The moment the final game ended, Yukima Azuma calmly stood up, brushing the dust off his sleeves as if he'd just finished reorganizing a bookshelf rather than sweeping the Ryuuou Finals 4–0.
Across from him, Kawai Kenichi sat stunned, staring at the board as if searching for the lost meaning of life.
Azuma stepped forward.
Just like during the qualifiers, he reached out and gave Kawai's shoulder a firm, reassuring pat.
(づ>/////<)づ♡< p>
"I almost lost," Azuma said.
His tone was serious. But then he flashed a sly grin and held up the sachet on his waist.
"…If not for Senpai's scented pouch, that is."
(๑>•̀๑)
Kawai, still dazed, could only nod robotically.
"This is what crushing defeat smells like…"
After a brief moment of camaraderie and a few congratulatory hugs with his shogi circle, Kiyotaki Keika approached Azuma with a gentle reminder.
"Azuma-kun, your post-match interview is about to start."
Of course. He had just won three hundred million yen in prize money. This year's Ryuuou tournament was stacked with sponsors, and at the top of that list was none other than Momobami Newspaper.
Translation: Media obligations were non-negotiable.
Without saying a word, Azuma took a deep breath.
Then, like a proper showman, he reached out—grabbing one hand from Hinatsuru Ai and one from Sora Ginko—and walked with them toward the hall that had been converted into a press conference venue.
The moment the trio appeared under the camera lights, click—click—click!
Camera flashes erupted like fireworks.
To the reporters' surprise—and delight—it was a striking entrance:
The newly crowned Ryuuou himself.
An adorable young girl in a frilly dress, holding his hand with childlike innocence.
And the legendary Snow White of Naniwa, radiating poise and icy grace.
If someone had tried to design the perfect PR photo, they couldn't have done better.
Thankfully, both Ai and Ginko were no strangers to public scrutiny.
Ai, as the heiress of the prestigious Hinatsuru family, had long been trained to face public attention with grace.
Ginko, as a reigning queen in women's shogi, was already an idol in the scene.
Both handled the barrage of camera flashes with serene elegance.
The Interview Began.
"Congratulations, Yukima Azuma-san," said the lead reporter. "You've just become the youngest player in history to attain 8-dan, win the Ryuuou title, and break records all across the board!"
"How do you feel right now?"
Azuma leaned slightly toward the mic. His tone was as flat as an untouched shogi board.
"Very emotional," he said.
(„• ֊ •„)
The reporters blinked.
…He looked anything but emotional.
No fist pumps. No celebratory screams. Just polite blinking and the calm demeanor of a monk.
"Does he even know he won three hundred million yen?"
Another question came quickly.
"Yukima 8-dan, to what do you attribute this incredible success?"
Azuma didn't hesitate.
"Diligence to make up for my shortcomings, I think."
ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ
More twitching among the reporters.
"Your shortcomings!?"
"Bro, you just vaporized a field of professionals!"
Realizing the standard questions weren't producing soundbites, one reporter decided to switch tactics.
They gestured toward the two individuals standing at Azuma's side.
"And these two are…?"
At that, Azuma finally lit up.
He turned to Ginko and gently squeezed her hand.
"This is my Senpai, Sora Ginko."
He smiled with rare warmth, his voice brimming with sincerity.
"I'm sure many of you already know her—the legendary 'Snow White of Naniwa.'"
"I wouldn't be here without the dedicated guidance of my mentors, Master Kiyotaki Kousuke and Keika-senpai."
"But the person I owe the most… is Ginko-senpai."
"Without her, I would've never made it this far."
♡〜٩( ˃▿˂ )۶〜♡
Sora Ginko's calm mask cracked.
Her entire face flushed bright red.
⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
"Th-that's too much…"
The reporters perked up like cats spotting a can opener.
Cameras turned. Flashes exploded.
Their hands, still tightly clasped, became the center of attention.
A genius Ryuuou and the Snow White of Naniwa?!
This wasn't just a victory—it was a romantic bombshell.
As the flashes finally died down, Azuma stepped behind Hinatsuru Ai.
Gently, he placed his hands on her tiny shoulders and nudged her forward.
"This is Hinatsuru Ai."
"She's the person I made a promise to before the tournament began—that if I became Ryuuou, I would take her as my disciple."
The cameras went wild again.
The Ryuuou's Disciple?!
A child prodigy?!
"Shishou~!" Ai beamed, her voice bubbly with joy.
She hadn't expected Azuma to announce her discipleship so publicly. Her round eyes sparkled with excitement, practically glowing on camera.
(๑✪◡✪๑)
Azuma grinned.
Winning titles? Sure, that was cool.
But what was even better?
Flaunting your beautiful Senpai and adorable disciple in front of the entire nation.
That was the true victory.
Let them take their pictures. He had already won life.
But the press wasn't done yet.
"May I ask," one reporter said, leaning forward eagerly, "what is Yukima 8-dan's next goal?"
Azuma didn't miss a beat.
"Eternal Ryuuou."
The air buzzed.
Everyone knew he wasn't far off—he only needed to hold the title through a few more rounds. If he kept it long enough, the Eternal title would be his.
Another question flew:
"Then… any long-term ambitions?"
Azuma paused for dramatic effect.
Then, with a perfectly straight face:
"Prime Minister of Japan."
( ,,⩌'︿'⩌,,)
Reporters: ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!?
Before they could recover from the shock, Azuma grabbed Ginko and Ai by the hands and vanished like a ninja, ducking out of the press room with perfect footwork.
The Next Morning – Hinatsuru Estate
Azuma woke up refreshed and well-rested. But the moment he stepped outside his guest room, he sensed something was… off.
The decor had changed overnight.
Outside the estate gate, red lanterns were strung across the path.
On either side of the estate's stone walls, deep crimson silk banners flapped in the morning wind.
Drums were playing. Gongs were ringing. There was even a hint of firecrackers in the air.
"Did I miss a festival?"
Just then, Hinatsuru Akina emerged from a side room.
Azuma intercepted her quickly.
"H-Hinatsuru-san, what's going on?"
"Ah, today is your disciple acceptance banquet," she said cheerfully. "Come, come. Ai is waiting."
Azuma twitched.
"…Then why does this look like a Chinese wedding?!"
He followed her through the corridors, still hoping this was all a misunderstanding.
Surely they just wanted to make the event festive, right?
"…They just… didn't study Chinese culture deeply. Right?"
"…They wouldn't…"
And then—
He entered the grand hall.
Right in the center—
A small figure clad in an elaborate crimson ceremonial dress.
A long silk veil covered her head. Embroidered phoenixes shimmered on her sleeves.
Azuma froze.
("—ᴗ—) !?
FBI: ( ≖‿ ≖ ) ?
Azuma: ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
FBI: (҂ `з´) ︻╦̵̵̿╤──
FBI: ( ＾◡＾)っ✂╰⋃╯ - Confiscation of criminal evidence.
Azuma: (╥ ω ╥)
"Y-Y-YOUR HONOR, I HAVE BEEN WRONGED!!"