Two gods eyed each other from across the chessboard.
"I've picked my piece, old friend. How about you?" He said, gesturing to his ace in the hole.
"That's quite the potent piece. Hm, I would normally be worried." The other god responded.
"What do you mean normally?" He said. The two gods had fought numerous times before, and while usually, Blanc (his opponent) won, it was usually at a great cost. Or it was an incomplete victory. This time, Noir was certain, he would deal the final blow.
"I've already picked out my piece. My Ace, and he is a direct counter to yours." Blanc said.
"Oh, and will you allow me to see this mighty champion of yours. The key to humanity's salvation?" Noir said.
"Of course. You've been kind enough to show me yours." Blanc said and snapped his fingers. Suddenly a picture of a house in rural Japan appeared. In a room in this house was a teenager. He was male with dark hair and...
He was in his underwear, singing Lady Gaga at the top of his lungs while dancing around enthusiastically.
"...Of all the champions you've chosen. I think this one might just be the most humiliating." Noir said, shaking his head. Considering Blanc's champions...that was saying a lot.
Blanc coughed, clearly not expecting this.
"No, you must understand, he has style and intelligence, much like your piece. Eccentricities aside, he will be able to overcome any challenge put in his way." Blanc said confidently.
"Really? Then how do you intend to get this piece to Tokyo? That's our chessboard after all, and my piece already resides there." Noir said with a smirk.
"Well, I am intending on having him run into your Black King. Then-" Blanc said but then he stopped. Then the door to the house opened, and two adults came in, resembling very much the teenage piece.
"...Or...this could work too." Blanc said, as he saw the older man's face turn red with rage. The woman's face fell in a look of disappointment. The older man walked towards his son's room and opened it with a hard shove.
That was the point the teenager finally noticed his parent's were home. There was shouting. A bit later the teenager came out with a crestfallen face, fully dressed, to meet his parents who were sitting on the couch. His father still looking quite angry while the mother looked...humiliated.
"I thought I told you to stop listening to that girly shit!" The father said.
"...I like that sort of music, father." He said, his head bowed.
"That's a problem. What is it? Has the media turned you into a homosexual? Has your mother been too nurturing? What's happened to you boy!" He yelled.
"Nobody's turned me into this Father. I've always been like this." The boy said. His mother started to cry.
"Bullshit! If you were like this as a boy I would have beaten it out of you. So tell me son, are you a homosexual? No son of mine will be a homosexual!" He said.
The boy looked up finally, he looked at his father for a moment. Then his mother. Then he looked past them, out the window into the bright, sunny day. It was a beautiful day outside. Spring had begun.
"Only part-time. I like women too." He said. For a moment there was deathly silence. Then a sharp, hard sound. The impact of a grown man slapping his teenage son. The boy flinched a bit, but he stayed firm, he lifted his chin and looked his father in the eyes.
"That's what you get for being a little faggot." the man said.
"Thank you sir, may I have another?" The boy said, his eyes defiant.
"You stupid faggot! Punk! Bitch! I'll beat the gay right out of you!" He said wailing at him with open palms. The boy stood there and took it. No more flinching. Nor resistance. Just took it.
"P-please dear! You must stop!" The boy's mother said, stopping the father's arm in place with her hands.
"Out of my way. This boy is insolent and an embarrassment!" The boy's father said, his eyes half-mad.
"I-I agree but surely there is a better way." She said.
"...What?" The man said.
"Isn't there a place...in Tokyo..." The mother said.
"Yeah. That's right. We could send him there. Have him stay with my old friend. He owes me." The man said.
"Y-yes. Of course and he can attend school during the day. It will all go well. Our son will be cured." the woman said.
"...There's nothing to cure." The boy said, his voice was small, but steady.
"What did you say boy?" The man said, a vein throbbing in his head.
"...I don't need to be cured. It's you two. You're the ones who need to be cured." He said, his voice was absolutely certain. No doubt about it.
"Why you-?!" The man said. Aiming to smack him again.
"P-please! His very sick! It's the illness talking. All that Anime and Manga, and games. And he's been watching all those foreign movies as well...they've made him sick. He needs to be made better. That place will help him." The woman said.
The boy was sent immediately to bed. In the morning, most of his collection of games, anime, manga, his iPod and his laptop, were all destroyed in front of him. Tossed into a fire. His face was a blank mask.
Noir looked again at his side of the board. His face one of intense concentration.
"What's wrong Noir? Getting worried?" Blanc said.
"I wouldn't go that far, friend. However, I may have to adjust my strategy a bit..." Noir said.
"Perfectly fine. I wouldn't have it any other way. This is a game after all." Blanc said. Though privately, he knew it was far more than that.
They played for keeps.