That aggressive Black 69 has been described as “a diabolic stroke.” The
Master himself said afterwards that it had the sort of ferocity Otaké was
known for. Everything depended upon the White response. If it proved
inadequate, White could quite easily have lost control of the board. The
Master deliberated an hour and forty-six minutes over White 70. His
longest period of meditation came ten days later, on August 5, when he
spent two hours and seven minutes on White 90. White 70 was his second
slowest play.
If Black 69 was diabolically aggressive, White 70 was a brilliant holding
play. Onoda, among others, was speechless with admiration. The Master
stood firm and averted a crisis. He retreated a pace and forestalled disaster.
A magnificent play, it cannot have been easy to make. Black had charged
into a headlong assault, and with this one play White had turned it back.
Black had made gains, and yet it seemed that White, casting away the
dressings from his wounds, had emerged with greater lightness and
freedom of action.
The sky was dark with the squall Otaké had called a tempest, and the
lights were on. The white stones, reflected on the mirrorlike face of the
board, became one with the figure of the Master, and the violence of the
wind and rain in the garden seemed to intensify the stillness of the room.
The squall soon passed. A mist trailed over the mountain, and the sky
brightened from the direction of Odawara, down the river. The sun struck
the rise beyond the valley, locusts shrilled, the glass doors at the veranda
were opened again. Four black puppies were sporting on the lawn as Otaké
played Black 73. Once more the sky was lightly clouded over.
