She didn’t long for the old days, when her mother was gone and her father slowly losing his grasp on reality. She didn’t care for the memories of him becoming increasingly more bitter, nor did she want to revisit the many moments in which he seemed to care more for his alchemy and his research than he did for his own, lonely daughter.
She didn’t exactly feel like remembering his progressing illness, either.
Riza Hawkeye was satisfied with her adult life, even if it was far from dreamy, or cheerful, or even calm. It was filled with never-ending work and focus, requiring her to stay alert at all times, and not only in the instances of national security crises - but even then, it was something she had chosen for herself, knowing full-well what her career entailed. She had a team of allies she could rely on, who also trusted her entirely on their part. She was good at her job, too, better than most, in fact; and that hardly was meaningless to her, no matter the recognition she might (or might not) get.
What was also not completely without meaning was the fact that she had a very particular colonel to look after, too.
Still, there were things she did miss. They were small things, unimportant things; trifles, really. The sound of birds that would wake up not long before her and then wake her up, but could obviously not do the same in any of the big cities she had been stationed in. The smell of freshly cut grass, or even more so, that of hay. The noises and shouts of haymaking, which she could only really see if she had ventured far enough into the fields, away from the hollow, dreary house which had long stopped being a home.
The scent and sight of wildflowers on the meadows, and the same wildflowers, not so neatly put in a glass, brought to her as a surprise by a certain alchemy apprentice a few times.
Oh, well. Maybe not all of her childhood was unworthy of remembering.
Smiling, Riza Hawkeye stood up. She was more than ready to follow the order that had called her out of the room, like she always had and like she always would. To hell and back, if necessary - into the storms and into the flames.
And when she came back, there would be fresh wildflowers on her desk.
for the fic WIP guessing game: What about 'kiss' ? 👀
He edged away the tiniest bit, loosening his embrace gently. By the time Chihaya registered the change, Taichi's hands had already moved enough for him to catch her by the wrists; the protest seemed to have caught in her throat as she looked down on their hands, her face flushing with the faintest shade of pink.
She was so still so wonderfully unaccustomed to it, so adorable and entrancing in the abashment he could never truly foresee. So deliciously unpredictable in her reactions, going from bone-crushing hugs and kisses on his cheeks one moment to being perfectly flustered over a touch of his fingertips on the next.
So precious in her wish to be close to him and in how much she still struggled to demonstrate it sometimes.
requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!
Read on AO3!
"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"
The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.
The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.
She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.
He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.
All the way until now, that is.
And just what on earth was she going on about?
"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.
"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"
Taichi hummed in thought.
"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"
"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."
"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."
He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.
She really was being impossible today.
Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.
Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.
Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.
He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.
She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.
She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.
"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"
"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.
"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"
Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."
Wrong. She was flustered.
"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."
Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.
He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.
He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.
He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.
"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."
She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.
"Chihaya–"
"It's because you never say it."
He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.
She was distressed. She was insecure.
No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.
With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.
Only one thing he could do now.
"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."
She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.
And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.
"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"
It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.
That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.
"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."
"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."
Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.
Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.
"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"
He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.
"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."
"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"
"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."
Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.
The things she did to him without as much as trying.
You evil little imp.
"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."
He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."
She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.
"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."
He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.
Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.
What made me fall for you, I wonder?
He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.
There were so many reasons, after all.
Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.
Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.
Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.
Maybe...
"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."
Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.
And then he kissed her properly.
Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.
He could barely hear her voice, so weak and unsure it was. And yet, there wasn't any real hesitation in it – as if she'd been sure about her own wish but not at all confident as to whether she should voice it, whether it was alright for her to admit what that wish was.
Taichi didn't know if he wanted to crush her in an embrace and apologise for making her feel anything of the sort or kick his own bottom for causing that, first.
It had never been her fault.
No.
It was his.
"Come on, then," he replied simply, stepping aside and reaching for both of their bags, hanging them over his shoulders as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. Chihaya didn't react to his actions in any way, but he was no longer surprised by that. She was clearly not herself, lost and confused, bouncing from one emotion to the other, regardless of how contradictory they might have seemed.
He could hardly expect her to flinch or move just because he suddenly wasn't standing next to her.
He shifted his gaze back to her and saw that she was, once again, turned to her right and staring into the distance, presumably focused on the same spot she'd been looking at before. No longer having to choose his priorities, Taichi allowed himself to follow her gaze this time, curious to see what it was that had managed to catch her attention not once, but twice... To determine whether it really was something worthy of paying attention to or if it was just the fact that it was in the opposite direction to where he was.
He was surprised to see that the object she'd been looking at was no less than the playground he himself had mentioned right before he'd stepped through that wretched gate.
Heck, she really had good instincts.
"Looks like you've found a perfect place to make that fall," he said cheerfully, though he still made sure that his tone was gentle. "This is the place I told you about earlier. Seems like I was right, too. About no children around, I mean."
Chihaya nodded in confirmation, her eyes still fixed on the small yard. Then she turned around, sharply, unexpectedly – and winced, seeing the bags in Taichi's hands.
She reached out for hers immediately, but he raised his arm to stop her.
"It's fine, Chihaya, I've got this. Let's just go."
He set off towards the entrance to the playground, about a dozen metres away. He didn't wait for her, didn't insist that she should walk by his side and not behind him; if she had followed him before, there was no reason to think that she wouldn't follow him now.
And the one thing Taichi had no doubts about at all was that she sure needed her space today.
They reached the yard in no time and soon were looking for a bench they might sit on. Taichi made sure that the one they chose wasn't placed directly next to the street, but at the same time, he certainly didn't wish to settle down in some distant, secret spot on the other side of the playground, and not only because it would be foolish to make Chihaya walk any more than she had to. They wanted some privacy; they didn't need absolute seclusion.
He still didn't trust himself enough to stay with her like that.
So he looked around and soon he found a seat that was perfect for their needs. It was close enough to where they stood not to make their stroll towards it seem like a strain, but far enough not to make them feel like they were sitting by the pavement they had just left behind. Without asking Chihaya's opinion, Taichi began to walk towards it, with nothing but a nod to indicate his intentions.
She didn't need a decade of friendship between them to understand that clue.
He glanced back at her a few times, both before and after reaching the bench and couldn't help but notice that her attitude had changed. It wasn't much; just a simple fact that her eyes were no longer cast down, but instead searching the environment around her, as if she'd been trying to determine something, though he couldn't for the life of him tell what it was exactly she was pondering about. She looked calm, on the outside at least. Like...
Like she was too preoccupied with her thoughts to think of all the distressful issues that had been bothering her so far.
She joined him next to the bench just a few seconds after he'd arrived at it himself, her gaze still scanning every bit of the yard she could view from where she stood. Her arms were folded now; her fingers tightened around the fabric of her shirt as she rumpled it unconsciously, completely unaware of the damage she was doing.
Just as he had thought, she was too lost in thought to care.
"You’d better sit down, you don't want to harm that leg any further," he said evenly, putting both of their bags in the very middle of the bench. "I know you don't think it's serious and you're probably right; still, it's no reason to overstrain yourself when there's no need for that."
Chihaya turned towards him then, though her gaze still wasn't fully focused. "It's just a cut, Taichi, not a broken bone. It doesn't matter if I stand on it or not."
"So it's not hurting, huh?"
"It won't hurt less if I sit down, that's all I'm saying."
She did sit down, however, and without any more prompting on his part. Taichi smiled weakly, his expression a mixture of contentment and relief, and took his seat next to her – or better said, next to the bags he'd so cleverly put in between them.
Perhaps he should have thought it through more carefully.
"I really hope it will heal quickly," he offered, randomly shifting his attention back to the conversation at hand. "You've injured that knee quite severely, given the circumstances. I'm still having trouble understanding how you even managed it."
She shrugged. "I must've fallen on a pebble or something. Anyway, I'll just need to wear the bandages for a little while until it's back to normal. It's not like I'm entering any beauty contests in the near future, so I don't really care how long it takes to heal."
Taichi gave her a curious glance. "It probably won't be very comfortable to kneel on the tatami with it, though. You might want to think of a cushion or something – Doctor Harada has been using those for years, it can't be much of an obstacle. And it would only be for a short while for you."
"That won't be necessary," she cut him off, her head bowing a little lower again. "I mean, the cushion. I won't be needing it. I'll be fine."
"The mat is pretty rough though, if you rest your knee against it, even wrapped up it will get-"
"Taichi," she interrupted him again. "That won't be a problem. I promise."
He didn't contradict her again, in spite of how little he understood her protest. And so they sat together for a while, wrapped up in an awkward silence, neither of them knowing when or how to pick up the conversation again. There was so much to talk about, and yet, each and every subject appeared to be banned, as they all led back to the moment they had last talked openly.
On one hand, Taichi wanted nothing more than to throw himself into it, without hesitation, without second thoughts, ready to risk the last bit of sanity he had left, if only that meant learning what was really going on in Chihaya's mind and heart at last. To finally hear her answer in full, with all the excuses and explanation she might provide, with her telling him what exactly his confession had meant to her – to see for himself if it had left any other trace than the cursed abashment and confusion she displayed every time they as much as passed each other by at school.
On the other, he was terrified by the very idea of what she might say to him if she decided to open up in this way.
At some point, she let go of her crumbled shirt and straightened her arms, choosing to tighten her fingers around the edge of the bench instead. Yet again, Taichi found himself watching her, mesmerised by the sight of her focused, composed expression that at the same time left no doubt about how busy her mind was.
Just what was she thinking about so intensely?
"It's here, isn't it?" she asked suddenly, once again managing to take him aback with her volatility. "This playground. It's the one we used to go to when we were kids, right?"
"I... suppose so," he answered her eloquently, unable to understand why she should bring that particular thing up now. "I mean, we went to so many playgrounds over the years, it's hard to stay on track. Though I guess this one is close enough for us to visit it, from time to time anyway. And it does seem... familiar."
"I'm sure it's the one," she continued relentlessly, her gaze still fixed on some distant spot. Suddenly, she straightened up and pointed with her finger at the direction she'd been looking at. "See that swing over there? They always build those in a way where there are two, so kids can swing together with their friends. But here... There's only one. I don't remember any other playground with a single swing like this one."
Taichi's eyes widened a little in recognition, but also in astonishment at the thought process she had just presented to him.
"You may be onto something, actually," he agreed. "I never even thought of it. I guess it didn't seem important at the time."
"How so? It made us take turns swinging, and we couldn't do our jumping contests properly, and-"
"And half the time you made me rock you, no matter how many swings there actually were. I could bet that the jumping contests you've just mentioned were the only reason why you didn't insist on me doing it all the time."
She opened her mouth to oppose him but closed it almost immediately, short of a proper argument. Taichi smiled good-heartedly, amused with her fierce reaction that seemed so contradictory to her previous behaviour, however, one that was so typical of her in general that he couldn't even bring himself to question it.
"Chitose hated coming with us, you know," Chihaya changed the subject, but again, he didn't protest. "She would always whine about how childish we were and how she was forced to babysit us, even though in reality, she was too young for anyone to allow that. It didn't stop her from complaining though... And since I've always looked up to her, I really felt bad about it every time."
"Even though you knew she was exaggerating?"
"I didn't know it then. She seemed so much older at the time, and acted as if she really had been. And we surely were a handful when we were ten."
"Speak for yourself," Taichi disagreed humorously. "I was a good boy, who listened to his mother and followed rules all the time. I was the easiest kid to look after in the world."
The playful brag earned him a glare from Chihaya, who then said, "In the fifth grade you dared me to race you all the way from school and then cheated by taking a shortcut I didn't know of. I was so confused when you disappeared that I ran into the nearest lamp post and bumped my head so bad that I thought I'd faint on the spot. I actually had to get stitches afterwards."
"Oh, I remember. I was the one who let your parents know, while you pretended to be fine," Taichi replied. "Funny, how often that happened. Also, I didn't cheat. We never agreed on the route we should take."
This time Chihaya didn't even try to argue her point. Instead, she brought her legs to her chest, grimacing slightly at the stinging she felt after bending her injured knee. Still, she didn't back out, and only made sure that her chin rested on the good one instead. Yet again, Taichi was left wondering as to what she might be thinking of, but chose not to pester her about it. It was one thing to tease her about their childhood adventures and the many messes she'd found herself in – messes he'd sometimes provoked but always made sure to get her out of whenever he'd noticed it was too much for her to deal with; but to bother her with his questions when he still couldn't be sure how much she was willing to tell him...
That was just not the right thing to do.
So he waited, his eyes opened wide and his ears pricked in anticipation for when she would finally decide to speak. He could feel the atmosphere around him thicken and the tension build up; it wasn't long before he felt like after a silence like this the words she said next would be ones that would knock all air out of him, regardless of what subject she decided to touch upon.
You don't take that much time to think of an answer that would bear no meaning to it.
And yet...
"Those were good times, weren't they?"
It was all she cared to say.
And Taichi just stared, because hell, how was he supposed to react? Yeah, I guess, he might have said. It really was, he might have added afterwards. Or perhaps something like, The time outside was fun, though I sure wish my mother hadn't made me take all those violin lessons and extra classes, or that she at least wouldn't have made such a great deal about it and just let me spend more time with you.
He almost did say all that; but just like in most of the matches he'd played against her, he simply wasn't fast enough.
"Taichi..." he heard her whisper so quietly that he could barely tell it was his own name she was pronouncing. "Is... Is it true? That you've had all those feelings for me for so long?"
So, there they were. The words that knocked him out.
He didn't answer her, staring at her wide-eyed instead, swallowing nervously as he thought of the best way to respond. It was then that she finally turned towards him, even though the lower half of her countenance was still concealed behind her legs. Her big eyes bored into his with expectation for a short while, before she turned away again, slouching even further as she hid her face in her knees.
She shouldn't have asked him that.
No, he berated himself. It's exactly what she should do, what she should have done all those weeks ago when he'd told her that he was in love with her. Back then she'd been too stunned, too terrified to ask about it, to ensure that she'd heard him correctly – now, calmer and with more than a few hours of thinking it over (he was now sure that she had thought of it), she was finally requesting the confirmation of what she suspected.
Of what she feared, perhaps.
"You mean, if I was in love with you when we were in primary school?" he asked placidly. "I don't know. I didn't really think of it in these categories back then. I don't suppose ten- or even twelve-year-old boys do in general. I liked you; I was fond of you. You were important to me."
"That's what you could say about any close friends, though," she muttered under her breath.
"Not like this, I couldn't," Taichi refuted. "I mean, of course: I liked Arata as well. I was fond of him. And in a way, he was important to me, too, though I'm still not sure if it was because of him or simply because you were so determined to stick with him yourself. We both know he wasn't someone I would've chosen for a friend on my own."
He half expected her to cry in protest again, telling him how she had no doubt that he would have, even if it wouldn't have happened as quickly as it had with her help. However, she remained silent; and as uncomfortable as it made him feel, Taichi had no choice but to continue.
"You were special to me, Chihaya, much more so than I was ready to admit," he said. "When we graduated... When we got separated in middle school, I hated it. I almost told my mother that I wouldn't go to the one she chose for me," he added with a small smile, one which only grew when Chihaya turned her head to glance at him instinctively. "Of course, I knew she wouldn't hear of it, so I never even tried. It was a horrible idea to back down like that; I can't tell you how many times I wondered what it would have been like if I had said that to her. Technically, I knew the answer – and still, it wouldn't leave me alone. Probably because it was yet another proof of how much of a coward I really was."
He raised his hand and buried it in his hair, combing the slightly too long locks sheepishly. "You came all this way today to tell me that I'm not a coward and I hope to God that you're right. That... I have managed to fix that about myself, to some extent at least. But the fact remains: I was a coward at that time. All the way to high school and well into it, I had to constantly push myself not to give in, not to choose the easier path."
"But you never did that," she broke in. "I can't remember a time when you would even consider it. If anything, I always felt like you were pushing yourself too hard."
"There's a difference between doing things, though, and doing them courageously," Taichi explained. "Truth is, half the time I was throwing myself into one activity or another because it was the simplest way to run from the problems I didn't want to think about."
"Even in primary school?"
Taichi shook his head.
"No. Back then, I didn't realise any of this. I think I was too full of myself to even consider that – my parents told me I was apt, my teachers confirmed it with their praises and grades. My friends liked me and said that I was cool, and I believed them. You... you were probably the only one who actually challenged me back then, but even you didn't recognise what I hid behind that wall of confidence. I didn't, either."
He paused, thoughtful, and inhaled deeply, taking in as much oxygen as he could in that one go; heavens knew he was going to need it.
He turned a little, and looked Chihaya directly in the eyes before adding,
"And that's when Arata came in."
He saw her eyes widen a little as she watched him carefully, clearly surprised by the sudden turn in his tale. That reaction took him aback a little in turn – he was sure that even without knowing all the details, she should have felt the connection and therefore expected their childhood friend – his childhood rival – to make an appearance sooner or later in his story. However, he now realised that Chihaya really didn't have a clue; apparently even the admission of his wrongdoings those few weeks back wasn't enough to put her on track.
It looked like he needed to start over and go back to the basics, building her understanding of it from scratch.
Somehow, he didn't mind at all.
"Arata was the one who first called me a coward," he said, his voice steady despite the whirl of emotions that rose in his heart. "After I gave him back his glasses, he said that to me. You're a coward, Mashima. No words had ever stung me so much."
"Was it because you'd stolen them?" Chihaya asked, hesitantly. "Because you were afraid of losing to him in that tournament?"
"Those surely were connected, yes," he agreed. "He obviously referred to my stupid theft and the fears behind it. They weren't what had prompted him to say those words, though."
He paused for a second, waiting for Chihaya to chime in again with another question or objection, but none came. He clenched his jaw, realising that he had no other option but to go on without a prompt – to confess once more, risking her anger or (worse) disappointment again.
How many more of those statements was he to do?
"After I'd given him his glasses, I also asked him not to tell you about it," he admitted eventually. "I was so scared of what you might think of me if he did, so sure you would never speak to me again after learning something like this. Not only would you have had every right to do so... but I also knew that you'd have no problem lasting in such a resolve. After all, I had only just tried to shut you out because you'd dared to speak with Arata against my wish, made our entire class do that as well – and you didn't even blink. The natural conclusion on my part was that you didn't care enough to feel hurt or rebel against it... That, if given the choice, you would have chosen Arata without a second thought. And that was before I had acted like a total cheat and jerk."
Both of his hands were in his hair now as he slouched down, resting his elbows on his knees and shutting his eyes, ashamed.
"I know now that it's not what you would've done. You didn't choose Arata because it was him or because you didn't like me. I gave you an ultimatum that was as ludicrous as it was cruel; I told you to make a choice between a lonely kid that everyone was picking on already and a group of self-important teenage twits. Even without your kindness, your pride alone would have been enough to determine your decision. The problem was, I didn't know any of that back then.
"When he called me a coward afterwards, it was like a punch in the guts, painful and unexpected, partly because at the time, I had no idea how ruthless he could be. What hurt the most, however... was the fact that he was right. That the hit I'd been given was one I very much deserved. It made me think my own behaviour over and eventually, it also made me realise the reasons behind it as well. And it isn't just that little, pathetic theft I'm talking about."
"What else then?" she asked at last. "Your reaction to Arata? Or that – what did you call it? - ultimatum you gave me?"
"Both," Taichi replied. "Chihaya, back in primary school, you were my best friend, you know that much. I teased you and I tried you, and I bet there were moments you hated me for it – but even then, I couldn't imagine not having you close all the time. It just... felt wrong. Whenever you stayed home sick or left early because of some family issues, I always felt at a loss, though I certainly couldn't point out the reason so clearly as I can now. The point is, when Arata joined our class and you stood up for him, I felt threatened. You weren't even choosing sides then, quite the opposite. But I got scared anyway, and being the idiot I was, I acted on it."
"You were twelve. You can't expect a child like that to always act rationally."
"There's a difference between being irrational and purposely hurting people because of your anxieties. And trust me, I did want to hurt you. Probably more than I cared about upsetting Arata."
His words lingered in the air for a while before he added, "And then I lost to him anyway."
He was sure she would contradict him with another one of her agitated cries, and if not that, that she would at least turn away from him, abashed, embarrassed, guilty. It hadn't been his intention to pick on her or to make her uncomfortable with his final words – in fact, he wanted to take them back as soon as he'd pronounced them. They'd just slipped out, regardless of his will; no matter how much of an accident it was, however, no matter how much he regretted not being able to have stopped himself in time, it was too late to undo his mistake.
He could only hope that she wouldn't take it too much to heart.
However, when he looked at her again, he was met with a steady, teary gaze, her big bright eyes fixed on his face. Her face was no longer pressed to her knees; instead, it was raised again, with an expression of quiet disbelief painted all over it. She wasn't happy, that much he could tell... but she didn't seem annoyed. He couldn't quite tell what it was she was thinking of or what to expect from her next, except now he knew that she wouldn't run away, at least.
"That's not what happened, though," she whispered finally.
Now it was Taichi who wanted to run.
"Is that so?" he asked, his throat tightening all of a sudden. "How is it not?"
He knew it wasn't the right thing to say, not if he didn't want to upset her further, which he didn't. However, what he also knew was that the only way they would gain something from this conversation was to maintain perfectly, utterly honest, despite the discomfort – or heartbreak – such candour entailed. That meant more than just telling each other the truth, too; but to tell all of it, without holding back or pretending that certain topics were of no interest of them, while in fact they were more than crucial.
It wasn't the right thing to say – but it came from his heart and therefore was the one thing he should have said.
One he had to say.
"You'd chosen him long before you even realised that you needed to," he picked up before she could cut in with her answer. "Look... We spent so much time together these past two years – going to and back from school, practising for tournaments and playing in those, even studying together during our club hours. Sometimes it was just the two of us, sometimes the whole group. We worked, we fought, we had fun. I was having the time of my life, and frankly, more often than not I was ready to admit that it really were the best two years I'd ever had. Only..."
He trailed off and turned away, his hands moving from his hair to his face, now hidden in them. He could feel Chihaya's gaze burning his side but didn't dare to look back at her.
"Only no matter what we did, how engrossed we were in things, be it karuta matches or your birthday celebration, I could always feel Arata's shadow hanging over us," he explained. "On your birthday, he texted me to give you his wishes – but the truth is, he didn't even have to do that. As often as not it was enough to look at your face to see that something was missing – and since I knew how much he'd always meant to you, it wasn't difficult to figure out the rest.
"I know I was being petty, and jealous, and that I had no right to be," he added after a moment. "I let my own dreams take over me, in spite of knowing full well that I'd never really stood a chance against him. Never stood a chance with you. But I wanted to hope anyway; and it made me go crazy every time I was reminded of what my situation really was."
He fell silent then, and this time, he was determined not to make any further comments, no matter how many imploring looks Chihaya might give him. Instead, he decided to sit up straight again and raise his head to the sky, inhaling deeply as he waited for her to speak. His eyes remained closed at first; his hands now rested on both sides of his thighs, fingers curled around the edge of his seat but not really grasping it.
He kept this pose for a while, patient; then he opened his eyes and turned towards her again, a small, gentle smile tugging on his lips despite the hint of hurt and disappointment that he couldn't eradicate from his gaze.
That little smile was the best he could do for her.
He never would have thought that this tiny gesture, this most insignificant expression might cause the reaction that it did cause. He realised something was off as soon as their eyes met; and yet, even that hunch wasn't enough to prepare him for what was about to come next.
He saw a blurry gaze and a bitten lip; a trembling chin and eyes that begged for mercy.
He saw distress and guilt, and reproach, a quiet plea that somehow seemed like the loudest cry, ringing in his ears with a thousand decibels of what should have been a perfect silence.
And then...
Then he saw Chihaya burst into the ugliest sob he had ever seen.
A little something snatched from a bigger something I’ve been working on but can’t post yet. Written for Valentine's Day 2021, reposted now due to the blog migration :)
PS The setting is their college lives. They’re friends. And that’s all you need to know.
Read on AO3!
Taichi's gaze shifted from Chihaya's face to the package in her hands, only to go back to her eyes again.
He blinked, still not able to guess what all of this meant.
What could he possibly have done to deserve Goudi pralines from her?
And on Valentine's day, no less.
"Just to make it clear, these are payback chocolates," Chihaya mumbled with conviction, looking away and crossing her arms the moment Taichi took the bag from her hands. "Nothing to make a fuss about. They're long overdue, anyway."
"Wait. Payback chocolates? Not even friendship chocolates? My, Chihaya, you're colder than I thought you could be."
She glanced up at him, irked.
If looks could kill, Taichi would have dropped dead at the spot.
"Of course they are friendship chocolates," she parried. "But that's obvious, right? It's the payback part that needs mentioning."
"What on earth are you paying me back for?"
"What do you mean: what? That's obvious, too."
"Not to me, it isn't."
"How so?" she asked. "You're the one with a freaky memory here. I was sure you'd remember this, if only so you could tease me. You have teased me about this. Have you really forgotten?"
Suddenly, she was looking straight at him, her eyes round with astonishment, as if all of her irritation and embarrassment alike had evaporated completely. More than a little taken aback himself, Taichi could do little more than stare back, brow raised and mind reeling, as he tried to think of any situation to which she could be referring to.
Just what could she be repaying him for?
"I give up," was what he said out loud. "Unless you mean it's some kind of retribution for my coming here, then I have no idea what you might be talking about here. Not that the fact that I've been coming is enough to explain it, either. If anything, it's probably something I should be compensating you. Heavens know half the time you look like you want me gone the moment you see me at the door. So, what is it for?"
Chihaya didn't respond immediately. Instead, she looked away from him again, the arms that she had somewhat loosened in her surprise now folding back tightly again. Just like with her earlier declaration, Taichi had no idea what went through her mind; yet, that was precisely why he was determined to make her tell him herself.
Whether that meant waiting patiently or pushing her with his taunting, he was not going to retreat now.
After all, it was not her answers that he had given up on.
"Chihaya? Tell me what it is."
She didn't look back at him like he hoped she would. She didn't relax, didn't roll her eyes or waved her hand at him with a laugh or even a smile showing on her face.
She was...
...anxious?
Really, what was all that about?
"The Shinami Society Tournament in our first year of high school," she said eventually. "You'd stepped away from karuta at the time, so you weren't playing in that one. But you still came to watch and after I'd passed out after a match, Harada-sensei made you rush to buy chocolates for me. And you brought these," she added, nodding towards the package in his hands. As if it was completely regardless of her will, a small, weak smile blossomed on her lips then, a fact of which Chihaya probably wasn't aware herself but which Taichi couldn't ignore. "I never would have won that tournament if you hadn't done that. I really appreciated it. But since I probably failed to thank you properly back then, I thought it's high time to let you know now."
It was Taichi's turn to act flabbergasted this time. Surprised not only by the remoteness of the event Chihaya had referred to, but also (if not mostly) by the amount of details she'd brought up on that occasion, he gazed at her for more than a little while – until he realised that she was not going to add anything else to her tale, and instead awaited his response this time.
And she wasn't wrong to expect that.
"You did thank me, though," he said awkwardly, unable to come with a better reply. Then he chuckled, reminded of another detail from that time so very long ago. "You were so surprised by getting fancy chocolates like these, and you even commented on it, and still, it didn't stop you from gobbling them down one after another in an instant. They really were nothing but fuel at the time, were they?"
He sighed, smiling fondly at the sight of Chihaya's blushing cheeks and a frown that pursed her brow. There sure were things in this world that didn't change – and it looked like his all-time friend's puzzled expression was one of them, too.
No wonder his old feelings were taking over him again so easily.
"Winning that tournament was your condition, right?" he added somewhat absently after a moment. "If I win and make Class A, you'll help me start the karuta club,'' was what you said. I must say, I didn't think you'd pull it off. You did, though. Splendidly."
"As I said, I wouldn't have if you hadn't got me that energy boost."
"All the more reason not to regret it. Not that I would have opposed to making the club if you had lost, really."
"You wouldn't?"
"Well, I did make that decision after our visit to Fukui, which wouldn't have happened if you hadn't called Arata first, which wouldn't have happened had you not won that tournament. Still, I'd rather think even without all that, you'd still repeat your request. And I know I would have agreed if you had."
"Really?" she asked, her voice strangely hopeful. Taichi couldn't help but smile wider, even if a little wistfully.
"Yes, really," he replied. "After all, so many great things have come from creating that club. I don't think the universe would have left it to a single karuta tournament like this. And I did agree to pretty much everything you suggested those days."
Chihaya didn't reply to this, not with words, anyway. Instead, she laughed, shortly but enthusiastically, quietly but sincerely, shaking her head as if she was trying to say that she couldn't disagree more with that last addition of his. He didn't care to correct her, glad that this was what had caught her attention; didn't care to think of all the hardship that his times in the club had brought to him as well, happy that Chihaya's mind didn't guide her that way.
And so they stood, careless and content, with a bag of Goudi chocolates like a talisman of good luck between them.
A little 'thank you for the past', a shy 'I'm glad we've got the present'.
Maybe it was all in Taichi's mind, but thinking of it like this, he couldn't help but grow some hope for the future as well.
Taichi's gaze was filled with astonishment once more as he listened to Chihaya's nearly aggressive ramble, unable to wrap his head around the situation he'd found himself in so unexpectedly. He heard the words and thought that he understood the substance – he knew what Chihaya was referring to and comprehended the meaning behind her words. And yet... Something about this whole scene was just too bizarre, too unrealistic for him to believe that it was happening for real.
Too strange to have him take it for more than yet another of his feverish dreams.
Had she really gone to his house so spontaneously, after he had as much as ignored her for the past few weeks? Had she really risked meeting eye to eye with his mother, when it was obvious how uneasy the latter had always made her feel? And why had she decided to come see him now, so long after their fateful conversation in the clubroom and with so much happening since that dreadful afternoon?
Was it in any way connected – or worse, prompted – by the photo Arata had undoubtedly sent her as well?
And if so, what was the connection?
It wasn't like the message had contained any special words or wisdom, or even anything particularly nostalgic. It was a simple photo of Arata and his teammates, with a simple greeting meant to encourage them to do their best on their part so that they might meet at the Nationals this time. It was very much like the one he and Chihaya had sent him during their first year... but that was as far as the nostalgia went.
Of course, it was possible that Arata had sent Chihaya a different email, with more than just the few words he, Taichi, had received. After all, he knew for certain that Arata had spoken to her after the Master qualifiers and since that conversation had clearly taken its toll on Chihaya, it wasn't difficult to determine what he had said. He was also aware of the advantage Arata had always had over him and that Chihaya did favour him, even if she didn't fully realise it herself...
...and still, he couldn't help but think that it was not the case this time.
It was the similarity of it to the message they had sent him that made him so sure. It was not a taunt meant at him, or another display of affection addressed to Chihaya and only shared with him for propriety's sake. There was a much simpler, and much more genuine intention hidden behind it: an honest wish to inspire his friends in the same way they had inspired him before, mixed perhaps with the pride he must have felt for both himself and his new charges.
One friend reaching out to the other ones.
Friends.
Taichi's jaw tightened, his soul filling up with disgust and shame.
Had he really forgotten that that was what the three of them were, first and foremost? Friends?
Or was he just too tired pretending that he was all right with such a setup, because deep down, he realised that even as a trio, they had never been entirely equal?
Was he too much of an egoist to accept that?
"What the heck does that even mean?" he said out loud at last, letting out a hollow, mirthless chuckle that resembled a snort more than anything else. Chihaya had already managed to reach the front gate and was just about to step onto the pavement before it but now, she stopped mid-stride; if he had waited a few seconds more – or if she hadn't held back from running like she obviously had – his words wouldn't have reached her. He almost expected them not to anyway, despite her still being relatively close.
They did, however.
In for a penny, in for a pound. He had no choice but to go for it now.
"Why do you think I needed to hear that now?" he continued, careful to maintain the air of indifference or maybe even irritation, while Chihaya slowly turned around. "I didn't say I was a coward, just that I didn't want to be one. And of course I've changed since primary school; I'm not some Peter Pan who never grows up."
He could feel her stare at him, but refused to meet her gaze this time, all too aware of the effect it had always had on him. Feigning nonchalance, he adjusted the strap of his bag, hung over his shoulder and set off, descending the stairs one by one, as if he hadn't wished to get out of there just as much as Chihaya did.
The very sight of her was aggravating to him.
He knew it wasn't fair, that it really wasn't her fault that she could not respond to his feelings in kind. She had never led him on or pretended to care for him when she hadn't. She did care, she always had, and in a way, Taichi felt like an ungrateful scoundrel every time he remembered everything she'd done for him so far, never mind if it was a small smile meant to comfort him or a crazy, complex, completely over-the-top karuta tournament organised specifically in order to celebrate his birthday with him, in the most Chihaya-like way he could think of.
She wasn't the one to blame for all this.
And yet, every time he saw her, the memory of his stupid, impossible dreams came rushing back to him, always accompanied by the one of them being crushed to bits just a few short weeks prior.
It wasn't her fault, and still, he couldn't find it in him to forgive her.
Still, in the corner of his eye, Taichi saw the expectancy painted all over her face, the same perfect mixture of perseverance and dread he'd had a chance to observe more than once now. He went right past her, resolved not to grace her with a single glance, no matter how rude or cruel it might seem, and stepped onto the pavement she hadn't managed to reach in time.
He was indifferent.
He wished to be indifferent.
So why did he still listen closely, awaiting her to make the move, to turn and look after him, to catch up with him and shower – no, bombard – him with another set of half-baked wisdoms and untimely arguments? Why had he slowed down, anxious, restless, apprehensive, aching to hear her say another word, no matter how absurd it might be?
He had been so good at avoiding her lately, at numbing the overwhelming feeling of solitude by simply making sure she did not come into view – so why did he feel like he was missing her already?
Was a fleeting encounter like this all it took to make all of his endeavours worthless?
He was hopeless.
Hopeless.
Just like all of his love for her had been.
Oh, screw it.
"There's a playground nearby, if there's anything else you want to talk about," he offered, the pathetic, self-disrespectful moron that he was. "I doubt there would be any kids there at this hour, and there are actual benches to sit on. Or I can just walk you home if that's what you prefer."
He set off right after, no longer knowing if he wanted her to respond or not. A part of him hoped that she would, that there was more she wanted to say than that random, abstract proclamation she had surprised him with – that there was more thought behind it than she had made it appear at first. Simultaneously, his other half (a third? a quarter? a mere, pitiful percent?) screamed at him to pick up his pace and leave that cursed place before Chihaya could even answer, to run away and pray that the consequences of his stupid decision from the previous minute would not catch up to him.
Torn like this, he walked on, the rationality of his mind battling with the naiveté of his heart and the ardour of his soul. Step by step, he moved forward, hearing nothing but the sound of his blood pumping in his ears and his own sharp, uneven breathing. If he focused hard enough, he could distinguish his own, weary step, but even that seemed to come from a distance much wider than the one hundred and seventy centimetres separating his feet from his ears.
No matter how hard he tried, he could not hear anything from behind him.
So she hadn't followed him.
Of course she hadn't, you idiot, he berated himself silently, clenching his hands into fists and jamming them even deeper into his pockets. She looked like she wanted to get away from there as soon as she could, and only forced herself to stay and talk because she thought it was the right thing to do.
She didn’t come to chat, to pour her heart out or to clear things up with me, mostly because there's nothing to clear up in the first place; she came because she felt she needed to, because at some point, she'd decided that it was something a good person would do and obviously, she decided to spontaneously follow the wacky idea her mind had presented to her.
A totally spur-of-a-moment kind of decision, honest but rash, misguided and ill-conceived, just like about everything Chihaya does.
He felt his heart shrink, as if it was squeezed in quite a literal sense, and yet, he refused to admit to his hurt, even if only to himself. There was no reason why he should've felt surprised, no excuse for the disappointment that was threatening to take over him. He knew her; he knew what kind of person she was. Bright, outgoing, sincere. Blunt to a fault and so very, very caring that it made his head ache at times.
Still, her consideration was just like her entire self: impulsive. She always went all out and never put much reflection behind it.
As for Taichi, he still couldn't quite determine whether he found it frustrating or just very, very endearing.
Perhaps it was a mixture of the two.
The fact remained, however: the only way he could find his way to her thoughts was through incidents like this. After all, he could hardly imagine Chihaya spending her nights lying awake in her bed, unable to stop thinking of him.
Certainly not in the way he thought of her.
He fought the urge to kick the pebbles under his feet, regardless of the fact that there was no one around to see him if he had, much less to care about it. The street he strolled through was empty, and since it was getting late, there was no reason to believe that the state of things should change. However, Taichi knew better than to indulge himself with his whims, no matter how insignificant they appeared to be. He'd been raised to be that way; and no matter how much he wanted to change, no matter how grand was the amount of effort he put into achieving it, there were things about himself he simply couldn't reform.
He couldn't tell if it were those traits that had made him the unlucky loser he undoubtedly was now; but at least they helped him cope with the fallout his misfortunes had brought.
Which was exactly why he needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and focus on getting on with his own life instead, just like he'd been striving to do recently. He'd done a pretty good job so far, studying harder than ever both for his regular classes and the cram school, fooling everyone that it was his exams that had made him quit the karuta club.
Good gosh, he'd actually let Master Suo persuade him into not giving up on karuta after all, and only changed the environment of his practice instead.
He was fine, or at least, he was going to be.
The recollection of his latest, little successes made his faith grow a little, bringing back that tiny bit of optimism he'd been looking for so desperately. His chin rose a little while his pace turned brisker...
...only to have him halt in surprise at the sound of a dull thud and a hiss that came from behind him.
Taichi turned around almost involuntarily, completely taken aback and therefore totally incapable of forming even the vaguest expectation of what he was about to see. Had he had more time to think about it, he probably would have come with more than a few reasonable explanations of the sound.
For one, it could have been an ordinary jogger, whom he couldn't have seen when he'd exited through the cram school's gate, but who'd caught up to him silently while he was occupied with his own thoughts afterwards, and who now tripped over something and now was groaning in pain. It might have been a passer-by who'd emerged from around the corner, carrying an object so heavy that they had eventually dropped it on the ground.
For all he knew, it might have been a kid running from his friends in another round of tag. Out of all people, he surely was aware how fast little children could move; how quickly and unexpectedly they might invade other people's space.
All of these he could have thought of, and yet, he still wouldn't have guessed the real cause of the noise that had startled him so.
Of course, the culprit simply had to be the one person he'd been trying to ban from his mind.
How had she even got there without him realising her presence until now?
And yet, it was her, undoubtedly, undeniably her. Ayase Chihaya, the love of his life and the greatest, most unpredictable dork of a friend, now hunched and squatting, with one knee rested against the hard concrete surface while she eyed her other one attentively, instinctively pressing her scratched fingers against the more severely injured skin on her leg. With the few metres separating them (and his still fresh bemusement) Taichi needed a moment to fully absorb the scene before him, as well as its less obvious details. Despite the initial falter, his instincts soon took over him, however, and pushed him towards the wounded girl, before he could even see the grimace on her face or observe the way in which she chewed on her lower lip.
In no time was he kneeling down before her, pulling her hands away from the wound by her wrists so that she wouldn't accidentally infect the cut with one hand, while he rummaged through his hastily unzipped bag with the other one, searching for the towel and a water bottle he was sure he'd packed in there earlier.
"Taichi, no! Wait!" He heard her protest against his actions, only to ignore it completely. "It's just a scratch, nothing serious, I can handle it myself just fine here!"
"Like hell you can," he muttered in response after he'd finally found the objects he'd been looking for. "You've just pressed your dirty hands against a fresh wound, you idiot. I don't even want to know what you were planning to do next."
"No, but -"
"Just do me a favour and don't press them like that again now, will you?" he cut her off sternly. "I can't exactly hold your hands and dampen the towel at the same time, I'd need at least one other pair of arms for that. So stop arguing and keep your dusty fingers away for just a second, while I do my job over here."
Chihaya opened her mouth to argue with him some more but shut it right after under his severe glare and bowed her head obediently instead. Seeing that her opposition would not last – or at least, that her revolt would not rise again for a while – Taichi let go of her wrists and focused on wetting the fabric in his hands, before applying the now cold towel to Chihaya's injured knee. She winced under his touch, her head jerking up once more and her eyes glued to his intent countenance.
He saw her movement in the corner of his eye, felt the shudder that jolted all of her body, however, he refused to look up himself, instead making sure that his own gaze remained plastered to the cut he was supposed to be taking care of.
Not that clearing up the skin on her leg was doing any good to his sanity, mind you.
"How on earth did you even do that?" he muttered the question under his breath, if only to make his attention shift to something else, desperately hoping it would be enough to drown out his rebellious thoughts for a short while at least. "There's literally nothing you could have stumbled upon and you don't usually go tripping over your own feet; I know you can be careless sometimes, but you're not a klutz."
"I just wasn't paying attention," Chihaya answered him, her tone slightly offended, but still quieter than he might have expected. "My shoelaces had come undone and I stepped over one."
Taichi sighed, almost impatiently.
"And fell like this? What were you doing, trying to break the world speed record?"
"I tripped! Why does it matter how I fell afterwards?"
"Because I've seen you trip about a hundred thousand times since we first met and it was always due to some crazy stunts you were doing and never because you were simply distracted," he continued to parry her arguments; with every second it became more difficult for him to maintain his grumpy, cool attitude and not let his lips curl into an amused smile at both her behaviour and the memories he'd just recalled himself. "You were constantly running around, jumping over fences and climbing trees and half the time your shoelaces weren't tied, and yet you hardly ever let that get in your way. And now you want me to believe that you've hit the ground with your knee and cut it because you'd stumbled over it? When you were walking?"
"I don't know why you find that so improbable," she replied, shifting her eyes up at him for a second only to have them cast down a moment later. Unlike her most recent retort, this one was once again quiet, so much so that it was almost a whisper.
"I never thought Chihaya was capable of speaking quietly enough to be drowned out by a bell."
Was that it? Was that how she was now?
Was he responsible for that change in her?
He shook his head resolutely and lowered his own gaze onto her knee once more. He realised he was giving in to his nonsensical fears again, finding alterations where there were none, simply because he'd felt the change so acutely. Sure, Chihaya's voice was much softer than what he was used to; but to think that it was a general transformation was a little too much. It wasn't like she couldn't speak loudly or even downright shout at him – she had proven that much with the entire 'you're not a coward' scene, and even with the little comebacks she had thrown at him a short while earlier.
She wasn't mad at him, she hadn't taken offence. She wasn't avoiding him like he had avoided her, nor was she trying to daunt him with her curt, frosty answers; if anything, she'd given him the impression that she wished to talk to him but had no idea how to do it without overstepping his boundaries.
As if she had been afraid of him.
Was she?
Taichi risked another glance at her and saw that she still wasn't looking at him or even at the wound he'd been treating for her. Instead, her gaze was turned to her right, focused on some distant spot he couldn't name unless he followed her gaze with his own eyes. Afraid she might catch him staring, he looked down again quickly, however; he could figure out what had arrested her attention later on.
He had enough to think about as it was, without adding any additional information to the mix.
"There, it's all clean," he announced after a moment, taking the wet towel in his hand away; he pressed it back to her knee almost immediately when he saw that the seemingly unserious injury hadn't stopped bleeding. "It looks like it's a pretty deep cut you've got there. Nothing that would need stitches, but you certainly should have it wrapped up, and not only because of the possible infections. That is, unless you actually want to walk around Tokyo with bloody streaks all over your calves. I don't have anything of the sort so-"
"I do!" she cut him off, energetic again. Taichi raised an eyebrow at her sudden cry and she turned away, blushing. However, she continued, "I do. Just hand me my bag, please?"
He did as he was told, and passed on the bag that had somehow ended lying behind him. Chihaya grabbed the item zealously and began to search its insides, flipping the books and other tools she kept in it with as much hurry as if her life really had depended on it. Taichi regarded her curiously, suddenly indifferent to whether she decided to meet his eye this time.
It took her a good while before she found what she'd been looking for; it was a perfect opportunity for him to have a closer look at her at last.
No matter how silly his behaviour was, Taichi made good use of that time.
She was a mess; there was no doubt about that. No longer panting like she had when he'd seen her first (something Chihaya had been trying very hard to conceal and perhaps even thought that she'd succeeded, only Taichi obviously knew better), she still seemed to be anything but relaxed. Her hair looked as if she had combed them with her hands (which she'd done often enough in the past to make his guess more than likely) and her cheeks were grey from the dust, though again, it looked like she had attempted to clean it in some amateurish way.
He wondered if the slightly darker traces he saw on her cheeks really might have been the remnant of her tears, like he feared they were.
Gosh, she really cried too damn much, never mind how serious the reasons were.
He was roused from his meditation when Chihaya finally pulled out the small first aid kit which she'd been looking so frantically for and straightened up a little, relieved. She sure was glad with herself, a softer, more placid expression finally reflecting on her face as she opened it and drew the bandage and gauze packs she needed from it, and even waved them before his eyes as if to tell him that she could take care of herself now.
That darn moron.
"I can deal with it now," she said, confirming his suspicions. "If you just take the towel away from my knee I can wrap it up just fine. But you really have to move away."
"And how do you plan to do that with your leg bent like this?" he asked, simultaneously ignoring her suggestion completely. "You're still kneeling."
"I can straighten my leg anytime, so-"
"And lay it flat on the ground? Good luck moving your hand underneath when you try to go around it. Also, are you really carrying a first aid kit in your school bag?"
It was the first time Chihaya met his eye since her unfortunate fall and boy, was she vexed. "My mum made me carry one around after I stepped onto a nail and had to block the blood flow with my classmate's spare t-shirt in middle-school. She wasn't very happy with that."
"Your mum or the classmate?"
"Neither. But at least I learnt to carry these things around, and since I know how to use them, I'm going to wrap my own injury now. I just need to stand up and-"
Without a word of warning, she leaned on one arm and pushed herself off the ground, leaving the startled Taichi to stare at her helplessly. She hissed at the pain when she put more pressure on her wounded leg but said nothing, determined to carry out the plan she had formed in her head without letting her friend interrupt.
Only, his hand was still pressed against her knee... and he wasn’t going to do anything to change that.
"You're impossible," he told her instead, the faintest shadow of mirth flashing in his eyes.
"Move your hands, Taichi, I'm bandaging my knee," she ordered him, feigning deafness.
"You'd need to dry your skin first."
"I know that!"
"Not what I heard."
"I am, but I still need you to move away. Why aren't you moving away?"
"Who knows." Taichi shrugged, raising his eyes so he could meet Chihaya's weary glare. "Maybe I'm just being awful for the fun of it. Or maybe as usual, I'm the sensible one here and realise that you're gonna need help with that stupid cut. And since the only way to make you give up is by this kind of opposition, it's exactly what I'm doing now."
Chihaya's fingers tightened around the packages. "But why?"
"Who knows," he said once again. "Perhaps I'm just too used to looking after you to simply walk away and leave you to deal with it on your own. After all, I know you well enough to realise how incompetent you are."
That little jab at the end of his reply was meant to lighten the mood, to avoid a situation in which his earlier words would sound like yet another confession on his part. He wanted to make sure it didn't sound tender – that the 'looking after you' part was a statement coming from a long time buddy rather than from the love interest he so wished to be, from an easygoing, disinterested comrade and not a suitor she was so afraid of.
He wanted to turn it into a joke, and yet, it only took a second for him to realise that his tactics hadn't worked.
She didn't answer him; didn't snap or turn away, didn't huff, offended by his remark – but she didn't laugh, either. He saw her knuckles turn white as her grasp tightened even more and opened his mouth to apologise...
...but then she straightened her arms, shoving the bandages right before his eyes, while she looked away from him, again.
She nearly hit him on the nose and yet, he was too stunned to care.
"You do it then," he heard her mutter under her breath as she moved the package even closer to him. "Just... be quick about it. It doesn't need to be that precise, I only need it to last until I'm home."
He wanted to contradict her, to say that the main reason why he'd insisted on helping her out was to make sure that the dressing around her wound would not be a shoddy one; but something stopped him. Whether it was the way in which she was so determined not to meet his eye again or how her hands trembled when he finally took the cursed bandages from her, he couldn't tell; but he couldn't be more sure if Chihaya had told him that directly.
His jokes hadn't been too terrible a strategy overall – one more challenge, however, and he could lose it all.
So he remained silent, attentively drying her skin with fresh gauze before pressing another piece against the injury and wrapping it up with utmost care. It didn't matter that it was her bare skin anymore, or that the rim of her skirt was moving gently right above his bowed forehead. He was a friend, a companion. He was willing to call himself a nurse, for goodness' sake – as long as what he did was of any benefit to her.
Now wasn't he a failure.
Bet someone else, someone like Sudo, would never let anything like that happen, he thought to himself. He probably would have left her at that gate and walked away without a word, unless it was to roast her with one of his terrible lines. Actually, I'm sure nobody I know would've acted as stupidly as I have, whether it would be Nishida or Komano, or – Arata...
"All done," he announced a little too hastily, deliberately breaking his own train of thought before it could take him too far, and stood up. "I hope it's not too tight, but if it is, just tell me and I'll fix it. We don't want your leg to go all stiff and blue while you walk back home, right?"
"No, it's good. It's perfect," she answered, shaking her head. "Thank you."
Her head and gaze were still lowered when she spoke to him, so Taichi couldn't quite tell what her expression was and so he couldn’t use that knowledge to guess how she actually felt. At first, he was sure she would turn away as soon as he was done treating her wound, and just set off towards home without further delay, or that she would at least step back, no longer needing to stay in his close proximity like she had before.
They really were standing quite close now, so close that one step forward would make her forehead rest against his collarbone, literally.
And yet, she still didn’t allow him to see her face. He waited patiently for another moment, even though his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest any moment now. He stuck around, motionless and quiet, giving her every chance to flee like he expected her to, awaiting the moment when she would leave his personal space.
He couldn't imagine her wanting to be there, not after how he had treated her today – how he'd been treating her ever since the day she had rejected him.
And yet, she was still there.
"Chihaya," he whispered eventually. "Do you want to talk?"
It was a simple question, an obvious question. It was a ridiculous one, too – after all, they'd been exchanging statements back and forth, so technically, it was way past time for asking it. However, he certainly knew that it was not a simple chat he'd had in mind; and maybe it was naive of him, but he still believed that Chihaya understood it, too.
She didn't answer him immediately, and not even after some time had passed. It wasn't because she hadn't heard him, of that he was sure... but that didn't mean that he had more than the vaguest idea of why she tarried, either.
Was his question not so simple after all?
He didn't dare to lean forward, on the off chance that she would decide to look up at him after all, in which case their closeness really might become too much for him. His eyes remained fixed on her, however, boring into her hair as if to jinx her into replying at last. She didn't move; she didn't look up.
And for the longest time, she didn't make a sound.
