The dumplings were dropped into the pot.
Normally, for the best flavor, it's ideal to use a proper soup base. But Yukima Azuma had stayed over at the Sawamura house last night—he hadn't had time to prepare anything elaborate. This time, he had to make do.
Even so, when the plump, glossy dumplings were served, laid out steaming in front of the two girls, the aroma alone was enough to make their mouths water.
"Please enjoy. This is my masterpiece~." Yukima Azuma looked quite proud.
Kasumigaoka Utaha glanced at him, then scooped one up with a spoon. She blew on it lightly before biting in.
Still hot, the soup inside burst onto her tongue. The fresh, sweet umami exploded across her taste buds.
She had assumed this so-called "masterpiece" was just flattery. But now—maybe he meant it.
She found herself thinking, If I could eat like this every morning, I might never get tired of it.
Then a more unsettling thought: What if I can't have it anymore one day?
But she quickly pushed that aside.
For now, she simply closed her eyes slightly and savored the warmth and joy brought by the person across the table.
"Have you ever made this for someone else?" she asked.
"Never," Yukima Azuma answered simply.
He wasn't lying. His culinary skills had only developed within the past year. Dumplings were his favorite, so he'd practiced them the most. But no girl had visited in the mornings before.
So yes—this truly was the first time he'd made dumplings for someone else.
Hearing his answer, Kasumigaoka Utaha smiled slightly and took another bite.
It tasted even better than before.
But nothing perfect stays perfect.
"This is amazing! So good! This is the best thing I've ever eaten!"
"Shishou, you're a genius! Shishou! I want to learn how to make this too!"
Hinatsuru Ai's small mouth chirped nonstop as she scarfed down another dumpling, her eyes sparkling brighter than the morning sun.
Kasumigaoka Utaha sighed. She should have kicked this girl out.
She should've waited until breakfast was over before letting her in.
After breakfast…
Yukima Azuma led Hinatsuru Ai to the room with the shogi board.
The little girl knelt naturally on the cushion, her posture perfectly formal.
Yukima Azuma retrieved the box containing a special shogi set—a gift from Tsukimitsu, the Association President. Unlike standard sets, this one was carved from rare greenwood. Each piece bore hand-etched characters from a master artisan.
It wasn't just valuable—it was collectible. A limited-edition set from the Japan Shogi Association.
Ai picked up the rook and turned it in her hand. She immediately noticed the difference in weight and polish.
Kasumigaoka Utaha also stepped closer. She didn't know shogi—but she knew Yukima Azuma. Watching his face, she could guess this little girl wasn't ordinary.
Yukima Azuma sat across from Ai and began setting up the board.
But he didn't place all the pieces.
When the difference in strength is great, players impose a handicap to level the game. A 3-piece handicap was considered significant—but still a serious match.
He removed his rook, bishop, and lance on the left file—standard for a 3-piece handicap (三枚落ち, san-mai-ochi). This wasn't meant as mockery. It was a genuine way to test Ai's potential.
Hinatsuru Ai, however, frowned.
She had wanted a fair match, not a handicap.
"Ai," Yukima Azuma said sternly, "In shogi, your focus should be on the board. Ignore everything else."
His voice startled her into clarity.
She calmed herself, took a deep breath, and nodded.
With that, the game began.
Ai opened with the Static Rook (居飛車) strategy—specifically the Vertical Rook setup Yukima Azuma had used in his televised match against Kajin Yamato.
Her opening was solid but unrefined. She hadn't had formal training. Everything she knew came from books and watching her idol—Yukima Azuma.
Yukima Azuma responded calmly. Despite the handicap, he played precisely.
By move 30, he had nearly balanced the board.
By move 40, Ai was on the defensive.
By move 60, the game had entered the endgame (shūban). Ai's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, desperately scanning the board.
Then, she saw it.
"This… this is it!" she cried, pushing a Silver General forward to launch a desperate attack on Azuma's king.
It was bold—and nearly reversed the situation.
But not quite.
"…I lost."
Ai's voice cracked as she bowed her head in defeat. The game ended on the 111th move.
Holding her own this long, against a player of Azuma's caliber—even with a handicap—was nothing short of remarkable.
Yukima Azuma turned to Kasumigaoka Utaha, and she understood immediately.
There was no way to deny it—this girl was gifted.
"But there are a lot of talented kids out there," Utaha muttered. "You going to adopt all of them?"
Yukima Azuma sighed. "Ai, want to play another?"
"Umu! I can do it!"
She wiped her eyes, determination undimmed.
"This one might hurt. Can you handle that?"
"I'm fine, sensei!"
Azuma patted her head gently. "Let's fight."
They reset the board.
No handicap this time.
Just before Ai made her first move, she froze.
An invisible wave of pressure rolled across the board—so strong, it seemed physical. Ai's breathing hitched. Her hands trembled.
This… was presence. The kind that professional players rarely revealed.
Every time she moved, a piece from Azuma's side would immediately respond with a decisive clack—as if he'd predicted her thought process entirely.
There was no visible timer. But Ai was forced to think faster and faster, pressured by the psychological tempo Azuma set.
This tactic, known among pros, wasn't about skill—it was psychological warfare. Used rarely, and only when testing true spirit.
Ai's shoulders shook. Tears welled again. But she didn't surrender.
Her ocean-blue eyes shimmered with a faint, steely purple.
She fought to the 130th move.
And then, the moment she said, "I resign," Azuma immediately withdrew his pressure and leapt across the board to catch her.
"You okay?"
"I… I can still play…"
"You've done more than enough. Rest for now. We'll talk about becoming my disciple later."
"…So I passed?"
"Mm. You passed."
He carried her to the couch in the living room and let her rest.
Outside the room, Azuma glanced at Kasumigaoka Utaha again.
Her expression was unreadable.
A child not only with talent—but with a heart that refused to yield.
"Teach her well, if you're going to take her," Utaha finally said.
She turned and left.
Azuma smiled faintly.
Even senpai's a bit of a tsundere, huh?
He brought a glass of iced water to Ai's side.
From the two matches they played, Azuma's shogi experience bar had slightly ticked upward.
Not much—but far more than solo training.
Because true improvement comes not just from practice—but from facing genius, again and again.
And Hinatsuru Ai, by all standards, was a genius.
This wasn't just a little loli.
This was an EXP package.
Two hours later…
Ai had recovered.
The first thing she did was sit up and face Yukima Azuma seriously.
He patted her head. "Scared you earlier, didn't I? Sorry."
"No! It's fine, Shishou! I'm completely okay!"
"Alright then, let's talk business."
"You have great potential and a strong heart. That's enough for me. But…"
Ai glanced away sheepishly.
"You didn't ask your parents before coming, did you?"
"…Mom didn't agree, so I…"
"So you ran off. Thought so."
Her ahoge drooped guiltily.
"Well, even if I'm willing, I can't take you in without their consent."
Ai looked ready to object, but Azuma raised a hand.
"Respecting your family comes first. We'll go back together, and you'll apologize sincerely."
"If they agree, I'll officially take you as my disciple."
Ai's ahoge perked up instantly.
"But not yet. If we go now, they'll definitely refuse. So let's wait."
"…Wait?"
"Until I win the Ryuou title. Once I'm the Ryuou, they'll have no reason to object."
"Then I'll ask again—and officially accept you."
"Deal?"
Ai nodded rapidly.
"Then let's pinky swear!"
"Sure. Pinky swear."
"Now what?" she asked.
"We go home. Obviously."
"Umu!"
And so, Yukima Azuma, carrying Ai's oversized bunny bag in one hand and holding her hand with the other, set off for Ishikawa Prefecture.
But before that, he made one stop—a shogi dojo in Chiba, where his own master, Kiyotaki Kousuke, resided.
Ai could begin learning here even before becoming his official disciple.
Azuma, of course, would also learn—how to become a proper teacher.
After all, no matter how strong he was, even he had once been a student.
And if this was truly the start of a master-disciple journey…
Then both teacher and student still had plenty to learn.