Rewrite Our Love? Too Late

Shinomiya Kaguya stood frozen in place, the soft night wind stirring the ends of her raven hair.

She had just bowed deeply in gratitude, her voice restrained but sincere.

"Yukima-onii-san… thank you for saving me once again."

The man in question, Yukima Azuma, simply raised his hand and—without a word—placed it gently on her head.

Kaguya's breath caught.

The sensation was… utterly foreign.

In her meticulously controlled world of prestige and propriety, no one had ever patted her head before. Not her father. Not her butlers. Not even the caretakers hired during her childhood.

The Shinomiya household had no room for affection—only rules, performance metrics, and discipline.

So to Kaguya, such an act was either a condescending gesture… or a calculated display of power. And yet…

This was neither.

Azuma's touch was warm, soft, almost brotherly. It wasn't meant to belittle.

It wasn't asking for anything.

It simply was.

"What is this feeling?"

"Why does it make me feel… safe?"

Azuma smiled gently.

"Shinomiya-san, you've had a hard time. You should go home early."

There was no sarcasm in his tone, no pity. Just a quiet acknowledgment of how burdensome it must be to live as the daughter of the Shinomiya empire.

Azuma glanced away for a second.

Would his own daughter—if he had one someday—also face the same kind of suffocating expectations?

He decided not to dwell on it.

Children have their own fates.

Worrying too far ahead only creates ghosts that don't exist yet.

He withdrew his hand from her head, absently rubbing his fingertips.

Kaguya's hair had the texture of the finest silk—dangerously addictive to touch. For a split second, Azuma found it difficult to let go.

With a small nod, he turned and began to walk away, his coat fluttering softly in the breeze.

Behind him, Kaguya remained motionless, staring at his fading figure, her mind suddenly spinning with questions.

"Strange…"

"Why is this strange?"

Oh right.

Because this man had saved her twice—and still asked for nothing in return.

No power. No favors. No money.

If it had been anyone else, they would've made demands by now. After all, saving a Shinomiya heir was no small feat.

"There's no way he doesn't want anything," she thought, eyes narrowing slightly.

"It defies logic."

And Kaguya, especially the version of herself known as Ice Kaguya, hated things that didn't make sense.

Ice Kaguya was pragmatic to the core. She assigned value to everyone she met. If you didn't hold utility, you were ignored. If you did, you were used—for the benefit of the family.

So now, faced with someone who acted without demanding compensation—even from her, who objectively possessed immense worth—

She couldn't help but ask.

"Yukima Azuma," she called out, her voice cutting through the silence, "do you truly have nothing you desire?"

Azuma paused.

He turned back, his expression unreadable.

"…Just take care of yourself," he said simply. "The things I want… I'll obtain on my own."

His tone hardened slightly, deliberate.

"And, Kaguya-san… those things, you wouldn't be able to give me."

The way he said her name—Kaguya, not Shinomiya—was subtle, but purposeful.

He had stripped away the family name. A quiet rejection of her identity as an aristocrat.

But Kaguya, flustered and confused, didn't catch that nuance.

Instead, she frowned deeply.

"Impossible! I am Shinomiya Kaguya!"

She didn't yell, but the weight in her voice was undeniable.

Azuma gave a quiet, knowing smile, then turned and continued walking—this time without stopping.

Kaguya remained still, her thoughts churning.

For the first time… she wasn't thinking of recruiting Yukima Azuma or calculating his political worth.

She was simply… curious. And deeply irritated.

"What does he mean I can't give him what he wants?"

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

A wave of pride surged up in her chest, fueled by frustration.

Then came the whisper of rivalry. Not in status, not in intellect—but in something far more primal.

"I must make him submit beneath my skirt!"

"Hayasaka, I have decided!"

She turned to her silent, ever-present maid.

"Hayasaka, I will make Yukima Azuma yield to me."

Hayasaka Ai blinked slowly, her face unreadable.

"That… will be difficult," she thought, her gaze softening.

Because what Yukima Azuma wanted wasn't something Kaguya had the authority to give.

He didn't want money. He didn't want connections.

What he desired was far more personal:

The entire Hayasaka family.

And… herself—Hayasaka Ai.

Unless Kaguya someday stood at the head of the Shinomiya family, she wouldn't be able to grant that wish.

"Kaguya-sama, you're spacing out again."

Kaguya's sharp voice pulled her back from her inner thoughts.

"I'm still listening. So what exactly are we doing?" Hayasaka replied smoothly, shifting back into maid mode.

Kaguya puffed out her cheeks, crossing her arms.

"Well… first things first—we're bringing him to Shuchiin Academy!"

Several Days Later – The Ryuuou Finals

The morning sun bathed the Hinatsuru Estate in golden light.

"Shishou! Do your best! Ai will be cheering for you~!"

ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰

Hinatsuru Ai burst into Yukima Azuma's room with the unrestrained energy of a firecracker, carrying a meticulously prepared breakfast in both hands.

She was also—alarmingly—dressed in a classic maid outfit: black and white frills, puffed sleeves, and a lacy headband.

Yukima Azuma nearly choked on air.

"…Brat. What's with that outfit?"

Trailing behind her, Sora Ginko narrowed her eyes sharply.

"That's exactly what I was about to ask."

Hinatsuru Ai beamed innocently.

"Hmph! This is a specially tailored uniform for Shishou!"

"A symbol of my undying loyalty!"

(≖_≖ )

Just as she was about to say more—

Yukima Azuma slapped a hand over her mouth.

( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

His eyes darted to the hallway.

This was the Ryuuou Finals. Journalists were everywhere. If one of them overheard a loli in a maid outfit calling him "Master"…

His reputation would be toast.

FBI: (≖‿≖)︻デ═一

Ginko rolled her eyes and wordlessly handed him something small—a sachet.

He accepted it, eyebrows raised.

The embroidery was delicate, with a faint snowflake pattern stitched in one corner. He brought it to his nose.

A faint herbal scent rose up—cool, earthy, calming.

"Medicinal blend," Ginko muttered. "Wear it. It'll help you stay alert."

Then she looked away, her voice dropping:

"D-Don't get the wrong idea. It's not a good luck charm or anything. I just… made it. Casually."

"…Anyway, just don't lose."

Yukima Azuma stared at her for a long moment. Then…

"…Thank you, Ginko-senpai."

He carefully attached the sachet to his belt.

For the first time, he understood why some players insisted on keeping small trinkets at the table. It wasn't superstition.

It was emotional armor.

A symbol of belief.

After eating Hinatsuru Ai's energizing breakfast and receiving Ginko's unspoken blessing, Yukima Azuma made his way to the venue.

While Kawai Kenichi was being swarmed by the press outside, Azuma—coming from the estate—walked through the side entrance completely unnoticed.

He sat at the 7-shaku board and smiled.

"Looks like I arrived first," he chuckled softly. "Isn't this how legendary upsets always begin?"

Kawai Kenichi arrived moments later, slightly breathless from fending off photographers.

He took a deep breath and smiled brightly.

"Finally, Yukima-senpai! I've waited so long for this."

"I've trained harder than ever, all because of your words."

"I want you to see my growth. So please—go all out!"

Azuma nodded, his expression calm.

"…Umu. I will respond with full strength."

And thus, the Ryuuou Finals: Genius vs. Challenger began.

Kawai opened with Ai-Kakugyou—Double Bishop Exchange.

Yukima responded in kind, mirroring his opponent's structure. The air grew still.

But quickly, it became clear:

Kawai had evolved.

His reading was sharper, his attacks fluid. From a raw prodigy, he had become a full-fledged warrior of the board.

Even the Meijin watching would have felt the tension.

Kawai's belief was simple: With this strategy, even I can defeat a genius.

"I'll win today."

"I've earned this."

But Yukima Azuma's presence said otherwise.

"Throughout Heaven and Earth… I alone am honored."

(︶︿︶)_╭∩╮

After 130 hands of brutal calculation, Kawai's pieces froze.

His breath hitched.

Then—

"I lost."

He placed down his resignation piece and bowed.

Are you kidding?

If passion and belief were enough to defeat someone like Azuma, the man wouldn't have needed to grind for years in solitude.

Not long ago, Kawai had shouted about bonds, friendship, the future.

But within a single match, Azuma dismantled every illusion.

Everything Kawai thought he understood about Ai-Kakugyou—

Azuma redefined it before his eyes.

Kawai stared blankly at the board.

Who am I?

Where am I?

Why did I ever think I stood a chance?

The genius didn't just win.

He rewrote the laws of shogi—in front of everyone.