Morning.
Yukima Household.
9:30 AM.
Sunlight spilled through the curtains in soft golden bands, warming the wooden floor with its gentle glow. Birds chirped outside, and the distant hum of the city waking up could be faintly heard.
But inside the bedroom—there was only stillness.
It was already well past the time Yukima Azuma usually began his day. Under normal circumstances, his body would've snapped awake before the sun even breached the skyline. He'd have laced up his sneakers and started his morning jog while the streets were still painted in dawn.
But today wasn't normal.
Perhaps it was the late-night shogi analysis.
Perhaps it was the lingering tension from his recent return to Itomori.
Or perhaps it was simply the fatigue that had quietly accumulated over time, waiting to pull him down like gravity.
Whatever the reason, Yukima Azuma was fast asleep, tangled in his blanket, his face buried against the pillow.
That was—until a voice called to him.
"Wake up… it's time."
The words were soft, almost musical, and utterly unfamiliar in this room. Somewhere between a whisper and a chime, the tone was gentle—but carried urgency.
Still half-lost in dreams, Yukima stirred.
He blinked slowly.
The light hurt his eyes at first, but as his vision adjusted, he saw something—or rather, someone—hovering above him.
A girl.
No, not just any girl.
Sora Ginko.
Her pale silver hair shimmered in the sunlight like strands of moonlight. Her cheeks were dusted pink—embarrassment? warmth?—and her long lashes fluttered nervously. She wore a crisp black-and-white maid outfit, complete with a frilly apron, soft ruffles, and lace-trimmed sleeves.
Kneeling beside the bed, her hand had reached out to nudge him awake.
It was like something out of a dream.
Yukima Azuma blinked again.
"…Ginko-senpai?"
Her name slipped from his lips before he could filter the disbelief in his voice.
The moment he spoke, Ginko's eyes widened—and her blush deepened several shades.
"Y-you're finally awake… that's… good. Now hurry and get up already."
Her words were quick, but her gaze darted everywhere except his face. She tried to retreat, lifting herself from the bed.
Too slow.
Before she could pull away, Yukima's hand shot out from beneath the covers and gently grasped her wrist.
"Eh—?!"
With a surprised squeak, she lost her balance and tumbled forward—straight into his arms.
In an instant, the soft rustle of fabric met the rustling of blankets.
And now—Sora Ginko lay partially atop him, her face only inches from his.
Their eyes met.
Her body froze—tense like a cornered animal. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her entire form curled instinctively, as though trying to disappear inside his embrace.
She looked like a startled white rabbit caught in a field of spring flowers.
Azuma's eyes, still heavy with faux drowsiness, squinted playfully.
"Senpai… in a maid outfit…"
He drew in a slow breath.
"So cute… I must still be dreaming…"
And then—without hesitation—he kissed her cheek.
Muah~.
A single sound. A single second.
But for Sora Ginko, time stopped.
Her entire body trembled. Her thoughts dissolved. The warmth of his lips on her skin spread through her like a current.
She melted.
She actually melted—her strength gone, her thoughts scrambled, her fingers clutching the bedsheet just to stay grounded.
And then—
BANG!
The door slammed open.
"Oba-san! What's taking so long?! We're gonna be late!"
A familiar voice filled the room.
Hinatsuru Ai peeked in, her signature ahoge strand poking in first like a herald of chaos.
And then she saw it.
Ginko, on top of Azuma. Azuma's arms wrapped around her. Neither of them even fully out of bed.
Her big eyes widened like saucers.
There were no missing clothes, but the intimacy of the scene was enough to scandalize any onlooker—especially a ten-year-old.
But Ai didn't scream.
Instead, she launched herself through the door like a missile and shut it firmly behind her.
"Ai wants hugs too!"
She sprinted forward and dove onto the bed, wedging herself expertly between the two flustered adults.
Her tiny arms wrapped tightly around Azuma's waist.
"Sharing is caring!"
That sudden impact pulled Ginko violently back into reality.
"AZUMA!!"
Her voice cracked with embarrassment.
She struggled free, face burning red, and began shaking his shoulders like a rag doll.
"This isn't a dream! Wake up already!"
Realizing he'd been caught, Yukima Azuma finally dropped the act.
He released Ginko from his embrace and blinked innocently.
"Eh? Ginko-senpai? Why are you here?"
Like hell you forgot!
Ginko leapt off the bed and dashed toward the door, tugging Ai along with her by the collar of her dress.
With a bang, the door slammed shut again.
Only after a few seconds did her voice float back in from the hallway:
"Today's the Ryuou Match! Get dressed already, you idiot! You're gonna be late!"
Yukima Azuma sat up and yawned, stretching both arms toward the ceiling.
Only now did he remember.
Ah… that's right. Today's the first match of the Ryuou title tournament.
He had been so occupied with Itomori's affairs that it nearly slipped his mind.
Still, he wasn't worried.
Even if he dropped the first match, his victory over the series was all but guaranteed.
But now that the girls had come to drag him out of bed, there was no excuse.
Moments Later
Dressed in his formal shogi attire—dark hakama pants and a crisp haori—Yukima stepped into the hallway.
Ginko was waiting.
Her face was still faintly red, but her composure had returned.
"Come here."
She took a step forward and began fixing his collar and belt without waiting for permission.
Her fingers moved with calm precision, tugging, straightening, folding.
"There."
Then—without letting go—she took his hand.
"Let's go."
Hinatsuru Ai, watching the scene from nearby, gasped in wonder.
"Awawa~! They're holding hands!"
Her cheeks puffed with jealousy.
But as they passed her by, Azuma extended his other hand and took hers as well.
"Let's all go together."
With that, the three of them stepped into the morning light and called a taxi to the Tokyo Shogi Association.
In the Taxi
The drive was short but tense.
Sora Ginko finally realized she was still holding Azuma's hand—and quickly tried to let go.
But Azuma didn't loosen his grip.
Their fingers stayed entwined.
She bit her lip but said nothing.
"Senpai, that maid outfit really was straight out of a dream," Azuma teased. "But… why were you wearing it to wake me up?"
She flinched.
Her fingers tightened subconsciously.
"…It's because I lost a bet with Master…!"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but even her ears turned red.
Azuma chuckled softly.
So that's it. Shakando Rina again, huh…?
He made a mental note to buy a gift and thank Ginko's "Master" in person.
Shakando Rina—nicknamed the Eternal Queen—had long held the title of Jouryuu Myouseki, dominating women's shogi for over two decades. Though she had never attained full professional status due to the barriers against women in shogi, she remained one of the most revered female players in Japan.
She was also Ginko's personal mentor—and by now, a strong ally in Azuma's courtship, whether she admitted it or not.
Thanks to her whimsical bets and subtle pushes, Azuma had just experienced one of the cutest mornings of his life.
As for Ai…
She sat next to them, staring at her phone.
"Why are there no maid outfits in kid sizes?!"
After scrolling through three online shops and failing to find a suitable one, she finally gave up in frustration.
Tokyo Shogi Association
At 9:55 AM, the taxi arrived at the association's front gate.
As expected, a crowd of reporters had gathered.
The moment Yukima Azuma stepped out, they surged forward like a tidal wave.
Cameras flashed.
Questions flew.
Thankfully, association staff moved swiftly to shield him and guide him toward the tournament hall.
"Yukima 7-dan, please follow this way."
He nodded, adjusting his collar as he walked briskly down the hall.
Ginko and Ai remained behind.
Both girls glanced at the clock—and finally exhaled in unison.
"We made it…" Ai muttered, puffing her cheeks.
Ginko crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.
"Rather than worrying about Azuma, you should focus on yourself."
Ai blinked up at her.
"Eh?"
"Once he wins the Ryuou title," Ginko said quietly, "you'll officially become his disciple."
"And as his disciple… if you don't become a pro within three years, you'll drag down his name."
Ai's face went pale.
I never thought of that…
Her lips trembled. Her fists clenched.
She loved shogi. She adored Yukima Azuma.
But had she really taken her training seriously enough?
"Ai… won't bring shame to Shishou."
Her voice was small, but sincere.
No matter what, I have to grow stronger.
For the first time, Hinatsuru Ai understood what it meant to carry someone's legacy.
And Ginko, watching her silently, nodded once.