a/n: i've been meaning to write this fic for two years now

"Reina," Kumiko whined, nudging Reina's shoulder. "Are we almost there?"

"I think so." Reina tightened her hold on Kumiko's hand until the both of them were beginning to sweat. Even with the blindfold on, Kumiko could still tell that the sun was beating down on the two of them.

"I thought you'd outgrown this sort of thing."

"Over the course of two years? Doubtful." The ground sunk around Kumiko's feet enough that she guessed they were on a dirt hill, probably surrounded by grass. Reina stopped. "You can take it off now." Kumiko pulled off the scrap of cloth to see a twisting cherry blossom tree and . . . not much else.

"W-what is it?"

"I figured that we could just sit here." Reina sat down and leaned against the tree, letting out a soft hum when her back made contact with the bark. "Just . . . watch the clouds drift by, that sort of thing." Kumiko followed her example, patting the grass around her idly. "I thought about bringing a picnic up here, but that would have been too cliche, even for me."

"It's perfect, Reina," Kumiko said, wrapping her hands around the back of Reina's neck for a kiss. A few flowers were beginning to pop out from the dirt, and a thought slowly crossed Kumiko's mind as her lips collided with Reina's and the world melted away.

"Are you almost done with it?" Reina asked, facing the opposite direction about an hour later. "I still have no idea what you're doing, by the way."

"That's the point." Kumiko stuck her tongue to the top of her lip in focus. "Y-you surprised me with this date, I'm surprising you with this . . . thing."

"That's fair."

"And . . . done!" Reina turned around, and Kumiko quickly hid the object behind her back. "Wait, you have to close your eyes."

"Alright." Delicately, Kumiko placed it on Reina's head, so that when she opened her eyes a ring of flowers encircled her, woven together clumsily but fitting perfectly.

"It's a flower crown."

"It's lovely." Reina's expression suddenly took on one of focus, and she turned Kumiko around with sudden strength. "Close your eyes."

"Okay?"

"It'll just be a moment."

Kumiko had an idea of what Reina was doing - it was pretty obvious, really - but the thought made her feel delightfully warm inside nonetheless as Reina muttered to herself, no doubt hunched over petals and branches with the utmost care.

"I think I've got it."

That fast? "Does that mean I can turn around now?"

"Yes, Kumiko, it does." Reina took her hand and pulled her back, setting the expected (but not unwelcome) flower crown on top of her unruly curls until it settled comfortably on her head.

"It's beautiful, Reina." Kumiko scooted closer. "You're beautiful."

"I could say the same." Reina cupped Kumiko's face in her hand, fingers calloused from years of trumpeting but still so unbelievably delicate with her.

"Reina, I-" Whatever Kumiko was about to say was cut off by a sudden shift in movement when she and Reina started to tumble down, flower petals flying away as they laughed and laughed and held each other until they reached the foot of the hill. They were both covered in grass, chests heaving next to each other with their faces just inches away.

There's been so much written about kisses, so many stories ending with them, that they sometimes feel undeserved, dispassionate. This was not one of those kisses - it was the truest, most loving embrace between any two individuals as they lay down surrounded by flowers and broken branches.

Years passed, as they always do, and Kumiko and Reina tried their best to keep things going like they were still in high school. New York and Kyoto are far apart, however, and people change. That was something Kumiko knew with a quiet certainty as she boarded the plane, the drumming in her ears incessant as she found her seat and wedged her bag in front of her. A mess of sticks and petals sat carefully on her lap.

"A present?" the elderly gentleman in the seat next to her inquired. Kumiko nodded slowly.

"We, uh, we haven't seen each other in a while, and when we were younger we used t-to make these for each other. I figured it might be nice to . . . y'know . . ."

"Carry on the tradition?"

"Yeah."

"That's nice."

"I hope she feels the same way."

The captain's voice babbled over the speaker, talking of unfortunate turbulence and the estimated flight times, in one ear and out the other. Kumiko took out a pillow from her bag, but she knew that sleep was about as likely as Reina spontaneously appearing in front of her, and so she just looked up to the thin lights along the side of the plane and waited for the flight to take her away, back to Reina, back to where her heart had been left in her hands.

She woke up a few hours later, half-expecting Reina to appear spontaneously in front of her.

"You were out for quite a while there," the gentleman grunted. "Dreaming about the special someone? I saw you clutching that thingy like it was a life raft or somethin'."

"Oh, uh, I was j-just . . . tired, that's all!" Kumiko tried to distance herself from the flower crown like it would burst into flames at any moment. "I was tired, and kinda nervous, and so I figured I wouldn't be able to sleep, b-but I guess I did, huh?"

"You love this girl?"

"Yeah."

"Then, my dear, I doubt that you'll have any trouble at all." The gentleman leaned against his seat and slipped off into dreamland, and Kumiko was left feeling just a little more comforted.

Standing in the airport with the flower crown in one hand and a sign reading REINA KOUSAKA scrawled in big letters in the other, Kumiko couldn't help but feel a bit silly.

"What if she's not here?" she mumbled to herself, although rationally she knew Reina would be there at any moment. Reina Kousaka was a lot of things, but late was not one of them. Kumiko remembered exactly one instance in which she'd been anything but exactly on time, and she suspected that was on purpose, to tease her. The gentlest reminder of an eye for an eye, she supposed.

Shaking her head to clear the memories, Kumiko looked up again. I shouldn't be all nostalgic now, not when she'll be here so soon.

Then, like some kind of angel descended from the heavens (or Grand Central Station) Kumiko caught a glimpse of dark hair and violet eyes, and not a second passed before she was suddenly enveloped in Reina's embrace, lavender and rosemary and brass all blocking out the musty scent of the airport.

"Kumiko," she breathed, cheeks red, holding Kumiko's arms like she'd fall away if she ever let go. "It's nice to see you in person again."

"You too, Reina." Kumiko jumped. "W-wait, I got you something! Remember that time you took me out on a date to that hill and we made flower crowns for each other?"

"I think so."

"Well, uh, here it is!" Kumiko held it out in front of her, and Reina kneeled down like a soldier ready to be knighted.

"It's funny, really," Reina chuckled under her breath, still bent on her knee.

"What is?"

"I was planning to surprise you with one of these myself, but I suppose you beat me to the punch." Reina paused thoughtfully as Kumiko placed the flower crown on her head, just as she had years before. "It's really rather befitting of your terrible personality, isn't it?"

"C'mon, Reina, not this again?"

"I won't forget it." With an air of joking smugness, Reina stood up and tilted her head upwards, a snow queen in her own right, and the two girls walked out, arm in arm, the rulers of their own little kingdom.

a/n: i love these dorks