a/n: so i finally watched 2x01 and i cried a lot and then i battled writer's block to get this fic done
It was after the festival had dispersed, the sky streaked with puffs of gray smoke, that Kumiko and Reina began to make their way through the shuffling crowd.
"They were pretty, huh?"
"Hmm?" Reina looked up, inquisitive violet eyes reflecting the streetlights.
"The fireworks. I've seen them before, obviously, but this year . . . they were better than usual, I guess? I might've just been imagining it."
"Perhaps." Reina stepped out of the way to avoid an elderly couple hobbling through, nearly pressing herself up against Kumiko in the process. "They did seem rather radiant tonight," she continued, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Kumiko felt her cheeks turning red at the contact.
"Y-yeah!" she stuttered. There was a part of her that still rested in that moment, clenching Reina's hand as the sky burst into brilliant color, her heart thumping in her chest. The ground was littered with unfinished food, lost doodads and pretty much everything else as the people hurried from the festival in hopes of getting out before the traffic hit.
"I liked it, in any case." A tired-looking mother dragged her children away from a dessert stand. "It felt . . . bigger than us, I suppose."
"Yeah." Kumiko didn't comment on the fact that they had stopped, that she could hear her own pulse through the thick crowd. "I'm glad we went together, Reina."
"You told me that already." Reina smirked, lightly elbowing her. "Terrible, truly."
"You said it too, so who's really the terrible one?" Kumiko wondered briefly if it was the festival that was making her feel so alive, so full of wonder and excitement, or if it was the girl next to her. Both, she decided silently. It's both.
"You, still. We're all bound to repeat ourselves at some point, aren't we? All I've done is own up to it."
"You're ridiculous, Reina." Kumiko felt a familiar surge of affection, wrapping her hand around Reina's as the other girl looked up at the smoke-streaked night sky. "You've been smiling more, too." Reina blinked, the tips of her ears turning a bright shade of red.
"What are you talking about?" she scoffed, turning away with an indignant sniff. Kumiko let out a chuckle.
"I dunno if it's because we won the competition or what, but you're . . . happier. It's nice."
"Is this because of Kawashima and Katou? I really don't mind them, you know, I never have. There simply hasn't been a reason for me to talk with them all that much before this."
"It's not just that." Kumiko's voice dropped to a murmur, looking down at the pinkish remains of her shaved ice swirling around in its cup. "You're joking and laughing and still managing to be special, Reina. I'm glad."
"Why?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Kumiko tossed the plastic cup into the nearest trash can, pumping her fist when it landed where she wanted. "We're, w-well, we're going through this stuff together, and you're still telling me I could eat ice off the ground if I wanted."
"I don't follow."
"I'm just glad." Kumiko could feel her hand tingling, beginning to go numb after having held Reina's for so long, but she couldn't find it in herself to particularly care. "You're going to become special, Reina, you're not the same as the others, b-but that doesn't mean you have to be alone." Reina smiled, and Kumiko thought that perhaps artists should have stopped right then, that every single masterpiece was held in Reina's face and her laugh and the way she made every word sound like it was the most important thing in the world. Reina was not a godlike snow spirit, she was not a mystery to be unraveled, but she was as wonderful as a person could be.
"I never considered myself to be. Not like Yoroizuka-senpai, in any case."
"Oh. Yeah. That." Kumiko kicked a cluster of gravel, watching the dust float up onto her shoe. "I hope she's doing okay."
"So do I." Reina twirled a strand of hair between her fingers. "I never paid her much heed, though I suppose none of us did. She never seemed to be one for flinging herself into the band drama front and center, at least."
"Unlike someone I know," Kumiko teased. "Yuuko isn't ever going to let us live that down."
"It doesn't seem like you will, either."
"Nope."
"Geez, this yukata's stuffy!" Kumiko sighed as soon as she could hear her own voice over the babble of the crowd. The two girls had reached the gates, the taxis rushing by to pick up any lingering festival-goers. "The weather didn't say it'd be this hot outside, y'know."
"It's cooler out here, though." Reina didn't seem tired in the slightest, still keeping herself upright and composed even when the night stretched along. "Perhaps it was just the crowd, heating everything up."
"Yeah." Kumiko could feel her legs going numb, ever so slowly, but she didn't comment on it - not in Reina's presence, not when she was so powerful in every moment. She's not the snow spirit I thought she was, but she's not just a normal girl either, is she? Reina waved for a taxi, holding her empty plastic container like a flag. She's somewhere in between. That's what love is, right? Being in awe of little moments like these?
"Kumiko?" Kumiko sharply looked up. "The taxi's here. Your apartment's closer, right? We'll head there first."
"Yeah, t-thanks," she mumbled, carefully stepping inside the cramped space. Reina fiddled with the frayed ends of her seatbelt as the taxi driver let out a noncommittal grunt.
"You kids enjoy the festival?" he muttered, starting up the car with an uncomfortably loud grumble. "I haven't been in years. S'tough, this job, but it's worth it. I've got a wife and kids, they need my support and-"
"They sound lovely, sir, but I'm afraid that our parents expect us home in the next half hour or so, so I'd prefer it if we continued this conversation while in motion."
"Mm-hmm." The taxi lurched from its parking space, rattling as it made its way onto the street. "You two are sisters, then?" Kumiko had to hold back a snort.
"N-nope," she chuckled. "Not even close."
"Hmm. Figured as much, y'didn't seem like sisters. Too close, too hand-holdy."
"Do you, uh, t-trust him?" Kumiko whispered. "He seems kinda shady." Reina shrugged.
"I doubt that he'd do us any harm. Besides, we'd protect each other, in a worst-case scenario." Kumiko was grateful for the fact that the taxi driver couldn't see her in the mirror, for how flustered she looked.
"I think we're getting close," she commented.
"Great. Makes my job easier, at least." Kumiko decided not to speak to the taxi driver for the rest of the ride.
"This is it," Reina said. The taxi screeched to a halt, and Kumiko cautiously stepped out. "I'll walk you up there."
"D-don't you have to get home, too?"
"Not really, no." A few crickets chirped in the bushes. "It's a bit late for that."
"Oh." The taxi sped away, leaving black marks on the gray road. "My mom wouldn't mind if you stayed here, y'know."
"I don't really have much of a choice in the matter, do I? There's nowhere else to go."
"Y-yeah." Kumiko stepped into the apartment building with her face turned away from Reina, blinking against the harsh lights of the lobby. "We'll have to be quiet, Mamiko might still be around."
"Mamiko?"
"My sister. She's, uh, not all that great when it comes to visitors."
"You've never mentioned her." Kumiko pressed the elevator button.
"I've never needed to."
Mamiko, as it turned out, wasn't home, and both girls soon realized that sleep was eluding them.
"Y'know, I could get used to this."
"To what?" Kumiko had found herself leaning against a sleepless Reina on the couch, watching a late-night movie marathon while the clouds drifted by outside. Reina untied her hair with one hand, leaving the other limp on the couch. Kumiko scooted closer.
"This." Reina wrapped her free hand around Kumiko's, hardly paying attention to the movie. Kumiko wasn't particularly interested in it, either - there was something, someone, far more enchanting than any grainy film could ever be. "Just the two of us, hanging out at night with nobody hovering over our shoulders. It's peaceful, I guess."
"I suppose I can understand where you're coming from."
"Love's a precious thing, my dear," the protagonist of the movie murmured.
"I'm really, really glad that we went together. I've never really liked them, b-but with you, it was, uh, pretty nice."
"It's not something you can toss around without a care like a toy or a hat, it's far more delicate, and you should only entrust it to someone when you know they won't destroy it."
"I hate this movie," Reina muttered. Kumiko blinked.
"You've seen it?"
"Once, with my family. The person who's onscreen now - the one in the jacket - leaves the town in the end without explanation. It's an unsatisfying ending, to say the least." Kumiko moved to pick up the remote, just about ready to fall into Reina's arms, for how tired she was.
"We're all just glass hearts waiting to be shattered."
"I'll turn it off."
"What, you've never flung yourself headfirst into something as careless as love?"
"It's fine. We can forget that the movie's there easily enough."
"It helps to be cautious."
"Y-yeah." Kumiko hadn't quite realized how close she was to Reina, pressed against her side with hands intertwined, but she didn't feel any need to move. "You're amazing, Reina, y'know that?"
"You're just about to fall asleep on this couch," Reina retorted, a smile dancing across her lips. "I'll turn off the television if you don't."
"S'fine." Kumiko snuggled closer. "I'd do that, whatever they were talking about on there. Giving up my heart and stuff."
"We can stay like this, I suppose." Kumiko pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to Reina's cheek. "You missed."
"Eh?"
"I said, you missed."
The last thing that Kumiko remembered before drifting off to sleep was Reina's lips on her own, her violet eyes reflecting not the light of the still-babbling television but the light of the stars outside, the world beyond their reach.