notes I have always wanted to write Taichi/Chihaya, and inspiration struck, though very briefly. Thus, this.
in the morning
She never misses their train.
He waits for her every morning. He is always thirty minutes early, at least thirty minutes early; always before the morning traffic of salarymen and rushing students, always before her. When he arrives, he always sits on the bench, crosses his legs, and sighs.
She is late.
But she never misses their train.
The first time they come up with the arrangement, he is sure she will not come. He is sure he will ride the train alone again, his train, the train that is two trains earlier than hers, the train that she always misses. Before this, he has always thought of waiting for her, of riding her train, the train two trains later than his, the train that he always leaves behind. But he always decides against it. He could never be so possessive; he was scared that if he began, he would not be able to stop.
He has missed his train now, the train two trains before hers, the train she always misses. The train he always used to ride. The next train will come soon, in nine minutes. He stands up, resigned, and walks towards the platform.
She is not yet here, but she never misses their train.
Seven minutes have passed; standing idly, he remembers the first day they attempted this. There was so much doubt on his mind. She will not make it, not even on this train that is directly before hers, not even on this train that is directly after his.
She will not make it.
But she always does.
"Taichi!" A girl shouts, and he has to sigh; does she have to be so embarrassing in the morning? He does not look back, does not acknowledge her, not even when the train comes and the doors open.
"I made it," she pants, stepping into place next to him.
He cannot resist to make a remark. "Barely."
She pouts. "Were you going to leave me?"
"I don't get it, why can't we just ride my train? I'm never late for school. We'd get to wake up late, and –"
Her complaints are cut off by the beeping sounds that indicate the train doors are closing.
Taichi steps in first. He turns around and half expects her not to get in, to wait for her train, to forget about this entire compromise and simply go back to the way things were –
– but halfway through his movement he bumps into Chihaya, only a few inches behind him, following his lead.
"You hit my nose, Taichi!" She exclaims, flailing.
The moment is so simple and her red face is so precious that he can't help but laugh.
"Sorry," he mumbles through a chuckle. He pats her head.
The train doors close, and the morning begins.
FINI – 031512