Ch.2 – EP21 Afternoon Beat

【Lunchtime — “The Reason for the Tardiness”】

The venue’s ceiling was high, and the air-conditioning flowed mixed into the white light. The morning round had broken for now, and the bustle of the Second Exhibition Hall was gently overwritten by the smells of paper-cup juice and sandwiches. In front of the information boards, crowds surged and retreated like waves.

“Sora-kun, congrats on getting through Round One.”

Iori—who had likewise safely cleared Round One against Haruka—approached in his white shirt with a gentle smile. “By the way, I heard you left earlier than Sōma and Akira, but why did you end up late?”

“Uh, um…” Sora’s eyes wandered as he scratched the back of his neck.

Momoko gave a small cough. “Club Captain Iori, so, we walked from Takeda Station, but realized we’d taken a wrong turn on the way… and, you know, Sora doesn’t carry a phone.”

(Eh! This is my fault!?) Sora panicked on the inside.

“So we hurried to double back, but then at the intersection an elderly lady collapsed while waiting at the light… We thought it was heatstroke, so we took her to the hospital. That made us late…”

(Momoko…) Sora looked at her profile in silence. Within the lie was a straightforward kind of protection, and it lessened his guilt just a little.

(…The timing of a granny collapsing at a crosswalk is way too perfect.) Sōma frowned and snarked inwardly.

But Iori clenched a fist with moist eyes.

“You two did a good thing. I’m moved. Then it can’t be helped that you were late. —What about the granny?”

“Once we got to the hospital she perked right up and said, ‘thank you,’” Momoko showed a smile that wasn’t fabricated.

“Mm-hmm. If that’s the situation, it can’t be helped. It’s bad to be late to a match, but helping each other matters more!”

Iori pulled a small memo from his chest pocket and jotted down, “I’ll cover the taxi fare from the club budget.”

(This is definitely a lie…) Sōma looked up at the ceiling and heaved a long sigh.

“When you say ‘club budget,’ you mean I’m fronting the cash…”

Sora bowed his head. “…Thank you very much.”

(Truth is, we were abducted,) he swallowed the words that had risen to his throat.

Just then, Akira came running over. The bundle of papers in his hand flapped.

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【Quarterfinal Pairings — Information Is Armor】

“Everyone, the pairings from the quarterfinals onward are out,” Akira held up the papers.

“The moment we’ve been waiting for. Hang on, lemme check the opponents’ data.”

Sōma yanked his laptop from his bag, booted it on his knees. His fingers danced lightly over the keys. ELOs, past results, preferred setups lined the screen.

“First, Momoko. You’ve got Hiroki from Hiroshima.”

Sōma read: “ELO 1890. A nationals regular with flawless defense. Never sacrifices a piece, very solid. Not just tenacious—after the opponent’s attack winds down, his counterstrikes are sharp. He often reverses games using the opponent’s impatience.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best!” Momoko raised a hand lightly and winked.

“And Sora. Next up you’ve got a strong one right away. A local from Kyoto—Yurika.”

“Oh, one of the notable players I covered in last night’s meeting, Kyoto’s refined young lady! ELO 2060. And her traits are…”

“‘Her face is cute,’ right?” Momoko cut in. “Sora, don’t let your guard down!”

“Let my guard down how…?” Sora flushed to his ears.

“Let your guard down by staring.” Momoko’s gaze stuck to Sora with a damp glare.

“…I won’t.”

Everyone burst out laughing at once. The small ripples of laughter gently broke and reset the surface of their tension.

“Lastly, Club Captain Iori’s opponent…”

Sōma’s face clouded…

“Looks like Sandra… ELO 2400, an invited player. The #1 favorite and the closest to an AI.”

“So I’ve drawn her… Still, if I keep winning I’d face her eventually anyway, and I’ll just play my own chess,” Iori smiled loosely. But his eyes were already chasing shadows on the board.

“And Rei, last year’s champion, is up against Keita from Hiroshima—curious about that too,” Akira said, looking over the bracket from the quarterfinals onward.

13:00 A — Hiroki (ELO 1950) vs Momoko (ELO 1000)
13:00 B — Rei (ELO 2250) vs Keita (ELO 2010)
15:00 C — Sandra (ELO 2400) vs Iori (ELO 2100)
15:00 D — Yurika (ELO 2060) vs Sora (ELO 1000)
Tomorrow’s semifinals will be the winners of A vs B and C vs D 

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【 The Concession Stand — An Icy Voice and Sweet Calories】

In front of the concession stand. Inside the refrigerated case, an array of colorful sandwiches and rice balls.

“Here, Sora, make sure you get your carbs. We’ve got two matches in the afternoon too. Want me to pick for you?”

“I’m fine… I can pick for myself…”

(Probably tuna. Or egg? No, tuna & egg?)

“Are you two dating here?”

A voice cold as ice sliced vertically through the concession stand’s buzz.

They turned. A blonde girl held a bottle of mineral water with a dry smile. Just by standing there, the time around her seemed to slow to her beat.

“Sandra!”

Sora: “We’re not exactly dating…”

Sandra: “Actually, winning because of time trouble is just… pathetic. ♡”

Momoko shrugged and smiled softly.

Momoko: “But he won. The result is what matters. And Sora didn’t do it because he wanted a time trouble.”

Sandra: “Oh? Then why, pray tell?”

Momoko (eyes flitting, inserting just a one-beat pause): “W-we were… helping an old lady who collapsed at a crosswalk.”

(Internally blushing at herself for saying it. Momentum matters.)

Sandra mixed a tiny breath into a laugh.

Sandra: “How quaint. Anyway, my next game is against Iori, who also goes to your school, right? I’ll show you what a difference in class looks like. Try to keep up. ♡”

She tossed the empty bottle into the trash and left without a sound.

Only the remaining air held a faint trace of ice.

Sora’s heartbeat was thrown off for an instant.

“…Sandra’s beat is the real thing… strong.”

As if nothing had happened, Momoko turned back and lightly touched her fingertips to Sora’s arm.

“Hey. Do we look like we’re dating? …We could just start dating, you know?”

(Thump.) “Uh… we’ve got matches this afternoon—please, let me focus on the games…”

“Joking. —For now.”

Momoko grinned mischievously and set tuna & egg on the tray. “Here you go, the carb combo.”

(She read me…!) Sora bit into the sandwich with his ears still hot. The air-conditioning stroked his nape, and the gentle calm of sugar settled into his stomach.

(Four beats. A shape I can return to. This afternoon—Yurika.)

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【Each One’s Afternoon — Yurika’s Beauty, Sandra’s Blade】

Back at the table, Sōma was still tapping away on his laptop.

“Yurika’s board preferences are orderly shapes. Aesthetic, but underpinned by logic. Symmetry, harmony, economy. —In other words, she’s basically the opposite of you.”

“The opposite…?”

“You bend the board through beat and breath. She organizes the board through beauty. Whether you go with 21 seconds depends on your opponent’s beat, but make sure you plant one shot of ‘explainable surprise’ somewhere. —Let the shape stay beautiful, then boom at the end, or something like that.”

“…Got it,” Sora nodded.

(Aim for a “delayed shock” that doesn’t break the beauty.)

Iori handed him a plastic bottle. “Hydration. Don’t forget your salt.”

Akira set down a small packet of tablets. “Na intake. Drink 1.5 L.”

“Roger.”

(Off-board is set. On-board, I’ll set it.)

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“Round 2 players, please proceed to your boards.”

The English announcement flowed. The crowd rose; chairs creaked in unison.

“I’m off.”

Sora folded the sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the trash. Bullseye sound.

Momoko raised a hand.

“Good luck. Don’t forget low-altitude flight.”

“Roger.”

(A shape to return to—the center, four beats, my own voice.)

In front of the postings: Momoko vs Hiroki, Rei vs Keita, Sandra vs Iori, and Sora vs Yurika.

Each name seemed to shine with its own breathing.

At the corner of the concession stand, a blonde silhouette glanced sideways. With a fresh bottle in hand, Sandra said expressionlessly:

Sandra: “Try not to trip over your own heartbeat, Sora.”

Sora didn’t stop walking.

“You too. Iori-senpai is strong.”

His reply in English was short, but delivered within a four-beat interval.

The corner of Sandra’s lip rose, like a tiny needle.

Quiet piece-sounds began to fill the venue once more.

From here on, it was the afternoon on the board.

And the next move toward victory.