a/n: this all came from kina grannis's song "songbird" and also my unending love for nozomizo. it was tough to write because the movie was so perfect but i tried my best.


Mizore liked college.

She didn't love it, just as she'd never loved high school or middle school, but she loved the oboe and she'd found a few people who did as well, and that was enough for her.

Nozomi still messaged her, often, with blurry pictures of her new friends and workbooks, and usually she'd respond with pictures of her own. The blue feather still sat in her dorm, kept safe, secure.

So, mostly she liked college, knew that it had been the right decision. Mostly didn't mean always, though, and there were nights . . . well, there were nights when the room seemed to swallow her whole, loneliness enveloping her, no matter how hard she tried to block it out.

Which was what brought her here, to the library, checking out yet another copy of that fairytale. She'd memorized it already, of course, but something comforted her about seeing those two girls illustrated on the page. They looked different this time, she realized with a jolt, then realized that this was a different edition, a different illustrator. Of course not everyone would see those girls the way she had. Regardless, whoever had drawn them in this particular book still managed to capture the emotions flowing between the two of them, the sadness and bittersweet weight of what had to be done conveyed in masterful watercolor strokes. It made her cry.

"Hey, Mizo-chan?" Mizore looked up to see one of her bandmates, a girl whose name she didn't quite remember, standing over her with hands folded behind her back. "You seemed really into that book, huh?"

"Oh. Yes." Slowly, softly, Mizore closed it. "Last year - in high school - we played a song based on the story."

"Wow, really?" The girl leaned over to get a better look. "That's so cool! The only things we ever played in high school were boring marches, that's why I almost didn't keep up my study of the horn. Good thing I did, though!"

"Yeah, you're really good." Mizore twirled a strand of hair around her finger - it was getting duller, somewhere in the back of her mind she figured she'd have to dye it again soon. "Have you read it? The book?"

"Hmm? Nope, I don't think so." The girl - Ai, that was her name, Mizore dimly recalled - reached out a hand, as if to ask permission. Mizore slid it towards her. "So these two, they're in love?" Mizore nodded.

"Liz - the girl there - is lonely until another girl shows up out of nowhere. Except then it turns out the girl is really a blue bird, and Liz has to let her go."

"That's pretty sad."

"It is."

"Man, your band instructor must've been pretty intense to assign this as a song."

"He was." Mizore handed Ai the book, silently, always silently.

"Thanks! I'll return it soon, yeah?"

"That would be nice." Mizore watched her leave and dug her phone out of her pocket, looked at the name Nozomi at the top of her contacts. She stared at it for a moment until the brightness of the screen made her eyes water, and then she pocketed it again.

Mizore stayed in the library for a while after that, not for any particular reason, just to sit. To think. It was not terrible, but it was not great either.


She didn't know her roommate.

This was not something that bothered her - rather, it was just a simple fact. The two of them had become friendly acquaintances, not much more, and that was fine.

Nozomi: hat. jpg

Nozomi: look!

Nozomi: i got it on sale

Mizore's phone buzzed in her pocket once, twice, three times, until she could not ignore it any longer, and so she set down her oboe for a moment.

Mizore: oh

Mizore: pretty

She put the phone back in her pocket, after that.


It was cold - it was always cold. The music college was in the north, after all. Mizore didn't mind it. She had chapstick, and a scarf that Nozomi had given her before she left. It was blue, and unbelievably soft, and sometimes if she focused hard enough she could still smell her, just for a moment.

So she stood outside, waiting for the train. It was spring break, after all. She'd be returning home.

The train arrived, with the same low wail it always did, and Mizore waited for it to shudder to a stop before she stepped inside. A warm whoosh of air greeted her, thick, nearly choking for a moment before she adjusted. There was nowhere to sit, so she wrapped a hand around the cold metal pole and let the jostle around until someone left their seat.

It was nice, to watch the hills roll by, their gentle slopes.

Mizore reached her destination and stepped off the train.

There was a cab out front, convenient if a bit shabby, the seats peeling to reveal the yellowed stuffing underneath. She told the driver her home address while pulling at one. Kyoto was lovely in the winter, coated in a layer of spring snow that softened everything. Taking out her phone, she snapped a photo of the world outside the cab and sent it to Nozomi.

Mizore: i'm home

There was no response.


Sitting in her childhood bed, Mizore stared up at the ceiling, wishing - stupidly - that she'd brought the feather home with her. It was safe in her dorm room, of course, but still - it was a reminder of her. And even though she was home now, and Nozomi's winter break would follow soon afterwards, she felt more distant than she'd ever been.


Nozomi showed up at her door.

Mizore knew this because school was still in session for Ririka, and Yuuko had decided on a joint "work trip" with Natsuki in lieu of coming home for break, so process of elimination dictated that it had to be Nozomi. If it had been the mailman or something to that effect, they'd have rung the doorbell, not knocked three times in quick succession, which was why Mizore all but flung herself down the stairs, flung open the door, felt her heart turn itself inside out. What Nozomi did to her, oh, it was more power than any one person should have been allowed to have.

"Mizore," Nozomi said, in lieu of a greeting. Mizore felt her stomach flip over, teared up.

"Nozomi," she said, extending one cautious hand. Nozomi took it into her own.

"You've been playing a lot more, hmm?"

"What?"

"Your fingers." Nozomi lifted her hand up, easily, like it was nothing at all, intertwined it with her own. "They're more calloused."

"Oh, right." Mizore pulled it back, tugged at her hair, mostly to give her hands something to do. "It is a music college."

"Must be perfect for you, then." Nozomi crossed the room, then, taking long strides like she always did. She didn't sit, though. She just stood there, a girl displaced. "You like it?"

"I do." And it was true, surprisingly enough. "What about you?"

"Oh, it's nice." Nozomi rummaged around a bookcase, not making eye contact. It was strange to see her out of the old Kitauji uniform, in a navy-blue sweater. They'd rarely hung out away from school, Mizore realized then. It was strange to think that. "I've made some friends already. Plus there's a music club, so I'm still playing the flute. Not as much, but still." She paused, looked at Mizore with one hand on a shelf. "Sometimes."

"That's better than nothing." Mizore kept fidgeting with her hands. She'd never had trouble keeping still - often it was the opposite problem, that she'd be still as a statue - but this time she had to keep them moving. Otherwise she felt like it would be too easy to wrap her arms around Nozomi's shoulders, lean in.

She wouldn't be able to handle that again.

"I miss you," Nozomi said. Mizore nearly trembled, suddenly alert. Some time must have passed, because then she said "Mizore?"

"Yes?" She'd forgotten how her name sounded in Nozomi's mouth, the way it peaked a little at the ee sound. Mi-zo-re. Most of her college friends just called her Yoroizuka.

"Nothing. It's just . . ." Nozomi paused for a moment. "That's it. Sorry for coming here all out of the blue like this."

"That's fine."

"I should be getting home." Nozomi paused with one hand on her sleeve, as if she were adjusting her coat. "You look like you need some sleep."

"I'm fine." The words came out choked. Nozomi took a stiff breath, then stepped towards the door.

"Let's go out sometime soon, yeah? Just the two of us. Like the old days." Something twinged in Mizore's chest right then, and she nodded, more sure of that than she'd been in a long, long time.

"I think I'd like that," Mizore murmured. Nozomi slipped out the door, then waved a little goodbye.

"I'll text you!" she called out, popping her head back in. Mizore chuckled a bit, despite herself.

"I love you," she said, and the words were all too easy to say.


a/n: why is ffn formatting Like That. anyway happy wednesday