Ch.1 – EP05 Anger Bait

【On Monday morning】

The cold light streaming in from the entrance hall faintly illuminated the corridor.

Sora, holding a chessboard and Introduction to Chess in his hands, didn’t stop his steps toward the clubroom.

Since last week’s early-morning practices, his body had started moving at this hour on its own.

When he opened the door, Momoko was already sitting in a chair, twirling a plastic bottle in one hand.

“Morning, Sora. C’mon, we don’t have much time—sit.”

On the desk, the pieces he’d lined up yesterday for review were already beautifully set in the initial position.

The moment Sora sat down, he turned a page and moved a piece with his fingers.

The knight’s arc, the bishop’s diagonals—each one now entered his mind with a strange clarity.

As they were finishing the morning practice, Momoko suddenly halted a piece.

“Sora… you’re a different person from yesterday. What happened?”

Sora let the corner of his mouth lift faintly.

“Mm… I’m just feeling good today.”

The truth was, that uncanny sensation he’d felt when he gripped the pawn last night still lingered at his fingertips. But he didn’t put it into words.

____________________________________________________________________________________

【Lunchtime】

With the cafeteria’s bustle at their backs, the two of them opened their lunch boxes at a table in the corner and set a small board between them.

Momoko paused her hand and looked at Sora with a glare.

“Hey, what really happened? Don’t tell me you overtrained and awakened or something?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? A manga? (lol)”

“No, the way your eyes look during the game today, the timing when you advance your pieces, and that pawn handling… it’s like you grabbed something. I’m excited for the match against Soma-senpai!”

Momoko said it with a smile, but in her eyes there was a light that suggested she’d gained some certainty.

____________________________________________________________________________________

【After school, to the field of battle】

When they entered the chess club classroom, the atmosphere was more tense than usual.

Soma was already seated, setting up the board.

Leaning lightly against the backrest of his chair, he tilted his chin up and looked at the two of them.

Beside him, the club captain Iori stood quietly.

His back was straight; the gaze behind his glasses was gentle, yet somehow suggested calculation.

“You’re Sora-kun, right? I hear you’ve only been playing chess for a week?”

“…Yes.”

Iori smiled gently at the corners of his mouth.

“Soma went pretty far in last year’s tournament. Against a beginner, if we play even, it won’t be a fair match. How about handicapping Soma by removing a piece? Rook odds or knight odds.”

Before he finished speaking, Momoko slipped forward.

“Sora doesn’t need a handicap, Captain.”

She grinned and answered in his place.

“I drilled him thoroughly for a week—Sora won’t lose to someone like Soma-senpai even in an even game.”

Soma’s mouth curled upward.

"Well now, you sure do sound confident there, Momoko. How 'bout this, then: if I whoop him good, you gotta go out with me. And naturally, Sora's gonna have to give up on joinin' the chess club, ya hear?”

“That’s gross!” Momoko shot back instantly—and continued right away.

“But fine. Only, that’s not an even bet… If Sora wins, Soma-senpai becomes my slave until he graduates. How’s that?”

Soma snorted through his nose.

"Hmph, reckon not. Ain't no way I'm losin'. I'll take you on, bless your heart!”

Iori took a step back and surveyed the scene.

“As captain, I want Sora-kun to join the club… and I’d like to see Soma become a slave, too.”

He chuckled softly and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll act as patron for this match. Sora-kun, do your best. I’m cheering for you!”

Sora drew a deep breath.

(Why do I feel like… I’m suddenly in the middle of a battlefield I didn’t sign up for…?)

Soma set his hand on the board, the sound of adjusting pieces echoed.

From outside the room came the mingled sounds of students going home and distant club shouts.

All of it sharpened the silence before the battle about to begin.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Sora had the first move (White).

“Here I go.”

His first move was b4 (Polish Opening), a mere ripple. A pawn, not to the side, not straight ahead, but pecking at the corner.

—For a beginner it was, just a little, impolite. But at his fingertips, that “rudeness” fit him perfectly.

At the sound of the piece touching the board, Soma’s eyebrows twitched faintly.

“Hah? That, right from the start? You makin’ fun o’ me? That’s a scrub move.”

(That’s right. Thank you, for thinking so.)

Inside Sora’s chest, some switch clicked. A thin beta-value slider appeared in the center of his body, and it felt like the opponent’s anger thermometer was rising. Anger Bait—somehow, before the name came to his lips, the phenomenon had already come online.

Soma’s black major piece thunked into the center like driving a stake. The sound of correctness.

Sora gently layered pawns. Wing pawns, flank pawns, pawns that only open diagonal sightlines.

With each little push, Sora could tell Soma’s breathing was turning rough.

(Anger bubbling—still “pre-boil.” Bubbles clinging to the bottom. From here, I’ll steal time (oxygen).)

“That ain’t gonna work on me.”

Soma’s voice bluffed toughness, but his hands lunged forward. A rhythm like thrust, push, smash.

Sora didn’t meet it head-on. Instead of meeting it, he only shifted his position. With pawn prods he slowly smudged the opponent’s “lines of correctness,” re-papering the wallpaper of escape routes.

"Momoko—watch this, ya hear? When I'm done, you—”

“Yeah yeah. Make sure you write down the moves.”

Momoko was curt. But her eyes tracked Sora’s fingertips.

(Watch me—I’ll win with pawns. With the weakest piece, I’ll stab the king. I can do that!)

The clock ticked click-click on the board.

Sora kept tempo deep in his lungs. In 4/4 time—one, two, three, four. Inhale, exhale.

His habit of biting the inner cheek was about to appear, and he stopped it. Instead, he stroked the pawn’s head with his thumb. The sparks were still small, but the fuse was already glowing bright red.

“Keep ridin’ high and you’re gonna get hurt.”

Soma attacked. Gunpowder piled up on the kingside. His gaze only forward.

Sora kept jabbing regardless. The g-pawn edged forward. Black’s formation shortened its breathing.

(Anger, impatience, and next—blind spot.)

On the right wing of the board, White’s major pieces quietly circled a keyhole. The queen stood at a distance; the bishop merely waited at the end of a thin line. The lead role, to the very end, belonged to the pawn.

“Y'all quit messin' 'round with those noisy pawns. Come on and face me like a real man!”

Soma’s voice cracked slightly.

Sora deliberately inserted a loose move. Just a half-step of delay. It made the fuse look like someone had called wait on it.

(And there, Soma will push forward!)

As expected, Soma pushed forward. The king’s guard was thrown into disarray.

Somewhere on the board, there was a snap—or so it felt.

The beta-value slider inside Sora ratcheted up another notch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Momoko’s shoulders flinched. He could read her lips: “Ojej (uh-oh)…”

Soma didn’t notice. He was absorbed now.

“Watch me. Just one more move. Momoko’s already mine!”

(You’re really gonna say that?) Sora almost let out a wry laugh, and stopped. In place of his lips, a pawn laughed.

The position congealed like a thick fog.

The black king, in the upper-right of the board, had his space narrowed, each escape route tied off with white threads.

Sora pinched the end of a thread between his fingers and gave it a gentle tug. He took a beat—just one breath.

The clock’s second hand jumped. 1:11.

(Here.)

His right index finger touched the g-pawn.

Rather than pushing the piece first, Sora first pushed the air. From chest to fingertip, a thin flow like an empty straw.

The pawn went forward. Just one step forward.

g5—.

The board grew quiet with a sound.

The pawn’s diagonal-offered fangs pressed perfectly to the king’s throat.

The escape routes were blocked by friendly pieces and the opponent’s pride. Can’t take it. Can’t approach. Can’t retreat.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Checkmate.

“…Huh?”

The angry red drained smoothly from Soma’s eyes.

A beat late, he looked left and right at the pieces, looked at the clock, looked at Momoko, and finally looked at his own hands.

“No way. I can still play on.” (Why the hell did I play like this??)

A stray line, meant for no one, fell into the room. No reply came.

Sora exhaled. The heat left his finger joints.

(With the weakest piece, strike down the king.)

Momoko stepped closer and peered at the position. Then, in a voice only Sora could hear, she whispered softly:

“Doskonały! (Amazing!) …That was a beautiful Anger Bait. So you really had awakened♡”

“Eh! …Anger Bait? …So it was?” Sora looked at Momoko with a puzzled face.

“C’mon, you have to shake hands.”

Prompted by Momoko, Sora turned back to Soma and held out his hand.

“Thanks for the game.”

Soma gruffly—but firmly—returned the grip.

Soma: “You… piss me off. But you’re strong. Are you really a beginner!? Checkmating with a pawn… what is that, like cheating?”

Sora: “It’s not cheating. A pawn is light. That’s why it can weigh down the heart.”

“Sora-kun,” Captain Iori spoke up.

Sora: “Yes?”

Iori: “Do you know what that final checkmate is called?”

Sora: “Pawn mate. From the Bible, it’s also called David and Goliath. It was in the book.”

Iori: “You knew? Generally, you promote a pawn in the enemy camp and make it a queen, and a checkmate delivered by a pawn itself is very rare. It’s my first time seeing it… Don’t tell me you aimed to do that against Soma?”

Sora: “…No way, it was a coincidence.”

—Momoko cut in.

Momoko: “Yep yep, of course it was a coincidence♪ But that checkmate is very Sora-like. You usually space out, but when you do it, you’re utterly merciless♡”

Momoko grinned and glanced at Soma.

“So, Soma-senpai. Didn’t you say ‘Momoko’s mine’? Did I mishear?”

Soma: “…Forget it… please forget that. That part’s no count.” For a moment, he clenched his fist in frustration.

Momoko: “I’ll forget the ‘mine’ part, but I haven’t forgotten the slave part. Until graduation, okay, my dear slave♡” When Momoko pressed the point, Soma flushed to the ears and averted his gaze.

The sounds of cleaning up began. Each time a piece returned to the box, a small flame in Sora’s chest crackled out. As he went to fold the board, he happened to leave one white pawn in his palm. The branded dot still felt warm.

____________________________________________________________________________________

That night.

When he lay down on the bed, drowsiness came right away. With his eyes still closed, his fingers unconsciously pushed out the g-pawn.

—In the half-sleep, a black pawn stepped forward a single square.

Like blowing out the lingering scent of flames with one breath.

(Even in Black, something fits into place.)

He woke in the dim light and stared up at the ceiling.

Sora smiled slightly.

(Someday I’ll get that too.)

Outside the window, the night wind.

A dog barked in the distance, and fell silent.

As he sank into sleep, Sora formed one last word clearly.

“Anger Bait.”

And then, even in the dream, the white pawn once more went to g5.

A small blade touched, and the world went quiet.

Checkmate.