Disclaimer: I don't own Kurobas or Chiyahafuru (it's a great manga/anime series, go check it out!).
This story came to me and I couldn't contain myself. It would've been longer if I had more than two hours to pull it together, but I have exams coming up soon :'(
Enjoy!
If Momoi Satsuki loved two things more than anything – it was basketball and karuta. Her grandmother had been the Queen in her youth once – but lost her title only two years after she'd gained it, and hadn't the motivation to work at it any longer.
She couldn't deny she was drawn to basketball because of Daiki – he'd always held a spot within her that she couldn't get him to let go of. For him she stood and watched and waited for years on end, watching match after match, crying and laughing and swearing along with the team, even though the game itself was leaps and bounds from her reach.
With karuta, it was different. It didn't matter that she wasn't a boy – it didn't matter that she had big boobs and long hair and a pretty face. No – all that mattered was the poetry, the swift swipe of her swing, the snatch of her favourite cards.
The first time she won a Class D tournament – she was six, and it was the day her grandmother agreed to be her mentor.
2009
"Why aren't you watching our match again?" Daiki drawled, over the receiver.
"I have a tournament, stupid," scoffed Satsuki, hurrying to brush out her long hair, phone pinched between her shoulder and cheek as she raced around the room, gathering her things.
"Eh… for what?" came his uninterested tones.
"Are you serious? – Ugh, never mind Dai-chan! I've given Akashi-kun the data, so today's game should mean a win for Teiko."
"But-"
"I'm going to be late, I'll call you after my matches!"
She knew she'd probably fall asleep on the train and end up in Nagoya again – but she had money on her in case of an emergency anyway. Without a second glance, she hung up and hurried to throw her sweatbands into her bag.
"I'm off, mum!" she yelled, bounding down the stairs and darting out of the front door as fast as her feet could carry her.
It wasn't long before she made it to the cultural centre – and she felt the knot forming at the pit of her stomach as she darted to the other members of her karuta society.
"Momoi-san!" exclaimed the director, Hokkaido Yoko, "You're running late! Your match is about to start, hurry – yes, I have your chocolate – here, I'll take your bag, now go!"
She darted in to the silent room and flopped down before her opponent, breathing heavily. Familiar faces looked up and nodded at her appearance – the other members of Class B used to the sight of the late teen.
Soon the fifteen minute memorisation period was over – and the reader began.
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – this time, I can do it!
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
The room froze, players tensing, coiling – ready to strike at the first syllable of the first card.
"…ne-"
The sound of hands slapping tatami mats, a muted thump to anyone beyond the room.
"It's okay, Suki-chan! There's always next year-"
"Imayoshi-san is two years older than you-"
"You did well, child-"
She vowed that one day she would avenge her loss, and beat Imayoshi Shoichi once she claimed the spot in Class A that he had stolen from her.
2013
"It's her – it's the girl that was the runner up in the Western qualifier!"
"She's so beautiful..."
"Those boobs have got to be at least an E-cup!"
They're an F, actually, Satsuki wanted to rub it in their faces, but she spared the other karuta players no heed as she breezed through the room, eyes set on the table where the first matches were being assigned. Before long she was looking down on her name – and right below it, Kise Ryouta.
She smirked and spun on her heel, flipping her hair over her shoulder. It would be her to win the tournament, and no one was going to steal first place from her. She'd practiced relentlessly over the past four years, with no basketball to distract her (and no friends, either, but that didn't bother her so much).
Putting on her hakama was an easy feat for her – as was knotting her hair in a high bun. She'd done it countless times – enough that she was confident in her abilities to do it all with her eyes closed (though she didn't – in case she messed something up).
With a sigh she kneeled on the floor and began practicing her swings, ignoring the stares of the other competitors. Tokyo was busier than she remembered it to be – her Master had only agreed to teach her at a beachside town called Iwatobi, and it was quiet enough there to play a whole match with the windows open (the sound of the waves were relaxing, too).
"Class A – line up, please!" she heard someone call from the entrance hall.
Without a word, she stood and glided to the door, emotionless as she steeled herself, going through all the data she'd gathered on Kise's playing over the past five years (because even though they hadn't seen her once, she'd been watching the matches put online by members of Kise's fan club).
She walked through the entrance call, and a blur of colour stained her peripherals (but she refused to turn, because if she did, she knew she wouldn't look away). And she heard them – Aomine's shout, a few gasps (and she was sure she heard Akashi swear), but she acted as though they meant nothing to her (because they didn't – not really), and continued on to the door – but not before she heard Atsushi say, "Go easy on her, Ki-chin. She'll quit again…"
It made her angry that they thought she was so fragile, despite their last meeting (and everything that had happened since then). She paused in the doorway, hakama smelling faintly of sakura flowers, regal and cold (in what she hoped was the best sense), and said, "No," loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
She knew they'd heard, and she hoped they'd listen.
Satsuki wanted to destroy them when they were trying their hardest, which was quite sadistic when she properly thought about it (but she was only returning the favour, after all).
"Eh, Satsuki? You want us to try karuta?"
She nodded, pony tail bopping frantically – she'd seen them crumbling, seen the joy fade off their faces as they progressed through their second year at Teiko.
"Just – give it a try, please!" she spun to face the others, and bowed as low as she could, "Please!"
And when they'd agreed, she'd showed them how to play, and taught them how to memorise.
Their grades rose, their teamwork soared – and all was well.
She sat opposite Kise, analysing the layout of his cards (she'd memorised them the moment he set them down), seeking out the cards she was going to take and accepting the loss of the few she knew he'd reach before her. Off to the side knelt Kuroko and Midorima – left to watch the first round in the case of their byes.
Despite feeling eyes on her back, Satsuki remained calm – in her mind, the only person opposite her was her grandmother, and the room she sat in was the living room. She could almost hear the soft bubbling of the kettle; smell the fresh soup simmering on the stove.
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – one card at a time.
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
She heard the sound before the word was formed, and her hand swung forth and swiped the card from right in front of him. The golden glint of his eyes – fear.
"Let's start a team!" she said suddenly, turning to walk backwards so she could see all of them, "You're all really good at it already, and I can help with whatever you need-"
"Let's do it," the quiet exclamation came from Kuroko. Blue met pink – and she knew he understood what she was trying to do.
"We can compete in the tournament coming up," she hurried to say, noting the look on their faces, "We'll be the best in Japan!"
And they'd said yes, and she started training them harder than ever.
"Thank you very much," she bowed to her opponent before shifting to face the reader, "thank you very much."
And she stood and left him gaping (she'd won by a margin of 22 cards), and she felt no remorse at destroying his chances at advancing in the final.
She headed to an adjoining room where her bag was kept, and ate a bar of chocolate in silence (telling herself that she'd burn off the calories in her next match), practicing her swing as she did so. If she hadn't known him so well, she would have missed the silent opening and closing of the door – but of course, she was expecting him.
"Leave, please," she said, because she knew that his presence would drive a sharp wedge into her chest, and she didn't need the distraction.
But he sat opposite her, and watched her movements in silence.
"Good job, Ki-chan! But keep your guard lower, if Dai-chan was a moment faster, he'd have slipped beneath your cover!"
"Thanks, Momoicchi!"
"Dai-chan, don't slouch! Wait – but don't tense! When you tense, your body uses time un-tensing when it should be striking already!"
"You're so annoying, Satsuki."
"Mukkun, you have to act as though the cards are candy – do you want someone else stealing them?"
"They're mine!"
"Midorin, you should play with your bandaged hand – the accuracy you need to hit the cards right will help with your shooting."
"I'm still playing with the bandages on."
"Tetsu-kun, make sure you slam the card away. If your opponent doesn't realise you're there and they try to hit it, they'll end up injuring you!"
"Yes, Momoi-san."
"Akashi-kun… your stance is good. So is your speed… but you need to stop remembering the cards from the last match or you'll make too many faults."
"I'm familiar with this game, Momoi-san. I've played it with my uncle several times."
Kuroko stood, and walked out of the room (Satsuki liked to pretend that his indifference didn't bother her).
Her next match was against Murasakibara. He dwarfed her as they sat opposite, arms long enough to reach her side of the mat without leaning forward.
His size wouldn't help him (Momoi knew his weaknesses, and how to fire him into making mistakes).
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – listen. Be ready.
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
"We won! We're the best team in Tokyo!" cried Kise, bounding up and down in excitement.
Satsuki smiled then – because it was the first time she ever felt truly part of a team. And even though she still stood on the sidelines for basketball, it didn't matter all too much.
Because in karuta, she felt like she was important to her team for once.
"Thank you very much," she bowed to the giant before shuffling to face the reader, "thank you very much."
And ignoring the whispers of, "There hasn't even been twenty-five cards read yet!" and "She got the perfect score and managed to make him cause two faults?" and "Amazing!", she stood and swept out of the room, ignoring the eyes on her back (she won 27-0, so it was no surprise).
In her wait, she retreated to the room and munched on another chocolate bar, knee tapping anxiously (she hadn't hoped her victory against Atsushi would come so swiftly).
The door rolled open, and an unmistakable presence entered in to the room.
"Ah," she tried not to shudder as his glasses glinted on the edge of her vision, "You're right where I hoped you'd be."
She didn't reply to him (because she knew he was an even bigger sadist than she was), instead continuing to practice her swipes at the air again and again.
"You won't win this," he yawned, taking the seat opposite her lazily, "I'm participating, after all," (she convinced herself that the chills sent down her spine at his words were of disgust).
"Did you know Aomine-kun attends my school?"
She did, but she didn't tell him so (because he knew she knew already).
"I've been training him, you know," (she knew that, too), "He wants to live up to his promise to you and become Master. Too bad he'll never beat me."
Too bad you'll never beat me, she wanted to sneer, but she remained silent, knowing it would irk him more than her voice ever could.
"The next round is starting soon, Momoi-san. Hopefully we'll meet each other before the finals."
She hoped they would too, so she could crush him before he got the chance to be runner up.
"I did it!" she cried, half a laugh tearing out of her throat around a sob as she shook the paper in their faces, "I made it to Class A!"
They threw a party and played karuta all night, vowing to try their best in the national tournament coming up.
Her childhood friend was her next opponent.
Daiki sat opposite her, stone faced and uncaring as he always seemed to be towards her (even before they stopped being friends). She supposed he were going into the zone, and she wanted to smile knowing that nothing he did would save him.
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – be as swift as a coursing river.
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
"We're up against a high school next! Touou academy," said Aomine, frowning at their line-up before looking to Akashi for his order.
"We'll go with the usual placement. Me, Kuroko, Momoi, Midorima and you."
And Satsuki knew she was going up against the boy who beat her in the Class A tournament, and she wanted revenge more than she could vocalise at the time.
They thanked each other before the game, and waited on bated breath for the first poem to be read.
"Thank you very much," she bowed to her opponent (telling herself over and over that the explosion of pain in her chest was from the two bars of chocolate she scoffed down) before shuffling to face the reader, "thank you very much."
She stood and stared down at him for a moment, wondering if he'd ever cried at a karuta loss before. Deciding that she didn't need to be wondering about his emotional state (because it wasn't her responsibility anymore – it really wasn't), she spun and strode from the room, feeling eyes on her back, but not turning to see what fools had time to break their concentration to watch her.
She retreated to the relaxation room and took solace in yet another bar of chocolate, wondering if the shaking was from the slap of hands against the tatami mats – or her. Even the consolidation of a solid win in which Aomine took five cards in total, her chest ached (though not as much as it had on that day).
No one came to visit, and she was thankful for once (because she didn't think the trails on her cheeks had anything to do with her sore knees), taking the time to practice her swing over and over until she was calm again.
Her next game was against a nobody (anyone who wasn't a threat felt like a nobody in her ocean of data), and she dominated the game, winning with a perfect score.
Another bar of chocolate, a hundred more practice swings – and she was set to face Midorima.
They sat opposite each other, and Satsuki could see Takao holding up a sign in blaring orange and green out of the corner of her eye.
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – precision is the key.
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
She lost to him by 6 cards, and it was that game that signalled her downfall.
"Rest up, Momoicchi! We'll play until you feel better" – even though she wasn't sick in the first place.
"That was a narrow win for us, Momoi-san. You were meant to be a foolproof win – but it seems the responsibility is too great."
And the others had patted her on the head like a pet and told her she was doing well – but she knew they were disappointed, because all four of the other Teiko members had won their games against experienced players.
They left the tournament with first place – and Satsuki threw herself into training her team to make up for her guilt at losing the match they'd been expecting her to dominate.
"Thank you very much," she bowed to her opponent (trying to ignore the way his un-bandaged fingers clenched tightly in his lap), "thank you very much," she bowed to the reader and stood, staring down at the outcome of their match.
He'd only managed to deplete his card count to 19 before she erased hers to 0 (she told herself the churning in her belly was satisfaction).
Another break, another bar, another hundred and fifty practice swings before her next match.
Kuroko was already kneeling on the tatami when she arrived (but she ignored his imploring blue eyes, and focused on the new slate of cards before her.
For a moment she was melancholy – because Tetsu had been the one to help her from the start – but she knew his loss was necessary in her path to victory – her path to becoming royalty.
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – show no mercy.
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
"Yes! Another national tournament – this year we'll win it for sure!" Satsuki cheered as they walked into the Omi jingu, learning centre.
Their first match – against Touou – and she was the only one to lose – to Imayoshi again.
"Momoi," said Akashi, his voice low as they organised the line-up for the next round, "we're not playing you."
Her heart stopped – but she nodded because she was too scared not to.
But the next match she didn't play – nor the one after that.
She stayed quiet until the grand final – where all were playing aside from Murasakibara and her.
"Akashi-kun!" her outburst sounded as he completed writing the others' names on the sheet, "Please let me play!"
He set his dark eyes on her and shook his head, "Sorry, Momoi-san," and his tone dared her to oppose him.
But he underestimated her love for karuta, because she stood as Kise made to hand in the form and cried, "Please! I've worked hard – and only played in one match today-"
"Satsuki," said Aomine, a warning in his tone.
"I've been playing my whole life to get to win a tournament as great as this – please just-"
"Satsuki!" louder, then.
"I don't want to be pushed to the side anymore! I want to be part of this team-"
"Can't you see you're not good enough?" Daiki's shout resonated through the room.
The others looked away, heads bowed, arms crossed.
Her fists shook as she stared up at her childhood friend, eyes wide.
"How – How can you say that? I taught you! I've been playing this my whole life! Who do you think you are to come in and tell me I can't play in the match I worked so hard to get us to-"
"We don't need you to win," it was Akashi that spoke, cold and clear and echoingly loud in the large, empty room.
"But-"
"The line-up is final. Deal with it," grunted Aomine, turning away.
For a moment nothing was said.
"Aren't any of you going to say anything?" her voice shook, but everyone remained still. But it didn't take long for the heartbroken look on Satsuki's face to morph into rage, and her fists clenched as she yelled, "I've had enough! I quit!"
Her exit was cut off as Midorima blocked the doorway, "No you don't."
"Yes. I. Do," she glared up at him, jaw taut, "I quit karuta. I quit being the manager of this godforsaken team," she cast a glare over her shoulder at the others, "have fun playing basketball, boys. Razukan," she spat the school name out as though it were poison, "will be glad to have all of you."
"You can't run away from this, Satsuki!" Aomine snarled before she could leave the room.
She took a moment to breathe – to calm herself enough to speak without trembling, "Have fun in Tokyo, Aomine-kun. I'm sure it'll be enjoyable with your victorious team."
And she ignored Kuroko's gentle hand on her shoulder, ignored the way it fell limp at his side as she walked away without looking back.
"Thank you very much," she bowed to her opponent before shuffling to face the reader, "thank you very much."
And she stood, staring down at the defeated boy (telling herself the hitch in her stare was pity, not remorse) before she stalked out of the room, ignoring the glares sent from the observing Seirin team.
A solid 17 card triumph, another bar of chocolate, 200 practice swings before her next match – Akashi.
And the nervousness she should have felt was absent, because she knew that he had the emperor eye, but she also knew she loved karuta so much more, she knew she'd trained years more than him.
She was going to destroy the head of the Generation of Miracles without surrendering a single card.
She passed them – her defeated opposition – as she made her way to her place on the tatami, only two other players lining up (Imayoshi and a girl from Josei). Their eyes followed her – the swish of her hakama, the slope of her neck and the hint of a smirk on her lips.
Once opposite Akashi, their cards were set, and it took her moments to memorise them. When she was done, she let her mind wander – wondering what Imayoshi was thinking behind her, wondering if Seirin stayed to watch her win again.
And then, finally;
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – accuracy is important, speed is necessary, defence is essential, risks are to be taken.
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
Her grandmother had a stroke, and Satsuki found a new mentor in Iwatobi.
Hours and hours, days and days – hands smashing the tatami, knees burning, back aching.
Millions of practice swings, fitness training, playing previous Masters until her opponents couldn't detain her.
Years and years of poetry, rolling through her mind – she learnt to identify sounds before syllables.
Years and years of swipes – she could see every motion as though it were moving slow – she could manoeuvre her fingers and hand around defences, into openings.
Years and years of loss – death of her grandmother and father, absence of friends, losses to previous Masters, to Class A players, to her own Master – until one day, the losses came no more.
"Thank you very much," she ignored his astonished expression (and hoped against hope that his glistening eyes weren't spilled yet), she bowed to the reader; "thank you very much."
And to be polite she sat opposite her stunned opponent, waiting patiently for Imayoshi to defeat his opponent before the grand finale.
No more chocolate, no more practice swings – just an empty room, a book of statistics, and a determined young woman, no longer in her hakama.
"Master…?" she asked, voice small, "Why do you travel all the way from Tokyo to teach me? Why did I have to move to Iwatobi? Wouldn't it have been easier if I just-"
"Doing what's easy and doing what's best are two different things, Momoi-san," said her Master, smiling jovially, "now I'll play you when I'm blind as a bat, and hopefully you'll be able to take a few cards from me this time-"
"You speak as though I haven't come within a few cards of beating you before!"
"Ah, but have you ever beaten me, Momoi-san?"
"…No…"
"I rest my case."
And finally she was facing her new Master on the mat – facing his smile and his stupidly rectangular framed glasses (she told herself the disastrous pounding in her chest wasn't from the way his eyes shone with pride as he noted her card placement).
She'd played countless matches against him in her hakama (she made a point of never playing without wearing one), and she'd never beaten him. But years ago – she'd made a vow, and she decided that she would live up to it in their final match.
"Master," she bowed to him before the reader was to begin.
"Naniwa Bay, now the flower blooms, but for winter…"
Satsuki took a deep breath – and looked to the crowd of onlookers. She found them then, and set her stare to Aomine. 'Watch me,' she mouthed (the strangest swell of emotion curdling in her throat as he smiled through his tears and nodded).
"Here comes spring, now the flower blooms…"
"Go out with me, Momoi-san."
She looked up from where she was collecting the cards off the floor after an intense match. Her gaze was drawn to her Master, stunned, "Wh-What?"
"I… I want to date you."
For once he wasn't smiling, eyes solemn behind the lenses of his glasses.
"You're the most… you… I…" he fumbled over his words before he got out, "I've noticed you since that first competition! The first time we met, years ago!"
Satsuki kept staring, wide eyed as the words spilled from his lips.
"You were so beautiful. And then I watched a basketball match and all I could hear was people talking about you – about your data gathering. And you were smart and beautiful and so painfully unattainable – that when you asked me to be your Master, I couldn't believe it. But you were sad and I saw that…" he paused then, looking out through the screen doors to the ocean. "And I was so greedy."
Satsuki sat back on her heels and watched him, waiting.
"So I told you to come here because I didn't want anyone else to have you – or to hurt you. So please," he shuffled to face her on his knees and bowed until his forehead touched the tatami mat, "give me a chance!"
She paused then – and said, "Beat me in the tournament and I'll let you take me on a date," (because after all the years they spent alone together in her little apartment, she wanted to show him who was boss).
And their tears mingled on the tatami as they bowed to each other, "Thank you very much!"
They remained bowed for a while, both sobbing – both too overwhelmed to stand.
And even though she'd finally beaten him, Satsuki felt no satisfaction. All the years she spent in his shadow – in the shadow of the Generation of Miracles – were fading in to the background, and the only moment that existed was when she'd sought the final card and the end of the verse was read.
She wondered what her fate would have been if she'd beaten him before her team had fallen apart – before she broke away and began the shattering of the Teiko team until they all went to different schools.
But she sat up to find her Master's tears were different to her own – he was happy for his student – and crushed because his one chance to win her over was gone.
The presentation was over, and the people in the room were dispersing gradually.
"Momoi," his voice broke, "I didn't know you were so fast."
She offered a watery smile and shrugged, "The hakama was slowing me down – but I didn't want you to know that!" a small chuckle, a glance to the heavens, "I've got grandma to thank for that tip."
Her eyes caught the group still lingering in the corner, and she smiled (despite herself).
"Shoichi?" the smile in her tone caught him off guard.
"Yes, Satsuki?"
She looked up at him and grinned, "So about this date I'm choosing – I was thinking maybe we could go to a theme park, or a festival or…"
But her voice fell upon deaf ears (she was sure Shoichi was going to faint), and so she stopped talking to give him a moment to recover.
As the champion and runner-up were leaving, a shaky voice called out, "Captain! S-Satsuki!"
She spared a glance to her right, watching the six of them cautiously.
"Congratulations. You deserve it," (and even though it was selfish, Satsuki thought he was speaking directly to her).
She nodded (and fought back a smile) before she said, "Thanks. We'll play some time, yeah?"
And she strode out of the room (she was proud to say she didn't look back), ready to head back to her home in Iwatobi to practice her heart out for the upcoming Queen match. All was well.
Still, after all the time she spent away and alone, Momoi Satsuki didn't love anything in the world as much as karuta and basketball (well… not so much the game as the people playing the game).