoolers from the area. They probably all attended the same dojo.
They sized us up one by one, and when their eyes landed on me, they looked confused.
"By the way, Senpai, have you ever seen their Captain before?"
"Hmm…?"
The members of the Gin-funari Branch peered at me from a short distance away.
"…No, never seen him. I don’t remember a guy like that ever being at a tournament."
"I knew it! So he’s just a filler…! Sweet…!"
They were trying to be quiet, but I could hear them perfectly.
"Hey, don't get careless. Even if he’s a filler, he might be a 1st or 2nd kyu player."
"There’s no way I’m losing to a kyu-ranked player!"
They were really looking down on me.
I knew I didn't have much of a reputation, but I didn't think taking a break from tournaments for a few years would make everyone treat me like such a scrub.
Yeah, yeah, I’m just a weakling.
Or is it that the "loner aura" I radiate makes me look like an easy target? Maybe I should ask Takebayashi-senpai how to project a "strong aura" next time.
As I was pondering that, the boy acting as their Captain—who looked to be about a middle schooler—approached me with a smirk to give a greeting.
"Looking forward to it. Oh, and don't complain if you lose, okay? Lately, there’ve been a lot of adults who get all irritable and mad when they lose to a kid. Well, you haven't been in any tournaments, so maybe you wouldn't know."
The boy mocked me before the match had even started, taking his seat across from me with a look of absolute confidence.
He was remarkably disrespectful to his elders. Having spirit is fine, kid, but you should choose your words more carefully—.
"…Yeah, you’re right."
I quietly steadied my breathing, letting my thoughts sink into the depths of the board.
Then, I slowly opened my eyes.
"—Let’s both agree not to complain when we lose."
Switching back to the "Emperor of Self-Destruction" mindset, I began the second round.
◇
Something was wrong with Raizaki.
Thirty minutes had passed since our clash with the Gin-funari Branch began. Just as we were about to enter the endgame, I noticed a jarring sense of discord.
"Gah, dammit! Why... why!?"
Ignoring the opponent currently writhing in agony before my moves, I glanced to my left to check on my teammates.
While I couldn't see the faces of Tojo, Hayato, or Aoi on the far side, I could just barely make out Raizaki’s profile from where I sat.
Kaito and Takebayashi-senpai were deep in thought as they navigated their own endgames, but looking into the depths of their expressions, I could see the glint of players confident in their advantage.
However—Raizaki alone looked strange.
"...Ngh."
Cold sweat trailed down her cheek. She stared at the board with a glazed, hazy expression, looking as though she were suffering from a high fever.
The problem wasn't the evaluation of her position. It was her condition—or rather, her mental state. Something was fundamentally off.
And it didn't seem like a physical illness like a cold. It felt as if she were being obstructed, blocked by something unseen, forcing herself to move her pieces through a psychological fog.
(Is that... Could it be...)
I recognized that state. In fact, I’d sensed the symptoms in Raizaki... or rather, in Laika, for a while now.
But this was a kind of poison. If left alone, it would only fester. It was a development I had partially anticipated, but seeing it manifest so vividly meant I would have to intervene.
At this rate, we wouldn't win the tournament, and my 'promise' would go unfulfilled.
Well, I needed to focus on my own game first.
"Dammit...! Dammit...!"
The captain of the Gin-funari Branch—the one facing me—was clutching his head, his face a mask of agitation and frustration.
Perhaps noticing that I had looked away from the board, he glared at me with suspicious eyes.
"H-hey...! You aren't cheating, are you!?"
His accusation likely stemmed from an inability to accept his own impending defeat. His initial hostility had mutated into emotional desperation.
"Cheating? How exactly would I cheat in this situation? I haven't even left my seat."
"M-maybe you've got an earbud in, or someone’s giving you the best moves through eye contact...!"
The boy scanned the room frantically, looking for any evidence to support his paranoia.
"Good grief... Stop embarrassing yourself."
"S-shut up! How can there be such a gap between me and someone who’s never even shown up to tournaments before!? It's impossible...! Absolutely impossible...! You're playing way too fast! You're suspicious as hell...!"
"What a resentful way to think."
I crossed my arms and allowed my brain a moment of rest.
The weaker a person's spirit, the more likely they are to blame others when cornered. He was just a middle schooler; he probably hadn't faced this kind of harsh reality often, which was why he was doubting the legitimacy of my play.
But don't underestimate me, kid. This isn't school, and this isn't some tiered bracket for beginners. This is a genuine, open-entry tournament.
No one gets special treatment just because they're in middle school or elementary school. No one pulls their punches.
Shogi is a game where you crush your opponent using your own wisdom and strategy. That's why children can beat adults, and why it's not uncommon for a kid to be chosen as a team captain. If anything, the younger players are often considered stronger due to their faster processing speed.
I had no intention of holding back, no matter who the opponent was. I had decided to play with everything I had.
If there was a massive disparity in the evaluation of the board, it was simply because there was a massive disparity between our skills.
I didn't need to cheat.
"If you're so convinced I'm cheating, feel free to report it to the referees."
"Ngh...!"
There is no logical argument more effective than offering to hand over the right to prosecute.
The boy fell silent, biting his lip as he went back to contemplating his next move.
To be fair, the game had reached this state because of a very simple beginning.
At the start of the match, I hadn't pushed my Rook's pawn, prioritizing a solid defense instead. Seeing this, the Gin-funari's captain had opted for the 'Bishop Exchange Fourth File Rook' strategy—often abbreviated as 'KKS.'
It’s a tactic that famously exploded in popularity among amateurs during the latter half of the Heisei era.
Its advantages are numerous: despite being a Swinging Rook strategy aimed at counter-attacking, it can be shifted into irregular forms specialized for offense. It forces a Bishop exchange while allowing one to build a formation with no openings. Even if the opponent refuses the exchange, the pieces are positioned to be cleared out efficiently at any time.
If the 1970s ideal was the Ishida style Third File Rook, then the Heisei ideal was the Bishop Exchange Fourth File Rook.
The Gin-funei captain had deployed his KKS, cheerfully exchanged Bishops, transitioned into an 'Opposing Rook' formation, and then executed a simple 'Climbing Silver' attack, thrusting his Silver forward.
It was a textbook attack, straight out of the manuals.
The Swinging Rook side gains an advantage the more pieces are traded off. Letting him constantly exchange pieces would normally allow him to seize the initiative.
So, despite playing a Static Rook opening, I swung my Rook over to become a Swinging Rook myself.
There is no rule saying a Static Rook player can't swing their Rook. Since I had deferred pushing my Rook's pawn, my strategy hadn't been locked in yet.
He thought he was looking at a cat in a box, only to find out it was Pandora’s Box. Executing a self-centered attack without even trying to peer inside the box was the height of folly.
—The 'Feint Swinging Rook.' It was a bit of a trap. I had let him think I was playing Static Rook, only to pivot to a Swinging Rook myself.
His advantage relied on a Swinging Rook setup that turned piece-clearing into a gain. By mirroring him with my own Swinging Rook, those advantages were neutralized, bringing us back to zero.
The result? My opponent, who had wasted numerous moves setting up his offense, ended up with a massive 'loss of tempo,' while I gained those moves for myself.
All that was left was to use that inverted speed to attack faster than him.
See? It was a simple victory.
"A-ah... dammit... why? Why...!?"
Forty minutes into the game, the captain of the Gin-funari Branch was the picture of despair.
The more he played, the worse his position became. The board was hurtling toward its conclusion. Every counter-attack he tried was sucked into the traps I had laid and neutralized.
Driven into a hopeless corner, the boy eventually began to shed tears of frustration.
I watched him with a cold expression, mercilessly closing in for the kill.
"...I-I resign..."
The boy muttered the words in a voice so quiet it was barely audible. I bowed my head in a formal return of the greeting.
"Thank you for the game."
And just like that, I had safely secured my victory in the second round.
◇
A low-level opponent. A skill gap so wide I could have won even with pieces removed. I could feel the sheer difference in our weight classes—I knew his next move before he even thought of it.
—And yet, facing such an opponent, the hands of our middle-board player, Raizaki, had stopped.
"...Ngh."
She reached out to grab a piece, only to seize her own wrist with her other hand to stop it.
Even though she hadn't decided on a move yet, her hand had tried to move on its own. The sensation filled Raizaki with a creeping sense of dread.
(...What is this? It's scary...)
It was the feeling of being dragged down by an unconscious urge, a loss of control over her own body.
Trauma? Stress? The yips?
Various theories floated through her mind, but none of them seemed to fit.
She didn't feel like she was in a slump. She didn't feel fatigued. And yet, she couldn't find a move she was satisfied with, leaving her trapped in a state of stagnation.
(A misreading...? An oversight...? Why can't I collect my thoughts...!?)
Raizaki had felt a slight sense of wrongness when she lost in the first round.
She couldn't play the moves she wanted. She couldn't read ahead effectively. Her body was fine, yet she felt a crushing weight, as if something invisible were pinning her down.
Losing to a superior opponent was one thing. But her first-round opponent had been significantly weaker than her usual self. And yet, she had lost.
Her second-round opponent was even weaker—an absolute pushover.
Despite that, Raizaki was once again being driven to the brink of defeat.
(...Ngh. What's happening to me...!?)
It was the endgame, where the lines of mate were beginning to flicker in and out of view. Normally, this was a position Raizaki would have solved instantly.
In such a position, Raizaki had fallen into a twenty-minute 'deep tank,' flushing her precious remaining time down the drain.
She had already decided on a move. She felt there were no other options. If she played this, it would lead to victory.
So, play it—
Her instinctive intuition screamed at her, layering noise over her thoughts and interfering with her logic.
(Shut up! Be quiet...!!)
Winning through 'feeling' was impossible. That was an arrogant way to play.
She needed to think calmly, read the lines thoroughly, and play a move that made rational sense. That was the only shortcut to the best move.
Raizaki forced herself to re-evaluate the position from scratch.
She narrowed down the candidates and logically derived the move that should be best in this situation.
When she did, she realized that her earlier, instinctive move was an error based on nothing but 'atmosphere.'
(...See? I knew it was wrong.)
The more she thought about it, the more that earlier move looked like a blunder. She was terrified that her brain had tried to play such a mistake of its own accord.
Raizaki clung to her image of herself as a 'calm and collected' player.
(If only this annoying 'noise' would go away, I could read so much deeper—)
But in the next instant, Raizaki gasped in horror at her opponent's response.
"Huh...?"
A 'Pawn Shuriken' dropped from the piece stand. That nonchalant move hadn't been in her readings at all. It was a move that led to her 'sudden death.'
(Eh...? Why...? Wait...)
'Sudden death'—the declaration of mortality. The brand of defeat.
Raizaki had made a single mistake in a position she thought she was winning, and the game had flipped.
(...No way... why? Why...!?)
She didn't understand. She didn't understand why she had lost.
She understood the process—one bad move allowed the reversal. That was clear.
But she didn't understand why she had thought of that move, or why she had played it.
She had thought it through. She had been logical. And yet, her opponent hadn't missed the tiny opening she’d left.
(...Why? When did I become this weak...!?)
Looking like she might shatter at any moment, Raizaki bowed deeply to signal her resignation.
"..."
Mikado, the only one who had noticed Raizaki’s abnormality, slowly stood up from his seat.
◇
Four hours had passed since the start of the Yellow Dragon Tournament. The long battle was half over, and it was time for the lunch break.
"..."
We, the Nishigasaki High School Shogi Club, had successfully secured a victory in the second round against the Gin-funari Branch.
Everything was going smoothly. We were on the fast track to the championship. Or at least, that was the vibe we should have had, but the atmosphere at lunch was anything but bright.
"..."
Raizaki, sitting across from me, was in low spirits. Or rather, she looked so dark it was hard to even watch.
"Raizaki..."
"..."
She didn't even acknowledge Mika’s voice, her eyes staring blankly at nothing.
The cause was obvious—her match against the Gin-funari Branch.
The results of the second round were as follows:
Captain: Watanabe Mikado (W)
Vice-Captain: Kaito Sakuma (W)
Third: Tsutomu Takebayashi (W)
Center: Raizaki Natsu (L)
Fifth: Aoi Rena (W)
Second: Hayato Sakuma (W)
Vanguard: Tojo Mika (W)
The result was a carbon copy of the first round; Raizaki was the only one who had lost.
She was clearly shaken by the result. She’d stepped out for ten minutes to "get some air" and had only just returned for lunch.
"Um... I'm so sorry..."
"H-hey, there's no need to apologize, Laika-chi! Everyone has off days, man!"
"..."
Raizaki’s expression remained grim, her eyes so clouded it looked like she might burst into tears at any second.
If Takebayashi-senpai had been here, he might have been able to cheer her up, but unfortunately, he was currently busy reporting our results. Furthermore, since the knockout tournament for the qualifying teams was about to begin, he had to go draw our lot.
Because Takebayashi-senpai handled all these administrative chores, the rest of us were able to enjoy a leisurely lunch... but for once, I wished he could have shared some of that boisterous energy with Raizaki.
"L-listen, Raizaki!"
"Excuse me. I'm going to step away for a bit."
"Ah..."
Mika tried to cheer her up, but Raizaki simply stood up with a dark expression and headed toward the restrooms.
"Mikado-kun... isn't there something we can do for her...?"
"..."
By 'doing something,' Mika presumably meant returning Raizaki to her normal state.
However, that might actually be counterproductive.
Raizaki was currently in an extremely unstable mental state. Trying to force her back to normal would likely only cause a backlash.
That wasn't the optimal choice.
"Tojo-san, did you feel like Raizaki has gotten weaker?"
"What?"
"Her match just now. To be blunt, the kifu was a mess. Her moves lacked balance; she just kept playing a jumble of incoherent ideas. Looking at that, did you feel like she’d become a weaker player?"
Mika answered my question instantly.
"Of course not! Raizaki has been doing nothing but Shogi for the sake of this tournament. She even stopped coming to school just to dedicate herself to it. I could never say she’s gotten weaker."
Mika glared at me with a touch of anger.
"...Yeah, you're right. I agree. She hasn't gotten weaker."
"Exactly. She’s just having an off day. Her win rate has always been a bit inconsistent, so her bad habits are just surfacing. I'm sure she'll be back to normal soon—"
"No, that's not it either."
"Huh...?"
Surprised by my sudden denial, the others all turned to look at me.
"Raizaki isn't 'having an off day.' She isn't feeling unwell, and she isn't fatigued."
No, Raizaki’s condition wasn't the problem.
Her play might have looked like a mess at first glance, but there were traces of deliberate thought behind it.
If you showed me the kifu without names, I could still tell it was Raizaki playing; her specific quirks were all over it.
And yet, she was hitting the 'wrong' button every single time, missing almost every best move. They were 'Raizaki-like' moves, but an absolute parade of blunders that weren't like her at all.
If so, there was only one conclusion to this contradiction.
"Then why...?"
I didn't answer. I simply turned my back and headed back toward the hall.
And so, we reached the third round without any resolution.
Our opponents were a team of regulars from a historic Dojo in the West District called 'Kinoshita Dojo'—a team known as 'Kazamidori.'
At this stage of the tournament, older players began to appear. Their styles were often 'hardcore,' relying more on experience and grit than raw reading speed.
However, since Raizaki and I were used to the 'Shogi Wars' environment, we should have had the advantage in 'blitz' play, being able to force them into deep tanks and win on time.
—Or so we all thought.
"..."
Two hours after the start of the match, as the atmosphere in the hall heated up for the final stages, we were blanketed in an incredibly heavy air.
"...Ngh... uuuugh...!"
Only our teammates could hear Raizaki’s whimpering.
Captain: Watanabe Mikado (W)
Vice-Captain: Kaito Sakuma (L)
Third: Tsutomu Takebayashi (W)
Center: Raizaki Natsu (L)
Fifth: Aoi Rena (W)
Second: Hayato Sakuma (L)
Vanguard: Tojo Mika (W)
The third round against 'Kazamidori' ended in a narrow 4-3 victory.
The Sakuma brothers suffered their first losses here, but since their opponents had been the enemy's aces, those losses weren't particularly damaging to our morale.
The real problem, as expected, was Raizaki.
According to Mika, Raizaki’s opponent had been one of the weakest members of their team. Despite that, Raizaki had suffered a total defeat, leaving behind another disastrous kifu.
Even though we’d made it to the later stages, this 3-loss close call was dangerous.
Raizaki seemed to feel the weight of the responsibility; she was slumped over the table, burying her face in her arms.
"Raizaki-kun...? Raizaki, are you okay!?"
Takebayashi-senpai finally realized something was seriously wrong and hurried over, his face etched with genuine concern.
"I'm sorr—I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to be such a burden to everyone... ugh... hhh...!"
"What are you saying!? It's because you worked so hard that the rest of us were able to grab our wins! There's no reason to feel responsible for a loss!"
"Uuuugh...! Hhh... hhh...!"
"Raizaki..."
No words of comfort would reach her now.
Because the reason Raizaki was crying wasn't about her contribution to the team.
It was because all the effort she’d put in so far wasn't bearing fruit—in fact, that very effort was what was strangling her.
She was supposed to lead the team, yet she was the one dragging them down. Disappointment and anger at her own incompetence were all that filled her heart right now.
After crying for a while, Raizaki wobbled to her feet and ran out of the hall without looking at anyone.
The rest of the team could do nothing but watch her go.
"I-is she gonna be okay, man...? She's not gonna just go home, is she?"
"..."
"Raizaki..."
"I wish there was something we could do."
Mika bit her lip, her fists clenched in frustration.
Shogi is a lonely battle where you are always facing yourself. In this one-on-one sport, there are no allies to help you.
Even though this was a team tournament, it was ultimately just a series of individual matches. No one could step in to assist, and no teammate could rescue you from a pinch.
To win a match, you have to grow alongside your own self.
"..."
The team was on the verge of splintering. Even in this high-risk situation, I remained patient.
And then came the fourth round—the semi-finals.
Our opponents were the favorites to win: 'Ginsan Dojo 26.' I thought the name sounded familiar, and then it clicked—they were the parent organization that managed the Ryutei Dojo where Asuka had belonged.
I didn't know what the '26' stood for, but the members of that Dojo practically radiated an unpleasant, arrogant aura.
Everyone took their seats, and the match began in a fluid motion.
The players from Ginsan Dojo were as good as their reputation suggested. Their moves were decisive.
In any situation, they applied instantaneous thinking to make the appropriate judgment, playing moves backed by the reading skills inherent to their level.
They were the troublesome type who, even if you beat them in the opening, would claw their way back in the endgame. And this type of opponent was the exact opposite of before—they were the kind Raizaki and I struggled with, but the kind Mika and Takebayashi-senpai excelled against.
However—thirty minutes into the match, the anomaly occurred.
"...I resign."
The voice sent a shockwave through all of us.
The one who had spoken was—shockingly—Mika.
"Eh...?"
"No way..."
Aoi and Raizaki looked at Mika with eyes full of disbelief.
Mika was the one person we couldn't imagine losing. Her defeat sent a wave of agitation through the entire team.
"Yes...!"
"We can win this...!"
Conversely, the spirits of the Ginsan Dojo team skyrocketed. Having taken down Mika—our greatest wall—victory was now within their grasp.
The other matches concluded one after another. By the forty-minute mark, everyone except Raizaki had finished their games.
And when the final tallies were marked, we were left in the worst possible situation.
Captain: Watanabe Mikado (W)
Vice-Captain: Kaito Sakuma (L)
Third: Tsutomu Takebayashi (W)
Center: Raizaki Natsu
Fifth: Aoi Rena (W)
Second: Hayato Sakuma (L)
Vanguard: Tojo Mika (L)
With everyone but Raizaki finished, the score was 3-3.
Except for me, everyone on the Nishigasaki High team realized our defeat was imminent.
◇
“...It’s over.”
A hopeless position, a hopeless situation, and hopelessly disorganized thoughts.
My opponent was the ace of the Ginsan Dojo, Yoshinobu Togo.
He was a big name, even to someone like me. We had faced off several times during middle school, and I hadn’t beaten him once.
Togo—a stiff, formal player who always seemed to be glaring at his opponent—muttered a few words as he watched my hand hover over the board.
“Is this the best the ‘Uncrowned Queen’ can do? Your moves have been nothing but lukewarm for a while now.”
“...!”
The Uncrowned Queen.
It was a derogatory nickname given to me because, despite entering countless tournaments, I had never managed to take first place. Some people even whispered behind my back, wondering if I was throwing matches or if I simply didn't care about winning.
That wasn't true at all.
In my own way, I had been desperate to keep up. I’d fought with everything I had, reaching out as far as I possibly could until I hit my limit.
And yet, I couldn't win. My win rate was never stable.
It was the same in this tournament. Even though every opponent I’d faced so far was supposed to be lower-ranked than me, I hadn’t won a single game.
And now, of all people, I was pitted against a superior player.
What was left for me but despair?
(Why won't my thoughts just... listen to me...?!)
For reasons I couldn't understand, my mind was a chaotic mess, and the strategic vision I’d spent years building began to crumble.
When I glanced to my left and right, I saw my teammates watching my impending downfall. Their anxious gazes felt like needles piercing my chest.
Tojo-senpai had lost, bringing the team score to three-and-three. The fate of the entire match rested solely on my shoulders.
“I... I can’t... do this...” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
The players from Ginsan Dojo had already started their break, not even bothering to watch my match. They must have been certain of their ace's victory.
(...I’ve reached my limit...!)
I had no way to stop the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood up abruptly, abandoning the match then and there, and ran out of the venue.
“Raizaki...?!”
“Wait!”
“It’s fine, I’ll go. Excuse me, would you mind?”
I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't endure it. If I was just going to keep making terrible moves, it was better to simply run away.
My reason couldn't keep up with my reflexive actions; I just kept running until I made it outside. It was only when the cool outdoor air hit me that I finally regained my senses.
“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”
Apologies poured out of me, though there was no one there to hear them.
I looked up at the clear blue sky. The sheer absurdity of my situation—standing there staring blankly at nothing—sank in.
“...That’s strange. My mind is supposed to be as clear as that sky... so why do so many different moves keep popping up and getting in the way...?”
It was always like this.
There was another version of me, one with an intuitive way of thinking that interfered with my logic. A monster that tried to unleash moves based on raw, beast-like instinct, without a shred of reason.
In the beginning, it had been quiet. But at some point, that voice had started to overpower my calm, analytical mind.
A nuisance that tried to play by feel instead of thinking through the correct move theoretically.
That thing was consuming me. And that’s why today—
“...You look like hell.”
A voice came from behind me, and I turned around slowly.
“Mikado-senpai...”
Despite seeing my tear-stained face, Mikado-senpai wore his usual expression. He didn't approach me, stopping instead by the door.
“Aren’t you going back?”
“...It’s fine. Even if I go back, I won't win anyway.”
“I see.”
He didn't press the issue further. He simply stood there by the door.
One minute, two minutes, three... The silence stretched on.
Mikado-senpai didn't say anything unnecessary. He probably knew that if he discussed the match and someone saw us, it would be considered a foul.
But it was a meaningless gesture anyway. I only had about five minutes left on my clock. Even as we stood here, the gap was widening, and my chances of losing were skyrocketing.
Even if I went back now, I’d lose on time. The moment I walked away from the board, I had effectively abandoned a match that still had a few percent chance of victory.
“...Aren’t you going to force me back?”
“Force you? Drag a girl back by the hand? I can’t imagine what people would think if they saw that... Sorry, but I’ll pass.”
“Then why...!”
Then why are you here? I couldn't finish the sentence. I clutched my head with one hand and glared at him.
“My head has been a mess since earlier! I can’t organize my thoughts! No matter how much I think, these intuitive moves get in the way. There’s so much noise when I try to calculate that I can’t read ahead at all...!”
I threw my true feelings at him.
Even though I knew he wouldn't understand, I blurted out the abstract, vague sensations I was feeling and hurled them at Mikado-senpai.
“...I’m ‘Uncrowned.’ Everyone keeps calling me that. I can’t win any tournament, no matter how many I enter. I’m a fool who misunderstood the level of her own skill. I’m the ‘Uncrowned Queen.’ Just a girl playing at being strong who’s never won a single time. ...I’m just so tired of it all.”
No matter how much I pretended, no matter how much effort I put in, in the end, I was always brought down by my own lack of talent.
I knew this was a world where talent was everything, yet some part of me had still hoped.
It was unforgivable. Someone like me didn't deserve to live in this world.
“‘Uncrowned,’ huh...? When you say it out loud, it sounds like a joke.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Senpai!” I snapped, stepping toward him emotionally.
“Yeah, I don’t. We only met today.”
“Then—!”
“But I feel like I know your play better than anyone.”
“...!”
His words made me freeze.
“Uncrowned? Who said that? The ‘Laika’ I know has won every single tournament hosted on Shogi Wars.”
“That’s... that’s only because I never ran into you...!”
“Even so, you beat everyone else except me. Is that not a fact?”
“...”
The one place where I had never lost to anyone—those were the tournaments held within Shogi Wars. I had won over and over again there. I had climbed to the top repeatedly.
In the real world, they called me the Uncrowned Queen, but there, I was—
“Loosen your shoulders. Be more natural. ...Everyone’s worried about you.”
“Even if you say that... even if I go back now, I...”
As I continued to grumble and complain, Mikado-senpai pulled me toward him.
“Eh—”
For a moment, I didn't understand what had happened. Before I knew it, I was wrapped in his arms.
“...”
A warm embrace. A gentle sensation, like being on a cloud, where all my distracting thoughts suddenly vanished.
“...You’re the worst. You’re just pretending to be dense, aren't you, Senpai?”
“...Who knows.”
The words he whispered into my ear felt like they were accepting everything about me. It was a wonderful feeling. My emotions, which had been so close to the edge, slowly began to stabilize.
“...I might play some truly terrible moves.”
“Yeah.”
“I might not calculate or read at all—I might just play entirely by instinct. You might be disappointed.”
“If that’s the move you want to play, then it’s the right move, no matter what.”
As if affirming my very will, Mikado-senpai placed his expectations directly into my hands.
I had been trying so hard to be 'correct' because I thought I was 'wrong,' yet this person was telling me it was okay to be wrong. I had been resisting so desperately, yet he was telling me to play those very moves.
He was telling me that if I was going to lose anyway, I might as well go all out.
“...All right. I’m going.”
When I gave my answer, he patted my back twice to send me off.
“Yeah, go get ’em. —The All-Title Queen.”
◇
The noise of the venue hit my ears.
The tears that had been falling had stopped without me realizing it. The moment I felt the atmosphere of the room, the noise in my head began to return.
From my seat, I could hear the buzzer.
It was the signal for byo-yomi. If I had come back even a moment later, I would have lost on time.
I hadn't decided on my next move. Of course I hadn't. No matter how much I calculated, I couldn't find a way to turn this around. I was just wasting time.
But, in defiance of that rational thought, my instinctive mind began to accelerate. Intense noise overrode my logic, and my existing sense of the board collapsed.
(Ah... I see. That’s how it is.)
The ruins of my strategy gave way to a new foundation. It was wider, deeper, and more powerful than anything before—
(I wasn't playing poorly.)
Time felt like it was stopping. The buzzer echoed, and I felt as though the world was revolving around me.
Ah, my instinct. I... I am—
S-7i+ S-7h+ Gx7h Bx7h S-8g (S-6h+ P-4b+ Kx4b P-2d (Px2d P-2c+ Kx2c N-3e+ K-3c B-6c+) S-7i P-2c+ Kx2c N-3e+ K-3c N-2e+ K-2d R-2a+) (G-6g N-8i S-6i P-4b+ Kx4b N-8h S-7h+ Sx7h+ Gx7h S-3a+ K-3c G-7h S-7h+ P-4b S-4b K-5c K-5c B-6c+ K-4b R-5b+ K-3c G-3b)... S-7h+ Sx7h G-7i G-8h G-7h Gx7h S-7g G-8i B-7e S-8h S-7h Gx7h G-7g S-8i G-7h Sx7h G-7g P-7i G-8h Sx8h S-7g G-8g... S-8h+ Gx8h S-7g G-8g (S-8h+ Gx8h G-7g S-8i G-8h Sx8h G-7g S-8i G-8h Sx8h S-7g G-8g S-8h+ K-8h (S-7f N-4e S-6g+ K-8i S-7h+ Px7h R-5i+ P-6i Rx6i G-7i) (R-3g S-8f (N-9f N-9f G-8g Rx8g Sx8g G-7f G-7h S-8g+ Gx8g G-7f S-7g+ Sx7g S-8g+ K-8g S-6f S-8f) N-7f K-9h B-8f Gx8f S-8h G-9f G-7g P-4b+ Kx4b B-5e) (S-7g Gx7g S-7g+ Kx7g R-3g P-6g G-6f K-8h G-6g Sx6g Rx6g S-3a+ K-1b G-2b Gx2b Sx2b+ Kx2b S-3a+)... S-6i B-6c+ S-6g+ P-5h Rx5h G-8i (P-6f P-4b+ Bx4b N-2d Px2d Px2d N-3a S-4a P-5a R-7b) (S-7h+ Px7h B-6f S-7g Sx7g+ Gx7g Bx7g+ Kx7g (S-7e P-4b+ S-7f+ K-8h G-7g K-9h) S-6h K-8g R-6g K-9h G-9f B-5e K-1b G-9f S-8g K-9g S-7h P-7g Rx7g Bx7g Sx7g G-7h Sx7h G-7i) B-6f S-7g (N-5d N-5c+ S-7h+ Px7h S-7g+ Gx7g Bx7g+ Kx7g S-6g S-3a+ K-3a R-3a+ K-3a S-4b K-3b B-4a) S-7h+ Px7h S-6g S-8g S-7f+ Sx7f R-6h+ K-8f S-7f+ Kx7f S-7e+ K-8g G-7f K-8h G-7g K-9h R-6c+ Rx6c B-7f S-8g Gx8g Gx8g S-8f+ G-7f Sx7f B-5e G-4d Bx4d Px4d S-3a (Gx3a R-2c+)... B-9g+ Kx9g S-8h Gx8h R-3g P-6g S-7f+ S-7g G-8f Sx8f (Sx8f+ Kx8f R-4f S-6f S-7e K-9g G-8f K-9h N-7f P-4b+ N-8h+ Kx8h) R-4f B-7g Sx7g+ Sx7g B-6d S-8g N-7e S-7f+ Sx8g+ Gx8g (B-8f Sx8f S-7e P-4b+ Kx4b B-3a K-3c S-7e) P-7e B-6c+ P-7f B-6d P-7g+ Gx7g R-4h+ P-4b+ S-8h K-9f S-7g+ P-3b+ Kx3b R-3a+.
—I’m not hesitating anymore.
“—”
Like a flower blooming at the edge of a sea of clouds, the truth reveals itself in the final moment of concealment.
If I’m going to grab it—it has to be right now.
“...What?”
I made my move with only one second left on the buzzer. Togo’s face, which had been twisted in a smug grin, twitched.
“...What makes you think you’ve won? I’m not dead yet.”
I turned my eyes, now harboringa chilling crimson light, toward Togo and let a sharp smile spread across my face.
◇
I was about to follow Raizaki back into the venue when someone spoke to me.
“I was wondering what you meant by ‘follow me,’ but that was quite an interesting show.”
The voice belonged to the tournament organizer. If I remembered correctly... it was Tetsuro Suzuki, the prefectural chairman.
“One must not inform a player of the match’s status while it is in progress. However, you didn't say a single word about the board. Calling me over was the right move. —As was being the only one there.”
“Takebayashi-senpai... the president and the others had already looked at the board. I was the only one there who hadn't seen the state of the game yet. ...I’m not really good at this kind of thing, though.”
“...You deliberately sat far away from her seat where you couldn't see the board, anticipating this would happen?”
“Now, whatever could you mean?”
I just wanted Raizaki to get stronger. It would be a terrible waste for her to fall and stay down there.
“Heh, you’re a hard man to read. ...Your name?”
“Watanabe Mikado.”
“I see, Mikado-kun. I’d like to ask—are you interested in a dojo?”
“...A dojo?”
“Yes. Though it may not look like much, I have my own. It’s a small cradle compared to others, but we’re currently short-handed.”
It pained me to turn down such an offer, but I didn't have many good memories of dojos. Besides, based on Chairman Suzuki’s tone, he wasn't looking for a student; he was looking for someone to teach—an instructor or a master.
That made it even more of a ‘no’ for me.
“...Sorry. I don’t think I have the skills for that.”
“I see. Well, I apologize for the sudden request. I could have promised fairly good treatment, though.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll find someone who’ll jump at the chance.”
“I’ll keep a seat open. Ideally, I’d like a girl who’s good at looking after others.”
“Then I’m definitely not your guy.”
“Hahaha. ...Well then, excuse me. Good luck with the tournament.”
“Thank you.”
Chairman Suzuki headed toward the management room. I bowed and stepped back into the main hall where the matches were taking place.
“...Now then.”
The atmosphere in the venue was frozen. A sense of desperation—the kind that makes you uneasy just standing there—was directed at Raizaki.
No one was certain of her victory. No one had eyes full of expectation. At best, they were thinking about how to comfort her after she lost.
“Watanabe-kun...”
Takebayashi-senpai spotted me and approached with an anxious expression.
“...Ah, President. You haven't eaten lunch yet, have you? You should go eat now.”
“I’m your club president! I can’t just go eat while my precious teammate is in trouble!”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“What...?”
Apparently, he misunderstood and thought I had realized Raizaki was going to lose. I gave a small smile and told him.
“We’ve already won the semifinals. I’m telling you to go build up your strength for the finals.”
“...Are you being serious?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say to Raizaki?”
“I’m too tired to remember.”
“...I see. I suppose there’s no need to ask anything more.”
Takebayashi-senpai turned away and headed toward the break room.
“Tell her when it’s over. Tell her she did a good job.”
“Of course.”
I suspect the President had realized what was happening to some extent. Whether he had left it alone because he had the same idea as me, or because he wanted to trust in his junior's autonomy, I didn't know. But the fire burning in his eyes showed a strength that was different from Tojo or Aoi’s.
I turned back to watch Raizaki’s match. The frozen atmosphere was beginning to shift into something else.
(Are you really trying to come back from this hopeless situation? ...Stop this ugly struggle. You’re just going to stain the game record, Raizaki Natsu.)
Muttering this in his heart was the ace of Ginsan Dojo 26, Yoshinobu Togo.
I knew this man. Back when I was in elementary school, he was the one who represented the West District and fought in the top-tier classes of the prefecture. He was as stiff as he looked and had a tendency to look down on others.
Furthermore, since he was the type to think deeply about every move, he was weak to time pressure. However, in a 30-minute game with a 30-second byo-yomi like this one, he was in his element.
On the other hand, Raizaki was already in 30-second byo-yomi. Time effectively didn't exist for her. Having to play every move within thirty seconds until the end was a hellish pace that normal people couldn't endure.
But the current Raizaki was different.
(...What is that move?)
Togo felt a slight sense of wrongness in Raizaki’s play. But he didn't realize it yet.
A talent born from self-study—unknown and unpredictable—transcends the understanding of ordinary people and invites doubt. It was a move so abnormal that even Raizaki herself couldn't accept it. Yet, that single move was what demonstrated the possibilities of a human being.
It was an empty theory brought about by a mortal creature—a state beyond understanding, outside the normal range. An extreme move permitted only to humans.
“...Eh?”
The first one to notice the abnormality was the strongest player among us, Tojo Mika. She widened her eyes as she watched Raizaki play moves with total disregard for the sense of wrongness she had felt before.
Raizaki was in byo-yomi. That meant she was forced to play within thirty seconds. Normally, a human would use every bit of those thirty seconds. Even if they thought of the next move immediately, they would use the remaining time to read ahead.
Thirty seconds is precious. You have to use it all to think as much as possible.
And yet, Raizaki had been playing every move for a while now with absolutely no time taken.
Raizaki, who was supposed to be cornered, had abandoned using her precious thirty seconds and was instead applying time pressure to Togo, who still had plenty of time left. It was as if she were playing with a five-second byo-yomi.
The sheer insanity of it was far removed from her usual calm playstyle. It was a mad act, enough to leave even the great Tojo in shock.
But current Raizaki had no theoretical thoughts like calculation or rationality. She was playing purely on instinct. There was no logic there.
Around this time, Aoi and the Sakuma brothers began to understand as well.
“...Could this be...?”
“...!”
The corners of Tojo’s mouth turned up. The eyes of Nishigasaki High School, which should have been stained with despair, changed.
“...What is this...?”
The endgame. Togo, who had only needed to finish off Raizaki’s King, was gradually losing his composure due to her abnormal tenacity.
She wouldn't die. For some reason, she just wouldn't die. He was supposed to have her cornered, yet the more he attacked, the more she revived like a zombie.
Dropping small pieces to defend, repeatedly evading, and continuing to earn small amounts of points while looking for a counterattack—this was not a move set unleashed from a normal mental state.
(Wait, what is this? Why won't she crumble...? Why is the tide turning...?!)
Togo, who had been overwhelmingly dominant until now, fearfully pulled back his hand and looked up at Raizaki.
“...You... can you see my moves...?”
For the first time, the players from Ginsan Dojo turned anxious gazes toward Raizaki.
“—”
“—?!”
For a fleeting second, Togo caught a glimpse of Raizaki’s expression. He reacted as if he had been attacked by a wild beast. Breaking into a cold sweat, he moved into a full defensive stance.
But it’s too late. It’s far too late, Togo. Even I couldn't stop Raizaki now. After all, she’s standing at the very center of the world.
“I thought she wasn't playing well...?”
As Tojo whispered that, I smiled and denied it.
“Not at all. It was the opposite.”
“You’ve got to be kidding...?”
“I’m serious.”
Yes, Raizaki wasn't playing poorly. Quite the opposite—she was playing too well.
The massive expansion of thought caused by rapid growth and the breaking of concentration limits. Raizaki simply hadn't been able to keep up with her own ballooning abilities.
Yes, she had been in top condition from the start. That state of mind, that expression—by all accounts, she was on the verge of reaching the 'pinnacle.'
Raizaki had been terrified of the unknown moves being called forth from outside her experience. She had tried to play theoretically by forcibly removing them from her mind. But that was like throwing away the core move and choosing to play a weaker one on purpose.
Even though the correct answer was floating there, she couldn't accept the process and couldn't trust the result. That’s why she was in such agony, pouring all her nerves into suppression.
Far from playing at full strength, she was playing with full-strength restraint. That was why she had been cornered. Since she hadn't realized it herself, she must have felt a tremendous amount of fear.
But now, it was different. Raizaki was playing on instinct.
The power she had suppressed was released, and she was racing through the world in a state of self-forgetfulness.
Once, a legendary Shogi player said:
'Ayrton Senna said he saw God in a world of 300 km/h. Shogi, too, has a world of 300 km/h in the midst of thought.'
Raizaki was seeing that 300 km/h world right now. In the midst of her ever-accelerating thoughts, fear and excitement were rushing toward her beyond her perceived limits.
Whether or not you have the courage to step on the gas there—that is the branching point to the pinnacle.
“—”
And Raizaki, her hesitation gone, did not falter.
She unleashed everything with no time taken, setting free instinctive moves that threw away all efficiency. Full throttle, entering the extreme state at top speed. She charged into the region of uncontrollable acceleration with her whole soul.
“...She entered it.”
“...”
Tojo, realizing what had happened to Raizaki, looked at her as if seeing a superhuman.
Yes, in this very moment, Raizaki had touched the laws of the universe.
—She was in The Zone.
(Impossible...?!)
Raizaki’s crumbling defense was repaired in the blink of an eye, and before anyone knew it, it had become an iron fortress. Togo desperately searched for a counterattack to crush her, but Raizaki’s thoughts were one, even two steps ahead.
Of course they were. The current Raizaki was beyond the scope of normal human thought.
Since she was unleashing extreme moves that even the strongest Shogi AIs couldn't reach instantly, an ordinary person stood no chance.
In this moment, Raizaki had stepped into the celestial realm. A mind capable of the moves of the gods had taken up residence within her.
They say humans can't surpass calculating machines, but an awakened human’s thoughts can leap far beyond the common sense that can be measured by calculation.
Was it really okay for such a sense of omnipotence to be born from a person?
Beep.
“Wha—?!”
Togo’s time ran out, and he finally entered byo-yomi.
“No way... even Togo-san entered byo-yomi...?!”
The two of them, who had an overwhelming time difference before, now found themselves on the same stage. Even while being in byo-yomi, Raizaki had completely shaved away Togo’s remaining time. It was an impossible situation.
The reason Raizaki had focused on defense without attacking until now must have been for this very purpose. Looking at it now, her actions made perfect sense. But Raizaki herself wasn't thinking about that. Her instinct must have simply commanded her to do so.
“—”
The moment Togo’s time was gone, Raizaki stopped defending and launched a full-scale offensive.
“Urgh...?!”
Togo grimaced as he was struck where it hurt. He probably didn't know that Raizaki was aware of his weakness to time pressure.
But The Zone understands everything. The opponent’s expression, movements, emotions, and even their state of mind. It understands the full scope of the world it sees. And it derives the most optimal answer on the spot without any hesitation. This was that kind of unfairness.
I couldn't help but let my mouth curl into a smile. My excitement wouldn't stop.
(Have fun with it, Yoshinobu Togo. The one before you is the closest thing to a God of Shogi.)
What a pity. I wanted to be in that seat. I wanted to be her opponent. In a person’s long life, that moment only visits the chosen ones for a fleeting instant. To be able to play against that... there could be no greater luck.
Togo’s expression was filled with panic.
(...Don’t look down on me...! I’m the ace of the Ginsan Dojo!!)
Like fighting against a headwind, Togo unleashed a spirited move onto the board. A bold move, sacrificing a Gold. If she took it, it would be a fork on the King and Rook. If she ran, it would be mate. She had to respond.
“—”
However, one second after Togo made his move, Raizaki unleashed a counterattack with hundreds of times the power.
“What the...?!”
A counter-fork on his King and Rook, a tsumero to escape a tsumero. Raizaki had utilized her opponent’s finishing move to unleash her own.
And it was a guaranteed hit.
“Was she... was she always that strong... Raizaki...” Hayato Sakuma muttered, looking completely repulsed.
I suppose it’s no wonder he was shocked. Anyone would be. To read through a move I hadn't even finished reading yet in a split second—it felt like watching something that wasn't human.
“No way... Was she really the Uncrowned Queen...?”
“Are we going to lose to a bunch of students...? You’re kidding...”
“T-Togo-san losing... there’s no way...”
The players from Ginsan Dojo began to show expressions of despair.
“...!”
Raizaki stopped her hand, and Togo looked up from the board in surprise.
The poison hidden in the bouquet of flowers drifted away on the wind. She must have thought it was still possible. Beyond the point of keeping the pedal to the floor, she must have caught a glimpse of a new world again.
Raizaki looked up at Togo and gave him a smile that mixed the dread of a witch with incredible beauty.
“...I think I’ve been playing a bit too slowly. Shall we pick up the pace a little?”
Raizaki had climbed over yet another wall.
“...Eh?”
At the same time, the light vanished from Togo’s eyes.
◇
The tournament had entered its final stages, and team after team was being eliminated.
The venue, which had once been packed to the gills, was now airy and sparse. Most of those remaining were either spectators, players watching other matches, or those participating in the consolation rounds.
In the midst of this, our team—Nishigasaki High—which had been ignored until now, was gradually drawing a crowd. Before I knew it, a dozen people were staring intently at Raizaki and her opponent.
"Hey, isn't that the 'Uncrowned' girl...?"
"You're right. Is she seriously going toe-to-toe with the Togo-san? That’s insane."
They clearly didn't know how cornered Raizaki had been just moments ago. To them, it looked like an even fight.
Technically, the position was even.
But they didn't know the truth: Raizaki had been in a losing position. She hadn't started on even ground; she had clawed her way back to it.
Raizaki, who had already been playing at top speed, shifted her gears up another notch and unleashed a ferocious assault.
Togo, who had been on the offensive the entire time, was suddenly forced into a desperate defense.
"Impossible... Togo-san should have had the win secured...!!"
The members of the Ginsan Dojo watched with stunned expressions, their fists clenched in frustration.
"Guh...!"
Togo’s face contorted in agony as he desperately searched for a way to respond.
In contrast, Raizaki’s breathing remained perfectly steady. With a calm, rhythmic pulse, she instantly unraveled the complex board state, mercilessly reaping everything in her path.
Even Tojo probably wouldn't be able to keep up with the sheer speed and precision of Raizaki’s thoughts in this awakened state.
As the buzzers for their respective countdowns wailed incessantly, Raizaki looked up with a look of absolute certainty and addressed Togo.
"──Please retract that."
"What did you say...?"
Snap!
The sound of her fingers striking the game clock with her index and middle fingers echoed through the hall. Glaring at Togo, she demanded a correction of his earlier insult.
"What you said about me being the 'Uncrowned Queen'... please retract it."
"Grrk...!"
Togo’s face twisted violently.
To Raizaki, that retraction was everything. She was using her own strength to reclaim the dignity he had trampled upon. To a man like him, someone who seemed to know nothing of true suffering or failure, a nickname like that was just a cheap insult to be tossed aside.
"Don't get cocky, girl...! Don't think a nobody like you can talk back to me! There isn't a single person in this district who can match my skill!"
Togo's jaw tightened. In an explosion of rage, he pivoted back to the offensive.
His thoughts turned shallow, fueled by impatience and anger, as he rained down a series of checks.
However, there was an old saying: 'A check is just a chasing move.' Togo’s simplified attacks weren't cornering Raizaki; they were merely following her lead. Every time he moved, a small piece disappeared from his stand.
"Are you that afraid of losing your 'crown'?"
"Shut up..."
"I’ve always had nothing. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how desperate I was, I could never grasp a single thing. I was forced to carry that title of 'Uncrowned' wherever I went."
"...!"
Raizaki placed her hand on her piece stand. She began the final calculations to mate Togo’s King based on the positioning on the board and the number of pieces in hand.
Finally, she was moving in for the kill.
"But that title ends today. I will no longer be 'Uncrowned.' ──Because I am going to take everything from you!"
"Shut up!! ──"
Exploiting a tiny opening created by Raizaki’s offensive, Togo attempted a 'flesh-for-bone' counterattack.
But even before Togo could complete his move, Raizaki’s hand was already hovering over her next piece.
"Ginsan is the entity that will bring a revolution to Shogi! It is not a path for some mere student playing at games!!"
"I couldn't care less about your ideals. You’re just a 'King' who’s only ever walked on paved roads... don't you dare try to block my path──!"
The moment Togo played his piece, Raizaki slammed her own down in response.
Sparks of Silver, Gold, Knight, and Lance flew across the board, their very remnants crushed further by the major pieces.
The staggering exchange of blows that followed flashed like a bolt of lightning.
It wasn't an even brawl. It was something else entirely.
"Gwah...!?"
It was a total overwhelming. It was a masterpiece. From the Tennozan—the center of the board—Raizaki’s Bishop swept across like a reaper’s scythe, a 'Grand Cross' of light radiating from the center.
In that split-second clash of blades, every single one of Raizaki’s attacks landed with surgical precision.
Togo tried to sacrifice his Rook—the strongest piece—as a decoy to escape, but Raizaki didn't even blink. She ignored the Rook entirely, closing the net around Togo’s King.
This was the cognition of someone in the absolute zone; a non-human state where one only walks the path of the 'Best Move.'
A trap born from mere human logic had no hope of catching her.
"Guh...! Not yet! It’s not over yet...!"
Togo struggled desperately to reclaim control of the chaotic board.
In response, Raizaki moved to deliver the finishing blow.
"No. It is over. In thirty-seven moves──"
"...Huh?"
Suddenly, words that didn't sound human escaped Raizaki’s lips.
"What? ...Mate in thirty-seven... moves?"
Hayato repeated Raizaki’s words as if he’d misheard them.
A mate in thirty-seven—that meant no matter how he defended, victory was guaranteed within thirty-seven moves.
It wasn't a 'maybe.' It was a mathematical certainty. In Chess terms, it was Checkmate.
To find a thirty-seven-move mate in such a chaotic position was something rarely seen even in professional matches. To do it while under the pressure of the countdown meant she had calculated millions of branching possibilities in an instant.
The mental processing occurring inside Raizaki right now was simply beyond imagination.
"...She's bluffing."
"Then let's go see for ourselves."
As Raizaki continued to play move after move without hesitation, Togo’s face grew increasingly pale.
There was no way a mere amateur could read a thirty-seven-move mate in a real game. If she could, it was no longer a matter of Shogi technique. It was something that transcended human limits.
And yet, it is precisely such limit-breaking existence that people dream of.
"I-Impossible...!?"
Raizaki’s moves were unleashed with zero lag, zero doubt.
Like a conclusion rushing toward its predetermined answer, the match raced toward its end.
Running, running, and running further—at the end of a world reached by going full throttle, Raizaki had found the definitive answer.
And then, thirty-seven moves later──.
"............Huh?"
"............What is this...?"
"A-Ah..."
The spectators watching Raizaki’s match were speechless.
She had done exactly what she said she would. The position was a perfect, inescapable mate for Togo.
Just as she had declared, Raizaki had hunted down Togo’s King in exactly thirty-seven moves.
"Thank you for the game."
Raizaki bowed, ending the match while Togo remained frozen, unable to even utter the words of resignation.
"...Am I dreaming?"
"It’s real."
"Things like this... they actually happen in real life..."
"...That’s Shogi for you," I replied to a dazed Tojo, my voice filled with relief.
Tojo walked over to Raizaki, who had finished her match, to offer some words of praise.
"Good work, Raizaki. That was quite the match to watch──"
"Mikado-senpai──!!"
"Hey! Ignoring me again!?"
Raizaki blew right past Tojo and charged straight at me.
Wait, hold on. This feels like déjà vu──.
"I love you so much!!"
"Wait, gah!?"
"Raizaki!?"
With those words, Raizaki lunged at me with incredible force.
Since I was sitting down, my position was low, and Raizaki’s soft curves pressed right against my cheek, cutting off my air.
I thought I was going to suffocate, so I instinctively took a breath, only for the sweet, feminine scent unique to girls to tickle my nose, nearly shutting down my brain.
"You're always getting hugged by someone, aren't you..." Kaito muttered, looking at me with dead eyes.
I had no words to offer in my defense.
Regardless, thanks to Raizaki’s victory, we had secured the win against Ginsan Dojo 26.
The results were as follows:
Captain: Watanabe Mikado 〇
Vice-Captain: Kaito Sakuma ×
Third: Tsutomu Takebayashi 〇
Center: Raizaki Natsu 〇
Fifth: Aoi Rena 〇
Second: Hayato Sakuma ×
Vanguard: Tojo Mika ×
Four wins and three losses against the tournament favorites. We had pulled off a narrow but magnificent victory.
And so, Nishigasaki High—in our very first appearance—had made an unprecedented advance to the finals.
"...Raizaki, could you let go of me now?"
"Ehh! Why?! Just a little longer, please just let me stay like this for a little bit more! ...Sniff, huff... Ahh, I love Mikado-senpai’s scent..."
"No, it's just that... Tojo-san is giving me a really scary look..."
...I wonder if we’ll be okay for the finals.
◇
"Whoa, look at that. A student team made it to the finals."
"...For real. Wait, isn't that Tojo Mika? She's not the Captain?"
"Who's the guy playing Captain, anyway? Anyone seen him before?"
"Heck if I know. Never seen him."
The spectators were buzzing as they watched us prepare for the final round. The sharp, prickly atmosphere from the start of the day had vanished, replaced by a breathtaking tension that filled the hall.
"...I'm actually starting to get nervous."
"Even you get nervous, Tojo-san?"
"Well, look at who we're up against."
"Up against...?"
"Ah, right. Mikado-kun, you haven't seen them yet. Our opponents for the finals... they're on a whole different level."
"Seriously...?"
For someone like Tojo to be this visibly stiff, the opponents had to be monsters.
"Watanabe-kun, you've done well to get us this far. You've been a fine Captain."
"Thank you. But let’s save the praise until after we win."
"Ah, of course...!"
"By the way, where’s Raizaki..."
I glanced over at Raizaki and saw her standing there, radiating an almost terrifying level of concentration. I could practically see an aura of purple lightning crackling around her. Was I hallucinating?
"...Probably best not to talk to her right now."
In any case, Raizaki’s awakening was still in effect. At this rate, she was guaranteed to snatch at least one win.
Tojo had dropped her previous match, but her actual form wasn't bad. With her skill level, she should be able to win consistently, even in the finals.
Then there were Aoi and Takebayashi-senpai, who were still undefeated. I hadn't realized it until now, but they had even beaten their opponents from Ginsan Dojo. ...Wait, did those two hold back when they played me? The difference between their practice games and tournament play was night and day.
But this meant our team had at least four members with exceptionally high win rates.
Even the Sakuma brothers, though their win-loss record was a bit behind, had apparently only lost by the narrowest of margins in every match.
And most importantly, no one on the team had gone the entire day without a single win.
At the very least, the Nishigasaki High Shogi Club was incredibly strong—a true powerhouse squad.
"Alright, here come our opponents for the finals...!"
Takebayashi-senpai wore the crazed grin of a man about to face a wild beast as the final team entered the room from the break area.
"Wait."
I couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise. Several of them were famous players I recognized.
Takebayashi-senpai began to narrate as a flashy, attention-seeking guy led the group.
"That's Daichi Furune... like Sakuma-kun, he's a former Trainee. Apparently, he was even higher-ranked than Sakuma-kun back then."
Walking behind Daichi Furune was a man with his hands in his pockets, looking quite relaxed.
"That one is Seiya Narita. He might not look like it, but he’s a former West District Champion. He apparently got banned from the city for causing too much trouble at tournaments. Lately, he only shows his face at amateur official events."
...No way.
"The small, tanned girl behind him is Akari Aobara. I believe she was originally from the Central District... I wonder how she managed to enter this tournament."
"Is she strong?"
"'Strong' doesn't even begin to cover it. She's the ace of the 'Gaisen Dojo,' a place that prides itself on being undefeated. Come to think of it, she was the prefectural representative in the last Amateur Meijin tournament. To be honest, I think she’s only here for fun."
Takebayashi-senpai gave a strained laugh as he explained.
...Wait, hold on. That's already three of them, and they're all heavy hitters.
"As for the two behind her... I don't think I need to explain."
"Wait, those two are..."
I stared in shock at the faces I had seen earlier.
"Yeah. Vice-Chairman Masanobu Kawauchi, and Chairman Tetsuro Suzuki."
"The Chairman and Vice-Chairman who were giving the opening speech this morning?! Are they even allowed to participate?!"
"Rule-wise, it's perfectly fine. This is a tournament open to any amateur player."
Is he serious? So the Chairman and Vice-Chairman are actually active players...?
"And the girl behind them, who looks to be about a middle schooler... that's the pure-bred all-rounder known as the 'Demon of the West District,' the Vice-Captain, Reina Maicho."
"An all-rounder..."
The talent every Shogi player envied—an All-Rounder. A genius who can master every strategy at will, the absolute worst kind of opponent because they have no weaknesses.
I was technically an all-rounder too, but I didn't use the 'all-rounder' status itself as a weapon.
Someone who used universal tactical knowledge as their primary tool... a true all-rounder would be incredibly troublesome.
"And finally, the man at the very back is Tenryu Kazuki. ...There’s no need to say anything about him. He is the undisputed King currently reigning over the West District."
"...!"
The moment I saw him—Tenryu—it clicked.
That’s right, I remembered now. The man who carved his name into the Yellow Dragon matches. The legendary amateur player who had dragged the crumbling West District back into the ranks of the powerhouses.
Tenryu Kazuki... That was definitely his name. Even a shut-in like me who lived on the internet knew about a titan like him!
"...Seven members total. It's a team from hell."
"Ha... hahah..."
No wonder Tojo lost her confidence. Every single one of them was a top-tier player among top-tier players. Forget about winning—it was questionable if we could even make it a contest.
To face a team like that in the finals... I suppose it was a fitting 'final boss' encounter, but these guys were absolute legends.
"By the way, what’s up with that team name... 'Team Funakko'?"
Aoi glared at them with judgmental eyes.
...She was right. The team registration said 'Team Funakko.' How could they pick such a lighthearted name for a team with such a terrifying record?
Ignoring our confusion, the members of Team Funakko walked in with effortless composure and took their seats across from us.
"So, my opponent is... Watanabe Mikado... kun, was it? Nice to meet you."
"L-Likewise."
The man sitting in front of me was, of course, their ace: Tenryu Kazuki.
He looked to be about twenty, only slightly older than me. I'm one to talk, but he looked like an ordinary, unremarkable young man you could find anywhere.
But his atmosphere was entirely different. There was something massive—something astronomical—hidden beneath the surface.
What was this feeling? Just sitting across from him sent a chill down my spine──.
"──It's strange. I feel an atmosphere from you that’s very similar to my own."
"..."
Tenryu looked at me with eyes that seemed to have already measured my true depth, then slowly began to set up his pieces.
"He's not up to the task, Master," said the girl sitting next to Tenryu—the Vice-Captain, Reina Maicho.
"Who knows? We won't find out until we play."
"Really? He doesn't look that strong to me... oh, I see. My apologies."
Reina peered into my eyes, seemed to notice something, and then looked away.
What is with these people...? Can they read a person’s stats just by looking at them? That’s a total invasion of privacy.
"...Hey, I'd appreciate it if you focused on your opponent."
Kaito, apparently annoyed that Reina was reacting to me, glared at her with a sharp gaze.
"Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't started yet, so I thought I'd look around a bit."
"Already think you've won? You're one arrogant girl."
"Listen to you talk. Just so you know, I haven't lost a single official amateur match this season. ──Do you really think you can beat me?"
"Don't talk down to me."
Reina and Kaito locked eyes, sparks practically flying between them. The heat radiating from the seat next to me was already intense before we’d even begun.
"Well then, shall we get started? You can do the toss."
I nodded at Tenryu’s words.
The tossed pieces danced through the air. The first pieces that would decide our fates spun in the light. The five pawns tumbled across the board with a rhythmic clattering.
Every single pawn landed face-down, revealing five Tokin. The turn order was decided.
"...To think they'd all flip over. Lucky me," Tenryu remarked as I gathered the fallen pawns.
Since I was Gote—the second player—I was allowed to choose the placement of the game clock. I placed it on my right, my dominant side.
Tenryu gave a small smile and lightly brushed his hand over his piece stand with his left.
"Then, let’s begin──"
At Tenryu’s signal, everyone in the room held their breath.
""Thank you for the game.""
The West District Koryu Team Tournament Finals. ──The battle for the summit had finally begun.
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