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Post by Shichiro on Jan 18, 2016 5:52:39 GMT
He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, because he was standing on a cliff overlooking a blasted landscape under a lightning torn, dark-lit sky. The land below him spread out in a vaguely familiar pattern of light and dark squares, the divisions between them nothing more than cracked, uneven fissures in the ground. At the side of the squared field nearest the cliffs on which he stood, Shichiro could see the roiling mass of a large, armored force. An army of knights, soldiers, mounted troops all armored in bright ivory. Across from them at the far end of the fields a matching army, this one clad in midnight black. Further in the distance he could see a great cliff mirroring his own behind the ranks of the black army, a single vague figure standing atop it as Shichi himself was. He looked down at the two opposing armies again, suddenly understanding what he was looking at.
Command us, came the request to his senses. So command them he did. "Pawn to King's four."
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Shichiro startled awake in a flailing mass of limbs and twisted bedcovers, rolling off and onto the floor of his bedroom with a groan and a thud. Not necessarily in that order. Disentangling himself from his sheets, Shichi staggered to his feet and wiped at his eyes blearily. He slapped at the screeching alarm on his bedside table until it stopped making that horrible noise at him, yawned and turned to sort his blankets and sheets back onto the bed. Grabbing one corner, he lifted it with a tug and gasped as something fairly large, heavy and white dropped out of them and rolled away towards his desk. It looked like- no. What?
It looked like a large, ivory-colored egg circled with gold accents. An egg the size of a soccer ball. What the f-
"Shichiro! You will be late to school!"
He whipped around to look at the clock again and groaned. He was late. Better skip breakfast. He could always grab an egg later. Hah. Without really thinking about why, Shichi scooped the egg up until his backpack and slid a few books and notebooks in around it; reaching back into his bedsheets he grabbed his phone and tossed it into another pocket without really looking. School things taken care of, he dashed out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom to get ready. Ten minutes later he was dressed in his uniform and out the door, backpack slung over his shoulder with its odd, added weight and a bagel clutched in his mouth. Dad would never let him skip breakfast completely. He ate on the run; he had to hurry to catch the bus that would take him to school. He'd be late for sure if he had to come back and bike all the way.
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Post by Shichiro on Jan 19, 2016 7:15:55 GMT
Shichiro was late. Of course he was late; he missed the bus and had to run all the way back for his bike. A great deal of furious pedaling, a few shortcuts and a couple close scrapes with traffic and he was locking his bike up and walking into the building. Of course, the bell had to go off the minute he stepped inside, leaving Shichi to slink into class, ears burning as attention diverted to the latecomer. He muttered an apology to Mrs. Yamakawa and took his seat, hunching his shoulders and doing his best to ignore the gazes directed his way. The novelty of his interruption faded quickly, and the school day passed for Shichiro in a sleepy, unfocused haze. His mind turned back to the egg in his backpack often; he checked on it multiple times throughout the day but it simply continued being an egg, its only remarkable quality its size.
Sadly, he had little time to devote to this particular mystery. Schoolwork kept him busy, and once it let out it was time for fencing practice. After practice he was due to report back to Mrs. Yamakawa's classroom. Tardiness required disciplinary action, she had reminded him with a gentle, tolerant smile. He could serve his this afternoon, during 'chess club.' The name itself was a bit of a misnomer; the 'club' consisted of just Shichiro, with Mrs. Yamakawa acting as his faculty adviser and giving him someone to play against now and then. So after fencing he stowed his gear and padded back down the now-quiet halls of high school and made his way to serve his 'punishment.'
"Good afternoon Shichiro," Mrs. Yamakawa greeted him as he walked in. "I'm afraid this might be something of a punishment after all. I've had an emergency meeting call me away, so I won't be able to play against you today. Why don't you work on today's homework for a while before you leave, and we'll call it even?"
"Yes ma'am," Shichi agreed with her, nodding. "Thank you for being so nice. I promise I won't be late again." Mrs. Yamakawa offered him a knowing smile. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Inoue. Now, don't stay too late. I don't want you riding your bike home after dark." He assured her he wouldn't, and Mrs. Yamakawa slung a bag of papers and books over her shoulder, smiled at him again and left for her meeting. Sighing, Shichiro walked to a bookcase in the back of the room and removed a cardboard box from one of the shelves. He took a seat and opened the flimsy box, pulling a beaten-up chess board and a number of battered pieces from it. He began to set them up, starting with the white pieces. As he did so, laying out the rooks, the bishops, knights, pawns, queen and king Shichiro was reminded of his dream from last night. It was a hazy, ephemeral thing that seemed to slip further away the more he grasped at it. So he left it be, and began the setting-up process again with the black side. Rooks, bishops, knights, pawns, queen... frowning, he lifted the black king from the box and turned it around in its fingers. A hairline crack ran from the top almost down to the base, leaving the two halves slightly askew of each other. Figures. Kids in this school could never take care of-
He was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, because he was back on the cracked, broken checkerboard valley surrounded by high cliffs. Around him lay the bodies and forms of countless pieces sacrificed for strategy or fallen to the enemy's own. At his side was a single white pawn, battered but whole. Looming over them both was the form of the black king, separated from its ranks and cornered. There was but a single defender left. "King's six to Queen's seven," he announced, his voice producing an odd echo in this land. The pawn slid into action, raising a spear and stabbing at the heart of the black rook in their way. It fell to the ground in a scattering avalanche of broken stone, and the battle was won.
"Checkmate." Lightning broke the dark, roiling sky. The king staggered as if struck by a physical blow as thunder echoed through the valley and a familiar hairline cracked raced from his crown nearly to his base. Falling forward, the king dropped to its knees in acknowledgment and supplication. In humility, the black-bladed sword fell from its grasp to lay at Shichiro's feet. One trembling hand reached out, slid his fingers around the hilt...
Shichiro gasped as something drew him from the powerful memory, startling and knocking his nearly-completed chess board askew, shifting pieces off-kilter and knocking several down. The black king he'd been holding has slipped from his fingers at some point; looking around, Shichi found it had bounced and rolled nearly to the still-open classroom door...
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Post by Takahiro Evans on Jan 19, 2016 17:56:16 GMT
A somewhat younger boy picks it up, adjusting the black plastic frames of his glasses as he studies it, "People never take care of things properly..." He seems to mostly be talking to himself as he says this, before blinking and looking around. Oh! An older boy. He doesn't recognize him, but he's clearly the senior here.
He walks across the room and bows to show respect as he hold out the piece for the older boy to take, "Sorry, I think you, uh. I...this rolled out to the door," Why are you apologizing? Weirdo.
His new Digivice was in his other hand, clutched by his side. Probably a cellphone, right? Well, school is over. Truth is, he'd been experimenting. He can detect Digimon by pointing the Digivice at them, just like his original one. But...unless he accesses the DATS network, he still can't search for them himself. Considering how many people that were partnered with Digimon were his age, more or less, it'd be easier to track them down at school rather than in the open streets where they could get away. No luck yet, though. Maybe he hasn't found the right setting yet.
"I, uh. I didn't know...I didn't think anyone else played chess, at this school,"
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Post by Shichiro on Jan 19, 2016 20:02:51 GMT
The interruption caught Shichiro off-guard. The memory of his dream had come on so suddenly it left him a little shaken and disoriented. He looked up to find a short, slender boy from one of the grades below his standing in the doorway, holding the fallen king. Shichiro blinked, his mind trying to catch up and completely missing the boy's words. He stepped into the classroom, bowing to Shichi and offering him the banged-up chess piece. Shichi hesitantly reached out and accepted the piece, offering a short bow in return after a brief, mildly awkward pause. The boy was familiar. He must have seen him around the school. It had nothing to do with his slight resemblance to- no. He didn't want to do that. Not today.
"Thank you," he murmured, setting the king on his desk and automatically reaching out to straighten the other pieces he'd knocked over. It was a little easier to talk to him focused on such a familiar task. Plus, his hair settled down over his shoulders and hid his face a little when he hunched like this. "I guess I was surprised by that crack," he explained weakly. "Nobody else does play chess here, I guess. I don't know how it got broken, Mrs. Yamakawa and I are the only people that touch the set."
"Oh, um. Yeah. Welcome to chess club. I'm Shichiro... the entire chess club."
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Post by Takahiro Evans on Jan 19, 2016 20:18:38 GMT
Takahiro bows slightly, again, “Takahiro Evans, it's nice to meet you, Shichiro-Sama. The, uh. The...The entire club? That's a shame. I never, uh. There's never anyone for me to play with either. I got a new set recently, but...nobody else, uh. My family don't play chess, really,”
He doesn't seem nervous so much as he's just stumbling over words. Like he's not entirely thinking over what he's saying until a few seconds after he's already said it. Poor kid. Socially awkward kind. He frowns a little. How had he never noticed there was a chess club before?
“If I'd know there was a chess club, I'd...uh. I'd've come along before now. I don't get a chance to play unless...unless it's online or something,” He's not exactly a grandmaster, but he can hold his own pretty well. Although he wasn't foolish enough to say that it helped plan strategies with Petermon, at least it kept him on his toes, having to think of alternate plans of attack and defense.
...Okay, maybe it helped a little.
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Post by Shichiro on Jan 19, 2016 22:19:59 GMT
"Yeah," he said, smiling a little. "My older sister will humor me with a game sometimes, but these days I mostly play with Mrs. Yamakawa." He continued rearranging the pieces he'd knocked off the board, now and then glancing up at Takahiro curiously. Hesitantly. He just couldn't shake that feeling of familiarity. "Good to meet you too, Takahiro. I try and get other kids to join the club every now and then, but some of the other kids always seem to tear down the posters right away." He voiced the treatment matter-of-factly; Shichi seemed to have just accepted this was the way things went in school. He was used to it.
He'd finished setting the board to rights while he was talking; no longer having an excuse to hide, he looked up at the younger boy and gestured to a nearby seat. The board was set after all; why not ask for a game instead of playing himself. Not that it would be the first time.
"Would... would you want to play?" He asked Takahiro somewhat tentatively. "It's a beat up set, probably not as nice as your new one but it works."
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Post by Takahiro Evans on Jan 19, 2016 22:28:24 GMT
“Well, I mean,” He holds his Digivice up to look at it, keeping the screen tilted away from Shichiro, as though simply checking something on his phone. Petermon is giving him a look from the screen, and then points at the edge of the device closest to Shichiro, “Oh. Um. Maybe...um. If you're not too busy that is, you could come to my house and we could use my set. I...”
Petermon continues to stare at him. He's clearly not about to take 'No' for an answer here, Takahiro. It's just someone you're inviting over for a game of chess. You're not proposing marriage.
“I imagine you...need to get home or something, though. Sorry, I didn't think,” GLARING INTENSIFIES, “but, um. If...maybe if you can't today, maybe...soon?” He tries, “I have to be home soon, is all. I'm, um. Meant to keep an eye on my brother while he isn't well,”
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Post by Shichiro on Jan 19, 2016 23:22:50 GMT
'Deer in the headlights' is not an appropriate response to making a new friend. "Come to your house and play? Um. Yeah, that sounds pretty cool. Will it be okay with your parents?" He started reversing the process he'd just completed, placing worn chess pieces back in their box and folding the board to go on top. He closed the box and stood up, walking back to the rear of the class to place it on its shelf. Once he'd cleaned up after himself, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, handling it gently for the sake of the egg still contained inside.
"You're watching your brother, huh? I have a little brother too. Kiyoshi's nine. I get stuck with him sometimes too, but he's pretty easy to get along with I guess. Kinda follows me around a bit. I'm trying to teach him to play chess, but." He shrugged. "He's nine. I have to grab my bike before we go, it's locked in the bike stand by the front entrance. Where do you live?"
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Post by Takahiro Evans on Jan 19, 2016 23:31:35 GMT
“Mm. Mom and dad are working late this week. Uh. But they'd, they'd definitely be fine with it, as long as I, well, uh. They wouldn't mind as long as there's no mess or anything,” He nods, slowly, tucking his Digivice away after getting a nod of satisfaction from Petermon. Petermom more like.
“Oh, uh. Scout's, um. Scout's older than me. But he's, uh,” What's the cover? Oh. “He's dealing with, um. Depression. So...I just have to stick around the house in case he needs me,” Poor kid. Plus it's kinda true. “Uh, over near the forest, in the apartments. I'll follow you to your bike,” He does so, planning to lead the boy back to his, afterwards. It isn't that far to walk, fortunately.
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