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Sweat drips from her forehead onto the tatami, darkening the space between the cards.
This is hard.
Chihaya’s breathing is loud and heavy, but she can hear Taichi across from her, just as exhausted as she is. The uneven rhythm of his breath, the soft drag of his sleeve against the mat. Every small sound sharpens her focus until it feels like the entire world has narrowed to this rectangle of tatami and the boy across from her.
She didn’t know he was capable of this; of presenting this type of challenge. It makes her head spin and her heart race, but she’s not going to let it get to her.
He’s just Taichi.
She bends forward, and knows that his own body is mirroring hers. She’s so used to playing him, she knows exactly how far she can lean before their heads collide. That, at least, hasn’t changed.
A dead card is read. She exhales sharply, releasing the tension in her body as the poem is recited and the reader's voice fades into the charged silence. She looks up, head still bowed over the playing field, and meets Taichi’s gaze. It’s different, looking at him from this angle, and she sees that unfamiliar drive and fire reflected in the golden depths of his eyes. He’s just as determined as she is, and for some reason, it sends a rush of excitement through her.
This is hard, but…this is fun.
She resists the urge to start grinning, forcing herself to concentrate. She never knew playing Taichi could feel this exhilarating. Her heart feels like it’s tumbling, caught between the thrill of a competition and something she’s not quite sure how to name. He’s her rival now, but he’s something else, too. Something that feels more profound. Something she’s not sure she fully understands yet.
She takes the next card, but he takes the one following that. It’s back and forth, like a tether being pulled and stretched between the two of them—one sound, one card, one breath at a time. The match could still be anyone's win, but she’s going to try her hardest to make it hers.
She’s hardly even aware of the spectators watching her every move. She only sees Taichi; sees the careful way his eyes track the cards. Sees the way his long fingers sweep across the mat. Sees the way he forces his body to relax before the next card is read.
But she won’t let herself lose focus. She’s down to one card now, and luck is on her side. She reacts fast, swiping it from the mat and watching it fly through the air before clattering to the ground, the faint sound reawakening her senses to the rest of the world. There’s gasps and rustling and hushed whispers. And then the exhaustion hits at full force, and she collapses into her usual post game slumber.
She only hopes Taichi had as much fun as she did.
***
She’s grateful to her friends for waking her so she can receive her award, but once the applause dies and the crowd begins to disperse, she can’t find Taichi anywhere. She tries to search a little, but gets distracted by people wanting to talk to her or congratulate her on her win. She doesn’t think to look for him until after her mom arrives, and suggests they start heading back home.
“Just give me a minute!” she tells her mom, setting her wrapped hakama aside so she can dash through the building in one last, final search.
She finds him quickly, his head bowed and shoulders slumped as he heads down a hall towards a side exit.
“Taichi!”
He stops, and then turns almost reluctantly. His expression is calm, but there’s a noticeable tension in the set of his jaw and the stiffness of his posture.
“Taichi, were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” she chastises playfully. She offers a weary smile, but he doesn’t reciprocate.
“I’ve got lots of homework. Figured if I leave quickly, I can still get some done tonight,” he says in explanation, not meeting her eyes.
Chihaya bites her lip. Taichi’s lost to her plenty of times, but this wasn’t just another practice match in the club room. This was an official tournament, and she knows from experience that these types of losses hit harder than usual. She steps closer and places her hands on his shoulders in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. He startles, but the sudden contact finally has him looking at her.
“I had so much fun today, Taichi,” she tells him. She whispers it like a confession, despite the fact they’re the only two people in the hallway. “I’m…I’m really glad we got to play together.”
“Yeah. You did good, Chihaya.” He moves as if to shrug off her hands, but she tightens her grip, fingers digging into his soft sweater.
You did good, Chihaya, he says. She’s heard those words a hundred times tonight, but he doesn't seem to understand why. He doesn’t get how the only reason she could play like that—how the only reason she won—was because it was him she was against. Because even though he played differently tonight, even though he pushed her to her limits and challenged her like no one ever has, he was still Taichi. Her best and oldest friend.
“Taichi, I've never seen someone play karuta like you did tonight,” she confesses earnestly. “If I hadn't gotten a chance to rest, I'm sure you would've won!”
He rubs a hand down the side of his face, but at least this time he doesn’t try to escape her grip. “You don't have to say these things to console me, Chihaya. I'm fine.”
“That's not why!” she protests. “I'm saying them because they're true. I think you're amazing.” She blinks, and suddenly her eyes are welling up with emotion. Despite how exhausted she is, she wants to play again. Wants to play him. Wants to see what else he’ll come up with to try and beat her.
She thinks of the way he played in that final match; strong and unshakable, filled with a determination that blazed red and bright, like chihayaburu. It’s the first time she’s ever thought of Taichi that way.
“Taichi, you’re—you—” she falters, her throat tightening unexpectedly. “Don’t you see it?”
He sighs, his long lashes fluttering closed. “What’re you even talking about?”
How can she put into words the depth of what she’s feeling? How can she explain that he really is amazing, not only for how he played tonight, but because he’s Taichi? Smart, dependable, patient Taichi? The boy who carries everyone's expectations on his shoulders but never seems to falter? The boy who tries harder than anyone she knows? The boy who built the karuta club with her, simply because she asked?
She’s never tried to name this feeling before, and the words stick in her throat. Is it admiration? Gratitude?
Something else?
When she doesn’t answer he starts to pull away, and she scrambles to pull him back to her, clutching his sleeve. She doesn’t want him to leave, not when he’s still upset like this. Not when she still hasn’t figured out what to say.
Her hands move from his shoulders to his face, cupping his cheeks so he has to keep his gaze on her.
“That was your first Class-A tournament, Taichi, and you’re going to be even more incredible next time. So…so let’s keep playing together, okay?”
It’s all she can say right now, and though Taichi sighs again, she can tell this time it isn’t out of frustration.
“Okay,” he finally agrees.
She nods, but doesn’t step away.
She's still holding Taichi's face, cradling it in her palms as she slowly brushes her thumb over his cheekbone. His skin is warm, and soft. And when she meets his eyes she sees the same expression he was watching the cards with.
Waiting. Wanting.
Something in her chest constricts. She can hear his breathing, heavy and labored, just like it was during the game. She can feel it too, his breath hot against her cheeks. She’s still not sure what it is she’s feeling, only that she wants to ease the weariness in his face, to smooth away the dull ache in his expression like erasing a smudge from a page. She moves her thumb from his cheekbone to the underside of his eye, where the skin is tender and delicate, but also darker and lined with exhaustion.
Time seems to slow, and she finds herself lost in the details of his face. The curve of his lashes, the quiet tremor in his breath, the faint color in his cheeks. He looks fragile and strong all at once, like a string pulled taut between victory and defeat.
She leans closer, as if closeness alone could tell him what she can’t seem to say. As if by seeing him more clearly, she can make him see himself the way she does.
Her hands pull his face in closer…closer…
A burst of laughter ripples down the hall, followed by the low murmur of voices and the rhythmic echo of footsteps as a group of competitors round the corner. They hardly notice her and Taichi, too caught up in their own chatter about the matches and their predictions for the upcoming queen and meijin qualifiers. Their words blur together, a soft hum of excitement that drifts past and fades, but it’s enough to break the fragile stillness that surrounded them only moments before.
Chihaya blinks at their receding figures, then turns her attention back to Taichi. He’s standing rigidly, shoulders tense, pupils blown wide in a kind of startled disbelief. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her, and she’s struck by the intensity of his amber gaze.
For a moment she simply stares at him, until clarity creeps into her mind and suddenly she’s all too aware of how close they are, and that she’s holding his face as if—
Her cheeks blaze as she quickly steps back, dropping her hands like she’s been burned.
Was she about to kiss Taichi?
She must be infinitely more exhausted than she thought.
“I've, uh, decided to go on the school trip,” she stammers, trying to quickly fill the heavy silence stretching between them. “I think I want to be a teacher, so it makes sense that I should experience a high school trip, right?”
The shift in conversation is drastic, but she needs something to chase away the tension that hangs in the air.
“That's…good,” he replies after a long moment. “I'm glad you're focusing on your future.”
“Yeah.” She nods her head, watching him without fully meeting his eyes. Maybe he didn’t realize what she’d been about to do. Or maybe her exhaustion is playing tricks on her. The more she thinks about it, the less sure she is of what actually happened.
Regardless, she needs to get going. Her mom is waiting for her.
“I’ll see you at school then?” she asks.
“Yeah. See you.”
They stand there for a moment longer before she offers a small wave and a hopefully casual smile. She turns around and half walks, half jogs back towards the main exit, her heart pounding so hard it echoes in her ears. She presses a hand to her neck, willing her pulse to slow. It’s been such a long day, and she’s too tired to think straight. Too tired to figure out what just happened.
Tomorrow she’ll think about everything else. About Taichi, about the moment in the hallway, about the strange flutter still lingering in her chest. For now, she just wants to go home, fall into bed, and let herself be happy and content.
She won after all, just like she said she would. And once she’s had some sleep, she’s sure everything else will make sense, too.