A/N: Here I am again! I was just going to leave the story there, but some wonderful people left reviews or favorited (or followed, which made me feel bad about not making it clear that I was ending it there) and after the manga was updated again... well... let's just say I went back into Chihayafuru mode. I even started a sideblog on tumblr: chihayafurufeelings. If you ever want to commiserate, or celebrate, or just generally geek out about Chihayafuru with me, please drop me a message. The last two chapters of the manga also really made me want to write an Arata story (that blush, AAAAH!) but I can't think how to start one. One day... (Sorry, exclusive Taichi-fans. I love both! It's the weirdest feeling.)

I hope you enjoy, and if you enjoyed and would be kind enough to drop me a review it would make me really happy. Have a wonderful day!

Taichi

For days after the kiss, Taichi's body felt hot in all the places Chihaya had touched him. He felt the ghost tingle of her lips against his, silky hair against his neck and sliding under his palms, firm hands on his waist, soft body against his—

He was still waiting to wake up.

They didn't tell the others in the end. Chihaya's medical problem was news enough, and summer break started soon after. The few days they did spend together before school ended were awkward, with Taichi watching his friend—girlfriend?—apprehensively, waiting for her to back out, and Chihaya unable to look at him without blushing. Taichi couldn't tell if this new bashfulness was a sign of budding love or deep regret, and he gave her space in case it was the latter.

Whenever he asked if she was okay she said she was, and one time she slid her hand over the desk to bump against his. She left it there, and he allowed himself to think that maybe she didn't regret accepting his confession.

That was the situation before her surgery. After the surgery, a loopy Chihaya seemed happy to see him when he visited, though she didn't do much more than hold his hand and mumble about karuta. It was endearing, and if Taichi hadn't been so scared of losing her he would have been able to enjoy the experience wholeheartedly; instead he kept thinking about Arata, and how much better he'd be for her. He wouldn't waste precious time worrying about Taichi if Chihaya was holding his hand.

"Hey," she slurred at one point, her bandaged-up hand coming to poke at his face. He swept it away gently, fairly sure poking wasn't on the list of approved exercises. "No frowning."

He tried to blink away the furrow between his brows. "Better?"

"Mm."

A few days later the whole karuta club visited her, and on the way home Kanade pulled him aside.

"Is something different? Between you and Ayase-san?"

Hope fluttered in his chest. "I think so."

"You think?" Her little nose was scrunched up, and she stopped walking. Taichi stopped, too, moving out of the way of other pedestrians.

"She… accepted my confession," he said. "But I'm not sure—"

"She what? And you're still—you're still—like that?"

Taichi's eyes flew open. The disgust was evident in Kanade's voice, but he wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve it. "I don't want to push her—"

Kanade grabbed his elbow, pulling him more firmly out of the way and angling her face to his. "She's never done this before," she hissed. "You have to behave like a proper boyfriend! Not lurk around corners! What if Arata confesses too?"

"That's the problem. I need to be ready to move aside—"

She conked him on the side of the head with her fist, her lips pursed tightly. "Wrong! You have to be so good that by the time he confesses, she'll be too in love with you to hear him."

That's not possible, he thought. You haven't seen them together. You haven't seen the way she looks at him.

But maybe it was worth trying.

"Tomorrow," she said, "You go to the hospital. And you help her write those poems, and you play games, and you make sure she isn't bored for a second because if she is you're failing your job. Okay?"

He nodded and moved back, waiting for more scolding—but it never came. Instead Kanade cracked a smile.

"I'm really happy for you," she said.

The next day he did as Kanade had commanded, heading out to visit Chihaya at the hospital late morning. She was staring up at the ceiling in her hospital room when he came in, her face bored. She shot up straight when she saw him.

"Taichi? What are you doing here?"

He flicked her forehead. "Is that any way to greet someone who spent all evening yesterday thinking of ways to entertain you?"

Her eyes widened. "Really? You mean it?"

She was too cute, all large eyes and kid-like hope. How bored had she been?

"Yeah," he said softly. "I mean it."

Apparently it had been the right thing to do. Chihaya's face got back its color as they played games, though Taichi went pale when he was reading one of the poems she'd written. Most of them were horrible—they worked on fixing those—but the one that caught his eye was actually decent.

It was also about Arata. It didn't mention him, but it had to be:

Inside a room isolated/from the summer heat,/I feel bliss/upon hearing your words.

He wasn't sure it meant anything. With Chihaya, it could always be about karuta—and she didn't look embarrassed when he read it. He hoped she hadn't simply forgotten they were meant to be dating.

"That one's okay?" she asked, when they'd finished with the awful poem about ice cream. She was nodding at Arata's poem.

Taichi nodded. "Arata?"

She ducked her head, blushing. "Yes. I asked him how he stays so calm during his matches. He said—he said he always goes back to that room, in his old house, where all of us played together."

Taichi tried to remember the old apartment, with the water stained windowsills and the ineffective space heater and all the laundry hanging up for all to see. It was always dark there, but that hadn't mattered. He remembered the bright orange sunsets half visible from the window.

"Is that where you go?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not before this. Maybe, now…"

He nodded. He knew how much that place meant to Chihaya, even if it was a mixed bag for him. It wasn't like he blamed Arata for coming into their lives—if anything, it was a much-needed wake-up call—but even if it had been useful for Taichi's personal development, he didn't exactly savor the memory of doubting himself for the first time.

"Can we be done?" Chihaya asked, a whine in her voice as she held up the sheet of poems. She waved it in the air in front of him, breaking through the dense cloud of thoughts.

"Sure," he said, wracking his brain for another activity.

They ended up playing games until it was time for Taichi to leave, but when he started to pack his things, Chihaya grabbed his wrist. Her cheeks were flushed.

"Thank you, Taichi. I had a really nice day."

For a short moment, she held his gaze with strange intensity. He blinked, and the moment was gone: Chihaya was looking away and fidgeting, the poster child for nervousness. He let out a breath, his chest tight.

"It's what a boyfriend should do," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He peeked at her from under his lashes, noticing the way she jumped and blushed.

"I wondered…" she began, still looking away.

"What?"

"If you still wanted…"

His stomach was tied in an uncomfortable knot. "Are you backing out?"

"No!" Her dark eyes met his. "Not at all! But you haven't… you know. Kissed me, or done anything, since then."

A flash of heat went through his body as he considered the possibility that she'd been expecting—wanting?—him to do something. God, he'd wanted to do something, but he didn't want to act like some pervert. Chihaya was so innocent when it came to romance; she deserved someone who knew what he was doing, who knew how to make things less scary.

Taichi knew what he was doing up to a point, but he was scared too. He'd wanted this for so long; he didn't want to mess it up by going too fast.

It was time to stop being scared.

He swept up her bandaged hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckle, then looked at her over her wrist.

"So I can kiss you, if I want?" he asked.

She ducked her head in a nod, then peeked up at him. "And we'll… spend time together? After I get out? I could come over."

Taichi cleared his throat, not wanting to squeak his answer. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound confident. "That would be great."

Taichi wanted to kill his mother. There were a lot of moments in his life when he'd thought that, but this time it was serious. What kind of devil woman cancelled all her plans the moment she heard her teenage son's girlfriend was coming over? What kind of sadist did you have to be to do that to a loved one?

It was his own fault. He shouldn't have put in any effort. He'd bought Chihaya's favorite drink and cleaned his room, and that alone had been enough to tip his mother off. It would have been impressive if it wasn't so annoying.

"Ayase-chan," his mother was saying, a viper-like smile on her lips. "What a surprise."

It wasn't a surprise. She'd grilled Taichi all morning.

"Sorry to trouble you," Chihaya said, taking her shoes off with a worried look on her face. She was probably wondering if she should keep them on in case she needed to make a quick escape.

"It's no trouble," Taichi said before his mother could spout venom. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Y-yes, please."

They escaped upstairs as soon as they could, leaving the door open behind them so his mother wouldn't come up to open it. Chihaya sat down on the bed heavily.

"That woman scares me," she said. "I thought she wouldn't be home?"

Taichi felt awful. "She cancelled her plans."

Chihaya glanced at the open door, then leaned forward. "What does she think she can do? It's not like she can break us up just by staying home. If she isn't going to force you to…"

"I think she's making sure there won't be any unplanned grandchildren," Taichi said before he had a chance to filter the thought out. Shit.

Chihaya's eyes widened, and for a moment he thought she'd react with disgust—but then she laughed. "Oh. I see."

Taichi pressed his hands to his cheeks, hoping they'd cool down. He couldn't be thinking of that, not with her sitting on his bed.

"Anyway," she said, opening up the Daddy Bear bag she'd brought. "I brought my karuta set—"

"You're kidding."

"No, I thought I could practice with my left hand—"

Taichi couldn't help it. He laughed. It was so typical: of course she'd take this chance to practice. She was probably going crazy with the lack of play. He wondered if he ought to feel used.

"You don't want to?" Chihaya asked, voice small. She sounded somewhat heartbroken, and he wondered if that was Chihaya's dealbreaker: maybe she could only date someone who'd practice with her. It certainly would be strange for her to date someone who didn't live and breathe karuta.

"No, I want to." There wasn't much else to do, with his mother lurking about the house. He wouldn't put it past her to walk in the moment they got too quiet.

A thought started to form in Taichi's head, and he smiled. "I'll get the tapes going."

Chihaya's answering smile was like the sun.

Soon the drone of poetry filled his bedroom, hearkening back to times gone by. Images floated at the back of his mind: reeds swaying in the breeze, rivers drenched with red, snow upon a nobleman's sleeves. None of them seemed as immediate as his reality now, kneeling opposite Chihaya on his bedroom floor, cards spread out between them. There was a tension in the air wholly unrelated to the game, a tension that increased each time one of them got up to grab a card. Furtive glances interrupted their plays, and even with the air conditioning on Taichi felt warm. He could tell from Chihaya's lack of focus that she felt it too; even using her non-dominant hand, she was better than this.

One time, right before the next poem, her eyes met his. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted.

She didn't look away to slap the appropriate card until the fifth syllable.

It was a two-syllable card.

Her eyes met his again, and he watched her swallow nervously. He couldn't do much more than stare.

Kiss her, he thought, and this time it wasn't the coward's voice prompting him. This time he could do with a dose of bravery. Before the next card was called, Taichi leaned forward, rising onto his hands and knees.

Chihaya watched him.

Part of him was scared she'd dive for the cards the moment the poem was read, but maybe she'd been as desperate for this as he had been. It was hard to imagine, but possible.

The card was read. Chihaya didn't move.

Taichi slapped the ground at her side and brought his lips to hers.

The reaction was immediate. Her good hand came up to bunch the material of his collar as if to keep him there, and her lips parted under his. She was so soft, and so warm, and she was everything he'd ever wanted. He kept waiting for the moment to end, for reality to crash back in on them, but it continued. Chihaya swung her legs around so she was no longer kneeling, and Taichi moved in.

Another card was read. He slapped the ground again.

Both her hands were at his collar now, holding her body up as he kneeled over her among the karuta cards. Her legs were on either side of him, and the intimacy of the position wasn't lost on him as his hands found her waist. She felt real and solid under his palms, her skin painfully soft where her shirt had hiked up. He wanted to reach under her T-shirt, to explore that skin, to hear her gasp for breath the way she did now as he dragged his thumb along her hip.

Shit, he was getting too excited—

Chihaya slapped the ground; another card had been read.

That was close, he thought, wondering if his mother suspected anything. He knew this couldn't go anywhere—whatever his body was telling him—but he wasn't ready for it to stop. Every moment of this was heaven, heady and warm and smelling faintly of fabric softener and Chihaya's conditioner. He wanted to drown in it.

He broke off the kiss to trail a line of smaller kisses past her jaw to her neck. There he let his teeth graze against her skin, and he was rewarded with a hiss and her legs clenching in on either side of him as if to keep him there.

As if he needed to be kept there.

There was one problem, though, and that was the way her hips had shifted when she moved her legs to flank him. He tried to turn his own hips so his body's response wouldn't be too obvious, but she shifted with him. He struggled to catch his breath.

"Chihaya—"

Slap. Another card.

"It's fine," she breathed, finding his mouth again, the fingers of her good hand slipping beneath his collar while the last two fingers of her injured hand tangled in his hair. Taichi let out a stuttering breath.

"No, I don't think you understand—"

Her lips traced the tender skin between his shoulder and neck. "I do pay attention in science class, you know."

Taichi swallowed. So she'd already felt it.

"I like you, Taichi. I like this. I like doing this."

Since she was doing it rather than karuta, he had no reason to doubt that.

He still didn't think that made it okay for him to come in his pants on top of her, though.

She let herself fall backwards, pulling him along with her, and he told himself he was fine. He just wouldn't move too much, even if she felt so good and he was hanging by a thread. One of her legs hooked around his hips lazily, and he held himself up on his elbows to compensate for it.

Impassionate gods—

They both slapped the ground, and Chihaya laughed. He kissed her laughing mouth. When he pulled back to look at her, she traced her fingers along his jawline in a way that made shivers roll down his spine.

"Who are you and what have you done to Chihaya?" he asked, thinking of the cards scattered around them.

"I've thought about this a lot," Chihaya said, not seeming to notice how it made Taichi flush. "And I still want to play a few matches, later."

She was going to trounce him. He didn't think his brain was going to be functional after this.

"I just wish your mother wasn't here," she added.

Taichi hid his face in the crook of her neck. "You can't say things like that to me."

She pushed at his shoulder, getting him to roll, and with zero embarrassment she rolled on top of him. "Or what?"

He raised his hands to hide his face. "I'll think unclean thoughts."

Slap. Another card read.

She ran her hands up and down his chest, over his thundering heartbeat, as if she'd been wanting to do it for a while. Then she leaned forward so her lips hovered over his ear. "I don't mind," she whispered, a shiver in her voice.

Taichi would have liked to explore that further, but at that moment Chihaya jumped off with a look of panic on her face, and a second later he understood: footsteps on the stairs. He rushed back to his place, gathering up cards as he went. They had arranged the cards in a semi-believable endgame formation by the time his mother peered in the door.

She looked at the game and noted how many cards were on either side before asking, "Want anything?" in a voice that told them the only right answer was no.

"No," they said in unison, eyes on the game. A card was called, and Chihaya slapped away a totally different one. Taichi fought a smile. His mother watched for a few more fake plays, then she padded back downstairs. Taichi raised his eyes to Chihaya's.

She was laughing, her hands clasped tight over her mouth. It started him off, too, until they were both shaking silently, faces red, relief pouring off them in waves. Taichi got up to stop the tape, and Chihaya wiped away tears of laughter.

Their next game went without a hitch, and they spent the rest of the day keeping their hands to themselves. The tension was still there, but it had become a promise: later, it whispered, reflecting in their gazes. They had time.

When it was time for Chihaya to leave, she said goodbye to his mother quickly before sprinting outside. Taichi followed at a more leisurely pace, closing the front door behind him.

"I had fun," Chihaya said, her cheeks pinkish. "Did you?"

"What do you think?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you ever going to let me forget what I said on that trip?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "Have to keep making sure. Okay, I should go—"

He stopped her. One of his hands came up to tip her chin, and he closed the distance between them. It was a chaste kiss, just a soft press of lips, but when he stepped back Chihaya's blush had intensified.

"Bye," she said, sounding dazed.

"Bye," he said, sounding the same. He watched her walk down the path and out onto the street. She threw one last wave in his direction before disappearing from view.

When he stepped back into the house, his mother was sitting on the couch, watching his face as he walked past her. He headed for the stairs.

"I see I was worried for nothing," she said. "Playing karuta in your bedroom all this time—honestly, what do you think that's going to achieve?"

He didn't turn around to look at her. He didn't think he could hide his smile.

"It's fine," he said, trying to sound like he was still suffering.

She made a noncommittal sound, and he headed up the stairs.

It's more than fine, he thought, unable to keep the grin off his face. It's amazing, actually.

He closed the door behind him and collapsed on his bed, wondering if this was what it was like: to be truly, completely happy. There were still things to be sorted out, and there was no guarantee of how long it would last, but for the moment, everything was perfect.

People would always ask me if I was pining for something, he thought, remembering the card Kanade had assigned him, and he thought: no.

Not anymore.