a/n: man i am on a ROLL rn, so i decided to finish an old little one-shot

Reina was tired, uneasy. Kumiko could see it in her expressions, the way her eyes were gaunt and her face looking at the pavement as she walked a few paces ahead. They'd been together for years now, that sort of intuition came easily to her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and Reina's head jerked up. Her hair was shorter than it had been in their youth and it swished when she moved, but she still had the same kind of girlish style of dress that had enamored Kumiko years ago on that mountain, when she'd seemed so grown up and Kumiko had felt like a little kid in comparison.

"Nothing," Reina said, and she kept walking. Kumiko sped up to keep pace with her.

"Uh, Reina, y'know you can tell me if something's wrong, right?"

"I know. Nothing's wrong."

"I'm also good at telling when you're lying." Kumiko sidled up next to her, gently holding her arm as if it might break if she squeezed too hard. Reina sighed.

"Do you remember when I sent in that application to . . . to join that traveling orchestra?"

"Oh, no." Kumiko could feel her chest crumbling, her hands rushing to cup Reina's cheeks in her palms. "Oh, no, d-did they reject you? You're way better than any of them, they don't know what they're talking about and I'm sure-"

"They said they'd love to have me." Reina looked right in her face, but Kumiko couldn't help but feel like she was staring through her.

"W-why're you sad, then? We should be celebrating! Reina, that's great!"

"They want me to start as soon as possible."

"Reina, we knew it'd be like this when you sent in that application. I'm okay with it, promise."

"Are you?" Reina turned around to face the street, her dress billowing in the wind. She really did look younger than she was, a girl of sixteen carrying her dreams and a trumpet up a mountain dyed blue by the moonlight. Kumiko supposed that she would always see her like that, no matter how much time passed. It was both a blessing and a curse. "You know that long-distance relationships don't usually work. We're both busy people. Why not just spare ourselves the trouble right now?"

"Reina, are you b-breaking up with me?"

"I should be."

"But you're . . . not?"

"No." Reina let out a long sigh. "I can't very well do something like that out of the blue, can I?"

"You do a lot of stuff out of the blue." This was true. "I mean, I get it." This was also true. Just because she understood something didn't mean she had to like it, though.

"It's for six months."

"It's only for six months," Kumiko corrected her. Was this a losing battle? Possibly, but she'd fight for it anyway. "Then we'll be together again. We can do it, Reina."

"Do you really want to go through that, though?" Reina faced her, and even after all these years the intensity of her gaze still surprised Kumiko sometimes. "Calling at midnight for one of us because timezones don't work out, not being able to touch each other for months? Falling out of touch? Wouldn't it be easier for the both of us if we ended it here?"

"I mean, yeah, it'd be easier." Kumiko clapped a hand over her mouth as soon as she said it. Reina laughed.

"Still terrible, hmm?" she said. Kumiko flushed red.

"You didn't let me finish," she huffed. "We d-don't really do things 'easy,' is what I'm saying. You and me. If anyone can handle long-distance, it's probably us."

"You've got a point there." Reina took Kumiko's hand into her own, and she marveled at how that simple motion still filled her with unbelievable warmth. "We'll do it, then."

"R-really?"

"If you're up for it." Reina's eyes glinted with a hint of a challenge, the corners of her lips turned up in a devious smile, and Kumiko took the challenge in stride.

"Always."

a/n: the only consistency in my version of adult kumirei is that reina is always a part of the traveling orchestra