a/n: because i physically cannot stop writing, i've been coming back to some old wips, hence this thing being from february. god i love kumirei

Sometimes, Kumiko walked.

Not very far from her apartment - her legs grew sore easily, even after endless years of carrying her euph everywhere - but far enough that she could take some time to breathe, look around some shops, maybe buy a pastry or two. Just to clear her head.

It was one of these days that led her to walk down the sidewalk with the snow crunching underneath her boots - though "crunching" felt like the wrong word, somehow, since the sound the snow made when she stepped in it was more like a bag hitting a hard surface - to come face-to-face with one Reina Kousaka, trumpet held in her chapped hands.

"W-why aren't you wearing gloves?" Kumiko asked, dumbly, because she couldn't think of anything else to say. Reina looked down, inspected her hands like she hadn't noticed them before, and shrugged.

"I forgot," she said. "Besides, they make it harder to play."

"Right." Kumiko shuffled her feet awkwardly as she waited for Reina to say something else. "So, uh, some weather we're having."

"It's definitely cold."

"Why don't you practice somewhere warmer?" Small talk had never been Kumiko's strong suit.

"It helps me improve my resilience." Reina squared her shoulders and looked out across the town, where families walked with their young children hopping around and their gazes tilted to the sky. "Besides, my parents are having some kind of a party at my house. I can't very well play the trumpet there."

"Oh." Kumiko paused. "Uh, d-do you want to come to my apartment? Nobody's home right now, so you could play your trumpet as loud as you want."

"I think I'll take you up on that, actually."

"Anyone home?" Kumiko slung her bag to the side before settling down on the couch. "I guess they're still out."

"All for the best, then." Reina lifted her trumpet again, taking a deep breath. Kumiko, almost instinctively, held her hand.

"W-wait!" she blurted out. Reina looked at her strangely.

"What is it?"

"I mean, you don't have to play the trumpet in the front hallway. We can go to my room." Kumiko fidgeted in place uncomfortably as Reina's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh."

"I mean, the acoustics are b-better in there! Yeah, the acoustics. They're better."

"Right." Wordlessly, the two of them made their way to Kumiko's room, both sitting on her bed in sync. It was strange, how those things just happened. A romantic part of Kumiko's brain - the same part that had vowed to be a villain with Reina and meant it - thought perhaps it meant they were soulmates, connected by that red string she'd mused over so many times.

If nothing else, it meant they were in tune with each other's motions.

"Sorry it's kind of a mess," Kumiko mumbled. Reina shrugged.

"I've been to your house before, Kumiko. It doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me." Kumiko flopped back onto her bed, looking at the cracks in the ceiling. "You're always so put together. You've got a reason behind everything you do. All I do is . . . walk. Does that make any sense?"

"Not really," Reina admitted. "There's not a problem with that, though."

"I'm just a mess. I'm just ambling around, y'know? It's like when Nozomi-senpai and Mizore-senpai promised to play for each other, that was something. Motivation, ambition, whatever. I just kinda am."

"That's all any of us are." Reina straightened her back again, lifting her trumpet to her lips. "I never played for Taki-sensei on my quest to become special. It wasn't until . . ." She trailed off, setting her trumpet back in her lap. "It's embarrassing."

"What is?"

"Until you, Kumiko. I play for you, now." Kumiko's heart beat faster.

"Oh," she managed to squeak out.

"For myself, too, obviously, for becoming special and everything, but having a person to ground things to is always nice."

"Erm, yeah." Kumiko figured now would be as good of a time as any to mention that she played her music for Reina, too, but she stayed quiet instead. "Are your fingers feeling any better?" Because that didn't sound like an innuendo at all. "B-because of the cold?"

"They do." Reina flexed her fingers, no longer bright red. "You really didn't have to invite me in like this." Kumiko shrugged.

"I mean, what're friends for?"

"This, I suppose," and Reina lifted up the trumpet again, and the opening notes to a song they'd both heard played on the radio time and time again a few years agobegan to drift through the room. Kumiko thought that perhaps she preferred this vastly to chilly solitude.

a/n: i dunno why love me like you do became a kumirei anthem but. it sure did.