a/n: it's really been a year since i finished the coffeeshop au, huh? god, time flies. i don't think i'll ever write anything as good as that story again, but i'm sure as heck going to try. i'm going to seize the world by my teeth and demand that i'm heard, now more than ever, even if i'm a just a fic writer among many. i'm going to try and make people happy, to make them feel things, because that's what it means to be a good writer.

i'm not going to stop trying to write happy endings. i'm not going to let the world beat me into a pessimist.

so, yeah. here's the fic.


Kumiko stepped off the train with wobbly legs, her hand tightly held in Reina's.

"Are you nervous?" the trumpet player asked.

"N-no, I'm not nervous. I guess I'm just . . ." Kumiko looked out at the rain, still pitter-pattering against the platform. "Worried."


Kumiko was not expecting the thunderstorm to last that long.

It hadn't been predicted by the news stations beforehand, and so Kumiko and Reina found themselves huddled together in a cheap roadside motel, the roads closed off, with no cell service to be found.

"I should be used to this by now," Kumiko sighed, testing out the rickety bed. "I mean, we've been doing this for almost a year now."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm not particularly used to it either." The flickering lightbulbs only worked for a few seconds at a time, but Kumiko treasured those seconds dearly - they were when she could see Reina's face most clearly, always stunning, always beautiful, always the girl she had fallen in love with. "Kumiko?"

"Eh?"

"You were zoned out for a moment there, I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Yeah, I'm fine. You're just . . . really pretty, Reina. I love you, y'know that?"

"We've been train-hopping for a good nine months, now. It'd be hard to not love someone after all of that, not to mention what came before it."

"Yeah." The rain continued. "What if it's different, Reina?"

"Hmm?" Kumiko nestled underneath the flimsy covers of the bed, tugging on Reina's hand as she did so.

"What if it's not like how I remember it? What then?" Reina wriggled under the covers, still dressed in her day clothes.

"You'll manage." She paused. "At least, I'd like to think that you will. It hasn't been all that long."

"Nine months, Reina." Something dripped from the ceiling, and Kumiko quickly turned her gaze to Reina's face. "It's a while. I mean, I've been calling Natsuki and stuff, I know what everyone's doing to s-some extent, but what if I'm different? What if they don't even recognize me?" Reina kissed her on the cheek before wrapping herself into a makeshift blanket burrito.

"They'll be fine," she murmured, voice heavy with sleep. "I doubt anyone would be able to forget you." Kumiko wondered if the darkness of the hotel room was enough to hide the fact that her girlfriend of ten months still managed to make her turn beet-red.

"You're the unforgettable one, Reina," Kumiko mumbled. "You're . . . so amazing . . . mmf." It wasn't long before both of them had fallen deep into dreamland, the thunderstorm providing a steady melody for their slumber.


The rain finally stopped a week later.

Kumiko didn't notice until the sun began to slip through the shuttered windows that morning, burning into her eyes and framing Reina in a perfect light.

"Are you ready to go?" Kumiko rolled over.

"N-not yet . . . 'm still tired, Reina . . ."

"The highway won't wait forever, Kumiko."

"How're you already so ready for this? Aren't you worried too?"

"I didn't have very many friends at that college, I don't have anyone that I particularly miss."

"Right."


One thing that Kumiko had forgotten about over the course of the past nine months was the grueling hell that was also known as the early-morning commute - cars crawled along at a glacial pace on the endless road, and all she could do was sit in the back of the taxi with Reina sleeping on her shoulder as the sun glared through her window.

"I wonder how much everything's changed," she murmured, clicking through her phone to check for messages. She had decided, rather spontaneously, to keep this visit a secret from the three people she wanted to see most. Reina's rubbing off on me, huh? "I wonder if it'll seem weird to the others. I m-mean, we've been living out this . . . this fairytale, that's not something everyone gets to do." Reina always looked peaceful when she slept, her mouth open just slightly as her chest rose and fell. Crap, I'm really gay.

"Hey, kid, who're you visiting, anyway?" Kumiko looked up from Reina to see the taxi driver - an older man, with a warm expression and a fluffy beard that made her think of a modern sort of Santa Claus - light a cigarette. "Family? Friends? It's a weird time to be travelin', you know."

"J-just a few friends," Kumiko answered. "I've been traveling around by train with my, uh, p-partner here for a while, we figured it's about time to go home for a few days." Home. Yeah. The cars had started to speed up a bit, and Kumiko could spot a few familiar landmarks. I guess this is home, huh? She hadn't considered it that - in all honesty, she hadn't thought much about what she had left behind at all, not when she had a wonderful girl by her side, living out the plot of what Natsuki would call a cheap teen novel.

"Well, I hope you have fun seeing 'em," the driver continued.

What if I've missed it? Reina still slept, clearly not as energetic as she had pretended to be that morning. What if I want to stay? What then?

"Speaking of which, looks like we're almost there. You said to drop by the old Euphonium's coffeeshop, right?"

"Yeah."

"With this weather, I'd reckon it's about . . . twenty minutes away." Kumiko gently nudged Reina awake, ignoring the knot in her stomach the best she could.

"Psst, Reina, hey. We're almost there." Reina blinked her eyes open, sitting up with a strange sense of regality for being someone in the backseat of an old taxicab.

"Already?"

"The traffic was in our favor today, kid," the driver said. "We're close to your home, I can say that for certain."


They reached Euphonium's exactly twenty minutes later.

"Thank you, sir!" Kumiko called over her shoulder, nearly running from the car as she did so. Reina had to struggle to keep up.

"Kumiko, they'll still be there in a few minutes, you can-" Kumiko shoved the door open. "-slow down." Reina tugged gently at her sleeve. "Kumiko? Are you alright?" Kumiko's mouth had gone dry, her heart beginning to swell with the familiar sights and sounds, the ever-present smell of old coffee, the idle chatter of the customers.

"Y-yeah." Hazuki's head shot up, and Kumiko swore that she could've launched herself over the counter with the amount of energy it took her to race to the entrance. Midori wasn't far behind.

"Kumiko!" Hazuki yelled, flinging herself into a hug with her ever-present grin reaching her ears. "I didn't think I was ever gonna see you again, how have you been? How is it, traveling with your platonic friend? You know, I'd have saved that for a boyfriend or something, but-"

"Euphonium's hasn't been the same without you," Midori murmured, shuffling her feet. "It's missing your flavor, it's missing so much! Natsuki's a diligent barista, but she's missing your passion."

"I think I can understand why they missed you," Reina commented. The two baristas seemed to notice her for the first time, immediately turning their attention to her.

"Ah, Miss Kousaka!" Midori squeaked. "Tuba-kun got out again a few months ago, but I found her within a few days with Hazuki's help! You were right, it really does help to have friends looking with you." Reina nodded politely.

"I'd like to think that Snowy managed to find a home eventually," she said, hands tightly jammed in her pockets. "Perhaps she's still out there, happy with her new family."

"Wait, is this the same lady you went to that festival with last year, Kumiko?" Hazuki poked Reina in the cheek, as if expecting her face to fall off. "The college girl?"

"Uh, y-yeah."

"Wasn't she super mopey or something?" Hazuki moved to shake Reina by the shoulders, but Midori held her back. "Who're you, and what've you done with Kumiko's gal pal?!" Kumiko had to hold back a snort.

"Where's Natsuki?" she asked, still feeling a budding warmth in her chest at the familiarity of it all.

"Oh, you just missed her," Hazuki said. "She went out on break, apparently she met some new friends and they're all going to see a new movie tonight or something. The manager didn't say anything about it, so I guess they let her off the hook since she doesn't miss shifts too much."

"Oh." Kumiko tried to stomach her disappointment. "W-well, how about I meet you guys for dinner? It'd be my treat."

"That sounds great!" Midori squeaked.

"Where?" Hazuki wondered.

"There's a diner I've been wanting to go back to." Kumiko grinned at Reina, who looked down at the floor with a barely-contained smile on her face. "It's, uh, pretty special."


"You're enjoying yourself," Reina noted as the pair walked down the familiar sidewalk to the diner, their things left behind at a nearby hotel. "You've missed them, haven't you? Your friends, I mean."

"Yeah." Kumiko looked up at the darkening sky. 'It's still pretty early. I guess winter's coming, huh?' "I mean, it's hard not to feel nostalgic for this sort of thing, y'know?"

"I understand what you mean." Reina wrapped her hand around Kumiko's, still fitting perfectly. "It's . . . nice, to have a place to return to. I'd imagine that you're going to try and meet up with your roommate soon enough, too."

"I'll wait until tomorrow to see her. She's out with friends, I don't want to interrupt that."

"In that case, shall we get going?" Reina held out her hand as if waiting for Kumiko to take her the rest of the way, as if she were a queen stepping into her carriage. "We've reached the diner, Katou and Kawashima are probably waiting." Kumiko looked up to see the neon sign blinking above the two of them.

"Crap, you're right!"


"So, you two have just been traveling around on trains? For almost a year?" Midori sat in disbelief, her plate nearly untouched. "That's a while, don't you get tired of it?"

"Not really," Kumiko admitted. "I dunno if we'll be able to do it forever, b-but we're having fun right now, and that's what matters. Reina's finding her path to becoming special, and I'm just finding my way. It's nice."

"That sounds super romantic!" Hazuki blurted out. Kumiko's mouth nearly fell open in surprise. "Like something out of a novel!" Kumiko nearly passed out on the table. "It's really brave of you to do something like that with your friend!"

"Should we . . . ?" Reina didn't finish her question, but Kumiko gave her a nod, and suddenly her lips were on Kumiko's and Kumiko was holding her close, nearly greedy, pressing closer and closer in the space of the nighttime diner, and even after nearly a year Kumiko could still feel the fireworks. Reina threaded her fingers through her hair, foreheads touching, and Kumiko stroked her cheek with her thumb. The world could have stopped turning, for all she cared, for all she would've noticed. The two pulled away from each other after what could've been a thousand years or two seconds, still smiling like two children in love. Hazuki blinked.

"Huh." She stood up from the table, eyes blank. "I'm gonna step outside and think about some stuff. Thanks for the dinner."

"No problem." Kumiko watched her step out the door, leaning against the side of the building. "Do you think we went too far?" she whispered.

"She's always known," Midori piped up.

"What?"

"She's smarter than all of us, really. That just gets the best of her sometimes. She lives in a bubble, like we all do, hers is just way smaller." Reina dug through her purse for a wad of bills. "She doesn't see anything that doesn't fit with her view of normal. I don't know if she's happy, living like that, but it's none of my business."

"You're awfully wise," Reina noted. Kumiko chuckled.

"Midori's always been like that, Reina," she said.

"We'd best be on our way, though. Thank you for coming along, Kawa- Midori. It was a nice dinner."

"Anytime!" Midori squeaked. "I'll be here, don't worry." Kumiko had barely taken two steps from the table when someone yelled in her direction.

"Hey! You! You seem kinda familiar, do we know you from somewhere?" Kumiko looked back to see the tall girl and the quiet girl from the concert (so long ago, now) running to greet her. "I know I've seen her around." The quiet girl nodded before making a series of gestures. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Hey, stranger, my girlfriend here thinks you were at the Gay Detergent concert last year, is that right?" Kumiko nodded, squeezing Reina's hand almost instinctively. "I guess things went alright with your relationship, huh?" Reina nodded.

"We've been, uh, traveling a lot for the past months," Kumiko explained. "Kind of a soul-searching type thing, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get that! It sounds great, doing something like that. We'd love to do that sort of thing someday." The quiet girl nodded in agreement. "Welp, I'm on my way to an art show, but I guess we'll see you two later. Or not, I dunno. Have fun living your lives!" The couple strode out the door, arms interlinked.

"Do you remember them?" Reina asked.

"Yeah." Kumiko watched the couple leave, passing a still-standing Hazuki as they walked out into the night. "I remember them pretty well."


It rained again that night.

"The weather's crappy wherever we go, huh, Reina?" Kumiko joked, closing the curtains and flopping down onto the bed. "Maybe we're bad luck."

"Maybe." Reina was just about to fall asleep already. "How long do you think we'll be here, Kumiko?" Kumiko shrugged.

"I dunno, maybe a few more days? I want to see Natsuki again and spend time with her, she's probably been lonely with Luce as her only roommate. I owe her that much, at least."

"What do you mean?"

"Huh?"

"What do you 'owe her?'"

"Ah, nothing too big." Kumiko snuggled deeper under the covers. "J-just . . . she let me go on this whole adventure thing with you, even though . . . even though she knew she'd be alone. Things sucked for her, and she still let me go. She still wanted me to be happy, despite everything."

"That doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me."

"I guess it's not." Reina wrapped her arms around Kumiko's, warm and comforting. "Still, what can I say to her when I see her? What could I say? What kind of 'thank you' is big enough for that?"

"I can't say that I have the answers to any of that," Reina sighed. "Believe me, I wish I did. Some people are just good, I suppose. They care a lot, or they're willing to make huge sacrifices for the ones they love. You were willing to uproot your entire life to follow me on a train-hopping journey, that's something. Your friends - the two baristas - are always lifting each other up without any knowledge of how difficult things are for the other. That's something." Kumiko let out an inadvertent yawn.

"That's college for you," she mumbled. "I wouldn't have been able to come up with something that well-put."

"You'll come up with something when you see your roommate again, I'm sure of it." Reina closed her eyes, resting on her pillow. "I'm . . . mrf."


"W-what if she doesn't let us stay at her place?" Kumiko fretted as Reina left a pile of coins on the bedside table, her suitcase rolling behind her. "Should we really be checking out already?"

"If she's half the person you think of her as, I'm sure that she won't mind." Reina stepped out the door with a sense of purpose, but Kumiko noticed an uneasiness in her step that hadn't been there the day before.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?" Kumiko looked down at the cracks in the sidewalk, tiny plants just beginning to sprout inside of them.

"No reason."


'"Gone fishing.' Great." Kumiko stepped back from the apartment door, looking again at the scrap of paper taped to the door, the handwriting recognizable from anywhere. "She could be anywhere, y'know, and waiting here would kinda ruin the surprise."

"Your friends said that today was a day off for them, wouldn't it be obvious for her to go out when she didn't have to worry about her job?"

"You don't know Natsuki all that well, Reina." Kumiko began to walk down the carpeted hallway. "She's kind of a homebody."

"You haven't seen her in almost a year," Reina pointed out. "Maybe she's changed."

"That's what scares me." Kumiko stopped in her tracks as she looked down at the never-ending pattern on the carpet.

"Hmm?"

"W-what if we left everyone behind? What if things're different now, Reina? Doesn't that scare you?"

"I can't say that it does." Reina kept on walking ahead. "But . . . I think I know why you're worried."

"It's nice to be missed," Kumiko said ruefully. "What if she's just forgotten me completely?"

"She wouldn't do that." Reina pressed the flickering button to the elevator, keeping her gaze hidden. "It's hard to forget the person you've given everything up for."

"Do you have anyone like that, Reina?" Kumiko teased. The elevator doors slid open.

"Of course not," Reina scoffed. "I'm still trying to become special, after all. You can't do that if you're willing to throw away most of your life for any single person, no matter how important they are to you."

"You're a real romantic."

"It's the truth." Kumiko could see her reflection, hers and Reina's, in the smeared metal doors, fake-gold paint nearly peeling off. "It was a lonely path, for a long time, but now it's not."

"Why not?"

"I have you." The elevator grumbled to a stop. "Come on, I've heard that the park looks beautiful this time of year."

"You've been there, you dork," Kumiko chuckled. "It's not 'hearing about it' if you know what it's like!"

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Reina retorted, head held high as she stepped out the doors. "I'll face you to the park."

"You're on."


Twenty minutes, about a half mile, and several realizations of the fact that riding on trains for most of the day didn't translate well into lower body strength, two extremely tired young women flopped down on a hill that had once been home to a conversation about fairytales once upon a time.

"That was - huff - easier when - khack - I had to walk everywhere," Kumiko panted.

"I - huff - won, though," Reina breathed.

"Sure, Jan." Kumiko was just about ready to pass out when she caught sight of a familiar shape sitting on a nearby bench. "Uh, Reina? I'm going to go and check out that bench over there, I'll just be a second." Reina feebly gave her a thumbs-up from her position on the hill. Kumiko stood up, tentative, and as she walked closer she knew with a certainty that her hunch had been right. "Natsuki?" The woman on the bench's head shot up, disbelief on her face as she walked closer.

"No way . . . Kumiko?" Kumiko wiped at the tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes.

"Yeah." Luce peeked out from the hood of Natsuki's sweater. "Y-yeah, it is me." Hardly two seconds had passed before the two were tightly hugging, and Kumiko felt warm and safe despite the biting weather. Natsuki pulled away, her lopsided grin starting to return.

"How have ya been? It's been, what, a year?"

"Nine months." Kumiko shuffled her feet awkwardly. "It's been wonderful, really, b-but it's hard knowing that you're miles and miles away from nearly everyone who knows you."

"I've missed you too, ya nerd."

"I mean, Reina's amazing, and I couldn't ask for anything better, but-"

"I know." Luce settled back down into the hood. "Say, where is umbrella girl, anyway?"

"We raced here, she's lying down on the hill over there."

"Would she mind if I joined her?"

"Probably not. I mean, you never really minded when she came to our movie nights, she'd be f-fine with repaying the favor." Natsuki stifled a laugh.

"Sure, sure," she said. "Speaking of which, you've missed out on a lot of great stuff lately. There's this one show I've been really into, the first season kinda sucks but it gets really, really good in the second one. There's a detective and a spy."

"That sounds right up my alley." The two reached the hill, where Reina was still looking up at the mid-morning sky. "Maybe we could, uh, watch it back at your place or something."

"Alright, but you two are sleeping on the couch."

"Hey, I'm not the one who brought a new girl back to the apartment every other day!"

"That doesn't change the fact that I don't really want to see you two adorably cuddling, like I'm sure ya always do."

"You have a point."

"Kumiko? Is that you?" Reina flipped over to face her as Natsuki settled down onto the grass. "You found her."

"What, am I some kinda lost dog?"

"Well, there's a cat making her way down your sweater at the moment." Natsuki blinked, picking up Luce from where she was starting to claw her way to the hill.

"She's gotten really big since the last time I saw her," Kumiko noted. "You haven't been giving Natsuki any trouble, have you?" she cooed. Reina tentatively patted the cat on the head.

"She's not a bad companion," Natsuki said, affectionately scratching Luce behind the ears.

"I'm glad you have her," Kumiko murmured. "It seems like it was just yesterday that I brought her into the apartment. It's good to have someone with you." Natsuki stiffened.

"Y-yeah," she muttered. "I have her."

"Natsuki? Is something-"

"I'm fine." Natsuki stood up, dusting the grass from her pants. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"I'm s-sorry-"

"You've got a good life, Kumiko." Luce pawed at Natsuki's leg as the older girl began to walk away. "Don't waste it on nostalgia, alright?"

"What was that about?" Reina whispered. Kumiko didn't move.


"Y-you want to head back already?"

"Your roommate clearly didn't want us staying in your- her apartment, and we've already checked out of the hotel. If you want to find someplace else or-"

"N-no, it's fine. We can, uh, we can do that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! Yeah, of course I am. I mean, I've already seen my old friends. Staying here any longer would just be kinda sad."

"I'll book the tickets, then." Reina sat down, her phone screen lighting up the evening sidewalk. "I'm glad that we did this, though. You seem . . . satisfied."

"Right. Yeah. Should we head to the station, then?"

"Of course."


Months passed. Kumiko took a tight hold of Reina's hand wherever the two of them went, as if she would disappear if she didn't. The trains rolled along on schedule, the seasons changing, and soon the first hints of snowflakes began to fall down past the windows. Kumiko didn't talk about the visit home - was it still home? - and Reina didn't pry about it, but the fact that something was different hung over the two of them like a thick cloud. It wasn't until the current town was coated in a thin powder that either of them said something in the dim light of a hotel room.

"You miss it." Reina stated it more like a fact than anything, keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Y-yeah," Kumiko admitted. "B-but . . . I want to keep on doing this with you, Reina. I mean, how many people get to travel with the love of their life? Isn't that something special?"

"We've been living this life of wanderers for almost a year, now, Kumiko. I wouldn't stop trying to become special just because we settled down somewhere." Reina turned to face her, a grim sort of determination in her eyes.

"This is what you wanted, though, isn't it? I couldn't make you give it up, that'd be selfish."

"You're not making me give it up." Reina moved in closer as her hand rested on Kumiko's leg. "I'm doing this of my own accord."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I've never done anything I'm not sure about, Kumiko." Kumiko figured that it might've been a trick of the light, but she thought that she saw a genuine twinkle in Reina's smile, and she was reminded once again of the ice queen she had once seen the girl in front of her as, the fairytale and Natsuki's manic pixie dream girl, and she thought that perhaps there were rare times when reality was far, far better.


The building was nearly buried under a thick layer of snow, but Kumiko trampled through nonetheless with Reina as negotiations were made with the landlord and a fair sum of crumpled bills was exchanged.

"I'm going to start setting up," Reina said, giving Kumiko a kiss on the cheek before walking down the hall. "Good luck." Kumiko tentatively knocked on the door, hands trembling for reasons other than the cold.

"Yeah? Who is it? Listen, if it's the solicitors again, I swear I'm gonna-" Natsuki opened the door as she muttered to herself. She looked up, bewilderment plain on her face.

"Hey, neighbor."


a/n: i just...want natsuki to be happy okay

thanks again to everyone who supported the coffeeshop au and everything else i've written since, you guys are what keep me motivated.