Trash Kuzu Ryuo

It was started by some Shogi magazine but really took off when there was a piece on TV about her last year. I may have been a junior high pro and the youngest Ryuo in history, but I’m constantly hidden in her fame’s shadow. Gah …!

By the way, she doesn’t like her alias at all.

Only in junior high school, she said she “doesn’t need” the nickname “Naniwa’s Snow White” even though it’s more recognizable than “Naniwa’s Rocky” and “Naniwa’s Mozart” here in Osaka. It really rubs her the wrong way: although I’d be willing to bet most people would love to be in her shoes.

It’s proof of both her popularity and skill in the world of Shogi. Only real star players get dubbed a nickname. People like The Man Who’s Always 100 Million and Three Steps Ahead in One Second and The Early Game Edison and Wizard of the Final Curtain and Power of Youth and Virtuous Advance and Crouching Monk and Standard Preacher and Wood-Chopping Paul Bunyan and others are spine-chillingly cool. Now you might be thinking: wood chopping? That’s got nothing to do with Shogi! Just wood! But it strikes a real cord with the more refined Shogi fans.

“Haa … Such a pain.”

Her impromptu autograph session coming to a close, Ginko opens a parasol and lets out a long sigh.

“The annoying thing about having titles is that these things happen all the time …”

“Such an embarrassment of riches you have there, Sis.”

“Want your head on a pike?”

Oh, and by the way, both her titles are from women-only tournaments.

Six in all. My senior holds “Queen” and “Women’s Throne.” So “Princess” as an alias but “Queen” as a title: ironic, isn’t it (lol)?

Claiming all the titles isn’t some far-off dream for someone with her abilities, but she can’t with the rules how they are. I’ll get into that later, so look forward to it!

“Yaichi, stop twiddling your thumbs and start. Get it over with.”

“Take a look around, he wizzed all over the place …”

“Shogi players’ hands move before opening their mouths.”

Sure, sure. I buck up and start mopping.

“But my word, that incontinent geezer …! How the heck did he hit all the way over there?! How many liters did he spew?!”

“Can’t be helped. Everyone drinks lots of water during matches.”

It’s often said that the body craves sugar when the mind kicks into high gear, but Shogi players tend to find themselves craving something a bit more vital when choosing their next move.

Water.

Some players will bring upwards of five two-liter bottles to their matches and many will drink a whole cup between moves toward the end, meaning a lot of trips to the john.

To be a pro Shogi player is to be in a constant battle with your bladder and, all kidding aside, there’s a very real possibility of forfeiting a match because time ran out while in the restroom. I think I’ve spent enough time talking about pee.

“Apparently, regulation Go matches have built-in potty breaks. Now if only the Shogi World would catch on.”

“Weak …”

“Huh? You calling me weak, Big Sis? Okay then, what would you do if you couldn’t hold it in anymore?”

“Let it flow.”

“……?”

“Wetting yourself is nothing compared to the shame of losing a match, yes?”

She’s serious.

“Shogi is a battle of life and death, is it not? It’s a duel where only one comes out alive. There’s no time to worry about a little pee when your life is on the line.”

“You have so much in common with Master, it’s amazing.”

“Your head, on a pike.”

It pains me, but I’ve got to respect that. What is she, a feudal warlord? A girl like that would dominate the women’s Shogi world, no sweat.

Evening was upon us by the time she’d finally given me the okay. Thus, my long affair with the wiz fountain came to an end. And no, there are no bittersweet feelings.

“Yaichi.”

Big Sis stops me just as I was about to return the mop and bucket—and wraps her arm around my neck.

“I’ll give you … a treat.”

“Say what?! A-a treat, from you …? What in the world would—.”

“Here you go.”

Then she draped something stiff and starchy around my shoulders. Master’s suit pants.

“Why the hell would I want this?! What in blazes would I do with it at home?!”

“Take a whiff?”

“Why?! What kind of pervert would take his Master’s pants home to enjoy the smell?!”

“It’ll be a good memento.”

“Memento? Of what?! To induce nightmares about today every time I see them?!”

“The knee.”

Ok, that was unexpected. I stop and unfold Master’s pants.

The right knee is all wrinkled up but the left is nice and smooth.

“Rather than jumping at the first strategy that comes to mind, Shogi players resist the urge by squeezing their pants. That’s why a right-handed player’s right pant leg is always wrinkled, same for the left-handed ones but on the opposite side … Yes?”

Hearing her say that makes me glance at my own knees.

Sure enough, only the right side is wrinkled.

A Shogi player’s gut instincts are right seventy percent of the time. It’s pretty common for the first strategy they come up with to carry the day.

But the other thirty percent will snatch defeat from the claws of victory.

Especially when you think to yourself, “It’s perfect!” and charge straight ahead without thinking, turning your “perfect idea” into a horrible one. A lot of players end up losing that way every once in a while.

That’s why we endure.

Fight off the urge to make the move right away by squeezing our pants and read what’s on the board.

All these wrinkles are proof that Master didn’t hold anything back during the match. Irrefutable evidence that he took it seriously despite playing against his apprentice.

“… We used to copy that all the time, making these wrinkles.”

“… That we did.”

“We wanted to be like him so bad that we’d squeeze our right pant leg like he did, even when we weren’t playing, just to get the wrinkles.”

“And got yelled at right away for ruining our pants.”

The two of us force smiles, reminiscing about our younger days when we’d do anything to look like a pro.

Ginko hides her face behind her parasol and says, “… I think Master was happy to play against you. Probably been getting ready for a long time … Put in as much preparation as a league match, just as much focus and determination too. I think he gave you everything he had. So—.”

“… Yes. I know he did.”

I nodded and give Master’s pants a firm squeeze. I can tell by looking at the wrinkles: tell how he felt during our battle and how he felt doing what he did afterward.

Today, one of Shogi’s holy sites was blessed with a trickle of holy water.

It could very well have been Master’s passionate tears …

 TRASH KUZU RYUO

“You were about to call them garbage, weren’t you?! These, Master’s perfectly wonderful pants, and you’re treating them like garbage?!”

“No I’m not.”

“Then what were you going to say?!”

“G … racias.” (Thank you)

Spanish?!

“Um, could we just decide who takes the pants with a game of rock paper scissors? I’ve got no problem with the wrinkled knee, but there’s a really suspicious spot near the groin—.”

“Yaichi, tomorrow, are you free?”

“Huh? … Well, yeah. I’ve got a match the day after but not doing much of anything tomorrow.”

“Then versus, tomorrow afternoon at your place.”

“Versus” is what we call a one-on-one Shogi practice match. Big Sis has moved on, completely blowing off the pants.

“But tomorrow’s a weekday, yes? What about school? Going to play hooky?”

“Public school’s finished today. Spring break starts tomorrow … not that the unemployed Yaichi would know about it.”

“Unemployed …? Pro Shogi player, hello?”

Then again, I didn’t go to high school.

A lot of pro Shogi players have been going to high school and college recently, heck, most go to high school. But I became a professional in my third year of junior high, so there wasn’t much point in going the academic route. I gave up on it early on and chose this life.

But if I had gone to high school … I’d be a junior this year.

There wasn’t much for me outside of Shogi anyway, so I don’t regret my decision in the slightest. But if you were to ask if I was living the dream, happily playing Shogi every day, I’d say it’s not all fun and games …

“That’s fine Big Sis, but these pants—.”

“Tomorrow, versus in the afternoon. Forget and you’ll end up six feet under.”

With that strongly worded salutation, she struts off toward the station with the parasol over her head. I’m all alone, holding Master’s pants (stain and all).

“Haaa …… Might as well head home.”

I fold up the pants and stuff them into my second bag, pulling out my smartphone at the same time and turning it on.

Opening up my Internet browser right off the bat, I look at the “Shogi and Chess” message board and scan the list of threads for my name. Right at the top! I’m popular.

‘Folding cranes in hopes that KuzuRyuo Yaichi Kuzuryu loses the title of Ryuo.’ 108 pages (30% win rate)

“… And the list grows.”

I couldn’t check the message boards because I’m required by rule to turn off my phone before a match, but I’m sure there weren’t one hundred pages this morning. I’m really popular …

Since anyone can see matches online nowadays, the more passionate Shogi fans (?) flood the message boards while watching them in the afternoon. Okay, let’s see what they’re saying.

‘Only the fourth junior high pro and the youngest title holder in history, let’s hear what you have to say about the sixteen-years four-months old Yaichi Kuzuryu-Ryuo, the fastest ever to reach the top of the Shogi World!’

‘All his talent got used up in the Ryuo Title Match, piece of trash.’

‘Worked real hard for the high stakes Ryuo Title Match to get the green, but doesn’t do jack to prepare for anything else, total trash.’

‘Got no problem losing to other pros, but no, has to dismantle his Master. Kuzu gives trash a bad name.’

‘Just came. How’d the match go? He pulled off Gratitude?’

‘Holed up like a badger and slaughtered his Master.’

‘Seriously …? Wow, Kuzu’s trash.’

‘But it wasn’t a league match, so the slump continues!’

‘I tell you, his matches have been a yawn fest ever since he claimed the title.’

‘Got that right. Gives up on a dime, plays defensively and never attacks anymore.’

‘All by the books, nothing else. Boring and always loses, worst Ryuo ever, Kuzu Ryuo.’

‘He’ll lose the title if this losing streak keeps up all the way to October. Now that’d be legendary.’

‘Become the youngest to receive and lose a title ever … The guy’s a genius.’

‘What’ll happen if he loses the title?’

‘He was 8-dan during the Ryuo Title Match, so you go back to being Yaichi Kuzuryu 8-dan.’

‘818-dan. Lolol’

‘That’d outrank Ryuo for sure! Haha.’

‘Might as well get back to work folding these cranes, praying that he rises to the great 818.’

… That’s the last one I read before slipping my phone into my pocket. Man, I feel sick …

My thread exploded right around the Ryuo Title Match, but then turned vicious at the drop of a hat once I took the title.

When I lose, I’m “disgracing the name of Ryuo.” But if I win, my play style was “boring.” Where is all this hate coming from? If only I knew why.

Meanwhile, people start threads about Ginko called “’The really cute’ Ginko Sora Support Thread ‘strongest in history’.” Fans love her. The envy … oh, the envy …

I–Yaichi Kuzuryu, am a professional Shogi player.

Pro Shogi players are members of the “Japan Shogi Association” … Basically people who get paid to participate in Shogi matches. Therefore, I’m not unemployed.

Anyone, no matter how old, man or woman, disabled in any way, shape or form can go pro as long as they’re good at Shogi. If they’re very good, fame and fortune are just a matter of time. But they’ll be forced to retire after ten years if not good enough.

Strength is the be-all end-all in the world of Shogi, where only the strongest players survive.

That’s pro Shogi, plain and simple.

There is, however, one condition other than strength required to become a professional.

That’s having a “Master.”

You need someone who’s already a professional to take you under their wing before you can become a professional yourself.

This Master-apprentice relationship may be the pillar that holds up the Shogi world … And I can’t speak for how things are on the outside, but there’s no advantage to taking on an apprentice in the world of Shogi.

It’s a long-held tradition that Masters receive no awards or payment of any kind for training their apprentices.

I have no idea how many matches Master Kiyotaki has played with me and Big Sis since we became his apprentices back when we were kids, probably tens of thousands. He sacrificed all of that time and energy so that we could improve.

“And I had to go and beat him in a match after everything he’s done …”

I know this Master-apprentice system is necessary to keep the Shogi world healthy and growing, but I can’t think of a single good reason to take an apprentice myself. Will the day come when I lose to an apprentice of mine and want to pee out the window …?

“Well … Even if I do take an apprentice, that’s still a long way down the road!”

I’m not the only person to hold the title in their teens, but I’ve never heard of anyone around my age taking an apprentice.

Even if I do take one, that won’t be until I’m in my twenties at the earliest and sacrificing my own time to train someone else is the last thing on my mind. ‘Can’t even take care of himself’—the message boards would have a field day …

I rode that train of thought all the way home.

I live by myself in the middle of the shopping district just down the street from the Shogi Association Headquarters. The walk doesn’t even take ten minutes.

I make my way up past the doors, with no autolock and no elevator in sight, to my room on the second floor of this shabby old apartment building. I open the door and try to stave off the loneliness that accompanies people who live on their own with a happy greeting.

“I’m home! Not that there’s anyone here to say hellooooooooooooo?!”

There is.

Someone’s here, in this room that should be empty.

A little girl I’ve never seen before—a girl who looks like an elementary school student no less, is right there, and greets me with a bubbly smile the moment she sees my face.