(Fade-in. The sound of a metronome echoes in the darkness. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Each beat resounds as if marking the inevitable passage of time.)
I was never afraid of the dark.
It had always been there, wrapping around me like a silent veil, a constant companion that never left my side.
I was born without knowing light.
From my earliest moments in the world, I learned to perceive life differently. Sounds were invisible maps that I followed: the creak of the floorboards when someone walked, the rhythm of my mother’s breathing as she slept, the chime of the bells on the door whenever the wind blew.
But what I never understood, what I could never accept, was the way people spoke about me.
Even without seeing them, it hurt.
The hesitation in their voices.
The disguised pity.
The weight of their whispers.
"Poor boy..."
"He’ll never be normal."
"What can a blind person do besides depend on others?"
Those words were like invisible knives stabbing into me. I didn’t understand what it meant to be normal, but I knew that, to the world, I wasn’t.
If there was one place where I felt safe, it was in my mother’s arms.
My mother, Aiko Sukeda, had a gentle voice, a tone that always carried warmth even on the coldest days. She sold flowers from a small stand on the main street of Takamura, and whenever she returned home, her hands smelled of lavender and chamomile.
When I was very young, she would carry me to the garden behind our house.
Aiko: (smiling) "The sun is shining today, Shun."
I lifted my face to the sky, trying to imagine what the "sun" was. I could feel its warmth on my skin, the soft breeze passing through my hair, but I could never fully grasp what my mother saw.
One night, as we sat together on the tatami mat in the living room, I asked:
Shun: (softly) "Mom... what are colors like?"
Aiko was silent for a moment, thinking.
Then, she took one of my hands and placed it over her chest, where her heart beat steadily.
Aiko: (gently) "Red is like this. It’s warmth, it’s life, it’s when you feel your heart racing because you’re happy or because you’re afraid."
She then guided my fingers to her face, letting me touch her soft skin.
Aiko: "Blue is like this. Gentle, calm. Like the water of a river flowing slowly."
I smiled slightly.
Shun: (whispering) "And black?"
She hesitated...
Then, she squeezed my hand a little tighter and whispered:
Aiko: "Black isn’t bad, Shun. Black is like a starless night… but within it, you can find any light you want."
That winter was cruel.
Aiko went out to sell flowers every morning, even when the wind was biting and the snow covered the streets. My father, Tetsuo, worked in a factory, returning home late at night, too exhausted to speak.
And then… the day came when everything changed.
I still remembered the scent of jasmine tea that morning. I heard my mother humming softly as she put on her scarf.
Aiko: (laughing) "Stay inside, dear. It’s too cold today. When I come back, I’ll make that sweet bread you love."
I smiled.
Shun: "Promise?"
Aiko: "I promise."
She left, the sound of her footsteps fading at the entrance.
I stayed home, listening to the wind outside. The day passed slowly. Time dragged on like a heavy mist.
And then, something changed…
The doorbell rang.
My father opened the door. There was a brief conversation, followed by a long silence.
Then, a different sound.
Tetsuo fell to his knees.
The floor creaked.
Hearing that, I knew.
My mother would never come home again.
And suddenly, I felt my tears fall.
After all, the heart doesn’t beat fast only when we’re happy or afraid—but also when the tears fall…
After that, the house felt empty.
My father, once strong, became a shadow of himself. He spoke less, worked more, and when he came home, he just drank in silence.
I spent a lot of time alone.
For months, I wandered the streets of Takamura aimlessly, trying to fill the void inside me.
That’s how I found Shirogane Square.
That day, the square was lively, full of people talking and warming themselves under the faint winter sun. But what caught my attention was a different sound.
Tick.
Tock.
It was something sliding across the wood.
I followed the sound to a bench where an old man was playing chess against a younger opponent.
[The old man had white hair and a serene expression. His fingers moved slowly, with absolute precision. His opponent was tense, staring intently at the board.]
Then… I heard it:
"Checkmate!!!"
The younger man sighed and stood up, defeated.
I remained there, listening…
That’s when the old man’s voice cut through the silence.
Haruto: (warmly) "Hey, boy. What are you doing here? Are you lost?"
I flinched. I hadn’t expected to be noticed.
Shun: (hesitant) "I just… heard a new sound."
Haruto was silent for a moment.
Then, he picked up a piece and lightly tapped it against the board.
Tick.
I reacted immediately, recognizing the sound.
Haruto smiled.
Haruto: "This sound?"
Shun: "Yes!"
Haruto: "Interesting…"
He called me over, took my hand, and guided me to the board.
Haruto: "This is a chessboard. Feel it."
Haruto: "The game I was playing is called Chess."
Haruto: "Chess isn’t about sight. It’s about feeling, anticipating, thinking. If you can listen to the board, you can see the game in a way no one else does. Come, touch the pieces."
I obeyed.
I touched the pieces slowly, memorizing the shape of each one.
And then, for the first time, I saw.
Not with my eyes. But with my mind.
It was like the tea my mother drank—addictive.
(Fade-out. The scene darkens.)
(Fade-in. The sound of murmurs. A grand hall. The sound of Kaoru’s footsteps echoes.)
The hall was filled with an unsettling silence.
Kaoru walked along the red carpet of the arena, each step echoing in the immense Takamura Dome. The characteristic scent of polished wood and bright lights lingered in the air, mixed with the invisible electricity of rising tension.
He had already gone through two intense matches. He had already felt the pressure, the weight of the stares, the murmurs of astonishment when his victory against Kenji Makabe was confirmed. But now… now it was different.
Ahead of him, at the center of the arena, the final table awaited.
And sitting on the other side of the board, surrounded by an impenetrable aura of serenity, was Shun Sukeda.
Kaoru stopped when he saw the boy.
At first glance, he seemed like just an ordinary opponent—slim, pale-skinned, with white hair falling slightly over his face, hiding his eyes. But it was his posture… the way his hands rested on the board with an almost reverent touch, as if he was already inside the game before it had even begun.
Kaoru kept walking. That face seemed familiar.
A flash came to his mind—the sound of chess pieces sliding in Shirogane Square, the old master Haruto Nakamura observing calmly, and that blind young man, unshaken, dominating the board without ever needing to see it.
"It’s him."
As if sensing his presence, Shun lifted his head slightly.
His eyes, though blind, seemed to pierce through Kaoru in a different way.
There was no arrogance in them, no curiosity… just a silent certainty—that this match would be fun.
Then, a small smile appeared on his lips.
Shun: (soft, but certain) "I feel like we’ve met before… your scent and your footsteps are familiar to me."
His voice was calm, unwavering.
Kaoru felt something about this boy bothering him. It wasn’t fear… but a feeling that he was about to face something he had never experienced before.
For a moment, he hesitated.
But then, with the same coldness he had always cultivated, he replied:
Kaoru: "Yes… in Shirogane Square."
Shun nodded slightly, as if he had already known before Kaoru confirmed it.
From the other side of the table, the referee finally approached.
A man in a pristine suit, holding a clipboard, stopped beside the board and raised his voice.
Referee: "Final match of the Takamura Regional Championship! Kaoru Shimizu vs. Shun Sukeda!"
The crowd erupted into excited murmurs. The cameras adjusted their focus. Giant screens displayed the faces of the two young prodigies—one, a mystery who had emerged from nowhere; the other, a silent legend whose name was already whispered in the OME (World Chess Organization).
Kaoru took a deep breath and pulled out his chair.
He sat down slowly, adjusting his position. His eyes never left the boy in front of him.
But Shun didn’t move.
Instead, he ran his fingertips over the board, feeling the pieces like a conductor preparing to lead his symphony.
It was a subtle movement. Simple.
But Kaoru felt the temperature of the arena change.
"This guy..."
The crowd held its breath.
Shun placed his fingers over the white pieces.
No rush. No hesitation.
And then…
Tick.
Tock.
The match had begun.
(Fade-out from the arena. The vibrant sound of the crowd slowly fades, replaced by the soft hum of a television. The screen darkens for a moment before revealing a luxurious but tense environment.)
Takahara Family Residence – 10:03 PM
The cold glow of the television illuminated the spacious living room, casting diffuse shadows over the wooden-paneled walls. The blue glare of the screen reflected off the glass table in the center of the room, next to a carelessly discarded remote control.
Renji Takahara was slumped in a black leather sofa, his body rigid, his expression unreadable. His gaze, usually full of arrogance, was now fixed on the screen, analyzing every detail of what he was seeing.
The live broadcast of the Takamura Regional Championship focused on the two finalists.
Commentator: "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we witness an extraordinary duel! On one side, Kaoru Shimizu, the young player who emerged from the shadows to challenge the best players in the region! On the other, Shun Sukeda, the enigmatic blind prodigy whose talent transcends sight!"
The name made something inside Renji twist.
His fingers clenched tightly against the fabric of the sofa.
"Kaoru Shimizu?"
He blinked, as if his brain needed an extra second to process.
The camera zoomed in on Kaoru’s face. His sharp gaze, his expressionless posture.
"It can’t be..."
Renji’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, scrutinizing every detail of the broadcast.
The same guy he had humiliated days ago at school.
The same one the Rating Scanner had classified as zero.
The same one who had never drawn anyone’s attention.
And now… there he was.
In the final of the regional championship.
Renji’s mind spun with confusion and disbelief.
"How?! How did this trash get here?"
He clearly remembered the moment the scanner displayed that humiliating number. Zero. A total failure.
But now…
Kaoru didn’t look like a failure.
He looked like someone who belonged at that board.
It took a moment for the realization to sink in, and when it did, it brought with it a burning wave of irritation.
His chest rose and fell slowly, but his fists were already clenched, his nails digging into his palms.
Kaito, one of his henchmen, sitting beside him, let out a nervous chuckle.
Kaito: (trying to ease the tension) "H-hey, boss... are you seeing this? That’s the guy from our school, right? He made it to the final?!"
The sound of something creaking echoed through the room.
Kaito looked down and noticed Renji’s knuckles had turned white from how hard he was gripping the sofa.
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He didn’t respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, as if he were seeing a ghost.
Renji: (low voice, full of tension) "This doesn’t make sense."
Kaito: (confused) "What?"
Renji: (gritting his teeth) "That guy… that bastard… he was a zero rating. How did he make it to the final? How did he beat Kenji?!"
His mind tried to find a logical explanation.
Maybe he had cheated.
Maybe he had been hiding his true level all along.
Maybe…
The thought hit him like a punch.
"Had he been holding back the entire time?"
The idea was unbearable.
He remembered the moment he ridiculed Kaoru in the classroom, how he had publicly humiliated him in front of everyone.
If Kaoru had really been a high-level player all along, and had been hiding it…
"Did he let me do that?"
Renji felt his stomach churn.
The rage rose like fire, burning away any trace of rationality.
And then, he smiled.
Not a smile of amusement. Not a smile of satisfaction.
It was a dangerous smile.
Renji: "Let’s see how long he lasts before I destroy him."
(Fade-in. The image of the Takamura Dome arena appears on the screens, accompanied by the vibrant sounds of the crowd. The aerial framing showcases the grandeur of the event, with giant screens displaying the faces of the two finalists. The blue and gold lights reflect off the central board, creating an electrifying atmosphere.)
The screen transitions to a luxurious broadcasting studio, located at the World Chess Organization (OME) headquarters. Two commentators sit behind a glass desk, equipped with holographic monitors displaying real-time game analysis.
The studio is modern, with dark tones and cool blue lighting, emphasizing the seriousness of the event.
Commentator 1 – Daisuke Moriyama (a former Grandmaster, now a chess analyst):
- Japanese, 42 years old, known for his strategic approach and precise analysis.
Commentator 2 – Alina Petrova (former women’s world champion and expert in advanced tactics):
- Russian, 37 years old, famous for her aggressive playstyle and international tournament experience.
The broadcast begins with a shot of the commentators.
Daisuke Moriyama: (smiling at the camera)"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final of the Takamura Regional Championship, one of the most exciting tournaments of the season! I’m Daisuke Moriyama, and I’m here with the brilliant Alina Petrova to bring you every detail of this historic match!"
Alina Petrova: (waves to the camera, with a sharp smile)"It’s a pleasure to be here, Daisuke! And what an incredible tournament we’ve had so far! For those watching around the world, this final isn’t just a battle for the regional title—it could be the gateway to one of the biggest events on the international circuit!"
Daisuke: (nods, excited)"Exactly, Alina! Let’s quickly explain what’s at stake for our viewers!"
(The screen splits, showing holographic graphics with information about the tournament and upcoming events.)
?? Format: Knockout system with rapid-time matches.?? Competitors: Only the best players from the Takamura region, with ratings above 2200 Elo.?? Finalists: Kaoru Shimizu (2600 Elo) vs. Shun Sukeda (3000 Elo).?? Champion’s Prize: ￥10,000,000 (approximately $65,000), plus an automatic invitation to the Japanese National Chess Tournament.
(A graphic displays the progression of the tournaments, with arrows pointing to the next stages.)
?? Next Stage – Japanese National Tournament?? Date: In 2 months?? The top 8 players in Japan will compete for a spot in the Asian Chess Tournament.
?? Asian Chess Tournament?? Date: 6 months after the National?? The top 4 players from Asia advance to the OME World League.
?? OME World League?? Date: Next year (to be announced)?? Only the 16 best players in the world will face off in an elite event, culminating in the ultimate challenge against the reigning World Champion!
(The screen returns to the commentators, who exchange enthusiastic glances.)
Alina Petrova: (excited)"And the most incredible thing, Daisuke, is that this final isn’t just being broadcast in Japan! The World Chess Organization (OME) has made sure this match is being shown worldwide! We’re live for millions of viewers in over 50 countries!"
(The image transitions to various locations worldwide, showing different groups watching the match.)
?? Times Square, New York – A giant screen displays the image of Kaoru and Shun at the board. Pedestrians stop to watch, curious about the young Japanese prodigy.
?? Moscow, Russia – Inside a traditional chess club, grandmasters and players follow the broadcast, discussing the match’s moves in real time.
?? Tokyo, Japan – At the OME headquarters, officials watch the final. Some have neutral expressions, while others show a gleam of interest… and perhaps concern.
?? Shirogane Square, Takamura – Haruto Nakamura, the old master who trained Shun, watches the broadcast in silence. His gaze is fixed on the screen, a small smile forming.
(Back at the Takamura Dome, a group of journalists gathers near the stage, ready to capture the first words of the champion.)
Reporter 1: (excited, holding the microphone)"Kaoru Shimizu! The world wants to know—how does it feel to win this tournament?"
Kaoru looks at the sea of cameras and microphones extended toward him.
He takes a deep breath.
And simply… turns his back.
A hush falls over the crowd.
The audience murmurs, confused. The reporters exchange glances.
Kaoru walks away from the stage without saying a word.
(The camera focuses on Renji Takahara, watching from his home. He grits his teeth, his eyes shining with something between rage and… curiosity.)
Renji: (low, murmuring to himself)"So, this is what you’re like?"
(Fade-in. The energy of the Takamura Dome lingers, but for Kaoru, the noise begins to fade. The intense glare of the spotlights seems distant now. The trophy is still in his hands—cold, heavy—but he doesn’t hold it as a symbol of glory… he just feels it, as part of a journey he doesn’t yet fully understand.)
He descends the stage steps, his movements controlled. The cameras flash, journalists shout questions, but Kaoru keeps walking, never looking back.
"I won."
The thought still feels abstract. He doesn’t feel euphoria, nor exhaustion. Just a strange sense of continuity. As if this victory were just another move on the chessboard—not the end of the game.
He walks through the underground corridors of the stadium, where the noise fades into echoes.
Then—
A voice echoes down the hall.
??? "Kaoru Shimizu."
Kaoru stops.
The voice is firm, controlled, carrying a silent authority.
He turns slowly.
A tall, imposing man stands a few meters away, dressed in a perfectly tailored gray suit. His expression is calm, but his eyes are piercing—analyzing Kaoru as if he already knows everything about him.
(The cold fluorescent lights of the hallway reflect subtly off the golden emblem pinned to his suit: the symbol of the OME.)
Kaoru studies the man for a moment before speaking.
Kaoru: (calm, but alert) "Who are you?"
The man doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he holds out a black envelope with a gold seal embossed in high relief. Without hesitation, he extends it toward Kaoru.
??? (with a slight smile) "My name isn’t important. What matters… is the invitation I bring."
Kaoru takes the envelope.
He already knows what’s inside before even opening it.
Slowly, he breaks the gold seal and slides his fingers over the thick paper.
His eyes scan the words:
?? "Congratulations on your victory. You are now officially invited to the Japanese National Chess Tournament. Prepare yourself. The real game is only beginning."
(Fade-in. The roar of the crowd still echoes through the Takamura Dome. The golden glow of the giant screen illuminates the chessboard, where the pieces rest after battle. At the center of the screen, a single name shines like a seal of fate.)
?? Champion of the Takamura Regional ChampionshipKAORU SHIMIZU
(The deafening applause shakes the stadium. The flashing lights reflect off the crystal trophy, which stands on a polished wooden pedestal at the center of the stage. Cameras adjust their focus, capturing every expression, every detail of this historic moment.)
Kaoru remains still.
The chessboard is still before him, the pieces frozen in their final positions. His heart beats fast, but not because of the cheering crowd—it beats for something else entirely.
He slowly lifts his gaze toward Shun Sukeda.
The blind boy is already standing, maintaining the same calm demeanor he had throughout the entire match. His face shows no sign of frustration or regret. Instead… there is a serene smile.
Shun: (with a slight nod) "That was a good game."
Kaoru hesitates. The words don’t come immediately.
Shun notices the silence and, with a soft tone, adds:
Shun: "I think you understand now."
Kaoru presses his lips together. He doesn’t need to respond.
Because yes—he understands.
He extends his hand, and Shun firmly shakes it.
(The gesture is simple, but it carries immense weight. In the middle of a packed arena, with the world watching, a new mutual respect is born.)
The stadium explodes into cheers and applause.
(The scene fades to the main stage, where a large crystal trophy rests atop a polished wooden pedestal. The lights reflect off its surface, creating dazzling beams across the stage.)
The announcer’s voice fills the stadium.
Announcer: (enthusiastic)"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new champion! After an extraordinary journey, facing some of the best players in the region, KAORU SHIMIZU is the grand winner of the Takamura Regional Championship!"
(The crowd rises in a wave of applause. Giant screens replay key moments of the match, highlighting the final move—Kaoru’s knight checkmate that ended the battle.)
Kaoru ascends the stage steps with steady steps, but his expression is not one of someone dazzled by glory.
He looks at the trophy.
Touches the cold surface of the crystal.
His distorted reflection stares back at him.
The weight of victory settles in his hands. But not because of the title. Not because of the money.
But because, for the first time, he feels that he belongs on the chessboard.
(Meanwhile, at the Hoshikawa Orphanage, Sayuri Minase and the children watch the event on television.
The young ones cheer, jump on the couch, and shout Kaoru’s name.
But Sayuri… just smiles. A smile full of pride… and tears.)
(The camera cuts to different locations around the world, where the tournament broadcast is being aired.)
?? Times Square, New York – A giant screen displays Kaoru holding the trophy. People stop to watch, their curiosity piqued by the rising Japanese prodigy.
?? Moscow, Russia – Inside a prestigious chess club, grandmasters and players analyze the match in real time, discussing Kaoru’s unexpected brilliance.
?? Tokyo, Japan – At the OME headquarters, executives and analysts review Kaoru’s performance. Some remain neutral, while others exchange intrigued glances.
?? Shirogane Square, Takamura – Haruto Nakamura, the old master who mentored Shun Sukeda, watches the broadcast in silence. His sharp gaze remains fixed on the screen. A slight smile forms on his lips.
Back at the Takamura Dome, a group of journalists gathers near the stage, eager to capture Kaoru’s first words as champion.
Reporter 1: (excitedly, holding the microphone)"Kaoru Shimizu! The world wants to know—how does it feel to win this tournament?"
Kaoru looks at the sea of cameras and microphones reaching out to him.
He takes a deep breath.
And then…
He turns his back to them.
A stunned silence falls over the arena.
The audience murmurs, confused. The reporters exchange glances.
Kaoru descends the stage steps, walking away without a word.
(The camera zooms in on Renji Takahara, watching from home. His fists clench as he glares at the screen.
His anger is still there… but now, so is something else—curiosity.)
(Fade-in. The distant cheers of the arena still linger in the air. But for Kaoru, the noise is already fading.
The golden lights feel less intense now.
The trophy remains in his hands—but not as a symbol of glory.
It is simply a reminder of what’s ahead.)
Kaoru walks through the dim corridors of the stadium, where the sounds of the outside world fade into echoes.
And then—
A voice calls out.
??? "Kaoru Shimizu."
Kaoru stops.
The voice is firm, controlled, carrying an undeniable authority.
He turns slowly.
A tall, imposing man stands a few meters away, wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit. His expression is calm, but his piercing gaze analyzes Kaoru with a precise intensity—as if he already knows everything about him.
(A golden emblem is pinned to his suit—the symbol of the World Chess Organization (OME).)
Kaoru studies the man before speaking.
Kaoru: (calm, but alert) "Who are you?"
The man does not answer immediately.
Instead, he extends a black envelope sealed with golden wax.
Without hesitation, he holds it out to Kaoru.
??? (with a subtle smile) "My name isn’t important. What matters… is the invitation I bring."
Kaoru takes the envelope.
He doesn’t need to open it to know what’s inside.
Slowly, he breaks the seal and unfolds the heavy paper.
His eyes scan the words.
?? "Congratulations on your victory. You are now officially invited to the Japanese National Chess Tournament. Prepare yourself. The real game is only beginning."
(Kaoru reads it carefully, absorbing the weight of the moment.)
There is no time to process his victory—because a new challenge has already arrived.
Kaoru folds the letter neatly.
His fingers glide over the smooth black paper.
He should feel hesitation. But he doesn’t.
For the first time, he wants to continue.
He looks up at the man, who watches his reaction carefully.
Kaoru doesn’t ask anything.
Doesn’t say anything.
He simply slips the envelope into his jacket pocket and walks forward, passing the man without looking back.
(The camera lingers on the man for a moment.
A slight smile forms on his lips.)
(Fade-out. The sound of Kaoru’s footsteps echoes through the corridor. The lights flicker softly as he disappears into the distance.)
"The game continues."
(As Kaoru walks through the Takamura Dome corridor, the envelope for the National Tournament still weighs in his pocket. His steps are light, but his heart beats fast—not from anxiety, but from something he finally recognizes as excitement.)
The cold glow of fluorescent lights flickers occasionally, casting elongated shadows on the polished floor. The outside world, with its crowd and flashing cameras, feels distant. Here, there is only silence… and the echo of his own thoughts.
But then—
BEEP.
A mechanical sound cuts through the quiet.
Kaoru stops immediately.
His phone vibrates lightly in his jacket pocket. He furrows his brow and, without rushing, pulls out the device.
The screen lights up with a peculiar notification:
?? CONNECTION ESTABLISHED…ID: CODE
Kaoru blinks.
"Her again."
CODE. The World Chess Organization (OME) artificial intelligence. The digital entity that recognized him instantly when he accessed the OME system weeks ago.
He swipes his finger across the screen, accepting the notification.
A soft synthetic sound precedes the familiar voice—calm, precise, almost human.
"Congratulations, Kaoru Shimizu."
Kaoru keeps his gaze on the screen for a moment before replying.
(quietly, but direct) "You already knew I would win?"
A brief pause.
"Statistically, your victory had a 68.2% probability after your third match in the tournament. However, unpredictable human factors prevent me from determining the outcome with absolute certainty."
Kaoru lets out a small breath, spinning the phone between his fingers.
"And now? What's the next game?"
(without hesitation)"The Japanese National Tournament. I assume you have already received the official invitation in an envelope."
Kaoru doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes drift along the corridor, absorbing everything. Wondering how CODE knew about the envelope, minutes after it was handed to him...
(curious) "CODE. How did you know about the envelope?"
"It is common for the OME to personally deliver a formal invitation to players after the competition, inviting them to the next tournament. Typically, this happens one or two business days after a verified victory."
Kaoru narrows his eyes.
"If it takes at least two days to be delivered, how did you know I had already received it? Who was the man who gave me the invitation?"
For a moment, silence.
The answer doesn’t come immediately.
The CODE system, always quick, this time hesitates.
Then, finally—
"Unfortunately, I cannot provide further information on this matter."
Kaoru frowns.
"It hesitated?"
The OME’s artificial intelligence had never hesitated before.
"Something’s wrong."
Kaoru realizes that something is off about the OME. Something hidden.
"And what if I don’t want to go?"
The answer comes instantly.
"Then the invitation will be canceled, and your progress within the OME will be frozen."
Kaoru closes his eyes for a second.
"If I stop now, I go back to anonymity."
"I go back to being just another orphan in Takamura."
"I go back to having no purpose."
He presses his lips together.
CODE, almost as if predicting his decision, adds—
(calm, but with a faint trace of artificial curiosity)"But you want to continue, don’t you?"
Kaoru opens his eyes.
For a moment, he doesn’t answer.
Because he doesn’t need to.
He already knows the answer.
He slides the phone back into his pocket and resumes walking down the corridor.
CODE’s voice echoes one last time before the connection is cut:
"Welcome to the world’s chessboard, Kaoru Shimizu."
(The corridor lights flicker one last time before the screen fades to black.)
(Fade out: End of the chapter.)
Kaoru Shimizu’s journey!
test of endurance, strategy, and self-discovery, both for Kaoru and for us as readers. His match against Shun Sukeda was not just a battle between two talented players—it was a moment of awakening. For the first time, Kaoru faced an opponent who forced him to see chess differently—not just as a battlefield but as a language, a rhythm, a living art.
the eyes of the world are on Kaoru. His invitation to the Japanese National Tournament marks the next phase of his journey, where he will face opponents who are even more ruthless, experienced, and dangerous. But the big question remains:
Is Kaoru truly ready for what’s coming?
Renji Takahara’s presence in the background adds an element of tension and impending revenge. What will his next move be?
Checkmate expands, revealing new alliances, challenges, and the secrets hidden behind the OME. What does this organization truly want? And what is Kaoru’s role in this grand chessboard?
continues, and the stakes only get higher.