"Click." "Click." "Click."
The sound of pieces snapping into place echoed like war drums in the silent room.
On the 7-tatami shogi board, the battle between Yukima Azuma and Yamato Kajin was unfolding with razor-sharp intensity.
Yamato's earlier words had not been empty bravado. He and the Meijin had genuinely studied Yukima Azuma's furi-bisha (Ranging Rook) style in detail. Not just his typical patterns—but his habits, his favorite formations, even his tempo. Every fragment had been analyzed.
Yukima Azuma's opening had been a Double Ranging Rook strategy—a rare move even among furi-bisha specialists. It was a bold decision, especially in a promotion match.
Today, he came with a storm-like offensive, pushing tempo over balance. His strategy was aggressive—aiming to break through with a rapid attack before Yamato could settle into a solid formation.
But…
"What a pity," Yamato Kajin said as he slid his Gin (Silver General) to 4h. "This line—we studied it. And we found something."
With that Silver placement, he neutralized the threat on the right flank and simultaneously applied pressure to Yukima's central Hisha (Rook).
"This exact joseki—Double Ranging Rook versus Static Silver—we analyzed this line with Meijin. And do you know what conclusion we reached?"
He gently tapped the piece. "Static Rook wins."
His move created a pin that limited Yukima's Rook mobility, essentially forcing him to either defend passively or sacrifice his offensive momentum.
Yamato lifted his gaze, trying to gauge Yukima's reaction.
But Yukima Azuma simply stared back with deadpan annoyance.
"You talk too much," he said flatly. "Better focus on the board. Your blabbering's going to cost you."
Yamato blinked, then chuckled softly. Even on the verge of collapse, Yukima Azuma's tongue remained as sharp as ever.
In the adjacent viewing room…
On the central monitor, the game was being broadcast live.
For accessibility, the match came with professional commentary and real-time win-rate projections, courtesy of a powerful AI engine trained on decades of pro matches.
Currently, Yukima Azuma's win probability sat at a dismal 27%, and it was falling fast.
Sora Ginko sat stiffly in a corner chair, her fingers clenched white with tension.
If he loses… will he break again? Will he disappear like last time?
Worry contorted her normally calm features.
Around her, murmurs swirled from professionals and analysts.
"Well, he's up against an 8-dan. This is expected."
"Yeah, especially with Meijin's prep behind Kajin. It's almost unfair."
"That's the thing. Only a monster can beat a monster—and Meijin's a monster with a scalpel."
Sora Ginko wanted to scream back at them.
But she couldn't. Her skill, while elite in the female circuit, hadn't yet reached the insight needed to fully grasp the game's current state.
She could only watch, helpless.
Until—
"No way!"
A clear, childish voice rang through the room.
The analysts fell silent, turning toward the door.
There stood a little girl, around nine years old, wearing a white dress and a soft beret.
Her pale brown hair framed eyes that shimmered strangely—icy blue streaked with glints of violet.
"There's still a way to turn it around!" she shouted confidently.
"Who is that?"
"…That's the innkeeper's daughter, right?"
"Could she be a shogi student?"
"Maybe. But she's a complete unknown."
The room was skeptical—but something about the conviction in her voice made even the pros glance at the board again.
The AI win rate had dropped to 7%.
For most players, that would signal resignation prep.
But not for her.
Sora Ginko, suddenly intrigued, looked at the girl, then back to the board.
Her eyes narrowed as she followed Yukima's last move—he'd sacrificed positional advantage to push his Rook forward.
She stared.
Then froze.
Her breath caught.
On the board…
Yamato Kajin had just placed his Keima (Knight) to 5e, aiming at a fork that threatened both Yukima's Bishop and the critical central files. It looked like checkmate was only a few turns away.
But then—
Yukima Azuma calmly placed his Hisha (Rook) on 3e.
Directly in the Knight's path.
Sacrificial?
Yamato blinked.
"What's this?" he said aloud. "Giving up?"
"Just resign if you're going to self-destruct. At least then the game won't look pathetic."
But Yukima's face didn't change.
"If you have time to run your mouth," he said coldly, "maybe use it to actually think."
Yamato scoffed and captured the Rook.
Then looked up—
Then looked back down—
And stopped breathing for a second.
The moment he moved the Knight…
The sequence began.
Yukima's Silver dropped on 4d, threatening a Tsunero (threatmate) from two angles.
With his Gold out of position, his King's castle had become brittle.
Two moves later, a Bishop drop.
Then, a promoted Pawn that had been hiding on the sixth file sprang into action.
Yamato's smile faded.
He had walked right into a double-layered Tsume (forced mate).
And worse—
He had helped build the structure himself.
He stood up in shock, eyes locked on the board.
Complete silence.
A girl's voice echoed in his ears:
"There's still a way to turn it around."
And somehow—he now believed it.