a/n: that episode was. really gay. i'm happy with it, i loved it, don't screw this up kyoani
before
The room was fraught with tension, the musicians pacing back and forth along the backstage floor. They all huddled in their sections save for the few who mingled with their closest friends, exchanging hugs and wishes of good luck as Myoujou Technical played their symphony in the background, a warning of their talent, a bittersweet omen. Kumiko felt like throwing up. She dimly heard Nozomi and Mizore's chatter - flirting, really - and nearly jumped when Reina spoke.
"I think I'll play for you."
They were such simple words, and yet Kumiko felt a warm stirring in her chest, soft and gentle and golden-tinged. It wasn't something she was used to, not in the slightest, so it was almost second nature to slip out a witty remark about Taki, of course she'd deflect it with a shaky laugh to hide the fact that she felt like sunshine incarnate. It didn't change the glances she and Reina snuck each other as the band began to prepare themselves on that too-big stage, every sound an echo. Kumiko tried to calm her quick breaths, the euphonium's cold metal an odd sort of comfort. The curtain raised, the audience's faces nearly invisible in the dark, and suddenly the band was swept into a whirlwind of music, and Kumiko was playing like her life depended on it.
during
She never would've admitted it, not to anyone, but Kumiko spent most of the Crescent Moon Dance waiting in rapt attention for Reina's solo, waiting for what she said would be the best solo possible, the one that'd outshine everyone else. That's so like her, Kumiko allowed herself to think when the euphonium part paused. Wanting to outshine everyone, always the center. That's Reina, I guess. The photographs taped haphazardly to her music sheet sat in front of her, treasured memories plastered over notes long since memorized. Soon, all too soon and yet after an eternity, the clear notes of Reina's solo drifted through the auditorium, and it was all Kumiko could do not to let out an audible gasp. The auditorium faded, the whole world and all the stars circling around Reina in that moment. Kumiko could've sworn she saw lights dotting her vision, bubbles that looked like distant lanterns. Everything faded, everything but Reina, and Kumiko felt herself being drawn in again.
Fireworks. The bright lights bursting across the sky, hands intertwined so tightly that Kumiko never, ever wanted to let go.
"I want to become special." The mountain, Reina's bluish-white dress billowing in the wind as if she were a long-dead movie star or mystical snow spirit.
Her finger, trailing down Kumiko's face so softly, resting on her lip for just a moment before pulling away.
Kumiko kept on going through the motions, kept on playing the euphonium to the very best of her abilities until the piece ended and the band took their bows.
after
The auditorium erupted into cheers, friends hugging friends as the Kitauji High School band cried their relief all throughout Haruka's shaky acceptance of the trophy, a few students still sniffling when they got on the bus. Kumiko had flung herself into Reina's arms as soon as the band had enough room to walk around, smiling and giggling and pressing their foreheads together as she congratulated Reina on her solo, on how show-stopping and heart-stopping it had been.
"They should've just stopped the competition right there," she chuckled, still leaning into Reina and never, ever wanting to let go. "Nobody could've topped that."
"I told you that it was better to play for you than it was for Taki-sensei." The teacher in question was busy talking about the best routes to head back to the school in with the advisor from another school, Midori scurrying past him with the contrabass in her arms. "I doubt that I would've been able to perform in such a way if I was doing it for him."
"Hmm, well, maybe you're right," Kumiko teased, leaning away and folding her hands behind her back. Reina snorted. "He's a bit too uptight for a solo like that, isn't he?" Mizore had fallen asleep at some point during the reception, and Nozomi and Yuuko stood to both sides of her, carrying the oboist with their joined strength. "We wouldn't have wanted that, now would we?" Reina lightly swatted her on the arm.
"You're terrible," she scoffed.
"Am I really?"
"Some would say that." It was a routine of sorts, a dance in spoken word, and Kumiko found it exhilarating.
"It depends on who you ask, then," Kumiko replied, grinning as she walked to the bus with Reina's hand still firmly held in her own. The initial excitement seemed to have worn off as the band shuffled into their seats, weary smiles still on their faces when the bus rumbled to life. Kumiko watched the building drift away until it was hardly a speck in the window, and soon enough it was nothing at all. Everyone was a bit too tired to speak, and so they all reveled in the peaceful silence, the trophy still held in Haruka's arms. Reina looked like she was positively glowing despite hardly being able to keep her eyes open, a wide smile on her face as she drifted away into sleep, leaning on Kumiko's shoulder. She couldn't bear to move, not when Reina seemed so at peace, and so she found herself falling asleep as well. The bus bumped along the road, the sky beginning to turn shades of pink and orange, and Kumiko couldn't have been happier.