If I Become a Meijin, Will you Marry me, Master? - Chapter 7

“I’m going to grab another freshly made omelet, Master.”

“Momoka… aren’t you eating a bit too much?”

It was the morning of the final day of this term’s Sandan League.

Momoka and I were at the breakfast buffet of the hotel we had stayed at.

Because we had to leave early, we entered the breakfast hall the moment it opened, so there weren’t many other guests.

“It’s the opposite. If I don’t get proper nutrition in the morning, I won’t last until the lunch break.”

Saying that, Momoka lined up for the made-to-order omelets prepared by the chef on the spot. I watched her go, half in disbelief, and took a sip of my blended coffee.

I opened the Japan Shogi Association website on my smartphone to check the current number of wins in the Sandan League once again.

On the final day of the Sandan League, there are two matches — one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

Momoka currently has a perfect record of 16 wins and 0 losses.

The current second place holds a record of 13 wins and 3 losses, so even if Momoka loses both of today’s games, she will still pass the league at the top.

Third place and below are tied in a fierce battle, with three players at 12 wins and 4 losses, meaning depending on today’s results, there’s still a chance for them.

Ah… one of those with 12 wins is Tanahashi-kun, who was in the same train car as us yesterday on the Shinkansen.

Let’s see, his age… wow, 25 years old…

That’s a tight spot, given the mandatory retirement age of 26 from the Shoreikai.

If you’re stuck in the Sandan League too long, you end up cloaked in darkness like that…

There were people like that even during my time, and I almost ended up in the same place.

“Master, I got some crispy bacon along with the omelet.”

My student, the middle school prodigy who will pass the Sandan League in a single term, returned with an innocent smile — a stark contrast to the likes of Tanahashi-kun.

He’s probably so nervous right now he can’t even touch breakfast…

“Maybe I should try making crispy bacon at home sometime.”

“Really!? I’m looking forward to it!”

That said, this has nothing to do with Momoka.

In the professional world, results are everything.

I put away my smartphone and shifted the conversation away from the Sandan League.

“Omelets made by pros really are silky smooth, huh?”

“I like the omelets you make for breakfast better, Master. You cook them exactly the way I like.”

“Thanks. Even if you’re just flattering me, I appreciate it.”

“I’m not flattering you!”

She pouted, lips forming a straight line, as she polished off her omelet and crispy bacon.

Heading into the final day of the Sandan League, she showed no sign of nerves.

“Did you pack your lunch? Got enough drinks prepared?”

“We just went to the convenience store together, didn’t we, Master?”

Like a mother sending her daughter off to an entrance exam, I was a bundle of nerves. Momoka, on the other hand, remained composed.

“Alright. This is as far as I go.”

“Yes. I’m off, Master.”

In front of the Tokyo Shogi Kaikan, I let Momoka go through the front entrance first.

Perhaps switching into game mode, she didn’t cling to me or look back, walking straight toward the match room.

Normally, a master doesn’t accompany their student to Sandan League matches.

Unlike professional matches, the game records aren’t broadcast in real time. All you find out is whether they won or lost. So even if you stay at the venue, you’re just sitting around anxiously waiting for results.

You might as well worry at home.

That’s why no other masters of Sandan League players come to the Shogi Kaikan.

So why was I called here by the Association? Because I was asked to attend the press conference after the matches.

“Excuse me.”

“Come in.”

After parting ways with Momoka, I knocked on the door of the chairman’s office — the very man who summoned me.

“Good morning, Chairman Kitano.”

“Hey, Inada-kun. Haven’t seen you since the other day. Thanks for coming all the way to Tokyo. Want a snack?”

Chairman Kitano, seated heavily on the reception sofa, offered me some tea snacks.

“No, thank you. I might’ve overdone it a bit at the hotel buffet.”

“Overeating at a buffet, huh? You’re still young, Inada-kun.”

“Momoka’s pace got to me.”

“Didn’t know Momoka-chan ate that much.”

I’d like to stay young, but now that I’m in my late twenties, my appetite’s definitely shrinking year by year.

…Wow, that thought was really middle-aged. I hate it.

“Anyway, once today’s final Sandan League matches are over, there’s a press interview for the new 4-dans. Since the major Tokyo TV stations will be there, it’s going to be way bigger than the Kansai Shogi Kaikan press stuff the other day.”

“They’re all there for Momoka, right?”

Thinking about the task ahead made me grimace, and I couldn’t help but speak with a hint of sarcasm toward the enthusiastic chairman.

“Of course. No offense to the other new 4-dan, but that’s just how it is when a middle school student turns pro. It’s inevitable.”

Spoken bluntly and unapologetically by the shining bald head of the former fourth-ever middle school pro himself.

Why is it that geniuses never seem to even try to understand other people’s feelings?

“So, as her master, what am I supposed to say in front of the press?”

“Beats me. Normally, the master doesn’t even show up when their student promotes.”

“You’re the one who summoned me!”

“Honestly, some of the media folks today don’t care about shogi and may be quite rude. I want you to help me protect Momoka-chan. That’s the reason I asked you to come, Inada-kun.”

“So basically, I’m the shield against a mob of bloodthirsty journalists.”

I had already suspected as much, so I simply drank the tea on the reception table with a bitter look.

“Ah, speaking of which, we’ve got the results from Momoka-chan’s morning match. She won. Isn’t this the first time someone’s gone 17-0 in the Sandan League?”

“Yes. Well, it’s only natural for Momoka.”

“Wow, aren’t you a doting parent? You’re so calm for someone so young.”

“…I was even mistaken for her father on the train ride over. Do I really look that old?”

“Well, shogi players grow up surrounded by elderly folks at shogi parlors, so they tend to come off as mature.”

“…”

Did… did the chairman just try to say something considerate?

Does that mean I really look old?

I think my hair’s still fine… but is it secretly in danger?

I’ll have Momoka check my scalp when we get home.

“Still, the headlines tomorrow are going to be crazy. If she wins the afternoon match too, she’ll become the first to go undefeated through the Sandan League.”

“And as a one-term promotion, no less.”

“People in the Sandan League pour their hearts and souls into every single match. Normally, someone loses at least one or two due to pressure or intensity from their opponents. And she’s a second-year middle school girl, no less. What kind of nerves does she have?”

Chairman Kitano stared into space, seemingly in disbelief — likely remembering his own Sandan League days.

“She thrives in pressure situations. The more important the match is to her opponent, the more fired up she gets.”

“Sounds like someone perfect for title matches.”

“Yes. Terrifyingly so.”

During the previous session, when she secured her promotion to 4-dan, she blitzed her opponent with fast attacks. Later, when I asked her about it, she casually told me she chose that strategy because she knew her opponent would take the bait.

Not only is her base shogi skill high, but she can also read human psychology — especially that of male opponents — and use it to strike ruthlessly…

That opponent likely suffered a bitter loss they’ll never forget.

“To achieve my ultimate goal, I’ll use whatever I can.
If my opponent underestimates me just because I’m a girl, then I’ll exploit that without mercy.
This is a life-or-death battle — there’s no male or female in that.”

That sinister smile as she spoke — her “ultimate goal” is, of course, to become Meijin.

To Momoka, today’s Sandan League final is just one milestone on that path.

And because it’s a milestone, she won’t slow down — she’ll trample everything in her way with full force.

To the other players in the Sandan League, she’s essentially a natural disaster.

Or maybe, years from now, they’ll brag that they once played against Momoka the Meijin in the Sandan League.

I chuckled at my own mundane thoughts and left the chairman’s office to get lunch outside.

Partly to avoid running into Momoka, who was likely still brimming with fighting spirit inside the building.