Grand Entrance! Silver Knight

TO THE ASSOCIATION

“It’s … I don’t know. Easy to find!”

“Probably because of the giant letters spelling it out on the side of the wall. Sho gi kai kan.”

The five-story building is a two-minute walk from Fukushima Station, just one stop down from Osaka Station on the Kanjou line.

It’s the Kansai branch headquarters of the Japan Shogi Association, Kansai Shogi Kaikan—or just the association for short.

Today I’m going to register Ai for the Practice League test before my official match.

Big Sis got pissed and went home after dinner yesterday, but Ai and I spent the night at Master’s place. Then, after eating a warm breakfast Keika made for us, we stopped at my place to change clothes before coming here.

“Is-is it really okay for anyone to go inside?”

“The first floor’s all restaurants and stores, and the classroom is on the second, so yeah. It’s from the third floor on up that people need clearance. Now, let’s head in.”

“Y– … Yes!”

Ai takes a brave step forward as I give her a verbal push.

I open the door.

And there’s Big Sis standing right there.

“……”

“……”

“……”

Man, this is awkward.

“…… Loli King.”

She quietly spits into my ear on her way past my shoulder before opening her parasol and heading off somewhere without another word. Was that supposed to be a new title …?

Big Sis knows I only took Ai as my apprentice (temp.) because Master told me to, but Naniwa’s Snow White was glaring ice cold daggers at us. I should start calling her “Queen Elsa” at this point.

It’s almost as if Master’s seal of approval being stamped on the whole thing is what really got under her skin.

Ai tilts her head as the two of us watch Big Sis disappear into the busy morning streets.

“… What was Auntie doing here?”

“Probably signing autographs and fans. She’s a popular player after all … And, yeah, never call her Auntie to her face, okay?”

’Cause it’s my life that’s on the line.

Once we make it further inside, Ai squeals with glee at the sight of all the stores lining the right side of the hallway.

“Oh, wow! Are all of these Shogi books?!”

One shop at the corner of the floor has mountains of Shogi books and goods on display. Signed books are just the beginning: they’ve got anything you could ever want. They invite you to please stop in and have a look for yourself.

“Whoa … This board and pieces are so fancy … No way?! One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand … one million yen?! Wow! Wow!” she yells, pressing her forehead against the display case and absolutely beside herself.

She’s like the Alps Boy who found a trumpet in the shop window. The lady at the register smiles with her eyes as if watching something precious.

But what really got Ai excited at the shop was–––.

“Master! Master! They have fans!”

“Of course they do.”

Fans autographed by popular pros are some of their best sellers. It’s because you feel that much stronger just by having one in your hand!

“Fhuuah … So many hard words (>-<),” says Ai as she opens up one of the sample fans to read it. There must be quite a few characters that a third grader can’t quite comprehend just yet because she’s tilting her head and mumbling, “Huh? Huh? How do you read this? Ipposenkin?”

“That’s ippu senkin. It means there are times that one Pawn is more valuable than one thousand pieces of Gold. It’s a Shogi saying.”

“And this one? Tobu …?”

“Hishou actually. The writer is probably telling people to grow as if determined to fly in the sky.”

“This one?”

“Konton.”

“And that means …?”

“Huh? … Like really messed up chaos, I guess.”

“Why write that?”

“… Beats me.”

Since everyone writes something different, sometimes only the writer knows what it really means. My Master’s fan says, “My prime starts tomorrow.” Frickin’ awesome!

“… Not this … That’s not it …”

“What’re you looking for?”

“All pros have their own signed fans, right?”

“Nah, just the popular ones.”

“Popular?”

“Legendary players from the past, A–classers … And pros with titles usually make autographed fans.”

“Ahhh …!” Ai’s face lights up like fireworks.

“So you have one, right Master?!”

“Hm? Uh, yeah …”

I carefully hide the sample fan with my name on it behind the shelf so Ai can’t see.

My handwriting is a bit too unique, so:

“Kuzu Ryuo writes like trash too lol …”

“He’ll never live down the shame …”

“I’d give back the title in his shoes.”

The net had a field day. Like hell I’d let Ai see a premium fan like that.

… Can you blame me? I never thought I’d win a title …… Otherwise, I’d have worked on my penmanship …

“Hm … That’s weird. I’ve seen them here before … Ah! I bet they’re sold out!”

“I knew it, Master! You’re so popular!!”

“Hahaha. Well, shall we head up?”

I lead her away from the shop with a dry laugh.

I gotta remember to put the fan back later …

 NEW APPRENTICE REGISTRATION

Ai starts pulling at my sleeve. The second letters spelling out Shogi Doujo come into view.

“!! !!”

Ai’s looking at me with a burgeoning expectation.

I force a smile and say, “We’ve got to get you registered for the test in the upstairs office first. I want to introduce you to the staff too.”

“But——!”

“You’ll be playing before you know it.”

She starts mumbling to herself as if the anticipation is killing her while I steer her away from the door with my hand on her back.

I was the same way back then … I bask in nostalgia as we arrive on the third floor.

This is where the association’s office is, and it’s full of staff members.

“Ex-cuse us.”

“Oh, Yaichi … I mean Kuzuryu-sensei. Good morning.”

One of the guys I know pretty well—then again, I’ve been coming here for ten years so I know everybody, but one of the veterans of the group comes forward to help us.

He used to scold me a lot back when I was a kid, sort of like a teacher at school. So it feels a little weird for him to address me as Sensei since I became a pro.

The staff is hard at work making the association run smoothly. They’re even more important than pro Shogi players in a way.

No one would really notice if five or ten of us weren’t here, but matches couldn’t even get started if even one of them were gone.

I smile as wide as my lips will go and introduce Ai.

“I’m here today to set everything up for this girl here … Has any word come in?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard, I’ve heard.”

His line of sight locks in on Ai, hiding at my side, and says, “Sora-sensei just informed us: a pervert holding an elementary school girl captive at home is on his way here and she told us to contact the police on sight.”

Damn it Ginko …

“N-not Big Sis too! Me, kidnap a grade schooler? You know I’d never do that, right?”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.”

Ha-ha-ha. We share a good laugh right away.

“Well then, who is this cute young lady?”

“I’m his live-in apprentice!” says Ai bubbling over with pride before I can answer. My brain feels like it’s going to explode.

“HUH?!”

Every staff member on the floor raises their voice in unison.

Everyone who was pretending not to listen heard every word … Hey, hey, why is she reaching for the phone? What’s with their reaction? This some kind of gag?

“A, um … live-in apprentice, Kuzuryu-sensei? In this day and age? A grade school girl?”

“No, what? Ah, umm …”

There’s no choice but to power through at this point. So I make a calm, composed, “Yes she is. Is that a problem?” kind of face and nod. “Yes. Per my Master’s instruction.”

“O-Oh, I see … The Kiyotaki line …”

The fact that Master took Big Sis and I as live-in apprentices when we were really young is pretty well known. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that, as someone in his line, I would take on a young live-in apprentice of my own. Nothing strange or unnatural about it at all!

“And look here, I’ve got a letter from my Master as well.”

“That you do …”

“And she’s only staying with me until the Practice League test is over.”

I explain that Ai is from the north coast, that she wants to enter the Practice League in hopes of one day joining the Women’s League, and that my Master has spoken with her parents, one after the other, while confirming the test date.

“And you know, it’s spring break right now, yes? It’d be better for her to focus on studying here in Osaka. Then she’ll commute from her home on the north coast once she’s passed the test.”

“Oh, if that’s how it is then–––.”

Just then I saw a glimmer of recognition pass across his face in that moment.

“What?! I want to live with you from now on, Master!”

Whispers! Another uneasy aura sweeps through the office. Me, I’m panicking.

“Wait, Ai. Miss Ai. Listen …”

“I’ll do anything you ask! I’ll do the cooking! Cleaning and laundry too! A-and other things … if that’s what Master wants …”

Whisper, whisper, whisper …

“Heeeeeeey! Do you want everyone to get the wrong idea?! Never once have I said anything like that?! Right?!”

“B-But … What about the try out a little girl …?”

“Kuzuryu-sensei …”

“No, no, not at all! That was Big Sis trying to embarrass me!!”

I desperately try to explain, as if my life depended on it. I didn’t take on a grade schooler as a live-in apprentice because I wanted to!! That’s the truth!!

“Look, I like older women like Keika! I’ve no interest in younger girls whatsoever! You know that, right?! How long have we known each other?!”

“………… All right. I trust you, Sensei.”

It looks like he finally understands the situation. Trust built up over a decade has won the day. After all, the most important thing to pro Shogi players is trust.

The two of us were smiling right after that, catching up on recent news while getting the apprentice registration and Practice League test application squared away. I worked really hard on the paperwork but couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing his best not to look me in the eye behind that glued-on smile he wore from start to finish.

Once everything was done and we were just about to leave the office, he gave me a serious look, a look more serious than I’ve ever seen in the ten-plus years I’ve known him. “Kuzuryu-sensei,” he said.

“Yes?”

“…… Everything is on the level, right?”

He doesn’t trust me at all.

 THE ASSOCIATION'S CLASSROOM

“Haa … I was so nervous—.”

“You and me both …”

Knowing I was one wrong step away from becoming a social outcast really had me on edge. I’m not entirely sure there wasn’t a misstep somewhere.

I’ve already gone on the offensive, destroyed weird rumors before they spread. Now how will things play out …?

Well, there’s really no point in worrying about that now.

Playing Shogi is to think ahead, but pros misread each other all the time. Therefore, it always ends up being a read and react kind of philosophy in the end: so take care when you can and the rest will work itself out.

“Oh, and Master.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s the Practice League?”

My foot nearly misses the next stair step.

“Seriously, you … We explained it to you in and out, IN AND OUT, last night, didn’t we?”

“Uh, ummm ………… The okonomiyaki was just so good that … that …”

Ai makes her excuse, scratching her fingernails across the stairwell railing. I can’t deny that Keika’s okonomiyaki is delicious. This girl ate three of them by herself. What does she think they are: pancakes?

“… The Practice League is like a school for people who want to join the Women’s League. You play against other people wanting to become pros and your rank goes up if you win.”

“Win the fight and your rank goes up … It’s just like a game!”

“Shogi is a game, you know.”

An advanced board game that has dominated a certain world for over a thousand years: that’s SHOGI.

“Everyone starts out in F-Class. You go up to E2, E1, D2, D1 and C2 from there. Anyone with a C1 ranking has the right to join the Women’s League.”

“If I join the Women’s League, will Shogi be my job like it is for you, Master?”

“They don’t have as many matches as pros do, but yeah.”

“What’s the difference between pros and Women’s League Players?”

“That’s complicated, so I’ll save that explanation for later.”

I point my thumb toward the second floor classroom entrance and say, “I’m sure that’s more interesting right now, yes?”

“Yep!!”

Then, I open the classroom door and walk inside with my apprentice (temp.).

The classroom is full of kids.

Usually it’s overflowing with senior citizens at this hour, but since spring break started yesterday for all the public schools, all the young boys and girls with a taste for Shogi come here in the morning on weekdays too. It’s nice to hear all those pieces clacking away.

From what I can see, most of these kids are in elementary school or younger. Maybe they’re part of a children’s class?

“I’d like to make a Match Card for her–––,” I say to the classroom staff member sitting behind the counter and start to introduce Ai.

However.

Every single child in the room turned to face me at once before I could finish and say, “D—.”

D?

“Sign this!”

“Sign please!”

“Can I have your autograph?!”

“Dragkin, play me!”

The children rush me. Not a single one of them calls me Ryuo. They pull, bump, nudge, push, kick. The kids show no restraint or respect as they trample over me, calling me whatever they please.

Ai is such a good kid, I forgot that this is how grade schoolers usually are. But please, stop with the Dragkin already!

“All right, line up! One line here … No, make three lines!!”

I get them to line up on one side of the long table and pull Ai around to the other. Then I put three Shogi boards on top of the table.

One person against three opponents at the same time—sanmensashi, three on one.

“Beat her and I’ll sign whatever you want.”

“Who’s this?”

“Who’s that girl?”

“My apprentice (temp.),” I say.

“Apprentice?”

“Baby Dragon!”

“Is Baby Dragon strong?”

“Extremely strong,” I tell them.

“So I beat Baby Dragon and you’ll give me an autograph?”

“What’s the handicap?”

“Match? Hmm, good question … No handicaps for anyone should be fine.”

I carry a chair with caster wheels over to the table and tell Ai to take a seat and say, “Ai. Three on one. You up for it?”

“Y-Yes!” I don’t blame her for being a bit surprised at first, but “Here we go!!” she says, swinging her arms and psyching herself up for battle.

The first kid in each line starts lining up the pieces. Ai’s having a tough time because she has to set up three boards by herself.

“Ready when you are!”

The matches begin just as the last pieces fall into place.

I take a look at the Match Cards that the children have placed between the piece stand and the board. It’s sort of like a classroom ID, a green card with their name, rank and recent win-loss record written on it.

The best ones are 2-dan, the lowest are beginners … Now, how many games can she win?

It’s extremely difficult for someone facing multiple opponents to focus on one game, so it’s difficult to win even if said someone is stronger than their opponents.

However, Ai is in overdrive.

Normal kids plow straight ahead with the first strategy they think of without taking any time to read the board. They make a lot of mistakes, so it’s pretty common for one wrong move to bring the match to a swift and sudden end.

Meanwhile, Ai’s right fist is clutching the hem of her skirt today too. Not only is she deciphering further and faster than anyone, she’s being careful. Ai’s in her element.

Her talent is on a whole different level from any of the kids here.

“Baby Dragon is a monster!”

“I can’t beat her …”

All twenty of them were laid to waste in forty minutes.

I was expecting her to lose one or two matches, but to win every single one …

“Haa … Haa … ah. Thank you, for playing me …”

Ai puts the last kid in checkmate, shoulders heaving as she lowers her head. She’s soaked with sweat. Sliding back and forth on those casters at high speed while making moves on three boards really takes a physical toll. It’s a Shogi shuttle run after all.

“S-sensei, where should we rank her …?” The understandably stunned classroom staff member asks with a blank Match Card in her hand.

“Two … No. Start her off as a 1-dan please. Oh, here’s the admission fee. She’s going to be here all day.”

In terms of ability, 2-dan or 3-dan would be a better fit for her, but I want to give her as many chances as possible to feel the joy that comes from winning her way up the ladder. I put her in 1-dan like a parent wanting what’s best for their children.

Then again, Ai’s still a raw amateur with only three months’ experience. Thinking logically, it’d be insane to put her 1-dan.

“Ai!”

I take the card from the staff member and hand it to Ai, who keeps shaking her skirt back and forth without realizing her white panties are in plain sight.

“This is your Match Card. Think you can fill it up with white stars?”

“… Yep!!”

Miss Ai Hinatsuru: 1-dan–––Ai lifts the green card with her name on it with both hands, looking at it like she’s found the greatest treasure in all the land. My first apprentice (temp.) smiles from ear to ear.

 GRAND ENTRANCE! SILVER KNIGHT

“Yay! Yummy yummy thank y–♡”

I buy her a pack of orange juice out of the classroom vending machine. She plunges the straw straight in and starts glugging it down before saying thank you. Playing Shogi makes everyone thirsty.

“Gpppah! … Master, you have a match today, right? What time does it start?”

“From 10.”

“It does?! Shouldn’t you hurry up?!”

“Hurry up …? It doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes.”

There’s really nothing to do to get ready before a match, so going in early would just mean I sit in front of the board in awkward silence.

Plus, this is a Throne League match with four hours of in-game waiting time. It’ll go well into the night.

I’ll run out of steam halfway through if I go in with too much zip.

“The arena is right upstairs. Showing up at the last minute is no problem.”

“Y-Yes it is! You should always start five minutes early!”

She pushes against my back, trying to get me to move. What doesn’t she understand about there being fifteen minutes left?

“Alright then, would you like to see the arena?”

“May I?!”

“As long as you’re with me.”

The arena above the fourth floor is kept off limits as a general rule … But the Kansai Shogi Association lets people who use the classroom watch regulated matches as a service, so they wouldn’t say no to a tour. And, for a fee, you can rent out the space for yourself too.

“This is the Match Board. These magnets with players’ names on them show who’s playing who in what arena each day.”

I start explaining lots of things as the two of us make it to the fifth-floor entrance at the top of the stairs.

“The loser comes out here and lowers their magnet after the match is over. That system lets everyone know the results.”

“Wow …”

Ai looked a bit shy at first, but her curiosity seems to have taken over. Those eyes are absolutely sparkling.

“So your match today is in … Gyouedan no Aida?”

“That’s Onjyoudan no Ma.”

“And you are facing … Kami, Kami … Umm, how do you read that?”

“Kannabe. Ayumu Kannabe 6-dan. He’s an up-and-coming pro from the Kanto area.”

I was halfway out of my shoes and about to lead her inside the arena when from out of nowhere!