"Note that though we may be apart, if I am to hear that you pine for me as the Inaba mountain pines, I shall return to you."

The air fills with an excited chatter as the graduates spill off the stage. Chihaya pushes through the crowd, locating her family. Her father snaps a photo for the book he keeps on her in the house while her mother beams; Chitose stands around looking glamorous and moderately impressed. Chihaya then joins Kana-chan, Porky, and Desktomu-kun, whose faces are flushed a happy pink. Pride stirs in Chihaya's stomach, overtaking the butterflies; she leaves behind a small but respected karuta club, and as all the members gather for a hug, her nerves settle.

Somewhat.

And then they are separating and there is too much space around her and what am I going to do at university, panics Chihaya, when I can hardly think straight about things other than karuta?

Taichi's knuckles brush against her hairline. "Stop looking so glum."

She blinks at him, rubbing her forehead.

Chihaya knows what comes next. Taichi is going places, and she—well, she's done pretty good for herself, all things considered, but with her less than stellar grades…

There's a reason Taichi is attending a prestigious university and she isn't.

Out loud, she says, "Taichi, I'm proud of you," while tugging on his sleeve. It's soft. She distracts herself with this fact while swallowing all the words she isn't ready to say, like goodbye. Or maybe, don't go. Not again.

"I'm proud of you, too," Taichi says, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards as he takes her hand, squeezing her fingers.

"You're going to do big things, I just know it," Chihaya babbles. "And you'll probably get a nice girlfriend! I'm sure Mrs. Pressure would just love that." She laughs because Taichi is looking at her funny, and the ache in her chest isn't shrinking, it's expanding and she doesn't know what this feeling is but she wants it to stop.

"Chihaya…" Taichi peers closer at her.

"Can you promise me something, Taichi?" she blurts, suddenly desperate.

Taichi blinks. "Of course."

"Promise me you won't stop playing karuta?"

The words hang in the space between them, and she thinks of another boy, one with eyes like the ocean and fingers like a compass that always finds the right card. Another boy who left her. Another boy who she had to work so hard to bring back.

Taichi's hair falls in his face and he moves to flick her forehead, his voice thick. "Of course I won't stop," he answers, and then his mother is calling his name and he is moving past her, but not before saying, "I'll see you around, Chihaya." She barely has time to whisper a "Bye, Taichi," in response before he disappears into the crowd of milling bodies.

o.O.o

Chihaya knows Taichi hasn't really left her—they both must attend university—but her mouth still sours when she thinks back to their farewell. And she's afraid, because without Arata, without Taichi, without Kana-chan and all her karuta friends, she's back to the Chihaya of middle-school, the Chihaya who took up running alone so she wouldn't feel so lonely.

She thinks of track a lot, nowadays, and one thing in particular: the starting. There was always that moment, right before the gun fired, where she could feel her body about to move. Just a phantom sensation, a tingling everywhere as her ears strained to hear her cue.

She feels like that now—on the cusp of something, but not quite. Flailing forward.

o.O.o

She doesn't see him at the Shiranimi Karuta Society.

Granted, Chihaya doesn't go as often as she used to. University studies take up more energy than she planned, and without Desktomu-kun's guidance or Kana-chan's patience, she struggles. But Taichi has always succeeded academically. Taichi should have time, Taichi…

Taichi should be here, she thinks, fist clenching against the mat.

o.O.o

For a while, she avoids asking Harada-sensei about it. She fears his answer. She wants to hold on to this bubble of hope inside her, the one string left that still keeps her tethered.

But the thing about hope—it's both heavy and light. Chihaya walks around feeling like she has a balloon inside her, about to burst at any moment, especially when she catches a glimpse of light brown hair. A greeting rises from her until the boy—not him, not him—turns around and his name ends up stuck in her throat.

"Chihaya, is something bothering you?" Harada-sensei's voice is gentle, concerned.

The balloon in Chihaya's chest contracts slightly, enough to let her breathe easier. Enough to let her whisper, fingernails digging into her palms: "Has Taichi come by?"

Harada-sensei's eyes crinkle. "Eyelashes? Yes, he has. He's working very hard." He tilts his head. "Have you two seen each other at all?"

Chihaya shakes her head. "No," she answers, but lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

o.O.o

Tokyo is a big city. She feels that, more than ever, as she stands at the bus stop, considering.

Maybe she should drop by his house next week, for old times sake. They're friends, after all. She has every right to. And so what if his mother is at home? They're university students, now! She doesn't have to be afraid of anybody.

But what if he's too busy to see me? her mind whispers. What if he's moved on to other things? What if it isn't the same? What if, what if, what if…

Her ears prick at the sound of footsteps. She turns around to find Taichi standing before her, his crisp white shirt tucked loosely in his pants, his tie straight and neat. Her mouth feels dry.

"Chihaya." Her name falls from his lips in a breathy exhale, full of warmth. "I haven't seen you lately."

"Th-that's because…where have you been?" she stutters, pointing a finger at him.

Taichi's hand comes down in a gentle chopping motion on her head. "University is a lot of work. I have to study too, you know."

The weight of his hand on her head is familiar, reassuring. The balloon of worry pressing against her chest finally deflates. She's missed the easy way Taichi always reached out to her, ruffling her hair, patting her head, tugging her along.

"Does Mrs. Pressure still get on your case, or is it better now that we're pretty much adults?" asks Chihaya.

Taichi smiles and shakes his head. "You're still scared of my mom, huh?"

Chihaya makes a face and shivers. "Always will be. Maybe if she didn't hate me so much…"

"She doesn't hate you."

"Yes she does!"

"Well, I don't," Taichi says, his voice going soft at the edges, and Chihaya looks down at her feet, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her heart squeezing out a silent message: I missed you. They stand beside each other, quiet, before Taichi glances at his watch. "The train should be here soon. You coming?"

Chihaya nods and starts forward to walk with him, but her toe catches on something and she stumbles. In a flash, Taichi's arm reaches out, righting her before she has time to think.

His hand is warm around her wrist. She blinks, memories zooming across her mind's eye, all the other times Taichi has caught her: on his stairs, when she passed out, every inconvenient place she falls asleep. Her breath feels suspended as she regards him and his honeyed eyes, the hair falling in his face, the furrow between his eyebrows. She has a feeling that if she dug through old photos, she would find him making the same expression. It amazes her how little has changed; they could be standing in the school hallway or walking home after school and it would be the same, the two of them.

With Arata, Chihaya had to reenter his life in a whirlwind of skinned knees and muddy clothes. But reuniting with Taichi is effortless, like two streams destined to bleed into the same river.

The red that is the Tatsuta River, she thinks, because her mind never fails to associate things with karuta.

"Chihaya?" Taichi says, concerned. "You're spacing out."

Chihaya can feel happy tears beginning to well up in her eyes, and she launches herself forwards, trusting—knowing—Taichi will catch her.

"T-Taichi!" she buries her face in the white cotton of his shirt, overflowing with gratitude and happiness and relief. "I'm so glad you're back!"

Taichi returns her hug tentatively, awkwardly, and Chihaya thinks: that's familiar, too. She remembers sliding open the window at the Shiranami Karuta Society and embracing him then. He feels the same, the Taichi she has always known, and she basks in it: his warmth, his solidity, his scent.

It's as if he's never left.

A/N: I think I need an intervention because I can't stop writing for this pairing.