"We won!"
They are thunder itself, roars and whoops as they dance about, screaming, chanting their utter delight. There are high-fives, hugs, often shared by bunches of people, tears, often the same folk, and by almost all, there's the joyful, disbelieving chatter of reaching their goal at long last, after months of nerves.
Almost, because there is the small patch of quiet in it all, a bubble of two that the others don't dare to intrude upon, feel they cannot. It's something that's a part of them, of Kitauji's band, but they are not part of it.
It is Reina's and Kumiko's business alone.
The former still holds her trumpet, but her arms are close to her body, down, allowing for the latter's embrace round her shoulders. Loose, loose, with only her forearms actually about Reina. But clearly no intention of letting her go anytime soon, with her hair that was so carefully done for today mussing as she presses her forehead against Reina's, and Reina presses back.
They have no eyes for anyone but each other.
"You were beautiful," Kumiko eventually says, "You shone."
Somehow, Reina's already exertion-flushed cheeks redden even more. "Do you have no shame, saying something like that?"
"Who was the one to confess their love first?"
"...Shameless, definitely." She huffs, air puffing over Kumiko's lips, and her eyes fall shut. But only a moment, before standing upright, and Kumiko settles for staying close, elbows brushing as they move out of the hall with the others.
With the victory still pumping golden and loud in her veins, it makes it a little easier for Kumiko to ask, "Would you like to hang out, sometime? Me and Hazuki and Midori were planning to go out, after exams start-are done, I mean, but would you? Like to."
"I would." There's no hesitation to it. "But is it alright for me to intrude, though?"
"Ah, you wouldn't be! We've been planning on it, and inviting you, for a while."
In a tuneless expression of her pleasure, Reina hums, the corners of her lips curling upwards. "I see. Then, this is probably a good time to mention you're invited for dinner."
"Mm." They manage three more steps, before Kumiko halts midstep, earning some protests from those behind her, glaring as they move past. But she ignores them, her words stuttering out, before she swallows, and tries again. "Waitwaitwait. Dinner? When?"
"Whenever you like." Shifting them over to one side, Reina squeezes Kumiko's shoulder in a somewhat successful attempt at clearing the dazed look the latter has. "Mother mentioned a dinner to celebrate winning. She says you're welcome to join."
"Your mother?"
"Yes. She was there for the first concert, too. We've talked."
"About me?"
"You're squeaking. Yes, about you, and the rest of the band."
But Kumiko does not seem to appear to hear, instead half-muttering to herself. Half because she still shoots questions at Reina, things like whether she should bring something over, and what her mother might like.
Reina is very, very amused.
She is less so when it's clear Kumiko is only working herself up into a frenzy, and with an exasperated sigh that somehow still rings with affection, she tugs on a lock of hair. "Kumiko?"
That stems the unending stream of words. "Yes?"
Kumiko's lips, Reina finds, are soft. Kumiko's unresponsive, unmoving, and there's the smallest roughness that tells of skin still recovering from a chapped state, but Reina doesn't mind a bit. She presses the wide-eyed look of Kumiko's into her memory, her reddened cheeks, the mixed air of surprise, delight, and smiles. "You promised to be a villain with me, promised to stay. And you did.
"So breathe."