Ch.1 – EP04 Sparks of a Challenge

That day, the moment the lunch bell finished ringing, Sora spoke to Momoko.

“…I’m joining. The chess club.”

Momoko paused mid-bite and grinned at Sora.

“Hm, finally in the mood?”

“To be honest, I’m still scared. But in yesterday’s game with Akira-senpai—even though I lost… it was frustrating, but fun.”

“Alright, then strike while the iron’s hot. After school, we’ll go submit your official application.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

That afternoon, the two of them headed for the clubroom.

When they slid open the door, the same scent of wood and the same quiet air as yesterday wrapped around Sora. Amid the clear sounds of pieces clicking together, Momoko walked straight toward a boy seated at the back of the room.

“Soma-senpai!”

Soma looked up when called. Shortish hair, calm eyes, an aura that mixed sharpness with maturity. A native Osaka dialect speaker. Called out by Momoko, he flushed a little.

Momoko pressed on Sora’s back, nudging him forward.

“This kid, Sora. He’s joining from today.”

Soma’s expression clouded in an instant.

"…Momoko, darlin', you the one what brung 'im?"

“That’s right.”

Soma turned his gaze to Sora. An appraising look, like he was measuring him.

"You just started yestiddy or today, a complete greenhorn, ain'tcha?”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

"Sorry, but we don't let no folks like that in this here club. They'll stain the club's pride, ya hear?”

At the abrupt, cold words, Sora frowned before he knew it.

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

Fiddling with a piece on the table, Soma spoke without averting his eyes.

"We're gunnin' for nationals. If'n you wanna play as a hobby, ya best be doin' it somewhere else.”

The air went taut with tension. But what shattered that tension was Momoko’s high-pitched laughter.

“Oh come on, Soma-senpai. That’s so small of you—like, really small.”

“…Say what?”

Momoko stepped forward and gave Sora’s shoulder a pon.

“Then let’s do this. I’ll make Sora here stronger than you in one week. That okay? You won’t have complaints then, right?”

“Huh!?” Sora turned. “Wait a sec, I never—”

“Sora, Zrób to. (Do it.)”

Momoko declared it with a smile still on her face.

"Momoko, darlin', why you makin' promises like that to this fella? You gotta get ready for the tournament too, ya hear!”

“Soma-senpai, is that jealousy~? One week from now, Monday. Don’t you dare run.”

Soma went silent for a moment, then lifted his reddened face and snorted.

"Well now, reckon I'll just take you up on that then. Hope this ain't gonna be a doggone wild goose chase!”

And like that—half on its own—the “One-Week Intensive Project” began.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Sora, you said you’ve got a chess set, right? The one with a queen that has the same ornamentation as the cover of ‘Introduction to Chess.’”

“Something Dad brought me long ago as a souvenir from a business trip.”

“Then starting tomorrow, bring that and that ‘Introduction to Chess’ to school. You remember things differently when you study with tools you’re used to.”

From the next day, Momoko’s hellish training began.

He was told to come to school at 6 a.m. before classes started, and of course at lunch, and after school he was drilled thoroughly in the clubroom until 7 p.m.

“Spójrz! (Look!) That knight move—you made the same mistake yesterday!”

“Yeah, I know…”

“If you knew, you wouldn’t make the same mistake! Do it over!”

She reset the pieces on the board, and Sora let out a deep sigh.

On the desk, “Introduction to Chess” and the wooden chess set were always left open.

Even after the after-school games ended, at night they had a so-called “review session” at a family restaurant near their houses, cramming until almost the last train.

“Have you memorized this page already?”

“…Probably.”

“‘Probably’ doesn’t cut it. ‘Memorized’ means you can name the piece placement and the sequence with your eyes closed.”

With a sleep-deprived, hazy head, Sora reproduced the positions as told.

At first irritation outweighed everything, but after a few days he started to feel the moves and patterns slipping into his head bit by bit.

____________________________________________________________________________________

The weekend arrived, the training entered its final stage, and grew even more grueling.

Momoko even pushed her way into Sora’s house.

“You’d better be grateful I’m sacrificing my weekend for you! Make sure you tell your family properly.”

“My house—Dad’s overseas on a business trip, so it’s just me right now.”

“Eh! Really? What about your mom?”

“Mom died when I was little.”

“Przykro mi to słyszeć. (I’m sorry to hear that.) …Sorry. But okay. In that case, I’ll make you a lunch box and bring it.”

“It’s fine, I always cook for myself. As thanks for teaching me, at least let me treat you to lunch.”

“Heeey, so you can cook, Sora. Come to think of it, you always bring a lunch box to school. Didn’t know you made it yourself—unexpected! So that’s what they mean by ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

The training in Sora’s room wasn’t just about piece movement—he was made to memorize the names of openings from “Introduction to Chess,” patterns of attack and defense, and even entire opening move orders.

“Come on, Ruy Lopez, one more time!”

“…e4, e5, Nf3, Nc6, Bb5.”

“OK, next! Scotch!”

“e4, e5, Nf3, Nc6, d4… Wait, how many times have we done this?”

In addition to memorizing piece setups, he did timed practice using a sandglass, comeback practice from deliberately worse positions, speed chess, and more—“Introduction to Chess” contained training methods so practical it didn’t feel like a beginner’s book, and under Momoko’s supervision, Sora practiced those as well.

“This ‘Introduction to Chess’ really feels like it was written for you, Sora.”

Smiling, Momoko riffled through the pages of “Introduction to Chess.”

Suddenly, her finger stopped. Then she showed Sora the author profile on the back cover.

“Hey, Sora, you probably don’t know this, but the author of this book is super famous in some circles.”

“Famous?” Sora stopped his hands.

“Grandmaster, Elena Kowalska (Helena Kowalska). She’s actually the chess player I respect the most.”

“Heh…”

He said it with his mouth, but Sora’s expression was somehow stiff.

Without noticing, Momoko continued cheerfully.

“There’s even a rumor that long ago she beat the strongest AI at the time—though apparently there’s no official record. But if it were true, wouldn’t that be amazing? A human beating an AI. And Elena’s from Poland. Maybe she’s your grandmother or something.”

“No way. My maternal grandmother is apparently Polish, but I’ve never met her and her name isn’t Elena.”

Lost in thought, Sora traced a white pawn with his fingertips. The smell of wood faintly tickled his nose, and beneath the smooth surface he could feel the minute unevenness of the grain. When his fingers touched it, it was cool at first, but warmth spread slowly as if transferring his body heat. The carved letters were deeper than he’d thought, with a sensation of his nail catching on them. As if an imprint carved there over long years, it felt like a weight he couldn’t let go of—so it seemed.

____________________________________________________________________________________

【A Strange Discovery】

The training continued even on Sunday, the day before the match with Soma, and Sora somehow worked through every item in the planned regimen.

After Momoko went home at 8 p.m., Sora spread “Introduction to Chess” and the chess set on his desk and faced the board alone.

Outside, only the sound of wind could be heard, and the room’s light cast shadows of the pieces.

When he turned the page, the entry for “Pawn Mate (= David and Goliath Mate)” caught his eye.

A striking checkmating pattern where the king is mated by a pawn—the small felling the king.

However, because it only comes about under certain conditions—like coincidental factors or a pile-up of the opponent’s mistakes—it is something you almost never see in practical play, like a straight flush in poker.

Under the diagram, a small line in an unfamiliar foreign language was written.

(…What are these letters?)

Just then, a white pawn came into the edge of his vision.

He picked it up without thinking, and the moment he looked at the bottom—his breath caught.

There, carved finely, were exactly the same letters that were on the book’s page.

“…Has this been here from the start?”

Tracing it with his fingertip, he felt as if a faint warmth were passing from deep within the wood grain.

At the same time, something snapped in the back of his head.

In the next instant, the board spread vividly across his mind.

Piece positions, move orders, the opponent’s replies… As if they were being connected by lines, he could see them intuitively.

(…What is this?)

Clutching the pawn, Sora felt his heartbeat quicken—thump-thump (heartbeat).

He didn’t know the reason. But a single certainty was beginning to burn quietly—that something would happen in tomorrow’s game.