Chapter 33: Winning Streak

“Meow.”

I wiggle my fingers in front of the kitten.

With my father spending much of his time alone at home after taking leave from work, my mother brought in a Siamese kitten.

Why is this tiny creature so adorable?

“Oh…”

The kitten, quite sociable, rubs against my touch.

But soon, losing interest, it toddles away from me.

“Seoa, were you playing with Aine?”

My mother asks, stroking my hair.

Aine is the kitten’s name, from the Celtic goddess of love and summer, she says.

“Yes. It’s so cute!”

“I think our Seoa is cuter.”

“Ugh…”

My mother hugs me, rubbing her cheek against mine.

My sexual orientation is still toward women, so these moments of contact are always awkward.

“Come on, let’s eat, our ‘National Master.’”

My mother calls me by the title of National Master.

The Women’s National Conference ended just last week.

From the quarterfinals to the best-of-three finals, I won every match by resignation.

Knowledge this era hasn’t seen and experience amassed over a pro career. A half-baked women’s pro, in a way.

A victory won under unfair conditions.

Not a legitimate achievement, so despite the tournament’s prestige, it’s not something to be proud of.

After a brief rest, the Janggo Cup streak matches resume today.

If the last Korean player loses, I’ll face the world’s top women players.

It’ll be a stage to prove I’m ready for bigger challenges.

The final warm-up.

If I’m prepared to bear greater weight, I must throw myself onto a larger stage without delay.

Failing to take bold challenges leads only to stagnation.

“Nya…”

But there’s no match scheduled today, and my participation in the streak matches isn’t even confirmed.

What if Hyena Lee, the women’s Kiseong, sweeps the tournament with a perfect record?

I scoop up the tiny kitten, cutely tapping my foot while meowing, and hug it tightly.

With barely enough time to study my opponents’ game records, a brief moment of indulgence should be fine.

I head to the living room, rolling around on the bed with the adorable kitten before eating.

*

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan, holder of two of Japan’s three major women’s titles—Women’s Kiseong and Women’s Judan. A seasoned 34-year-old veteran and the pride of Japanese women’s Go, recently regaining her form.

She defeated China’s formidable Lin Feng 9-dan, who had a five-win streak, and Korea’s wildcard Hyena Lee 6-dan, securing two consecutive wins.

A strong start to the second round of the streak matches. Two Japanese and three Chinese players remain. If the momentum holds, it could be an even fight.

The third day’s opponent is Korea’s last player. Seoa Ryu 2-dan.

A monstrous rookie who won the Women’s National Conference title in her latest tournament and claimed the Huaihe Cup in her first pro and world women’s event.

A Welsh-Korean who outshines even Asana Hozumi, once hailed as a generational genius.

Her skill and appearance make her a bigger topic than Japan’s Go institute or Asana Hozumi herself—a tragedy for both.

In Japan, Seoa Ryu has more fans than Asana Hozumi, let alone in Korea or China.

The second round, third match, takes place in a conference room at a new luxury hotel in Seoul.

Korean reporters, still holding onto hope, are fiercely competing for coverage.

A little girl with a kitten, accompanied by her parents.

Like a character from a fairy tale, utterly lovable.

It’s easy to let your guard down around her appearance, but Seoa Ryu is like a meteor crashing into women’s Go.

She’s crushed every opponent caught in her wake.

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan. Japan’s strongest women’s player.

If even she gets swept up in the meteor’s explosion, no Japanese women’s player could stand against Seoa Ryu.

One hour each. Three 40-second byoyomi periods. A semi-rapid match.

With experience and skill, there’s a chance.

She reviews her opening strategy one last time, steels herself, and the girl sits across from her.

“Please take care of me.”

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan waves, greeting the girl in clumsy Korean.

The girl responds in Korean.

Though she doesn’t understand, the girl’s bright smile warms her heart.

Nodding, she grabs a handful of white stones.

Seoa Ryu places one black stone to indicate odd.

Fourteen white stones. Even.

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan takes black.

‘Black always wins.’

Currently on a 20-win streak with black, Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan.

It feels good.

The match begins.

Black stones, darker and appearing smaller, are made slightly larger than white stones.

Perhaps because of this, the texture feels subtly different.

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan prefers the feel of black stones.

Holding black puts her at ease.

The opening flows along familiar standard lines.

Like many women pros, Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan has an aggressive style.

A skirmish breaks out on the top side.

With her signature sharp attacks, she targets Seoa Ryu 2-dan’s weak spots.

A local victory, overwhelmingly in her favor.

But it leaves a bad aftertaste.

She cut deeply but didn’t land a fatal blow.

She presses her momentum forward.

Seoa Ryu 2-dan doesn’t counter aggressively, pulling back her lines instead.

The deeper she pushes, the more it feels like sinking into a quagmire.

Her ferocious charge into enemy territory has long since stalled.

She tries to regroup, but it’s too late to retreat.

Battle lines form on multiple fronts.

Judging the position is difficult.

Conflicting priorities. It’s hard to decide clearly where and how much to reinforce.

Seoa Ryu’s counterattack.

She targets only the vulnerabilities Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan couldn’t shore up.

But her approach is passive rather than aggressive.

Taking slightly less profit than possible, then retreating.

Yet, Seoa Ryu’s lines don’t collapse. Her attacks maintain their destructive power.

Showing no openings, there’s no chance to regain the initiative.

Systematic and thorough.

Seoa Ryu 2-dan boldly abandons unnecessary fronts, reinforcing key points with precision and advancing.

Knowing a head-on clash means certain defeat, Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan has no choice but to engage.

She instinctively senses the girl’s seasoned strength—she can’t win without aggressive moves.

A few clumsy slashes.

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan’s black stones are pathetically repelled.

Completely disarmed, the only virtue left for the loser is to concede gracefully.

Natsuyo Fujisawa 9-dan throws in her stones.