Chapter 6
The Invisible Wall

Facing Takeshi, the woman in the blue kimono orchestrated her defence with choreographic precision. Her fluid movements contrasted with the mounting tension that inhabited the champion, as if time and fatigue had no hold on her. The board between them had become an arena where two philosophies of the game clashed—one forged by years of competition, the other seeming to emanate from an older, more mysterious knowledge.

Takeshi's assaults, devastating though they were, came up against a resistance whose nature escaped him. Every piece captured, every position conquered seemed to be part of a larger design that he could not grasp. The ōgiban before him was gradually turning into a labyrinth of possibilities in which his champion's certainties dissolved one by one.

The pounding in his temples intensified, marking the rhythm of a game that was dragging on far beyond the reasonable. His shirt, faintly damp with sweat, clung to his back, the sole physical witness to the mental effort he was exerting. The air in the carriage seemed to have thickened, as if the atmosphere itself were taking part in this silent joust.

The silver halo outlined his opponent's silhouette, lending her an almost unreal presence. In this chiaroscuro, her face kept that unreadable expression which, more than her moves on the board, unsettled the champion. An imperceptible smile hovered on her lips, as if she held a secret that turned this confrontation into a mere prelude to something deeper.