a/n: i can't believe i'm writing something as cliche as a directly post-canon fic but kyoani never makes third seasons so hibike is ours now and so this is happening and it's going to be gay as hell

Kumiko adjusted the blue scarf in front of the mirror, tugging at the ends of it as she kept one eye on the clock.

"Kumiko?" her mother called. "You know that you don't have to get going this early, right?"

"I know!" Kumiko yelled back. "I'm, uh, meeting with a friend! We haven't seen each other much over the break, I want to catch up with her!"

"If you insist." Kumiko snatched a breakfast pastry from the kitchen counter before bounding out the door, one hand kept tightly on her bag.

The walk to the train was surprisingly peaceful. The cherry blossoms had just barely started to bloom, and Kumiko caught sight of several other students in the same uniform she now wore - many of them strangers.

I'll have to introduce myself to the new kids when I get there, she thought. The train station came into view, as did Reina, her hands curled around the railing.

"Oh, Kumiko," she said, taking out one earbud when she saw the other girl. "I wasn't expecting you to make it here on time."

"Was that an insult?" Reina smiled smugly, turning away with her hands crossed behind her back.

"Quite the contrary, actually."

"Another confession of love?"

"Perhaps." Kumiko was about to ask what she meant, about to figure out the seriousness of her tone, when the train wailed into the station and Reina stepped on without another word.

"I wonder what the new first-years will be like," Kumiko mused as she settled down onto a seat. Reina sat beside her. "How many of them do you think'll join the band?"

"A lot, I hope. Taki-sensei's become more well-known as the advisor, and the notoriety of us having reached Nationals is bound to draw in more students." A light blush dusted Reina's cheeks when she mentioned the teacher, and Kumiko stuffed down the feeling of jealousy that resided in her gut.

"It might scare them off, too."

"What do you mean?"

"W-well, a lot of people joined the band without thinking it'd be that hard, right? Natsuki's told me what it was like before Taki-sensei, it sounded pretty relaxed. Now we've got this famous conductor and a Nationals trophy-"

"Bronze medal."

"-under our belts, it's pretty obvious that it's not going to be as loose."

"Obviously." Reina drummed her fingers on the window. "What's your point?"

"They'll be intimidated."

"Good." Reina looked out at the morning sky, dyed shades of pale pinks and blues as the sun rose. "There won't be any slackers." The train screeched to a halt, and Reina stood up from her seat, offering Kumiko a hand. "They're all waiting for us."

Kumiko couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia as she approached the school, her arm linked with Reina's.

"It feels like it's been so long," she murmured.

"It's only been a little over a month," Reina replied matter-of-factly, waving to a member of the clarinet section - now adorned in the third-year uniform with a younger sibling on her arm - as she continued walking.

"Yeah, but it's . . . different, now, y'know? A third of the school's gone and replaced with a bunch of strangers."

"This is about Asuka-senpai, isn't it?" Reina sighed. Kumiko guiltily thought of the tattered booklet resting in her bag, the pages poured over and read until she had nearly memorized it all.

"Maybe."

"There's no time for this, anyway." Reina took Kumiko by the hand, weaving her way through the crowds expertly, until the two of them reached the entrance to the building.

"Where're we going?"

"Didn't you sign up for the introductory concert, too?"

"The . . . the what?"

"I could've sworn that I saw your name on the signup sheet." Kumiko briefly remembered clicking a button on her computer late at night in mid-March, and she could feel her face turning red as Reina sighed. "We're supposed to play for the students, as a preview of sorts."

"Oh. Right."

"Everyone's going to meet in the music room, I'll wait for you to get the euphonium from its case in storage."

"Do you think any of the new kids would want to play it? The euphonium, I mean." Reina shrugged.

"I don't know."

"It'd be nice if there was. Someone I could take under my wing, like Asuka did with me."

"I don't think I'd call how she was 'taking you under her wing' so much as it was . . . a strange bond between euphs. A situational thing. I never knew her very well, and I never trusted her, and that's not about to change anytime soon."

"Right." The two girls reached the storage room, and Kumiko dashed to the euphoniums almost instantly. "There it is," she breathed, picking hers from the shelf and hoisting it behind her back.

"What was it that Kawashima said once, about the . . . instruments picking their owner, or something?"

"I don't remember, but that sounds like her." Kumiko was already on her way out the door, silently berating herself for not staying in shape during the break. Her arms already felt like limp noodles, and she'd hardly left the room.

"We're here," Kumiko breathed shakily. Reina intertwined her fingers with Kumiko's, giving her hand a tight squeeze.

"We'll be fine. Now, there's no use in waiting here. They'll all be waiting." Reina tucked her trumpet case underneath her arm before sliding open the door. Hazuki was the first one to notice the two girls standing in the doorway, and she practically tackled Kumiko into a hug as soon as she did. Reina politely stepped out of the way.

"Kumiko!" Hazuki chirped, standing back. "I haven't seen you since graduation! How have you been?"

"I've been, uh, I've been good." Kumiko became acutely aware of the thirty pairs of eyes now on her, faces that had grown familiar to her over the past year. "Where's Midori?" Hazuki shrugged.

"She said that she wanted to go up to the roof and reconnect with George-kun, I think? I just let her do it, no sense in trying to stop her! That girl's like a hurricane, I'll tell you that. A tiny, keychain-loving hurricane."

"Hey, euphonium girl!" Nozomi called. Mizore stood beside her, intently testing her oboe. "Are you ready for another year? We're gonna make it to Nationals again, and we'll win this time!" Mizore silently pumped her fist in the air.

"That's the spirit," Natsuki said, lightly punching Nozomi on the shoulder. "Kumiko! I never thought ya'd make it here, there was a betting pool to see whether or not you'd be late."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to conduct, idiot?" Yuuko hissed, standing behind her with fists clenched. Natsuki turned around and mock-bowed, a crooked smirk balanced on her face.

"Ah, but of course, Madam President," she airily sighed. Kumiko could practically see the steam coming out of Yuuko's ears.

"It's the same as it's always been," Reina whispered. Kumiko nodded.

"I'm glad."

Yuuko had, of course, decided on the ever-reliable Crescent Moon Dance as the song for the band's outdoor performance. Kumiko could see a crowd of first-year students forming from where she stood, some eagerly pointing while others critically kept their eyes on Yuuko's swift baton movements, which were oddly in tune with the bouncing of her ribbon. She could see at least one gawking over Reina's solo, eyes wide. The song faded out, and Kumiko set down the euphonium to look down the stairs. It was an odd feeling, looking from this end of it all, down at the doe-eyed younger students.

I'll make you proud, Asuka-senpai, she thought, taking a bow in clumsy tune with the rest of the band. I promise.

"I'm so glad that we're in the same class again!" Hazuki squealed, settling down into her new desk with a grin that would've made the sun look dull by comparison. "Say, where's Midori? I thought she'd be here by now, she was on the list for 2-4 too, wasn't she?"

"I'll find her." Kumiko set down her bag, already trying to remember the way to the roof. "We have to look out for each other, right?" Hazuki gave her a thumbs-up.

"That's the spirit! I'll tell the teacher that you're in the bathroom if he comes in!" Kumiko was in the hallway by the time Hazuki had finished her sentence.

"Midori?" Kumiko yelled, looking back and forth. I'm calling her like she's a dog. "Midori, class is starting in a couple of minutes!" She took a deep breath, ready to continue her relentless search, when a younger student barreled into her and immediately jumped back as if she was poisonous.

"I'm sorry, S-Senpai!" the underclassman yelped, bowing their head before dashing off.

"I'm not a-" Kumiko looked down at her uniform, the navy-blue ribbon flapping slightly from the air conditioning. "Oh. Right."

She reached the roof soon enough, and was about to turn back when she saw a blonde ahoge bobbing above the heaters.

"Midori! Hazuki's been waiting for you, class is about to start!" Kumiko walked over to the smaller girl, surprised by how peaceful she looked. Midori was sitting on the edge of her contrabass - she's probably the only one who could get away with that without crushing it, Kumiko thought - as she watched the fluffy clouds drift along.

"The sky's pretty, isn't it?" Midori murmured. "It's so blue. It feels so close to the clouds up here, like I could just reach out and-" she stretched a hand out to the air, eyes sparkling "-touch them."

"Yeah." Kumiko crouched down beside her. "I can't believe we're here already. Second-years. It's kinda scary, isn't it?"

"That's why we need to take breaks like this. We have to remember that the world's going slowly, just like those clouds, just like the sky."

"You'd get along well with Reina," Kumiko chuckled.

"Kousaka-san? Yeah, I was disappointed when I learned we'd be in different classes again this year. She's learned from the best, she's amazing!"

"She really is." Kumiko smiled, warm tendrils wrapping around her heart. Midori looked over at her curiously, still precariously balanced on her contrabass.

"Say, Kumiko?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there . . . someone you like?" Kumiko stiffened.

"N-no, no, of course not!" she yelped, frantically waving her hands like a soldier calling surrender. "Nobody! Who gave you that idea?"

"Hazuki did." Midori looked back up at the sky, pointedly avoiding eye contact. "She's still sad over Tsukamoto, you know. First loves, they're not so easily forgotten."

"I told you, I don't like him like that," Kumiko groaned.

"Of course you'd say that," Midori retorted. "You're too good of a friend, you care about Hazuki too much! You'd never date Tsukamoto, not when it'd break her already battered heart. Oh, you're so noble, Kumiko!"

"We have to get to class," Kumiko muttered. She could feel the familiar discomfort unwinding in her gut.

"There's no shame in telling me your feelings, you know." Midori continued to hound her as the two of them descended the stairs. "I won't tell Hazuki, I promise."

"There's nothing there. I don't like him that way, that's all there is to it."

"He gave you the hairpin, didn't he?" Kumiko considered herself a polite person when she tried to be, but Midori was grating on her patience in a way she'd have never expected her to - how could someone be mad at a human teddy bear, after all? And yet, Midori's chattering was doing nothing but aggravate her further.

I'm not going to become a bitter upperclassman. I'm not going to become a bitter upperclassman.

". . . oh, and the red string of fate, isn't that something you believe in? What if Tsukamoto's your soulmate?" The two girls had reached the entrance to the classroom. "How do you know you're not in love with-"

"I'm a lesbian, okay?!" Immediately, twenty-seven students swiveled their heads like owls to stare at her. Kumiko turned beet-red when she realized what she'd said, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"That'll be certainly enough, Oumae-san," the teacher - a gray-haired man with his expression hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses - sighed. "Keep your theatrics to yourself, will you? It really is true, teenage girls always go to the bathroom in pairs." Kumiko was about to ask what he meant when she remembered her excuse. Hazuki winked at her.

"That was so brave, Kumiko!" she breathed, somehow managing to still sound loud even when she was whispering. "You sacrificed your own dignity to keep Midori's lateness under wraps!"

"T-that's . . . not what happened." Kumiko traced the scratched-in graffiti on her desk with her pointer finger, shaking. "I'll explain it all to you two before practice, okay?" Hazuki shrugged.

"Okay." Kumiko took a deep breath before taking her books from her bag.

"Okay."

The school day passed along at a sluggish pace as syllabi were handed out, teachers droned on about the upcoming year and students stared ahead, dead-eyed. All Kumiko could think about was practice, and she regretted not practicing during the break.

"I'm going to be so rusty," she groaned as Hazuki and Midori flanked her at either side, heading to the music room. Midori hopped in front of her, blocking the way.

"You can't just change the subject and not tell us what happened back there!" she squeaked adamantly. "It's not fair, both to me and Hazuki!" Kumiko rubbed her temples.

"Fine," she sighed. "You can't tell anyone else, though, okay?" Hazuki and Midori nodded in unison. "It's exactly what I said. I'm a lesbian. Gay. I like girls." Midori continued nodding, while Hazuki's expression went blank.

"Oh!" she blurted out, about thirty seconds later. "That's why you don't like Shuichi back!"

"Yeah." Kumiko scuffed the floor with her shoes, relief warm in her limbs. "I didn't really want to, y'know, say it outright, but you two kinda forced my hand."

"That's what's been bothering you, then?" Midori inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been on edge all day," Hazuki said. "I guess it was just this! Don't worry, your secret's safe with us!"

"Uh, okay." Kumiko hadn't thought of herself as tense - Midori had pulled her nerves taut as a string until she had to snap, but she hadn't felt nervous or frustrated before that. "Let's go." Hazuki dramatically pushed open the sliding doors, entering with a triumphant grin.

"Miss me?" she sighed, leaning against the wall with a hand gingerly pressed to her forehead.

"Erm, Hazuki-chan, we saw you earlier this morning," Riko said, looking up from polishing her tuba. "It's nice to see you again, though!"

"Sentimental as always, eh, Riko?" Natsuki said as she folded her hands behind her head, her euphonium nowhere in sight. "I get that. It's nice, isn't it? Seeing the whole gang back together - or, most of the gang, anyway." Asuka's normal seat was noticeably empty, Haruka's old saxophone strap hung on a peg near the photograph of the band hung on the wall, and a box of pastries sent from Kaori through priority mail sat untouched underneath it. The room was filled with blue and green ribbons, without a single first-year to be seen.

"I'm sure that they're all doing fine," Gotou grunted. "We should focus on the here and now."

"The 'here and now' being that we don't have nearly enough students," Yuuko muttered from the other end of the room. Kumiko could see the bags under her eyes, the way she kept on tugging at her ribbon, and she knew that the older girl was stressed. "Taki-sensei isn't going to be able to work with this. We won't be able to make it to the Nationals and follow Kaori-senpai's dream." Yuuko started to go teary-eyed at her own mention of the band's old mother figure, wobbling over to Kumiko and grabbing her by the scruff of her shirt. "We'll be failing her, Oumae!"

"Now, now, Prez, don't go scaring her," Natsuki sighed, trying to pull Yuuko away with little success. "We don't wanna lose anyone else."

"Hah, because then you'd be the only euphonium left? There'd go our chances at Nationals."

"Care to say that again, Miss-"

"Uh, is this the place for the concert band?" The doors had slid open to reveal a young boy nervously fidgeting with his glasses. "If this is the wrong room, than I'm deeply-" Yuuko shoved Natsuki out of the way, speeding to the boy before fishing a signup sheet from her bag.

"Yes! This is the place, Kitauji High School's very own concert band, and I'm the highly esteemed president."

"Sure you are," Natsuki groaned from the floor.

"And that's my . . . assistant."

"'Assistant,' my ass, we're practically equals." The boy, bewildered, started to slowly back away.

"No, wait, don't go!" Yuuko yelped. The boy paused. "Please. We don't have enough members. We lost a ton because of an . . . incident two years ago, and now we don't have any of the old third-years, either. We won't be able to keep it up like this!"

"Okay, I'll-"

"We'll be shut down and then Taki-sensei will be out of a job and everyone who's hinged their whole lives on music will be miserable in the streets, begging whatever god they believe in for just one more chance, one more chance to prove themselves, just one little miracle like you!" Yuuko was in hysterics, now, her breaths coming in gulps as the boy signed the sheet.

"Where'd that come from?" Natsuki muttered. "Practice the introductory speech next time, will ya?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Yuuko hissed.

"Like cats and dogs," Riko said, smiling.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," Midori mused. "Remember when Asuka-senpai introduced herself with a fake hand and some candy?"

"How could I forget?" Kumiko chuckled.

"So, what should I . . . do?" the boy piped up, holding the sheet close to his chest. "Do you need anything more?"

"The sheet'll do for now," Yuuko said, delicately snatching it from his hands. "We're still setting everything up, so feel free to just watch."

"What do you know, that actually sounded responsible," Natsuki snickered.

"That'd be worth a heck of a lot more if it wasn't coming from someone like you," Yuuko retorted. The boy plopped down on a crate in mild discomfort as Natsuki and Yuuko continued their incessant bickering, and Kumiko couldn't help but laugh at the familiar scene.

It's going to be an interesting year, alright.

a/n: here we go