“Mister. What’s that?”
It must have been about six months after I’d moved into the old folks home when that little girl first came up to me.
She was in elementary school, I’d imagined, and the daughter of one of the women on staff. She’d come here after school was let out and later go home with her mother once her shift was over.
“This? ………… Shogi.”
I didn’t bother looking up from my ragged old foldable Shogi board and kept moving the pieces in hopes she’d get the hint to scram.
But my tone didn’t phase her and she kept asking questions.
“Oh? Do you play it by yourself?”
“No. I’m lining up a match record ……”
“?”
“Normally …… it takes two to play.”
“Okay! How about we play?”
She pulled up the chair on the other side of the board and sat down.
Which was a surprise.
Kids interested in Shogi were out there, sure. But for a kid her age not to be scared of a grumpy old man like me?
Chills ran down my spine for a moment ……
“…… No. I’ve sworn off playing against anyone ever again. Find someone else.”
There were plenty of board games and even a TV in the recreation room. I thought she’d find something to entertain herself over there, but ……
She didn’t budge.
“Then I’ll watch. That’d be okay, right?”
“……”
I sighed and went on like usual, thinking she’d disappear eventually ……
But she came and watched me line up records every day after that.
“Mister. Is it fun clicking those pieces by yourself?”
“Yes, it is.”
“More than playing a game?”
“Yes, much more.”
Ignoring her outright would’ve been childish of me, so I answered whenever she asked me a question. The girl was quite the chatterbox.
While this area is rather diverse by Japanese standards, she said being a quarter Russian made her stand out a bit too much at school.
That’s why she was always here.
She probably missed plenty of school. There were times she’d show up at the old folks home in the morning and stay all day once she started watching me play through match records.
I was concerned about what her mother thought …… But her job was far from easy. So long as her daughter wasn’t stirring up trouble, she seemed all right with the arrangement. I honestly can’t remember her saying much of anything to my face.
Save for one.
“Does she have a talent for Shogi?”
I merely shrugged. How could I know that when I hadn’t seen her play?
Right. Playing against her was the only way to find out ……
A week passed, and the girl kept coming to my table every single day. What’s more, she sat and watched me play through match records the whole time. Two weeks, three weeks, a full month passed and she never took her eyes off my board.
I was the one who caved first.
“Would you like to play?”
“…… A-ha-ha!”
She lined up the starting formation from memory.
Based on how she held the pieces and the order, it was clear as day she had zero knowledge of Shogi. That made it truly impressive that she’d sat and watched me for so long.
I decided to play an even match with her, probably a habit left over from my days doing instructional matches as a pro.
I let her go first, and the happiest little smile crossed her face as she moved her first piece with the glee of a puppy stepping out onto an open field for the first time.
“…… Put the piece right in the middle of the square.”
That was the only advice I gave her.
Here I was, thinking I had to hunt for signs of talent …… But as we went along, I got suspicious and stopped the match.
“Are you really an amateur? Because you sure don’t look it to me.”
“Huuuh?”
“Only a handful of pros would make that move you just did. It wouldn’t happen by chance, either. How could a little girl just―――”
I made it that far before I realized what I was saying.
Yes, even if they knew how to play Shogi beforehand, no elementary school kid would’ve played that move. And yet, this one just did.
She gave me a funny look and explained.
“I’ve watched you play by yourself a lot, mister. And this formation looked right.”
“Formation ……?”
“This one moves different, right?”
She picked up a piece and stared at it like it just fell out of the sky. I’m sure that’s what she said, that the pieces moved differently.
I was beyond shocked.
How was she playing so well without understanding how each piece moved?!
Was that even possible? But there she was, playing all the best moves without so much as a second thought. We were 100 moves or so in, but neither side had a clear advantage ……
“…… All right. Let’s keep going.”
“A-ha-ha! Thanks, mister!”
A cold chill, like I’d just witnessed something truly scary, crept over me as we started back up again.
Once we got to the late-game, an old man like me needed time to see what moves were on the board. But the girl, she moved like clockwork.
“Hey …… Are you thinking like you should?”
“Hm?”
She craned her neck all the way to the side like she had no clue what I was talking about. Then she smirked.
“I can tell what to do next just by looking.”
“…………”
Kids play fast. Picking up moves in a glance is a sign of talent, too.
But this girl wasn’t anything like them.
There was something different about her at the core that separated this girl from every Shogi player I’d ever met.
No.
This kid was different from every person I’d ever met ……
“That’s checkmate,” I told her after holding off the last spurt.
“Checkmate?”
“It means you lose.”
“…… Awww. Over already?”
She slumped over, sad.
This was a budding monster. She’d grow if I watered her. Grow into a talented beast who would turn the Shogi world on its head …… But that didn’t interest me anymore.
Although I thoroughly enjoyed my first match against another person in a long time.
“This isn’t the end.”
I earnestly wanted to play more Shogi with her.
So I put the pieces back into starting formation and told her, “You can always start again in Shogi, no matter how many times you lose.”
“A-ha!”
It didn’t take her long at all to overtake me.
Two months after I met this lightning-quick girl, I couldn’t even give her a proper challenge. Sure, age had taken its toll on my brain, but I used to play Shogi for a living.
“You have completely surpassed me.”
“Yeah-huh. Let’s play another match.”
“Not that I had anything to teach you from the very beginning ……”
I was used to our conversations not lining up by that point. It had begun to dawn on me who she was.
Interacting with words didn’t have much of a point.
So I gave her a different method of communicating.
“This is for you. Take it.”
“Huuuh? …… What’s this?”
“Certification.”
“Certi…fi… cation?”
“Truth be told, my authority to issue these expired a long time ago ……”
I gave her the sheet that I had written while harkening back to my life in the past.
“1-kyu Miss Ika Sainokami”
Her reaction far exceeded my expectations.
She froze like a statue, staring wide-eyed at the paper until tears came pouring down her cheeks.
“Wh-What’s wrong ……?!”
“I’ve never, ever gotten an award before ……”
She got a so out before words failed her.
It was just one piece of paper and yet.