The library was quiet except for soft whispers turned pages and the faraway murmurs of students indulging in their own worlds. Ren sat isolated in a corner table; this old chess book wowed upon him. Ye old pages had yellowed by time, each edge worn after years of use. He was not actively reading-his eyes merely skimmed the words only, while his mind was elsewhere.
A faded black-and-white photograph engraved on the page attracted him.
A man on the other side of a chessboard sat; dignified in his demeanor with a concealed expression. Hands lightly rested on the table, unmoving like time had slightly paused.
A single line of text below, striking in its simplicity.
"I'll be damned to the Silent King –Akihiko Moriyama."
His fingertip traced the words.
Akihiko Moriyama. The grandmaster who never seemed to speak more than necessary and the player whose very presence nearly unsettled his opponents-not because he was aggressive but because he was still. Wall, they say, for gossamer opponents they played, walls, too would be against him-no matter how they attacked, he dismantled their plans without a flicker of emotion.
Ren closed his eyes, recalling the very first time he saw Akihiko play.
He was still young at that time, just starting to learn the game. The Asian International Grandmaster Match was live, and Ren had glued the screen on one famous attacking player—one built for quick, unrelenting pressure-pitting himself against Akihiko.
For most of that match, it indeed seemed like Akihiko did nothing.
He sat, fingers lightly poised on the edge of the board. Now and then, he shuffled a piece, denying any emotion in his expression. His opponent, on the other hand, was a storm-fast, unpredictable, suffocating.
And with a soundless move, it fell.
One shift - precise, so fine, gut-wrenching in effect.
Ren could still recall remembering that frozen look on Akihiko's opponent's face that exact instant when it dawned on him, that checkmate.
The players in the hall had gasped and applauded, but Akihiko? Nodding, extending a handshake, he wended his way off the stage without a word.
So did Ren make his own decision, however.
He did not want it to end in flair; he did not want it to go to ridiculous gambits, wanting like Akihiko-calmed, unreadable, definite.
Ren released a breath, leaning back in his chair.
Kenji's words from their last match echoed in his head.
"You rely too much on structure. But structure breaks."
He clenched his teeth with the knowledge that Kenji had hit the nail on the head this time, but all this would not matter anymore starting tomorrow.
Tomorrow would launch the sport-chess competition.
Tomorrow will be the stage for the game-not for the polish, not for fame, but for total winning.
Just like the Silent King.