Once he got there, the giant man chose to sit on the ground instead since he was too tall for the chair, instead crossing his legs and looking at the board. Of course, the kid seemed a bit creeped out by the guy who talked with a bucket head, though since Bucket was already a bit of a figure in town as a weird but useful and hard-working hobo, the boy at least knew who he was, so they got to playing. Though Bucket was a total newbie, his mind worked really quickly, trying to see a few moves ahead, though not knowing which move would actually be the most likely. He still wouldn’t get anywhere near winning with this, but at least he’d not lose immediately.
The kid started to talk. Bucket welcomed it, since it was a bit better than just ranting to himself. The kid talked about the pressure he felt at home to always perform because of the fame he had accrued as a chess genius, his need (and possible inferiority complex) towards his accomplished brothers and the general issues that a kid like him would face. It was a whole new perspective of problems and childhood for the older man who had only known suffering.