But as the game moved into the middle stage, both players slowed noticeably.
Shikadai propped his chin on one hand, the fingers of his other hand hovering above a piece. He frowned slightly, eyes fixed on the board as if he could see through every square.
Child Emperor had dropped his usual grin. He had even stopped licking his lollipop. Behind his monocle, his eyes darted across the board, and now and then his fingers traced lines in the air as though he were calculating something.
A single move often took several minutes of careful thought.
The noise from the other tables might as well not have existed. Both were wholly absorbed in the silent battle on the board.
"Shikadai, what's wrong?" Boruto asked quietly, growing anxious as he watched. "Is he really that good? Don't you usually spot an opening right away?"
Shikadai did not look up. His voice was low and taut with concentration. "Boruto, don't talk."
"He's strong. His setup is meticulous, he thinks many moves ahead, and he uses the rules of shogi cleverly."
"You could say we've finally met our match. Now it's a question of who can think further ahead and who slips up first."
"If you're bored, go look around on your own. This game could take a while."
With that, he sank back into thought, staring at the board almost without blinking, as though the entire world had shrunk to its nineteen intersecting lines.
Boruto looked at Shikadai, then at Child Emperor, who was just as still as a statue, and pursed his lips helplessly.
His interest in shogi went no further than knowing the rules. Watching a battle of wits this intense did get dull after a while.
"Fine, fine. You two chess fanatics take your time." Boruto stood and stretched.