Shiratori The Ryuo's Work Is Never Done! Volume 3

1. Auflage 2026
ISBN: 978-1-7183-6360-1
Verlag: J-Novel Club
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, Band 3, 250 Seiten

Reihe: The Ryuo's Work Is Never Done!

Standing at the top of the Shogi world doesn't numb the sting of defeat. After losing another three games in a row, Yaichi Kuzuryu fears that he's falling behind in his personal and professional life. Feeling like his habits are being used against him, he seeks out a player of the 'enemy' style to be his mentor and challenge his fundamentals.

Meanwhile, Keika Kiyotaki finds herself with questions of her own. While the Ryuo may admire her, the sudden rise of his rookie apprentice in Ai Hinatsuru forces Keika to doubt whether she can ever truly realize her dream of being a professional Shogi player. The gap in results between years of hard work and the natural talent of a genius scares even Ai, who begins to fear that even the best players can lose their way in search of the next victory.

As new paths threaten to lead them astray, each player must decide what price they'd pay to improve and if the change they seek is really for the better.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Shiratori, Shirow

Weitere Mitwirkende

Shirabii

Gaippe, Andrew

Leseproben

I raced out of the Shogi association and passed Hatomori Shrine right next door at a breakneck speed, only stopping at the large Shibuya scramble intersection to wait for the light to change. The instant it did, I turned all of that built-up pain into energy, yelling from the bottom of my lungs and running forward as fast as my legs could carry me.

I thought about catching a train at Sendagaya Station, but the pain was so severe that I ran right by it and even the next one, Yoyogi Station, before I knew it and ended up running along the Odakyu-Odawara Line from Minami-Shinjuku all the way down.

“UWAAAAAHHHHH!”

I cried!

Tears and snot flying off my face! I cried and cried!

I ran!

School backpack still strapped to my shoulders, my leather shoes pounded the asphalt as I ran like I’d never run before!

“UWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

It hurt so much!

It was so pitiful!

It was so embarrassing!

It wasn’t the loss that hurt. Going in so cocky was embarrassing. My weakness was pitiful. It was the only pro debut match I’ll ever have in my life and I didn’t play my best. That’s what hurt.

“UWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

It was dark before I came back to myself.

What’s more, a pitch-black ocean spread out in front my eyes.

I was dead set on jumping in and swimming all the way back to Osaka Port, but a guy who worked at a nearby surfing shop mistook me for being suicidal and stopped me.

I ended up running nonstop for eight hours after that match, going all the way from Sendagaya, Tokyo to Chigasaki in Kanagawa Prefecture. That’s 61.4 kilometers (I checked on Google Earth once I got home). My uniform was soaked with sweat and my leather shoes were in bad shape.

Chigasaki has warm water, so surfers hit the waves in winter quite a bit too. After I got there, I worked for the guy who saved me at the surfing shop, living there for a week. That’s when Big Sis came looking for me, but my spirit was still in pieces. I bartered.

“I’m done with Shogi! I’ll work here and become a surfer!”

“Your head—on a pike.”

That was the end of it. I got dragged back to Osaka.

That’s how the curtain fell on the story of my pitifully painful pro debut loss, as well as my first time running away from home—

Afterward, all that pain and suffering became a springboard that launched me to victory in the Ryuo Title Match. And thus the youngest title holder in history—Yaichi Kuzuryu—came to be.

Now.

The reason I’m bringing up the past is—

“Hm, hm, hee hee? What fun. Playing against you, Yaichi, is just so much fun...?”

Because right now I’m sitting across the board from that very opponent.

Jin Natagiri 8-. Ranked fourth in A League.

He was in B-1 when I made my pro debut, but he rose all the way to A, 8- by throttling everyone he went up against in last year’s placement matches and now stands among the best of the best.

Being one of the Shogi world’s few truly devoted researchers, he fully comprehends a wide range of the latest strategies and sequences. He can play Static Rook, Ranging Rook, take the first move for the second, defend and attack... A true .

He’s got a nickname too—.

“Sigh~ I’ve got butterflies! Will my narrow advance make it all the way through your defenses? Oh, the butterflies! Heheee...!”

Is this some kind of off-the-board strategy?

Mr. Natagiri’s bizarre ramblings are really throwing me off my game—it doesn’t help that he’s completely controlling the pace of our match. I hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Not only is he particularly good during the early game, he went first and drew me in with one of the latest strategies, resulting in a commanding lead early on.

We’re already in the late game, and he hasn’t let me go on attack even once. Seriously, he’s still advancing on to my side of the board while cutting off all my counterattacks before they happen. The Ryuo is down for the count.

“...Ughhh...”

I hold my head in my hands, groaning at my pitiful performance. All these bad memories are coming back.

The thing is, I didn’t just lose to him on my pro debut. I also lost to him in my first match after claiming the Ryuo title, the first of eleven straight losses. I still remember the article in the newspaper: .

More painful memories come flooding in, squeezing my spirit almost to the breaking point... But!

“...Nn!”

I’m going to hold out as long as I can and save every possible second of waiting time!

At this point, my only chance is to hope that my opponent messes up. It’s time to put the stubborn, muddy playing style Kansai players are known for to good use. If I can maintain even just a one-minute edge of waiting time once the final battle begins, I’ll have a chance to turn the tide...!

Whether Mr. Natagiri knew what I was trying to do or not, he started leaning forward to get a better look at the board whenever his turn came around and would then speed up.

Now both of us are hovering over the board, leaning in.

I glace up for a moment and see Mr. Natagiri looking right at me.

Then, he whispers, “You know something? Matches... are a lot like romance...”

...What the heck is this guy talking about right in the middle of a league match?

“Don’t you see? We spend the whole day so close to each other. Why... it’s almost like a date.”

“You... have a point.”

Mr. Natagiri is way up in the Shogi world hierarchy, so a bottom feeder like me has no choice but to acknowledge him.

He continues, “I’ve been thinking about you... all night long...”

Say what...?

“Actually, no. Since long before then. Since the moment that this match was determined, every single day... Every hour, every minute, I’ve been thinking about you... Learning all about you...”

Learn... ing...?

“What strategy might you use today? What sequence would you prepare just for me? What clothes will you wear? Whose fan will you use? Will we get to eat lunch together? While I think about you, are you thinking about me the same way...?”

“???”

Is he trying to provoke me by saying this weird stuff?

It’s the late game, so is this his way of making me lose focus? To make me mess up?

“Then there’s the match itself. The way you take off your glasses when you’re deep in thought, and I get to look deep into your real eyes. Don’t you just get butterflies? Or do you not get them the way I do...? Oh, I was just so nervous.”

Crap, crap, crap, crapcrapCRAP!!!

Huh?! Hold up, hold up?!

His nickname: Switch Hitter... Is that what it means?!

I’m one bad jolt away from a panic attack, and he starts whispering to me through hot breaths.

“Yaichi...”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you have... someone special?”

Switch Hitter asks something completely unrelated to Shogi but keeps up the feverish pace on the board. It’s like he’s gasping for breath over there. I look away out of reflex.

“Ah! That means you do have someone?! Could it be a girl? Or, just maybe—”

“! ...!”

I look over at the recorder in a desperate plea for help, but the Sub League member (?) sitting there keeps his eyes firmly glued to the match record. Have a heart!

“...!”

I look back down at the board and put my hand on my cheek, acting like I’m thinking about something very hard when really I’m just making sure our eyes don’t meet.

I’m in no shape to think about Shogi right now, but I’m a pro player. Not only that, I hold one of only seven Ryuo titles. So, I put every ounce of concentration I have left to get the most out of every second and to focus on finding a way to come out victorious in the end. It’s time for muddy stubbornness to turn the tide! Just when I’d finally flipped the switch... I gotta take a leak...!

An urge to race to the nearest restroom hit me like a tidal wave. I’ve still got a little bit of waiting time left, so I start to get to my feet to take care of business when—

“Oh? Potty break? Want some company?”

Why are you trying to come with me?!

“...!”

My waist hovering over my ankles, I put both hands down on the mat and endure the growing in a Crouching Style Shogi stance.

Mr. Natagiri mumbles, “Ah, so you’re not going,” and looks back down at the board. “Why don’t you go?!”

There’s a restroom right outside each of the arenas in the Black Corridor, the fifth floor of the Kansai Shogi Association.

However, such a short distance has never felt so far away...!

At this point, the only way I’m going to get to go to the john is to finish this match. It’s too dangerous to go in there with the Switch Hitter. I cannot let that happen. Which means, I have no choice but to end this.

“...I will...