Special Training: Stamina
I lifted my head and looked at my opponent.
His forehead was soaked with sweat. In the man's clenched fist, in the pupils fixed on the board, I could read a desperate resolve that refused to lose no matter what.
But between Shin Changmo's instincts and Director Kim Yoonseul, my mentor Lee Jiah's teacher, stretched a gulf that would not easily be bridged.
It was a minuscule difference, yet the game had already been decided. A few moves remained to close it out, but both I and the man across from me knew perfectly well that I would never falter.
Before long, the man's hand — which had been drifting aimlessly over the board — let the stone in its grip slip feebly from his fingers.
"You… what are you?"
With bewildered eyes, Director Kim Yoonseul asked me.
"Thank you for the game."
Feeling no need to answer his question, I gave a light bow of my head in courtesy and rose from my seat.
"…Wait. Seoa, was it? Your teacher here owes you an apology. Please, accept it."
Director Kim Yoonseul suddenly dropped his tone and caught hold of me.
"…No, it is I who should apologize for my rudeness. Now that we've cleared the air between us, as promised, I'll be taking charge of Jiah unnie."
"Yes, yes! Of course. A deal's a deal, after all. And as a token of my apology, might I ask one small favor? It's a good offer for you, too."
His sudden about-face. I did not get a good feeling about it.
"A favor?"
"Someone with your talent is bound to go far. Do you belong to an academy?"
"No. Not yet."
"Ah, perfect timing, then. Would you consider simply registering with ours? You wouldn't have to attend — and if you ever felt like coming, you'd always be welcome. With that skill, you're aiming for the pros, aren't you? Your play is beyond reproach, but going it alone will be hard… preparing for tournaments, and so on."
Director Kim Yoonseul was trying to sweet-talk me into his orbit. It was a long pitch I gave up listening to somewhere around the middle, but the gist boiled down to one thing: would I lend him the use of my name?
Having lost even with a two-stone handicap, he seemed to have felt less resentment over our game than excitement at glimpsing a commercial opportunity.
No hunger for victory. No pride in his own Go.
Could this really be called a professional?
I didn't think his life's orientation was wrong. It was simply different from mine.
But shouldn't a man who fought his way to a professional title, however arduously, carry at least a baseline of self-respect or sense of mission?
To this man, Go was worth no more than a means of making money. A tool, nothing more.
I wasn't angry.
Only saddened.
All the more so because I knew, bitterly and intimately, that professionals who treated Go so lightly were hardly limited to Director Kim Yoonseul sitting in front of me.
"That is very generous of you, but I must decline. I wish your business every prosperity. Now then, let's go, Jiah unnie—"
Perhaps Lee Jiah, too, had never been anything more than a tool to him, in place of the disciple he doted on. Cutting off Director Kim Yoonseul mid-sentence, I took Jiah's hand.
"Huh? Oh — yes! Thank you for everything, Saboem-nim! I'll be in touch!"
Before the director could get another word out, Jiah seized my hand roughly and bolted out of the academy.
"Haaah…"
Rushing down the stairs left me breathless.
As I steadied my ragged breathing and coolly replayed the whole sequence of events leading up to our flight, self-reproach settled over me — I had stuck my nose far too deep into matters that weren't mine.
What was done could not be undone, so I would rightly have to take responsibility — and I was prepared to. Yet all of this had unfolded without any say from the person most concerned: Lee Jiah herself.
"I'm sorry. Meddling for no reason, and now it's come to this…"
"It's fine! Honestly, it feels refreshing! Besides, you said you'd take responsibility, didn't you, Seoa?"
"I did. Still… if you suddenly quit the academy, I worry your parents might be upset, or worry about you…"
"Eh, I'll just take a scolding. Surely they wouldn't throw their beloved daughter out of the house over it… hehe."
Jiah waved her hand dismissively, but in her shadowed eyes I could read worry and unease.
"…I'm sorry."
For now, bowing my head deep was the best I could do.
"Hm? Look how late it's gotten."
An alarm chimed from Jiah's phone. The display read five o'clock in the afternoon.
She seemed to have somewhere to be.
"I'm… really sorry about today. Call me anytime, and I'll…"
"Hey, Seoa. Want to come along with me?"
Cutting off my farewell, Jiah asked.
"I'm sorry — where, exactly?"
"After failing the pro qualification exam over and over, it hit me that maybe it wasn't a skill problem, it was a stamina problem… so I started going to the gym last year! I skip it a lot, but as it happens I'm free today, so I was thinking of going for the first time in ages!"
Jiah rolled up her sleeve and flexed at me. So that was the story behind how much better her figure looked than most girls her age.
"You want me at a gym?"
Stamina matters enormously in Go. That's why quite a few pros I'd known played tennis or soccer to stay sharp. But weight training was a whole new idea.
"Come on! You're unbelievably strong, Seoa, but you seem even frailer than most kids your age! You lost to Park Pilgyu 9-dan partly because of stamina, remember? If you've got time, come try it out with me — just as a trial!"
"…Alright."
It wasn't yet so late that Grandfather would start worrying. Somehow, I found myself nodding along.
With no idea what manner of hell awaited me.
"Hello, Director!"
"Jiah! Long time no see. And the kid next to you… a foreign cousin of yours?"
Inside a gym thrumming with upbeat music, a muscle-bound man who appeared to be the owner greeted Jiah warmly.
"Nope! She's a friend of mine. As of today, she's my Go teacher, too."
"…Go teacher?"
The man asked back, looking puzzled.
"Ryu Seoa — she's all the Go world talks about these days! Search her name and articles will come pouring out."
"Let's see, let's see. Ryu Seoa, huh…"
The man fished out an early-model smartphone — practically an antique in this day and age — and searched.
"Defeats Japan's divine prodigy Hozumi Asana! Plays Park Pilgyu 9-dan to a standstill… The Go world's most anticipated beauty! A Go fairy straight out of a fairy tale… The 'national little sister of Go' candidate who set the hearts of Go players ablaze!"
"Ah… p-please don't read them out loud!"
I pleaded, forcibly covering the man's phone screen as he recited the mortifying headlines.
"Jiah, you've brought me a brand-new celebrity member. I love it. As a special treat, I'll throw in five free PT sessions for the new member!"
The bald director thrust his thumb skyward, his gleaming scalp and teeth shining as he flashed a refreshing grin.
"Wow! Thank you! She's a truly precious little sister of mine, so please take good care of her from day one!"
"Alright then, new member Ryu Seoa? You can fill out your personal information later when you've got time! Since it's your first day, shall we start off easy with a fitness test?"
"I-I never said I was registering—"
"Don't worry! Just do what you can. We're only checking your basic fitness, so I won't force anything on you. Go change first."
Entirely without my consent, I was marched off by the bald director, a change of clothes and a towel pressed into my hands, and shoved toward the locker room.
The women's changing room.
It was empty for now, but Jiah would be coming straight in, so I hastily changed and slipped out to the lockers.
I had no wish to become the kind of shameless adult who peeked at a young girl in her underwear — least of all when the girl was me.
"My, that was quick, member. Let's start off easy with some push-ups. You've done them at school, right?"
I had no memory of doing them in this body. I was never built for exercise to begin with, so the last time I'd attempted anything of the sort was probably the army physical fitness test, back when I was Shin Changmo.
"Hnnnnngh — ugh, nngh…"
Just one. That was all I asked of myself. With that thought, I bent my arms and lowered myself — but my stick-thin arms couldn't even support my light little frame, and I collapsed in a heap.
Zero.
I knew my body was weak, but as a human being, this was humiliating.
"There, there. Plenty of women can't do even one, you know! Let's try with your knees on the floor, shall we?"
The director offered his consolation, but my shattered pride was beyond repair.
"…Okay."
On my knees, it should be easy. With that thought, I took my stance.
"Hnnnngh — mph — hup."
Not even a single one. I kissed the floor.
"It's fine! Good effort!"
With a wry smile, the director gazed at me with the eyes of a man beholding some pitiable creature.
"How about some squats next? Since it's your first time, your form doesn't have to be perfect. I'll demonstrate, so just copy me as closely as you can."
Squats. I knew what they were. Whether I had any confidence in performing them with this cursed body was another matter entirely.
"Hnngh! Nngh! Hup!"
About five in, I was gasping for breath and my legs were trembling. I was pathetic by my own estimation — but how did I look through a third party's eyes?
"Well done, member. Shall we call the test finished here?"
For some reason, the director's eyes blazed with a ferocious heat as he looked at me.
"I-I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to apologize for, Ryu Seoa. I take it you don't much care for playing outside?"
Well, of course. Thanks to the gulf between my mental and physical age, I had no close friends to speak of, and I wasn't deranged enough to go run around a playground by myself, either.
So I'd spent most of my time sitting quietly with a book — shoddy physical fitness was the natural consequence.
"Yeah… I guess…"
"I'll make you healthy, so just follow me! And be sure to write down your parents' phone number later! I'll fight your parents tooth and nail if I have to — I will make something of you!"
The director bellowed with fervor, scooping up a pink dumbbell that was astonishingly adorable for a man of his bulk. His enraged muscles rippled and bulged. Escaping was probably a lost cause already.
"Go get 'em, Seoa!"
Jiah, a towel draped around her neck and already hanging from the pull-up bar, flashed me an insufferably cheerful grin.