AN: Wow, late night upload. It's the fall season for anime! You know what that means.
Yes, Hibigay! My babies are finally back, bless them.
First episode really killed me with the gay. It's insane, really. And I can feel myself slipping into the Natsuki/Nozomi and Nozomi/Asuka ships. It's inevitable, I can feel it.
Oh, and of course, it calls for Kumirei too. So I hope you enjoy this drabble of mine. It's like fluff without much of a plot, really-I just wanted to do something with these two. And to try out writing in present-tense.
Forgive mistakes you see; trying something new with my writing style and sleep-deprivation don't mix well.
Thanks for reading.
Ciao. c:
"Do you like music?"
Reina stops what she is doing and turns her head to face Kumiko, who is staring right at her. Reina raises an eyebrow.
"What?" She asks, unsure if she heard her right.
Kumiko breaks eye contact and prefers to stare out over the railing lining the rooftop. The sun is just above the man-made horizon created from the buildings in the far distance. There is a blinding glare coming from Kumiko's euphonium, and Reina has to shield her eyes to stop herself from going blind.
Kumiko, however, notices none of this and continues to absently stare off into the distance. "I asked if you like music," she repeats much more quietly.
"…Why?" Reina's voice is cautious, like she's treading on thin ice.
There is the faint sound of valves moving up and down coming from Kumiko's euph as she fiddles with them. Reina identifies this as a small quirk, something that only happens when Kumiko is deep in thought or nervous—or both.
"Just curious I guess," Kumiko finally decides to say. But Reina can hear the uncertainty in her voice, as if she was lying not only to Reina, but to herself as well.
It's a bad habit of Kumiko's, Reina notices.
And, being a good friend, Reina decides to call Kumiko out on it. "Liar," she declares. Her volume is as soft as the breeze between them, yet her tone is bold and carries all the assurance in the world. Kumiko breaks into a sheepish smile and turns over to stare at Reina. Her caramel-colored eyes shine as brightly as her instrument in the setting sun; her soft hair dances in the passing breeze; and her lips are in a small pout, waiting patiently for an answer. Reina tries to answer, but she feels the tail of her breath getting caught in her throat—the rest escape her mouth as a quiet, inaudible sigh.
It's a bad habit of hers to get caught off-guard by Kumiko, Reina notices.
"…Is it a weird question to ask?" Kumiko asks, her bluntness shattering the delicacy of silence.
Reina smiles. "Yes."
Kumiko, in turn, allows her frown to deepen. "Then you're not going to answer?"
"Only if you answer first."
"Why are you being difficult?"
Reina shrugs and looks out to the horizon. The sun is now sinking, hiding itself behind the skyline. "I'm not used to these kinds of questions," she admits, her voice coming out much softer than she expects.
"Really?"
"Really."
Kumiko lets out a huff of air. "That's surprising," she says as she resumes to press the valves of her euphonium again. "Don't people usually approach you with music questions? Because you're so good at it."
Reina shrugs again. "They ask about the music. Never the why."
"Is there such a difference?"
"There is."
"So," Kumiko begins as she forces herself to still for a moment, "why do you play, then?"
Reina can't help the crooked smile that tugs on her lips. "I told you already, didn't I?" She says as she turns to face Kumiko, who is wearing a smile, one between sheepishness and guilt—the face of someone who already knows the answer to the question she asked.
"But why do you want to be special? Why does it have to be playing the trumpet?"
Kumiko has a bad habit of asking questions, Reina notices.
And they just had to be hard questions, too.
Reina takes a breath in order to collect her thoughts, and leans against the railing behind her. It gives a cry of strained pain, but neither of the girls pay it no mind as Reina hums to collect her thoughts.
"Do you remember what we played for our middle school competition?"
"The one we got a dud gold in?"
Reina winces visibly; the wound from their loss still hasn't closed yet. "Yes, that one."
"Mm…didn't we play the theme from Orpheus?"
"Do you know when it was made?"
Kumiko's smile turns upside down, transforming into the slightest of frowns. "Were we supposed to?"
This time, it's Reina who lets out a huff of amusement. "No. But it's been around for a long time."
"Well, I knew that."
"Do you know why it's remembered for more than two hundred years?"
"Entertain me."
Reina looks forward, noticing that the sun is poking its head just above the horizon. Its rays leave streaks of purple and indigo in its wake, but a halo of fading orange outlines the skyline. In the back of her mind, she notices how beautiful the sunset really was, and wonders when was the last time she actually stopped to appreciate everything around her.
The memories that come to her mind all had something in common: Kumiko.
"I think," Reina finally says, still staring at the beauty in front of her, "that it's remembered because it's special. Because it stands out from the rest. Like there are so many pieces of music in the world, there are many people in the world, and of those people, there are a good number of trumpeters. I want to be special because I want to stand out. I don't want to conform. I want to be heard—I want to be appreciated. And if playing trumpet will help me do that," she tightens her grip on her instrument, one of the very few things she cherishes more than her own life, "then I will gladly do it."
"Wow," Kumiko breathes out. Reina could hear the smile in her voice. "I thought you were going to say it's because you want Taki-sensei to notice you or something like that."
Kumiko's cry of pain echos through the empty campus.
"But wait," she begins, rubbing the sore spot on her cheek where Reina decided to pinch her, "that doesn't answer my first question."
Reina doesn't say anything, but gives her an irritated raising of an eyebrow.
"Do you like music?"
They have a bad habit of deviating from the initial question, Reina notices.
"Well," Reina takes her time in answering, mapping out her sentences and plotting her words, "if it makes me special, then yes, you can say I like music."
"And if it doesn't? Would you still like music?"
Reina turns back to Kumiko, who is staring straight at her, as usual. Once again, Reina feels her breath do a ritardando, while her pulse accelerates. Her beating heart crescendos until it's the only thing she can hear, and her lips tickle with the crushingly strong urge to lean over and kiss Kumiko right on her—
"Whenever I play music with you, it feels special," Reina suddenly declares, voicing her thoughts before her brain even had time to process them. She curses herself immediately after.
Kumiko's bad habits are beginning to rub off onto her, Reina notices.
And Kumiko is beginning to grab onto Reina's habit of impassiveness—her face is blank, and those expressive caramel eyes of hers suddenly turn into placid mud.
"Really?" She asks, her voice surprisingly steady.
Reina feels her palms beginning to clam, and fearing that her grip on her trumpet will falter, she tightens her hold.
"Really," Reina assures, her voice surprisingly quiet.
Then Kumiko breaks into a grin, a grin that makes her eyes shine brighter than brass, and Reina thinks she's going to go blind if she stares at Kumiko's beauty any longer.
If she had any lingering feelings towards Taki-sensei, Reina knows at that moment, they all fled with the wind.
"You feel that way, too?" Kumiko asks, her grin never breaking.
Reina can't believe her own ears. "Do you?"
Kumiko has the audacity to look abashed, her cheeks being smeared red as she looks off to the side. "Not all the time," she admits. "I actually used to think that music was a pain."
Reina stays quiet, but is intrigued and waits for Kumiko to continue. She watches as the girl fidgets about.
"I really only got into it because my sister was in a band," Kumiko says, looking up.
"Really?"
"Really."
"So you didn't find it enjoyable, then?"
"In the beginning, I did. I really loved that sense of wonder, you know? I think every beginning musician gets that feeling—you know, the one where it gets all light and fuzzy in your chest because you can't help but feel proud over every little thing?"
A tug of nostalgia pulls on Reina's lips as an image of a younger her crosses her mind, but she says nothing.
"I mean, I got that. But as time went on, the magic…faded, I guess. Like it just became work for me to just play a piece, and even if I liked it, everything felt empty, you know? And I considered dropping a couple of times, and I don't know what, but something made me keep with music," Kumiko says, shrugging as she clumsily sums up the jumble of words going through her mind. "But now that i'm in highschool, I think I found something that's certainly keeping me in band."
Reina tilts her head to the side, her fringe following her movements. "What is it?" she asks.
Kumiko takes a shaky breath before looking up to stare Reina dead in the eye.
"You," she breathes.
Reina feels herself shutting down: her fingers are frigidly numb, and she can't tell if she's gripping onto her trumpet or if she is letting go; her ears are scalding, and she can't tell if her entire face is red or not; her heart is ramming itself into her ribcage, and she can't tell if she's shocked or happy or both or if she's about to go into cardiac arrest.
But one thing she cannot deny is how breathtaking Kumiko is.
From her askew bangs to the curve of her nose Reina traced many times before; from her terrible personality to her amiable smile; from her stupid clumsiness to her surprising clarity; Kumiko was a plethora of puzzles that Reina wanted to solve, and a paradox that she was fascinated by.
To be recognized by someone so stupidly precious like Kumiko, Reina believes, is beyond special.
"I feel the same way," Reina mutters under her breath.
"Do you?" Kumiko asks, unable swallow the grin growing on her face.
"Yeah," Reina says, "I really do."
There's a moment of silence before Kumiko makes a nervous noise, a cross between a giggle and a chuckle.
"So…what do we do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like," Kumiko shifts again, looking off to the side, "what does this make us?"
Reina wastes no time in her response. "It's a confession of love, of course."
Kumiko laughs again, but this time it's much more relaxed, more genuine. Such a sound makes Reina's chest swell with emotion, and for some reason, she feels the slightest need to cry.
Perhaps this is the same feeling people feel when a song moves them to tears.
"What's up with you and love?" Kumiko asks, her voice shaky from amusement.
It's a bad habit of Kumiko's to be oblivious to other people's feelings, Reina notices.
"I'm being serious," Reina says as she knits her eyebrows together, staring disapprovingly at Kumiko.
Her smile never falters. "I know, I know. But why can't you ever say it straight?"
"Is something wrong with that?"
Kumiko shrugs and busies herself with setting her euphonium on the ground, bell-down. "It's a bad habit of yours," she says.
Reina smiles despite herself. "Says you; you have a lot of bad habits yourself."
Kumiko returns Reina's smile with one of her own. "Sue me."
And as they look into each other again, Reina stares on, taking in every little feature of the beautiful girl in front of her, before she finally, finally, gives into the temptation of kissing Kumiko.
With a small step forward, Reina leans to close the distance.
Kumiko makes a squawk of surprise, no doubt caught off-guard, but surprisingly pulls herself together as she leans in to reciprocate the kiss. It's clumsy and far from perfect, their lips off-set, but Reina has no qualms at all; the only thing she can focus on is Kumiko, and only Kumiko. Even the pounding bass of her heartbeat was nothing more than a drone to Reina.
And, just as spontaneously as it happened, they both pull back, and they both share grins with one another, reveling in the knowledge that they just shared something very, very special with one another.
"Is this a good time to say I love you, now?" Kumiko asks, never faltering in her grin.
Reina laughs and nods. "No better time," she whispers.
"Then," Kumiko leans close so that they're touching their foreheads with one another, but never breaks eye contact, "I love you, Reina."
In that moment, Reina finds herself wondering how someone so ordinary can suddenly become so special.
Yes, Reina likes music.
Yes, Reina likes to be special.
But above all that, Reina loves Kumiko for all she is, bad habits included.
And that, Reina believes, is a special feeling that playing trumpet can never give her.
Maybe that's the reason she says, "I love you" back.