Sealed Move: Deadly Poison

If I told someone that the reigning queen of the female professional shogi world was currently standing right behind me, how many people would actually believe it?

I still can’t believe it myself. The fact that the Mizuki Yumeno is actually coming to my house.

"W-We’re here."

"Is this your house, Natsu?"

"Yes. Sorry... it’s a bit of a mess."

Yumeno-san, who had appeared behind me without making a sound, cast a glance over the exterior of the house—the entrance, the windows, and the roof.

The area around my house was, frankly, dirty. The yard wasn't well-maintained; cobwebs clung to the corners, and moss was creeping up the walls.

Despite that, Yumeno-san didn't look displeased at all. She simply nodded.

"It’s lovely."

With that, she headed toward the front door ahead of me.

I was the one who had invited her.

Opportunities to sit across from a female pro are virtually non-existent. Five minutes, ten minutes—it didn't matter. I had begged her to teach me, even if it was just a tiny fraction of her wisdom.

Yumeno-san agreed to give me a short lesson on one condition: 'Make sure you go to school properly.' Apparently, she’d already realized I’d been skipping.

I hadn't planned on taking another day off anyway, so I’d gone to school and stayed through all my classes. During the day, the boys in my class had been strangely persistent in talking to me, but I figured they were just curious about the "truant student" returning to the fold.

Besides, there were no club activities today, so I was able to get home a bit early.

I’d seen Mikado-senpai at the school entrance on my way out and wanted to say something, but he had such a grim expression on his face that I didn't feel like I could approach him.

After meeting up with Yumeno-san at the appointed time, I brought her back to my place for the lesson.

"Well then, pardon the intrusion. Are your parents home?"

"Not right now."

"Oh dear. That makes me the wicked older sister who snuck into a girl’s house, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't."

I’d felt this since the moment we met, but Yumeno-san is quite the joker. It makes her expressionless face—which usually hides her thoughts behind a mask—look a little more cheerful.

I led Yumeno-san into the living room, where the afternoon sun reflected off the neighboring house’s windows and poured inside.

"I’ll tell you this upfront: my way of teaching 'doesn't fit the current era.' Is that alright with you?"

"You are a member of the 'Second Generation,' after all..."

"Well informed, aren't you?"

"You’re one of the heroes."

Yes, if she truly is Yumeno Mizuki, then she is one of the heroes of the Second Generation.

The revolutionaries... As someone living in the Third Generation, I thought it didn't have much to do with me, but after seeing that massive gap in our strength, I couldn't ignore it.

Or perhaps there’s such an incomparable difference in skill between my generation and hers?

Even more so than... Mikado-senpai.

"Natsu, your shogi is very pure and honest. But it’s only pretty and beautiful."

"My shogi is... pretty?"

"Yes. Pretty enough for me to fall in love with it at first sight. Both your shogi and you yourself."

"Fheh...?"

Oh no, I made a weird sound. Yumeno-san’s way of talking is somewhat similar to Mikado-senpai’s, and it makes it hard to keep my cool sometimes.

Overcome with embarrassment, I looked away and hurried to set up on the living room table. It was a rubber shogi board with plastic pieces.

I turned the box over and spilled the pieces out; Yumeno-san began lining them up on the board without a moment's hesitation.

"But shogi that is only pretty and beautiful leads to nothing but a pathetic ruin."

"...?"

As if remembering something, Yumeno-san stared off into the distance as she spoke.

"I absolutely hate 'art,' so I turn everything that attracts people into a weapon. ...Therefore, what I am going to teach you is shogi that kills."

I take it back. This person is nothing like Mikado-senpai. The things she says sometimes are way too scary.

"Don't be so wary. It’s just shogi."

Her gaze—a mix of crimson and silver—carried her joke along with it.

"Now then, let's start by recalibrating your senses. Alright, look at the board—"

"Eh? Oh, yes."

Prompted by Yumeno-san, I looked down at the board she’d finished setting up while I wasn't looking. In that instant, I felt a wave of discomfort so strong I almost groaned.

The position was a mutual Entering King—specifically, the state where a massive number of promoted pieces had been generated, turning it into what they call a 'point-count' battle.

"What are your thoughts on this?"

"...I don't want to play it."

"Then play it anyway. Find the next move that will absolutely win. You have ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven—"

"Um, uh... King to 1-I?"

"Hmm. Answering in five seconds is commendable. But it’s dead wrong."

"Ugh..."

Honestly, there was no way to figure it out in such a short time. The board was so cluttered that it would take over a minute just to grasp the situation.

"I told you to find the move that would absolutely win. The correct answer is: 'I declare victory.'"

"...What?"

"This position already satisfies the conditions for the 27-Point Rule. Therefore, the Entering King Declaration is valid."

"Th-There’s no way I could calculate all that in ten seconds!"

"Wrong. You couldn't do it because you couldn't overcome the fear of being wrong when you weren't certain. Right?"

"...!"

It was a sophistry. But at the same time, it was a precise rebuttal that pierced through to my true intent.

If this were a situation where I absolutely had to win, a victory that could only be seized at this very moment, then I would have indeed made a mistake by choosing a defensive move for self-preservation.

But isn't it perfectly natural for a person to hesitate when faced with a risky move...?

"Next, we’ll detect that 'fear.' In shogi, if there is fear, it becomes a bad move. First, become aware of your own fear."

Yumeno-san picked up the pieces again and began setting a new board. Without any unnecessary explanation, she provided instruction using only the minimum necessary words.

"I’m going to give you ten 'next-move' problems, each a sequence of three moves. The time limit is thirty seconds. I won't blame you if you can't answer, but silent thinking is forbidden. Read the moves while speaking your thoughts out loud. Give voice to your fear. Say things like 'It’s scary to let the King escape here' or 'I feel like I’ll lose with this move,' no matter how trivial it seems. Speak."

"I... I understand."

I tried doing as I was told. The problems she gave me were all difficult ones that involved the danger of my own King; I couldn't find the right answer if I only thought about one-sided offensive lines like in tsume-shogi.

But I verbalized those thoughts as I played.

Every time Yumeno-san heard what kind of moves I was considering, she revised the problem to make it even more malicious.

And at the same time, my accuracy rate gradually began to drop.

"Good. Keep it up. Be more honest about your feelings. I’m intentionally creating positions in the forms you hate most. Look at the shapes you dislike over and over; get your eyes used to them."

By the time I reached the tenth problem—.

"This... is impossible..."

"If you say it’s impossible, then it’s over. That’s why you do it. If you think it’s impossible, break down the reasons why and think about them one by one. Don't run away now; just accept the shape of it. Come on, twenty seconds left."

With a grimace, I faced the board.

The position was the endgame. A battle was unfolding around a mid-row King, much like the Self-Destruction Style played by Mikado-senpai.

Should I defend? Should I attack? Should I go for a piece advantage, or should I aim for an Entering King?

There were a vast number of options, and most of them involved risky sequences.

There was no way I could read them all. I couldn't read them, but...

"......King to 5-E."

"Rook to 8-E, check and fork on the Bishop."

"King to 6-D."

"...Good. Your first correct answer."

I had played the worst sequence I could think of. Among the candidate moves I’d considered, it was the one with the highest risk—the one I wanted to play the least.

But I only felt that way because I couldn't read the sequence to the end; my intuition understood that it was among the correct candidate moves.

A dangerous move, but perhaps the right one. I used to play moves like that back when I’d first reached the dan ranks, but as I got stronger, I started to avoid them.

Victory in shogi doesn't come from playing strong moves; it comes from not playing weak moves.

How long had it been since I’d played such a risky move?

"The sequence you don't want to play is a sequence your opponent will let their guard down against, thinking you won't play it either. ...And even if you do play it, they won't understand it. That obscure move, which seems like a mediocre or slow one, will dissolve into your 'pretty' moves without making a sound."

She played out the moves as if reproducing the continuation of that match, and in just seven moves, she had forced the opponent's King into a hishi [inescapable] position.

Both sides were supposed to have been playing the best moves, and the position had looked even, yet I had somehow come out with an overwhelming advantage.

...It felt like I was seeing an illusion.

"—'Deadly poison' is something that’s already too late by the time you notice it."

That was the exact playstyle of Yumeno-san’s that I’d experienced this morning.

And now, she had demonstrated it by picking up where my sequence left off. —The one who created that starting point was, ultimately, me.

"I... played that?"

"Yes. This is the move you played. For a single instant just now, you played with the same skill as I do."

My thoughts couldn't keep up. I was simply stunned.

It had only been thirty minutes... the long hand of the clock hadn't even made a full rotation since she’d arrived.

I felt something quietly shifting deep within my chest; my bewilderment came even before the excitement.

I’d played a move I would have normally never played in my life. My brain had understood that it was something 'playable.'

When I looked up, she was resting her chin on her hand, smiling with satisfaction.

"Bees won't visit an ugly flower even if you give it poison—Natsu, you have such a pretty face for someone who kills people, don't you? You’re just like me. Hehe."

"...Haha."

A dry laugh was all I could manage.