The Shorin Match

Arata sighed unsure how to proceed. “Are you serious, gramps?” Toma asked, eyeing the board. “Shorin’s not really my game.”

Mr. Yukari laughed. “No backing down. It’s a fair request.”

Toma sighed. “My dad tried to teach me when I was a kid. Said it would sharpen my mind. But, I stunk. Gave up after two secessions.”

Y”ou take the lazy option? Big shock.” Hana jibed, her arms crossed.

“Hey,” Toma smirked. “We can’t all be workaholics like you and my old man.”

Hana’s eyes searched the board as the old police officer set up his array. The game of Shorin was more complex than most strategy games, it started before the first pieces moved. There are nearly infinite different arrays the starting player can use, often they involve baiting a specific response from the opponent. Arata had some basic knowledge, but he was hardly confident.

Hana continued to study the board and slowly pulled the chair opposite out, sitting down slowly and rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll do it.”

Arata blinked. “You sure?”

Hana gave him a small smile, “Please. This game is just about strategy and preperation. Like Toma just pointed out, it’s kind of my thing.”

Mr. Yukari rubbed his hands together with a wide appraising smile. “I love a confident opponent, although I’m not used to them being pretty things like you, dear.”

“Just focus on the game.” Hana said, setting up her counter array and making the first move. As customary, for balance the one who sets up second gets to move first.

Arata hovered to the side of the board, opposite Toma who did the same on the other end of the board. The two boys flicked their gauge between the two players who were playing surprising fast in the opening.

The Shorin board looked ancient, its corners were weathered and smooth, but Arata could tell the colors were once vibrant turquoise and jade, the traditional piece colors.

Mr. Yukari shifted his shinobi with a clattering thunk right behind enemy lines. A bold strike. The shinobi could be dropped almost anywhere on the board, but it forfeits the right to promote.

“Your move,” Yukari said, gesturing.

Hana didn’t hesitate. She slid forward her cannon, a set up move.

The game was really on now. Hana was ignoring the old man’s feint and going for the kill.

It was almost hypnotic. Each piece clattered against the wood like hail. Yukari’s movements were deliberate and he gave a satisfied grunt when he slammed them down, while Hana’s attacks were more like sharp jabs, feeling out his perimeter with each lost vassal.

The two of them locked eyes trying to see which one would blink. Gauging each other. It was more like a card game with all the chips down, than a strategy game. It was intense.

Arata stood, he wanted to pace but didn’t want to distract the players. Their plays were beyond him now.

He couldn’t read the patterns well enough to know what was threatening what, but it seemed like Hana was doing well. He wiped the sweat of his palms on his pants unconsciously.

What if this is like the other visions? he wondered. What if something bad is about to happen?

He glanced at Toma, who was leaning against the wall, watching with a lazy expression. Arata still caught him sneaking his way. What had made him so concerned recently?

His fingers went back to the ring around his neck, rubbing the cool metal looking for comfort in its cold touch.

On the board, Hana had just moved, and Yukari slammed another piece down, this time lighting fast, like he was expecting it. For the first time, Hana hesitated. Her eyes darted across the pieces.

“Tch, you’re better than I thought” she muttered under her breath, moving again.

“Careful,” Yukari murmured, almost playfully. “One misstep and you’ll regret it...”

Minutes passed like hours. The room felt smaller somehow like it existed just for the game. The sound of each piece moving was deafening in that silent hall, echoing in Arata’s ears.

Suddenly, Hana reached for a piece and stopped, pulling her hand back. “Nice try.” she said, sliding a different piece forward, apparently having escaped Yukari’s trap given his frustrated desk pound.

Arata let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Yukari laughed and shook his head. “Well played, girly. I concede.”

Hana nodded in acknowledgement and the old man started clapping, slow and deliberate.

“Well done,” he said. “Very well done indeed, you my dear are a marvel.”

Hana blushed and gave a flattered wave. “You almost had me.”

“Almost,” Yukari agreed, leaning back. “Alright, a deal’s a deal. You win, you get your story.”

Toma straightened, looking more serious. “We’re listening.”

Mr. Yukari looked out the window and took a few breaths as if gathering his thoughts. The wind rattled the pane violently.

“You kids know why this town is called Minakasa?” he asked, voice low.

Arata frowned. “Not really.”

“Well.” Yukari said, leaning forward. Long time ago, in the times before the ascension, there lived a beautiful woman in these parts. A mere peasant, spinster, nothing special at first glance. But she had a gift. She could see things before they came to be. Disasters, mostly. Storms, droughts, fires. She warned the villagers before each incident, saving their lives, and homes. She told them to tie things down before tornados, save food ahead of bad harvests. That sort of thing”

He started collecting his jade pieces back up again, a dreamy look as he recited his home’s precious lore.

“Her talents got her noticed. Word spread, and soon enough, the Emperor himself sent for her. It’s said he fell in love with her at first sight. Or well, at least in lust.”

Yukari’s lips twisted. “She didn’t reciprocate his affection, but agreed to become his sixth wife after the tyrant threatened her village.”

Hana was listening enraptured, her body tense. “She sacrificed herself?”

“Exactly, like you did with your maiden piece at the end,” Yukari said, with a fond smile. “Minakasa’s gambit was shrewd, however. She was no victim or martyr. She knew her fate was sealed the moment she stepped into that palace. Legend says that she foresaw her own death should she stay, a plague. One she willingly carried... to the Emperor’s bed.”

He smiled faintly. “They died on their wedding night, a week after she arrived in Kyoseki. The dynasty fell apart.”

The sober silence hung in the air.

“That’s... hardcore,” Toma said, impressed.

“This village is named after her,” Yukari continued. “Minakasa. Her emblem still flies here, though it’s lost whatever its original meaning was, of course. The town went on in peace for many years, until the cult cropped up.”

Arata’s stomach lurched as Yukari continued. “The cult co-opted her story. It was thirty years ago, a man named Hamta started preaching around here. He claimed he had visions, just like Minakasa had. Said he saw the end of days coming, a grand judgement. His followers were loyal, but small in number. They never gained much momentum, no matter how much they preached.”

Yukari’s face darkened.

“Their leader died unheard, and one of his acolytes snapped. A train bombing in Sekikyo. Thirteen died. That lone act of terror was meant to force the Vanguard to take action, to prevent the so-called prophecy. It was nasty business.”

Arata swallowed hard, thinking back to the old newspaper Hana had found.

“The truth got buried,” Yukari went on. “The Vanguard didn’t want to make a martyr or cause a panic. Only the most minor details of his beliefs leaked during the closed trial. Enough that a relative of one of the victims burned down the shrines that defied Minakasa. After that, the cult’s influence dried up. No one wanted to be associated with them, and most members went to ground. Some became destitute. That might be why you get so many old homeless people in this town.”

He sighed, it was a slow and long one.

“Although I suppose the end they foretold really is coming, so what does an old man like me know?”

The room fell quiet.

“Thank you for telling us,” Hana said softly.

Yukari smiled, eyes bright. “No, thank you. For visiting me today.”

Yukari pulled a small, ornate timekeeper from his pocket and set it gently on the table. It was beautiful, but cracked, its surface was polished to a sheen, clearly it was of sentimental value.”

“I won’t be needing this anymore,” he said calmly.

“What do you mean?” Arata asked.

Yukari’s eyes sparkled. “Today’s my last day.”

“What?”

“I took an extra few doses of my medicine this morning. It won’t be long now.”

Hana shot to her feet. “We need to tell the nurse—”

“No.” Yukari held up a hand, firm but gentle. “I’ve been terminal for years. I’ve had a countdown hanging over my head much longer than anyone in this town. I’m just going a few months earlier than the rest of you.” He gave a sincere look, “This is my choice. I’m just glad I got to meet some bright kids like you before the end.”

Arata stared, words caught in his throat.

Yukari slid the timekeeper across the table. “Take it. A little something to remember me by.”

Hana looked like she wanted to argue, but Yukari’s eyes were clear and calm. Arata reached out and picked up the timekeeper, feeling its strange weight in his hand.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

They left in silence, stepping out into the brisk evening. Clouds hung, fat with future rain.

Arata stared down at the timekeeper, feeling the cold bite of metal against his palm.

“That was... a lot,” Toma said finally.

“Hamta,” Hana muttered, frowning deeply. “That name...”

She stopped walking, her eyes going wide. “Wait.”

She fumbled in her bag and pulled out the flyer she’d grabbed earlier. The one advertising a guest speaker at the temple.

She held it up, her hands shaking.

“The new shepherd... her name’s Hamta. You don’t think she’s related?” A pretty face beamed up at them as they regarded the image.

Arata could feel his eyes growing wide. He recognized that face. He needed to see her in person to be sure, he didn’t want to freak out, but she looked very like the woman in the vision, the one with the gun…