A/N: A short story from alternating perspectives, Taichi/Chihaya. Hope you enjoy! I mainly wrote this because I want Taichi to be happy so badly.

Taichi

Taichi rolled over, waking a little as the overhead light flashed through his closed eyelids. Other sensations came with it. He could feel his uniform wrinkling under him, the pressure of the tatami against his shoulder, the slight breeze in the room. His hand was resting against something soft and silky, laid out over the tatami like a sheet. It was a softness he'd felt before, in stolen moments, when he pretended not to notice.

Chihaya's hair.

It woke him more thoroughly than the light did, and for a breathless moment after he opened his eyes he let himself enjoy the sensation of his fingers resting upon her hair, gentle, almost as weightless as the tendrils of hair themself. These were the times he could lose himself in, times when he suffered the welcome delusion of a different life, one where she woke up and smiled at him. Crawled closer. Whispered-

His throat tightened. No good. He couldn't trust his thoughts, not when he was with her. In the privacy of his room, when she was a world away, he allowed his thoughts to stray. But never when he was with her.

"Chihaya," he said, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears. "Chihaya, you fell asleep somewhere inappropriate again."

She shifted a fraction, and he noticed the bandaged finger on her right hand. His stomach dropped at the sight.

"Chihaya, are you-"

"It's okay," she said in a wakeful voice, causing his heart to race. She hadn't been asleep? She had been lying there next to him on purpose?

It took him a while to swallow an entirely new set of nerves as his sleep-addled brain registered this new Chihaya-behavior. Falling asleep in strange places: normal. Seeking quiet solace at his side-that was a new one.

How badly was she hurt?

"Chihaya…"

"It's okay, Taichi."

Her voice was thick, though, and he knew she was lying. What had the doctors told her? How long would it take to heal? He wanted to ask, but there was something brittle about the Chihaya that lay at his side, something he was afraid to touch lest it break. Would Arata know-

Taichi stopped himself. Arata wasn't here. It wasn't Arata's room she had crawled into, not Arata she had lain next to. Sure, she couldn't have found Arata even if she had tried, but that didn't change anything.

He hoped it didn't, anyway.

Before he had time to overthink it, he reached out to her, his hand moving uncertainly to rest against her shoulder. He felt the warmth of her skin through the thin cotton of her uniform, and he tried to tell himself it was okay. This was friendship, not love. He wasn't overstepping.

But then Chihaya moved, and all justifications vanished from his mind. She curled up around his hand, nestling her face against it. He held his breath, wondering whether she was trying to give him a heart attack.

You're making this something it's not, he told himself sternly, but then she sat up and scooted closer, coming to lie next to him. She rolled him onto his back and cuddled in against his side so there was no choice but to put his arm around her and let her rest her head against his chest.

His chest. Where his heart was racing a mile a minute.

Shit shit shit shit shit. She was bound to notice. Even if he could control other parts of his anatomy-and it was a good day when he could, with her around-he couldn't slow his own pulse with strength of will. He held her stiffly, waiting for the lightning bolt to strike. He was painfully aware of her arm stretched out over him, her soft hair against his bare arm, the slight press of her breast against his ribs.

"We won, Taichi," she said. He looked down. Her eyes were open, staring out across the room. He thought she might be smiling, though that didn't make any sense with her finger injured the way it was.

"We did," he said.

"It was amazing, wasn't it?" There was definitely a smile in her voice.

He looked up at the ceiling, remembering the last match. He didn't often feel pride at his accomplishments. They were just stepping stones to other, more important things: medical school, a career, the kind of income his parents expected him to make. Even karuta was like that most of the time, though unlike his studies he wasn't quite sure what the goal of it was. Being Arata's equal? Making Chihaya notice him?

But today's match had been different. It hadn't mattered what the future might be like so long as his card got called, and it had allowed him to live-briefly-in a moment when he was Mizusawa's karuta club president, the others' valued teammate, and nothing else. Perhaps it was for rare moments like that that he played karuta, and not for Chihaya at all.

"It was," he said at last, and glanced down to see her smiling up at him. It set his heart racing again. Why was she talking about today's matches? Wasn't she seeking comfort because of her injury? He noticed again the softness of her hair, the way she was looking at him, and all the places where their bodies touched. It made it hard to think.

"How is your hand?" he asked quickly, because he was an idiot. He could never let himself enjoy these moments; he always ended up finding ways to snap her out of them.

"They don't know what's wrong with it," she said. She started staring at the opposite wall again. "It's not broken. I need to go to a bigger hospital to get it diagnosed."

"Will you play tomorrow?"

"I'm going to try to play with my left hand, I think." The note of vulnerability in her voice forbade him to ask more.

"Oh."

That was it, then. There was nothing more he could say to distract her from his thundering heartbeat, and he knew better than to think his earlier luck would hold. She would notice. Even Chihaya wasn't that oblivious-he just hoped she'd come up with some other dumb excuse besides a crush he'd had for as long as he could remember. Better yet, she could not mention it.

"Taichi?" she said, after a while.

Shit shit shit.

"Mm?"

"It's… fast."

Oh god oh god oh god.

He stared resolutely up at the ceiling, even when he felt her shift slightly to look at him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He'd wanted to wait for a good time, when maybe the answer wouldn't be a resounding no. A time when she had space in her heart for something other than karuta.

He said nothing.

"Taichi?"

"What?" he asked, voice clipped. Say it's nothing, he begged her silently. Arata had called him a coward once, and he knew it to be true. Even if he wanted to confess now, he didn't think he'd be able to get the words out.

"Your heartbeat. Are you nervous for the tournament tomorrow?"

He breathed sharply. The tournament. What tournament? He was about to die of a heart attack.

"It's nothing," he said.

She frowned, an unusual, measuring look on her face. She sat up, her injured hand placed over his heart. Her long hair tickled his neck as she leaned over him, her face coming close to his.

"Taichi?" she said, close to his ear.

It's nothing, he thought at her. Maybe the others would come in and save him, though he wouldn't put it past Kanade to lock them out. It probably looked like she was kissing him.

What she was doing was a mystery, even to him. Taking his pulse?

He braced himself to speak. He could-no, he would say something, and this interminable moment would end.

"Shouldn't you go to the girls' room?" he asked with some difficulty. "You need to rest up."

She shot up. "Mm. Yeah." Her face was red, her eyes wide. She looked astonished.

He almost called her back when she reached the door, but the moment passed, and she slid the door open. "Good night, Taichi."

"Good night, Chihaya."

The door slid closed, and he stifled a groan with his arm.

How much had she figured out?