COTE : There is Something Wrong With Hikigaya

"Hey, did you hear? Shimada-senpai seems to have lost!" 

"Matsumoto-senpai made it into the reward tournament as a first-dan player, and he lost too?" 

"Yeah, and I heard the challenger is just a first-year! Now it's Shimada, the club president, taking him on! As soon as everyone heard, they rushed over!" 

"What?! Shimada is a second-dan player, ranked in the top 10 among high school shogi players nationwide! He's the strongest in our school's history and is expected to reach third-dan before graduation. That freshman is in trouble!" 

Two students hurried down the hallway and soon arrived at the clubroom, where seven or eight other students had already gathered. In the center of the crowd, two students were locked in a game of shogi. 

Seeing this, the two newcomers instinctively held their breath and stepped lightly. Luckily, the shogi club's room was big enough, and there weren't too many people, so they quickly found a spot to watch. But as soon as they saw the board, they both gasped. 

What an intense game! 

Fortunately, Shimada was in control. If he kept his advantage through the middle game and carried it into the endgame, that first-year would definitely lose. 

Suddenly, a chilling aura filled the room. The club president, Shimada, was about to unleash his ultimate move. He suddenly moved a piece that had barely been touched in the corner of the board. The moment it landed, a powerful pressure surged across the board, hitting the spectators like a tidal wave. 

"Static Rook! That's the president's specialty! He's finally making his move!" 

The club members watching were thrilled, already picturing their president crushing this cocky freshman. 

Shimada shifted from defense to offense, attacking aggressively. Every move was precise and sharp, each one carrying the weight of a finishing blow. If the dead-eyed freshman made even the slightest mistake, he'd be completely trapped. 

But to everyone's surprise, the first-year remained calm. As soon as Shimada placed a piece, he responded instantly—less than three seconds apart! 

Shimada abruptly looked up, narrowing his eyes at the freshman, who was still as composed as ever. Then, out of nowhere, he let out a low, eerie laugh, as if saying, "If you want a fight, then let's fight." Their pace grew faster and faster. 

 Unlike other sports, speed in board games isn't about physical motion—it's about how fast the brain can think. The room fell silent as everyone held their breath, afraid even the slightest sound might disturb their concentration. 

Blades clashed, storms raged—each move was dangerously sharp. Attack, counter, attack, counter—the outcome could shift in an instant. 

At first, everyone thought the freshman would be defeated soon, but his endurance was shocking. After all, Shimada had a reputation—he was known as "Lightning Shimada" for his incredible speed in fast games. 

The game had reached its peak, and the winner would be decided within the next few moves. 

"It's finally happening." 

That thought ran through every shogi club member's mind. Almost as if responding to their anticipation, Shimada suddenly paused and looked up again, locking eyes with his opponent. 

A smirk crept onto his face. 

At that moment, it was as if thunder roared in everyone's ears. 

A terrifying aura rose from Shimada, almost tangible, like a storm brewing, lightning flashing. Then, a deafening dragon's roar echoed through the room! 

A dragon. 

Like a dragon. No, it was a real dragon! 

The Rook soared into a dragon, the Lance promoted into a stronger piece! 

Three years had passed—this was it! 

A golden dragon burst from the board, roaring to the heavens, sweeping away everything in its path. The once evenly matched game had now completely shifted in Shimada's favor. 

It was over. 

The spectators sighed internally. Within a few more moves, this freshman would be utterly defeated. 

But even with defeat all but certain, the first-year's face remained calm. His composure was admirable, but in the end, that was all it was.

Just as the boy with dead-fish eyes made his move, his hand moved slowly but surely, placing the piece with effortless ease. It was a simple move, yet it felt natural and seamless, as if it had always belonged there. The once-imposing, seemingly unstoppable kill formation dissolved like spring snow. 

"Huh? Why isn't the president making a move?" 

Everyone suddenly realized that President Shimada, who had been certain of victory just moments ago, was frozen in place. His hand, which had been about to deliver the final blow, hung in the air, unmoving. 

One second… two seconds… ten seconds… a full minute passed, yet Shimada still hadn't made his next move. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, and even the slowest among the spectators could tell that something was off. 

Finally, President Shimada slowly lowered his arm and looked up, meeting the boy's gaze. He had thought those dead-fish eyes were nothing special, but now, they felt strangely unsettling—like a pair of eyes that could see right through him. 

"You… Who are you? That was… the Dragon Slayer's move… Could it be… a Divine Hand?!" 

Shimada stared in disbelief at the boy across from him. "No way… Are you SAI?!" 

"?" 

"Sorry, I got too into the game. Wrong scene." 

Hikigaya stood up and bowed. "Thank you for your guidance, senpai." 

Shimada let out an awkward chuckle before something clicked in his mind. "No need to be so modest. But your strategy and playstyle… they seem oddly familiar…" 

Hikigaya didn't answer. Instead, Matsumoto, who had been watching the whole time, suddenly spoke up. "The Eternal Seven-Crown Dragon King!" 

"That's it! The strategy and playstyle… they're exactly like the Eternal Dragon King's!" 

Now that Matsumoto mentioned it, Shimada finally realized it too. 

The title of Eternal Dragon King wasn't just any title—it belonged to one of the strongest players in the history of shogi, a master who held seven eternal titles. His tactics, style, and game records had been studied and analyzed by countless players who came after him. 

"It's just a poor imitation," Hikigaya admitted. "To be honest, I also studied your past games before this match, while you knew nothing about my playstyle. So winning this round was really just luck." 

Shimada was momentarily stunned. Regardless of whether that was true or not, he appreciated the younger student offering him a way to save face. It made him feel a bit more fond of him. 

After the match, Shimada invited Hikigaya to join the shogi club. Hikigaya shook his head and made up an excuse to decline. 

"Well, I suppose there are more important things than club activities in this school," Shimada said, not pushing any further. He then gave Hikigaya a meaningful look. "A bet's a bet. I've already sent the points to you." 

"Thank you, senpai." 

With that, Hikigaya got up and left the clubroom. 

"Class D, huh? Looks like this year's first-years are something else." 

Shimada muttered to himself as he watched Hikigaya's retreating figure. 

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