The Real Match Was Just Beginning

Yamada looked displeased. He turned and exchanged a glance with his companion behind him.

Saito, his companion, stepped forward.

"You know, underclassman, the school won't issue our next batch of points until the first of next month. If you lose them all, you'll be stuck eating the vegetable set for the rest of this month." The school provided it for free, but it contained nothing but vegetables—not a scrap of meat.

"You don't need to worry about that, senpai. Or are you saying you're afraid to bet?"

As a special student who had been invited to attend the school, Sakamoto had no reason to worry about his living conditions, even if he lost all his points. If he wanted, he could live more comfortably than anyone else at school except Sakayanagi, though he had no intention of doing so.

"Give me a break! I'm not afraid of some first-year. Let's do it!"

Yamada's temper flared, and he finally couldn't hold back from challenging Sakamoto to a bet.

"Since that's settled, we should get a teacher to witness an agreement, so you can't deny the results if you lose." Sakamoto was deliberately doing everything he could to provoke Yamada.

After all, this sort of opponent was a pretty mediocre appetizer before the real match. If the guy hadn't suddenly come at him, treating him like a punching bag to vent his anger, Sakamoto wouldn't have given him a second thought—or bothered to show him any courtesy.

"Hmph," Yamada snorted in agreement.

His companion Saito, however, looked a little worried. The underclassman clearly didn't take them seriously. Judging by his behavior, he wasn't the sort to kindly give all his points to a stranger, either. So there was only one possibility: he was good at chess, too.

But who was better—him, or the two of us?

That's right: Yamada and Saito were a team. Yamada's personality meant he didn't have many close friends, and Saito was his only friend as well as his rival. The two knew each other very well. To deal with opponents in competitions, they had practiced coordinating with each other. While playing, they could stand beside one another and communicate unseen through gestures, eye movements, and the movements of their lips.

Two against one!

That was the real reason Yamada had the confidence to sign the agreement.

Besides, Yamada was short on points. By this point in the year, he had only 130,000 personal points left. He had to spend points on various exams, and each month he had to hand most of them over to Miyabi Nagumo, who ruled the entire second year. Keeping 130,000 was already the result of his hard work.

Before long, Yamada brought over a teacher who was working in the club room.

With the teacher as a witness, the two sides signed an agreement.

The general terms were that they would play chess, and the winner would receive all the loser's personal points.

"Phew..."

After writing his name,

"Let's begin."

Yamada put down his pen with a thud, braced both hands on the table, and stared straight at Sakamoto. He looked like a gorilla stranded on a deserted island for ages without a banana, who had suddenly spotted a golden one on the beach and couldn't wait to stuff it into his mouth, peel and all.

Saito, who had naturally taken his place behind Sakamoto, gave Yamada a meaningful look, too.

Both of them were already imagining the underclassman breaking down in tears after losing all his points.

Sakamoto sat down calmly. Watching Yamada fidget in all sorts of ways, he could tell the two were highly coordinated. A strategy that relied on teamwork like this required them to keep an eye on the board while also communicating with each other. An ordinary person would have a hard time handling both, but unfortunately for them,

the outcome of this match had been decided before it even began.

When he was very young, Sakamoto had already easily defeated Sakayanagi Arisu, who had been hailed as a chess prodigy. Even then, Sakayanagi had played at about the level of an average adult. The way a prodigy developed was always hard to comprehend.

So Sakamoto himself didn't have a very clear idea of how good he was at chess now. His opponents had all been too weak.

Last time, some guy who claimed to be Japan's national high school chess champion had smiled and asked to play a few games with him. After three rounds, the guy had burst into tears and begged to become Sakamoto's disciple.

Behind the specially chosen brown-tinted glasses, the two couldn't see Sakamoto's expression at all.

The game had begun. As the pieces clicked into place, the thoughts of all three started moving.

Yet after only a few moves, Yamada found Sakamoto incredibly difficult to deal with. He could barely see any opening in Sakamoto's defense. The only apparent weakness was an obvious trap.

No one would fall for a trap like that, would they? Only an animal would blunder straight into one, like some canine spotting a steel trap,

then stepping right onto it without a hint of caution. The cold metal teeth pierced its body, but it couldn't escape. It could only limp along, dragging the bloodthirsty chunk of iron behind it.

Of the three, Saito was the one who felt it most deeply. At first, there had only been an opponent across the board. But the instant the pieces began to move, Sakamoto became the hunter, and Saito became the prey. No, the feeling was more like being toyed with.

He looked at Sakamoto's back. Though he couldn't see his face, he could easily imagine the expression of someone waiting to see whether an animal would fall into a trap.

The fourth move, the fifth, the sixth... This way? No, that's not right. What am I supposed to do?!

The two found it harder and harder to communicate, and beads of cold sweat suddenly appeared on their foreheads.

Across from them, however, Sakamoto wore a calm, unruffled smile. To Yamada and Saito, he seemed like an unfathomably cunning strategist.

"Checkmate!"

Yamada slumped into his chair, drained. His eyes were unfocused.

He had been shut down at nearly every turn, with no way to make a move. This feeling...

"I lost. I'll transfer all the points I have to you." Convinced by his defeat, Yamada prepared to hand over all the 130,000 points he had left.

"Wait, me too!" Saito said excitedly.

"Actually, the two of us played that game together. I thought that with me and Yamada, two chess experts, working together, we wouldn't have any opponents.

"But after playing against you, I understand what it means that there's always someone better. This despicable trick of ours deserves to be condemned. So please, take my points, too."

When a frog in a well sees its companion trying to climb out, it only laughs. But when it sees an eagle in the sky, it can only admire and look up to it, feeling its own insignificance.

The two frogs in the well, Saito and Yamada, now looked exceptionally solemn. To them, every second passed agonizingly slowly.

Behind the brown-tinted glasses, Sakamoto's eyes gave nothing away.

"No. I won't take either of your points." He lightly adjusted the brown-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"If the two of you were playing together from the start..."

Sakamoto gently picked up the agreement bearing their signatures.

Crack. He tore the paper in half.

"Then this agreement is invalid." Sakamoto smiled warmly.

Chapter 7: The Real Match Was Just Beginning