Disclaimers apply.
Reading poetry was akin to kissing. When the words come together in a reader's head—or on their lips. Each syllable is savored and becomes special; any lesser feelings make it like an empty kiss. It is how you say it—how you mean it. A hundred poems, a hundred kisses—at least that's a romantic's way of seeing it. And Chihaya isn't what you would call a romantic. Or at least that's what everyone would like to think.
Chihaya is slow but she is getting there. Why rush when you will get there eventually?
And she gets there. And it is by getting there you revel in the journey and she can't help but let the tears roll down her face. At eighteen on this January day, Chihaya Ayase becomes the Queen of the karuta world. It is a glorious moment, not just for her but also for everyone. Her feelings seem to be contagious, for everyone is in tears. Harada is sobbing like a baby. Tsukue, Kana, and Nikuman are huddled together with the Empress embracing them, all undone by emotions. Taichi is hiding his face behind his sleeves while Sumire and Tsukuba who are recording will no doubt have shaky footage. Everyone is in the moment. Her parents, her sister, friends, teachers, rivals, spectators—Chihaya thinks the room cannot contain the overflow of emotions.
In her proudest moment, she looks to the crowd, her tearful eyes desperately searching for someone.
Her joy is still there—but her heart drops.
He is not there.
She knows he is avoiding her.
No replies, no calls.
Chihaya's heart clenches. It has been a week. A part of her thinks she should bid her time, but the other does not have the patience to wait another day. His absence had always left a gaping hole—but not seeing him that day, at that moment, enlarged it completely.
She is curled in her bed, Daddy bear consoling her, when the ring of her cell springs her up. She grabs it and puts it on her ear, not bothering to check the ID. Her anticipation chokes her but she manages a greeting.
"Hello!"
For a while, there is no reply.
But then finally…
"Chihaya…"
She meets Taichi at the train station at his request. As he greets her, Chihaya can't help but marvel at how he has come a long way. Qualifying as a Meijin challenger was a feat! And despite not being able to beat Suo, his roots in the karuta world only deepened.
They sit at a bench by a vending machine and naturally the topic begins with karuta. Chihaya, for the nth time, recaps the events of his match without a beat. She is like a sportscaster with her card-by-card account. For the nth time, she points out his mistakes that cost him his would be-victory. It was such a close match but Taichi had lost by 4 cards.
She is rambling excitedly and Taichi just sits and listens quietly, a nod or two. And just when Chihaya is about to rehash another event for the nth time, Taichi, for the first time, tells her "Chihaya, I love you."
Chihaya shuts up.
Taichi folds his arms and looks away.
He only says it once but his words echo inside her head, as if he were repeating it again and again. Then suddenly the words begin to sound different, it becomes more accented…more Fukui. Her tears well up and the image of Arata conjures up. Arata, after his loss to Harada, on the tatami, looking at her and declaring the same words as Taichi just now…her minds goes haywire with images of him…his face so bright as if he had won the match and the certainty in his blue eyes, behind his slipping glasses. I love you, Chihaya.
She suddenly remembers her epiphany at the hospital. I'll always love karuta…and I'll always love Arata. The words still ring true. The tears intensify and she is ashamed of herself because Taichi is here, baring his heart out and she can only break it. And it is not fair because he does not deserve it.
She can only say sorry. So many apologies to one of the greatest friends who stuck by her side and supported her all this time. Taichi just sits there, without a word.
Finally, when her crying starts to tire her out, Taichi stands and fishes something from his pocket. Chihaya looks at him wonderingly when he takes her hand and folds it over a piece of paper.
"This is Arata's dorm and university. Go see him, Chihaya." His face is expressionless but he breaks into a smile that seemed to hold all his strength when he says, "I wish I had told you sooner, at the start…that way…it would not have been as painful."
He takes a deep breath then sighs.
"Take the train and be careful. I'll be waiting with Kana and the others. We'll play karuta just as always. Do your best and don't feel sorry for me."
Chihaya always had a rough edge. She has given Taichi a few kicks in the past—a judo toss even—but this is a first for her.
She slaps Arata straight across, like a karuta cross hand, swift and sure…and painful.
This is her greeting and the effect pleases her.
Arata is in disbelief, his cheek stings, confirming the reality of the situation. His classmates shrink away into obscurity and onlookers watch with interest.
"Chihaya…!"
Despite being the taller one, Chihaya seems to tower over him, and Arata is in awe and in fear at the viciousness of her face, the same concentrated face she used to make in a match before she learned to school her features.
She is breathing hard, her hair in disarray. But what he notices the most are the tear streaks trailing her cheeks. He feels a lump in his throat.
One of Arata's classmates fearfully speaks up from behind him. "A-Arata…is she your girlfriend? Do you know her?" The question makes him remember that they are still on campus grounds. He looks apologetically at them and bows his head. "Sorry, I have to go."
At that, he bravely takes Chihaya's wrist and leads her away from the unnecessary attention. For a moment, he is scared that she will break away. But she follows him without a fight.
Arata knows better of course.
She is saving it up.
It is when they reach his dormitory that Arata can taste something metallic. He traces his lips with his fingers and confirms his suspicion of a cut lip. He will have to take care of it later because Chihaya is the priority.
It's quiet.
His room is small, enough for one person. There is a futon rolled up in a corner, a small writing desk with a lamp and a small door that leads to a modest bathroom. There are personal items all around—books, clothes, shoes, and the like. He does not own a lot and Arata is suddenly self-conscious of the fashionable Tokyo girl standing in his scarcity.
Her back is turned, so he cannot gauge her reactions.
Arata can feel the tension and he can hear his heartbeat bouncing around the walls. It is then he notices Chihaya shaking. Then—a sob.
"Why? Why didn't you come and see me?"
Guilt and shame engulfs him. He knows what she means and he knows the answer. But he cannot bring himself to say it. His lips start to crack from the blood. She turns to him. And her words come with anguish.
"Where were you in my match? You should have been there! You know how much it meant to me, yet you— I needed you!"
His mouth twitches and he feels like a little boy again. He is unable to look her in the eye.
"Didn't you mean it?" She continues, her pitch escalating, "what you said that time. I thought you did!"
Something snaps.
Arata moves forward and grabs Chihaya's shoulders, turning her to face him. The words suddenly come easy and he looks at her, almost incredulously for doubting his feelings.
"Of course I do! I wanted so desperately to watch you play Shinobu! I wanted to see you become queen! No one could want that any more than me! It was our dream!"
His shoulders shake and he grits his teeth—but he goes on because she needs to know.
"I was ashamed Chihaya. I didn't become Meijin. I didn't even qualify to face him…it was Taichi. I didn't hold up to my end of the bargain. I regretted not seeing you…but I just didn't have the guts to look at you that time. I just… I felt like I failed you."
There is a crack in his voice…like heartbreak.
And when that has been said, his hands loosen and he drops his arms. Chihaya stares at him, completely taken aback by this revelation. There is nothing but silence between them. Arata is…she cannot describe. But she notes his framed blue eyes drained of their color and the painful purse of his lips. He is trembling too. His emotions seem like a raging river, destroying his composure. Chihaya looks at him and everything finally comes together for her.
Arata speaks again, and there is a defeated note in his Fukui accent.
"I'm sorry you had to come all the way here, Chihaya. It's pretty pathetic, isn't it? I sound like a sore loser but I—"
Arata could never finish his sentence. In fact he forgets how it could be completed when he feels the softness of her lips. His lips are chapped and there is still the taste of blood—but this was Arata. And for Chihaya, how could it be any better than this?
Reading poetry was akin to kissing. When the words come together in a reader's head—or on their lips. Each syllable is savored and becomes special; any lesser feelings make it like an empty kiss. It is how you say it—how you mean it. A hundred poems, a hundred kisses—and Chihaya's one kiss was like a hundred.
End.