King's Gambit

Smiling, he shook his head. He couldn't blame her in their state. "No need to apologize."

"Thank you," she mumbled, lips pressed together tightly, while she removed the white pawn from the board to place it on the side. Impatiently, she nodded towards the chess board, her message clear.

His turn. For his plan to succeed, he'd have to keep playing defense.

White knight. F3.

"Come to think of it, I think I faintly remember this strategy of yours when I watched some of your tournaments ..."

His sister retorted, this time with more confidence after having successfully claimed one of his pawns as her own.

Black pawn. G5.

He suppressed a cough. She was inexperienced, of course she wouldn't know that just moving her pawns into the front of the battlefield would weaken the back.

"Yes, you're correct. It's a pretty aggressive opening move," the older brother explained. "Since you asked me to give it my all," he added, a bit more quiet this time.

Despite his concentration waning, he had already pulled off the King's Gambit successfully. In silence, he prayed his next scheme would do just as well as his first.

"I'm glad to hear that," she answered, pulling her blanket closer to her body, the smile on her lips genuine.

The look of defeat was written all over her face and contrary to what she felt, she showed him the happiest smile as a mask to hide her own pain. He knew she would be truthfully glad to lose this game. Keeping that in the back of his mind, his next move made it even harder for him to continue. For a moment, he questioned and doubted the decision he had made at the very start of this chess game, but remembering what was at stake, he moved his hands with determination.

They played for what felt like an eternity. In a battle of wits, he had the upper hand and after an hour, his brilliant scheming had finally paid off. Satisfied, he watched her reaction.

"How could it have come to this? What the -"

His sister buried her face in her hands, looking at the game board in disbelief. She was about to beat him. Just how? Her brother was a professional chess player and here she was, an absolute rookie, defeating him at his own expertise. Her figures circled his white king with no option left to avoid defeat.

"You have to say it," he urged.

"Don't force me to," she refused, now hissing in complete panic, "If I say it, you'll-"

"Say it," he demanded, his voice more fierce and raspier this time, "Please."

If she did like he told her to, she would emerge victorious and get the prize. If she didn't follow suit, they'd have to keep playing until hell froze over. Personally, she'd rather take the latter, but her brother would never let it happen. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. No other choice left, she inhaled deeply, her rib cage and lungs bursting painfully with air, while maintaining eye contact with her brother.

"... Checkmate," she croaked and furiously put her figure down to seal her victory. His king was caught, his battle lost.

"I lost," he laughed happily, running his fingers through his hair. As he leaned back in his creaking chair, immense relief exited his body abruptly. The tension that had taken a hold on him vanished into nothingness.

It had worked. Everything had went according to plan.

The little sister banged her fist on the table, causing the figures to fall over with scattered thuds. Only the white king and the black queen remained standing.

"I told you to play seriously, goddamn!"

On the brink of tears, she bit her lower lip, hard. "You went easy on me, you idiot," she cursed, only realizing now what he had been doing all game, "I told you to play serious! You deceived me with that opening move of yours, so I would -"

"We agreed that the winner gets it, right?" he asked, a faint smile ridden with guilt on his lips. Slowly, he bent down to reach for the prize hidden in the drawer.

"I don't want it."

Gulping and teary-eyed, she just shook her head, mouthing for him to stop. In one motion, he put the black metal down on the middle of the table, which his sister only eyed with pure horror.

"Don't even-"

"This gun is yours, dear sister," he stated, now without regrets, almost triumphant, "You're gonna be the sibling who shoots themself."