*Omi Jingu. The beginning of the Master and Queen matches.

I didn’t want to come.

When Kana Ōe asked me, I avoided answering. When Yūsei Nishida kept flooding the club chat with messages, I ignored them. Even Tsutomu Komano, in his flat, rational voice, said it was “statistically inevitable” that I’d end up here anyway.

But it was never about probability.

It was fear.

Because karuta had never been just a game.

A hundred poems. A hundred heartbeats. Memory, instinct, speed.

For Arata Wataya, it had always been blood.

An inheritance passed down by his grandfather.

For you, Chihaya Ayase, it was your dream.

To become Queen.

And for me…

at first, it had only been a way not to fall behind.

Back when we were kids, when Arata taught us what it truly meant to hear a card, I understood one thing right away:

you looked at him like someone who had changed your world.

And I looked at you.

—

Then Mizusawa’s club was born.

I built it, almost just to keep you there.

Kana Ōe, with her love for the poems. Tsutomu Komano, with his numbers, data, and strategy. Yūsei Nishida, with his strength and noise.

Training.

Nationals.

Losses.

Victories.

Tears.

Promises.

For years, I held everything together.

The club.

The matches.

You.

Until I couldn’t anymore.

I told you I loved you.

And right after that, I ran.

From the club.

From karuta.

From you.

Because staying there, watching you keep chasing Arata… had become unbearable.

—

But I always came back.

Even now.

Even here.

Omi Jingu was wrapped in that sacred silence only karuta could create.

At the center of it all were them.

Hisashi Suō.

The Master.

Slouched, almost bored.

Like the world of karuta wasn’t important enough for him.

And yet, the moment the first syllable was read, his body moved before anyone else.

Across from him—

Arata Wataya.

Calm.

Precise.

With that honesty I had always hated.

He knew.

He knew who he was.

He knew what he wanted.

And probably what he felt for you too.

On the other side—

Shinobu Wakamiya.

The Queen.

Cold.

Alone.

Karuta itself made flesh.

And facing her…

you.

Chihaya Ayase.

Stronger.

Faster.

Brighter than I remembered.

And that was the problem.

Looking at you didn’t hurt the way it used to.

Or maybe it hurt in a different way.

For years, loving you had been simple.

Painful, but simple.

Now—

I wondered if I was starting to let you go.

And that possibility terrified me more than anything else.

Because if I stopped loving you…

what would be left of everything I had been?

—

“Oi, Taichi.” Yūsei Nishida nudged me. “You actually came.” Kana Ōe smiled softly, holding a card between her fingers. “We knew you would.” Tsutomu Komano adjusted his glasses. “Told you.” I didn’t answer. Because at that moment, the reader began. Suō took the card almost before the sound finished. Shinobu did the same. Monsters. Arata chased after them. So did you. But there was no fear in your eyes. Only that hunger you’d always had. The one that brought you here.

Then— as if you felt me there you looked up. Your eyes found me in the crowd. And for a second, the noise of the world disappeared. I held my breath. Maybe that was what scared me. That no matter how far I tried to run when you looked at me like that, I always came back to you.*