"After a bad opening, there is hope for the middle game. After a bad middle game, there is hope for the endgame. But once you are in the endgame, the moment of truth has arrived."

Maya Menchik, 9

I squeeze the piece in my fist, my hands interlaced, elbows on the table and chin resting on my knuckles as my eyes scan the board. Calculations- possible lines and exchanges and deviations- are all running in my head, and I have to close my eyes to try to quiet them. It's only a few moves in, and there's no need to waste my energy thinking of possibilities that most likely won't happen. Besides, this guy isn't very good.

It's taken months of begging, bartering, and whining, but dad finally hesitantly agreed to take me to one of the monthly tournaments that they hold at the District Center. It's not meant for amateurs, almost everyone else here is at least twice my age, but they aren't pros either. Marcin Melling is the only real chess master here, and if the man across from me is supposed to be one of the best players in the tournament, then Melling is the only person I really need to worry about.

I take in a deep breath and open my eyes again, and the man is smiling, looking amused as he looks between me, the board, and the captured knight of mine he holds between his fingers. The look in his eyes says everything he's thinking in his head, wondering why he's having to waste his time beating a little girl. Idiot.

"You know," he says, in that voice adults use to talk to kids like they think we're just little babies who don't know a thing. "There's a kids tournament on the fifth at the Rec Center that you might have a more fun time playing in."

"Winning in five moves isn't fun," I murmur, sliding my bishop across the board and capturing his pawn. "And you aren't supposed to talk at the board." He looks up at me with a confused look, and I record my move on my notebook, and the next two moves that I already know are coming while I'm at it. BxF2+. 6. KxF2 QxD1. "Check."

"Oh," the man says, looking down at the board. He's quiet for a long minute, the clock ticking away the entire time. "Well, no point playing without a queen." He sighs defeatedly, knocking down his king in surrender while shaking his head. "That was a cute trap, who taught you it?"

I sigh, scratching out the two moves and writing 0-1 in its place. "I did," I say, picking up my notebook and sliding out of my chair.

My hopes for a good, challenging warm-up game to start the tournament are gone, but the little burst of joy I feel watching the looks of surprise from the other tables at my quick victory isn't a half-bad boost itself. At the top table, where the "best" players are put to face off, Melling is already crushing his opponent just a dozen moves in, the man across from him holding his head in frustration.

Melling looks up from his board as I pass by, and I flash a smile, waving pleasantly. He smirks, shaking his head and turning back to the table while I walk up to my dad in the half-full audience, with a big grin stuck on my lips.

"Told you it'd be easy," I say to him, holding up the sheet of moves.

He glances across the sheet, and even though he looks unsure I can see the pride that he's trying to hide behind it. "Five moves?" He asks, shaking his head and barely holding in a snort of laughter that makes his nose crunch up.

"He hung his queen with an hour left on his clock." I sigh, unknotting my ponytail and letting my hair fall down. "I played an opening that's not even good because I wanted to see how easily I could equalize."

"A bit too easily, I guess?" He teases.

I cross my arms. "I just wanted it to be a bit harder." An arbiter comes up to me, and I hand him the sheet recording all my moves. He gives me an odd look when he notices how short it is, and then a second one when he sees who it was that won, but doesn't say anything, just shoving it in his pocket and moving on. I sigh and plop onto the bleachers next to my dad, glumly resting my cheek on my fist.

"It's not always gonna be this easy, you know." My dad looks over at me, and he sighs, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and squeezing me against him. "You're a nine-year-old kid and you're already starting to do amazing things. I know that you always like to look ahead at the next big challenge, the next step up, and that's great. It's what makes you so special, never giving up and being content, always trying to be better. But don't forget to stop and smell the roses every once in a while either, huh? Otherwise, what's the point?"

I pull away, and I smile up at him, nodding my head. "I know. I'll smell the roses plenty when I win this tournament."

He quirks a smile, ruffling my hair into a moppy mess. I stick my tongue out at him, and he laughs, but shakes his head, his smile disappearing for a moment as he looks serious again. "Just don't put too much pressure on yourself, okay? You don't have to be the best, at least not yet anyways. I swear that sometimes we both forget you're still a kid."

"I don't forget," I say. "How could I?"

The next few hours drag on at a pace that's far too slow to compare to a snail. Everything goes by on repeat. I win a game in a dozen or two moves because the man across from me underestimates me and gets frustrated when they get behind. They get to a losing position and surrender rather than let themselves get checkmated by me. Then I wait. Sometimes a half hour, sometimes double that. And then it starts again.

The first day ends with Melling and I at the top of the scoreboard, each scoring 5/5 with five easy wins each. Five games in a single day should be exhausting and draining, and it is, but for all the wrong reasons. I go to bed without even bothering to go over the games beyond what I already did in between matches. There was nothing there to learn from.

The second day isn't as bad. There's only three matches lined up, for one, and the first two are at least somewhat interesting. Neither of them were ever going to beat me, but they both at least had draw chances and fought until the end. After the second game ends, I politely shake hands with a stoic face, and then let a smile burst onto my lips when I run up to dad with the scorecard in my hands.

"I finally got to get checkmate on the board. And it was a smother mate!"

Dad just smiles and nods and says he's proud of me and sits in silence while I read through the moves of my game, playing out the game in my head and searching it for mistakes. It isn't until the arbiter comes up and takes the scoresheet that I remember who's up next. The only other undefeated player, the best player in the tournament, and the only person here who's any good. Marcin Melling.

I check the scoreboard as they lead me to the table, and I see that Melling's last game ended in a draw. That means I don't even have to beat him to win the tournament, all I need is a draw. For some reason it's only that realization that's enough to make my palms start to sweat. I'm glad to sit down so that nobody can see my legs starting to shake.

Melling sits down across from me, and he's smiling nicely, but it's the kind of smile that makes me frown in return. He probably doesn't smile when he sits down to play anyone else. He's just treating me like every other player always does, like I'm a kid that he needs to be gentle with.

Without glaring, I do my best to look serious as I shake his hand. I almost smile when he returns the serious expression, but that would kinda defeat the point so instead I stare at my pieces for a moment and then nod at him and hit the clock.

The start of the game goes by in a blitz. It's like I'm playing against a book, every best move that I've memorized being shot right back at me. It isn't until his sixteenth move that Melling finally pauses, his brow furrowing as he concentrates on the board. I do the same, trying to remember my way through the position. I remember studying the line- the Poisoned Pawn Variation the book called it- pouring over it some night, but it's getting more and more blurry the further in the game gets.

All the calmness I normally feel playing chess isn't there anymore. There isn't that soothing sense of control, that every piece is mine, every move known and seen before it happens. My knee is bobbing up and down so hard that it nearly smacks against the table, and I have to tug on my ponytail to make sure it's still in place.

He makes a move I've never seen before, and I swear that I see a smile tug at his lips as he does it. The next few moves go by in another flurry, and I want to bang my head against the table when I find myself holding an extra two pawns and knight and it still doesn't seem to matter. I don't feel the game in my hand anymore. I feel it slipping.

It takes every last minute of the clock and seventy-nine moves before I find my hands shakily reaching down to the board, my hand looking like it belongs to someone else as it knocks down my king.

A polite applause comes from the crowd, and Melling wipes a brow of sweat from his forehead before reaching out to shake my hand, that same smile as before back on his lips. I look away when I shake his hand, my head bowed and my arm weak and dangly, hand practically smacking the table when he lets go.

He stands up and shakes a few more hands, but I stay seated at the table, staring at the board, running the game back through my head, searching again and again, trying to find where I went wrong. My dad comes up beside me, and he whispers a few words into my ear but I don't hear them. All I hear are my own thoughts, pounding in my brain so hard that it makes my head hurt, so hard that it makes me want to bring my hands up to cover my ears to try and quiet it.

Never again. My brain echoes, and my hand wraps around my king, squeezing tightly as dad ruffles a hand through my hair. I'll never lose again.

A/N: And another thank you to CC for her second kiddo, Maya! She's such a special character that I can't wait to get to write some more in the future. And speaking of CC, all of you who haven't already should go check out her new syot, Rashomon. It's got some of the best writing ever for an syot and ur not gonna wanna miss out, so y'all should go check it out and send her a sub! In the meantime, I'll see all y'all next time in District Four!