If I Become a Meijin, Will you Marry me, Master? - Chapter 14

(Snap)

A crisp, satisfying sound echoed through the room as a piece was placed on the board.

Incidentally, this pleasant sound comes not just from the piece itself, but also thanks to a design feature: the square-pyramidal hollow in the center of the underside of the traditional shogi board, which enhances the resonance.

“But wow, Mako’s a shisho now, huh~? All while I was off gallivanting around the world.”

“If Master Nakatsugawa were still alive, the role never would’ve fallen to me.”

Even as we conversed, I made my next move and quickly hit the stop button on the chess clock.

At that moment, time started ticking down for Keiko—my senior disciple—who was seated in seiza on the opposite side of the board.

We were playing a match with thirty minutes each on the clock, no byōyomi—run out of time, and you lose.

This relaxed style of play, with half-casual conversation, reminded me of the old days when we used to play like this as kids.

“Still, that Momoka really loves you, huh?”

“Now that she’s a professional, I hope she’ll start becoming a little less attached to her teacher.”

Since running out of time meant losing, we were both keeping up a brisk pace, playing our moves in about thirty seconds each.

The snap of placing a piece and the click of the clock echoed through the living room.

“But Momoka really is incredibly talented. I saw her on TV—she’s terrifying.”

“She only just got promoted to 4-dan, so you haven’t seen any of her recent games yet, right?”

So why did Keiko think she was terrifying?

“It’s her aura, maybe. I’ve played in women’s title matches before, and there’s something distinct about the aura strong players give off.”

“Huh…”

It was a vague comment, and I couldn’t quite grasp what she meant.

Keiko had once held two women’s titles simultaneously—one of the top players in her time.

I’d never been in a title match myself. Maybe that difference in experience explained the gap in our understanding.

“Hey, Mako… are you really sure I’m the right person?”

The pieces had advanced beyond the opening, and now formations were starting to clash.

It was a fast-paced game, with the opening phase already behind us and skirmishes beginning.

At this critical point, I deliberately took a long think.

Silence settled over the room.

“That’s exactly why. For Momoka right now, there’s no one more suitable than you, Keiko.”

Using five of my thirty minutes, I finally made a move and responded to her question with a time-delayed answer.

“You might be repeating what happened with me, you know?”

Keiko eagerly launched an attack in response to my defensive move.

This sort of offensive-defensive dynamic—nothing’s changed since we were kids.

“Even if it ends up that way, it’s still better that you’re by her side. Either way, this is the best move I can make.”

I pushed my king forward into the battlefield.

Keiko raised an eyebrow at the unexpected move.

“Logic doesn’t always work with people. She’s not some emotionless AI, no matter how strong she is at shogi.”

She launched a relentless king-chasing attack, trying to capture my exposed king.

If I misplayed here, I’d be checkmated before even reaching the endgame.

For a while, the board saw my king dancing and dodging her repeated checks—a delicate, floating defense.

“I still don’t understand…”

I stopped playing and rested a fist on my knee, speaking quietly.

“What? Giving up already? If you’re losing to a rusty, out-of-practice ex-pro like me, maybe you really aren’t cut out to be her teacher.”

Keiko grinned smugly.

It was the same expression she used to get scolded for by our master—‘Don’t show your emotions when you’re ahead.’

“No, this game’s already mine. You’re so caught up in attacking, you’ve stopped seeing the whole board.”

With that, I quietly played a counterattack.

“Oh… you dropped a pawn… Wait, I was attacking, so how did it turn around like this?”

“Then I’ll finish the mate.”

I began to move without hesitation.

Keiko scrambled to plug the holes in her burning defenses, but then my king, who had been drifting in enemy territory, joined the offensive—completely surrounding her king.

“I lose…”

Before time could run out, Keiko resigned with grace.

“I just can’t understand… why Momoka likes me.”

“Ah, so we’re skipping the post-game analysis and continuing the conversation?”

Keiko chuckled while placing the pieces back in their pouch.

We had a childhood rule: the loser cleans up.

“At first, I thought she was confusing admiration for a nearby pro with romantic feelings.”

“Yeah, kids often mix those up.”

“I figured eventually she’d realize that and file it away as either a fond memory or an embarrassing phase, and we’d settle into a proper teacher-student distance.”

“But it was the opposite, wasn’t it? Momoka realized it wasn’t admiration or respect—it was love.”

“That’s…”

“No one else can answer what’s in someone’s heart. Not even her teacher.”

“…………”

After finishing with the pieces, Keiko pulled the pouch’s drawstring tight.

“Your relationship with Momoka is yours alone. You can’t compare it to anyone else’s. You need to face it head-on. …Though, I guess that’s also my personal hope.”

She gave a wry smile while placing the pouch into the piece box.

“Kei-chan… do you have regrets?”

I deliberately used her childhood nickname—wanting to hear from Ayase Keiko the person, not the shogi player.

“Anyone who’s lived as long as we have has at least a few regrets.”

“I agree.”

As we grow older, we make some big choices.

With each one, other possible futures vanish.

I don’t regret choosing the life of a shogi player, but… there are times I wonder what might’ve been.

“Oh? Mako, you too? Did you break up with someone you were planning to marry while I was off wandering the world?”

Keiko gave me a curious look, like she’d caught a juicy bit of gossip.

“Why are you so eager all of a sudden? That never happened.”

“I promise I won’t tell Momoka.”

“No, and besides, it’s not about romantic regrets… and why would Momoka care?”

“Well, judging by how she acted when she met me, she seems like the jealous type. If you’re too smooth on your first night, she might sulk. So act like a total virgin—she’d probably like that.”

I had no idea where to even begin correcting her. My head was spinning.

“Please stop with the out-of-nowhere dirty jokes. She’s at an impressionable age—try to be more careful.”

I gave my crude senior a side-eye filled with mild contempt.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s easy to forget she’s just in middle school since she acts so mature.”

“Really? She’s just a spoiled brat in front of me.”

Just the other day, she threw a fit and cried because I wasn’t going to accompany her to a match.

“That just shows how much she trusts you. It’s important to have someone you can be vulnerable around—especially for someone so young and already climbing so high.”

“Is that how it works…”

“Well, when it comes to girlish hearts, leave it to your older sister figure—me!”

Keiko puffed out her chest with confidence.

Truly reassuring.

Even if she was basically unemployed until recently.

(Riiing!)

“Oh, a call. I wonder who it is?”

If it was another TV appearance or something, I figured I could just pass it to my manager—Keiko—and pressed the call button.

“Yes, this is Inada. Ah! Thank you so much for always taking care of Momoka! Yes, yes…”

Maybe it was the change in my tone, but Keiko sensed something was off and turned her attention to me.

“What!? Yes… I’ll be right there. Thank you. Excuse me.”

“What? Did something happen with Momoka? Isn’t today the day she’s helping out the girls’ basketball club?”

As I hung up, Keiko immediately asked with concern.

“Keiko… Apparently, Momoka got into a fight at school.”

“Whaaat!?”

Keiko froze in shock.

Honestly, I had trouble believing it too, even though I’d just heard it myself.

“W-what do we do, Keiko!? As her guardian, what am I supposed to do in a situation like this—?”

Flustered, I looked to Keiko for help.

“I-I don’t know! You’re her teacher, aren’t you!?”

She recoiled in panic, trying to escape responsibility.

“But you just said to leave Momoka to you a minute ago!”

“You can’t expect a single woman with no parenting experience to suddenly deal with a rebellious teenager!”

People often say shogi professionals seem more mature than their age, but that’s only within the confines of the game.

Confronted with a completely unfamiliar challenge, all Keiko and I could do was panic helplessly.