The pawns were my friends, the knights my family, and the queen my lover. For I was king.
When it came to chess, I was the best. In my corner of the world, anyway. I lived the sport as much as I could. Winning school tournaments, going to summer camps to learn new skills. Squaring off against multiple opponents simultaneously. Practicing with a plastic travel set and a versus timer and a book on named openings. For a while, chess was my calling. A passion that neither bishop nor rook could squander.
Today, that’s no longer the case. Writing, programming, and other -ing’s have replaced what was once my kingly domain. But, even today, having not played chess for years, I know that I could go back to that board. See the same familiar pieces. And they would invite me back with open arms (if they had arms, anyway).
Because, just as 3-gatsu no Lion would claim, what we experience never really leaves us – and that there’s always someone waiting to lend a loving hand.