a/n: so i was at the beach a few weeks ago and ofc my immediately first thought was "what could make this better...hmm...concert lesbians" and then somehow this ended up being 6k words i didn't mean for it to be 6k words ok
also i listened to "a beautiful sea" from the sing street soundtrack during the writing of this a lot so for the best experience listen to it. yeah.
Car rides, Kumiko realized, tended to feel much longer when they were spent with people you didn't particularly know very well. In this case, the oboe player Mizore sat perfectly still beside her, remaining silent and admittedly being kind of creepy. Kumiko didn't dare disturb her, instead trying to focus on the landscapes outside her window. Hills and grass rolled by, and Kumiko quickly realized that it was actually fairly boring.
"So, uh, Mizore," she mumbled. "What k-kind of things do you do for fun?"
"I play the oboe," Mizore said, nearly too quiet to hear. Kumiko gave up, silently cursing Asuka for convincing her (and about a third of the band) to go on this trip. It hadn't been school-sponsored, it wasn't a clever bonding exercise created by Taki, it was simply an invitation from the band's vice president to pile into a slightly larger than average van and take an impromptu trip to the beach - an invitation that Kumiko had accepted, against her better judgement. Asuka had promised adult supervision to the tentative first-years, but Kumiko didn't see any adults in the van, only her peers awkwardly pressed against each other as Asuka drove across the highway. Reina was somewhere, she knew, as were Hazuki and Midori and Natsuki, but Kumiko could hardly see them for how crowded the van was. Mizore had somehow managed to snag a coveted window seat, and Kumiko envied her for that. She seemed to be taking advantage of it, at least.
"When do you think we'll get there?" Kumiko asked.
"Soon," Mizore replied.
"I wasn't asking you," Kumiko muttered.
"The vice president won't hear you."
"We're in a van! She's, uh, she's only a foot ahead of us!" Sure enough, Asuka was directly in front of the pair, her eyes on the road. Kumiko had been pleasantly surprised, to say the least, about how good of a driver she was - her mind had filled with images of Asuka plunging the van into a ditch, screaming her excitement to the highway, and yet she drove calmly. Kumiko wondered, not for the first time, why Asuka had decided to bring them along in the first place.
"I've heard from close friends that she's somewhat uncaring when it comes to the issues of people who don't directly concern her."
"C-come again?" Mizore didn't respond, and Kumiko looked up at the top of the van, the sunroof casting tree-shaped shadows over the band. It was pretty, she thought, the kind of thing that poets might write about. Reina would like it, she thought, and once again looked around for her. This task was made decidedly more difficult by the fact that Kumiko was squeezed between the still-unresponsive Mizore and a sleeping clarinet player, and she soon decided to simply wait for the van to arrive at the hotel.
"Hey, look at that billboard!" someone yelled from the other end of the van, and immediately half of the band scrambled to look. Kumiko couldn't see it.
"We're almost here!" someone else cheered.
"Thank god for that," Natsuki - who, Kumiko realized, was only a few feet away but had been crouching underneath a seat to save room - muttered. "My legs fell asleep halfway here."
"Now, now, wouldn't you say that this calls for some music?" Asuka purred. Kumiko (and the entire front half of the van) groaned. Somehow, despite being the second-most important student in a concert band, Asuka did not own a single orchestral song, and thus the band had been subjected to seemingly endless trashy pop music for the past three hours. One of the flute players had tried to drown out the noise with their own playing, while Yuuko just screamed. Kumiko wondered, once again, who allowed this trip to even happen. It certainly hadn't been Haruka, riding shotgun and intently avoiding eye contact with anyone. It most likely wasn't Kaori, who had bailed last-minute. Kumiko figured that nobody was really able to tie down Asuka, in any case.
"If I hear any of these songs again, I might just fling someone out the window," someone muttered.
"I actually kinda like them!" Hazuki chirped, humming along to the tune and bobbing back and forth. "They're catchy!"
"Yeah, they speak of things we can't quite grasp at with just our souls! They need to be spoken aloud!" Midori squeaked. Asuka turned around to face them with a quizzical expression, adjusting her glasses.
"I was just trying to get on everyone's nerves," she said, rather bluntly. "I wasn't expecting anyone to enjoy it."
"Oh." Hazuki and Midori sunk back into their seats as the pop music trilled on.
After several grueling minutes of traffic and Asuka's uncannily good singing, the van pulled into the hotel's parking lot and finally came to a stop. Mizore had fallen asleep on Kumiko's shoulder, and she was currently trying her best to get out of her seat without disturbing her.
"We are here!" Asuka yelled, in English. "Now, that wasn't such a terrible ride, was it?" Most of the band had already spilled out of the van, admiring the sights and smells of the beach. Kumiko was just glad to have escaped the stuffy van. Reina distanced herself from the cluster of students as fast as she could, and Kumiko wouldn't have even seen her if it hadn't been for the glint of her trumpet in the sunlight.
"I've always enjoyed the beach," Reina said, looking up at the clear blue sky. Kumiko nodded in agreement.
"I used to go a lot when I was little. They might've changed it since then, b-but there used to be a big Funland on the boardwalk. I always won a lot of stuffed animals there."
"Perhaps we could break off from the group and head there once we've settled into the hotel," Reina mused. "It wouldn't be particularly difficult - I doubt that Asuka has a detailed system in place for keeping track of everyone. I wouldn't be surprised if someone was left behind at our stop at that gas station, if you want my opinion."
"Y-yeah!" Kumiko briefly feared that Reina would be uncomfortable, almost, with her sudden excitement, but the other girl only chuckled in response.
"The president seems to have her eye on us, though." Sure enough, Haruka stood hardly two feet away, helping unload the van. Most of the band had gathered in a blob, chattering among themselves as they searched for their luggage.
"I'm actually p-pretty sure that she's just helping Asuka."
"You can never be sure, though." Reina didn't seem to have packed very much - she held her trumpet case to her chest as if it were a child, and a small purple suitcase stood beside her, shiny and clean and seeming to hold nothing but maybe some clothes. Kumiko had been carrying her duffel bag around the entire bus ride, not completely trusting Asuka with her things.
"Should we wait until everyone's gotten their stuff, then?"
"Yes."
"Oh, are the lovebirds enjoying their time out on the beach?" Asuka approached the two with a grin on her face, her eyes hidden by a pair of comically large sunglasses. "You know what they say about it, you-"
"I believe they have birds in the hotel," Reina blurted out. "We should look for them, right, Kumiko?" Kumiko shakily nodded, hoping that nobody noticed how red her cheeks were turning after Reina grabbed her hand and took her in the direction of the lobby. "What do they say about the beach?" Reina whispered. Kumiko shrugged.
"Knowing her, it's p-probably something, uh-"
"They actually have birds here."
"What?" Reina pointed to the elaborate birdcage sitting ahead, where a beady-eyed cockatiel hopped around.
"I was just saying the first thing to pop into my mind in order to get out of that situation. I wasn't expecting the hotel to actually have any birds." Kumiko tentatively stuck out a finger.
"D-do you think they're friendly?" The bird answered Kumiko's question with a rather sharp nip. Kumiko drew back her hand, shaking it out and shoving it in her pockets.
"I've never trusted birds, if you want the truth. They sing such beautiful songs, and yet there's no reason for them to do it, no true purpose behind it. It's a waste." The cockatiel let out a squawk. Reina flinched.
"Reina, are you, uh, are you afraid of birds?" Reina stepped back.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"You're not sure if you're afraid of them, or you are?"
"I don't like birds!" Reina finally snapped. "They could peck your eyes out, or fly onto your head without warning, or simply break you down because they're better at something they aren't even fully aware of doing!" The bird squawked again.
"I didn't know you felt that way," Kumiko admitted. "No more birds, then."
"Hey, if you're done with the bird revelations, I'd suggest breaking away from the group before Asuka catches on." Kumiko and Reina both jumped as Natsuki nonchalantly leaned against a table that probably costed more than half the band's instruments combined. "I'll buy ya some time on one condition."
"What's that?" Reina asked, still backing away from the bird. Natsuki smiled.
"Have the best damn beach day you've ever had, alright?" Kumiko dutifully nodded before Natsuki pushed both girls out the door.
"How does she plan on buying time?" Reina wondered.
"Hey, there's a discount if everyone gets on the elevator at once! C'mon, ya nerds! Hurry up!"
"I guess that's how." Natsuki winked at Kumiko before being carried off by the storm of students.
"What now?" Reina asked. The boardwalk was teeming with people, couples and families and groups all walking along the beach with phones and drinks in hand. Kumiko sniffed the air.
"Funland's that way," she said, pointing down the stretch of the boardwalk. "I mean, if you w-want to do it, of course. If you don't, then we could always go to a restaurant or the beach or-"
"Funland sounds fine, Kumiko." Reina hadn't let go of Kumiko's hand since the hotel, and Kumiko wasn't exactly about to complain about that.
(She figured that, in a pinch, she could simply lie and say that her cheeks were pink because of the sun).
Kumiko's eyes lit up when the two reached the building that housed Funland.
"It's just like I remember it," she breathed. A little girl who couldn't have been older than six rushed past the two, carrying a gigantic stuffed chicken at least twice her height.
"Do people win extravagant prizes like that often?" Reina wondered.
"I still have a few from when I was four lying around at home, so . . . yeah, I guess."
"There's a game with horses over there. Have you played that one?" Kumiko looked to the game - more worn-out than she remembered, the plastic horses beginning to lose some of their plastic paint, but still functioning - and immediately walked to it. "I suppose that would be a yes."
"How do you play this one?"
"You, uh, you try to get the ball into the holes before anyone else, and whoever gets their horse to the end first wins. At least, that's how I remember it." There was one empty seat, crammed against the wall, and Kumiko slid into it as she confidently slapped down a few coins. "I also remember kicking ass at it, so let's do this!" Kumiko pushed back her sleeves. "I'll win you that big stuffed horse, Reina, I promise."
"You're truly a hero, Kumiko," Reina said dryly, though she looked at the horse with longing in her eyes.
"Alright, we're playing for a large prize at the sound of the bell," a disgruntled attendant sighed, pressing a button as an ear-shattering screech that was probably meant to sound vaguely like a bell rang through the area. Kumiko could feel herself practically glowing with determination as she shoved the red rubber ball into the holes over and over again. Time seemed nonexistent, and all that mattered lay in the ball that Kumiko flicked into the holes with ease.
"You're almost there," Reina breathed, and Kumiko looked up to see her horse nearing the finish line.
One more slot. That's all it takes. One more, and I'll win that big horse for Reina. Suddenly, Kumiko felt her hands shake as the ball rolled back down without falling into one of the holes, and the bell rang for an elderly man who sat on the opposite end of the table. "Crap!" Kumiko yelled.
"Kumiko, maybe we should-"
"No! I n-need to win this, Reina! Uh, ma'am, I'll go for another round!"
"Is it some kind of self-imposed test of honor, perhaps?" Reina mused. "You're trying to prove a point to your younger self?" Kumiko looked at the red ball in her hand, small enough to roll around on her palm. The last time she had played this game, her parents stood behind her as she clumsily flicked the ball at the holes with tiny hands. She wondered, briefly, if the festival she had missed to hike up the mountain with Reina had featured a game like this.
"S-sure," Kumiko mumbled. "Yeah, that."
"You don't sound particularly sure of yourself."
"Have you ever, uh, gone through something and then wondered if it was even real? Like, it d-didn't feel like it actually happened, and so you hold onto the only proof you have of it for dear life, b-but the memories keep on changing all the time and it scares you a bit?"
"What does this have to do with the horses?" Reina and the attendant said at the same time.
"N-nothing. Let's just do this one more time, okay? I'll leave after this round."
"Alright, we're playing for a large prize at the sound of the bell," the attendant sighed again, and Kumiko could see Reina cover her ears at the ringing out of the corner of her eye. She hardly had time to pay attention, however, before the sound of the other competitors' plastic horses shuffling ahead propelled her to start. She felt uneasy, this time, her excitement replaced with uncertainty. The little girl with the giant chicken won this time, barely even managing to keep the horse in her grubby hands before skipping off to show her parents.
"I'm going this time," Reina said, plopping down in the empty seat as she handed the attendant - who now seemed to be half-asleep - a crumpled wad of bills. "I don't want to see you lose, Kumiko."
"Reina, it's just a game. We c-can just go and do something else, really!" Kumiko felt as if something very bad was about to happen.
"Nonsense. I'm going to end them." Kumiko looked to the row of families and old people, and wondered where Reina had gotten this feeling of anger from (because she really did seem angry, tying her hair back and testing the ball out in her hand as the attendant collected everyone's money).
"Yeah, you all know the drill by now," the attendant muttered. The bell rang, the competition started, and Reina flung the rubber ball as if she had been doing it all her life. Kumiko was too tired to put all of her effort in it at this point, half-heartedly pushing the ball through the slots. The ending bell rang only a minute later, and Kumiko looked up to see Reina's horse at the end, yet the attendant handed the horse to a college student who had finished at the same time. Kumiko bristled. Reina seemed indifferent.
"H-hey, um, my g-girlfriend actually sort of, er, finished right at the s-same time, so maybe you could, y'know, give her a horse, too?" The attendant looked down at the two girls, the only people left at the booth after the rest had left, and raised a pierced eyebrow.
"Listen, I don't make the rules, friend. If I did, then this game would be banned forever and I wouldn't be standing directly in the sunlight in the middle of the day. The other person got the toy because the bell said that they did. That's all there is to it, really."
"That's fine," Reina said, standing abruptly. The artificial glint of the building reflected in her violet eyes, steely and irritated, and Kumiko hoped that the attendant wasn't paying attention to how attracted to Reina she was at that very moment. "I hope you enjoy running your soulless cash-grab of a carnival game. We're going, Kumiko."
"O-okay."
"That was a bust," Kumiko sighed, shielding her eyes from the sun. "I p-promise you, I used to be great at that game! Maybe they made it harder."
"You might just be out of practice," Reina offered. "I sometimes find it difficult to return to my usual level of trumpet-playing even after just a few days of not using it, I couldn't imagine how terrible I would sound if I left it alone for a decade." She shivered at the thought, despite the heat. "I doubt that I would truly be able to even pull that off, though."
"Y-you really love it, huh?"
"Of course." Reina headed a few steps ahead, her ponytail swishing side to side as she walked. "If I didn't love it, then I wouldn't do it. It's as simple as that, really. For all of my talk of ideals and motives and such, all I really care about is becoming special and doing what I love. There's no point to life if you don't care for what it holds, that's how I see it."
"Has anyone ever tried to get you into the philosophy club?" Reina laughed.
"I would be terrible for them," she giggled, and Kumiko was grateful for the choking heat for once in her life - it meant that Reina couldn't tell how deeply she was blushing. "I can't hold a rational conversation for five minutes without beginning to discuss my own personal reasons for things. You're supposed to detach from personal things when it comes to that, I think. I don't have much of an interest in that."
"Natsuki calls you a manic pixie dream girl."
"Why?"
"I can, uh, think of a few reasons."
"Does the fact that I plan on running away happen to be one of them?"
"N-no, I don't think so. She wouldn't know about that, w-would she?"
"Would you do it?" Reina asked suddenly, clasping Kumiko's hands in her own.
"What?"
"If I asked you, right now, to run away with me, would you do it?" Kumiko dropped Reina's hands, looking down at the wooden boards beneath her.
"I . . . I don't know," she murmured. "I want to, more than anything, b-but I can't just drop everything and leave. I have my family, and Hazuki and Midori, and the band, and schoolwork and-"
"I think I understand." Reina seemed disappointed, almost, and Kumiko hoped that she hadn't failed some unspoken test. "I don't blame you for that, you know. It's difficult to be spontaneous. I would know." Reina let out another chuckle, such a wonderful sound that seemed to make the background chatter and noise of the beach all fade away into nothing. "I had the entire trip up the mountain meticulously planned, you know."
"R-really?" The two girls had reached the end of the boardwalk, now, and neither the hotel nor Funland was anywhere in sight, but Kumiko didn't particularly mind. "I had always thought that it was just something you decided on an hour beforehand."
"Nope." Reina smirked, turning her heel and facing Kumiko. "As soon as you grabbed my arm, I began to think about it, ways to go about my confessions and such. Most of the books about two teenagers falling in love-" Kumiko felt herself choking on her own breath "-featured quiet, secluded places, so I looked for one. I had heard that the mountain was one of such places at that time of year, so I decided to go there. I knew that it would get dark, so I downloaded an app."
"The dress, too? Was that planned?"
"Yes. I had been saving it for a special occasion, and I figured that this would be one of such occasions."
"I never knew," Kumiko breathed. Wait. She went to all of that trouble for me. She's not just taking pity on me, is she? She cares. Reina Kousaka, the girl I used to think of as some kind of god on earth, cares. We're dating, and she cares. Nothing can take that away. Nothing. Not even . . . "H-hey, Reina?"
"Yes?"
"If I . . . if I ever b-beat you in something, like an audition or a competition or something, would you hate me? Would I be the villain?"
"Kumiko, listen to me." Reina held Kumiko's face in her hands carefully, gently, as if she was afraid that the other girl could break under her touch.
"Y-yeah?"
"That promise we made during the audition extends both ways. I wouldn't abandon you, Kumiko, not for the world. All I would do is try harder, force myself to become more special. Not everyone here is out to get you, Kumiko. I never cared much for the goings-on of our middle school, so I can't say that I know exactly what it is you're worried about, but I'm sure that it's different from how we are, right now, do you understand?" Kumiko nodded. "Now, we seem to have reached a part of the beach that isn't used particularly often." Kumiko looked around, and sure enough, there were no vacationers to be seen, only a beaten-down shack at the edge of the beach as the waves rushed at the sand.
"Could we . . . go down there?" Reina blinked.
"If you want to."
"I didn't bring a bathing suit."
"Neither did I."
"That's f-fine, though, right?"
"If we leave our belongings behind here, then I'm sure that there won't be a problem."
"What if someone tries to take them, though?" Reina shrugged.
"There's nobody here, Kumiko. If you're that worried, I'll hide them in the bushes here." Reina casually took Kumiko's duffel bag into her arms and flung it, along with her own trumpet and suitcase, into the bushes. "I doubt that anyone will find them now." Kumiko quietly kicked some sand onto the bags. "I suppose we should head down to the beach, now."
"Yeah."
"The last one there buys lunch." With that, Reina dashed down the beach, kicking off her shoes halfway through. Kumiko followed suit. Reina stopped at the ocean, skidding to a halt as the waves lapped at her feet. Kumiko didn't stop quite as quickly, and soon she found herself tumbling face-first into the water. Reina stifled a chuckle.
"H-help!" Kumiko gargled as a wave pushed her closer to the shore before pulling her back again. Reina, still just barely in the water, grabbed Kumiko's hand and pulled her up, and Kumiko had to hold back a gasp. Reina was stunning, to say the least, the sunlight casting the clear blue water in a glow as the wind buffered her sundress.
"Really, Kumiko, you need to be more careful. You could have-"
"Hah!" Kumiko, still holding onto Reina's hand, pulled her down into the ocean with a laugh.
"Kumiko!" Reina yelped, rising to the surface. "It's freezing!"
"It's - khak - refreshing!" Kumiko spit out a mouthful of water.
"Ah, you've done it now, Kumiko!" Reina playfully grinned as she splashed the other girl, dipping under the water with such speed that Kumiko hardly even saw her.
"I'll, uh, get you back for that!" Kumiko took Reina's hand again, laughing to the pale blue sky.
"You will, now?" Reina pulled Kumiko closer, so close that Kumiko could feel Reina's breath on her face, before twirling her in a circle.
"Y-you think that dancing'll distract me from my mission?" Kumiko taunted, kicking the water beneath her.
"On the contrary, really." Reina, out of breath and red-faced, dipped Kumiko with surprising strength for someone her size as seagulls squawked overhead. "I know that it won't." Kumiko found herself tripping on a rock, and before she knew it she was lying back on the sand. Reina flopped down beside her, droplets of water glistening on her skin. Both girls were soaking wet, heaving and laughing, and Kumiko had never been happier. Her cheeks hurt from the smile that threatened to stretch beyond her face, and without thinking, she pulled Reina into a kiss. Reina blinked, violet eyes alight, and Kumiko briefly wondered if she had taken it too far.
(This was quickly disproved when Reina kissed her back, tasting like rosemary and sea salt and the summer air).
Chills rackled her spine as Reina moved closer, cold from the water and yet somehow impossibly warm at the same time.
"Oh, Reina," Kumiko breathed, cheeks pink as her hands reached behind Reina's neck and tangled in her dark hair, salty and brittle from the ocean, sad stick to her legs, but Kumiko ignored it. Really, she had forgotten where she was. Reina slid a hand down her back. Kumiko had read about feeling drunk in someone's kiss before, fantasized about what that would be like, but now she understood. She understood, and if she was suddenly frozen in ice with Reina next to her she wouldn't mind - some idle promise of forever crossed her lips, and Reina breathlessly nodded. "Crap!" Kumiko suddenly blurted out. Reina nearly fell backwards.
"What is it?" she asked, shaking the sand from her hair.
"The band is going to wonder where we've gone, w-what if they get worried? What if the police go after us, Reina? What if they find us and lock us up and-"
"Kumiko." Reina had planted her hands firmly on Kumiko's shoulders as she sat up. "We'll find our way back, alright? There aren't any detours on the boardwalk, it's not as if we've found ourselves in a sprawling maze. As long as we walk back far enough, we'll get back to the hotel and Asuka probably won't even notice that we've left."
"Okay."
"We should get going, then."
"Uh, t-there's one other thing, though."
"Yes?"
"We're completely soaking wet."
"Is that a problem?"
"Of course it's a problem, Reina! Maybe you want to be freezing and miserable and covered in sand for the next hour, but I don't."
"Perhaps I do."
"Do you really, Reina?" Reina had already made her way halfway up the hill, a trail of water droplets behind her.
"Our things are fine!" she called, having reached the boardwalk at a pace faster than anyone (especially Kumiko) would have expected.
"R-really?" Reina held up Kumiko's duffel bag to answer.
"You have some clothing in here," Reina commented. "We could leave it in here, if you-"
"N-no, that's fine!" Kumiko scrambled to the top of the hill, picking up her duffel bag from where it lay at Reina's feet. "Here," she mumbled, pulling out a shirt. "You can, uh, use it, if you need." Reina held up the shirt critically, eying the cartoonish cat on the front.
"It'll do," she finally said, and Kumiko breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want to be responsible for either of them catching a cold because they had been goofing off in the ocean. "Don't look while I go and change behind that tree."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Kumiko replied, pulling on one of her old sweaters.
"You would."
"You underestimate me, Reina."
"I'm done."
"Already?" Kumiko yelped, still struggling to even shake off the sand on her legs. Reina stepped out from behind the tree, and Kumiko couldn't hold back a tiny squeak.
"It's a bit long for me," she said, tugging at the fabric, "but I suppose it's better than nothing."
"You, uh, actually you look really c-cute," Kumiko stuttered, giving up on the sand-related endeavors and slipping into her own shirt with all the gracefulness of a three-legged puppy.
"The sun's going down," Reina commented. "We should be heading back by now, I think."
"Okay."
There was a certain surreal quality to the beach at this time of night, Kumiko realized. The lights of the city blinked blue in the distance, the passerby heading back to their homes and hotels, and Kumiko and Reina were right in the middle of it. Nobody paid them much heed, only focused on their own lives and vacations. Kumiko figured that she could dance with Reina, kiss her, do anything she so wanted, and there would be no comment, no condescending glares. It was a strange feeling, to feel so intimate in the midst of such a huge crowd. Reina seemed to have noticed, too, intertwining her finger's with Kumiko's until the two were tangled, almost, unable to let go of each other in fear of losing the other in the crowd. A few stars had begun to show up in the sky, not a cloud in sight, and Kumiko thought that she could gladly stay at this beach forever (and yet, the band would be missing them, and she had no money in her pockets).
"H-hey, Reina?" she said, turning to face the other girl.
"Yes?"
"Do you think we're close to the hotel?"
"If you want the truth, Kumiko, I've been following your lead this entire time. I don't have the slightest clue, although we have passed quite a few hotels."
"We're gonna die," Kumiko muttered. "Nobody's going to ever find us, because I left my phone in the van and this boardwalk is endless and-"
"I'm sure that the band will pass us at some point if we just stay here." Reina seemed calm enough, walking over to a bench shaded by a small potted tree with her head held high, but Kumiko could see the uneasiness in her step, the way she fidgeted with the hem of the too-long shirt, the glistening of almost-tears in her eyes. Kumiko knew, because she was doing those things too, afraid of being left behind. She followed Reina to the bench beneath the tree, still keeping a tight hold on her hand.
"Y-yeah."
"They will, Kumiko."
"How do you always manage to keep such a level head with these things, anyway?"
"I don't." Reina turned away, tilting her head up to look at the stars as a cold sea breeze blew through the boardwalk. "I never have. All I do is pretend to handle them, put them in a box, and then I return to my primary focus."
"Which is?"
"Becoming special."
"Of course." Another gust of wind, this one more powerful than the first, nearly managed to send Kumiko's duffel bag flying. She shivered - the two girls had been walking for what felt like hours, but her hair was still damp, and the additional cold wasn't helping her much with staying comfortable.
"I'm going to try sitting in that tree," Reina said suddenly, standing up on the bench.
"Why?"
"I can. We don't have much else to do, in any case, and this bench is wet." Reina, still holding onto her trumpet case, jumped into the tree and wedged herself between two sturdy-seeming branches. "It's surprisingly large," she said. "You could probably join me, too." Kumiko looked up to where Reina was perched.
"I, uh, d-don't really want to risk getting hurt."
"The tree is five feet tall," Reina deadpanned. "I doubt you'll suffer any life-threatening injuries."
"Fine." Kumiko scrambled, with a bit less grace, into the tree. The passerby, as usual, simply kept on walking.
"It's strange," Reina murmured.
"What is?"
"You would think that it would feel chaotic, in a way, to be surrounded by so many people in such a loud place, but this is calmer than anywhere else I've been."
"Does it count as one of those secluded places you mentioned earlier?" Reina shrugged.
"I suppose." With deft fingers, she took her trumpet from its case and lifted the gleaming instrument to the sky.
"You're g-going to play here?"
"I don't see why not." The case clattered to the ground as Reina began to play, a mesmerizing sound that left Kumiko staring in awe. A few tourists dropped coins into the open case, pointing and cheering as the beautiful music drifted into the air. Reina bowed as graciously as she could in her current position when she was done, and the small crowd erupted into applause.
"You could make a living doing this," Kumiko whispered. Reina looked down at the money in the trumpet case.
"I suppose I could." Kumiko leaned against Reina's shoulder, smiling softly.
"Heh, y-you know Asuka would probably sing that weird rhyme if she saw us here."
"Which one?"
"Y'know, Kumiko and Reina, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-"
"Geez, are ya always this adorable?" Kumiko nearly fell out of the tree. Natsuki stood in front of the two, a hand on her hip. "Asuka's been looking for ya, y'know. I told her that she didn't have anything to worry about, that you two were just going around the boardwalk and got lost, but we only have a few minutes until she figures out that I'm missing, too. If we head out now, I'll bet that she won't even notice." It took all of Kumiko's willpower to not jump right into Natsuki's arms.
"I w-was worried that they had forgotten us," she muttered. Reina picked up the bags and her trumpet case, only giving Natsuki a small wave.
"Nah, they'd never forget. Here, I'll help with some of that." Natsuki took the duffel bag from Reina with a hrmph. "Now, let's get going. The vice prez won't wait up forever, y'know."
Hours later, when the band had settled into their hotel rooms and everyone was asleep, Kumiko quietly shuffled over to where Reina lay, one hand outstretched as she slept soundly.
"I had fun today," Kumiko murmured, tentatively holding Reina's hand.
"Mmrph."
"You're so, so brave, Reina. I h-hope you know that." Reina clenched her hand, though Kumiko couldn't tell if that had anything to do with the fact that she was asleep or if she somehow knew that Kumiko was there. "I p-probably would've freaked out if you hadn't been there." Reina flopped over. "Does this count as a confession? If you're asleep and I'm just talking to a cold, empty room? Well, if it does, I like you a lot, Reina. I mean, we're dating, so obviously I like you a lot, but I guess it's a bit deeper than that. M-maybe not full-fledged, undying soulmate-type stuff, but I think it's pretty close. It's . . . pretty . . . close . . ." If Kumiko hadn't already started to drift into dreamland at that moment, if she had looked up and seen the source of light suddenly flooding the room, she might have seen Asuka looking down at her with a sad smile, she might have seen Haruka sit up suddenly and rub her eyes blearily, wondering if she had just imagined it, she might have understood a bit more. Instead, she fell asleep to the sound of Reina's steadily pulsing heartbeat, comforting and rhythmic in the dead of night.
