If I Become a Meijin, Will you Marry me, Master? - Chapter 12

Ding-dong!

I pressed the intercom in front of the door of an apartment, but there was no response.

“Huh? This is the right place, isn’t it? The building name and apartment number should be correct…”

I double-checked the address from the New Year’s card I brought from home and compared it with the number plate on the door.

Yeah. This is definitely the right room.

“Um, Master? Starting today, I’m on spring break.”

“Yeah, must be nice to be a student.”

Starting in April, Momoka would be a third-year middle schooler.

So, she still had another year to carry the title of “middle school shogi prodigy.”

“And yet, here I am, on the first day of spring break, standing in front of some rundown apartment… why?”

“Hey! We’re about to ask the owner of this place for a favor, so don’t call it rundown!”

Sure, the place looks a bit aged, but it’s pretty standard for someone living alone.

“A favor…? I just tagged along not really knowing what we’re here for. If they’re not home, maybe we should just come back another day?”

“Yeah, maybe… but I did get in touch with them, you know…”

I had managed to squeeze in a call during my killer schedule of TV appearances and interviews. They replied with a laid-back “Got it, sure,” about the visit, too.

“Well then, Master, if our plans fell through, how about we go hang out somewhere together?”

Momoka said this while wrapping her arm around mine.

“What, you want to go play at the park or something?”

“Master, how old do you think I am? I’m not in elementary school anymore!”

She puffed out her cheeks and looked up at me, clearly not thrilled about being treated like a child.

“We used to do jump rope and dodgeball during breaks in the study group, remember?”

“Well, I was definitely a kid when I first became your disciple… but now I’m practically a grown-up. Look! Even my outfit today is really mature, don’t you think?”

She let go of my arm and did a quick spin in front of me to show off.

She wore a collared blue dress with a thick brown leather belt around her waist as an accent, and her shoes were slightly heeled pumps that matched the belt.

Yeah, definitely not an outfit you’d wear to run around in a park.

“You used to dress like such a tomboy when you first came to greet me as my disciple.”

“Stop bringing up when I was in elementary school! Geez!”

“But today you’re really dressed to impress.”

With her height and posture, Momoka already looked mature for her age, and in today’s outfit, she looked more like a high schooler—maybe even a university student.

“Well, you did say we were going on a date, Master, so of course I went all out.”

“Don’t go twisting my words. I just said we were going out together.”

“When two people of appropriate age go out together, it counts as a date.”

“Nope, if your age is considered ‘appropriate,’ then I’m getting arrested.”

This disciple keeps setting up traps to get me socially cancelled. I can’t afford to let my guard down around her lately.

“Anyway, forget the little details. Let’s just go somewhere together, Master~”

She tugged on my hand playfully with a sweet voice. Yeah, come to think of it, I have been too busy to spend time with her lately.

Even though I wanted to get back to the research I’d been putting off because of TV and interview work…

“Fine. Just for today.”

“Yay! Then let’s—”

“Can you not?! What the hell’s with the flirting in front of someone’s house? Go do that somewhere else!”

The door suddenly swung open, revealing a woman in a T-shirt, sweatpants, and glasses. Clearly just woke up, she looked out at the shared apartment hallway with a grumpy expression.

“She said ‘flirting,’ Master. See? That’s how people see us!”

Ignoring how weirdly pleased Momoka looked after being scolded, I turned to address the bleary-eyed woman.

“Did you just wake up? It’s already ten.”

Right, she was never a morning person.

“Ahhhn…?”

She scowled, squinting at me as if her brain hadn’t quite caught up yet.

Eventually, her eyes adjusted to the light and finally focused on my face.

“Oh hey! Mako! Long time no see!”

“Ow, ow—come on, that hurts.”

She suddenly perked up and started smacking my back enthusiastically. I winced and complained.

“Um… Master, who is this person? She just called you ‘Mako’… you two seem really close.”

Before I could reply, the woman answered with a yawn.

“Me? I’m family. Mako’s family. Yaaaawn~”

“Fa—!?”

Momoka froze like she’d turned to stone.

“Well, I mean, she’s sort of like family… What’s wrong, Momoka?”

“No sisters… she’s clearly not old enough to be his mother… which means…”

Muttering to herself, Momoka didn’t seem to hear me.

She was clearly running through theories with her highly analytical mind.

Like how shogi players sometimes mutter to themselves during complex positions, Momoka was now in full deductive mode.

And, thanks to her fast thinking, she reached a conclusion.

“M-Master… y-you’re separately married, aren’t you…!?”

Her body trembling, she asked in a shaky voice.

“Huh!?”

Okay, what the hell, middle school genius?

That conclusion is completely off-track! That brilliant brain of yours is totally useless outside of shogi, isn’t it?

“But… if she’s a woman of appropriate age and she says she’s ‘family,’ it must mean that…! How could you deceive me like this…!”

Now she looked like a woman who just found out she’d been scammed by a fake fiancé.

“Listen, calm down, Momoka. It’s not like that.”

“You brought me to your wife’s house. That’s the proof, isn’t it!?”

Her voice rose to a near-shout, transforming a perfectly average apartment hallway into a full-blown soap opera set.

“Seriously, Momoka. She’s—”

“Ugghh… sniff… I won’t give up… No matter what happens, I’ll become your wife… sob…”

And now she was crying.

This disciple is hopeless.

She’s completely lost in her own narrative and isn’t listening to a word I say.

Also… even if I were married, she still wouldn’t give up!?

“Keiko, can you please explain? You saying weird stuff is what made my disciple totally misunderstand!”

“I just meant ‘family’ as in our shogi school. Like a mentor-mentee family. And seriously—first the flirting, now the lovers’ quarrel? Quit it in front of my place, you’re bothering the neighbors. Get in here already.”

My senior disciple, Ayase Keiko, scratched her head in frustration and gestured for us to come inside.