Elation
..
.
Nothing elates me more at this moment, than the sight of your calm bow, your gentle voice announcing, "I have nothing."
This is the first time I manage to defeat you in a fair game, without divine intervention-- that one was, contrarily, thoroughly devastating, that your bow had hidden such painful tears, such unforgiving despair; while I, the cause of all that, had barely understood anything.
It is not pleasure over your defeat, nor satisfaction over my superiority; it is joy over the fact that I can finally catch up to you, to start walking by your side instead of madly chasing you from behind as how I've had to settle for for so long.
And the win probably means nothing-- you and I know none of us will stay still: you will grow; I too will get better, and many a factor will come in to determine whose better is better in the end.
Except that there may not be an end.
The knowledge of this is surely what keeps you so calm despite your loss, as you look up to me with eyes as strong as they always are, inviting, "Shall we discuss the game?"
The next circumstance is almost serene, the flow of your hand movements above the board; and I for once listen without protesting as you point out my mistakes and admit your own.
Nothing elates me more at this moment, than the sight of your subtle smile, your firm gaze acknowledging, "My eternal rival."
.
..
