a/n: early on in the season, someone on tumblr posted a theory that reina was the one filming the op, and i thought that was adorable, so i started writing this fic. somewhere along the line, i decided not to stop it until the end of the season, and so it became almost a parallel to s2 itself, a mirror of events. it's been a whirlwind of events, these past few months, but i'm not going to stop writing about these nerds. not now, not for a long, long time.
"Okay, is the camera rolling now?"
"It's not supposed to be something you're aware of," Reina sighed, setting the camera down on a free desk. "It's meant to be natural."
"Why'd you tell me you were here, then?" Kumiko took a breath as she stopped playing her euphonium.
"I figured that I'd explain the situation before you started seeing me creep around the school with a camera in my hand with no context."
"Thanks." Kumiko twirled a curl around her finger, leaning back in her chair to face Reina. "Why're you doing this, anyway? N-not that I mind, of course, it seems really cool and stuff, but it's kinda sudden."
"I was thinking about how temporary things are, if you want the truth. We'll be gone from this school in three years, and I'm sure that Taki-sensei won't stick around for much longer, considering how easily he could teach at a better school."
"Still in love with him, then?" Kumiko joked. Reina shot her a glare. "I deserved that."
"Anyway, I realized that it'd be best to leave something behind. We'll make it to the Nationals, I know it, but I don't know what we'll get from it." Reina held the camera in her hands, running a finger along the smooth gray metal. "I'd like the future students to remember us." Kumiko smiled.
"That sounds like something you'd say," she chuckled.
"I suppose it does." Reina picked up the camera again. "Should we start rolling again, then?"
Kumiko soon found that not everyone was quite as willing to be filmed, strutting into an empty classroom with Reina in tow.
"Natsuki?" she said, and Reina hoisted the camera again. Natsuki blinked, looking from Kumiko to Reina to the camera.
"What's that?" she muttered, jabbing a finger in the direction of the camera.
"We'd like to record the experiences of the band for the future students, so that we're more than just a group of faces in a trophy case," Reina explained, lowering the camera down to Natsuki's eye level. Natsuki responded by promptly putting her hand on the lens.
"I'm not a photogenic person," she sighed. Reina nodded in understanding, slowly pulling the camera away. "Asuka's probably willing to do it, though. She's always acting like someone's filming her, it'd probably do her some good to give her an actual audience, ya know." The bitterness in her tone didn't pass Kumiko.
"Natsuki, are you still mad at her about the s-stuff with Nozomi?" Natsuki leaned against the desk, resting her head on the crook of her elbows.
"I don't want ya to get too involved, but . . . yeah." Reina stepped back, unresponsive. "She just wants to be let back into the club, that's all she wants, and Asuka just won't give it to her."
"I'll talk to her," Kumiko promised, wondering how, exactly, she had gotten herself into this situation in the first place.
"We should go," Reina said, and Kumiko nodded.
"It was nice talking to you," she added. Natsuki gave a crooked smile in response.
Reina seemed unresponsive as the duo walked down the hallway, her gaze fixated on the door ahead.
"I'm going home," she muttered.
"Reina, you didn't see how desperate Nozomi was, she j-just wanted to be let back into the club." Kumiko twiddled her thumbs, the fingers rolling over each other in a rhythmic motion. "Don't you think that's an okay reason? Is Nationals worth all of this?"
"It is." Reina turned to face her, fists clenched. "It's worth everything, Kumiko, it's what we've been working towards all along. We can't let anything get in the way of it, no matter how we might feel personally."
"Is that how you always feel about this stuff?" Kumiko's voice was choked, strained, as she tried to keep a level head. "It's all about the best person for the job, the best player, I get that! I get that completely, b-but it doesn't mean that we can just . . . that we can just forget everyone's feelings because we want to be the best."
"That's exactly what we should do, actually." Reina rested her hands at her sides as if she were hiding them in pockets that didn't exist. "Nozomi should've known how to handle herself. If she cared about music at all, she'd have just swallowed her pride and gone right past Asuka. She wouldn't drag everyone back into the things that we had gotten over." Reina looked down at the floor, suddenly seeming so much weaker than she usually was. "It's selfish." The two girls had reached the front entrance, now, and Kumiko was at a loss for words.
"Reina, I-"
"Oh, Kasaki-senpai." Reina's tone changed almost instantly. Kumiko looked up, and sure enough, Nozomi stood above the two of them, standing on the steps with a faint smile on her lips, tinged with a sad sort of nostalgia that Kumiko didn't think could exist on someone only a year or so older than herself.
"Euphonium girl, hey!" she called. "And you're Kousaka-san, the trumpet player, right?" Reina nodded, tensing up. Kumiko looked from Reina to Nozomi back to Reina again, fear plain as day on her face. "What's that?" Nozomi pointed to Reina's camera, now concealed in its soft case.
"It's a camera," Reina replied, her teeth gritted. Kumiko wouldn't have been surprised if she had sprouted fangs right there.
"W-would you want to be filmed for a part of it?" she blurted out. Nozomi blinked.
"Me?"
"Yeah, you." Kumiko shot a wink at Reina, who responded with a barely-contained glare. "We're, uh, just getting shots of everyone in the band. You're not really supposed to know we're here, though, right? Reina?" Reina nodded slowly, her jaw set in a grimace.
"Should I, erm, do an interview, then?" Nozomi scuffed her shoes on the brick steps, looking down. Kumiko began to wonder if this had been a good idea in the first place, if perhaps she had overstepped her boundaries just a little bit. Reina wordlessly slipped the camera from its sleeve, angling it so that Nozomi was bathed in what was left of the afternoon sunlight.
"You've got an eye for film, Reina," Kumiko said, hoping and hoping that Reina would hear beyond her words as her mind cycled through the worst and Nozomi just stood there with her sad, placid smile and suddenly Kumiko couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe and-
"Kumiko!" Kumiko hadn't realized that she wasn't standing anymore until she saw Reina's concerned face staring down at her, the sun behind her dipping away from the horizon, away from sight.
"I'm s-sorry," Kumiko croaked, her face somehow feeling burning hot and freezing cold at the same time.
"Are you alright?" Black dots ringed with purple flooded her vision.
"I think I'm gonna throw up." Nozomi took a step closer, but Reina fended her off with a glare, and Kumiko thought she looked like the benevolent heroes in the movies she had watched when she was younger, the neighborhood kid putting themselves between the bullies and a kicked dog. Nozomi was as far from a bully as one could be, but Kumiko thought that she played the role of a kicked dog rather well, curled into herself like the world was toppling around her ears.
"Focus on me, Kumiko," Reina said, putting her hands on Kumiko's shoulders, now kneeling to face her. "Breathe."
one two three one two three one two-
"Can you stand?"
"I t-think so." Kumiko's teeth were chattering, and she was sure that her whole body was shaking, that her face looked as pale as a ghost.
"We're going to go home now, alright?"
"Yeah."
Kumiko tried not to think of the encounter that night, of her sudden panic attack and of the way Reina had handled it so gently despite her clear dislike for Nozomi showing through.
I'll have to talk to her about it tomorrow.
Kumiko had expected some change, she supposed - perhaps Reina would be frostier than usual, back hunched as she looked to Kumiko with gray eyes. The thought made Kumiko feel like the jack-o-lanterns she had made with her sister when she was younger - like everything had been carved from her and spilled onto the ground for everyone to see.
I just have to worry about Reina, she corrected herself. Nozomi-senpai's got bigger things on her hands. Kumiko found herself so deeply lost in thought and the very fascinating patterns on the hallway floor that she didn't even notice when she bumped into something - someone - who was most definitely not a stranger.
"Kumiko?"
"Y-yep, that's me! Kumiko Oumae, that's me, heh." She didn't even need to look up to know who it was.
"You seemed shaken up last night, is everything okay?"
"Yeah, it was just . . . just something kinda snapping, I guess. I was worried that you were mad at me, and then I started thinking about how Nozomi-senpai and Mizore-senpai drifted apart like that and I got scared, Reina, b-because what if that happens to us? What if it happens to us, Reina, what then?" Other students still drifted by, a blur of uniforms and chats between friends, but Kumiko and Reina remained rooted in their places, time put on pause for the two of them. "What if we just stop talking one day?"
"We won't." Reina said it with such firmness in her voice that Kumiko felt the strange need to believe the statement herself. "I know that, I know we won't." Kumiko caught a glimpse of something silver glinting from the corner of Reina's bag, and time seemed to begin again.
"You're still bringing the camera to school?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Kumiko shrugged.
"You, uh, seemed pretty uncomfortable last night, so I wondered if-"
"We can forget about what happened last night."
"Yeah."
"Why did you ask me about playing for someone, anyway?" Reina murmured, days and days later, after the air had cleared from Nozomi and Mizore's sudden reconciliation. Kumiko blinked. Hazuki sat wedged between the two of them, oblivious. "Was something wrong?"
"N-no, I guess I just . . . realized things, y'know?"
"You'll have to be more specific," Reina said dryly.
"Oh, does this have something to do with Nozomi?" Hazuki piped up. "She joined Team Monaka yesterday, Natsuki seemed really excited about it!" Kumiko nodded, relieved.
"I saw some weird stuff going on with her and Mizore and it made me think about how much those two love each other, and I started to wonder if-"
"H-hey, Kousaka-san, didn't you say you had a video camera or something?" Hazuki squeaked, tightly grinning as she clenched her fist. Kumiko wondered what had bothered her. "Can I see it?"
"Hrm? I suppose so." Reina dug through her bag for the camera in question. "Kumiko, why don't you film the two of us?"
"Me?" Kumiko pointed to herself, as if wondering about some other Kumiko being on the train.
"Yes, you." Reina handed her the camera, fastening the strap around her wrist, and Kumiko flushed at the sudden contact. Hazuki seemed to remain oblivious. "Just press that button there."
"Okay." Kumiko held it up to the two girls in front of her as Reina started, rather suddenly, to explain the origin of the band's current piece to a bright-eyed Hazuki, and soon the thoughts of playing for someone were forgotten with the wails of the train.
"You've still got that camera, huh, Reina?" Kumiko murmured as the band left the competition building, still teary and smiling. Reina stiffened.
"Well, yes, of course, I had to film the way a high school band acts after such an important performance, otherwise-"
"I'm happy, Reina." Reina's free hand found Kumiko's, fitting together as if that was what they were always supposed to do, as if that was how they were always supposed to be, and they stayed like that as the bus rumbled away from the concert hall.
"Asuka?"
"What about her?"
"You want to film Asuka?"
"Well, yes. I would've thought that was obvious, seeing as she is a glue, of sorts, with this band. It'd be a shame if I didn't manage to catch any footage of her." Kumiko let out a quiet laugh. "What's so funny?"
"You're talking like she's Bigfoot or something."
"She is mysterious, isn't she?"
"As mysterious as you?" Kumiko teased.
"You can say goodbye to your co-producer title in the credits if you keep going on like that," Reina huffed.
"Y-you mean you were going to-"
"Yes."
"Oh." A pause. "Thanks."
Reina did not bring the camera when Kumiko was sick, not to her house in any case, but she wondered if the other girl had still filmed Asuka during the day.
She was far too tired to ask, though.
"You want us to . . . jump down these stairs?" Kumiko repeated. Reina nodded.
"If you don't want to, then it's fine, but-"
"We'll do it!" Midori squeaked eagerly. Hazuki pumped her fist in the air.
"You're doing this so that future students know about us, right?"
"Pretty much, yes."
"Well, that's pretty cool! I don't wanna be forgotten, so of course I'll jump down some stairs for something like this!" Reina let out a quiet laugh.
"I'm glad," she murmured. "I'm really, truly glad."
"You've got a lot of footage, Reina," Kumiko murmured, leaning against Reina as the two girls watched videos of the band through the tiny screen. "What're you going to do with all of it?"
"I haven't decided yet," Reina said, shutting the camera. "I'm waiting until after Nationals. That way it can mean something bigger than us, it'll be the story of our victory. A human victory, one that this group of people managed to win."
"And you call me the sentimental one," Kumiko teased.
"I'm still not denying that."
"Kumiko?" No response. "Kumiko? Kumiko, are you alright? You're pale, your hands are trembling."
"I'm scared, Reina."
"Of what?" Kumiko thrust her arms out, lips tightly sealed. She knew with a pained certainty that if she started to talk, if she spoke even one word, she'd fall apart and she couldn't do that, she couldn't.
'I shouldn't even be upset, it's Asuka I should be worried about. It's crappy to think of myself in this sort of thing.'
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Reina continued, eyes still unfocused and glassy. "I think I know what it's like." The word Taki-sensei hung over the two of them like the strings holding a puppet, tangled and entrapping.
"It's not like that, Reina." Neither of them had given the problem a name - it became just a bit less real, if they did that. Kumiko could've yelled at the unfairness of it all, of the hopelessness of Reina's feelings that she could never stay, of how useless this all was in the grandest scheme of things.
(and yet, Kumiko knew the sting of unrequited love all too well, and she'd have to truly be a terrible person to inflict that on anyone, much less Reina)
"The Nationals are coming up," Kumiko said, eager to change the subject, eager to forget the way Asuka's playing had yanked at her heartstrings in ways she didn't think were possible in anything other than novels.
(she didn't want to forget, not really)
"Y-you know what? I'm not going to keep going with this . . . this small talk. You nearly passed out the other day with Taki-sensei, aren't you going to address that?"
"Why do you care?"
"Maybe it's because . . ." no no god don't say it now don't say it now you can't say it now you can't- "-because I've had these same feelings, alright?!" Kumiko felt strangely hollow, small and vulnerable in Reina's violet eyes. "For other girls, for you- I dunno if that'll change anything, but there it is." Reina didn't respond, simply lifting her camera from her bag.
"I'm going to get a shot of you practicing in this classroom," she said slowly, as if talking too fast would disrupt the relative peace.
"R-right," Kumiko mumbled, taking her euph from its case with shaky fingers, wondering if it had always felt that heavy. "Sounds good."
Kumiko missed the feeling of being filmed more than she would've expected.
It's not like I didn't know this already. Kumiko walked down the hallway, weighed down by the odd loneliness that threatened to grip her heart so hard it'd burst. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do.
She still hadn't figured it out when she reached the classroom and was waved over to her desk by Hazuki and Midori.
"I saw a movie kinda like this once," Kumiko said, standing outside in an oversized coat with the beginnings of snowflakes drifting down to melt on the sidewalk. "Y'know, with someone capturing these moments. Except, the girl was taking pictures, not filming, and the one who was having the picture taken of her reminded me more of you." Reina snapped the camera shut, tightening her own scarf.
"What movie?" she asked. The chilled air still felt fraught with tension, the closure that Reina had gotten only serving to calm it a bit. Kumiko wanted nothing more than to return to just a few months prior, when she wasn't burdened with the problems of people she hardly knew, when Reina had taken her up the mountain for the first time and the world had seemed magical.
"I, uh, don't remember the title." This was a lie - Kumiko knew the title, but the last thing she wanted was for Reina to find the movie and start to ask questions that would only further drive the gap that seemed to grow wider and wider. Kumiko could still remember the softness of her hands on that railing. "It was a great movie, though. The cinematography was really pretty, I'm guessing that you're into that kind of stuff? Since you're making this film and all."
"I suppose."
"What're you going to do when it's over, Reina?" The pavement was cold, but Kumiko sat down on it anyway.
"What, the Nationals?"
"Yeah."
"I haven't thought about it much, if you want the truth." Reina ran a finger along the now-scratched silver camera. "We're . . . supposed to focus on the present, right? That's what I've been doing. Nothing matters except for what's happening right now, in this very second."
"That's a good way of looking at it." Kumiko hugged her knees to her chest. "I've just been kinda terrified, if you want the truth. It's all going so fast - I mean, I'm still having trouble finding my way around the school, but it's been almost a year and the third-years are going to graduate after this and-"
"That's what's been bothering you, isn't it?"
"Doesn't it bother you?!" Kumiko yelped. "Kaori-senpai's the leader of the trumpet section, what'll happen when she's gone?! Who'll run it then?"
"If it's not based on seniority, I suppose I will."
"And what about the whole club? Both of the leaders are third-years, who's going to be good enough to follow in Asuka-senpai's footsteps? Nobody."
"What about the middle euph?"
"Natsuki?"
"She seems . . . driven, even if she's a part of the B-team. That's something admirable. I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up at least as the vice president."
"Maybe, yeah."
"Listen, Kumiko, it doesn't do us any good to muse over these things that neither of us can control." More snowflakes drifted down, and Kumiko shivered. "All it does is mess with our heads and keep us from our goals."
"The Nationals?" Reina blinked.
"Yeah. That, too. I was thinking about becoming special, but the Nationals are sooner, aren't they?" Reina looked down, jaw twitching slightly as if she were gritting her teeth with her mouth closed. "They're so soon. It's finally within our reach, isn't it?"
"Let's win gold, Reina. For Taki-sensei's wife, for the third-years, whatever you want to call our goal."
"Now, when did you become such a poet?" Kumiko elbowed her, grinning.
"I'd like to think I picked it up from a certain someone."
"Terrible," Reina laughed, her face turned to the snowfall above. "You're so terrible, Kumiko." The snow fell in heavier flurries, and Kumiko almost didn't catch the six words quietly drifting from Reina's lips.
"It's what I love about you."
"You're not packing the camera?" Kumiko curiously peered over Reina's shoulder as she shoved a blue pillow into her suitcase. The camera sat on a nearby bookshelf, untouched. Kumiko's own suitcase had been left behind in her family's apartment, and she now sat perched on Reina's bed as the other girl tossed in a pair of pajamas.
"I wouldn't want it to get damaged," Reina explained. "The bus ride is pretty long, and what with all the chaos of the Nationals, it'd be all too easy to lose it."
"I guess." Kumiko looked up at the lights dotting Reina's ceiling.
"I'm assuming that you 'still can't believe we've made it to Nationals?'"
"How'd you guess?"
"I can read you like a book sometimes, Kumiko. You're terrible, really, peeling off the good-girl skin and showing your true feelings only in situations like this." Kumiko didn't take her eyes off of the ceiling. "I was able to . . . to believe it, I suppose, all along, since I wanted it. More than anything, I wanted it."
"Yeah, Reina, I know, I never really thought we'd make it to . . . oh, crap." Reina smirked.
"Terrible," she murmured, pushing down a spare uniform into the near-full suitcase.
"H-here, I can help with that." Kumiko pressed down on the mass of clothing and sheet music. Reina's hand brushed hers for scarcely a second, and Kumiko nearly jumped back.
"Your hand's cold," Reina commented, unfazed. "Did you walk here without gloves?" Kumiko could only sit with her cheeks turning pink as Reina held her hand again.
"N-no, it's just that I, uh, my hands get cold really easily, so . . . yeah."
"Is this alright, then?" Reina held up their joined hands expectantly.
"Yeah, of course."
"I'm almost done." Reina looked back up at the camera resting on the bookshelf. "We're so close, Kumiko." Kumiko could feel Reina tightening her hold on her hand, and Kumiko didn't mind it one bit.
"We'll win gold, Reina." Kumiko scooted closer until she was leaning against Reina's shoulder, her euphonium and Reina's trumpet facing them from across the room.
"You've become optimistic." Reina paused for a moment. "We will, though. Win gold, I mean." The trees rustled by outside, the world spun around them, but for Kumiko, there wasn't anything in the entire universe that mattered more than this quiet moment in Reina's room, than Reina herself.
"I know we will, Reina."
"So much for optimism, huh?"
"You're the one who's close with the third-years, you should know that we're the best-off of anyone in this situation." Reina gripped the hem of her own skirt. "We have two more chances."
"I guess it's for the best that you didn't bring the camera. It probably wouldn't have been a very good shot, right? All of us, looking like something the cat dragged in."
"I suppose." Reina had been unfocused, nearly cold, ever since the competition, and Kumiko had figured it wasn't particularly wise to bother her, not when the gap between them had already started to feel impossible to cross.
"Anyway, we s-still have to focus, don't we?" Kumiko stared down at the floor, unwilling to meet Reina's gaze. "Just because the third-years retired, we still . . ."
"Kumiko?"
"It's not fair." Kumiko stopped in the hallway, blinking back warm tears. "We all worked so h-hard, and for what?" Reina didn't respond. "I get it now, Reina. I understand how you felt back then. I mean, I already sorta did, as soon as I realized how much I wanted to improve, but now I really do get it."
"It's a difficult path to becoming special, isn't-"
"It's not just about becoming special, Reina!" Kumiko was surprised by the loudness in her own voice. "It's about Asuka-senpai and all the pain everyone went through during those auditions, it's about Nozomi and Mizore nearly losing each other and Taki-sensei managing to make something out of this group of lazy kids!" Kumiko figured that the confrontation with Asuka, feeling like it was years ago, now, had released something within her, something she didn't particularly like.
"Kumiko-"
"It's about Hazuki cheering everyone on from the side and Aoi dropping out! It's so many things, and they're all so much bigger than us. We're not the only ones here, Reina." Reina hugged herself, uncomfortable. Kumiko wanted to stop, but she couldn't, she couldn't and she was shaking with exhaustion. "We're not special, Reina. We're just lonely."
"Don't you think I know that?" Reina muttered. "I'm well aware of how sad this path is, how lonely it is, but I don't care. I have to become special. I have to."
"Have you ever thought that maybe you're already special to me?" Kumiko knew that she'd be late to class if she didn't stop soon, but the words just kept coming and she was but their puppet at the mercy of her deepest thoughts. Reina's eyes widened.
"I'm going to class," she said, before Kumiko could blurt out an apology. "I'll see you during practice."
Kumiko hated the hairpin more than she could describe, tucked safely in her backpack so that she could show it off to Shuichi in case he asked her why she hadn't been wearing it. She hated the weight it carried, the way Shuichi seemed to think himself the king of the world because he'd gotten her a nice present.
"Hey, Kumiko."
Speak of the devil. Shuichi swung his leg over the bench, sitting uncomfortably close, and Kumiko scooted away. "What do you want?"
"Kousaka asked me where you were. I figured you'd be here. She wanted to talk about a movie or something, I dunno what was really going on with her."
"Right." Kumiko scooted further down. "I'll go and find her, then." Thankful for a reason to leave him alone, she stood up from the bench.
"Oh, and Kumiko?"
"Yeah?"
"Kousaka's a lucky girl." Kumiko blinked.
"Thanks?"
"Don't mention it," Shuichi huffed, turning away with a sniff. Kumiko walked down the pathway, smiling with a feeling of odd warmth in her chest.
Asuka's graduating soon. She can't be graduating soon. There's still so much I need to say. Kumiko walked the road to Reina's house, but she found herself returning to Asuka time and time again in her thoughts. I'm going to have time with Reina. We can talk these things out. I'm never going to see Asuka again after this. She stopped at Reina's doorstep, unmoving, every bone in her body screaming against ringing the doorbell. As it turned out, she didn't have to.
"Mom, I'm going out, I'll be back in- oh. You're here." Reina opened the door curiously. "I was just about to go and look for you. I told Tsukamoto to pass along my message, but you know how he is. You'd know that better than me, I suppose. Anyway. Would you like to come in?" Kumiko nodded, silently following Reina through the house after kicking off her shoes.
"Is this about the movie?" she asked.
"It is," Reina replied. She didn't look at Kumiko when she spoke.
"Your room's nice," Kumiko blankly said, at a loss for words. She hated it, the small talk that seemed to dominate their every conversation, the way that strange intimacy she'd grown to so desperately crave had fallen away with Reina's crush on Taki-sensei and the loss at Nationals.
"Haven't you been here before?" Reina turned to face her, finally, and Kumiko felt her breath trapped in her throat.
"Y-yeah."
"In any case, I figured I'd show you what I've gotten of the film so far. I think it's nearly done." Kumiko sat down on the fuzzy white carpet as Reina's computer whirred to life.
"The first part's in black and white!" Kumiko squeaked in surprise.
"I figured it'd add a nice touch," Reina said, leaning against her nonchalantly.
"It does. It looks . . . artsy." Reina laughed, a gentle noise that sounded nearly as melodic as her playing.
"Well, artsy was the angle I was going for, so I suppose that's a good thing."
"Yeah." Kumiko wasn't expecting to tear up, watching Reina's shaky camerawork play on her computer on a chilly fall's day, but there it was. She was just about to cry.
"Kumiko?"
So much had happened.
"Kumiko, are you alright?"
It would be over all too soon.
"I'm f-fine," Kumiko mumbled, shaking her head as if to clear the thoughts. "I'm fine, don't worry."
"I think it's enough material for a film, right?" Reina changed the subject rather abruptly, and Kumiko was thankful for it.
"Yeah. It's beautiful, Reina."
"You're beautiful." Reina cradled Kumiko's cheek with her hand, pushing away a stray curl, and Kumiko could feel herself turning a particularly deep shade of beet-red.
"F-flattery won't help me give your movie better reviews," Kumiko halfheartedly joked, crookedly smiling, doing anything but admitting that she wanted nothing more than to kiss the girl in front of her.
"I'm well aware of that." Reina scooted in closer, and Kumiko almost reflexively grabbed a handful of carpet in her hand. "This isn't crossing a boundary, is it?" Kumiko thought that perhaps a better time to be asking that wasn't when the girl of her dreams was scarcely an inch from her lips and was just about to make out with her on a fluffy rug with her own documentary playing in the background, but she simply nodded.
"Nope," she answered truthfully. "Not at all."
"That's a relief. I've been wanting to do this for a while now, you know."
"N-not as much as I have," Kumiko laughed. "I'd always thought with the Taki-sensei stuff, though, and all of your ambitions, I'd just be . . . getting in the way . . ." She found herself trailing off, looking down at the rug if only because she had nowhere else to look.
"Taki-sensei isn't here now." Kumiko leaned in ever closer, wondering if there was a way two people could become closer than skin, if they could cling to each other's very souls, because that was what she wanted as her lips pressed against Reina's. She tasted like rosemary and brass and wintertime, the very stars held in her kiss. Kumiko wrapped her arms around Reina's neck, wanting to be closer still, fingers tangled in her smooth dark hair. Reina gripped Kumiko's arms, nearly enough to leave a mark, but Kumiko truly couldn't find it in herself to care, not when fireworks were exploding around them, not when the two girls were holding each other and kissing like the very world existed for them. Not when she hadn't spent a moment in her life more perfect than this.
"Wow," she breathed, once Reina had finally pulled away. They were both red-faced, breathing fairly heavily, smiles on their faces.
"I've finally done it, then."
"Done what?"
"Peeled off the good-girl skin. It's clung to you so stubbornly, it's a relief to finally see it cast away."
"Are you trying to make a sex metaphor, Reina?"
"Not yet. In a few years, maybe." The documentary still played on the computer, all but forgotten. "For now, it's more than that. Young love, souls laid bare, everything the books talk about. It's something more."
"Dork." Kumiko tapped Reina on the forehead before the other girl caught her hand and intertwined her own with it, sending a tingle down through Kumiko's very bones.
"We should finish watching the film."
"Yeah."
Kumiko: hey
Kumiko: natsuki
Kumiko: you're the best person to ask about sort of thing
Kumiko: i'm falling in love with my best friend
Kumiko: but i can't even think about anything without asuka tying into it somehow
Kumiko: she's going to graduate soon
Kumiko: that scares me a lot
Kumiko still felt Reina's kiss on her lips, still felt her grip on her arms, and it was so wonderful that she cursed time itself for casting a gray cloud over it all because of Asuka's impending graduation. She wondered if Reina's black-and-white documentary could capture the way she felt right now, curled in a ball underneath three layers of blankets as the phone screen glared in her face. Natsuki's reply came a few minutes later.
Natsuki: you're overthinking it
Natsuki: people can have more than two problems at once
Natsuki: even if one of said problems is actually kind of a great thing
Natsuki: you're in love
Natsuki: and you love someone
Natsuki: and those two things can coexist, believe it or not
Natsuki: i'm no world-weary traveler myself, but i think it's safe to say that life's messy
Natsuki: asuka's going to graduate
Natsuki: i don't like it either
Natsuki: but it's the truth
Kumiko: are you trying to make me feel better?
Natsuki: i guess
Natsuki: i'm sorta trying to comfort myself, too
Natsuki: you two aren't the only euphs
Natsuki: soon it'll just be me and you
Natsuki: and that'll be weird
Natsuki: but we'll survive
Kumiko: i'm
Kumiko: ...
Kumiko: ...
Kumiko: ...
Kumiko took a deep breath as the phone froze.
Natsuki: uh? kumiko? are you alright there?
Kumiko: stupid phone glitched
Kumiko: i'm going to miss her
Kumiko: we weren't even that close and i'm going to miss her and who can i even tell about this?
Kumiko: reina?
Kumiko: i love reina more than anything but she's preoccupied with her ambitions and taki-sensei and everything else
Kumiko: i'm going to miss asuka and the idea of never seeing her again scares me, okay?
Kumiko: and i'm still falling so hard for reina
Natsuki: have you told her or . . . ?
Kumiko: well i mean we made out at her house earlier today so
Kumiko: probably?
Natsuki: nice
Natsuki: you'll live through it, kumiko
Natsuki: you're gonna be alright
Natsuki: we all will be
They weren't life-changing words, not in the slightest, but that didn't change the fact that they made Kumiko feel just a little bit better.
"You're really done with it, then?" Kumiko looked at the flash drive held in Reina's hands, so small and yet it held memories of the past ten months, such important things she couldn't ever forget.
"I can't imagine adding anything more to it." Reina held the flash drive out to Kumiko, a strangely fierce determination in her eyes. "Here."
"W-what?"
"I'd let it gather dust in my room if I kept it. It's yours now, Kumiko. Take care of it." Kumiko blinked back tears.
"T-thank you," she blubbered, hugging Reina tightly. "I'll watch it all the time."
"I know you will," Reina said, pressing her face into Kumiko's sweater. "It's been an eventful few months, hasn't it?" Kumiko could feel her fingers instinctively curling around Reina's, and she didn't mind one bit.
"It sure has, Reina." Snow fell outside, thick sheets coating the ground already dusted in white, but the two girls only held each other as if the world was ending around them. "It sure has."
a/n: thank you, hibike fandom. you're all amazing, and this is far from the last kumirei fic i'll post