Silence. That was the feeling in a room full of small tables and chairs. Dozens of people sat in their seats, staring at the chessboard in front of them with focused gazes. In the corner of the room, a young woman with short hair and a faded blue shirt held a silver ring that was slightly too big for her finger. It was her late father's football championship ring, the only keepsake she had left of him. She stared at it for a moment, took a deep breath, and then put it back in the pocket of her jeans.
The woman's name was Dita. This was her first time participating in a chess tournament. The chess world was entirely new to her, but her decision to participate was a significant step. A week earlier, she had been hesitating in front of a tournament brochure pinned to her campus bulletin board. "Apakah aku benar-benar bisa?" she had murmured to herself back then. Now, here she was, amidst players who seemed far more experienced than her.
"Peserta Nomor 27, Dita Pramesti," the committee called through the microphone. Dita's heart raced. She walked to the game table, trying to calm her breathing.
Dita chose chess as her escape. Since childhood, her father had taught her the basics of the game. He often said, "Catur itu seperti hidup, Dita. Setiap langkah harus kau pikirkan dengan hati-hati, karena sekali salah langkah, akibatnya bisa panjang." After her father passed away from a heart attack two years ago, Dita started playing chess more seriously, not just as a pastime but to feel closer to the man she missed deeply.
This tournament was something she had never imagined before. Even so, she felt she had to try. "Ayah pasti ingin aku berani," she whispered to herself.
Dita sat at the table and observed her opponent, a man in his 30s with a sharp gaze. "Jangan terlalu tegang," the man said with a thin smile. "Nama saya Thomas. Semoga beruntung."
Dita simply nodded while staring at the chessboard. The game began. Step by step, she tried to recall the strategies her father had taught her. However, midway through the game, she began to notice something. Her opponent was deliberately making confusing moves—a psychological strategy.
"Kalau begitu, aku juga harus berpikir seperti dia," Dita thought. She began changing her playing style, observing small patterns that weren't immediately obvious. Here, she learned that everyone has a different perspective on chess, and sometimes, a shift in perspective can be the key to winning.
Every match had a time limit. Dita felt the pressure of the clock tightening as the digital timer on the table kept ticking. When the game reached a critical point, she had only five minutes left to think about her final move. At that moment, she remembered her father's words: "Jangan biarkan lawan menguasai pikiranmu. Fokus pada langkahmu sendiri."
Dita closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and finally made her decisive move. Thomas looked surprised but quickly gave a small smile. "Langkah yang bagus," he said before conceding.
