Revised: August 28, 2023
Chapter Fo#r: Thought You Won? Well, Check, Mate ♟
~
Nobody suspected a thing when you returned from "your trip to the powder room." You didn't know- nor cared- what excuse Dio used to leave the table, but it appeared to have worked flawlessly as well (damn him). The only noticable difference was the dessert plate in front of you rather than the rest of your dinner. Except for that minor disappointment, not much else happened. Neither you nor Dio sent any more secret messages to each other, or even spoke to each other for the rest of the evening. Just as you hoped, he didn't mention any more details in your father's contract that were wrong or possibly even cheating Mister Joestar. Though you were sure that Dio could've pointed out at least five things if he actually tried.
You spent the rest of the time at the Joestar estate mentally breaking apart. Somehow though, regardless of the fears and shallow promises plaguing your entire mind, you managed to not spill a thing. You'd never give that bastard Dio the pleasure of watching you crumble. So in hiding it, you kept up an act of being a polite young lady without a single worry on her mind.
Just before mentally checking out, the last thing you did was deliver to Jonathan the letter that Erina wrote. It happened outside, right as your family members were expressing their thanks and goodbyes to the hosts, when you decided to pass him the letter which had remained hidden in your pocket. He looked extremely confused at first, but without any energy left to explain, all you did was whisper, "From a certain Erina Pendleton," and left it at that.
Now, if that hadn't already been the perfect way to end a stressful day, then arriving home with a party invitation in the mail was!
"Well, aren't you excited? This is a wonderful opportunity to get to know more people, you should take advantage of this!" Your mother declared after she ripped open the letter in front of you.
Was it not more than obvious that you couldn't care less about a stupid party? Well, maybe not if you were suppressing the emotions on your face. But still- the only reason why she could've been so excited about an invitation were because of the thoughts of you building connections with future powerful people. A.k.a, children who were the heirs to powerful people.
With the way your mother waved that cream-colored envelope in your face, it was more surprising that the invitation wasn't for her.
More than usual, you didn't want anything to do with something related to social gatherings. Heck, talking to only one boy managed to drain your entire energy for the rest week, how would you handle several people?
... thinking about it now, you realized that you had mistakenly lied in your earlier statement. You could care less, only for the very girl who sent the invitation. The letter might as well have been signed off as Miss Snotty since she acted as if she owned the word. Unfortunately, it was actually Elizabeth, a much nicer name than what she deserved. In the past you've witnessed several instances where she manipulated others, cried her way out of trouble, or straight-up ignored people because she didn't like their faces. This "get-together" she prepared was probably some poor attempt for her and her friends to meet some new boy toys.
And to invite you? Probably only happened because you made small talk with her some time ago at the park. You believed that since she was older than you that Elizabeth could've lended you some words of wisdom. Well, that was the same conversation where you learned that her head was as empty as a flowerpot.
Still, you were going to that party regardless of what you wanted, at least that's what mother's face was saying. Nothing could change her mind now, even if you mentioned how it would look bad for you to go to a social outing before your Debutante Ball, especially without a chaperone. Yet she wouldn't care. So with a fake smile and an effortless excuse about going to choose a dress for the event, you retreated to your room and curled up in your bed with your (f/c) blanket.
Sitting in complete silence, you allowed thoughts to flow in and out of your mind. It was as if your brain was still trying to process what happened at the Joestar's estate. You probably weren't going to get much sleep tonight. Damn you again, Dio!
~
~
🍵
~
There were no formal rules in place on how to set apart a "normal" social gathering and a "rich" one. But it only made sense that a high middle-class party would take place in a green, open field on a sunny day like this. The tables had food piled high, and were decorated with ribbons and streamers. Serving staff were wandering around aimlessly within the area while holding platters of sparkling drinks, which one could only assume was apple cider since all the guests were minors. The one in the center of this great display of wealth was of course, dear Elizabeth, drowning in all the attention and absolutely loving it. While you respectively greeted her, she didn't give you more than a few seconds of her attention before skipping over to the next handsome rich boy.
The other guests in general were exactly what you had expected. Elizabeth's equally popular and older friends talking, and in some cases verbally fighting over, some of the attractive boys . Although you might have recognized most of the girls' faces, they weren't the ones you willingly wasted your time talking to. And the boys in the crowd also lived up to your expectations. Ugly and rich or handsome but arrogant. For those few whose appearance you did spend some time lingering on, you quickly turned away knowing that if they attended this party, their personality would no doubt ruin their beauty. So with no one here that mattered to you, you stayed around the food table.
For quite some time nothing caught your attention- you simply drowned your worries away with apple cider. That was until you looked around the shrubbery near the perimeter of the field. Despite being trimmed to the most perfect shape possible, it wasn't the shrubs that interested you. It was the small table that only had two seats near them that did. The chairs were occupied by two boys, one looking much calmer than the other as he picked up a small wooden figurine and placed it on a new location on the board between them. Looking closer you realized that they were playing a games of chess. Around the same time you had spotted them, a few others noticed as well and a small crowd was beginning to form around them.
The losing side was obvious, the small and skinny frame of a boy was practically shaking in his boots as he hesitantly moved a piece. Not even before he could pull his hand away, the confident boy, a tall redhead with a piercing gaze, promptly moved a piece forward. The skinny kid with his hand still hovering on top of the board just let his hand drop, accepting his defeat peacefully. But there was something about the redhead you hated, it could've been his boastfulness or the way he looked at his opponent as if they were inferior, but you really wanted to knock him down a peg. The fact that he resembled a familiar blonde may have also played a role...
"Get better and maybe you can actually be a challenge next time, chump!" He roared at an unnecessarily high volume, but got awarded with the giggles of the kids around him.
That was it. You didn't waste another second standing around and advanced towards them. You even set your cup of apple cider down at a random table on the way there. That was how serious you were about this. You heard him sneer once more,
"Does anyone else want to try?" You couldn't help the sly smile that curled on your lips. He just made your job a whole lot easier.
You slipped through the crowd as they murmured about themselves and finally got close enough into the circle to be heard. "E-excuse me, I do!"
The guests parted to make way for the challenger. The boy's condescending grin quickly changed to a friendly, flirtatious smile when he realized it was only a girl trying to play against him.
"Are you sure you want to play? Chess is quite a challenging game after all," he said, one step away from talking down to you. That was his very last chance to redeem himself and he wasted it.
As you donned the metaphorical mask you had spent years perfecting, you prepared yourself for the role you were so used to playing. With an innocent expression on your face, you pretended to brush off your dress and fix your hair while looking at the boy.
"Oh my, it's been a while, but I've played once or twice before. Still, I really want to play, and I'm a pretty fast learner too! I hope you don't mi~nd." You dragged out the last word like you've heard Elizabeth do before.
He didn't even try to hide the growing smirk on his face. It was obvious that he was thinking of how you'd be an easy mark, that he'd swoon you then have fun with you after this. As he gestured for you to sit across from him, he didn't realize just how wrong that was.
"Can I get the name of this lovely lady sitting in front of me?"
Beginning with a high-pitched giggle you responded with, "Hehe, (Y/n). What is yours?"
"Thomas B. Hughes at your service. Now, allow me to refresh your memory of the game."
Even if he was going as fast as possible, quite a few people left while he was skimming over the rules. For someone who was adoring the attention a moment ago, it was unexpected to see that he was purposely sacrificing that attention to win over a girl. Aw, how cute. You might've even been flattered if he didn't look three or four years older than you. (Which isn't a large difference of age in itself, but in this instant is the difference of 13 years and 16 or 17 years.)
"Now, shall we begin?" That ended up being the last thing he said with full confidence for the rest of the evening.
Without the courtesy of allowing you the first move, he moved a white pawn forward and the game began from there. As it rolled along it became increasingly obvious that he was going incredibly easy on you. Perhaps he thought he had this game in the bag. So, to show your appreciation, you also went easy on him. You allowed him the small mercy of winning the practice game.
Then in the first round, you waited 23 moves in to say, "I win!"
"What? Sorry but I think you're mistaken-," Thomas stopped short as he eyed the board and studied the pieces carefully. "Y-you can't do that! You didn't say check!"
But as he looked at your face he only saw a fake, perplexed stare. "Check? Is it my responsibility to alert you that I'm about to win? My apologies, I didn't know!"
Based on his face's reaction to that acting, it appeared that he still foolishly believed and underestimated you.
"That's okay! It's my fault for not mentioning the rule to you. It was beginner's luck anyway. Now that the second practice round is over, ready to start the real thing?"
It was so subtle the way he tried to recover from almost losing, but with every little word that came out of his mouth, you could hear the true meaning behind them. Your victory was pure luck; Only because you were ignorant of the rules; Next time I'll actually try to win.
However, you made sure not to let things go as he planned. The next time it was 21 moves in when you won. Checkmate. "Again!" the redhead cried immediately. That match you won in 19. Checkmate. Even better, the crowd began to grow due to people's curiosities.
In order to punish the boy who greatly valued how people saw him, the best punishment was gathering a lot of people (particularly his peers) to witness him lose to a younger girl. This would guarantee that the knife would cut just deep enough. It was just poor timing; you've been so anxious in recent days and was unable to let out the pent-up stress. Thomas just happened to be the perfect victim whose attitude rubbed off on you the wrong way.
If you excluded the "practice rounds", it was the third match when you won in 17 moves. Checkmate. The fourth 15. Checkmate. He finally lost it when he saw your lips make the "ch-" sound when you were about to win the fifth match in 13 moves.
Standing up so quickly, he knocked his chair back. Those who surrounded the table had to take a step back to avoid getting hit by the chair. He began flailing his arms in loud, exaggerated movements.
"Liar! You pretended not to know the game when you actually did! There's no other way you could've won that many times! My only mistake was letting you win because I thought you were a novice!" When he heard the murmurs of the doubtful crowd around him, he turned to them, desperate to have someone on his side. Really though, he was making a mountain out of an anthill. Was it that hard for him to accept that he lost to a girl?
"Did I not warn you, Thomas?"
The young man opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by your words, "I'm a quick learner, I told you that. If you don't believe me, any person here will tell you that I have never been anywhere near the chess tournaments that they hold in this city."
The whole thing was a lie, you spent countless hours alone in your room reading chess books and mastering the game. The only slight truth was that this was your first match against another person. But they don't need to know that, and just as you said, all the avid chess players in the crowd proceeded to nod and agree with your statement. Now was the time to play your final card, just to rub salt to the wound.
"And I have to thank you, for it was because of you that I learned to play chess and become good at it. So thank you, Thomas!" Your hand extended over the table as you smiled heartily.
You just played the sportsmen card- when your opponents are just too nice to get mad at. Or the flip side, when the audience believes that your opponents are just too nice- and that if you fought with them- it would be deemed unsportsmanlike.
Regardless of that, as the bitter loser he was- he just ignored your hand, mumbled some comment, then stomped away. It was almost disappointing how quickly he left. Were you wishing that he would put up a fight and humiliate himself more? Possibly. But you already put him in his place, and hopefully, he'll learn from this experience and be humbler in the future.
Glancing around, you saw that all these older kids seemed enthralled by your little performance. You knew you had gained some of their respect, or at least their acknowledgment, something that helped when you wanted them to leave you alone but not become a social outcast.
With no other reason to stay at the table, you were about to stand up, absent-mindedly accept any compliments (if any came your way), then go back to eating. However you were cut off from your plans by a voice that broke through the crowd.
"Oh, (Y/n)! Would you be up for one more game?" Someone called through the crowd.
You didn't immediately recognize whose voice it was, for there was a sea of people around you and they were all engaged in their own little talks. Yet something about the voice immensely unsettled you. The first thing you noticed was a suit and tie coming your way, which barely narrowed it down since all the boys here were dressed the same. But the realization hit you like a steam train as he parted through the crowd and his golden hair came into view.
"Dio?" You swore you heard a few girls swoon near the back at the mention of his name. If only the guests of the party could hear the colorful string of creative curses currently bouncing around in your brain right now. To keep yourself from running you had to grip the seat of your chair until your knuckles grew white.
"How long has it been since I last saw you? A week already?" He picked up the wooden chair which had been tossed to the ground and set it back up, then without asking, sat where Thomas had been a minute before.
When you were sitting across from the redhead, you felt like a cunning mastermind: methodically laying down traps and watching him fall into each and every one. Yet in the presence of this blonde bastard, you were a mere rabbit seated across from a Janus-faced monster. He, like you, knew how to keep his mask firmly on his face, but to you there was a major difference between playing a role chosen for you or willingly choosing to hide your horrible actions from others. The worst part was that although you both saw each other bare-faced and off-guard that day with Erina, it was you who stood to lose the most if Dio ever revealed your true nature to others, even if that only included punching some boys and climbing trees.
From behind you heard whispers of people wondering how the two of you had met before. If someone says secret courtship- oh too late for that.
"I think you're right, it's been about a week now since my family had dinner at your place," you calmly mentioned. With that comment, the whispering died off before they were able to fully evolve into rumors. "I didn't know that you were invited to this gathering, what a pleasant surprise! Unfortunately I was, uh, about to go and-"
"Surely you won't make me beg (Y/n)! I watched you play against Thomas over there and it appears as though you're a natural at chess," he half-pleaded.
He was watching you this entire time? Now you felt self-conscious of how you were acting earlier.
He went on, "I'm quite good at chess myself, and would love to play against a challenging opponent. Won't you be willing to play just one match with me?"
You caught a glimpse of his discreet and amused smile, but only for a moment. Imagining the message he was trying to send ended up with something along the lines of: it was your idea for a match to make up for what happened in the forest. Are you going to chicken out now?
It wasn't that you were too scared to compete against him, but rather that you were caught so off guard. You had planned to practice any game he could've wanted to play before you returned to the Joestar's mansion. But here? Right now? In front of all these people? In regards to the match as well as facing the consequences of losing, you were completely unprepared!
Continuing on, you swallowed a large ball of saliva that collected in the back your mouth then said, "I suppose one match couldn't hurt!"
He only hummed in approval as you caved in.
The chess pieces were returned to their original positions and you chose to give Dio the black pieces, as according to storybook logic it only seemed fitting. He had tried to get the white pieces for himself, but you had acted quicker. However as your hands now worked across the board, your shakey left hand accidentally knocked over two pieces.
In response, Dio leaned in close and whispered, "What's the matter (Y/n)? Scared?"
Those simple words seemed to strike a chord in your heart, making it beat a mile a minute. Petrified wasn't even close to describing how you felt mentally. It was almost comical how all of your emotions did a full 180 flip merely by being in the presence of this boy for a few minutes.
You were probably overreacting, probably overestimating him. Overthinking and over-analyzing. He wasn't as tough as you thought! Yeah! You have to be more confident in your own abilities! Even if the crowd was cheering for Dio, you have to be the one to cheer yourself on!
~
It was a well-fought battle at the very least. After the first half, the crowd turned silent at the growing tension. The number of times that Dio sacrificed his pieces, be they pawns or otherwise, was endless. There were many times when you were hesitant to even take his pieces, unsure if that was the move he wanted. It appeared, however, that he truly did abandon each piece after they served their purpose. Regardless of his tactic there were too many close calls of him almost winning. There was only once in the entirety of the drawn-out game where you even felt the feeling of victory brush against your fingertips. But alas, it was your king that ended up being dethroned, not his.
The audience dispersed as soon as the winner was called, some tired after watching a long chess game, but most others going up and praising Dio. None of them had anything against you, but it was only obvious who the more charismatic out of the two of you were. If only you could be as good-natured as you usually were and say something sincere like, "good game" or "that was fun", but the anticipation turning in your stomach stopped you from doing so.
What broke you from your vacant stare was the sight of Dio's hand in front of you. Meeting his eyes, you saw someone who was kind and benevolent, oh how much you wished that was actually true! From the many unfamiliar and few familiar faces staring at the interaction from behind, it appears that he too was playing the sportsmen card. It felt simply ironic, yet well deserved. So you took his hand, gave it a firm shake, and congratulated him. He smiled seemingly pleased with himself, but you couldn't tell if it was because you lost to him, the better reputation he must have with his classmates, or the fact that he successfully passed you the note that you now slipped down the sleeve of your dress.
He walked away after that, his "friends" trailing behind him like loyal followers with their god. You stayed in the chair just a bit longer, taking a few moments to calm down. When your head rolled back against the chair, your eyes lead you to the sky above. The great, vast, pale blue sky with fluffy clouds sprinkled around every so often. No matter what happens, the sky stays the same. Remember that, remember that the earth keeps spinning. Even as you were telling yourself these things, you couldn't figure out if you were blowing things out of proportions or accurately preparing yourself for how the situation will be. Like trying to figure out if your opponent was wielding a machete onger pocket knife.
Whatever the case, you scanned around the area one last time before fetching the folded sheet of paper. Did he choose a note on purpose, because that's how you communicated with him during the dinner? Trying to pinch the corner of the paper, your fingers faltered. Ultimately, you couldn't stand it any longer and you pulled the paper's edges all at once. This ended up with the paper falling out of your hands and onto to the ground. You hastily plucked it up from the grass and brought it to your bosom as if it held the world's secrets.
It was then when you noticed a small detail that you almost glanced over. This paper, with the curled fringes at the top and the light pencil marks. Isn't this sheet from the notepad that the servers with the apple cider had? Could it be that Dio asked one of them for a paper to write this down? Yet with the way that he so carefully handed you this paper, it wouldn't be surprising either if he nabbed the paper and pencil when a server wasn't looking.
Why did that matter though? What difference did it make? You were probably trying to distract yourself with useless thoughts. After a deep sigh, you finally read the hurried, cursive lettering on the paper.
𝐼𝓉 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒. 𝑀𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓇.
(It seems that I have won this time. Meet me near the lake in an hour.)
Dio had already figuratively beaten you to a pulp, but this note did it you in. You couldn't even begin to fathom what sort of condition he could have come up with, or what type of bloody hell he prepared for you. Your mind wandered over to what Erina told you, of what Dio did to Jonathan. It cannot be forgotten that those were the few things that she knew about, there were certainly more instances. If Dio was willing to pull those things with Jonathan in public, robbing him of friends, spreading nasty rumors, and stopping him from being with a girl, what type of nasty schemes does he come up with when no one's looking?
To have written this letter even before the match meant that he was fully confident in his ability in chess. He came prepared to win, and you were bound to lose from the start. There's a difference between being naturally talented in something and having experience. That is what separated you two and that's why he won. You crumbled the paper in your palm and stuffed it down your sleeve to properly throw it away later. Whatever awaited you, you did not know. And with the little information you did know, you could already be a dead girl walking. In other words, a girl with less than an hour to live with her reputation and dignity intact.
As you finally found your way to the food table again, you prepared to eat all you could as your last meal before death row.
______________________
Thomas could scarcely wrap his head around the current situation. One moment people were cheering him on for winning against this scrawny kid, but the next moment he's sitting all alone inside his house and drowning down a bottle of wine.
Blasted! It's all that girl's fault! She seemed just a bit younger and more innocent than the rest of the guests, who were all around his and Elizabeth's age. That didn't stop him from trying to woo the her! How could he not, when she was so pleasing to his eyes? He was only going to best her in chess before offering her some cake as compensation then continue from there. Was that so wrong?
She said her name once at the very beginning, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was. The only thing that stood out in his memory was how she lied about being new to chess. There was no possible way for her to win unless she cheated or was trained by a master. No woman could pick up on chess that quickly!
To top it all off, (and what ticked him off the most), was that this girl decided to lose to that pesky Dio Brando no less than ten minutes afterwards! Thomas loathed him- the boy showed up to the boxing ring one day, wipes out Jonathan Joestar, and then all of a sudden becomes popular around here. The chaps that used to hang out with Thomas were picking the 'new kid Dio' over him.
Did she lose because he struck her fancy? She must've lost on purpose because she didn't want to look bad to that bastard Brando!
Thomas grinded his teeth some more and took another swig at the wine bottle.
Tsk, Elizabeth was going to rub this in his face for days! If he ever sees that cheating chess girl again, he's going to give her a piece of his mind!