Chapter 11

It could be said that most of the time, Yagyu Hiroshi felt that socializing was really unnecessary, but he was, after all, an obedient son. He sighed and put on the formal suit that his mother had prepared earlier. The bow tie around his neck looked a little awkward. He opened the drawer and took out another gray tie. As he was tying the tie in front of the mirror, his younger sister tugged at his clothes and said she wanted to go to Disneyland to see the Christmas fireworks. He patted the little girl's head, smiled and said he would definitely go, and then turned around and opened the door.

However, Yagyu doesn't attend these kinds of events often. At least among his peers from similar backgrounds, he rarely shows up. His younger sister, who is in elementary school, is still young and usually stays at home with his grandparents. After all, how many people in this world are like Atobe Keigo, who seems to be at ease in any situation and can even make people forget that he is the invited guest?

Standing in the corner, Yuushi Oshitari glanced at Kyoya Ootori and Minami Katakura, who were surrounded by several elders. He yawned and turned his head, only to meet Yagyu's gaze. Yagyu also seemed lost in thought and out of place, so Yuushi politely greeted him.

"Didn't you bring any books this time, Yagyu-kun?" Oshitari asked first.

After patting his pockets twice, Liu Sheng replied, "It might not be appropriate to start slacking off now."

"With the main characters around, it's appropriate for us to do whatever we want." Shinobu pushed up his glasses.

"That's true." Yagyu looked up and followed Oshitari's gaze to the group of people not far away. Then he took out a paperback-sized book from his pocket, a convenient size to carry around. His phone screen lit up twice; he had received a reply to the "Merry Christmas Eve" message he sent an hour ago.

It's okay to say a few more compliments; I won't blush. Please don't hesitate to express your gratitude.

The familiar tone made him shake his head, but he did indeed really like the gift.

Before the holidays started last month, I saw on a forum that Agatha Christie's short story collection would be reprinted and released on December 22nd. Although I personally prefer domestic mystery novels and am not very interested in them, Yagyu has always been a loyal follower of Agatha Christie. In addition, I was still thinking about the trench coat he gave me at the Umihara Festival, so I pre-ordered a set on Amazon. Ideally, it would arrive at the Yokohama sales point on the same day, and then it should be delivered to my door before Christmas Eve. I decided to take a gamble and consider it a Christmas present.

After lunch, I noticed a new email on my phone. I was leaning against the sofa cushions, feeling drowsy. The fireplace in the living room had warmed the whole house. The snow outside had just stopped. Tezuka was sitting on the rug under the Christmas tree, playing chess with Dean. Bass stood behind his son with his hands behind his back, his expression as if he couldn't help but want to remind him.

I rolled over and sat up, then opened the chat interface.

Okada, you can be really touching sometimes.

Sure enough, he knew it was from me without me even having to guess. I mentally simulated several ways of saying it using Yagyu's voice. I thought it would sound awkward if he actually said thank you, but his way of saying it made me feel, without exaggeration, a tiny bit of a sense of accomplishment.

Seeing me laugh a few times, Tezuka turned to look at me. At the same time, he had easily won Dean's King again. I put down the cushion I was holding, walked over and sat cross-legged next to Dean. I patted the little boy's shoulder and said with a smile, "How about I play a round?"

Dean nodded and made room for me. Bass seemed to be looking forward to my performance, but Tezuka on the other side was quietly sighing. I set up all the pieces. Since it was White's turn to move first, I turned the board around. Tezuka gave me a helpless look. I didn't say anything, just shrugged and gave him a wink. He definitely couldn't do anything to me, so I picked up the pawn first.

As for why Tezuka sighed, the reason is simple: it was because I taught him to play Go. To be precise, when we were kids, I dragged him, who didn't know how to play Go, to play Go with me, someone who didn't know how to play.

It must have been at the beginning of summer vacation when I was in second grade. I went to borrow the DVD of "La Traviata" for my grandma. When I put it in the DVD player, I found that it was a different movie. I was thinking of running back to exchange it, but my grandma came over with a plate of snacks and drinks and told me that I didn't need to go. She said that it was also one of her favorite movies.

At that time, Tezuka was sitting quietly by the coffee table without saying a word, while his master was downstairs drinking and chatting with his father. Knowing the old man as we do, we knew he would talk for a very long time.

I don’t remember what the movie was about at all. The whole scene was dark and the narrative pace was slow. I only remember that the knight and the Grim Reaper in the black cloak played a game of chess face to face. The stake was “death”. When the next day came, the knight who lost the game was finally dragged into the circle.[1] I noticed that Tezuka stared at the TV screen and took a deep breath, as if he was immersed in the plot, as if he were the wanderer in the film.

But I'm only interested in the games they play. I seem to have an innate curiosity about competitions that can be played one-on-one, such as judo, or chess. Strictly speaking, exams might also count. In any case, I'm responsible for the outcome.

Because my elementary school only had a shogi club, I bought a beginner's chess book. At first, my grandmother played chess with me. She often played chess with her brother when she was a teenager, but she wasn't very clear-headed. Sometimes, after I had just made a move, my grandmother would look up and ask me, "Hello, excuse me, where is this place?"

She is, after all, the youngest daughter of a prominent family in Kyoto, and she even uses honorifics when speaking to me, a mere child.

Just a month after the holiday, my master took me to Tokyo. During the day, I practiced judo at the dojo, and at night I would take out a Go board and play with Tezuka. He was different when he was a child; he couldn't refuse people and always let me win. If I won, it was fine, but if I lost, I would make him continue playing with me until I won.

To my shame, I was indeed quite stubborn and unreasonable back then.

"Aha," I put down my queen and pointed to the chessboard to Dean, "look, I've won a game for you."

"Want to play another game?" Tezuka rarely took the initiative to suggest another round.

"Great!" I straightened up and clapped my hands twice. "I couldn't be happier!"

As it turned out, Christmas Eve was spent playing chess with the two of us. When I saw Bass carrying his sleeping son upstairs, I yawned, stretched my arms, and lay down on the carpet. Looking out of the high window, the sky outside looked very clear, and the golden stars on the top of the Christmas tree were surrounded by a warm yellow light. At first glance, I thought I saw the Milky Way.

Tezuka, who had been sitting, also tilted his head back and looked out the window, just like me. I turned my head and looked at him for a moment, then we both looked away. I can't remember the last time we lay side by side like this, how old were we?

"Guoguang, have you ever been scared?" I asked suddenly, my hands behind my head. "Coming here alone for surgery, going to school alone, playing sports alone—it must be pretty tough, right?"

He shifted his position, lying slightly on his side and showing me the back of his head, and replied, "It will be tough, and I'll be scared."

His unexpected candor prompted me to shift closer to him and ask, "So, you're just going to endure it like this?"

"Sanae, do you remember the seventh seal?" Tezuka didn't answer, but instead asked me.

"How could I not remember?" I chuckled twice.

"I watched that movie again before I left the country," he said. "On the plane, I had a dream that I was playing chess with my grandfather. I was Brock, and I knew I would lose the game."

He spoke with an unwavering calm, seemingly without any emotional fluctuation. Even so, I reached out to pat him on the back, but then quickly withdrew my hand. Just then, he turned around, and I instinctively stepped back, almost rolling off the carpet and landing on the floor. Tezuka, without his glasses, had a slightly unfocused gaze; I couldn't tell where he was looking. I think he genuinely couldn't see clearly. He blinked, frowned slightly, and leaned forward, trying to make out my face—almost touching my nose to his. I don't deny that his eyes are very beautiful, but I couldn't possibly stare at them from that distance.

"Actually, I didn't finish the game in my dream; I just left," Tezuka continued, "just like now."

I couldn't resist in the end. I gently brushed aside his stray hairs, slowly leaned closer, and pressed my forehead against his. I stroked the back of his head and gently rubbed it to comfort him. He froze for a moment, then quickly relaxed. I couldn't think of anything to say in response. After all, it was a huge step forward for him to say "I'm scared." It was also a long-lost reminder that Tezuka wasn't different from other people his age. We were all just sixteen.

With his left hand, he carefully touched the hair that was sticking up at the back of my head. Tezuka looked up and saw only my closed eyes. He slowly lowered his gaze, passing over the tip of my nose and stopping at my lips. He looked away for a brief moment as I rolled over and lay flat again.

The living room was unusually quiet at night. The only sounds I could hear were the crackling of the firewood in the fireplace and his shallow breathing. We were often silent when we were together. He was indeed a man of few words, only talking more when something interested him. But I liked people who weren't too talkative; silence was just fine.

"Thank you." It took me a while to hear him say that.

"You said thank you again," I shook my head and smiled, "but I can accept it, and I'd be happy to have more."

As soon as he finished speaking, I heard a sigh, and I knew he was relieved.

The living room clock struck, and I counted down to the twelfth chime.

"Merry Christmas."

"Yes, Merry Christmas."

I never brought up the topic again. The problems between Tezuka and his master, grandfather and grandson, couldn't be solved by me asking if he was scared. At least when he touched the racket, he was much faster than when I stood on the judo mat. Perhaps people always have to find something worth dedicating their lives to. I just haven't found it yet, while Tezuka already has a very clear plan and has come this far.

He also asked me what I thought, and my answers were all similar. My mentor does expect me to do what I want, but not to be the only one. Even if I don't become a criminal police officer, I will still have options. However, I haven't found any other options yet.

To be honest, I do feel uneasy sometimes. How should I describe this? Is it the anxiety of growing up?

Note:

1. Refers to *The Seventh Seal* (1957), a film by Bergman.